“You won’t?” She seemed breathless.
“Shall I bag more brown sugar?” He motioned toward the burlap bags.
“Yah, more,” she said. “Quite a few more, if you wish.”
“I wish,” he said. He busied himself with the bags.
Mary waited a few seconds before she scurried off to help another customer. Willard snuck a glance over his shoulder. Not a bearded Amish man, at least. So far, so good. But he couldn’t help but wonder if it was right to tempt Mary. Was this not selfishness on his part? She was dedicated to her faith, but she obviously had feelings for him—a few, at least. Why else had she allowed him to stay for the day?
Willard paused in his work to glance down the aisle, where Mary stood with an elderly woman, helping the lady make her selections. Mary looked up and caught his gaze. A smile flickered before she looked away quickly.
Willard weighed out another ten-pound bag of brown sugar. Was not all fair in love and war? That’s how the saying went, but he cared about Mary’s heart and her future happiness. He should leave, and yet he didn’t want to. This woman drew him in, ever closer. She kept him riveted to rusty scales and burlap bags. Carlene had been about fancy restaurants and high talk around elaborate dining room tables. Her father had been the pastor of a well-respected church. Life here was simple and humble, and the hands that offered it shook and doubted.
This was why he wanted to stay. Love that sprang from this ground would have roots deep enough to withstand any storm. The certainty gripped him. Today he would believe. Tomorrow would answer for itself.
TWENTY-FOUR
That evening Betsy slipped out of the gas station bathroom in Fort Plain. She was clad in jeans and a shirt underneath a thick coat, with her Amish dress and kapp tucked in a paper bag. The wind blew across the street and whipped up snowflakes that lay on the curb after a momentary squall. She had walked down the hill into town because there was no place to tie Danny Boy at the gas station.
Winter would set in for goot after Christmas, and rumspringa activities would slow, but tonight there was a gathering in Little Falls. Before long Enos Troyer would pick her up in his buggy. He would have come to the house if she had asked, but that meant arriving at the gathering with no place to change. One couldn’t leave home dressed in Englisha clothing, not with Mamm and Daett around. Betsy shivered as she waited on the street corner. She would return inside to wait if Enos didn’t show soon. The gas station attendants were accustomed to Amish young people on weekend evenings. No one complained, provided a small purchase was made once in a while.
Betsy stamped her feet and glanced up the street. Thankfully, the faint beat of a horse’s hooves reached her. Enos turned the corner at the light, and the animal pranced along, its head held high. Betsy smiled. Enos had wanted an automobile for his rumspringa time, but he couldn’t afford one. His daett didn’t volunteer the money, of course. From what she could tell, a high-spirited horse had been a compromise of sorts.
Enos whirled up to the street corner and came to a stop. The buggy door opened to reveal a strange man seated beside him. Probably one of Enos’s visiting cousins. When Betsy stepped forward, her smile froze in place. “Ronald Troyer?”
“It’s me,” he grinned. “I see you remember.”
He appeared much too pleased with himself as Betsy stood unmoving in the wind.
“Betsy, are you coming or not?” Enos hollered. “I can’t hold my horse forever.”
She was supposed to climb up and sit beside Ronald Troyer after years of silence? But what choice did she have? She tried to move, but her feet wouldn’t work.
Ronald leaned out of the buggy to say, “Sorry to startle you. I don’t bite! I’m in the area for the Christmas holidays and decided to take a whirl with Enos tonight.”
He was still handsome, just as she remembered, and her heart pounded in her chest.
“Last call!” Cousin Enos sounded irritated.
Betsy lunged forward and found herself seated between the two men, almost falling into Ronald’s lap on the way up the buggy step.
“Goot evening. Have we met before?” Ronald joked.
She would have slapped him if she’d dared.
“Surprise!” Enos sang out as his horse dashed off down the street. “Hope you don’t mind riding with an extra person, Betsy, but I couldn’t leave Ronald at home.”
She hung on to the dash and glanced at Ronald’s handsome face. “Where have you been?”
He laughed. “Oh, here and there. What about you?”
Right here waiting for you, she wanted to say but didn’t. He obviously hadn’t shared her feelings on that subject. Why else had he stayed away so long?
“She can talk,” Cousin Enos said.
Enos wasn’t cruel, but surely he knew about her feelings for Ronald—didn’t he? She hadn’t expressed her admiration for Ronald to anyone other than Mary, mired as she was in her hopelessness.
“I’ll be here for a while.” Ronald leaned forward to peer at her face. “Maybe I’ll see more of you?”
You would if that were up to me, she almost said.
“She’s still pretty,” Enos said with a grin. “And feisty.”
Ronald chuckled. “She appears calm to me.” He leaned forward for another look at her.
“Stop it!” Betsy snapped, and they both roared with laughter.
“We were just teasing,” Enos told her. “Ronald was thrilled when I told him you would be riding along tonight.”
“That’s right,” Ronald seconded. “I couldn’t wait to meet you again.”
“You could have come back sooner,” Betsy said, finally finding her voice.
“That’s goot to hear.” Ronald sounded pleased again. “Exactly the kind of welcome a boy dreams of.”
“You call this a welcome?” Enos asked. “She’s hardly said a word.”
“You two are so full of yourselves,” she told them, and their laughter pealed again.
“How’s Mary?” Ronald asked when he had calmed down.
“Mary is too old for you,” Enos piped up. “You know she was jilted and has a broken heart. She’s been dating our oldest bachelor.”
“Sounds interesting,” Ronald said. “But I didn’t have romance in mind when I asked about her.”
“Mary will not wed Stephen Overholt,” Betsy said, jumping in the conversation. “Let’s keep that straight.”
“You seem awful sure of yourself when you’re not the one dating him.” Enos regarded her with a skeptical look. “People with broken hearts do unexpected things. That’s what Mamm always told me.”
“Must never have had one of those,” Ronald quipped. “A broken heart.”
“Neither of you knows what you are talking about,” Betsy retorted. “The best thing would be for Mary to date that handsome Englisha man, Willard Gabert, who runs a mission for boys in Kenya. How would that be for adventure and excitement?”
They both stared at her.
“Betsy also has wild ideas,” Enos finally said.
“And goot ones,” Betsy insisted. “I’ve tried my best to encourage Mary to consider the wunderbah chance she has for freedom and escape from the community. Just think what the Englisha women have at their fingertips: washers and dryers run by electricity, electric ovens, switches that turn on lights, dishwashers…and let’s not forget electric beaters. Just imagine the delicious angel food cake one could make with such implements at one’s disposal.”
Enos smacked his lips, and Betsy gave him a glare. “Don’t laugh at me, cousin. I know that you’re not taking your rumspringa seriously. There isn’t a chance you’ll jump the fence.”
“I hope not,” Ronald muttered.
“So you’re one of those too?” Betsy directed her glare toward him. “I should have known.” Obviously Ronald was here for one thing—to see his relatives over Christmas.
Ronald chuckled. “I like my rumspringa. Don’t get me wrong—”
“But you’ve already decided,” Betsy in
terrupted.
“Something like that.”
“Ronald’s a goot man,” Enos said. “And I don’t believe for a second that Mary would consider falling for an Englisha man. You don’t really think she’ll do that, do you, Betsy?”
She made a face as they trotted down the grade toward Little Falls on Highway 5. “I had hoped so, but I guess not. Mary is in love with him—I don’t question that—but she won’t fall for him.”
“I don’t believe she has feelings for him,” Enos told her. “Your prejudices are being cast on your sister. You should consider settling down, Betsy. I’m going to take the plunge in the spring and join the baptismal class.”
“Me too,” Ronald echoed. “I think it’s time.”
“How about it?” Enos teased, as they trotted through the edge of town.
“I still dream of meeting a handsome Englisha man.” Betsy sighed. “No straw in his hair. How long I have waited—yet my sister is the one who gets the chance!”
“There you go. The Lord protects you,” Enos chuckled. He pulled into a driveway where several other buggies were parked. “This is it, I think.”
Ronald jumped down as soon as the buggy came to a stop. He turned with a smile and offered his hand to Betsy. She raised her eyebrows but took the proffered gesture.
His gloved hand gripped hers. “I have an automobile back in Lancaster,” he whispered. “And I can act like an Englisha man.”
“But you aren’t one,” she said. She slipped but righted herself on the snowy ground.
Ronald noticed and reached for her arm. Betsy didn’t resist. His courtesies were nice, but he’d be gone the day after Christmas. He held on to her arm until they reached the front porch, apparently oblivious to her stream of negative thoughts. Enos knocked and then opened the door when no one answered. A flood of light and noise came from the depths of the house, with only dim hall lamps to guide them inside.
Enos led the way with Ronald following by Betsy’s side. “What are you doing with your time while you are here?” she asked him.
“Depends. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Have you been back to the valley since I met you all that time ago?”
He shook his head. “No. But I hadn’t forgotten you.”
She looked away. This kind of man would not remember her.
“You seemed much younger back then,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
The sound of the music exploded when Enos opened the door into what appeared to be the den.
Ronald leaned close to her ear. “You want to dance?”
She wondered if he knew how, but he obviously did. She slid into his arms, and they joined the other couples on the floor. Strobe lights stabbed the darkness around them, while Enos stood off to the side with a surprised look on his face.
“You’re goot at this,” she spoke into Ronald’s ear.
The smell of his cologne up close was delicious. She hadn’t noticed the spicy scent on the buggy ride into town. Ronald was no ordinary Amish farm boy, but being impressed with the man was a waste of time. She should know that lesson well by now.
“You’re goot too,” he said, his grin wicked. “Where did you learn?”
“Englisha men.” She didn’t hesitate. “And what about you?”
“Not from Englisha girls. Naughty, naughty Betsy.”
She ignored the scold. Most Amish boys were bossy, but Ronald’s kind of bossiness was a pleasant boldness that defied description. Almost like courage. Betsy glanced up into his face. “I didn’t know Lancaster girls could dance. Amish ones, that is.”
His grin was wide. “There are a few. You’ve lived in the valley too long.”
“Why do you think I want to leave?”
“Lancaster has everything you would want,” he said. “Keeps me happy.”
She didn’t answer. She snuggled against his chest for the rest of the song. The ripples under his shirt were not surprising. Amish men had those from hard work in the fields. But the tenderness in his strength was the surprise. His arms handled her with a deftness that made her feel as though she were flying across the floor.
The song ended, and Betsy caught her breath on the sidelines while Ronald slipped into the crowd.
“You two seemed to hit it off,” Enos commented at her elbow.
“You should learn how to dance.”
He made a face. “Amish boys don’t normally need the skill. I think I’ll be fine without the effort expended.”
Betsy ignored him as Ronald returned with two glasses in his hand. “They are serving champagne for a small fee,” he said. “Want one?” He held out the glass to Betsy.
“See? That’s how you treat a girl.” Betsy took the proffered glass with one hand and shook her finger at Enos with the other. He laughed and walked off.
Ronald watched Enos leave with a pensive look. “He’s a nice solid chap, isn’t he?”
“I suppose so,” Betsy allowed. She took a long sip from her glass.
“Like it?” Ronald teased. His glass was already half empty.
“I thought you said you were staying Amish?”
“I am.” He wrinkled his brow. “This is what rumspringa is about.”
“But you have already decided.”
Ronald nodded. “How about you?”
She ignored the question. “So you are playing the system!”
Ronald laughed. “More like getting things out of my system. That’s another purpose of rumspringa. So one doesn’t look back and wonder, you know, years later.”
Betsy took a long drink from her glass. “I could learn to like this.”
“You know that’s not real, Betsy. It’s fun, yah, but…”
“I still like it.” She took the last swallow.
“I’m not getting you more,” he told her, his bossiness back. “Come on. Let’s dance again.”
Betsy took his hand, and they twirled back out on the floor. Ronald was right. Another glass and she would have been dizzy. He leaned close to whisper, “Your cheeks are rosy.”
She almost stumbled. He held her tightly, and they recovered.
“You are pretty when your temper shows. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
She made a face at him, and he laughed.
The song ended, and they stood against the wall to catch their breath. He studied her for a moment.
“There’s a reason I’m rosy cheeked.”
“I know,” he said. “Do you have a steady boyfriend?”
“No! I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“No one off and on?”
“No! Why are you asking?”
“That’s a shame,” he said. “Would you consider?”
“Dating?”
“Yah! Dating me?” He shrugged. “At least until I leave after Christmas?”
Betsy’s head spun. “You’re making me turn bright red.”
“Then it’s a yah?”
“I didn’t say so.”
“But you will say so?”
“I don’t want to stay Amish. We’ve already been over that.”
“You would reject a date with me because I plan to stay Amish?”
“You are awful, you know.”
He chuckled. “I like you, and I’d like to know you better. Surely we can’t go that wrong. You can always change your mind. It’s not as if I’m asking you to say the wedding vows next week.”
“But you live in Lancaster, and I live in the valley.”
“All the better.” His eyes twinkled. “As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“And you’re depending on that?”
“Of course. And I’m also depending on my charm.”
“You are so full of yourself.”
“But you’ll still say yah?” He took her hand. “We can see each other again next weekend. If we can’t find a gathering in Little Falls, I’ll take you to Utica.”
“That’s a long way in a borrowed buggy.”
He leaned closer. “I have
a driver’s license. I’ll rent something. In fact, let’s plan on that. You can handle the spin, can’t you? Get some of that wildness worked out of you?”
Her eyes shone. “You would do that?”
“For you, yah! Any day.”
“You are sweet, Ronald, in addition to being full of yourself.”
“Isn’t that about the same thing?”
She fixed her gaze on him. “You are full of surprises, you know?”
But then again, maybe he wasn’t. He appeared way too pleased with himself at the compliment. He certainly didn’t act like a normal Amish man, even one on rumspringa. Was it possible he had not only come back to see family, but also to see her? She suddenly realized she hadn’t thought about the scars on her face one time the whole evening.
The music began again, louder than before. “Shall we step outside?” he mouthed.
She nodded and followed him toward the back door. A large deck lay in front of them, with the starry sweep of the Milky Way overhead. After the warmth of the crowded room, the chill of the wind cut through her.
Ronald took her hand and pulled her close. She laid her head on his shoulder to gaze at the stars overhead.
His fingers pointed. “There’s Orion with his belt, and the seven sisters. The heavens full of the Lord’s glory have always drawn me in.”
Betsy nestled closer. He didn’t seem to need comments from her as he pointed out further constellations of stars.
“Where did you learn all this?” she finally asked.
“Always took a fascination with the solar system in school,” he said. “Another luxury of rumspringa has been visits to the planetarium in Lancaster.”
“You can go there anytime you want. Even as an Amish man.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But rumspringa got me started. I watch the films they show. I keep track of when the new ones come out, and then I visit again.”
“You are different. I knew you were from the first time I met you.” She glanced at him.
His laugh was soft. “And so are you. That’s part of why I came back, Betsy, and I haven’t been disappointed.”
“We should go inside,” she said, her fingers tight in his. “I’m getting cold, and I don’t quite believe you are real.”
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