by Laura Hilton
She started peeling the mound of potatoes her mother had placed beside the sink, setting the peeled spuds onto a sheet of newspaper.
“The schnitz pies just went in the oven,” Mamm announced. “I’m going to kill the chickens.” She touched Becky’s shoulder and stood still a long moment, her hand resting there comfortably. Then, she pulled Becky into a sideways hug. “If you care to talk, I’m willing to listen.”
Tears burned Becky’s eyes, and she struggled to keep from flinging herself into Mamm’s arms and crying out all her woes—her hopeless feelings for Jacob, her deep dislike of Amos Kropf, and her willingness to be a maidal all her life if Jacob wouldn’t have her.
But emotions were something Becky had thought she’d gotten under control. At least, until Jacob had arrived. She’d cried more over her mistakes in the past several days than she had since Kent’s rejection of her and Emma, and since the lies had begun.
Mamm lingered a moment, gave her another squeeze, then released her. “I’ll be right back. When you see Katie, ask her to bring in the laundry, okay? I asked her to get the gifts for Mary ready. But I’m thinking we’ll celebrate her birthday either before the Kropfs arrive or tomorrow. It really isn’t a gut time for company.”
That would be the only negative thing Mamm would say about Daed’s having invited Amos Kropf and family to supper.
The door shut behind Mamm. Becky shifted the sling and the now sleeping Emma, growing heavy at her side.
She sighed and picked up the next potato.
***
Jacob looked up from the forge, disturbed by the sudden squawking of chickens. Daniel didn’t seem to be paying much mind to the racket, but Jacob worried that something was bothering them. He decided to check it out, so he put down his things. It could be a fox. “I’ll be right back,” he told Daniel.
Daniel nodded, and Jacob made a beeline toward the chicken coop. Leah, holding an ax in one hand and a chicken in the other, was headed toward a stump in the yard.
Jacob stood there watching for a moment. Should he offer to help her kill the chicken? He felt a bit disappointed that it was Leah and not Becky, but then he realized that Becky would be in the house, away from her mamm’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where the grossmammi spent her days, but she certainly never seemed to show up in the kitchen except at mealtimes. Odd. His grossmammi loved to cook.
No matter. If Becky was alone, maybe he could talk with her.
And a couple of cookies sounded right good. A cup of coffee, too.
Whistling, he strode toward the house, opened the door, and paused to wipe his feet before entering the kitchen. There she was, wrapping up a bundle of something into a damp newspaper.
“Hey, Bex. Got a minute?” He stopped beside her at the sink and reached for a bar of soap.
He didn’t look at her as he soaped up, but he sensed her freeze and then stiffen.
He wanted to ask her to walk with him again, but then his nose caught a whiff of something sweet, and he realized that the scent came from the oven. She probably wouldn’t want to leave whatever was baking unattended.
“Jah.” Her reply was belated.
“Gut. I could use a cup of coffee and maybe a cookie or two. Take a break with me?”
Becky hesitated. “Nein. I need to slice the potatoes.” She picked up a knife and turned away.
She must be an expert at rejection.
Jacob frowned and poured himself some coffee.
“Mamm said you and Daed need one of those Englisch coffeepots in the shop.”
Jacob lowered the cup without taking a sip. She had to be teasing.
He turned to face her. “If we had a coffeepot out there, then I wouldn’t get to see your pretty face so much.” He added a wink. Surely, that would make her smile.
Color crept up her neck, and she shifted again, adjusting a blue thing that hung from her shoulder. He saw Emma asleep inside.
“Is that getting heavy for you?” Jacob put the cup down and stepped toward her.
“Jah. A bit.”
“Here. Put the knife down. I’ll help you.”
He waited while she laid the knife down and turned to face him. Then, he put one arm under her sleeping boppli and, with the other, gently eased the contraption off of her. “Want her in the cradle?”
“Jah.” She rolled her shoulders and neck.
Jacob eased Emma into the cradle and folded the blue blanket-like thing as best he could. Then, he moved toward Becky again. “Want a massage?”
Her eyes widened. Color shot into her cheeks. “Nein. Danki.”
“Relax, Bex.” He could feel the tension radiating from her as he went past, reaching for the cookie jar. He lifted the lid and pulled out two cookies, hesitated, and went for a third. They were chocolate chip with walnuts. His favorite, and he hoped to tempt Becky to take a break.
He set the cookies down on the table, putting one at her place. Then, he poured a second cup of coffee for her. “Kum, Bex. You did say you had a minute.” He aimed a grin in her direction. “Please?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded and lowered herself into the chair. “Did you open Susie’s letter?”
Jacob’s smile froze. Died. “Nein. Not yet.” Did she feel the need to remind him of Susie every time they were alone together? How would she react if he told her he wanted to take a break with Susie, to sort out the confusing whirl of emotions coursing through him, and to possibly pursue a relationship with her?
He reached across the table for her hand, intending to do just that. His fingers grazed hers. Sparks ignited.
The door opened. Closed with a bang. In his peripheral vision, he saw Becky’s mamm enter the room.
She paused, surveying the scene. “What’s going on?”
Her tone didn’t sound judgmental, but Jacob suddenly considered the impropriety of his actions. He pulled his arm back, stood, and spun.
“I’d best be getting back to the shop.” He snatched up his cup of coffee and the cookies and exited the kitchen as fast as he could.
***
Becky’s skin still tingled from Jacob’s touch. Her face burned with embarrassment at Mamm’s interruption, but thankfully, Mamm went to work without another word.
Becky picked up the knife, noticing that her hands trembled. She hoped that she wouldn’t accidentally slice one of her fingers. She took a potato and pushed the knife through it with a force that might have caused the wooden cutting board to protest if it could talk.
Why couldn’t Jacob leave her alone?
And, more important, why did she have to respond? Why hadn’t she jerked away and run from the room? The way he continually reached for her, he probably believed that she really was as loose as Kent claimed. And then what? He’d try to lure her up into the dark recesses of the barn loft?
Becky froze and swallowed a sob, the knife suspended just millimeters above the potato.
Ach, God. How much are You asking me to bear? I can’t go through this a second time.
But then again, which was worse? Jacob giving her attention that made her feel loved and wanted, or being forced to endure unwanted advances from Amos Kropf, a man who might be her future husband?
Why did she always have to fall for the guys who “loved them and left them,” as she’d once heard some Englisch girls say? It seemed to fit.
The knife slammed against the cutting board again. This time, Mamm turned around. “Daughter, if you keep that up, you’re going to dull the knife. Send Katie out to the kitchen. I think you need to go to your room and spend some time in prayer.”
Becky hesitated a moment, wanting to talk back. But maybe being alone was exactly what she needed. And maybe she could take that big family Bible upstairs and do some reading, too. Sometimes, she yearned to go deeper—something forbidden by their Old-Order Amish Ordnung.
But then, once, she’d caught Mamm with a Bible study guide. She’d quietly shut it and hadn’t acted bothered at all. She’d only said something about them all havin
g their own private vices.
And they did. After all, Daed carried a cell phone. He said it was for business, but Becky had seen him use it for personal calls.
She quietly put the knife down and left the room with a glance at the sleeping Emma. She found Katie pushing a dust rag around the gas light fixtures in the living room. “Mamm wants you.”
“Okay.” Katie balled up the dust rag and walked toward Becky. “You like him, ain’t so?”
She hadn’t specified who “him” was, but Becky knew. She stared at Katie for a moment, wondering if her sister had come into the kitchen while she and Jacob had been sitting at the table and he had touched her hand. Or maybe she’d only heard them talking. Katie’s gaze revealed nothing.
Becky swallowed. Hard. “He has a sweetheart.”
Katie’s grin was crooked. “She needs to be worried. He’s into you.”
Stunned by the Englisch words, Becky watched Katie go past, then turned and ran up the stairs. Could it be true? Might Jacob really like her that way? Her bedroom window faced the blacksmith shop. For a long while, she stood there, staring out, hoping for a glance of Jacob. He didn’t come into view.
Finally, she turned away. Going into her parents’ room, she found Mamm’s small Bible. She settled down on her parents’ bed and opened the Book.
She didn’t know how long she’d sat there reading and praying for peace and understanding, as well as a reprieve from the evening’s plans, but finally a shadow crossed the door, and Mamm stepped in. “You’d best kum down now, daughter. Amos Kropf is here.”
Chapter 16
Jacob helped Daniel put away tools in the blacksmith shop, then flipped the sign in the window so that it read “Closed.” Not that the sign seemed to matter much. Everyone around town appeared to know the hours, and those who came when it was closed just had to go up to the house. Daniel would help them, even if only by taking their items and writing them on the list of projects to do the next day.
Still, Jacob could have used several more hours out here. Since he’d left the kitchen, he’d been mentally kicking himself for his inappropriate actions toward Becky. How dare he have asked her if she wanted a massage? It was a good thing she’d refused his forward offer. How could he face her again? Yet he didn’t want to keep his distance. The dinner with Amos Kropf loomed like a menacing storm. The way that man looked at Becky…it was just wrong.
A strong instinct within him screamed to stake some sort of claim on Becky tonight and send this Amos Kropf packing. If only he could. But that would be unfair to Becky, not to mention Susie, to whom he’d already made a promise. And not when Becky did need a husband—someone who would love her, cherish her, appreciate her, and take care of her.
Someone like him.
His stomach clenched.
He’d be writing Susie at his first opportunity to ask for that break.
Noticing the Kropf buggy parked in front of the house, Jacob slammed the door to the blacksmith shop on his fingers and yelped.
Daniel turned to look at him. “Something bothering you, Jacob?”
Jacob glared. Daniel should know full well what bothered him.
Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and studied him. “Care to take a walk?”
It wouldn’t do any good. Jacob would still be conflicted over the situation.
He shook his head. “Nein.” If Amos Kropf was in that house, ogling his Becky…. “His” Becky? When had she become his?
Daniel nodded his head toward the fields, apparently not taking Jacob’s answer as final. “Kum.” He started walking away from the house and toward the fields.
Jacob shuffled his feet in the gravel for a second. Then, with another glance at the house, where unwanted company waited, he hurried to catch up with Daniel.
“What’s on your mind?” Jacob didn’t want to give Daniel the opportunity to drag confessions and secrets from him. If he could control the conversation, he would.
Daniel sighed. “I don’t like it, either. Amos Kropf and Bishop Sol have apparently been talking about this for some time, since I got a visit from both men. Amos wants to marry her before the young men kum down for the swap, and he won’t even wait until wedding season. As soon as possible, he said.” He kicked at a clump of dirt, breaking it up. “Bishop Sol wanted to take Becky out and talk to her, prepare the way for Amos’s proposal. But I can’t do that to her. She needs to have some choice in the matter.”
“Jah.” She needed more than some choice.
“They are pushing. Hard. They really aren’t even allowing me a decision. Becky is, uh…a disgrace, I guess. But Amos, well, it’s been said that he’s abusive. I just can’t in gut conscience allow my daughter…. I love her, you know.”
“Jah, I know you do.” Jacob nodded.
“So.” Daniel glanced at Jacob. “What are your thoughts?”
Jacob chewed his lip. Was that supposed to be a nice, tactful way of asking his intentions? He scratched the back of his neck. No way would he tell Daniel about how he’d offered to give Becky a massage. He simply had to get his raging hormones under control, that was all. At least until he was free to pursue her the way she deserved.
“You like her, ain’t so?” Daniel asked, not waiting for Jacob to formulate an honest answer.
“Jah.” Jacob hoped his shrug appeared nonchalant. “What’s not to like?”
Daniel looked down. “I want better for Becky. I want her to have a choice and to marry for love, like her mamm and I did.”
“Only fair.” Jacob nodded. That was what he wanted, too.
Daniel shook his head. “I just can’t see him being her choice.”
“Nein.” He’d better not be.
“You got any ideas how to run Amos off?”
Ach, he had ideas. But none of them was worth mentioning.
Daniel glanced around, apparently making sure they were alone. “Nein? Gut. I do.”
***
Becky closed the Bible and slid it back into the top drawer of Mamm’s dresser, being careful not to bend the cover. Then, she straightened the coverlet on her parents’ bed, erasing all evidence of her having sat there. Not that they minded, but it would postpone her going downstairs. After checking in on Abbie and Mary, who were playing quietly in their room with their dolls, Becky went to her own room and peeked out the window at the blacksmith shop. Then, she noticed Daed and Jacob walking out in the field, deep in conversation, it looked like. Maybe discussing the crop they’d be putting in soon.
Not able to think of anything else to keep her upstairs, Becky walked slowly into the hallway and down the staircase without straightening her hair, washing her face, or doing anything else to freshen up. Why bother? She didn’t want to impress Amos Kropf. Just Jacob.
She found the Kropf family in the kitchen with Mamm and Katie. Amos sat at the long kitchen table in Jacob’s seat, downing a cup of coffee. His kinner were lined up awkwardly against a wall, looking uncomfortable and unhappy. Some of them looked plain mad.
All buwe. Becky counted—seven kinner. And the oldest one didn’t look all that much younger than she. He’d probably be in his rumschpringe in a year or two. Studying him, Becky’s eyes widened. She remembered him from when she was in school. He was only a year behind her. So, he would be in his rumschpringe now.
The youngest one looked about three. He was a cutie.
But still, how could she be a mamm to this family when the oldest child was almost her age? What could Daed be thinking?
She aimed what she hoped looked like a smile in the direction of the kinner, but it probably looked more like a grimace. “Welkum.”
She got a couple of grunts in reply. Communicative bunch.
“Care for more coffee?” She glanced at Amos Kropf’s cup, almost half full. “Maybe a warm-up?” Turning for the coffeepot, she cast a desperate glance at Mamm, silently begging for help. Though what Mamm could do to help the situation, she didn’t know.
Maybe she should be turning to God. Lord, h
elp me out, here. Help him to realize I’m not the frau he wants….
She grabbed the coffeepot and turned, almost running into Amos Kropf, who had stood up while her back had been turned.
“Rebekah.” He stepped in closer, talking the whole time. Becky had no idea what he was saying. She couldn’t focus. It sounded like a bunch of nonsense. She stood there, uncertain, for who knows how long, holding the coffeepot and staring at his bushy, grayish-brown beard. He leaned toward her, and she caught a whiff of garlic on his breath. Ugh.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this. She. Couldn’t. Do. This.
The door opened, and Daed came in, whistling.
Whistling!
Becky stared at him in disbelief. Didn’t he realize what he was doing?
“Welkum, Amos!” Daed shook Amos’s hand. “Right beautiful weather today, ain’t so?” As if he hadn’t seen the man all day.
Becky shook her head. Ignoring the chatting men standing by the stove, she refilled Amos’s coffee cup, then filled a cup for Daed. After putting the pot back on the stove, she went over to speak to the kinner.
She’d just finished making small talk with all seven when the sound of buggy wheels crunching in the gravel drive caught her attention, and she turned to glance out the window. Who could it possibly be this close to dinnertime?
“Ach, that must be your beau, Becky. You’d best run and get ready, jah?”
Becky swung around and stared at Daed in disbelief. He winked at her, then nodded toward the other room. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of Emma.”
Becky darted from the room, relieved. But the relief was short-lived. When had Daed arranged a date for her? And with whom?
***
Jacob’s stomach churned as he drove the buggy from the shed to the house. Funny how this date with Becky affected him. He didn’t remember being this nervous with Susie the first time. Of course, Susie had pretty much made all the arrangements. She’d decided they’d go out and had told him to pick her up down the road, out of view from her house. She’d wanted him to take her to eat at her favorite restaurant and then go riding. Susie was the life of the party, as he’d heard an Englischer say once. He’d been flattered by her attention.
