by Laura Hilton
She frowned. “Better?”
“Over whatever happened between you and—that Englischer. The thing that made you inhale ice cream like you did.” At least he’d assumed she’d inhaled it. His sisters always did whenever they had a pity party. Their kitchen turned into what his daed called “junk food central” when one of his older sisters cut off a steady courtship.
“Jah. Pretty much,” Shanna said. “Being with you and your friends helped.”
“They want to be your friends, too.” He pulled her close and rested his chin on her head.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “I need friends. I like Becky.”
He hugged her a few more seconds, then slowly pulled away and raised his hand to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes, and he trailed his finger down to her neck, where he felt her pulse pounding.
“You’ll come to the singing tonight, ain’t so?”
“Jah. Joseph will take me.”
“I’ll take you home, if it’s okay, Shanna. I know I’ve sounded presumptuous with some of the things I’ve said, so I’ll ask you now: Will you be my steady girl?”
“Jah.” Her eyes shone with excitement.
His mouth hurt from smiling, so relieved was he that she’d agreed to making their relationship official. He felt like celebrating, and his gaze drifted to her lips. If he kissed her, would he see fireworks, as he had the first time? They’d reminded him of the ones he and Jacob used to set off in the back field.
Until one of them had misfired and burned down a barn.
That had ended that pastime. He’d gotten into huge trouble. His usually mild-mannered daed had yelled at him and made him go to confess to both the barn owner and the district preachers. And Jacob and he had helped with the barn raising.
He knew he shouldn’t kiss her. It would only be asking for trouble. Still, his hand slid around the back of her neck, and he slowly lowered his head. She met him halfway, her arms wrapping more tightly around him. “Matthew,” she whispered, seconds before his lips met hers.
It did seem that fireworks were going off, but at least he wouldn’t have to confess over this type.
He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.
There was the sound of a twig snapping on the ground, and then an “Ahem.”
Matthew dropped his arms and stepped back. Shanna staggered backward, and he fought the urge to shelter her with his body to conceal her identity. Instead, he sucked in a breath and turned around to face the person who’d dared to interrupt this private moment.
It was one of the younger preachers. A new one, whose name had been drawn in the past three months. Not the bishop, thankfully, but this was bad enough. Especially after being caught out with Shanna by Bishop Sol last night, when she was dressed in form-fitting Englisch clothes.
The man gave Shanna a cursory glance, then shifted his attention to Matthew. “The bishop and the preachers would like a word with you. Could you kum to my farm tomorrow after the noon meal?”
His stomach churned, but somehow he managed to nod. “Jah, I’ll be there.”
The preacher gave him directions and turned away, but the moment was ruined.
Shanna gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I suppose it’s all on account of me.”
It was, partly. But he’d been complicit, too. He’d initiated their public displays of affection, and he’d offered to drive her car after the buggy accident.
And this discussion with the preachers might be related to that incident, since Bishop Sol had yet to speak to him about it. He’d have to confess to driving a car, which wasn’t permitted for anyone who had joined the church, but that should be the extent of the repercussions.
He grinned at Shanna. “You’re causing all kinds of mischief. Don’t worry, though. Everything I did was my choice. Besides, it’s probably not a big deal. It’s not as if they’re going to send me back to Pennsylvania.” They couldn’t do that, could they?
“If they do, I’ll miss you. I might even kum visit. I’d love to see Lancaster County.”
“They won’t,” he said firmly, checking to make sure his hat was on straight. “But I’ll take you there on our honeymoon so you can meet my family.” He winked at her. “Kum on. We should get back to our friends before we find ourselves in even more trouble.”
***
After Joseph had parked the buggy at the farm where the singing was to be held, Shanna walked up to the barn with him, scanning the yard for Matthew. He’d left the house a bit earlier, taking her horse and buggy. She finally found him, playing volleyball with a large group. She watched him serve the ball, and then some other bu, a young one she didn’t know, hit it back over the net.
She went inside the barn and found Becky seated on a bench along one side of the row of tables. The other side was reserved for the buwe. The chaperones, the parents who owned the farm, had a daughter, Lindy Zook, who was about Shanna’s age. Shanna had been sure Lindy Zook would have married by now. She’d had a steady bu soon after she’d turned sixteen. But it was now three years later, and she still hadn’t wed. Shanna wondered what had happened. Lindy Zook wore a kind of pinched, unhappy expression. She was probably upset that the singing was at her house, with her parents as chaperones.
Shanna understood. She’d been uncomfortable whenever her parents had hosted a singing. It always seemed that Daed had his eye on her the entire night. None of the buwe had ever asked her to take a ride with him. Though, even then, she’d had a reputation for being somewhat of a troublemaker, hanging out with the wild buwe, going to parties, and such. No wonder none of the good Amish buwe had asked her out.
She was surprised Matthew had. Maybe he hadn’t heard the whole story about her yet. If that was the case, it would surely be rectified tomorrow when he met with the bishop and the preachers. Would he change his mind about her when he found out how much trouble she used to get herself into? He probably ought to. Or maybe Daed had already told him, and he’d concluded that she must have outgrown her mischievous ways.
After all, she hadn’t raced a buggy horse bareback across the fields with the neighbor bu once this summer—of course, she hadn’t even seen him. She hadn’t gone down to the back road where the wild buwe used to race their buggies. And she certainly hadn’t attended any parties, aside from the respectable event of Miriam Shultz’s birthday frolic. She’d never tried alcohol or drugs, but she’d been friends with the Amish kids who did. And the preachers probably believed she’d acted the same, or still did.
Daed had definitely been of that mind-set. He’d always assumed that if she hung out with a certain type, then she would be just like them. Simple as that. He’d quoted the same proverb over and over: “He that walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.”
She was certain Daed had classified her as a companion of fools.
Maybe she had been.
Her life would have certainly been different if she’d been a good Amish girl right from the start. Going to singings instead of parties.
Becky touched her hand, startling her out of her daze. “Shanna? Was ist letz? You seem like you’re in a trance or something.”
She shook her head and forced a smile. “I’m okay. Just woolgathering, I guess. Did you say something?”
Becky smiled. “Ach, I’ve been chattering on about nothing.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m naerfich. I haven’t been to one of these in…well, not since I ran away from home.” Before that, really.
“I’m glad you could kum tonight. You’ll have fun.”
Shanna shrugged. “A preacher found Matthew and me when we were….” Her face heated. “I mean, after lunch. He told Matthew that the bishop and the preachers want to talk to him tomorrow.”
Becky’s eyes widened. “Why? Jacob told me that Matthew never gets into trouble.”
“I don’t know. Matthew says it’s probably nothing. But I can’t help worrying that it’s about me.”
> “Not everything is about you.” Annie plopped down on the other side of Becky.
Becky patted Shanna’s hand and cast Annie a look of censure. “What has gotten into you? You’ve been acting so sugary-sweet today.”
Annie sighed. “I’m sorry. This morning, right after church, I got snapped at by a couple of parents who don’t think I’m doing a gut enough job at the school. They don’t like my style of teaching, and they’ve threatened to go to the bishop and have me removed. Plus, a board member has talked with me about further complaints. I either had to cry or smile, so I’ve been smiling.” She glanced at Shanna. “I’m sure it’s nothing, like Matthew said.”
But Becky and Annie hadn’t seen the bishop talking with Daed after the service today. Nor had they seen the look Daed had given her when they’d gotten home. In her mind, it had totally erased the tender words he’d said the night before.
She’d scurried off to the barn to take a nap and avoid her family for the afternoon. She hadn’t wanted to be the target of any more of Daed’s silent glares, which he could give her in abundance since he wouldn’t yell at her on the Lord’s Day.
The barn suddenly seemed to come alive as the youths who’d been playing or talking outside all came in. The girls took seats along the benches on the same side of the table where Shanna, Becky, and Annie sat, while the buwe jostled for positions on the other side of the table. Jacob sat across from Becky, and, a few minutes later, Matthew filled the space next to him, across from Shanna.
He grinned at her and nudged her foot with his own under the table.
She smiled back, forgetting all about Annie and the bishop and her worries. At least she had tonight to enjoy.
Silence prevailed for a while as everyone waited for some brave person to start the singing. Finally, a bu did. Shanna didn’t remember this particular song extremely well, and she wished for a copy of the Ausbund so she could follow along. Matthew seemed to know the song, though she couldn’t distinguish his voice from the others that had quickly joined in.
Shanna scanned the length of the table, trying to locate Joseph. She found him seated almost at the end, but she couldn’t see the girl across the table from him. No big deal, though. He hadn’t necessarily sat across from Miriam, the girl she believed he was interested in. Many buwe didn’t. And others openly paired up with their girls, disregarding traditional discretion. Like Matthew and Jacob, who’d boldly staked their claims.
When the singing ended, Matthew waited by the door. Ruth hovered by his side, all talkative and giggly, obviously hoping he would offer her a ride home. When Shanna approached the door, Matthew said good-bye and fell into step beside her. Ruth’s countenance fell, and she gave Shanna a look that could have curdled milk instantly.
Still, Shanna’s emotions were mixed. She felt privileged and proud that Matthew had chosen her over the other maidels, yet hurt by the mean looks and spiteful words of those who had been passed over.
She shrugged it off as they went out to his buggy. Her buggy, actually. Well, it didn’t matter. The buggy. If she returned to the Amish, though, Matthew should consider getting his own. She’d need hers if she worked as a midwife.
That reality was doubtful, though. The bishop probably wouldn’t remember telling her she had a gift, as focused as he seemed to be on her failings. And she did have many shortcomings. She wasn’t Amish, but she wasn’t Englisch, either. She tried to fit in as best as she could. In both worlds.
Matthew helped her into the buggy, then jogged around to the other side and climbed in. “Jacob will probably take Becky into town for a fancy koffee. You can live without that, ain’t so?”
“Jah. I get enough of those at work.”
“Gut. I figured we could ride around, maybe stop and look at the stars or something. Is that okay?”
“Jah.” She scooted closer to him. Anything sounded good, as long as they were together.
Matthew wrapped one arm around her shoulders. With the other, he flicked the reins, and they were on their way.
“There’s a blanket under the seat, if you’re cold,” he said.
Shanna reached down to retrieve the folded cloth, shook it out, and spread it over their legs. “Danki. It’s a little chilly, but not too bad.”
“Nein, not bad at all,” Matthew agreed as she settled back into his embrace.
Snuggling against him, Shanna remembered her curiosity at something he’d said earlier. “Tell me about when you were a young bu. What did you do? Jacob and Josh were your best friends, you said. Are they your cousins, too?”
Maybe if Annie and Ruth found their own buwe, they would leave Matthew and her alone. What about this Josh? Perhaps he could take one of them. Then again, she might not want to wish either of them on Matthew’s good friend, for that would entail spending lots of time together. And if Josh was a relative, it would mean seeing Annie or Ruth at future family gatherings. Though maybe Annie could be excused for her behavior. Hearing multiple criticisms from the parents of her students and from a school board member couldn’t be helping her attitude any.
“Josh is my cousin on Mamm’s side. Jacob, nein; he lived on the farm next to ours. We were together almost all the time, Jacob and I, from getting up to going to bed. We helped each other with the chores and sat next to each other in school. The only thing we didn’t do together was court. Until now.” He smiled. “I got my learner’s permit when he did because he didn’t want to go into the testing center alone. He had a motorcycle, but he’s written to Josh and asked him to sell it.”
“Did you drive the motorcycle?”
Matthew shook his head. “Nein. But I wasn’t all that impressed with it when I rode on it with Jacob. I learned to drive another friend’s truck. He was Mennonite, so it was allowed.”
“I learned to drive before I left home, too. Daed wasn’t very happy when he found out.”
“Mine wasn’t, either, but what could he say? I was in my rumschpringe.”
Matthew had kept the horse at a walk, but they managed to get back to the farm far earlier than Shanna wanted to. She could have ridden with him all night.
He parked the buggy and then came around to help her out. “I had a gut time tonight.”
“I did, too. Danki.” It seemed strange to be saying “Gut nacht” when they both were going to the same place.
Matthew smiled and walked with her the few steps to the barn. Outside the door to her loft, he waited while she fumbled with her key. “You’ll go out with me again soon, ain’t so?” He touched her cheek lightly, then leaned forward and kissed it.
“Jah.” As soon as she could.
“Maybe a walk tomorrow nacht?”
Shanna shuddered, realizing that, by then, he would have met with the bishop and the preachers. And he would want to share it with her. Ach, this couldn’t be anything good.
Chapter 23
At the designated time the next day, Matthew trudged up the front porch steps of the home of Preacher Philip Miller, his stomach churning. As he raised his arm to knock on the door, he noticed that his hands were trembling. Not good. He didn’t want his fear to be obvious.
Lord, I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but You do. Go before me.
The door opened before he could touch it, and he looked into the kind eyes of Nancy Miller. “Matthew. Kum in. Do you want a pretzel? I made soft pretzels today for the first time, and I think they turned out well. Here, let me get you one. Have a seat. Philip will be right in, I’m sure. The preachers and Bishop Sol are out in the barn, looking at a lame horse.”
Matthew hesitated. “Maybe I should go out there, then.”
“Nein, he told me to make you comfortable. They’ll be right in. Lemonade?” She bustled over to a cabinet and took out a glass.
Seconds later, a pretzel and a glass of lemonade appeared in front of him. He didn’t think he’d be able to partake of either one.
She poured herself a glass and sat down across from him. “So, how do you like Missouri, Matt
hew?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t been here long.”
“Just four months, ain’t so? But what are your impressions so far?”
“So far, I like it. I might miss the snow kum winter, though.”
“It snows here sometimes.” Nancy shuddered. “Snow, ice…I can live without them. I’d be happy if the temperature stayed in the seventies year-round.”
He’d liked having four seasons to enjoy in Pennsylvania. But he didn’t answer, because the door opened, and five men walked in. Nancy jumped up and filled five more glasses with lemonade, then set a plate piled with salty pretzels on the table.
“Matthew. Gut of you to join us.” The bishop sat down at the head of the table and surveyed him.
