by Mindy Steele
Mamm huffed and turned back to the stove. “Of all the stuff,” she muttered, pulling leftovers out of the oven. “I raised you to treat all with respect and whatever ideas she thinks others might get, I expect you to walk her home when it grows dim out.” Mamm continued mumbling but Adam couldn’t make out a thing she was saying.
“She’s a smart maedel. with a heart for helping others,” Atlee sang from the sitting room. His parents were being awful chipper about his new partner. It was a little aggravating, but he knew they were right. Belinda had been kind to help, especially since she didn’t like stepping out of her comforts. And here he’d treated her like a child, making a fuss about everything from her clothes to her rebellion against gloves.
“She should wear gloves, but other than that, I like her bee outfit. Though I’m surprised the bishop lets her wear britches.” Adam’s father had a deep voice that tended to carry fully.
Adam unlaced his boots, walked into the sitting room, and dropped heavily into the recliner. “Bishop Schwartz doesn’t mind as long as it’s for tending to bees. I’m surprised you saw her wearing it. The window is too high for you to see out.”
“Oh, Belinda came to see me. You know how bored I get without company.” Atlee smiled widely.
“What am I, furniture?” Ada quipped from the kitchen.
“Nee, my love, you are a permanent fixture in my heart,” Daed quickly added, and gave Adam a wink.
“She came to see you in britches?” Adam rolled his eyes. He hoped his parents hadn’t caused her too much embarrassment. He knew them enough to know they would have poked and prodded at her agreeing to help.
“I invited her in,” his father explained. “She hesitated, but you know how convincing I can be.” Adam did. “I so enjoy her company. She isn’t a talker like some. Rambling is a waste of good air, I say.” That was true enough, Adam was quickly learning. Belinda wasn’t a talker, unless the subject was flowers or bees, and then she had plenty to say.
“I know you didn’t like Susanne all that well, but...”
Ada stepped into the room, her apron splattered with rib sauce, shaking a fork in his direction. “I liked Susanne well enough. As a Christian we are to love all, even chatty maedels with no good sense or a willingness to help another.” How Christian of you, Adam nearly responded, but he had no opening since his mother kept talking. “But a mother can’t tell a lie to her kinner. Belinda Graber is the kind of maedel worthy of you. She doesn’t spend her days running about with friends acting all willy-nilly. She helps her family, owns a flower business, and now she is helping you. Not to mention, she and Tabitha sent food over when your daed got out of the hospital. Susanne didn’t even bake a pie.” Mamm darted him a glare that dared him to deny it. “That one ran when things got tough. A man needs a fraa who isn’t afraid of a little hard work.” “Afraid” was usually Belinda’s middle name—or so he had thought. Tonight, it seemed like she was a lot of things. A walking contradiction.
Adam couldn’t deny Mamm’s words. Susanne did run, straight into another man’s arms, the moment Adam found himself solely responsible for his family. “You don’t need to play matchmaker. Belinda is nice and kind,” and beautiful, and surprisingly funny, “but she is just a business partner. That is all. Neither of us have an interest in courting. We like our lives just as they are.”
“How would you know that? Have you ever tried talking to her before you needed her help?” Mamm’s light blue eyes pierced him. “I know how you used to watch her all the time at church and gatherings, and don’t think we don’t know the reason Melvin had you mucking stalls three days straight.” Adam’s mouth fell open, his face turning crimson. Of course he had been a curious boy, and he’d long outgrown such childishness, but it was still embarrassing ten years later. Good thing they hadn’t a clue about all his mischievous ventures with Tobias.
Still, Mamm’s words stabbed him straight to the core. For so many years, he hadn’t approached Belinda because he didn’t want to scare her. Yet, he had found himself turning to her when he found himself in a jam. He swallowed hard. Guilt tasted bitter and a tad bit sharp. He had never thought himself selfish, yet he obviously was.
“I didn’t dare in school, because every time I got close enough to speak to her she would hide her face and tremble. No one wants to make someone scared enough to cry. She seemed like she’d rather help the teacher grade papers than make friends.”
“You know she was teased in school,” Mamm said solemnly, and went back to ready his plate. “She must have seen you staring at her and thought you were making fun,” she called behind her while heading into the kitchen.
“Ach, that birthmark,” Atlee added. “Kinner can be cruel.” He shook his head. “Well, you can’t even see it anymore.” Belinda’s birthmark was the size of a dollar piece and had been colored deep red when they were ten, but with the passage of time, it had faded into a soft strawberry hue that was easily overlooked. Sort of. Adam was finding he rather liked seeing it. It was like a small rosy kiss on her sun-stroked cheek.
“I’m going to wash up for supper. I’m starved.” He left the room and headed upstairs to the bathroom. He couldn’t handle any more talk about Belinda Graber in his own home. It was bad enough that she was starting to penetrate his daily thoughts. He lathered his hands, worked the soap roughly. When he rinsed the soap away, she still remained there, a perfect picture in his mind.
Chapter Thirteen
Belinda brushed a hand down her black apron front as she stepped inside the barn Sunday morning, a shadow behind her siblings.
Mammi had wandered off to chat with Betsy, the bishop’s fraa. This week marked the anniversary of the loss of the family’s youngest. Little Joshua had been only four when he choked to death, and he’d left a gaping hole in their hearts. Belinda glanced toward Abigale, the eldest Schwartz child, herding her siblings Daniel and Karen toward their seats. Belinda counted her blessings each night she never endured the loss of a sibling as Abigale had.
Nelly rushed to her side. “Did you hear?” Nelly tugged Belinda into a corner. She was a few inches shorter than Belinda, but Belinda always felt smaller somehow next to her friend, a mere shadow compared to Nelly’s strong presence. Nelly never lacked for confidence, an open mind, and the undivided attention of Caleb Esh. Three things Belinda would never have. “Caleb told me Susanne and Jerimiah went to see the deacon.”
Belinda gasped. Had Susanne been courting two men at once?
There was only one reason two people went to see the deacon: hoping for a marriage blessing.
Henry Schmidt and Nathan Byler, the two community ministers, moved past them, removing their hats and pinning both women with a warning glare. Not only was gossiping a sin, but they were going to be late taking their seats.
“That’s terrible,” Belinda whispered, as a clutch of older women hurried past. Belinda’s heart went out to Adam. On top of all the troubles he already had to endure since his father’s accident, he’d lost the woman he’d courted for the past year, and now she was marrying another so quickly. But even her sympathy had a note of disgruntlement to it. Why hadn’t he told her, instead of gripe about gloves and auctions? Because we are partners, not friends, she reminded herself. Still, her heart ached for him. Adam had hardly said a word when she helped him Saturday with May’s chicken coop. It seemed no matter what she did to help him, he remained prickly and sour. Instead they had worked in companionable silence and parted with the same.
“You think they will be published, today, here?” her voice squeaked out.
“That’s what Salina thinks, and she is closer to Susanne’s family,” Nelly said.
“I have to tell Adam; he will be devastated and embarrassed.” Belinda stepped from the corner, eyes searching through the gathering crowd filling the Lantz barn.
“I think we are too late for that.” Men were already hanging their hats, women already
filling the backless benches. With the exception of the two young women and a few lingering young boys who were in charge of putting horses out to pasture, everyone was assuming their places. There was no time to take Adam aside.
“We have to find a way to let him know,” Belinda said in a panicky breath. He didn’t deserve to find out without a warning first.
“Belinda, he is already seated. Look,” Nelly pointed as they stepped closer to a bench opposite him. “Besides, it could be just gossip. Maybe nothing will happen. If we tell him and it ends up coming to nothing, he will be angry with us. He will be angry with you, which might make him unwilling to help you sell your flowers. Besides, he might not care about the news.” The last thing Belinda wanted was a reason for Adam to be angry with her and no longer deliver her flowers for her. Still, the urge to do something niggled at her.
Why wouldn’t he care? She considered Nelly’s words as they took their seats. Caleb shared everything with Nelly. Did she know more about Adam’s state of mind, courtesy of his friend, than she was willing to share?
Lowering her head as the bishop began the opening prayer, Belinda whispered one of her own. When she lifted her head, Adam’s gaze was locked onto her. His brow furrowed in concern, clearly sensing her distress.
As the hymns began, she numbly sang through both songs from the Ausbund, the Amish hymnal book, while the elders slipped into a private area to decide who would deliver what message today. Belinda usually loved to sing the long verses, add a hint of harmony in the drab lowering bellows around her, but right now she could only watch a beekeeper across the room sing as if he wasn’t about to get stung.
Through the short sermon and the scripture Deacon Gingerich delivered, Belinda wrung her hands together nervously. Across the room Adam grinned at something Tobias whispered to him. The grin made her hope it was all gossip and she was worried for nothing.
Questions swirled in her mind until Nelly jabbed her in the ribs just as the long sermon ended and the closing prayer began. Now all there was left was the final song, and if there was an announcement to be made, it would be then. Her breath caught, but her eyes remained on Adam. As voices lifted, Belinda’s remained silent.
“I would like to make an announcement.” All eyes fell on Bishop Schwartz. Adam’s eyes collided with hers, and for a moment she wished he could read her thoughts. Instead he offered a slow smile and lowered his gaze. He hadn’t a clue, until he did.
“You all are invited in two weeks’ time, last Thursday in June I am told, to the home of Elmer and Kathy Zook.” Belinda could hear Salina gasp beside her, watched Tobias frown as if he could sense what was coming.
Adam’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He dropped his head, refusing to watch, but forced to hear. Belinda clutched her chest, where her heart was beating half to death as she watched a man’s resolve plummet in front of an audience. How many stones could be thrown at one man before leaving permanent damage, she wondered.
“Our community will witness the marriage of their daughter Susanne to Jerimiah Petersheim.” Tobias patted Adam’s knee. Belinda forced her gaze away, not to look at the beaming couple smiling at one another from across the room, but to take in the faces of the community she had purposely avoided most of her life. Some were smiling, some frowning. Nelly shot her an I told you so look. Ada Hostetler, who finally was able to attend a service now that Atlee was doing better, stared at her son with the same ache Belinda could feel. Across the room, Mica crossed both arms, watching the couple float sweet looks of affection toward one another. All remaining eyes were on Adam, who was staring at his shoes.
Adam didn’t stay for the fellowship meal and Belinda didn’t blame him. Ada insisting she didn’t want to leave Atlee alone for long had been the perfect excuse. Belinda gathered the empty plates and headed for the kitchen where Tabitha and Salina were doing dishes. At the sound of Adam’s name, she stalled in the doorway.
“I thought you and Adam were still courting. This was a surprise, but we are happy for you and Jerimiah,” Salina said, in that way Belinda knew was pure Salina sarcasm.
“Adam had no idea how to treat a fraa. He would rather play with bugs,” Susanne scoffed. Belinda’s gripped tightened on the stack of plates, her thumb slipping into someone’s neglected macaroni salad. Somewhere in the back of the kitchen, dishes clacked together, followed by the sounds of three women exiting the kitchen. Apparently some didn’t care for the conversation being held inside any more than she did.
“Daed says he makes a fine living with those bugs,” Rachel Byler chimed in. The minister’s daughter had a knack for politely reminding one not to speak ill of others. Her tolerance was limited.
“Have you and Jerimiah known each other long?” Marisa, Rachel’s twin, prodded. The eighteen-year-olds mirrored their dark-haired father, but Marisa earned a few extra admiring looks thanks to her curly hair. A dozen pins couldn’t hold it in place, no matter how she tried.
“We have been seeing each other for some time now,” Susanne admitted, her voice slightly arrogant. Belinda couldn’t stand by eavesdropping. She needed to put down the dishes and walk away before she said something she’d regret. She had never felt anger before, real anger, not like this. Susanne had courted two men at once, and Adam had lost. No wonder he was grumpy all the time. If her life had been hammered with so many sorrows so quickly, Belinda might have been just as crabby. She gingerly entered the room, skilled at mimicking shadows, staying out of the way.
“Jerimiah is sweet. He has so much to offer and wants all the same things I do,” Susanne continued. It was the only thing she said worth hearing. Couples should have similar interests and hopes. Still, Belinda put Susanne in that category where she kept people like Noel Christner. Avoid at all costs.
“And he would never ask me to work for him,” Susanne said, and this time her gaze set on Belinda as she walked toward the sink. It was no secret that she and Adam were helping one another. “I think it’s rude to ask a woman to do such meaningless work.” All eyes landed on Belinda, but this time, she didn’t feel the urge to reach up, cover her ugliness. Not with true ugliness staring her in the face.
“It’s a sin not to help someone in need,” Belinda responded, and carefully sat down the stack of plates to be washed.
“He only cares about work. Just so you know. Don’t be putting your hopes on him or you will be disappointed,” Susanne warned. Belinda faced her, staring her down. Mammi was right. It was what was inside a person that mattered, and Susanne’s insides weren’t very pretty.
Tabitha stepped forward from wrapping salad bowls. Of course her sibling would speak up for her, as she always had. Belinda turned and gave Tabitha a look that told her sister not to bother. She wasn’t a child anymore, and she was too old for words to hurt.
“I don’t expect anything, so how could he disappoint? He is stretched between obligations to his family while holding on to his livelihood. I find that as admirable as everyone else in this room does.” Despite the bees buzzing in her belly, Belinda forced a grin. She had never been the type to speak out in front of others, but it seemed required in the full kitchen with all eyes watching her, awaiting her reaction. In the past she would have run at any sign of confrontation, but it wasn’t about her now, was it? This was about Adam.
“Admirable? He wants to raise bees to support a family. It’s nonsense.”
“And I want a flower farm.” Why had she said that? “We all have talents and things that bring us joy and fulfillment. I’m sure if Jerimiah found himself in such a place as Adam, he would do what was most important too. I’m happy you found someone who is sweet and shares similar interests with you.” With that, Belinda strolled back out the kitchen door to finish her duty. There was work to be done. And she had no interest in anything else Susanne might have to say.
Chapter Fourteen
All the way to Shipshe
wana, Belinda was a basket of nerves. Once there, she shadowed Mica closely. Buggies and Englisch vehicles equally crowded the area, as did the people who came in them. A sea of straw hats, white kapps, and more bald heads than Belinda had seen in her lifetime milled about produce heaped in wagons and truck beds. A woman brushed by, her clothes barely covering more than a bathing suit would. Belinda would never understand such a need for attention that would drive a woman to dress that way. But a spark of envy defied her meekness, as she wished for unblemished skin and flawless features.
It was a whole new world and a scary adventure, coming here. Inside the auction house, crowds thickened and she quickened her steps to stay close to Mica’s side. Along the walls were crates, boxes, and large containers of produce, just as Adam had described Saturday while they repaired May’s chicken coop. The heat of the day had reached into the eighties, and she thought of Adam, wondered how hot and humid working in the mill all day would be, and how he was dealing with Sunday’s wedding announcement.
“You want to climb into my pocket, little sister?” Mica teased over one shoulder. He stopped and looked around, as comfortable here as he was in the hay fields. Belinda wished she’d inherited such abilities, but instead, her stomach twisted. She bit her lip and yes, wished Mica had bigger pockets.
“I saw a few men carrying in Graber strawberries and knew you must be close by.” The deep voice caused both siblings to turn. The dark-haired stranger looked vaguely familiar, but Belinda couldn’t place him. Maybe she’d have better luck once her head stopped spinning.
Mica stepped in front of her, and the men shook hands. “Abner Lapp. It wonders me if you might be lost. Pennsylvania is that way.” Mica pointed a thumb over one shoulder. Both men chuckled.
“Is this,” Abner peered around Mica. “Belinda?” He quickly removed his straw hat. His dark eyes widened in disbelief before his gaze steadied and trailed the length of her. “You are not a little girl any longer.”
