An Amish Husband for Tillie

by Amy Lillard

  Levi sighed. And Mims smiled. She knew she had him.

  “Let me get you a cup of coffee,” she said. She reached out a hand to him.

  Levi started toward her. “One cup of coffee,” he said.

  “And a plate of food,” she added.

  “One cup of coffee, one serving of cup cheese with pretzels. Then I’m out of here.”

  Mims slipped her arm through his. “One cup of coffee, one peanut butter sandwich with cup cheese, and a slice of cherry pie.”

  “Cherry pie?” No one brought cherry pie to church; only snitz pie.

  “At Mamm’s.” She smiled and patted his arm. “You can’t hide out forever.”

  Great, he thought. Except that hiding out was exactly what he wanted to do.

  Chapter Six

  Tillie stood in the yard, her coat wrapped as tightly around her as she could make it. She crossed her arms over her middle, like that hid anything. But at least it made her feel a little better, as crazy as that thought was.

  “What are you doing way over here?”

  Hannah.

  Tillie turned to her sister. “Just waiting.”

  “If you’ve got to be outside and not in the barn, you should at least get close to one of the heaters.”

  The day was sunny, bright, and clear, but there was a hard chill in the air. A few brave souls had spilled out into the yard, but most of them were collected around the gas heaters on the hardpacked drive. Huddling around a heater meant huddling around with people, and Tillie just wasn’t up for that. Not yet. And she had no idea when she would feel differently.

  Hannah scooted in close to her sister. “Did you get something to eat?”

  Tillie nodded. She had eaten a little. And only to say that she ate something. But being among all the friends, family, and church members with all their watching eyes took her appetite away. Maybe when she got home . . .

  “Not much changes here,” Tillie mused.

  Hannah glanced around the yard, then back to Tillie. “Nope. Not much at all.”

  “Except for you and Aaron.”

  Hannah gave a knowing smile and small shrug. “I guess.”

  It was a big change. Hannah had left the Amish when she was eighteen or twenty—Tillie couldn’t remember—and she hadn’t come back until just a couple of years ago, bringing with her an English son, Brandon. As if that wasn’t enough shock for the community, Aaron discovered that he was Brandon’s father and not Mitch, Hannah’s English husband. Mitch had died, leaving Hannah and Brandon in serious debt and without any means to pay it off. And then she had been faced with an angry Aaron who had missed the last fifteen years of his son’s life. But it all worked out for the best, Tillie supposed. Even with anger and hurt feelings, they managed to pull themselves together and become a family. Aaron’s wife Lizzie had gone to her reward a year or so before, leaving behind three girls and a boy who needed a mother as much as Hannah needed a reason to come back home.

  “And Leah and Jamie.” Hannah smiled.

  “Don’t forget Peter,” Tillie added. She resisted the urge to cup her belly. It was an instinctive motion meant to protect, but all it would do in the yard full of all these people—friends, churchgoers, and family—was point out that her belly was huge, that she had sinned, that she was ashamed, and all the other things that she didn’t want to attract attention to.

  “So is this where the party is?” Gracie waddled up.

  Tillie had never seen her cousin happier. In her arms she carried baby Grace, her youngest child. Tillie had already heard the story of how Grace had been increasingly unhappy until Gracie came and took over as her mother. Though she didn’t know all the tragic events—or rather, all the details of the tragic events—surrounding Matthew’s wife’s death, she had heard enough to know that it was indeed a tragedy. Yet it was one thing that no one seemed to discuss. Kind of like Tillie and the baby she carried now.

  “We’re talking about how not much changes here.”

  Gracie looked around. “I don’t know about that. I think a lot of things have changed.”

  Hannah shrugged. “I guess. But it seems there are some things that don’t ever change.” She nodded her head toward Nancy B, who had dragged the minister, Strawberry Dan, away from the warmth of the heater he had been standing by and over to a private spot just south of the barn. Nancy B had never married; never even pretended she wanted to. And Strawberry Dan felt that all women needed to be married, that all family needed to be made. It was something he preached about often and something that Nancy B felt just as passionate about, though on the opposite side.

  Tillie couldn’t help herself; she chuckled at the pair. It was a common sight to see them talking after church. Nancy B usually had something to say about the sermon, and not always something complimentary. It was true what they said when it came to Nancy B—being selected a church leader was just as much of a curse as a blessing. Or at least it had been for Strawberry Dan.

  “And then Levi Yoder,” Hannah said with a sad shake of her head.

  Levi Yoder. She’d seen him in church. He had been staring at her. Or maybe not. He’d simply been looking, and she caught him and then looked away. She figured that like everyone else in the district, he was assessing her, wondering why she came back, pregnant and unwed and with all the other horrible, shameful things that had happened. Things that she would ask forgiveness for, but things that would never be forgotten.

  “What about Levi Yoder?” It was so much easier to focus on someone else’s problems than her own.

  “His wife Mary died a couple of months ago,” Gracie said with a shake of her head. “It was tragic.”

  “What happened?”

  “Aneurysm,” Hannah supplied. “She was pregnant at the time.”

  “And the baby?” He wasn’t holding a child in church, but it could’ve just as easily been with his sister or his mother, or even Mary’s parents.

  Gracie just shook her head.

  Tillie gasped.

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Hannah said.

  Tillie shook her head. “No, I’m glad you told me.” Maybe that was why he was looking at her in church. He must’ve seen her before, must’ve heard about her situation. Though she was certain he didn’t understand the twist of it all. Mary and Levi were married and had their baby taken from them. And she was taken from her husband. Here Tillie was, unwed and on her own, and her baby was just fine. Was God playing tricks on them all? Unwed or not, she wanted this baby with all her heart.

  Lord, please forgive me my uncharitable thoughts toward You and Your plans for us. Amen.

  She wasn’t trying to be testy, but the hormones had been getting the better of her for some time. In fact, she was starting to wonder if they might have been the cause of some of the problems between her and Melvin. But that might be oversimplifying it. She had wanted to come home. She wanted to spend Christmas with her family. No matter how much time she spent with the English, Amish country would always be home.

  But already, she had grown weary. She was tired of being there, tired of being at church, tired of being watched, tired of everyone wondering, of them whispering when they thought she couldn’t see them or hear them. As much as she wanted to be home, she didn’t belong there. Not now. Would she ever again?

  * * *

  It took some doing, but Levi finally managed to give his sister the slip and headed home. He had done what she wanted, gotten some food, but he was not committing himself to going to his parents’ house today, sitting around, eating pie, drinking coffee, and acting like everything was just the way it should be. It wasn’t. Things were wrong, terribly wrong, and he hadn’t come to terms with it yet. His mom would want to make Christmas candy and cookies and cakes and the like to share with neighbors and anyone who happened to stop by. Just the smell of cinnamon made him think of Christmas. And ginger from the gingerbread and all the other traditions and smells that went along with the holiday. No, he’d much rather go home and hide
from all those familiar, heart-wrenching things, and pretend Christmas wasn’t just two weeks away and his Mary wasn’t gone.

  But he knew Mims would never let him get away with that. He had no sooner gotten his horse brushed down and back in the stall before Mims pulled up in her own buggy.

  “Levi Anderson Yoder,” she called as she hopped down from her buggy. She hobbled her horse and marched toward him. “Why did you just leave like that?”

  Levi shrugged. “Because I wanted to.” But he knew it was an excuse Mims would never accept.

  “You worried Mamm and Dat and even Dawdi.”

  Levi shook his head. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone. Everyone should know by now, I just need time.”

  “We know that. But you also need things to go back to normal.”

  Nothing would ever be normal again. Levi hooked one arm over his shoulder and motioned his sister to come into the house. He didn’t wait for her response, simply trudged up the porch through the front door. Of course, she was right behind him. She looked around at his house. The house he was supposed to share with Mary. Had shared with Mary for many years.

  “Where’s Puddles?”

  “Kitchen,” he said.

  She gave him a sigh and an exasperated look. “You know, you could speak in complete sentences.”

  Jah, he could. But some things just seemed to take too much effort these days. Not that Mims would understand any of that. His sister was bossy to the core.

  Without waiting for an invitation, or even asking for one, Mims marched toward the kitchen.

  She returned a few moments later. “Nope, no puppies yet.”

  Levi gave her a cunning look. “You gonna take one?”

  Mims’s eyes opened wide. “Am I going to take one? Where am I going to put a dog?”

  “In the barn like everyone else.”

  Mims laughed. “Your dog is in the kitchen.”

  He grunted. “Jah, well, it’s cold outside.” And it was Mary’s dog, named Puddles because when she was a puppy that’s what she made every time a person greeted her. Little puddles on the floor. Thankfully she had outgrown the habit; just not the name.

  “If I don’t take one, I suppose you’re going to want me to help you get rid of them.”

  “What are sisters for?” He ambled into the kitchen, knowing that Mims would follow.

  “You want me to make some coffee?” Mims asked.

  And if she stayed for coffee, she might not leave till almost dark. Did he really want company? On the other hand, could he really chase his sister away? Other than Mary and perhaps even David Gingerich, Mims was his best friend. But he and David had fallen out of touch years ago, and Mary was gone. Mims was all he had right now.

  He adored his sister. Not that he would ever tell her that. They’d gotten closer after their brother Daniel had died. It was a freak accident where he had been trampled by a bull in the pasture. They’d been trying to cut the beast from the herd. But something about Daniel had angered the bull, and he charged.

  It was a terrible death, but understandable, obvious. He could see Daniel’s injuries, the blood, broken bones. But Mary’s death had been so different. She hadn’t had a mark on her. Maybe that’s what made it so hard to take.

  “You have cookies?” Mims asked.

  “Did you make me any cookies?”

  “You know, I’m not going to do this forever, right? Come over here and make sure you got enough to eat and that you’re eating it? You’ll have to do this on your own soon.” But he knew she was all talk. And she was right—he should do this for himself. He couldn’t rely on his family forever.

  “Just give me until Christmas.” Or maybe the New Year, he silently added. He knew. He knew one day he wouldn’t feel quite the same heartache and loneliness like he felt then, but he couldn’t say when that time would be.

  Mims started the coffee and began opening the cabinets one by one. Upper for flour and sugar, lower for the mixing bowls and cookie sheets, then into the icebox for butter.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Speaking of Christmas,” Mims started, “are you going to decorate any at all?” She didn’t say as much, but he understood the unspoken You know Mary would’ve at least put up some pine boughs on the fireplace mantel. Nothing like fresh pine and a few sprigs of holly to put a person in the holiday spirit. “Making cookies.”

  Levi sucked in a breath; this was Mims. Busy, nosy, bossy, busybody, sweetheart. “I’m not going to decorate for Christmas. And isn’t making cookies a little much like work for a Sunday?”

  She already had half the ingredients dumped in the mixing bowl when she turned around and gave him a sly grin. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell. And wouldn’t you like to have some snickerdoodles this afternoon?”

  And there was the cinnamon. He might be able to handle the sentiment, but pine boughs and cinnamon would definitely do him in. No, he wanted to pretend that Christmas wasn’t coming.

  “Snickerdoodles sound wonderful,” he said. It was the truth and a lie all at the same time, but he wouldn’t hurt Mims for anything.

  She continued to smile as she turned back around and attended the dough she was mixing.

  “Remember that time that you and I went to the woods to get some mistletoe?” She laughed a bit at the end.

  Levi couldn’t help but chuckle a little himself. “Mamm was so mad.”

  “She thought you were going to use it to try to kiss people in town.”

  He shook his head. “Wonder why she would think that?”

  Mims shot him an innocent smile. “I have no idea.” Just like that, he once again knew his sister had set him up.

  Chapter Seven

  Maybe if she found herself a husband . . . But since Mims was approaching thirty, he might have to find one for her.

  Levi watched as his sister flitted around the kitchen. When snickerdoodles weren’t enough, she started on chili and a pot of stew.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said. “I have enough food for the week in the icebox already.”

  She waved away his protest and continued to stir the two bubbling pots on the stove. She tapped the handle of the wooden spoon against the rim and laid it across the top. Then she grabbed a pot holder and peeked at the cookies inside the oven. “I can’t have my only brother starving to death.”

  Levi shook his head. “That’s hardly going to happen.”

  Mims pulled the tray of cookies from the oven and set them on the hot pad waiting on the counter. Even with as much of a pang of nostalgia as the aroma of the cookies gave him, he had to admit they smelled delicious. The hardest part about snickerdoodles was waiting until they were cool enough to eat. “They’re calling for storms, you know.”

  He had heard some talk of the matter at church but hadn’t paid it much mind. Some men chose the color of their shirt depending on which way the wind was blowing. He wasn’t one of those. He kept up just enough to keep his soybeans and peanuts growing. Other than that, the weather was up to God.

  “That’s what they say,” he said.

  “Well, if it storms, I won’t be able to get out here to feed you. And then you will starve to death.”

  He shot his sister a look. “I’m a grown man, and I can get myself something to eat when necessary.”

  She shot him a cloying smile. “Of course you can.” Her voice was syrupy sweet. “I’m just trying to make it a little easier for you.”

  Levi sighed. It was an argument he wasn’t going to win. In fact, not many arguments with Mims were won by the other party.

  “I just love you, you know.” She had the cookies served up on a plate and at his side. The playfulness was gone from her tone, and in its place, a look of worry and concern.

  “I know.” He touched her hand. “I love you too. And I do appreciate all that you’re trying to do for me. But it’s too much.” Too much on a lot of levels. Too much for one person to take on, too much traveling back and forth between her house
and his, and too much time that forced him to spend with others.

  The sparkle returned to her blue eyes. “It’s not enough,” she said. “Now eat up.”

  Mims three, Levi zero.

  * * *

  She made it. Tillie bit back her heavy sigh as her father pulled the buggy down the drive. Behind her she could hear Hannah and Aaron in their buggy. Gracie and Matthew had opted to go home. Henry was in trouble again, but as far as Tillie could tell it wasn’t anything unusual. He seemed to be something of a stinker. But she loved his mischievous smile and the ornery twinkle in his eyes. Maybe because it reminded her a little of Melvin. He had never quite fit in either. And truth be known, she had never wanted to leave. She only left for him, and a lot of good it did her.

  “We should do something Christmassy,” Hannah said.

  “Like what?”

  Hannah shrugged. “How about making Christmas cards? We used to always do that.”

  “Christmas cards?” Tillie asked.

  Everyone had climbed down from the buggy. The women headed toward the house as the men took care of the horses. They would be a while, Tillie knew. Most men in their district liked to take time to talk about the weather and other things. A lot like she’d seen English men do—not so much in Columbus, but in Pontotoc, in town on Main Street. Sometimes right outside Leah’s store.

  She nodded. “We can get the kids to help,” Hannah said. “Then we can take them over to the nursing home, or even the veterans’ hospital. They always love things like that this time of year.”

  That was true. She knew there were a lot of people who didn’t take the time to make cards or go visit or anything like that. “Do you have a visit planned?” Tillie asked. A lot of times youth groups and buddy bunches would plan the event, then take the cards to the designated place on a certain day. The lucky recipients got the cards, Christmas cheer, and an unexpected visit all in one.