A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “How old is she?” Sam said, not knowing if he wanted the answer.

  Anna studied his face, as if wondering why he would ask such a question. This was not a good sign. “Well, she’s not too young and not too old. The perfect age for you.”

  Sam swallowed hard and reconsidered his plan. Maybe it would be better to avoid a meeting altogether. If Anna didn’t want to tell him how old the granddaughter was, it meant she was probably well into her thirties—at least. He squared his shoulders. All the more reason to get it over with. “There is a gathering for die youngie tomorrow night at Yutzys’ house.” He emphasized die youngie, just in case the granddaughter was too old to attend. “Do you think she would want to come?”

  “For sure and certain, as long as she doesn’t suspect anything.”

  “The Yutzys have a little footbridge out behind their house. Tell her to meet me there at seven o’clock sharp, and we can have a talk.”

  Sam could have read a book just by the light of Anna’s smile. “That is a wonderful-gute idea.” Her face suddenly fell and the light in her eyes went out. “But how will I ever convince her to meet you on the footbridge? She doesn’t want a husband until January.”

  How picky was this girl that she even had a certain month in mind? He forced a smile. “You are the expert matchmaker, Anna. I know you will come up with a gute plan.”

  “He’s right, Banannie,” Felty said. “You are smart enough to outwit even our granddaughter.”

  Anna seemed satisfied with that answer. “I will do my best for Sam. His future happiness depends on it.”

  “Okay then,” Sam said, standing up, “I’ll look forward to meeting your granddaughter at seven o’clock tomorrow night.” It wasn’t really a lie. He looked forward to putting this whole nonsense behind him, even if it meant hurting Anna’s plain, elderly granddaughter’s feelings. It couldn’t be helped.

  Anna reached up and patted Sam on the cheek. “You’re a gute boy, Sam. I’ve always thought so.”

  She wouldn’t like him so well when he had dashed all her hopes and dreams, but for now, it was nice to be on her good side. Anna Helmuth was the mammi everyone wished they had, even if she did like to meddle.

  * * *

  Anna had to push extra hard to shut the door behind Sam Sensenig. The wind was whipping up ferociously outside. She turned to Felty and clapped her hands together. “Well, dear, I knew he’d come around. Persistence is a matchmaker’s most important quality.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him how old Elsie is? There’s no shame in being twenty-two or twenty-three or however old she is.”

  Anna waved a hand in his direction. “I didn’t want to give Sam an excuse. Rose Mast is not yet twenty. Twenty-two might seem too old to him—or what if he likes older girls? He’d talk himself out of our Elsie before the lamb has a chance to shake its tail. Elsie is just the right age. He’ll figure that out when he meets her.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” Felty said, “but why didn’t you tell him she’s the new schoolteacher?”

  Anna pulled a knife from the cupboard and cut a generous slice of the cake Sam had brought. “It scares boys off when they think a girl is smarter than they are.”

  “But Banannie, Elsie doesn’t want to date someone who’s dumm.”

  “Sam’s not dumm, but I don’t know how he feels about smart girls. It’s best to let him fall in love with her first and let him find out how smart she is later.” Anna pulled out two plates and two forks and served a slice of cake for Felty and one for herself.

  Felty pointed to Anna. “A pretty face isn’t the only thing Elsie inherited from you, Annie. You’re both wonderful smart.”

  “Now, Felty dear,” Anna said, handing her husband a thick piece of chocolate cake, and right before dinner, no less. “Elsie got my smarts, but she’s much prettier than an eighty-five-year-old woman.”

  “Not to me she isn’t.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was only one way Elsie could see to put a stop to this nonsense, and it wasn’t by putting her foot down with Mammi. If Mammi was so stubbornly determined that Elsie meet this mystery boy, Elsie would oblige her. She planned on marching up that footbridge and telling whoever he was that she was in no way interested in a boyfriend and to please never bother her again. She knew how to be blunt, and she knew how to be direct. She just didn’t particularly want to embarrass him or hurt his feelings.

  Ach, vell. It had to be done. She’d get no peace from Mammi until she did. As long as this boy didn’t turn out to be like Wyman Wagler and follow her all over town like a puppy dog, everything would be put to rights by 7:05. Surely Mammi wouldn’t try to match her with someone as desperate as Wyman Wagler. Surely he’d be a reasonable young man who would leave her alone for good.

  There was no volleyball game in the Yutzys’ front yard tonight. It was November first, and last night the wind had blown in an icy rain that had driven most activities inside. Though the children had gone outside to play today, Elsie hadn’t organized a softball game. It was too wet and too cold. Wally had been one of the most disappointed, but even he could see that they couldn’t play in weather like that.

  Elsie walked into the Yutzys’ house. Four young men were playing Ping-Pong at a portable table set up in the great room. Carolyn and Clara Yutzy were helping their mater with a batch of pretzels in the kitchen, and three or four other girls stood around the table mixing up bowls of honey butter and mustard sauce.

  “Elsie!” Carolyn called as she dipped a twist of dough into a baking soda mixture.

  “Hallo,” Elsie called back.

  Carolyn set her pretzel on the pan, wiped her hands, and came around the table. “Ach, du lieva. I haven’t seen you for awhile.”

  Elsie smiled. She didn’t know a lot of people in Bonduel yet, but it was nice that she had a few friends. Carolyn was one of the nicest girls she’d met—open and accepting and exceptionally kind. She didn’t look at Elsie as if she were trying to find something wrong with her, and she had good sense and humor in her face that drew people to her as if they hoped some of her wisdom would rub off on them. “It’s been over a month. The last time I saw you was at the Eichers’ gathering.”

  Carolyn nodded. “Where Sam Sensenig ambushed you and gave you a lecture.”

  It had been a long time. That night, Elsie had wanted to run away at the very sight of Sam Sensenig. Now, not so much. Would Carolyn be shocked to know that Elsie would spend every day with Sam if she could find a gute excuse? Just the thought of him made her heart flip all over itself. Was it the way he smiled or the intensity in his eyes when he talked about his bruder? He was fiercely loyal to his family and yet so vulnerable because of them, unnecessarily hard on himself and unfailingly kind to everyone else.

  And she really liked him.

  Much as she would have preferred to spend the evening thinking of Sam, there were more pressing matters at hand. “Is there a window that looks out on the backyard?”

  If she thought it was a strange request, Carolyn didn’t flinch. She hooked her elbow around Elsie’s and led her down a long hall to the back door. The top half of the door held a nine-pane window.

  “Where is the footbridge?” Elsie asked.

  Carolyn pointed to the right. “Over there. Behind the tall aspens.”

  Elsie squinted into the light rain, and her stomach fell to the floor. There was indeed someone standing on the footbridge, for sure and certain waiting for her. He had his back turned to the house, so she couldn’t see his face, but even from this distance, she could tell he was a hefty man with very bad posture.

  Or maybe . . . she pressed her nose against the glass. He was hunched over with his elbows resting on the railing, and he was . . . fishing? Who fished in weather like this? Was the brook behind the Yutzys’ house big enough to fish in?

  Elsie turned around, pressed her back against the door, and blew air from between her lips. She had hoped against hope that he would have had the gute sense not to
show up. “Oh, sis yuscht,” she whispered, as if whoever that was out there would hear her if she said it too loudly.

  Carolyn cocked an eyebrow. She wasn’t one for dramatics. Neither was Elsie, but this situation suddenly seemed very dire. “Something scary out there?” Carolyn said.

  Elsie almost choked on her annoyance. “My mammi wants to marry me off to whoever is standing on your footbridge.”

  Carolyn’s other eyebrow inched up to meet the first one. She turned her gaze out the window. “Are you sure that’s who your mammi wants you to—”

  “I love my mammi, but sometimes she makes me a little cross. She arranged a meeting on your footbridge with some boy she wants me to marry, and she’s been so persistent and so eager that I finally agreed just to make her happy.” Elsie wrapped her fingers around Carolyn’s arm. “I really don’t want to marry that boy standing on the bridge.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Carolyn said. “That’s Vernon Schmucker.”

  Vernon Schmucker? The thirty-two-year-old bachelor who still came to gatherings in hopes of finding a bride? Elsie thought she might be sick. She’d already had an encounter with Vernon, and it hadn’t been at all pleasant.

  “At one time or another, Vernon has probably asked every girl in both Bonduel districts if he could drive them home from a singeon,” Carolyn said. “Poor Suvie Newswenger said yes and then couldn’t shake him for six months. He’s very keen on finding a fraa.”

  Really, Mammi? Don’t you think I could attract someone slightly younger and more interesting than Vernon Schmucker?

  Was this what Mammi thought of her? Elsie did speak her mind and tended to ruffle feathers wherever she went, but she’d never be desperate enough for Vernon Schmucker. Never.

  Never.

  Elsie slumped her shoulders. “Mammi must think I’m hopeless.”

  “Stuff and nonsense,” Carolyn said. “Your mammi can’t help meddling. You came into town suddenly. Maybe she didn’t have time to find another young man. Vernon is the most convenient, most willing bachelor in Bonduel.”

  “Ach, I wish she hadn’t done this. Now I’m going to have to go out there and tell Vernon I’m not interested, and he’s going to be embarrassed, especially if Mammi got his hopes up.”

  Carolyn shook her head. “Vernon doesn’t get embarrassed, but he is persistent. If he thinks there is even the slightest interest on your part, he won’t give up.”

  Elsie groaned. “My mammi has probably planted all sorts of notions in his head.”

  Carolyn sighed in exasperation. “If she mentioned marriage to Vernon, he’s probably drooling.”

  Elsie’s groan turned into a growl. “Dear, dear Mammi. What has she gotten me into?”

  Carolyn pulled on a heavy shawl that hung on a hook on the wall. “I’ll go out and talk to him.”

  “I should do it myself.”

  “Vernon has already proposed to me twice. The last time was in November on my twenty-fifth birthday. He knows how obstinate I am. He won’t argue with me.”

  Elsie tugged on one corner of Carolyn’s shawl. “Nae. I’ll go. It’s my mammi who got me into this, and my mess to sort out.”

  Carolyn retrieved a black bonnet from the hook. “We’ll go together. You don’t know Vernon like I do. I can help if he gets pushy.”

  Elsie swallowed her objection. Carolyn shouldn’t have to suffer aggravation just because Elsie’s mammi liked to meddle. But Carolyn was right. Two plainspoken girls were better than one when it came to Vernon Schmucker.

  Elsie zipped up the coat that she hadn’t bothered to take off when she came into the house, heaved a long sigh, and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “We can make it short. It’s too cold for long explanations.”

  Carolyn opened the door, and they trudged out into the freezing rain. Their shoes would get muddy and their bonnets would be soaked, but Mammi had chosen the footbridge, so the footbridge was where they would go.

  Vernon turned at the sound of her footsteps on the bridge. He wore a straw hat with a scarf underneath tied around his ears. His cheeks were bright red, and rain dripped off the brim of his hat. If it got any colder, he’d have icicles for sure and certain.

  “Hallo, Vernon,” Elsie said. She winced at the tentative edge to her voice. She didn’t want to hurt Vernon’s feelings, but he was not one to take subtle hints. She’d have to be direct.

  Vernon reeled in his line and smiled as if he’d been waiting his entire life for a girl to talk to him. “Hallo, Elsie Stutzman. Hallo, Carolyn. Did you come to watch me fish?”

  Elsie squared her shoulders. It was better to rip a Band-Aid off than to pull it slowly. “Vernon,” she said, this time adding forceful determination to her voice. “My mammi wants you and me to get married, but I do not want to marry you.”

  “Your mammi wants us to get married?”

  Elsie forced a painful smile. “I hope you understand, but I would ask that if my mammi suggests we meet again, you tell her no. My mammi has a gute heart, but I would appreciate it if you quit encouraging her. You and I will never suit, and we will never get married.”

  Vernon’s smile got wider. Maybe he didn’t want to date her as much as she didn’t want to date him. “Your mammi wants us to get married?”

  “And I don’t,” Elsie said through gritted teeth.

  “Do you know how to cook? My mamm makes a pecan pie for me every Monday night.”

  “Vernon,” Carolyn said, “aren’t you listening? Elsie doesn’t want to marry you or date you or cook for you.”

  Elsie nodded. “I just want to be friends.”

  Carolyn shot her a look that could have curdled milk. Elsie immediately understood. She shouldn’t have left the door open for him like that. He was desperate for a wife and just aggravating enough to hope that friendship led to love.

  “I’d like being your friend,” Vernon said, pumping his eyebrows up and down as if she’d just spoken to him in a secret code that only he could understand. Ach, du lieva.

  “What I mean,” Elsie said, using the voice she saved for unruly scholars, “is that I’m not interested and would be very grateful if you forgot the whole thing.”

  “Okay, I guess.” Vernon’s lips drooped in a slightly confused frown. “But I don’t want to go against your mammi.”

  Carolyn came to the rescue. “Maybe you should ask Anna Helmuth to match you with someone else, like Mary Zimmerman. She’s only a few years older than you are.”

  Vernon furrowed his brow. “Is she a gute cook?”

  “I hear she’s very gute,” Carolyn said, nodding so hard that droplets of water flew off her bonnet.

  Vernon glanced at Elsie, the regret evident on his face. “Okay. I suppose I can ask Anna.”

  Carolyn wrapped her fingers around the footbridge railing. “Why don’t you come inside, Vernon? It’s too cold for fishing, and there are pretzels fresh out of the oven.”

  Vernon brightened and shifted his focus squarely on Carolyn. “Did you make them? I know what a gute cook you are.”

  Carolyn practically glared at him. “None of us single girls made the pretzels, so you can just get that idea right out of your head.”

  “I was only asking,” Vernon protested.

  Carolyn kept glaring. “I know what you’re like, Vernon Schmucker.”

  Vernon pulled in his fishing line and removed the wriggling worm from the hook. He bent over and opened the tackle box at his feet. “I usually have good luck with fish on your bridge. But I suppose it’s too early.”

  “I hope there are no hard feelings,” Elsie said, wanting to smooth things over, even though Vernon might take her kindness the wrong way. In spite of everything, she felt sorry for him. It wasn’t Vernon’s fault that Mammi had gotten his hopes up.

  Vernon picked up his tackle box and shook his head. “If you ever change your mind, let me know. I really like pork chops with apricot sauce.” He turned his back on both of them and strolled off the bridge.

  Elsie gave Carolyn a w
ry smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Vernon tromped to the house. He moved faster than Elsie expected and made it to the back door several steps before Elsie and Carolyn. When he disappeared inside, Carolyn draped her wet arm over Elsie’s wet shoulders. “I can’t be sure he won’t bother you again, but we did our best.”

  Elsie giggled. “Jah, we did. I can deal with Vernon. The best part is that Mammi will stop pestering me about it.”

  “Until she finds someone else for you to love,” Carolyn said, giving Elsie a comically hopeless look.

  “Don’t even think about that.”

  They went into the house. Vernon was long gone, but his tackle box and fishing pole sat against the wall. Both girls removed their bonnets and hung them to dry.

  “At least Vernon didn’t put up too much of a fight,” Carolyn said. “I was afraid my lips would freeze to my teeth before we convinced him to come in.”

  “That’s something to be grateful for.”

  Carolyn shrugged off her shawl and glanced out the window. Her eyes widened, and she inhaled a sharp breath. “Oh, sis yuscht.”

  “Is something wrong?” Elsie tried to look out the window, but Carolyn stepped to the side and blocked her view.

  “I left something on the bridge,” Carolyn said, almost as if she was mad about it. She probably was. Who would want to go out in the cold again?

  “What is it? I’ll go fetch it.”

  “I’ll go,” Carolyn said, seemingly quite annoyed and obviously eager that Elsie not feel obligated to go outside with her. She put her hands on Elsie’s shoulders, turned Elsie around, and pointed her in the direction of the kitchen. “You go get a pretzel and talk to my sister. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” Elsie said, taking off her coat. “If you’re sure.”

  “Of course. No reason for the both of us to go.” Carolyn rewrapped her shawl around her shoulders. “Do your best to avoid Vernon. I’m afraid he won’t be put off for very long.”

  Elsie shrugged. “I will, but don’t worry about me. I can be very frightening when I have to be.”

  Carolyn smiled. “I don’t think anyone wants to see that.”