An Amish Husband for Tillie

by Amy Lillard

  “Fine.” He sighed. There were some things in this world that were too tough to fight, and Mims was one of them.

  “You won’t regret it.” She beamed at him. “I promise you.”

  That was strange, because he regretted it already.

  He shook his head. “Don’t just stand there. Help me get these things in the house.” He pointed to the bag of cat food. It was by far the smallest of his supplies, and he knew that Mims was a strong woman both in her head and in her muscles, but he didn’t really need her help. He was hoping that once he got her body occupied, she would stop trying to find things to tell him to do.

  She picked up the bag and toted it toward the house. “Why are you buying cat food?” she asked. So much for his theory. “You don’t have a cat.”

  Levi gathered up the remaining supplies and started behind her.

  “Are you going to feed every stray that comes along?” Mims sighed. “You’ll have a hundred dogs and twice that many cats before next fall.”

  “I can’t watch an animal starve, Mims.” But he wasn’t the one who had started feeding the strays. That had been all Mary. But how could he stop? They came to the house needing comfort and food, sometimes even shelter. How could he turn them away?

  She shook her head as he opened the door. She pushed her way inside and headed for the kitchen. “You’ll definitely need to get remarried. Or you’ll end up being that crazy old man with a thousand pets.”

  “I’m not getting remarried,” he said before he even realized the words were in his head. “Not ever.”

  “You don’t mean that.” She eyed him warily as if he was about to do something no man should even think about.

  “I do.”

  “Levi.” There went her cajoling voice again. She had perfected that when they were children, and she used it regularly to get whatever it was that she wanted.

  “If it’s God’s will that my wife and son are gone, then it’s surely God’s will that I remain alone for the rest of my days.”

  Chapter Three

  “This is too much,” Tillie whispered as a car pulled up outside her family home. Her sister Leah; Leah’s husband, Jamie; and their son, Peter, hopped out of the car and waved.

  Beside her, Tillie felt, rather than saw, her mamm smile. “It’s just a family dinner.”

  Just a family dinner. To most, that meant the family members in a household gathering around the table for a quick meal. For Eunice Gingerich, that meant everyone she could fit in her house. For Tillie, it was completely overwhelming.

  Hannah and Aaron had arrived some time ago with their three children. Jim, Anna, and their five had walked across with Dave, who at this point Tillie was glad had no children.

  “Gracie and Matthew should be here shortly,” Mamm said with a smile as she returned Peter’s enthusiastic wave.

  And that was another six. Add in Brandon, his friend Shelly, Mammi, and everyone else, plus Tillie made twenty-nine. That many people did not add up to a simple family dinner. Not even among the Amish.

  “Mamm—” Tillie started.

  But her mother shook her head. “Hush now, girl. We’re just happy you’re home.”

  And she was happy to be home. Wasn’t she? Except she didn’t feel all that happy. It wasn’t that she missed Melvin. She did. But she didn’t miss the life that they had built.

  Tillie touched a quick hand to her belly. Everyone seemed content to ignore the fact that she was nearly eight months pregnant.

  Or maybe they don’t care that you sinned.

  If that was the case, she was sure it was because they loved her. The rest of the community wouldn’t be so forgiving. And it was only a matter of time before her family would have to shun her as well. They wouldn’t be able to eat with her, take money from her, or even talk to her. A time of reckoning was coming, and she both wished it was already there and dreaded it, all in the same instant.

  “Everybody’s bringing food,” Mamm said. “And we’ve got paper plates and plastic cups. All we have to do now is eat and enjoy ourselves.”

  Tillie smiled. If only that were the truth. “We’ll still have to wash the serving spoons and the silverware,” she joked.

  “I think we can handle that.” Mamm’s eyes twinkled the same way they had when Hannah had come home. Suddenly Tillie felt horrible about leaving in the first place. She had made such a mess of it all.

  Tears rose and blurred her vision. Tillie blinked them away.

  Mamm took Tillie’s face into her hands and looked into her eyes. “This is a happy time,” she said, her voice firm. “We’ll have none of that.”

  “Right.” Tillie sniffed. She wouldn’t cry. Not tonight, but she knew there were a lot more tears in her future.

  * * *

  To say the house was full was an understatement. It seemed that wherever she stood, she was surrounded by babies, children, or siblings It was a warm feeling for certain, and one that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

  With so many people in one house, there was no eating around the table. Libby made Mammi a plate and took it into her room. Jim and Anna’s youngest son, Samuel, followed closely behind with his own supper. A couple of years ago, he had gotten “lost” and ended up in Mammi’s room. He’d only been two at the time and hadn’t realized the stir he had caused when he disappeared. Hadn’t known that the entire family was looking for him. But ever since then, he and his great-grandmother had had a special bond.

  Even with two tables, one in the dining room and one in the kitchen, a third table had to be set up for the smaller kids. And still that left the teens to find their own place to eat. Brandon, Shelly, Joshua, and Libby took their plates into the living room, leaving the adults at the two tables. In typical Amish fashion, the women ended up at one table and the men at the other.

  Tillie didn’t mind. She would have loved to talk to David a little more, but the men being in the other room meant her father took his disapproving stare with him. Abner Gingerich was a good man. He provided for his family and always had. He worked hard, feared God, and walked the line. But he was Amish through and through. He hadn’t said as much, but Tillie knew: he was ashamed of her and her actions. The worst part of it all was there was nothing she could do about it. The rules were the rules and she had broken them. She was pregnant and soon to have a baby. She wasn’t married, and she couldn’t bring herself to apologize for her situation. Somehow this child she had never met had become so important to her. She couldn’t call it a mistake. If her having a baby was part of God’s will—and how could it not be? God controlled the world—then how could His will be a mistake?

  “Don’t you think, Tillie?”

  “Huh?” She looked up at Hannah, realizing only then that she had been daydreaming at the table.

  “I told you she wasn’t paying attention.” Leah pointed her fork at her sister.

  “What?” she asked. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t hear.” Far from the truth, but she certainly couldn’t share her thoughts with them.

  Then who can you share them with?

  “I was just telling Leah and Gracie that since the weather is supposed to be cooler next week, we could mix the lotions here in the house.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Leah countered with a shake of her head.

  “But if we don’t make some more soon, we won’t have enough to fill any after-Christmas orders.”

  “Will there be many after-Christmas orders?” Gracie asked.

  “Yeah,” Leah said with a grin and a nod.

  “Your sisters and cousin have made quite a business for themselves while you were away,” Mamm said, directing her speech at Tillie. She said the words as if Tillie had merely been on some sort of mission trip and not off consorting with the English.

  “Jah?” She looked from Gracie to Hannah and Leah. Her older sisters might be twins, but they were about as different as two women could be. Hannah had brown hair and hazel eyes, much like Tillie’s own. Leah was the tr
ue beauty in the family, with her dark, dark hair and green eyes. And they had each been through so many different life experiences. Both had left the Amish long ago. Leah had soon after joined the Mennonite church, while Hannah had married a wealthy Englisher. A couple of years ago Hannah had returned, widowed and broke. But her story had a happy ending when she reconnected with her longtime love, Aaron Zook, and now they were married and raising his three children in the Amish way.

  She had tried to tell her, Tillie thought. Hannah had tried to tell her that the English world was hard, but Tillie had foolishly thought that she and Melvin would have it different than Hannah had. After all, she and Melvin had each other. So much for that theory.

  Gracie gasped and her eyes went wide. “You can join the business now that you’re back.”

  She started to protest, but Leah interrupted. “Don’t even say that you can’t. We have so many orders for Christmas that I even have Brandon and Shelly working on them.”

  “If you want me to,” Tillie murmured.

  “Not officially, of course.” Leah gave a wink. “But as long as you’re here, I see no reason for you not to help.”

  This might be the hardest part about coming back, the love and welcoming. For she knew it would be short-lived. She expected nothing less from her family, but it was hard all the same.

  The rest of the community wouldn’t be so easy. That was why she was waiting until after the baby was born before she told everyone that she wasn’t staying. She figured Mamm had already worked that out for herself. But Tillie needed some time with her family. Despite the fact that she couldn’t stay. Not unless Melvin changed his mind and came after her. And if he didn’t . . .

  It was something she didn’t want to think about. Not until she was faced with the choice. “What kind of business?” she asked. Much better to keep on the current subject.

  “We’ve started selling Mamm’s goat milk products in Leah’s store in town,” Hannah said.

  “Gracie has them in her shop in front of the house, and Mamm has a few out here,” Leah added.

  It was common in their community to have small stores in the front of their houses in which to sell homemade goods to the public—fresh vegetables and fruits in the summertime and canned goods, potholders, and other nonperishable items all year round.

  “Sales drop in the winter,” Gracie went on. “So Leah set us up with a website.” She shook her head, but her smile remained in place.

  Hannah laughed. “We had no idea people from all over would want to buy lotion and soaps made by a couple of Amish girls—”

  “And one Mennonite,” Leah interjected.

  “—from Mississippi,” Hannah finished.

  “So you really need my help?” Tillie asked.

  Hannah gave her sister a sympathetic look. “We really need your help.”

  “But the Ordnung,” Tillie protested. Hadn’t they violated the rules enough?

  “Pah,” Hannah said.

  Tillie blinked back the tears that prickled at the back of her eyes. This was a happy moment, and yet all she seemed able to do these days was cry. She supposed everyone would blame it on the hormones, but Tillie herself knew the truth. She was simply very, very sad—torn between two lives. And now that she had managed to get herself in a family way, she belonged in neither of them.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, then stood up and raced from the room.

  She heard them talking as she left, but she didn’t understand their words. Just their tone. Worry. Concern. Love.

  Despite the cool temperatures that the nighttime brought, Tillie headed to the front door. She stopped on the porch, stunned and a bit embarrassed. She shouldn’t have run out on her family. She should have explained. They loved her, and they would understand that she was overwhelmed. But the deed was done. She would need to stay gone for a few minutes, at least to give time for the dust to settle on her departure.

  She collapsed into the swing, rubbing her arms as the cold started to seep through the loose weave of her sweater. She couldn’t remain outside for long. Not without a jacket.

  The screen door creaked open and Leah stood there, one of their mamm’s crocheted afghans in her arms. “You okay?” Leah asked. She stepped onto the porch as Tillie nodded. Behind her, Gracie and Hannah pulled on their coats before heading out after her.

  Only three of them could fit on the swing. Leah and Hannah flanked Tillie while Gracie pulled up a chair and settled her girth into it. Her beautiful cousin rested a hand on her own rounded belly, and Tillie was filled with love and happiness for her. All Gracie had ever wanted was a family. Not only had she married a man with five children, she was due to have her own sometime after the new year, if the size of her belly was any indication.

  Leah spread the afghan over the three of them while Gracie pulled her shawl a little closer around her shoulders.

  How many nights had they sat out here just like this? Too many to count. Some with all four of them, then, later, after Hannah and Leah had gone, just Tillie and Gracie. She knew for a fact there weren’t many problems in life what couldn’t be solved on their front porch—her current state being one of them.

  “So,” Tillie started before anyone else could find their words to ask her about her flight from the supper table. “You and Matthew Byler, huh?”

  In the dim golden lamplight that filtered out from the front window, Tillie could see Gracie’s cheeks fill with color.

  “Jah,” she said, “me and Matthew Byler.”

  “Funniest story ever,” Leah added.

  “No.” Gracie shook her head. “We’re not going to start—”

  “So you remember Matthew’s wife, Beth? Well, she died,” Leah continued without waiting for Tillie’s answer. “That’s not the funny part. Anyway, Gracie goes over to Matthew’s to take him a pot of stew—”

  “It was a casserole,” Gracie corrected.

  “It matters,” Leah said with a scoff. “Anyway, she took him a casserole and then asked him to marry her.”

  Tillie had been rocking the swing back and forth using the heels of her feet, but at this revelation she stopped dead. “You did that?”

  If she wasn’t mistaken, Gracie’s color deepened until it was almost the same burgundy hue as her dress. “I was feeling a little desperate.”

  Desperate or not, that was a very bold move for an Amish woman.

  A moment of silence fell between them all before Gracie started up again. “It’s just that Matthew can be a bit stubborn,” she explained. “And he didn’t think he needed any help with the children. I knew that he did, but I also knew that the only way I would be able to truly help was as his wife.”

  She didn’t need to say how much she wanted a family of her own and how hard it was to find a man in Pontotoc that they weren’t related to. It was a challenge they had all faced at one time or another.

  “Well, I’m impressed.” Hannah used her feet to restart the swing while Tillie studied her cousin.

  Gracie made tiny little folds in the fabric of her apron. She had seen what she had wanted, and she had gone after it. Bold; scary; commendable.

  Tillie’d had that brashness once. It too had gotten her in the family way, but she didn’t have a home, a husband, and five little children to round out the one she carried. She hadn’t built the family that they had all been dreaming of since they were old enough to talk.

  “Tillie.” Leah’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Is Melvin coming back?”

  “No,” she quietly said. “I don’t think so.” She didn’t add that she hoped he would. This trip had been all about that. Making him realize that he wanted to return. Even if he didn’t know it right away. But as much as she loved him, she’d had to come home.

  “I don’t suppose . . .” Hannah let her question trail off.

  She didn’t need to finish for Tillie to know what she was asking: whether she and Melvin had gotten married. “No.”

  She didn’t have to say more, that since she and
Melvin were not married, if he didn’t come back and marry her, they would be shunned, excommunicated. And that would defeat her whole purpose in returning. She might be able to live close—it was still a free country—but she wouldn’t be welcomed by the church, by the friends, neighbors, and family that she loved so much.

  “So what now?” Gracie asked.

  “You know we’re here to help and support,” Hannah explained.

  “That’s right.” Gracie nodded, and Leah followed suit.

  “I know,” Tillie replied. She knew that they would help her in any way possible. That’s what sisters did. And even if by birth Gracie was their cousin, she was like a sister to them all. “But that’s all I know.” She wished it were enough. Love and support would help her through, but they wouldn’t make the tough decisions she now faced.

  “Let’s talk about something uplifting,” Leah suggested.

  “Tell me more about Peter,” Tillie asked, grateful for the change in topic. “When did he start talking?”

  When Jamie had first come down to Pontotoc to live, his nephew Peter was so traumatized by the fire that killed his mother, his father, and his baby sister that he didn’t speak a word. He too had suffered, with burns that left scars too big to hide and gave him a permanent limp. He had been understandably sullen and sad, but the little boy that Tillie had been reintroduced to this evening was a sight different than the one he had been when she had left.

  “Let’s see,” Leah mused. “I guess it was right after Jamie and I got married.”

  “Another thing you need to tell me all about,” Tillie demanded. She would much rather talk about her sisters’ triumphs and joys than her own heartache.

  “Tuesday,” Leah promised. She looked around at them all. “Jamie wants to get Peter a new puppy for Christmas.” She went on to explain for Tillie’s benefit how Peter’s first dog had died in the fire that had killed his family. Peter himself had been injured trying to save his dog and her pups. Then, after they had moved to Pontotoc, Jamie had taken Peter into town. He and Brandon had found a stray, matted and dirty, outside Leah’s store. They had posted signs, and someone had claimed the pooch as their dog. But not before Peter had fallen completely in love. To help combat his obvious grief over losing yet another thing he had begun to care about, Jamie had taken Peter to the Randolph Animal Shelter. “And I promise you, he picked out the oldest dog in the place,” Leah said with a laugh. “But they bonded, and there wasn’t any changing Peter’s mind. But despite his age at adoption, Duke lived a good long while. He died this summer.”