An Unexpected Amish Harvest

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An Unexpected Amish Harvest Page 8

by Carrie Lighte


  “It’s fine. I’ll look at the step to see what I can do. It’ll take a couple minutes to reverse my direction.” He turned and walked back down the narrow road. When he neared his hat, he lifted it from the ground, clapped it against his palm and got into the carriage. Even though Susannah knew it was utterly irrational, since she hadn’t exactly been courteous to him, she felt the tiniest bit slighted that he didn’t offer to give her a ride back to the house.

  “Did you catch my bruder in time?” Eva asked when Susannah opened the door and stepped onto the small braided rug. Honor was standing behind her in the hallway and the other women’s voices could be heard coming from the kitchen.

  “Jah, he’s turning the buggy around.”

  “I’ll get a towel. You’re dripping and dirty and we’ve already scrubbed the gathering-room floor,” Honor said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Eva left, too, so Susannah removed her boots, and as she was waiting for Honor to return, Peter came in, toolbox in hand. Susannah moved to one side of the rug so he could take off his boots. He’d barely untied his laces when Dorcas came out of the kitchen, smiling. “Denki for coming back, Peter. Kumme, I’ll show you the damage.”

  Peter followed her down the hall, out of sight, but Susannah could still hear their voices. “This won’t be any problem,” Peter said. “I have some boards this size left over from when I redid our staircase. I’ll go get one and kumme back a few minutes before I pick Eva up at two o’clock so I don’t have to make an extra trip.”

  “You should kumme at noon instead. That’s when we’re taking a break for lunch and we’ve got lots of gut food here,” Dorcas offered, to Susannah’s dismay. Having made a fool of herself chasing Peter down for help as if the house had been on fire, she wanted a little more time to pass before she had to sit down at a table with him again. But he accepted her invitation and then Dorcas asked, “Would you like a cinnamon roll to take with you for now?”

  Peter said something in a hushed tone that Susannah couldn’t hear. However, Dorcas’s melodic laughter rang out loud and clear. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It will be our little secret.”

  What will be their little secret? Susannah wondered as she heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Honor asked Peter if he’d take a look at the loose doorknob on the linen closet, too. A few seconds later, she came down the hall and handed Susannah a towel.

  “You look like something the cat dragged in,” she teased.

  Susannah blotted her face, and the sleeves and hem of her dress, with the towel, then went into the bathroom. A glimpse in the mirror revealed her curly hair was fluffing up higher than ever, her prayer kapp was crooked and she had dirt smeared across both of her cheeks, which were blotchy from the exertion of running. I look like something the cat wouldn’t drag in, she thought.

  Despite claiming her appearance wasn’t as important to her as it seemed to be to others, Susannah was disgusted with her reflection. She looked terrible and she felt terrible. Although she couldn’t really put a finger on why, she suspected her low mood had something to do with the fact that her closest friend in New Hope had been laughing and sharing secrets with her former suitor. Dorcas knows how deeply he hurt me, Susannah thought. Doesn’t she have any sense of loyalty? It wasn’t that she expected Dorcas to ignore Peter, but Dorcas was being friendlier to him than she was being toward Susannah.

  Then she wondered whether it was possible Peter and Dorcas liked each other. That didn’t make any sense, though, because Dorcas was even heavier than Susannah had been at her heaviest. Peter wouldn’t have any romantic interest in a weibsmensch who weighs as much as Dorcas does and Dorcas wouldn’t have any romantic interest in a mann who would reject a weibsmensch because of her weight, she reassured herself. Not that she cared about who Peter courted, but Susannah didn’t want Dorcas winding up feeling as crushed as she had felt.

  When she emerged from the bathroom, she went into the kitchen. No one was in there; she could hear muffled voices coming from the rooms overhead. Noticing there was still half a pan of cinnamon rolls, she quickly pulled one of them from the loaf and took a huge bite. Icing dribbled down her chin. She dabbed it off and then licked her fingertip before taking another big bite of the roll. Three more bites and it was gone, but she’d eaten it so quickly she hardly tasted it, so she took another to enjoy at her leisure.

  She’d only nibbled a third of the way through the cinnamon swirls to the sticky sweet center when she heard footsteps approaching. Panicked that she’d be caught eating the kind of food everyone thought she avoided, she shoved the rest of the bun into her mouth. Her cheeks felt as round as a chipmunk’s, but her mouth was too full for her to move her jaw enough to chew the thick, soft dough.

  As someone entered the kitchen, she twirled around toward the sink and picked up a clean glass, pretending she was washing it so she wouldn’t have to face whoever had just come in.

  Peter walked over and set his mug on the counter next to the sink. “Sorry,” he said. “I know how frustrated my schweschder gets when she’s almost done with dishes and someone brings her one more.”

  “Mmm.” That was as close as she could come to pronouncing an actual word. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shift from foot to foot, but he didn’t leave.

  “I, um, I’m also sorry I caused you to fall the other day. I would have felt baremlich if you’d gotten hurt. I—I hope you’ll forgive me since, you know, we’ll be around each other on the bauerei for a few more weeks. I know things have been kind of awkward between us, but if there’s anything that I can do to make you feel more comfortable about my presence there, I’ll do it. Because I’d like it if we could be...more neighborly to one another.”

  Susannah couldn’t answer him because her mouth was still too full, but how would she have responded, anyway? It would have been immature and unkind to tell him, The only thing that would make me feel more comfortable about your presence on the bauerei would be my absence from it.

  There were too many people nearby, so she couldn’t very well have added, And you did hurt me, but not because you caused me to fall in the mud. Besides, he knew how she’d felt when he’d broken up with her and he had already apologized that his decision had hurt her feelings.

  Deep down, Susannah knew it was time to forgive him, to really forgive him. To ask the Lord to take the lingering hurt and anger she felt toward Peter and to help her to treat him in a way that reflected God’s love instead of her unforgiving spirit. She still didn’t think it was right for him to break up with her the way he had. But it was just as wrong for her to continue bearing a grudge against him...and for essentially expecting Dorcas to bear one, too. Especially since Peter had indicated he was willing to do whatever it took to make Susannah feel more comfortable around him for the duration of the harvest season.

  She tried to say, I’d like that, too. Except her mouth was so full it came out more like “Erd wrikat ru.”

  In her peripheral vision, she could see Peter cocking his head and scrutinizing her. She managed to swallow a bit of the roll and then she covered her mouth with her hand and said, “I’d like that, too. I mean, I think we can be more neighborly to each other from now on.”

  “Gut.” Peter nodded vigorously. He waited a moment, as if he expected her to say something else, but when she didn’t, he told her he’d see her later and then he left the room.

  As soon as she heard the front door close, Susannah went over to the trash bin and spat out the rest of the roll. She’d completely lost her desire for it, now that the Lord had replaced her bitter resentment with the sweet taste of forgiveness.

  * * *

  Denki, Gott, Peter silently prayed. He was so grateful that Susannah hadn’t rebuffed him that he could have jumped up and clicked his heels together as he made his way back to the buggy. He’d asked the Lord to show him what to say or do to help her feel more comfortable around him. But until he
saw Susannah standing alone by the sink, it hadn’t occurred to Peter to ask her that same question.

  It was such a relief to have directly addressed the awkwardness between them. Granted, he didn’t expect they’d suddenly engage in long, meaningful conversations or anything like that, but at least now Susannah might not recoil at the sight of him. And he wouldn’t feel quite so tense around her, either, always afraid he’d say or do something to upset her even more.

  He journeyed toward the other side of town and when he reached his family’s property, he headed toward the house instead of the workshop. He had left a note telling his mother where everyone had gone, but he wanted to stop in to try to urge her to get up and have something to eat. But, to his astonishment, she was sitting in the living room, reading her Bible and drinking tea.

  When he explained why he had to return to the Hiltys’ home, she said, “Oh, gut. This gives me the opportunity to write a note for you to take for Elizabeth. I might not have the energy to help at the frolic, but I can still let her know I’m praying for her recovery.”

  Recognizing his window of opportunity—and feeling encouraged by how well Susannah had responded when he’d broached a difficult subject—Peter replied, “You know, Mamm, a different dokder might be able to help you regain your energy again so that you can go to frolics. And, more importantly, so you can start to feel better.”

  “Shush, suh. You’re ruining my concentration,” she said, waving her free hand at him as she inscribed a note card with the other. But Peter was heartened that she hadn’t definitively refused to see a different doctor.

  Maybe with a few well-timed suggestions, she’ll agree to make an appointment, he thought an hour later as he made the return trip to the Hiltys’ home with the board and tools he needed. Even before entering the house, he heard peals of laughter and he smiled to himself, imagining the fun Eva must have been having with her friends. But when he went inside, he was surprised to find Benuel was the one making the young women giggle.

  “Hi,” Peter greeted him. “I didn’t expect to see you at this frolic.”

  “I came to pick up Emily.”

  Emily Heiser, a year older than Eva, was Benuel’s cousin. “Jah, I recently started a job babysitting for an Englisch familye,” she said. “I don’t have to be there until two o’clock, but I think Benuel showed up early because I told him about all of the gut food we were making.”

  “What can I say? It’s true,” Benuel admitted with a shrug.

  “We’re freezing or storing most of what we made for Elizabeth and David, but we’ve set aside plenty for all of us, too. It’ll be ready in a few minutes, if you menner want to fix the stair in the meantime,” Hannah suggested.

  So Benuel followed Peter to the staircase, even though it was really a one-man job. “Can you smell that? It’s potato stuffing and beef and noodles.” He inhaled deeply. “I saw whoopie pies in there, too. One of the things I really missed when I lived with the Englisch was our food. Amish meed cook a lot better than the Englischers do. Well, except maybe for Susannah.”

  “What?” Peter asked as he pried the nails from the cracked board. Benuel had complimented Susannah after lunch every day. Had he just been flattering her? “I thought you liked Susannah’s cooking.”

  “I don’t dislike it. I just prefer my meals prepared the traditional Amish way.” Benuel lowered his voice and added, “But I understand why she tries to cut back on calories or makes low-fat versions of what other weibsleit make. The Englisch meed I knew did the same thing to keep their weight down. Amish or Englisch, I suppose all weibsleit want to look their best—especially when they’re single and they think it will help them attract a mann.”

  Benuel’s reply surprised Peter for two reasons. Firstly, he hadn’t realized Susannah had been cutting back on calories. The lunches she made were so tasty, especially in comparison to the processed food his sister usually bought, that Peter honestly hadn’t noticed any difference between her cooking and the traditional Amish meals his mother used to make.

  Secondly, although he’d noticed Susannah’s weight loss, he hadn’t suspected it was because she’d deliberately been on some kind of diet. Although in hindsight, he supposed that was more probable than her having lost weight due to an illness. Peter respected it if she was trying to take better care of her health, but Benuel had implied her real reason for losing weight was to catch the eye of a suitor. As becoming as she was, Susannah had never demonstrated that kind of vanity when Peter was courting her and he couldn’t imagine that she’d consider her physical appearance worthy of so much focus. Yes, she’d always looked tidy and well-groomed, as was customary, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who primped and preened in front of a mirror. She was more likely to be concerned about her inner character than her outer image.

  Furthermore, her supposed desire to lose weight didn’t seem like the kind of subject she would have discussed with a male acquaintance. Although it was possible she’d mentioned it to one of the women in the district and it had gotten back to Benuel, his perspective seemed to reflect his emphasis on outward appearances, not Susannah’s. It will take time for him to shake off the influence of the Englisch culture, Peter thought.

  Rather than respond to Benuel’s remark, he asked for his help aligning the new board in the casing. Benuel quickly took over the entire installation and Peter was admittedly impressed by his adroitness and attention to detail. At least the Englisch had a positive influence on him in regard to his craftsmanship, he thought. Peter’s mind immediately jumped to Hannes back at the workshop and he silently prayed that they’d receive at least a few orders this week.

  Fifteen minutes later, when everyone was squeezed around the table or standing at the counter to eat lunch, Hannah asked if Peter and Benuel had been able to repair the board on the staircase.

  “Jah. Except we didn’t repair it—we replaced it entirely,” Benuel answered. “It was splintered pretty badly. I’ve seen horses do less damage kicking a fence down than what you did to that board, Dorcas.”

  “Me?” Dorcas asked. “I didn’t break it.”

  “Neh?” He scanned the room. “Oh, it was Eva?”

  Eva paused with her fork in midair and she shook her head. “I wasn’t even here when it happened.”

  It was clear to Peter that Benuel had assumed either Dorcas or Eva had broken the step because they were overweight, but he silently prayed the assumption would be lost on both of them.

  “I was the one who broke it,” Hannah admitted.

  “You? But you’re so thin,” Benuel said and any hope Peter had that Dorcas and his sister wouldn’t be embarrassed flew right out the window. Dorcas’s cheeks turned bright red and Eva dipped her head and wiped her mouth with a napkin, as if she was trying to hide. Peter knew she was near tears.

  He was just about to say that the stairs were so old and worn that a person much lighter than Hannah could have broken the step, too, when she diplomatically replied, “Thin or not, I can be a real klutz. I was running down the stairs really fast and I hit the last step a lot harder than I intended.”

  “Jah, it’s amazing how powerful a slender person can be,” Susannah chimed in. “When I first saw you, Benuel, I thought, ‘He’s so lanky, how is he ever going to lift those potato barrels into the buggy wagon?’ Yet you slung them around like they were made of cardboard. I guess that’s one of many reasons it’s better not to make judgments or comments about someone else’s size.”

  Because her tone was so pleasant, Benuel probably didn’t know whether to feel insulted or complimented by Susannah’s remark and he didn’t reply. Peter wasn’t quite sure how she’d intended it, either, until he saw her wink at Eva, who had dropped her napkin back onto her lap and smiled at Susannah.

  As much as he appreciated how graciously Susannah had interceded, Peter was filled with nostalgia. Up until just now, he’d either been too nervous about offendin
g her or too busy eating the meals she’d made at the farm to really reminisce about the reasons he’d liked her so much. The way she’d responded to Benuel demonstrated both her strength and her gentleness: she had effectively set him straight, without tearing him down. And it made Peter remember that he used to daydream about what a good mother she’d make one day.

  She’ll still make a gut mamm, but not for my kinner. The thought filled him with such remorse he could hardly finish his lunch and he didn’t take any of the three types of desserts offered to him, either.

  After everyone was done eating, he excused himself to go upstairs and tighten the doorknob on the linen closet. Because the women had finished preparing the meals for Elizabeth and cleaning her house faster than they expected, they were ready to depart as soon as they’d washed and dried the lunch dishes. As Peter was lacing his boots, Eva and Dorcas shuffled down the hall.

  “I told Dorcas we can drop her off on the way home, Peter.”

  “Sure.” He moved over to make room for Susannah, who had come to put her boots on, too.

  “Is anyone giving you a ride?” Eva asked her.

  “My groossdaadi was supposed to pick me up at three o’clock, but I don’t want to hang around here until then. If I walk quickly, I can make it home before he leaves the haus.”

  “But it’s pouring outside,” Eva pointed out. “You should ride with us.”

  Peter winced, imagining how Marshall would react to him bringing Susannah home. He didn’t want to tell her outright that she couldn’t ride with them, but neither did he want to encourage her. He held his breath, hoping she’d decline his sister’s offer.

  “Oh, but Susannah enjoys exercising in the rain,” Dorcas said. “She’s been cooped up indoors all week, isn’t that right, Susannah?”

  Susannah looked so dejected that Peter decided he’d rather risk Marshall’s ire than allow her to think that she was unwelcome, or that he hadn’t meant what he’d said about being neighborly toward her.

 

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