A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  It was hard to talk with the lump in his throat. “You’d do that?”

  “It sounds fun, and it would be a gute lesson for Wally that math isn’t just for school.”

  “Okay,” Sam whispered, unable to trust his voice. “I appreciate it.”

  In her excitement about all that math, she was leaning wonderful close—so close that he could smell the faint scent of lavender and autumn air. It was a gute smell. He breathed deep. And what was it about her eyes? They were lush forests of maple trees in midsummer. He wanted to get lost in those forests and feel the tingle of the brilliant green leaves on his skin. He held his breath. She held perfectly still. Their gazes locked, and he couldn’t look away.

  The barn door slid open, and a gust of icy wind took Sam’s breath away. The noise and the cold severed the connection between them. Elsie pulled away from him, and he stood up, disappointed and a little relieved.

  “And then she just left.”

  Sam felt guilty for the way his chest tightened when Rose marched into the barn with three other girls in tow. He shouldn’t feel put out about seeing her, especially when she had made him cakes and cookies and pies like a mammi at Christmastime. But was it too much to ask for a few more minutes in the forest with Elsie?

  Rose stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Sam, and her face exploded into a smile. The smile withered when she spied Elsie, and she puckered her lips like she’d eaten some moldy bleu cheese.

  “Move, Rose, move,” Sadie Yoder said, nudging Rose farther into the barn so she could shut the door. The girls squeaked and fussed as they wrapped their arms around themselves and tried to get warm.

  “My skin starts to peel off when it gets cold,” Esther Shirk said, stomping her feet and brushing drops of water from her coat with her gloved hand. “Sadie has to take me home first.”

  “Lorene is the closest,” said Sadie, “and your skin does not peel off. Don’t be silly, Esther.”

  Esther and Sadie and Lorene Zook seemed to get their bearings. They quit trying to get warm and took turns staring at Sam and Elsie and then occasionally glancing in Rose’s direction.

  Elsie stood. “It’s warmer in here, but not much. It looks like it’s going to be a wonderful cold winter.”

  Rose’s eyes flicked from Sam to Elsie and back again. He could tell she was trying not to glare at either of them. She finally settled on a small, miserly kind of smile that she bestowed on Sam. “You said you were coming to the gathering.”

  Sam twisted his lips sheepishly. “I only got as far as the barn.”

  “You told me you were going to try to come.”

  “Elsie had an extra pretzel, so I decided I didn’t need to come in.”

  “Carolyn puts too much salt on her pretzels,” Esther said.

  Rose folded her arms and looked at Elsie. “You didn’t have to be so rude to Vernon Schmucker.”

  Elsie frowned. “Ach. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be. Vernon can be a little persistent.”

  Lorene Zook nodded. “We know. He’s tried to date all of us.”

  Rose turned and gave Lorene the stink eye. “That’s no excuse for being rude.” She turned back to Elsie. “You’re new here, so you don’t know that we make allowances for Vernon because he’s had a hard life.”

  Sam almost laughed out loud. Vernon had had a hard life? He lived with his parents, and his mamm did his washing and ironing and cooked him three square meals a day. A van picked him up at his house every weekday for his job at the RV factory. Vernon was harmless, a nice person who could talk your ear off if you liked to discuss fishing or food, but he didn’t know when to leave well enough alone with a girl. If a girl wasn’t interested in him, she had to be direct. It had always been that way. And Rose knew that even better than Sam did. She’d had to fend Vernon off a time or two.

  Sam held out his hands. “Come, Rose. You know how difficult Vernon can be.”

  Rose barely acknowledged him. She was squarely focused on Elsie. “Did it even cross your mind that you should feel sorry for Vernon and try to be nice?”

  “I did try to be nice,” Elsie said. She used the curt tone Sam had often heard her use on Wally, when she was trying to be kind while making sure Wally knew who the teacher was.

  Sam smiled to himself. Elsie would not be bullied. But that didn’t mean he should just stand around and let Rose try. “I’m sure Elsie was as nice as she could be. You have to be firm with Vernon.”

  Elsie glanced his way and gave him a grateful smile. He could have flapped his arms and floated right off the ground.

  “All he talks about is fishing,” Lorene said, earning herself another dirty look from Rose.

  Rose looked down her nose at Elsie. “You told him to go away and leave you alone.”

  Elsie sighed. Sam knew that sound. It was the one she used when she was barely putting up with someone—probably the one she’d used on the school board in Charm—completely unapologetic and utterly unimpressed. “I said please.”

  Lorene nodded. “Dorothy Miller and Suvie Newswenger both had to tell him the same thing last year.” She clamped her mouth shut at the look Rose gave her.

  Rose’s nose was so high in the air, she’d soon be able to catch rainwater in her nostrils. “Sam told me how mean you were to Wally. I didn’t want to believe it until I saw how you treated Vernon.” She turned to Sam as if she thought he were an ally in this. “Isn’t that right, Sam? She was wonderful mean to Wally.”

  Elsie glanced at him, and for the first time since Rose had arrived, he saw real hurt flash in her eyes. Did she think he’d been gossiping about her? “As I’ve told you several times already, Rose, I was wrong about Elsie. Wally was stretching the truth for his own benefit.”

  For some reason, this made Rose even more indignant. “Are you calling your bruder a liar?”

  Sam swallowed his irritation, and maybe a little bit of shame. The truth was the truth. He couldn’t change it. “Jah. My brother lied.”

  Rose raised her eyebrows. He had surprised her. “Ach, vell . . .” She trailed off into oblivion. It was hard to defend Wally when even his own bruder wouldn’t.

  Esther wasn’t known for her tact. “I don’t know why you’re so mad. If you like Vernon so much, go on a date with him.”

  Rose shuddered. “Ach. He’s almost forty. I would never.”

  “Me either,” Lorene said.

  Sadie giggled. “I think she was very smart how Vernon handed her those pretzels, and she took them and walked right out the front door.”

  Esther glared at no one in particular. “Vernon almost proposed to me three times.”

  Sadie laughed. “He did not.”

  Esther grunted in Sadie’s direction. “Well, I don’t like him, and I don’t blame Elsie for not liking him.”

  Rose glanced at Sam and pursed her lips. “I suppose I don’t blame Elsie either.”

  At least they were all in agreement about that.

  Esther stared at Elsie. “A boy and a girl shouldn’t be alone in a barn together. Too many bad things can happen. That’s what my mamm always says.”

  “We just ducked in here to get our horses,” Sam said, feeling his face get warm despite the cold. Only a few minutes ago, he’d been gazing into Elsie Stutzman’s shocking green eyes. Esther probably didn’t need to know that.

  Esther was almost as persistent as Vernon Schmucker, in her own way. “You said you were eating pretzels.”

  Elsie brushed some imaginary pretzel crumbs off her hands. “We had to eat the pretzels to free our hands for the horses.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her bonnet and some gloves. “Are you ready, Sam? We should get going before the roads get bad.”

  Sam let Elsie go first, then he tried to ignore the look Rose gave him as he led Rowdy from the stall. What was wrong with Rose? He’d already explained to her that he’d been wrong about Elsie. There was no reason for Rose to dislike her on his account.

  Unless there was.

  Oy, anyhow. It hi
t him like a load of bricks.

  He was an idiot.

  A girl didn’t bake eight cakes in one month for a friend.

  Jah. He was an idiot.

  He and Elsie led their horses out of the barn. He sensed someone close to him and turned to see Rose just a pace or two behind. She seemed considerably more cheerful than she had a minute ago. “I told Sadie that you could take me home since we live just next door.”

  He inclined his head in agreement but didn’t say anything. An idiot like him should speak as little as possible.

  He stopped at his buggy and handed Rose the reins to his horse. “I need to help Elsie hitch up her horse. I’ll be right back.”

  Rose opened her mouth, as if she wanted to protest, but she closed it again and nodded indulgently. She had finagled a ride home with him. She probably wasn’t too concerned if he helped Elsie hitch up her horse.

  Sam jogged through the rain, heavier and colder now, until he caught up with Elsie. He reached out his hand, and she smiled and let him take the reins. “Might as well get in,” he said, motioning to her buggy. No sense for two of them to get rained on.

  Her smile widened, and she climbed into her buggy and closed the door. He hitched up her horse in mere minutes, but he couldn’t let Elsie go until he apologized for Rose’s behavior. He knocked on her window, and she slid it open just a crack. “Denki,” she said. “That was wonderful nice of you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and then his tongue tied itself into a very complicated knot.

  How could he explain Rose to Elsie?

  I’m sorry Rose was rude. I just now realized that she has a crush on me. Jah, I am an idiot. She’s just a little jealous, but all will be put to rights after I make her understand I’m not interested.

  The knot in his tongue pulled tighter. Rose was jealous of Elsie. Had he given her reason to be?

  He thought of the way his heart sort of melted into a puddle like a chocolate ice cream cone on the hot pavement whenever Elsie smiled at him. Or the way he couldn’t concentrate on his chores when he knew Elsie was coming over to tutor Wally. Had Rose noticed?

  Surely she hadn’t noticed anything of the sort. Sam’s reaction to Elsie was nothing—just the nervousness he felt being around the teacher. She was the smart, take-charge sort, and naturally, he wanted to impress her for his bruder’s sake.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry about Rose,” he said, reminding himself that her green eyes had no special power over him.

  “You don’t have to apologize, Sam.”

  “It’s my fault she has a bad impression of you.”

  Elsie wiped away a trickle of water threatening to drip into her window. “I understand what Rose is feeling. Did you know she wanted the teaching job?”

  Sam widened his eyes. “She did?” Rose could no more be a teacher than Sam could be a soldier.

  Elsie’s smile faded, and she turned her face away and gazed out the windshield. “I spend so much time at your house. Any girlfriend would get jealous.”

  Any girlfriend? Oh, sis yuscht. Anna Helmuth had told him he needed to break up with Rose. He had thought she was joking—or delusional. But in truth, if a sweet little fraa like Anna thought Rose was his girlfriend, how many others believed the same thing?

  Elsie did.

  Sam had dug himself a deep hole without even realizing it. Or, more appropriate, he was like that frog in the story who doesn’t notice that the water in the pan is getting hotter and hotter until it’s too late and he’s been boiled to death.

  Even though it was wet, he leaned his arm on the buggy and immediately soaked the sleeve of his coat. “Look, Elsie. It’s not like that.”

  She leaned closer to the window and opened it a few inches more. “What . . . what’s not like that?” Curiosity and some other emotion he couldn’t name traveled across her features, and for a fraction of a second, she seemed to hold her breath.

  “Rose and I are just friends,” he said, keeping his voice low just in case someone overheard him.

  “You . . . you are?” Elsie said. Doubt played at the edges of her mouth.

  Sam caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Rose trudging his way. She looked to be having a tug of war with the storm, her arms wrapped firmly around themselves, her bonnet flapping in the wind. She blinked the rain from her eyes but didn’t lower her head, as if determined not to lose sight of him, even if she had to fight the forces of nature to do it.

  Looking rather pleased with herself, she glanced at Elsie through the window. “I hitched up your horse, Sam,” she said over the howl of the wind.

  Sam forced a smile. “Denki. That was very kind.”

  “I’m not helpless like some girls.”

  Sam cringed. Had Rose always been so resentful? He made a mental note to apologize to Elsie for that too.

  He glanced at Elsie, an unspoken apology in his eyes. She returned his gaze with a confused one of her own and picked up her reins. Had she not understood him? “Wait, Elsie,” he said, suddenly struck with a wonderful-gute idea. It would be faster and easier to tell both of them at the same time that he and Rose were not dating. Surely Rose would appreciate his honesty.

  He opened his mouth and just as quickly clamped it shut when he looked at Rose. He didn’t know how she managed it, but her expression was a mixture of pure adoration and raw anger. The adoration was probably for him and the anger for Elsie, but it was just as likely the adoration and the anger were both for him. Sam was pretty thick sometimes, but it only took him about two seconds to see that it would probably be best to break up with Rose in private—not that he was breaking up with her. They had never been together. Surely Rose could see that.

  Elsie nodded as if she understood—though he couldn’t be sure exactly what it was she understood. She snapped the reins, and her horse took off. Sam stepped back before his foot got run over. It just hadn’t been his day. Carolyn had lectured him but good for something that wasn’t even his fault, Elsie had gotten her feelings hurt, and Rose Mast was in love with him. He was standing in the freezing rain with water filling his boots and Rose glaring after Elsie as if Elsie had pulled out a cigarette and started smoking it. Could things get any worse?

  Rose brightened like a firefly when Elsie’s buggy rolled out of sight. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to ask to drive me home. Mamm and Dat are going to be so happy.”

  * * *

  Sam didn’t say a word until they were halfway home, partly because Rose started chattering away the minute she got into his buggy but mostly because he was working out in his head what he wanted to say. He’d never had trouble being direct and plainspoken before. Elsie could attest to that. But he also tended to be too blunt and ended up hurting people’s feelings, as Elsie could also attest.

  He was too irritated to just blurt out what he wanted to say, so he spent the first fifteen minutes of the drive pretending to listen to Rose while trying to calm down enough to write a speech.

  He had a feeling Rose, you are wonderful nice, but irritating beyond belief would not go over well. Rose’s fater would probably come over and give Sam a stern talking-to if Sam treated his daughter that way.

  “Sadie gave me her mom’s recipe for apricot-cherry pie. I’m going to try it as soon as the apricots are on next spring. Do you like apricots, Sam?”

  He cleared his throat. He needed to get this over with before they got home, but without being too harsh. Oy, anyhow, he would mess things up for sure and certain. “Rose, do you like me?” It was the best way to start. If he thought she liked him when she didn’t, he wouldn’t need to have this conversation at all.

  She tilted her head to one side and smiled demurely, as if a modest Amish girl shouldn’t talk about such things. “Jah, Sam. I like you. I’m almost twenty, you know.”

  He swallowed hard. Jah. He knew. It was all she’d been talking about for weeks. Her excitement should have been his first clue that she had her eye on him. He was so dense wh
en it came to girls. “Rose, you know I appreciate all the cakes and pies you’ve been bringing over.”

  That shy smile again. It made his teeth ache. “And don’t forget the divinity. I made seven batches before I got it just right. I always try to give you the best of everything.”

  “And the divinity.” He nodded, hoping she didn’t ask him if he knew what divinity was. “You have always been a gute friend, Rose. You and Mark and Mos. We had a lot of fun playing when we were children.”

  “We did,” she said, lowering her eyes and clasping her hands together.

  Ach, du lieva. She was either going to burst into tears or throw something at him, but it had to be done. Either that or he’d get fat from all her desserts and never have a private moment with Elsie Stutzman again.

  “Rose, even though I’m driving you home tonight, you need to know that I am not interested in dating you.”

  Her timid smile froze in place. “I don’t understand.”

  “You need to forget me and find another boy. I’m too old.”

  Rose scrunched her lips into a pout. “You’re not too old. I’ll be twenty in a few months. My onkel is ten years older than my aendi Beth.”

  Sam grimaced. He shouldn’t have said “too old.” It was a reason she could argue with. “You’re right. Age doesn’t really matter.”

  Rose sniffed the air. “Nae, it doesn’t.”

  “The truth is . . .” He cleared his throat again and shifted in his seat. “The truth is that I don’t want to date you. I like you as a friend, but nothing else. I don’t want to be your boyfriend.”

  She was silent for a full minute, and the rain slapping against the buggy became deafening. She had turned her face away, so he couldn’t see her expression to know if she was getting ready to cry or yell at him. He hoped she didn’t cry, though he deserved whatever reaction he got. Through his stupidity, he had led her to believe he was interested. No girl was going to take that cheerfully.

  “It’s because of the teacher, isn’t it?”