by Sarah Price
“It was my onkel who introduced us,” Alice said in her raucous voice to the small gathering of young women who circled her. “He’s a bishop, you know, in one of the largest g’mays in the Dutch Valley.” The way she drew out the word largest hinted at pride, and Emma fought the urge to make a comment. Not that it would have mattered, she realized, for Alice Esh went on talking, apparently more interested in hearing herself speak than in engaging in an actual conversation with her unfortunate captive audience.
Emma quickly lost interest in the conversation, but she knew she could not leave the circle of young women around the guest of honor without appearing rude or, even worse, like a disgruntled jilted woman. After all, she had no idea who else, besides her daed and Anna, might have suspected Paul’s interest in her.
Instead, while Alice prattled on about her onkel, Bishop Kaufman, Emma pondered this new bit of information. Was it possible that Paul had sought out Alice Hetzler to not only repair his self-esteem but to also build up his standing within the community? With his daed heading up their g’may and Alice the niece of another bishop, was this a marriage of true emotion or merely convenience and social suitability? She highly doubted the former, which therefore gave her cause to suspect the latter.
It wasn’t until after the meal when the singing commenced that Emma managed to break free from what she had begun to think of as Alice’s audience. The older women were washing the dishes and Emma slipped outside to cool off. With over two hundred people in the haus, it had grown increasingly warm, and Emma needed a moment of quiet to think.
She hadn’t expected to encounter Francis standing on the porch. Clearly he had the same idea. He grinned when he saw her and invited her to join him. He was leaning against the railing, his eyes scanning the farm fields that surrounded the Esh’s haus. While the bishop did not farm, per se, his wife and three dochders ran a small garden center from spring to autumn, while his sons planted hay which often yielded three or even sometimes four cuttings per season. The older boys helped grow plants and flowers in their greenhouse, and the Esh women sold them at the garden center. It was enough to keep the family living modestly without taking up too much of the bishop’s time so that he could minister to his flock.
“Have you enjoyed yourself so far today, Emma?” Francis asked.
“I always enjoy meeting new people and engaging in good fellowship,” she responded, trying to be as diplomatic as possible without telling a lie.
He must have seen through her for he laughed. “Good fellowship, it seems to me, would require the participation of multiple people in a conversation and not just the ramblings of one.”
Emma was startled by his frankness and almost thought to say something. However, since she actually agreed with him and interpreted his candor to mean that there was a budding intimacy between them, one shared by friends, she kept her thoughts to herself. “I’m sure it’s overwhelming, given that you most likely don’t remember many of the people here.”
He gave a little grunt in agreement, nodding his head. “True, indeed! At least you have your friends nearby,” he added. “Hannah, Rachel, Jane . . . ”
“Jane?” Emma couldn’t help but interrupt him. “Why, I barely know Jane, I suppose. I’m not certain I would consider her a friend.” Then, to soften her words, she quickly added, “Yet, anyway.”
“There’s always time,” Francis observed.
“Ja vell.” Emma shrugged. “But she is to return to Ohio in . . . what . . . another week or two? What is the point, really?”
“She seems pleasant enough,” he offered. “Although I do find her complexion a bit weathered for my taste.” He laughed when he said this and Emma smiled at his comment, which clearly hinted that Jane came from a farming background. While there was nothing vulgar about a young woman working on a farm, for many Amish women did it, there definitely was a different level of sophistication among children who grew up on farms as opposed to those who lived and worked among the Englische.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Emma said, surprised at the urge to defend Jane. “She still seems refined and proper. Her manners are . . . ” She hesitated and looked for the appropriate word. “Respectable.”
Francis shrugged his shoulders. “Mayhaps I cannot separate her manners from her complexion.” He laughed again and Emma wasn’t certain whether or not he was teasing her.
“And how are you getting on working with Gideon King?” she asked, eager to change the subject. Her opinion of Francis was changing rather rapidly, for she had not appreciated his comments about Jane’s appearance. She hoped to divert his attention to a new topic to counter the negative feeling she began to feel from his rather unkind observation.
“Carpentry work is carpentry work,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders and bored look upon his face. “And storage sheds are easy enough, I reckon. Not much creativity in it. In fact, it’s rather dull.” He leaned forward and brushed at something on her shoulder. When she looked down, she saw a piece of lint upon her dress. While his gesture smacked of familiarity, she appreciated the thoughtfulness behind it. “And how have you been, Emma Weaver? We didn’t have time to talk after last Sunday’s service, and I noticed you were absent from the youth singing that evening.”
Forgotten was his comment about Jane’s complexion. “I had such a long week,” she admitted. “Between helping my schwester Irene and her kinner, then tending to market, I needed to rest Sunday evening.”
“Your friend Hannah was there,” he mentioned.
Emma brightened at that news. It was a right gut sign that Hannah was fitting into the community and especially the youth group if she attended a singing without Emma. While they had not seen much of each other this week, Hannah had whispered to her earlier that very day that she had some exciting news to tell her. Based on what Francis had just informed her, she wondered if it had to do with someone asking to take her home after the singing.
“As it were, without you there, I felt obliged to offer both her and Jane a ride home.” This additional information caused her heart to swell at the insinuation that he would have rather offered her a ride home. But her stomach sank as she realized that Hannah’s exciting news did not involve a new beau on the horizon. At least not from the previous week’s singing, she assumed.
When the door opened and several young men emerged from the house, Emma was quick to excuse herself and return inside before her presence was missed. Once inside she searched the room, eager to find Hannah. To her surprise, Hannah was talking with Gideon and Samuel in the back of the kitchen, so as not to disturb those singing in the larger gathering room. Eager to find out Hannah’s news, Emma wasted no time to hurry over there.
“There she is!” Samuel called out jovially when Emma approached. “I had some of your schnitzel pie. Delicious as always.”
She bowed her head at his compliment. “No more so than any other, I presume.”
Gideon’s amused look at her attempt at humility did not go unnoticed, and her thoughts flickered back to the previous weekend when they had shared words. She chose to ignore him.
Turning her attention to Hannah, she gently laid her hand upon her friend’s arm. “I thought that I would see if you wanted to visit afterward at our house,” she asked. “When the gathering breaks up.”
To Emma’s surprise, Hannah glanced at Gideon then looked back at Emma. “I . . . I . . . ” The way that she stammered over her response indicated that she wanted to accept Emma’s offer, but something, perhaps another commitment, was hindering her from being able to do so. Clearly whatever it was made her uncomfortable.
Gideon saved Hannah from having to answer. “I’ve already volunteered to take Hannah home afterward. Gladys left already, and there is a threat of rain.”
The proper recourse would have been to invite both of them to visit. However, Emma was still smarting from Gideon’s perceived injury to her ego the previous Sunday. With her chin tilted stoically in the air, Emma feigned disappointment. “What a shame
,” she replied. “Perhaps over the weekend then? Mayhaps this off-Sunday?”
Hannah cast another furtive glance at Gideon.
“Am I missing something?” Emma asked, half in jest, half in annoyance. She felt like there was a secret among the group, one that she was not privy to, and that did not sit well with her.
“I meant to speak to you about this, but I haven’t had the chance,” Gideon said, addressing Emma directly. “If the weather holds up, we’ve planned a picnic at the Yoder’s pond this Sunday to get to know Alice Esh in a less formal setting.”
Emma could only imagine who was included in this “we” that had taken care to plan such an excursion without including her in the planning process. “I see,” she managed to say.
The stiffness of her reply seemed to amuse Gideon. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Don’t fret. You are invited, Emma,” he said in her ear, his breath warming her neck and causing her to blush; whether it was his close proximity to her or the fact that her reaction had been so transparent, she wasn’t certain.
Frowning, she leaned away from him and gave him a disapproving look, one that caused him to chuckle to himself as he returned to an upright position.
It took another fifteen minutes for Emma to finally have Hannah’s undivided attention. The older people had begun to leave while the younger, unmarried adults lingered around Paul and Alice, singing. It was the perfect opportunity for Emma and Hannah to catch up without fear of being interrupted.
“What was this news?” Emma ventured to ask.
Hannah’s face lit up and she smiled shyly at Emma. “You’ll never guess whom I ran into at market this week?”
So that was where Hannah had been! Emma tilted her head and held her breath, waiting to hear this big revelation that caused her friend to glow from head to toe. “I’m sure that I can hardly imagine!”
“Elizabeth Martin!”
Not being familiar with the name, it took Emma a few seconds to realize that Hannah was referring to Ralph Martin’s sister. “Oh!”
Hannah nodded. “And they’ve invited me to visit!”
“They?”
Hannah averted her eyes. “She was not alone.”
Of course she wasn’t. Strasburg was far enough away from the market where Hannah was working that it would not make sense for her to travel such a distance by herself. Certainly Ralph would have accompanied her, eager to run his own errands rather than make a separate trip at a later date.
True to the promise that she had made to herself about meddling in other people’s affairs, Emma did not respond, not wanting to sway Hannah one way or the other. After all, she reasoned, it was up to Hannah to decide whether she wanted to encourage that courtship or possibly pursue what was looking like a potential interest in her from Gideon. She didn’t quite understand why, but the thought of Gideon actually wishing to court Jane or Hannah did not sit well with Emma. It was as though she had always presumed that they were both going to remain single forever, bickering and arguing well into their old age.
Mayhaps, she told herself, there is, indeed, someone for everyone. After all, who was she to question God’s plans?
Chapter Fifteen
DESPITE IT BEING October, typically a chilly and rainy time of the year, the weather could not have been more pleasant. The sun seemed to shine large in the sky, a peculiar sky which was a most unusual blue with nary a cloud to distract from the color. A true Indian summer as unseen for quite a few years had befallen Lancaster County. The regular group that gathered at the Weaver house for Sunday supper had, indeed, decided to pack their food into baskets and enjoy their fellowship by the Yoder’s pond down the road instead of sharing the late afternoon meal inside of the home.
The grassy banks smelled like autumn, and the backdrop of color-changing leaves on the trees made it a perfect afternoon. While the adults seemed to languish in the sun, enjoying what might well be their last leisurely day spent outside until the following spring, Emma, however, was more quiet than usual. Her mood had soured since she had attended the Thursday gathering to welcome Alifce Esh to the community.
On Friday Hetty and Jane had descended upon Emma, completely unannounced and with Alice in tow. If she had not warmed up to Alice at the gathering earlier, she felt even less inclined to change her opinion now. Immediately upon her arrival Alice began staring at everything as if scrutinizing the way Emma kept house. Despite the house obviously being kept in pristine condition, Alice seemed to tilt her nose in the air, a look of disdain upon her face.
To add to her irritation, Francis had stopped by toward the end of the three women’s visit. His stay, however, was immediately cut short. He claimed to have seen the horse and buggy hitched to the post when he was passing by and decided to stop, for he recognized it as belonging to Paul Esh. Emma, however, cast a sideways glance at him, curious as to how he could have seen it from the road. Furthermore, she wondered why he was riding down her road at three in the afternoon, for she was fairly certain that Gideon’s carpenters worked until later in the day.
Regardless, his stop seemed most fortuitous, if not short-lived.
Hetty had promised to take Alice into town since they had the use of the Esh horse and buggy. However, Jane begged to be excused, claiming that a headache had befallen her. Two solutions were immediately offered. The first was suggested by Hetty, who insisted that she’d walk home with Jane and volunteered Emma to ride into town with Alice. The color must have drained from her face for Francis quickly offered the second solution: to escort the ailing Jane home so that Hetty’s afternoon plans with Alice would not suffer.
Emma wasn’t certain which solution was the better of two evils.
Despite his attention and mild flirtations, Emma hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling that something was wrong. She was flattered by his attention, that much she could not deny. And just for a short while she thought she might have found someone who could capture her interest. But something had changed, something she couldn’t put her finger upon. Whatever it was, she had quickly realized that Francis was not the man for her.
Still, coming to this realization did not positively impact her mood. There were other things amiss in the community. Winds of change were blowing through their small g’may, and she wasn’t certain she liked what she was feeling.
On Saturday afternoon Hannah had stopped by, a shy glow upon her face—a glow that, without words, told Emma her friend had good and important news for her. With her daed sitting in the recliner, Hannah sat on the sofa visiting with Emma while she sketched out her next big project: a queen-size quilt for an Englische woman who was friends with the Glick family.
When the clock began to chime, announcing that it was four o’clock, her daed excused himself for his casual afternoon walk, finally providing the much-desired privacy that the two women wanted so that Hannah could share her secret with Emma. Indeed, Emma sensed that her friend could barely contain herself, but the presence of her father had made it impossible for Hannah to confide in her.
“I went to visit with the Martins last evening,” she admitted, avoiding Emma’s eyes for fear of seeing disappointment staring back at her. “I made certain that it was a short visit; I didn’t want to seem overly intrusive.”
“Of course,” Emma responded, not certain what else to say in response to this news.
“I was ever so nervous, Emma!” Hannah confided, her voice sounding stronger. “I was so afraid that they would treat me differently, especially Ralph.”
“Did they?”
Hannah shook her head. “Nee, not at all! In fact, before I left, Ralph took me into the barn where he keeps the pigs. Apparently, he had just received his new contract delivery last week.” When Emma made a face, Hannah could not repress a giggle. “It didn’t smell half as bad as you’d think. And so adorable and precious!”
“They are small now, so I believe you. But when they grow bigger, you’ll be the one to believe me.”
Taking a deep breath,
Hannah sighed as if greatly satisfied. “I felt much better upon leaving,” she said. “I sensed no disdain on the part of Elizabeth, and Ralph remained as pleasant as always. There were no hard feelings there, and that, if nothing else, frees my mind from worry.”
It took all of her resolve to not speak out, to question Hannah’s words. Emma wanted to inquire what worry had besotted her mind to begin with? Just because a man proposes, does the woman always have to respond in the positive for fear of hurting his feelings or diminishing her status in the eyes of his family? From her own experience, Emma knew the answer was a firm “nee!” However, Hannah’s lack of self-confidence in this particular matter was a source of much reflection for Emma into the late hours of the night.
And then Sunday arrived.
At the picnic she immediately fell into a rather foul mood. It began when she noticed the excessive attention Francis bestowed upon Jane, who, to her credit, demurely deflected it as was proper for a young Amish woman. Still, Emma found herself resenting the open and particular attention that Francis gave to Jane. And when his attention did shift toward her, inquiring as to her unusually quiet temperament, she merely shrugged her shoulders and looked away.
But it wasn’t until she saw Gideon that her temper shifted from slight agitation to full-blown irritation.
When he arrived, Emma’s mouth fell open, for he was not riding in his regular gray-topped boxlike buggy but in an open carriage, a carriage typically reserved for courting couples. To her further distress, seated beside him was none other than Hannah, who seemed rather pleased to have been picked up along the way. Emma refused to inquire as to how the ride had been obtained: by chance or by plan. Neither answer, she realized, would appease the annoyance she felt.
