A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  But there was truly something special about this time of day, when she and her sister had a chance to talk. Sixteen-year-old Elsie was a good storyteller as well as a good listener. A wonderful sister, and a best friend, too.

  “Rachel King stopped by the store today.” Elsie ran the sponge over a plate. “She said she’s got four paintings finished, and three more in the works.”

  “She’s been busy.” Gabe’s cousin was a gifted artist. One day when church was held at her parents’ dairy farm she had taken the girls to a storage shed that she’d been using to paint. She had covered canvases with beautiful golden hills, red barns, and patchwork quilts flapping in the breeze. The artwork showed Amish life, though Rachel had been careful not to include any Amish folk. That would be against the Ordnung, as the Bible cautioned against making a graven image.

  “I told her I would ask Dat about it. I know he doesn’t want to sell Amish things, but when he sees the paintings, I think he’ll change his mind.”

  “Mmm.” Emma hoped her sister was right. Their shop, the Country Store, had once sold novelty items, but Dat had taken all the crafts out of the store when the bishop told him he couldn’t sell some plaques carved by an Amish artist. Bishop Samuel had said that they violated the Ordnung because they showed Amish children.

  “Rachel’s paintings really touch the heart,” Emma said. “I’m sure they’d sell quickly. But I think you might be stepping into a marsh of trouble here.”

  “The bishop?”

  Emma nodded. “Do you think he’ll allow it?”

  Elsie shrugged. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “My brave sister.” Emma took a plate from the rinse water and began drying.

  “Brave or foolish, I’m not sure which one.” She added more hot water to the sink, a lacy swirl of steam rising before her face. “Tell me about the singing last night. Who was there?”

  “It was a good turnout.” Elsie didn’t care to attend the youth events, but she always enjoyed hearing details of the night from her sister. Emma gave her an overview, including the story of Annie Stoltzfus colliding with Jonah King on the volleyball court and Mary Fisher breaking off her courtship with Abe King.

  “That’s too bad about Mary and Abe,” she said. “But I don’t think they were a very good match. He’s going to need a wife who knows farming, and she grew up helping her family run the bakery. I don’t think she’d be happy on a farm.”

  Emma smiled at her sister’s gift for observation. “Listen to you, missy matchmaker. You figured that out from just seeing them at church?”

  Elsie shrugged. “I have good eyes. When I’m at the shop, I get to watch people all day long. When you watch and listen, you learn their stories, and you know I love a good story.”

  “I know that.” Emma sighed, staring at the bowl she was drying.

  It was time to tell her sister.

  “I have a story of my own to tell you.” She went to the wide doorway and looked out to be sure no one was in the living room. Empty. Dat was still in town, and Fanny was upstairs supervising baths. She could hear the water running through pipes to the bathroom.

  “So much mystery!” Elsie’s mouth dropped open as she watched her sister creep close again. “I’m all ears!”

  “The truth is, I’ve got a fella that I’ve been seeing. But it’s a secret.”

  “I knew it!” Suds splattered as Elsie clapped her gloved hands together. “I had a feeling, ever since that terrible tragedy with the Kings. You always reach out to your scholars when they’re hurting, but I knew there was more to it when you kept stopping over at the Kings’ farm. This just warms my heart! There’s a little flame of love in Gabe’s eyes when he looks at you, and he looks at you an awful lot!”

  “Elsie!” Emma gasped, clutching her sister’s arm. “How did you know it’s Gabe?”

  “I just knew. All the signs have been there, but you never talked about it.”

  “I can’t tell you how many times I almost slipped,” Emma admitted. “I’ve wanted to tell you, especially when my heart feels like it’s going to burst. Gabe is a wonderful fella. Funny and strong and smart, too. He knows everything there is to know about cows. You should hear him talk about his herd. They’re like his children. It’s always Daisy this and Maybelle that. He’s worse than me and my scholars.”

  “Emma, I’m so happy for you.” Joy shone in Elsie’s eyes. “You know, you sound like a girl in love.”

  “It feels that way,” Emma said. Although she wanted to tell her sister more, some things would have to wait for a later time. It would be hard to describe the warmth that swept through her when Gabe pulled her close and kissed her. And how she felt so loved and safe when Gabe held her in his arms.… When she found the words, these were things she would share with Elsie and no one else. She knew Elsie would understand and share her happiness. That was Elsie’s way—to experience things through another person’s story.

  “Is it wonderful good to be in love?” Elsie asked.

  “Ya. But it’s hard to keep it a secret. I never thought there’d be so many ruts and holes on the road to love.”

  “Why is it a secret?”

  “Because of …” Emma opened a cabinet and placed a stack of bowls inside. “I don’t want to sound like I’m judging, but I’m worried about the direction his family is going in. If people find out I’m courting someone from a family that’s straying from the community, I could get in trouble with the parents and the school board.”

  “But Gabe didn’t do anything wrong,” Elsie said. “None of that is his fault.”

  “I know. He’s not like Sadie or Adam. I don’t think he’d ever leave here. But Gabe is no angel. He’s got a boom box now, and he’s talking about getting a job in town to make money for lights and things in the buggy. And he’s not at all afraid of Bishop Samuel.”

  Elsie grinned. “Neither am I. That doesn’t mean I don’t respect him.”

  “A healthy fear of authority is a good thing,” Emma said.

  “Sometimes, but it doesn’t have to be that way. You’re not afraid of Fanny and Dat, are you?” When Emma shook her head, Elsie nodded. “And I know you respect them.”

  Emma wrapped the dish towel around one hand. “Gabe isn’t getting baptized this month. He says he’s enjoying his rumspringa, and he’s okay with it for at least another year. How am I going to keep courting a boy who wants to sow his wild oats? I don’t think I can do it.”

  “Don’t cut him off.” Elsie turned to her with round, serious eyes. “You’re a smart girl, Emma. You can find a way to work it out with Gabe. I know you can.”

  “It would break my heart in two to end our courtship.” Emma swallowed back the knot of emotion in her throat. “Gabe and I are really good together. But I have to do the right thing. Church leaders and parents are watching me.”

  “And you can show them that you won’t give up on a person because a few bad things have happened with his family.”

  Emma pressed her fists to her chest. “Is that how you see it?”

  Elsie nodded, her eyes stern. “Show your students that you support and love people for who they are inside. The color of their hair, their size, their family business—those things don’t really matter. You know that Gabe has a good heart. That’s what people will see. The boom box will go away soon enough. But don’t walk away from love because you’re afraid of the bishop.”

  Emma let her hands drop to her sides as she took a deep breath. Maybe her sister was right.

  She took a cup from the rinse water. “How did you get so wise?”

  Lowering the skillet into the sink, Elsie smiled. “I have a very smart big sister.”

  SIXTEEN

  Tuesday morning, Jonah left Gabe and Adam in the milking barn. His brothers didn’t need him right now, and he wanted to get a look at that broken baler before the day wore on. He would have to be on top of his chores if he was going over to Annie’s, and right now, he couldn’t think of anything he
wanted more than a few hours of backbreaking work at the Stoltzfus farm.

  Outside the barn, he circled the machine, checking the connections. It didn’t take long to discover that a clamp had broken off. Jonah rubbed the back of his neck as he mulled over the jagged steel clamp. It needed a good welding.

  That was not a problem.

  When he was a boy, Jonah had followed their dat around the farm, eager to learn a man’s job. While Gabe had taken a liking to the cows in the milk barn and Adam could always be found in the woodshop, Jonah was interested in the mechanics of things. He wanted to know how everything worked, from birthing a calf to tilling the soil to repairing harnesses and equipment.

  Dat had rewarded his curiosity with explanations and plenty of hands-on work. By the time he was eleven, Jonah couldn’t wait for school to end so that he could spend the entire day working with Dat on the farm.

  Jonah smiled, remembering his school days. Gabe had complained bitterly, telling Mamm that school was a waste of time. Jonah had agreed, but he had kept silent. Grin and bear it; that was his way.

  Still, it had been torture sitting in class, reading and writing all day when he knew that more important things awaited him outside the window. Math came easy to him, but pencil work seemed silly when there were fields to be tilled, parts to be welded, seed to be scattered, horses’ hooves to be picked, and so many animals to feed and tend.

  Life on the farm had fed his soul since he was a child. He was ever grateful to Gott for giving him a chance to work the land and live by the seasons. It was a good life … but a lonely one for a man his age, a man too old to be living with his family.

  He had never imagined that a man in love could be so lonely.

  “But that is about to change,” he said as he plunked the welding helmet over his face.

  He worked methodically, tacking the far corner first, checking to make sure the joint was square, then tacking the other four corners into place. Sparks sizzled like hope.

  He would be spending more time at Annie’s house.

  She had forgiven him for knocking her down in the volleyball game.

  But more than that, she seemed to see him with new eyes yesterday.

  Now that her eyes were open, he wanted to be there, in plain sight.

  After lunch, Jonah hitched Jigsaw to a buggy and rode into Paradise. He needed to pick up some winter feed for the sheep, and the Stoltzfus farm would be an easy stop on his way back.

  An hour later, gray clouds were rolling in from the west as he loaded his purchases into the buggy. Another storm brewing, and with these warm temperatures there might be thunder and lightning. He pulled a plastic tarp over his purchases in the back of the buggy, just in case.

  Although Jigsaw wasn’t usually spooked by thunder, Jonah knew he couldn’t outrun a storm. If it blew in, it would be a miserable trip back. God willing, he’d be off the open road for the worst of it.

  Once he had traveled beyond the town limits, the landscape opened wide to Gott’s Lancaster countryside. Misty blue hills surrounded the fields, most of them cut down to neat rows of golden stubble. Here and there, trees flamed yellow, orange, and red—the changing leaves of autumn. Although he’d farmed this country his whole life, it was a land that could still take his breath away.

  The rain held off until he was about to cross the river. He was approaching the covered bridge when two fat drops tapped his hat. A moment later, rain was falling around him, splattering on the road and casting a veil over his vision. At this rate, his jacket would be soaked in two minutes.

  He was grateful to duck under the roof of the covered bridge. Although raindrops rattled overhead, it was dry and dark inside.

  Built in the early 1800s, the covered bridge was a novelty. Tourists came to Halfway to photograph it and cross over it, as if they were journeying to the Promised Land instead of taking the road to Paradise. Jonah chuckled at the notion. You could say that the road to Paradise was the way to the Promised Land. The towns in Amish country did have unusual names, but he rarely gave it much thought.

  When his buggy emerged into the fresh air and slapping rain, Jonah knew it was only a mile or two to the Stoltzfus farm now—an easy stretch.

  He adjusted his hat against the rain as he came to an old Jeep for sale. It sat on a hill, its headlights facing out like two eyes watching the road. Jonah recognized the vehicle he’d learned to drive in—Zed Miller’s Jeep. The very same one that had gotten Ira and Rose shunned. Part of their penance was to put the auto up for sale and never climb inside it again. The bishop had even warned them against hiring a car service anytime soon. He had ruled that they needed to be broken of their attachment to worldly things.

  Jonah grunted as he passed the Jeep. There were some good old memories in that vehicle. He would never do it now that he was baptized, but he was glad he had learned to drive during his rumspringa.

  About a mile ahead he spotted a solitary figure walking down the road—a woman in Amish dress.

  He watched her for a minute as Jigsaw trotted ahead. Her short height, her springy gait—these were movements he knew like the back of his own hand.

  It was Annie.

  He clicked his tongue and Jigsaw picked up the pace, closing the distance between them in no time.

  Hearing the sound of hooves on pavement, Annie looked back, shielding her eyes from the rain.

  “It’s just me.” He reined in the horse as he approached her, and Jigsaw slowed the buggy to a gentle stop.

  He wondered what she was doing out here alone, but this was no time for small talk with rain coming down like crazy.

  “Come,” he said.

  Her blue eyes flashed with surprise, but she didn’t hesitate. She hitched up her skirt and climbed into the buggy beside him.

  Face-to-face with him, she smiled. “The seat is wet,” she said, “but no more wet than I am already.”

  Hope welled inside him. To have Annie so close, sitting beside him in his buggy—it was sweet torture. And the chance to take care of Annie, even if it was only a brief ride to get her out of the rain, it was the answer to his prayers.

  “Where were you?” he asked when they were rolling ahead.

  “Just at my aunt’s farm down the road. She’s been sick and I made some soup for her.”

  “You should have used a carriage.”

  “And how about you? Why the buggy?”

  “I thought I’d make it back before the rain,” he said.

  “Mmm. That, and maybe that Amish men like their buggies.”

  Jonah grinned. She was never one to mince words. “There’s that.”

  She laughed, the sweet sound underlined by thunder in the distance. “Uh-oh.”

  He shot a look at the western sky, a fierce shade of gray. Light flashed over the hills as a jagged line of lightning tore the sky. “If the lightning gets close, the last place we want to be is out on an open road.” He didn’t fancy making Annie get out of the buggy to wait out the storm huddled near a bush.

  The storm could sweep in quickly, but Jigsaw was fast, too. “We’d better make a run for it. Ready?”

  Annie pressed one hand to the covering on her head. “Let’s go!”

  Jonah couldn’t help but grin as he urged his horse to full speed. Flying in the wind with Annie holding on beside him, he didn’t care about the rain that pelted his face.

  This was the life he had dreamed of!

  As Jigsaw took command of the empty road, Jonah uttered a prayer of thanks that there were no cars to deal with in this dark, wet mess.

  All too soon they were making the turn down the farm lane, bouncing over a rut as they approached the barn. Jonah wasn’t sure if the loud beat that thrummed through his body was his heart or the horse’s pounding hooves or both, but he felt happy and alive. More alive than he’d been in years.

  They reached the barn just as the sky lit up above them and thunder boomed nearby. Jonah halted the horse and dropped to the ground.

  “The nick of tim
e!” Annie gasped as she gracefully hopped down from the buggy.

  Even soaked with rain, she was beautiful. The blue of her dress, like a summer sky, seemed to make her eyes brighter. It was still raining on his head, but he didn’t mind. He could stand here in the mud for years, just watching Annie.

  She smiled up at him, and his throat grew thick. What was he going to say now? He felt that familiar worry tighten his shoulders. Did his feelings show?

  But she was smiling up at him, her blue eyes dancing as she swiped the rain from her forehead. “That storm came in fast! Denki for the ride.”

  “It’s good that I was there,” he said, and right away he wanted to take it back. That sounded like something a father would say.

  Why couldn’t he ever find the right words when he was face-to-face with Annie? He looked down, and water poured from the brim of his hat. With a sigh, he took it off and smacked it against one hip to get some of the water off.

  “Well … I’d better get this unhitched.”

  To his surprise, she helped him, working from the other side of Jigsaw. “Jonah?”

  He ran his hand along the horse’s back and looked up at her. “Ya, Annie?”

  “I’m glad we met on the road. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

  She had his full attention. He opened his eyes wide, trying to ignore the galloping beat of his pulse.

  “If someone was sweet on you,” she said, talking softly, “you’d want to know, wouldn’t you?”

  Would I want to know? He reached for a strap near the horse, trying to hide the embarrassment that warmed his face. Was this really happening? Annie was here, saying the words he’d always wanted to hear, and he had his head stuffed under a horse’s belly.

  He straightened and faced her again, feeling a jolt of awareness that was like a burst of sunlight in the dark.

  “I reckon I’d like to know,” he said.

  But the truth was, it was the one thing he’d been waiting to know all his life—that Annie was sweet on him.

  “Well, then I’ll tell you.” She tilted her head to the side, then put her hand to her mouth to hide a smile. “There’s a girl here who’s got her eyes on you. But sometimes … ach!” Her hand flew back to her mouth, and she shook her head. “It’s hard to find the right words!”