by Mary Ellis
He presented the flowers with a flourish when he reached her bench. “Flowers, and not an exotic bloom to be found. Picked by me in my mom’s garden just this morning. Every last one of them indigenous to Holmes County, Ohio.”
“Indigenous, hmm. At least they’re teaching you big, fancy words up in Wooster.” She accepted the bouquet but arched one eyebrow. “Did you ask before you went wild with your clippers?”
“I did. Ma said I should take all I wanted, and she sends her get-well wishes.” He sat down beside her under the sheltering willow.
“I’m not sick,” she protested. “Tell her I am well, just my legs are still a little rusty. Shall we lumber on down to the pond? You can check if Leah’s ready to take a break from the hot kitchen. She’s been baking up a storm. I’m not sure if you come to visit me or eat my sister’s creations.”
James placed an arm on the back of the bench, careful not to touch her. The enormous bouquet sat between them. “Only you, sweet girl, but let’s sit a spell and not walk quite yet. I’ve got something on my mind, and I might as well come out with it. School is starting back up next week.” He could feel his palms start to sweat with nervous apprehension. Emma folded her hands primly in her lap, waiting.
He looked away from her innocent face. “Shucks, Emma. You know I love you, don’t you?” He glanced back from the corner of his eye.
She cocked her head to the side. “I suspected as much, considering how many times you visited me in the hospital and in the rehab unit. After I came back home, you haven’t missed a Wednesday evening or Saturday afternoon since my father said you could come calling.”
He met her gaze. “Do you love me, Emma? I need to know before I go any further with my big ideas for the rest of our lives.”
A sad expression flickered across her face. “I do love you, Jamie, but I know I wouldn’t be happy being English. And that leaves us in the same tight spot we were in before.”
He felt tremendously buoyed by her admission of love. If she loves me, all things are possible, aren’t they?
“Well, not exactly.” He couldn’t stop grinning. “What if we met somewhere in the middle? I’ve been going to a New Order Amish church with Sam Yoder for the past nine months.”
“Jah, I heard as much from Sarah Hostetler. I’ve been wondering why since Sarah said their services are in German, same as Old Order. Did you learn a second language while you were studying hard at your fancy college?” Mischief sparkled in her pretty blue eyes.
“Nope, I have enough trouble with English. And I’ll admit, even though they throw in some English during the service, the language barrier still presents a challenge.” He winked and then glanced around. “But when I talked to one of their ministers, I learned their Christian beliefs are pretty much the same as my evangelical church. And they use tractors to farm instead of teams of draft horses and mules. Most districts have electricity in both their houses and barns. If you changed to New Order, you would find their style of dress basically the same, and their church services are held in folks’ homes like what you’re used to. They study the Bible more than Old Order, but that’s something we’re both doing already.” He couldn’t tamp down his growing enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t mind giving up blue jeans for Plain clothes and growing a beard after we get hitched. I’d planned to do that anyway. Shaving seems like a big waste of time for a farmer.”
Emma shook her head, but she smiled. “Aren’t you forgetting one little thing, James Davis?” She bobbed her head toward the drive.
“What’s that, Miss Miller? I bought some ‘Learn to Speak German’ CDs already,” he teased. “And I’ll bet the bishop will allow me to keep my English-language Bible.”
“I’m talking about something green and shiny and sitting right over there.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It won’t be easy to give up my truck and start driving a horse and buggy. But since I’ll still be managing my dad’s farm, he can take me when I need to travel a great distance. I know it’ll be a big adjustment for both of us. New Order is more vocal about their beliefs than what you’re used to, and they get involved with community outreach, but why don’t we at least give it some thought? Next year when I’m twenty and finished with college and you’re eighteen, we can become baptized in the New Order church.”
Emma looked happier and more relaxed than she had in a long time. “Why do you want to do this, Jamie? Why would you be willing to take up Amish ways and change your life so drastically?”
He didn’t answer right away so she wouldn’t think him impetuous or insincere. “I’ve had plenty of time to think while commuting back and forth to Wooster for the past year. And I’ve come to a few conclusions. I pretty much don’t like school. I plan to cram the rest of my agricultural courses into next year to finish my education in two years instead of four. Sort of a compromise with my folks.”
“No more research on growing bananas in Holmes County?” Emma teased, leaning back against the bench.
“Not for me, pretty girl. I’m willing to content myself with apples, peaches, and pears.” James grinned and then gazed toward the western hills. They were bathed with the golden light of a setting sun. “I realized I’ve only ever wanted two things in life—one is to be a farmer. And the other is to marry Emma Miller of Winesburg. Everything else that comes my way I can adjust to if you’ll be my wife. I plan to get baptized in New Order next summer, right after I finish my last semester. I’ll give up my truck and pick out the plainest buggy I can find. Horses I’ve got plenty of, and I’m sure Matthew could train one to pull a buggy.” He paused, giving her a chance to mull things over.
She appeared deep in thought and then she nodded her head as a smile turned her pretty face beautiful. “You really think you can give up zippers, buffalo plaid shirts, and your Cleveland Indians ball cap?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“All right, next summer I’ll be eighteen. If we both still feel the same, I’ll take the kneeling vow in a New Order church too. But I won’t marry you for another year after that.” She set her jaw with determination. “You must live Amish for a full year before we wed. Marriage is a sacrament, besides a lifetime commitment. Plain folk don’t believe in divorce, so you can’t just shave off your beard and go out and buy some Levis. I want you to be very sure, Jamie.”
James exhaled his pent-up breath. “Fair enough, Miss Miller, but I want one more thing before I go find your sister for that walk.” He leaned close and smelled the clean scent of Ivory soap. “Tell me again you love me.”
She arched her neck and met his eye. “I love you, James Davis, with my whole heart. And I have for a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it…even to myself.”
For Emma, pledging her love and fidelity to James, promising to marry him in two years, was the easy part. Telling her parents she planned to leave her Old Order district in a year before her baptism was another matter altogether.
Emma thought long and hard, and she prayed nightly for weeks before she was ready to broach the subject. Chicks flying too far from the nest were nothing but heartbreak to Amish parents. She also thought it best to tell her folks separately.
On a chilly but sunny October morning she found the opportunity. Mamm sat alone in the kitchen, sipping coffee and reading the Daily Journal. Leah, usually a fixture in the kitchen these days, was nowhere to be seen.
“Guder mariye,” Emma greeted and limped to the coffee pot. The aroma drew her like a bee to nectar.
“Good morning to you, daughter,” Julia said. “And where is the walker?”
“I left it in the hallway. My legs are getting stronger, so unless I’m going quite a distance, I don’t plan to use it.”
“That’s good to hear. What a blessing.” Julia sipped her coffee while studying her eldest child.
Emma slipped into a chair with her mug. “Mamm, are you going to the quilting bee this week to sort squares for the ladies?”
Julia laughed, a welcome sound since her recovery from knee surg
ery. “I do more gabbing and nibbling snacks than helping with the quilt, but I’m going. Why do you ask?”
“I’d like to come too. There’s nothing wrong with my hands. I can help with the quilt. I hear it’s for Sarah Hostetler.”
Julia grinned with delight. “I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. Does this mean you’ll start back with Sunday singings?” Hope resonated in her question.
Emma patted her mother’s hand. “No. No singings for me, but I’ll attend any work bees or the like. If I go to singings…people might think I’m ready to start courting. And I have no wish to give that impression.”
Julia’s smile faded. “So you’ve decided on James Davis then? You want to become part of the English world?” She couldn’t hide her disappointment.
“No, mamm. I do love James and hope to wed him in a couple of years, but I’m not leaving my Plain faith. James is becoming Amish.”
Julia couldn’t have looked more surprised if Emma had said they were relocating to Pluto after the wedding. “That is almost never done,” she said.
“Jah, that’s what I told him, but we will join a New Order district. That way he can continue to farm with tractors and electricity.”
Julia nodded sagely. “I see, but it will still be a very big change—his clothing, giving up his truck, maintaining a lifestyle where God is the main focus. Giving up worldly pursuits.”
“He is a devout Christian already. Living a Plain lifestyle will make it easier for him in some ways.”
Julia furrowed her brow. “Does he realize that the preaching services will be in German, same as ours?”
Emma laughed. “Jah. He’s been going to services already with Sam Yoder. And he’s studying German along with his agriculture courses.”
“Ach, Emma. You’re not considering the cultural differences. It goes deeper than German preaching or a horse and buggy. Englischers have been raised to believe they should be unique, that they should stand out in some way. The Amish find comfort in conformity and blending into a community. Individuality has no purpose on the path to salvation. Are you sure you’ve both thought this through?”
Emma reached for her mother’s hand. “I have. We will not marry until we’ve both lived as members of New Order for one full year. He must find a way to live Amish at his parents’ farm. He must make the change long before the wedding.”
Julia looked at her differently somehow, as though no longer seeing Emma as a little girl.
“I don’t want him to have any regrets,” said Emma softy. “He must be very sure about this.”
“That is wise, daughter.” Julia nodded and appeared to mull over the avalanche of news thrust upon her.
Emma knew her mother wouldn’t give her blessing until Simon did. Amish wives never wished to be at odds with their husbands in matters involving kinner. “I think I’ll go find daed and tell him,” Emma said. “I might as well get this over with before I lose my courage. I’m afraid he won’t be as willing to hear me out as you have been.”
“Since your accident you have shown the courage of three women,” Julia said. “Why don’t you let me break the news to your father? I know how he can fly off the handle before listening to the particulars.” Julia furrowed her forehead with wrinkles. “He will be more patient with me. You go sit on your bench under the willow. I’ll send him over to talk once he’s over the initial shock.”
Emma hugged Julia tightly. “Danki, mamm. You are the best mamm in the world.”
“Hush now, before you make me prideful with that kind of talk.”
At that moment Leah breezed into the kitchen with a full bucket of late pears. “Who’s in the mood for poached pears for dessert?” she asked. “Poaching will soften up these dried leftovers nicely.” She placed the bucket in the sink and then turned toward the other women.
“I am,” Julia and Emma answered together.
Emma struggled clumsily to her feet. “I’ll be back later to help you, sister,” she said. After a final glance at her mother, she limped from the warm kitchen to await her fate under the willow tree.
She concentrated on where she placed each foot along the path so she didn’t stumble with her newly regained mobility. Emma hadn’t noticed which way Julia had headed when they left the house. Once she lowered herself to the bench, the next five minutes were spent perspiring and trying to recover her breath. It would be a while before she got back the energy and stamina she’d had before her accident.
But she didn’t have long to wait for her father. By the time her legs stopped aching and her heart rate returned to normal, Simon was heading her way. He crossed the lawn from the milking parlor with a posture stooped from back pain. But Emma noticed he walked faster than his usual slow shuffle…and he was smiling.
Emma also saw that his eyes were moist and glassy, as though on the verge of tears. How she yearned to run to him, but with her weak legs on uneven ground she didn’t dare. Rising to her feet, she stretched both arms out to him. “Did she tell you?” Emma asked, with a voice sounding pitiably young for a recently engaged woman.
Simon took her hand and drew her into a hug. His chore coat smelled faintly of alfalfa hay. He settled one arm around her shoulders while he supported her back with the other. “She did, daughter. She also said you were afraid to tell me your decision.”
Emma, though close to his height, laid her head on his shoulder the way she’d done years ago as a child. “I didn’t want to upset you, not after what you’ve been through already.”
He stroked the back of her head, knocking her kapp askew. “Emma, Emma, I’m so blessed to have my girl back safe and sound. It would take much more than you turning New Order to upset me these days. More than anything, I want you to live a long, healthy, God-fearing life. And if that means you must change to a different order, then so be it.”
“You’re not unhappy that I plan to marry James in two years?” She held her breath while waiting for his answer.
Simon glanced at the sheep grazing in the far pasture before replying. The animals happily chewed grass without a thought about their remaining days on earth. “God will guide your decision as to whom you marry when the time comes. Keep your heart always open to Him. If it be His will, then I’ll not stand in your way, though the adjustments will be difficult for both of you.” Simon turned Emma’s face so he might peer into her eyes. “Right now, the only thing that could upset your mamm and me would be if you moved far away and we’d seldom get to see you.”
Emma hugged her father tightly. Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked. “Don’t worry, daed. I couldn’t live apart from my family. No matter what happens during the next two years or whether or not I marry James, I’ll never be far from home.”
Autumn
Emma walked very slowly and began panting like a dog, but eventually she reached the fence of her sheep pasture. From there she could oversee Henry as he filled the water stanchions and delivered enriched grain to the troughs. She couldn’t wait until she was able to resume her chores. Henry looked forward to that day too. Although he worked without grumbling, he cheered each one of her victories louder than anyone else. The road to recovery was difficult, but Emma pushed through the pain. She had a bright future ahead of her with James.
Gingerly, she stepped up onto the lowest fence rail and transferred her weight to the better of her two legs. Wincing with pain, she dragged her stiff leg up to the rail. From this vantage point, she could gaze over her late-season nursing lambs, her ewes in need of shearing, and the horned ram who strutted around as though he owned the place.
“What are you doing up there? Get down before you fall and break something!” a voice squawked from behind her. Leah-the-mother-hen grabbed her tightly around the waist and didn’t let go until both Emma’s feet were on the ground.
“Why do you coddle me worse than mamm?” Emma huffed, grasping the rail.
Leah ignored this and asked her own question. “Where have you been? I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
A tiny hitch in her voice revealed her emotional state.
Then Emma noticed Leah’s cheeks were streaked with tears. “I’ve been right here. What’s wrong, sister? Have you been crying?” She braced a hand on Leah’s shoulder.
“It’s daed,” she moaned. “He said I’m too young to go to town alone and he’s too busy to take me. And Henry’s got chores, mamm has a headache, and Matthew is working at the horse farm.” Another tear slipped from beneath her dark lashes. “I’ll be fourteen next week; I’m finished with my schooling, and yet mamm still treats me like a boppli!” Indignation was rapidly replacing sorrow.
“You’ll always be her baby,” said Emma, tugging one of Leah’s kapp strings.
“Henry is the baby. Besides, I have business in Winesburg.” One hand perched on a bony hip.
“What kind of business do you have?” Emma laughed merrily until Leah’s frown turned ominous.
“My pie-baking business. The cook who works at the auction barn cafeteria sampled one of my pies at a quilting bee. She said it was the best rhubarb she’d ever tasted.” Pride glowed in Leah’s young face. “She hired me to make the unusual pies, to see if any could become regular features on the menu. The cook will continue to bake apple, cherry, peach, and coconut cream.”
Emma grinned with delight. “That’s wunderbaar! What oddball pies does she want you to bake?”
Leah lifted one dark eyebrow. “Danki, Emma, but I prefer the word ‘unusual’ instead of oddball.” She paused briefly to make sure her meaning was clear. “She wants rhubarb, sweet potato, and walnut pie.”
“I’ve never heard of walnut pie.”
“It’s similar to pecan, but with a substitution of walnuts since no pecan trees grow here.”
“Oh, that makes sense. How exciting this must be for you. What can I do to help?” she asked.
Emma regretted the hasty offer the moment the words left her mouth, knowing the answer already.
“Thank goodness. I was hoping you would offer. I need you to ride with me to Winesburg. Daed won’t let me go unless somebody comes along.”
