An Amish Picnic

by Amy Clipston

  “Nina?” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Anyone home?”

  She blinked but continued to stare at him. She couldn’t help it.

  He frowned. “Are you all right?”

  “Ya.” She sighed, never taking her eyes off his. “Everything’s . . . perfect.”

  He lifted his right eyebrow. “O . . . kay,” he said, giving her a strange look before reeling in his line. He glanced at her again. “If you say so.”

  Those last words brought her to her senses. She yanked her gaze away from his, her cheeks heating but not because of the July heat. Life was much simpler when she’d thought of Ira as only her best friend. That had changed at Cevilla Schlabach’s wedding a few months ago. She’d been playing volleyball, a game she loved, and as often happened, she was the only female on either side of the net. She and Ira were on the same team, and when they both went to spike the ball, they collided. The impact had knocked the breath out of her, and she’d crumpled to the ground.

  Ira, who was as solid as an oak door, had remained on his feet, but he immediately knelt beside her. “Nina! Are you all right?”

  She blinked, and when she looked up at him, it hit her. The man gazing at her with concern in his eyes was more than her best friend, more than the one person she could always be herself around without fear of judgment or rejection. And the warm, giddy feeling in her stomach wasn’t just because an hour earlier she’d witnessed a lovely wedding ceremony.

  Then the unexpected happened. She imagined spending her life with him. Or at the very least giving him a serious kiss.

  He grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet, and then he dashed off when he realized she was fine. But she was far from fine. She was in love with Ira Yoder . . . and she had no idea what to do about it.

  What she couldn’t do was tell him how she felt. As an introverted, stocky woman who loved to fish, she was used to having male friends. But it was a stretch to think Ira would find her wife material. Nina had to keep reminding herself of that. Unfortunately, it was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day—and in today’s case, each passing minute. What is wrong with me?

  They fished in silence. Nina usually enjoyed fishing. No matter how tense she was or how stressful a week she’d had working as a maid at her family’s business, Stoll Inn, she was always relaxed with a pole in her hand, the sounds of nature around her, and Ira at her side. She didn’t want to ruin all that by acting seltsam.

  She felt a tug at the end of her line and pulled on her pole. “I think I caught one,” she said, distracted from her weird reactions to Ira for a moment.

  “About time one of us did.” Ira got to his feet and picked up the creel dangling in the water by the bank of the pond on Jalon Chupp’s property. Jalon was both Ira’s neighbor and related to him by marriage. But anyone Jalon knew had an open invitation to fish there.

  Nina reeled in the fish, but she was only halfway there when the line grew taut. “I think it’s stuck on something.”

  Ira dropped the creel back into the water and came up beside her. “You’re going to snap the pole.”

  She relaxed her line and then pulled on it again. “I can feel it give way.” She gave it a yank, but the line moved only a few inches.

  Ira stepped behind her and put one large hand over hers and the other on the pole. “One, two, three!”

  But Nina couldn’t move. Ira was closer to her than he’d ever been, and even though she knew he was just helping her reel in the fish—which was probably just a branch instead, considering how stuck the hook was—her breath caught in her throat. He smelled like sunshine, fresh air, and summertime. They weren’t actual scents, but she didn’t care. He was practically embracing her, and for that moment, she was in heaven.

  Then she felt the line give way, and Ira removed his hands. “You can reel it in now,” he said, stepping to the side.

  “Reel what in?” she said, distracted once more.

  “The fish, Nina.”

  “Oh.” She turned the reel’s handle and it moved smoothly. When she lifted the line out of the water, a small sunfish dangled from its end.

  “All that trouble for this little thing?” Ira took it from the hook and put it in the creel, which they both did when the other person caught a fish. Then he sat down where he’d been sitting before. “Nice catch anyway.”

  She slowly sat down next to him. Her mouth went dry as she noticed his tan forearms and biceps peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. He was tall, like his brothers. But they were wiry while Ira was broad and at least six inches taller than Nina. They were sitting so close to each other that, if she wanted to, she could lean her head against his strong-looking shoulder. She was sorely tempted.

  She sat up straight. Good grief, what was going on with her today? Although she’d accepted that she was in love with Ira, she’d managed to keep a tight rein on her emotions when they were around each other—like when they fished together last Saturday, when she played softball with him and the Bontrager men on Sunday afternoon, and when she took leftover blueberry muffins her grossmutter made over to the Yoders’ the other day. Granted, she’d taken the treat partly as an excuse to see Ira again, but she’d still managed to act like nothing had changed between them when she handed him the basket of muffins.

  For some reason, though, today was different. She just hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  Ira leaned back and cast his line, appearing to be unaffected by their closeness, for which Nina was both thankful and disappointed. “Daed’s thinking about hosting a singing soon,” he said, glancing at her.

  Nina’s stomach flipped. “I didn’t think you had traditional singings here.”

  “We haven’t in a long time.” He shrugged. “Never made much sense when it was all men and only one or two women. Most of us don’t care for singing anyway, except during church.”

  She didn’t mind singing, although she wasn’t skilled at it. But she had minded going to singings back in Wisconsin. They were awkward for her as she watched all the cute girls capture the young men’s attention while she was off to the side. Every once in a while, she would have a conversation with a boy, but it was always about fishing or sports. That didn’t bother her too much, because they were topics that interested her. But as she grew older, she realized she would always be just the tomboy buddy to them.

  Just like she was to Ira. She sighed.

  “You don’t like singings?” Ira lifted a brow.

  “Oh, they’re all right.” She tried to keep her tone casual as she brushed her fingertips over the vibrant green grass. “Why does yer daed want to hold one after all this time?”

  “It’s for the younger kinn, like Judah’s age. Over the past few years more families have moved to Birch Creek, but the kinner were young when they arrived. Now a few of them are old enough to attend a singing.”

  Nina stared at the pond. She still hadn’t cast her line, and she wasn’t thinking about catching fish. Ira was twenty-two. Would he be interested in someone a bit younger? Or interested in anyone at all? The thought twisted something sharp in her heart. “Are you, uh, going?”

  “I might not have a choice since the singing will be at mei haus.” He tugged on his line again and looked at her. “Why haven’t you cast yer line? You’re not done for the day, are you?”

  She looked at the pole in her hand, the empty hook dangling at the end, and then halfheartedly cast it.

  “You forgot the bait,” Ira said. He frowned. “You’ve been acting weird today, Nina. Did something happen at the inn?”

  She quickly shook her head and reeled in the empty line. Great. He’d noticed her strange behavior. She had to get it together. “Everything’s fine at the inn. In fact, we’re booked solid for the next month.”

  “Does that mean you won’t get to fish every Saturday?”

  She looked at him, wondering if some meaning was hidden behind the question. Would he miss their fishing afternoons? Would he miss her? “Nee,” she said.
“I don’t expect that to change.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t say anything else. They were both quiet as they continued to fish, which gave her heart time to settle down. When it was nearly suppertime, the single sunfish Nina had caught was still their only catch of the day.

  She set her pole on the ground and picked up the creel. One fish didn’t seem worth the trouble, so she let it go and then untied the creel and shook out the excess water. When she turned around, Ira was already on his feet, fishing pole in hand.

  “See you next Saturday?” he said.

  She nodded, forcing a smile. She’d have to get her wits together before then, or Ira would really think something was wrong with her. “Ya, next Saturday at the usual time.”

  He gave her a smile, making her stomach flip again, this time in a good way. Then he headed for the opening in the copse of trees that surrounded the pond. They almost always parted ways there, one of them leaving before the other. Occasionally, she’d decide to walk to his house with him, so she could say hello to his parents. But mostly they left separately, and that had never bothered her before.

  She was plenty bothered now, especially realizing that she was always the one who walked him home. He’d never walked her home, one more piece of evidence that he thought of her as nothing but a friend. Or even worse, like she was his sister. Ugh.

  Fishing pole in one hand and creel in the other, she realized something else as she made her way back to the inn. Ira had brought up the singing but hadn’t invited her to be there. He hadn’t even asked if she was interested in going. Her heart sank to her toes. She’d never had so much as a crush on anyone before, and she certainly hadn’t known that unrequited feelings could be so painful.

  And why did she love Ira when plenty of young, single men lived in Birch Creek? But no, she had to fall for a man who had zero romantic interest in her. “I’m not liking this irony, Lord,” she said, scowling as she lifted her gaze to the dusky sky. “Not one bit.”

  * * *

  As Ira made his way home, his thoughts weren’t on the fact that he hadn’t caught a single fish today—although that pricked his ego a little since he considered himself a good fisherman. He was thinking about Nina. She’d been acting strange today, and he wondered what was going on with her. He didn’t believe her when she said everything was fine. He’d seen her staring at him more than once and vacantly out at the pond as if she had something on her mind. She certainly hadn’t been focused on fishing. He’d never seen her forget to bait her hook.

  But something else gave him pause, enough that he slowed his stride before he reached his house. When he saw her struggling with the fish, his instinct to help had kicked in. That was fine. But when he’d moved behind her to help her reel in the stubborn fish, without thinking, he’d put his arms around her. Then when she leaned back, instantly, fishing was the last thing on his mind.

  The top of her head had reached his chin, and he’d breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo. Nina worked as a maid at her family’s inn, but she always showed up for their fishing times wearing a clean dress and smelling nice. Noticing that wasn’t a big deal. But he’d paid attention when he realized she fit perfectly in his half embrace.

  Nina Stoll was a stocky, athletic girl, a contrast to the women he’d grown up with in his community. She looked nothing like his sister-in-law, Martha, whom he’d had a crush on before she and his brother Seth got together. Nina was different in appearance—and personality—from any woman he’d ever met. And the thought of putting his arms completely around her had given him pause. A big pause. Fortunately, she’d been so preoccupied that she hadn’t noticed.

  He shook his head. What was he doing, thinking about embracing Nina? This wasn’t the first time he’d helped her reel in a fish, and she had done the same for him—although he’d helped her more than she’d helped him. Why was this time so different?

  Ira shook his head again, pushed the troubling thoughts out of his mind, and quickened his steps. When he reached his family’s property, he headed for the shed and put his fishing pole away. He had to take Nina at her word when she said nothing was wrong. They’d been friends long enough—best friends, if he had to put a label on it—that he knew if she wanted to confide in him, she would. He needed to respect her space. Besides, everyone had an off day occasionally. Seems like today was an off day for both of us.

  He brought the cows back in from the pasture and fed them. The barn still smelled faintly like new wood, even though it had been built a year and a half ago, after the fire that had burned down almost everything on the farm except their house. But they were back in business again, thanks to help from the community—and especially from Nina. She often came and pitched in. He’d been concerned he was taking her away from the inn, but at the time they hadn’t yet opened. When they did, Stoll Inn had a slow start, but now business was picking up, and he was glad for the family.

  After finishing his chores, Ira went inside the house to wash up for supper. The comforting scent of chicken wafted into the mudroom, making his mouth water. His mother’s chicken potpie was the best. After he washed his hands in the kitchen, he leaned against the counter and talked to Mamm as she prepared a salad. A minute later, his father walked in, his brother Judah trailing a little behind.

  It was hard to believe their family had shrunk so much in the past three years. But with his sisters Ivy and Karen married and Seth marrying Martha last year, it was just Ira and Judah and his parents at home. That made him think about the singing his father had been talking about. One of the main purposes of singings was to give young people the chance to socialize with the opposite sex. That would be nice—if Birch Creek had any single women his age. Well, there was Nina, but she was a friend. The rest of the girls in their community were way too young for him. Still, the odds of his father allowing him to skip the singing were slim to none.

  He sat down as his mother put the salad on the table, already set for supper. When everyone was seated, they bowed their heads for grace. Then after their silent prayer, they passed around the dishes.

  “Margaret called me today,” Mamm said.

  “Johnny and Doris’s daughter?” Daed looked surprised.

  “Ya. You and yer bruder might not keep in touch, but her mother and I do. Margaret wants to come for a visit.”

  “Just her, or the family too?”

  “Just her. She asked if she could stay for a couple of weeks. She wants to visit us, but she’s also interested in seeing Birch Creek because she’s heard so much about it from mei letters to Doris.”

  “That’s nice,” Daed said. He scooped up a healthy serving of chicken potpie. “She’s welcome to stay as long as she wants.”

  Ira hadn’t seen Margaret in years. His family had lived in Birch Creek since before he was born, and they’d visited his uncle Johnny’s family in Holmes County only once or twice. His uncle also owned a farm, and while the two brothers got along just fine, they both liked staying close to home. Memories of one of their visits came to Ira’s mind. Johnny had four daughters, and Margaret was the youngest, two years younger than Ira. She was also a tomboy, and he remembered how she would always try to keep up with him and Seth.

  “She’ll be here Friday evening,” Mamm told them.

  Daed frowned. “We’ll be in Cleveland on Saturday for the tall ships festival.”

  Ira had forgotten about that. Every year a festival in Cleveland celebrated the history of tall ships and the maritime industry in the area. Judah and his father were history buffs, and this year was the first time they could go see the several tall ships in the harbor. Ira wasn’t interested in going, but he suspected his mother wasn’t just going along for the ride.

  “I guess we could stay here.” Judah stirred the filling of his potpie with his fork but didn’t look up.

  “I know how much you’ve been wanting to see the ships,” Mamm said. “We’re definitely going.”

  Judah grinned and then went back to eating his meal with gu
sto.

  “Karen and Ivy will be out of town too.” Mamm turned to Ira. “I don’t want Margaret to spend her first day here alone, so I’d like for you to take her with you when you geh fishing on Saturday. I’d also like you to introduce her to Nina.”

  For some reason the idea of taking Margaret along bothered him. Nothing against her, but Saturday afternoons were his and Nina’s time. He realized he didn’t want the intrusion. Neither he nor Nina had ever invited anyone else to join them.

  “Is that a problem?” Daed said, giving Ira a firm look before taking a bite of his potpie.

  “Nee,” he said. “It’s not.” He didn’t want to be disrespectful.

  “I think she and Nina will hit it off well,” Mamm said.

  That was probably true. It was hard not to like Nina once you got to know her. She did like to keep to herself, but that wasn’t a bad thing. He also knew she’d struggled a little with Martha marrying Seth because Martha had been her first friend in Birch Creek, and now they didn’t see each other as often. Then her brother, Levi, had just married Selah in May, the only other single woman in Birch Creek who’d been around Nina’s age. Now that he thought about it, his mother was right. It would be good for Nina to make a female friend, even if it was short-term.

  Despite that, he still didn’t like the idea of a third person fishing with them. He was used to it being just him and Nina. Fishing with her was comfortable, easy, and relaxing—a time he looked forward to every week. Since the fire, he and his family had been working overtime to get the farm back to what it had been. Ira’s father was also the bishop, and he had glaucoma. His condition was controlled with medicine, but the doctor had advised him not to do certain things, which meant more jobs for Ira and his brothers. Ira didn’t mind hard work, and he enjoyed farming, but looking forward to his weekly fishing date with Nina helped the week go faster.