An Unexpected Amish Harvest

by Carrie Lighte

  For the second evening in a row, their mother had joined them for supper instead of retreating to her room early. Peter didn’t know how long this spurt of energy would last, but he was grateful that the Lord had provided Dorothy a little more stamina than she usually had. Hannes and Eva seemed uplifted by their mother’s health improvement, too. Eva was especially bubbly, repeating anecdotes and gossip from the frolic that she’d already told them about yesterday.

  “Did you know that Hannah Miller and Isaiah Wittmer are getting married in December?” she asked her mother in a secretive tone.

  Most, although not all, Amish couples in their district tried to keep their courtships private from their friends and family members. If they decided to marry, the announcement of their upcoming weddings were “published” or announced in church sometime in October. And then the weddings took place on Tuesdays or Thursdays in November and December. However, Hannah and Isaiah had been courting for a long time and there were few people in the district who weren’t aware that this was the year they were finally getting married. But now that Eva was a teenager, she seemed more interested in discussing courtships and weddings than she had previously.

  “I think you mentioned it yesterday,” Dorothy replied. “Didn’t you tell us that her mamm wanted to host the hochzich meal at their restaurant instead of at the kurrich or in their home?”

  The majority of couples in other states got married in the brides’ homes, since that’s where the Amish met for worship. But because the New Hope district had constructed a church building for worship, some couples chose to hold their weddings there. However, no couple had ever considered getting married in a restaurant before, not even in an Amish one that was family-owned.

  “Jah. Even though the Ordnung doesn’t forbid it, Isaiah’s mamm didn’t want them to have their hochzich meals at the restaurant because it seemed too much like an Englisch hochzich reception.”

  “I can understand that,” Dorothy remarked. “Although it’s not as if Hannah and Isaiah intend to give the furniture away afterward.”

  Everyone chuckled at her comment, which was a reference to the Englisch picnic-table order Hannes had received on Saturday for a wealthy Englisch couple’s wedding reception. The bride and groom had impulsively decided to get married outdoors at the end of October and they wanted brand-new picnic tables handcrafted just for the reception. The wood was to be inscribed with their names and the wedding date; afterward, they intended to give the tables to their guests as gifts, or donate them to local parks. In order to fill the order by the deadline, Peter would have to help his brother in the workshop in the evenings, but he was grateful for the way the Lord had provided for this need, too.

  “I wish one of you would get married soon,” Eva commented to her brothers. “Then we could have a wedding and I’d finally have a schweschder.”

  “Peter will probably get married before I do since he’s older,” Hannes told her. “Although he’s got to be a suitor before he can become a husband.”

  Don’t hold your breath, Peter thought dolefully.

  “Maybe he’s already courted someone. And maybe I know who it is,” Eva taunted.

  Dorothy curiously tipped her head, eyeing Peter, and Hannes stopped slurping his broth and asked, “You’re someone’s suitor? If we guess who it is, will you tell us if we’re right?”

  “Neh, because I’m not courting anyone.” Peter felt his cheeks burn.

  Despite his obvious discomfort, his sister persisted, “Even if you’re not exactly courting her right now, you want to court her, don’t you?”

  Peter didn’t know how she’d found out he used to be Susannah’s suitor, but he couldn’t afford to have any rumors that he was interested in her again getting back to Marshall. He scowled and ignored her, but Eva persisted.

  Addressing Hannes, she hinted, “I can’t tell you her name but I can tell you she was at the frol—”

  “Absatz, Eva!” Peter demanded. Seeing his mother flinch and his sister’s eyes fill, Peter immediately regretted barking at Eva, especially because it was so rare for all of them to be engaged in such lively supper conversation. He rubbed his temples in slow circles and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

  “That’s okay, suh.” His mother reached over and patted his arm. “You should go relax or read for a while. You seem tired.”

  “Jah. I think I’ll hit the sack early tonight.”

  After he left the room, Peter heard Hannes as he scoffed, “Tired, nothing. Eva’s right. Whether he’s actually courting someone or not, he’s got a weibsmensch on his mind.”

  As he got ready for bed, Peter mulled over his brother’s comment. I do not have a weibsmensch on my mind, he silently argued. At least, not in the sense that Eva and Hannes were suggesting. Sure, over the weekend Peter had reflected on how relieved he was that he’d had a conciliatory chat with Susannah, but that wasn’t the same thing as thinking about her. And, yes, he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow, but only because he always got so hungry working on the farm and she was such a good cook.

  Besides, even if he had entertained a fleeting notion about becoming her suitor again, Peter knew that a courtship with her was an impossibility. Marshall would never allow it and Susannah would never want it, he reminded himself. Especially not if he told her why I broke up with her. So as he lay down to go to sleep, he resolved to squelch any unprompted thoughts of romance as soon as they popped into his mind.

  Chapter Seven

  On Monday morning, Susannah woke with a stomachache. Why did I eat supper last night? she asked herself. I was already full from the treats I had with my tea. She’d only been in New Hope a little over a week and it seemed like the healthy habits she’d spent the past eight or nine months developing were melting away like whipped cream on warm apple pie...which she’d also eaten last evening, since Almeda had brought them two. No wonder her skirt felt tight.

  Lord, please help me to exercise more self-control today, she prayed as soon as she’d gotten dressed, brushed her hair into a tight bun and pinned on her prayer kapp. Then she added, And please help me to find a way to get together with Dorcas in private, so we can smooth things out between us.

  As she was making breakfast, Susannah mentally planned out her day. Like most Amish women, unless it was raining she considered Monday to be laundry day. Which didn’t mean it was the only day they did laundry, but dirty clothes inevitably piled up over the weekend. Susannah intended to spend part of the morning running them through the ringer and then hanging them out to dry.

  However, since she’d gone to the frolic on Saturday, she hadn’t replenished their groceries for the first part of the week yet. I guess I’ll do that after lunch, she decided. The thought of lunch put a smile on her face; maybe now that she wasn’t at odds with Peter, she could relax and she wouldn’t overeat. Perhaps she’d even enjoy conversing with him a little.

  “Guder mariye,” her grandfather said as he and Lydia came into the kitchen, where she’d just set a pan of meatless breakfast scramble on the table.

  “You seem hallich. What are you thinking about?” Lydia questioned. “Or who are you thinking about that’s lighting up your eyes like that?”

  For a moment, Susannah felt as if her stepgrandmother had read the thoughts she’d just had about Peter. But then she realized she’d been referring to Benuel, so Susannah sighed. How was she going to convince Lydia she wasn’t interested in him as a suitor?

  “I’m just pleased it’s sunny again today,” she said as she poured coffee. “I need to go to the market. Would you like to ride with me?”

  Lydia’s countenance fell. “Neh. You go ahead without me. I’ll just sit in the living room and read.”

  Her mewling reply grated on Susannah’s nerves. Lydia had broken her wrist, not her ankle. Why was she acting as if she was almost completely incapacitated? “That’s up to you, but I hop
e you don’t expect me to hurry back,” she snapped.

  Lydia’s eyes widened, but Susannah felt too cross to apologize. I don’t mind doing the housework and fetching her whatever she needs, but I’m tired of constantly entertaining her. She’s acting as if she can’t function unless I’m in the same room and I feel like I’m suffocating!

  Susannah turned her back to arrange half a dozen slices of bacon on a pan in preparation for broiling it, which was somewhat healthier than frying. By the time it was thoroughly cooked, both of the boys had come in from doing the milking and everyone sat down to eat. Susannah’s grandfather seemed more talkative than usual, perhaps because he was making up for the strained silence between Susannah and Lydia.

  “On Dunnerschdaag, Lydia and I are going to her dokder’s appointment,” he informed Conrad and Jacob. Because Lydia had suffered a severe compound fracture, the specialist needed to take follow-up images to confirm it was healing properly. If it wasn’t, she’d possibly need surgery. “We’ll be leaving at eleven o’clock and not coming home until after supper, since we’re stopping to visit Lydia’s schweschder in Serenity Ridge on the way back. I’ll have to make sure everyone knows how to operate the digger, so someone can take my place. The rest of you will need to pick and take turns helping load the barrels onto the wagon. There’s supposed to be rain coming on Freidaag or Samschdaag again, so you’re going to have to keep up the pace. Keep your breaks to a minimum. Nothing longer than five minutes.”

  Jacob nodded his agreement as he continued downing his breakfast, but Conrad asked, “We only have five minutes to eat lunch?”

  “Don’t be lecherich. Of course you’ll take a full lunch break,” Lydia insisted. “Susannah will fix you something, as usual.”

  “Aren’t I going with you to the dokder?” Susannah asked. She had assumed Lydia would want her to travel with them, since she might need someone to help her with doors in the women’s room or something.

  “Neh. The driver charges per passenger and besides, the menner will be hungerich. They can’t harvest potatoes on empty stomachs. We’ll be gone for most of the afternoon, so you’ll need to stay home to get supper started, too.”

  Susannah could hardly contain her glee. I’ll have half a day all to myself—and I’ll have the buggy to myself, too! After lunch, I can go talk to Dorcas, since she said she’s not working until Freidaag. Maybe we can even take a walk at the gorge. Susannah was so invigorated by the prospect that she whipped through her morning chores.

  After hanging out the laundry, she came in to make up a grocery list, a task she and Lydia usually did together. But her stepgrandmother wasn’t sitting in her usual chair, nor was she in the bathroom. Susannah went down the hall and gently tapped on the bedroom door. “Lydia? Are you okay?”

  “Jah,” she answered tersely.

  “I’m going to make up a grocery list before I fix lunch. Do you want to help me decide what we need?”

  “Neh. You go ahead. Whatever you buy is fine, since you’re the one doing all the cooking, anyway.” Lydia still didn’t come to the door.

  Susannah hesitated. It was difficult holding a conversation this way, but she had an inkling Lydia was angry with her, so she asked through the wood, “Are you sure you don’t want to help me?”

  “Jah. I’d just appreciate having a little time to myself.”

  Not half as much as I’d appreciate it, Susannah thought, offended. She returned to the kitchen and checked the fridge and pantry to determine what items she’d need to restock. After making her list, she prepared lunch. When Conrad had asked at breakfast what she’d be serving for the noon meal, she’d told him they’d have French fries and fried chicken. But the fries were actually baked potato wedges and the chicken, which was coated with corn flakes, was also baked. She’d also serve steamed broccoli and salad, with a slice of leftover apple pie for dessert.

  Although she thought she’d appreciate preparing the meal without Lydia sitting at the table talking the entire time, the more time that passed, the guiltier she felt. Whether Lydia had retreated to her room because she was annoyed with Susannah or not, she knew she owed her stepgrandmother an apology for having spoken so sharply to her. So after she’d put the meal in the oven and had set the table, she knocked on Lydia’s door again.

  Entering, Susannah found Lydia seated in the rocker near the window, an open Bible on her lap. She went over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier, Lydia.”

  Her stepgrandmother patted her knee. “I understand. You’ve been very patient with me and my demands. It must be difficult for you to take care of your old groosseldre, keep haus and make meals for everybody without anyone else to help you.”

  “Neh, it’s not. I’m used to doing far more work at home. But even if I weren’t, I like helping you however I can.” Susannah chose her words carefully, trying to be kind yet direct at the same time. “I guess I’m used to being...a little more active.”

  “I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?” She appeared so sorrowful that Susannah immediately consoled her.

  “Not overbearing, it’s just that... Well, you’re usually more active, too, Lydia. I know there are a lot of things you can’t do because of your wrist, but it’s not like you to sit inside all day.”

  “Jah. You’re right.” She sighed, then confided, “I didn’t tell you or Marshall this, but the evening we went out for milkshakes, I accidentally smacked my hand against the trash receptacle in the women’s room and it hurt all weekend. Ever since then, I’ve been worried if I move around too much, I might fall again or do something careless and injure my wrist even worse. And the dokder said if it doesn’t heal properly, they may have to put screws or a plate in it. I can’t imagine having metal in my body. I’d feel like I was a piece of your groossdaadi’s farm equipment.”

  Although Lydia chuckled, Susannah’s eyes welled with contrition. She couldn’t believe that this whole time when her stepgrandmother had been sticking so close to her and wanting to sit down together all the time, it was because she was afraid. Susannah thought, That’s probably why she waited for Groossdaadi to help her out onto the porch yesterday, too. But at least he was sensitive about it, not impatient and snappish, like I was. This morning she’d asked the Lord to help her exercise self-control about what food she’d put into her mouth, when she should have been more concerned about exercising self-control about the words that came out of her mouth.

  “I’m sorry, Lydia. I didn’t realize you were so worried about getting hurt again.”

  “I should have told you, but I didn’t want to admit my fear because I felt like I wasn’t trusting Gott enough.”

  “I’m hallich you told me. And I’m sorry for being impatient.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve kept you holed up indoors all week, listening to me nattering on and on. But I understand that a young weibsmensch needs to get out for a little schpass with her friends. Why do you think I’m so eager for Benuel to court you?”

  Susannah chuckled. “I appreciate that, Lydia. But I’m honestly not interested in having Benuel as my suitor.”

  “Is it because you don’t want a long-distance courtship?”

  “Neh. It’s because I don’t want a courtship, period.”

  “You mean with Benuel...or with anyone?”

  “With anyone.” Susannah didn’t know how to make it any clearer than that.

  “Why not? Don’t you want to get married?”

  Not unless I were to marry a mann who’d love me for who I am, inside and out, no matter what. And I don’t think a mann like that exists, Susannah thought, but she answered lightheartedly, “Neh, because then I wouldn’t be as free to kumme visit you and Groossdaadi whenever I want... And I really do love spending time with you.” It was true; now that she’d had this heart-to-heart chat with Lydia, her resentment lifted and she treasured the opportunity to be in her grandparents’
presence again.

  “We love having you here, too... But I know two young menner who are going to be heartbroken to find out you’re not interested in a suitor at all.”

  “Two?”

  “Jah. Benuel and Peter.”

  Susannah guffawed. “I’ve already made it very clear to Benuel that I’m not interested in being courted by him, so if he’s heartbroken, that’s his own fault. And I’m absolutely positive that Peter has no interest in me.”

  “Trust me. I’ve seen how those two look at you. They’re both smitten.”

  “Neh. They’re just hungerich—they’re smitten with the meals I make.” Lydia’s observation had caused Susannah to blush so she hopped to her feet to leave the room. “Speaking of lunch, the hinkel should be nearly done by now.”

  But when they went into the hall, Susannah could smell an acrid stench. The chicken and potato wedges weren’t just done; they were burned to a crisp. After pulling the blackened food from the oven, she opened the windows to air out the room. That’s when she noticed the broccoli she’d intended to steam was still in the colander in the sink. The men would be coming in any second now, so she decided to just serve it raw.

  “The potatoes are unsalvageable,” she admitted to Lydia as she disposed of them. “But I made a big salad and I think the chicken might be okay if we scrape the coating off.”

  “Do you need me to get a hose?” Conrad asked when he came through the door as she was talking.

  “A hose? For what?” Susannah absently replied, peeking into the bread box; there was only a quarter of a loaf left, but they were so low on groceries they’d just have to make do with what they had.

  “To put out whatever is on fire.”

  “Voll schpass,” she retorted and turned around to make a face at him, as they sometimes did in jest.

  But Conrad had walked down the hall and Peter was alone on the braided rug by the door, wiping his feet. When he saw her, he grinned and said hello, his eyes twinkling. Lydia’s comment instantly flashed through Susannah’s mind. Was she right; did Peter look at her as if he was smitten? Neh. He’s just amused because he caught me making a lappich expression, she rationalized. As for the topsy-turvy way she felt, that was just because she was heady from the fumes of the burned food.