An Unexpected Amish Harvest

by Carrie Lighte

  So when the service was over and Dorothy said she didn’t think she could stay awake through lunch, Peter readily agreed they should go home, even though leaving church early was considered nearly as rude as coming to church late.

  * * *

  It was Marshall’s turn to care for everyone’s horses, so Susannah was relieved when he took Benuel, Jacob and Conrad outside with him. She’d felt self-conscious about Benuel’s presence beside her throughout the worship service; single men and women virtually never sat together at church, even if they were courting, which they most definitely were not. However, no one else knew that and she was concerned people might jump to conclusions.

  “I’ll be more of a hindrance than a help in the kitchen,” Lydia said as the women in the congregation began streaming downstairs to make lunch and the men stacked the benches atop of one another, transforming them into tables. “I’m going to go talk to the deacon’s wife, Almeda Stoll, over there by the window. You’ll be okay without me?”

  “Of course.” Susannah wasn’t shy about pitching in. Besides, it would be nice to have a moment to catch up with Dorcas in private, if she could find her. She was so intent on scanning the room for her friend that she nearly bumped right into Eva Lambright, Peter’s little sister, who was bending over to tie her shoe.

  The summer Susannah came to New Hope, she and Lydia spent many afternoons picking wild blueberries with Eva and Dorothy Lambright in the field behind their house. She had treasured getting to know her suitor’s family better, even though they were unaware she and Peter were courting. Despite how she felt about Eva’s brother now, Susannah still had a soft spot in her heart for the girl.

  “Oops. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there, Eva,” she said.

  “Susannah? Susannah Peachy?” the young girl asked. Susannah braced herself for the inevitable comment about how much weight she’d lost, but instead, Eva excitedly called to her brother, “Peter, look who’s back. You remember Susannah, don’t you?”

  That’s when Susannah noticed Peter a few yards in front of them. He must have been trying to slink off without having to talk to her, because when he turned around, his face was red. Susannah used to love teasing him with sweet nothings and compliments until he blushed like that, but she certainly didn’t feel like complimenting him now. Please, Gott, help me to let go of my anger.

  “Hello, Susannah.”

  “Hello, Peter.”

  Their terse greetings were so stilted that Susannah was sure Eva would notice, but the girl seemed oblivious to their discomfort and continued chattering away. “I can’t believe it’s you. I was thinking about you this summer during blohbier season, but I didn’t expect you’d kumme back to New Hope until Grischtdaag.”

  The young girl’s fondness toward Susannah was evident and she couldn’t help but smile back at her. “I came here to help Lydia cook and clean during harvest season.”

  “Really? What a coincidence—Peter’s going to be helping your groossdaadi with the harvest. It’s too bad I have to go to schul, or I could help, too. I really enjoy picking blohbier, but I’ve never picked potatoes before.”

  As his sister prattled on, Peter shifted his weight, inching toward the door. “Mamm and Hannes are probably done using the restrooms now and are waiting at the buggy.”

  “It’s too bad we have to leave. It would be so much schpass to catch up with Susannah,” Eva said wistfully. “I heard there are pumpkin bars with cream-cheese frosting and apple crisp for dessert. We don’t have any homemade sweets at the haus. Ever since Mamm stopped—”

  “Eva!” Peter interrupted, as if he was trying to silence her from saying something embarrassing. “We have more than enough food to satisfy your appetite.”

  A blush rose across Eva’s chubby cheeks and she looked down at the floor. Susannah understood from personal experience how humiliating it was to have someone else make a comment, directly or indirectly, about a woman’s appetite or weight. She was so irritated at Peter for implying his sister needed to cut down that she offered, “If you’d like to stay for lunch, my groossdaadi could give you a ride home, Eva.”

  Meeting Susannah’s eyes again, Eva said, “Denki, but I have to go... Maybe you could kumme over to our haus for lunch next Sunndaag?”

  Susannah caught her breath. That’s what happens if I speak when I’m angry—I make a bigger mess of things, she thought, racking her brain for a gentle way to decline the invitation.

  Before she could come up with anything, Peter supplied an excuse for her, obviously as opposed to the idea of her visiting his house as she was. “Susannah’s grandparents might have made plans to bring her on visits with them next Sunndaag.”

  “Jah,” Susannah agreed. “I’m afraid I don’t know what my schedule is like yet. Denki for the invitation, though. I’m sure our paths will cross again eventually. Meanwhile, please greet your mamm for me.”

  “Okay, but if you find out you have a free afternoon or evening, you’re wilkom to join us for lunch or supper anytime.”

  As Susannah watched the brother and sister leaving the room together, she thought, Eva is such a schmaert, sweet maedel, but I’d rather go hungerich than to have to eat at the same table with Peter.

  Chapter Three

  On Monday morning, after Peter finished his third helping of oatmeal, Hannes joked, “Do you want to lick the pot clean, too?”

  “Harvesting potatoes is going to make me a lot hungrier than working in the shop is going to make you,” Peter replied pointedly. “Would you like to switch places?”

  “Neh. I’m hallich you’re the one helping Marshall instead of me.” Hannes looked him in the eye and Peter knew his brother really valued the sacrifice he was making on his behalf.

  Getting extra hungerich because I’m working outside all day is the least of what my bruder’s antics have cost me. As soon as the bitter thought popped into his mind, Peter dismissed it. While he did want his brother to appreciate the consequences of his actions so he wouldn’t repeat them, he didn’t want Hannes to feel indebted to him.

  For one thing, making a sacrifice for his family was part of Peter’s duty as the head of his household. For another, Hannes didn’t know Peter had broken off a courtship in order to pay for the car he wrecked. So Peter couldn’t really blame him for that; he couldn’t even blame Marshall. I’m the only one at fault, because I agreed to it, he thought.

  “For lunch, I’ve packed you a couple of ham-and-cheese sandwiches, a container of broccoli salad and an apple,” Eva announced, handing him a cooler. “I put several of those chocolate chip kuche in there, too.”

  Unfortunately, the cookies she was referring to were the kind that were wrapped in a plastic package and sold at the Englisch grocery store. Yesterday in church, Eva was being honest when she’d started to tell Susannah that they rarely had any homemade sweets in the house. Even though the meals Peter’s sister put together usually didn’t require much preparation time, going to school, keeping house, doing laundry and correcting papers kept her far too busy to make desserts. So she’d made a practice of buying cookies and cakes instead. Peter thought most of them tasted like cardboard coated in lard and sprinkled with sugar, and he rarely ate them, but today he’d likely be ravenous enough to eat almost anything.

  “Denki. Please save something from supper for me, too, okay?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to wait to eat until you get home?”

  “Jah. Sunset is around six thirty tonight and we’ll have to make a final run to the potato haus, so I won’t be home before seven. Maybe not even ’til eight.”

  Although Marshall was selling the potatoes to an Englisch buyer, he wouldn’t allow Englisch technology on his property, including windrowers, tractors and trucks. So he’d be unearthing the potatoes with a horse-drawn mechanical digger. The crew would be “picking” them from the dirt and putting them in what they referred to
as barrels, which were really cylindrical wooden containers that could hold sixty pounds of potatoes, since full barrels would have been too heavy for the men to lift.

  After the crew had filled enough barrels, Peter and Benuel would load them onto the buggy wagon, which was a buggy designed specifically for hauling cargo instead of passengers. Then they’d take them to the Englisch-owned potato house, or storage building, for the Englisch buyer to transport them to the marketplace from there. The men would work in the fields from shortly after sunrise at six thirty until shortly after the sun set twelve hours later.

  “That’s going to be a long day. Maybe I should pack another sandwich to hold you over until you return?” Eva offered.

  “Neh, that’s okay. I’ve got to get going.” Peter didn’t want to reinforce Marshall’s belief that he was irresponsible by showing up late to work. He reminded Hannes to check in on their mother a couple of times during the day, wished Eva a good day at school and then headed out the door.

  I hope Mamm is more rested today, he fretted as he traveled toward the farm. Then his thoughts wandered to Susannah again. His second interaction with her had gone only marginally better than his first. He had tried to exit the church building surreptitiously so he wouldn’t have to speak to her, but there had been no way to avoid it once Eva drew him into the conversation. And, in a way, it was a good thing she’d included him—otherwise his sister might have blurted out that their mother had been too tired or depressed to do any baking recently.

  While Susannah had never been one to judge, Peter didn’t want her to find out Dorothy had been struggling with fatigue this past year. Not only because it would have embarrassed his mother, but also because Susannah might mention it to her grandparents. Marshall already holds a low opinion of me—I don’t want him to decide Mamm is lazy, too. Especially because he noticed her sleeping in kurrich yesterday, he thought.

  So last evening, he’d gently reminded his sister that it was important not to discuss their mother’s condition with anyone else. Eva had felt terrible for almost letting it slip in front of Susannah. “I’m such a bobbelmoul!” she’d lamented, explaining that she’d been so excited to see Susannah again that she’d rambled on without thinking. “I shouldn’t have invited her over to the haus, either, just in case Mamm is having one of her really bad days.”

  “Don’t worry,” Peter had assured her. “It sounded as if Susannah’s going to be too busy helping Lydia to kumme over here.”

  Even if Susannah didn’t have a full schedule, Peter knew there was virtually no chance she’d be dropping in at their house. She may have invited Eva to stay and have lunch after church with her, but everything about her stance and tone toward Peter indicated she wanted to keep as much distance between the two of them as possible...just as he’d suspected.

  As he neared the farm, his stomach tightened with apprehension and he silently prayed, Lord, please bless my work in the fields and please keep me from seeing Susannah today. But if I do, please help me not to say anything to upset her.

  * * *

  Susannah poured all of her frustration into scrubbing the greasy residue from a frying pan. On Saturday, after carefully preparing a menu, she’d gone shopping and bought enough groceries to last for three days, which was about all that would fit in her grandparents’ small refrigerator. This morning’s breakfast was supposed to include omelets, fresh fruit and yogurt with granola and a drizzle of honey. However, when Lydia learned what she was making, she insisted Susannah add pancakes and bacon to the meal, as well.

  “Marshall and the buwe need more sustenance than that to keep them going until lunchtime,” she’d insisted. “And we rarely eat yogurt, but when we do, it’s the kind with fruit in the bottom, not that diet kind.”

  Since she felt it wasn’t her place to object, Susannah had complied with Lydia’s wishes. But inwardly, she’d argued, It’s not diet yogurt—it’s plain. And the buwe will get plenty of sustenance from the protein in the oier, but I’m concerned about Groossdaadi having bacon—there’s too much salt in it.

  While she was aware her stepgrandmother had only asked for her help cooking, not for her dietary input, Susannah’s understanding of nutrition influenced what she made. Primarily because she cared about her grandparents and she had seen the effects of poor nutrition on her parents’ health. Marshall and Lydia weren’t overweight, but Lydia had mentioned Susannah’s grandfather had high blood pressure.

  Plus, Susannah had purchased groceries according to the menu she had planned. If her grandfather was going to expect to eat bacon every day, she’d have to go back to the store because Susannah had used up the last of what was in the fridge. I can see if the store stocks reduced-sodium bacon. And at least the buwe will eat anything, so the food I already bought won’t go to waste, she thought.

  After cleaning up the breakfast dishes, doing the laundry and sweeping the floors, she went into the living room, where Lydia was reading the Bible, and asked if she wanted to take a walk with her.

  “A walk? Where do you want to go?”

  “Just to the tree line out back,” she suggested. Her grandparents’ house was positioned on the western end of the farm, with the fields stretching to the east and north. Susannah figured if she walked across the grassy, unplowed meadow directly behind the house toward the tall pine trees, she wouldn’t run the risk of bumping into the crew as they were harvesting the russets in the acreage closest to the house. More specifically, she wouldn’t come within shouting distance of Peter.

  “Why would we want to do that?”

  Susannah anticipated the negative response she’d get if she told Lydia she wanted to walk simply because it was good exercise. Many of the Amish people she knew, especially those who were older, considered exercising for the purpose of exercising to be an Englisch pursuit. Physical exercise was a result of their lifestyle and hard work, but it wasn’t considered the goal. So she carefully answered, “Because it’s a pleasant way to enjoy the beautiful scenery Gott made. I don’t get to see so many pine trees like this in Dover.”

  “That’s why the windows are made of glass,” Lydia teased. “Besides, it’s a little chilly today. Kumme keep me company while I have another cup of kaffi. We haven’t had a moment to chat in private since the buwe arrived. I want to hear what your friend Dorcas had to say when she saw you in kurrich yesterday.”

  “Dorcas wasn’t in kurrich yesterday. She was spending the weekend with her familye in Serenity Ridge. I don’t know if she’s back yet.” Susannah distractedly looked out the window and suddenly she was struck with an idea: she’d walk to the market to pick up more bacon and sausage for tomorrow’s breakfast.

  She thought she’d come up with the perfect way to get some exercise, but Lydia argued, “All the way on the other side of West River Road? That’s too far and too dangerous. There’s no shoulder on that road—an Englisch high school bu was recently hit riding his bike there. Your grandfather will insist you take the buggy.”

  Lydia was right; although most Amish men and women considered traveling by foot to be an integral part of their daily routine, Marshall had always been concerned about where and how far his granddaughter walked, especially in New Hope. Aware he wasn’t going to budge on the issue, Susannah gave in. “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll take the buggy to the store.”

  “While we’re talking about shopping, I noticed you didn’t buy any beef. Weren’t you planning on making sloppy joes for lunch?”

  “Jah. But I’m using ground turkey, not beef.” Susannah had memorized her favorite sloppy joe recipe, which also included a homemade sauce, carrots and green peppers.

  “Oh, so that’s what that turkey is for.” Lydia wrinkled her nose. “I suppose that’s okay, but it doesn’t seem like you’ll have nearly enough to feed five hungerich menner.”

  “Five?” Susannah nearly shouted. “I didn’t know Benuel and Peter were coming for lunch
today!”

  “They’re coming for lunch every day. I thought I told you that you’d be cooking for the whole crew?”

  What she’d thought Lydia said was that she’d be cooking for the out-of-town crew, referring to Conrad and Jacob, since Susannah hadn’t known Benuel was coming from Serenity Ridge. “I guess I misunderstood. I figured Benuel and Peter would bring their own lunches.”

  “Neh. I can’t let them eat a cold lunch while we’re all in here enjoying a hot meal. I just wouldn’t hear of it,” Lydia declared. But her voice softened as she added, “We’ll make do for this afternoon and you’ll be going to the market later, anyway, so you can supplement what you bought on Samschdaag. There’s no need to look so upset, dear.”

  Jah, there is, Susannah thought, close to tears at the notion of dining with Peter on a daily basis. But almost immediately, she consoled herself with the knowledge that there wouldn’t be enough room at the table for all seven of them. So Susannah could claim she was too busy serving to sit down with everyone else. “I’d already planned to make a salad but I suppose I could supplement our lunch with more vegetables,” she proposed.

  “Jah—how about mashed potatoes?”

  “I was thinking of roasted cauliflower and broccoli.”

  “Neh, potatoes are more filling. They’re the perfect thing to have on the first day of harvest.” Lydia looked out the window. “I see Peter and Benuel are loading the barrels into the buggy wagon—if you hurry, you can catch them before they leave and ask them to fill a basket for you now.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll go out and pick some myself after you’ve finished your kaffi.”

  “Neh, don’t wait on my account—you’ve been itching to get outside. Besides, I told Marshall to kumme in for lunch at twelve thirty, so you’ve got a lot of peeling to do before then.”