by Lyn Cote
“Samuel has a burden, for sure.” Aunt Sadie turned to Ida Mae. “Don’t be too quick to dismiss him, though. There’s more to him than he shows us.”
“Judith and Esther are nice girls, didn’t you think so, Mary? Judith is going to bring a knitting pattern over this evening. She is so friendly.”
“Ja, they both are. Is it only the three of them in their family, Aunt Sadie?”
“Their parents have passed on.” The older woman’s expression softened as she looked back over the years. “There were six children. A nice family, it seemed, until…” She glanced at Mary and Ida Mae. “I don’t want to gossip. They were a nice family. Bram is the oldest. He left the community during his rumspringa, but his mother never gave up hope. Even on her deathbed she had faith that Bram would come back home.”
“Did he?” Ida Mae watched their aunt’s face, interested in the story.
“Ja, he did. Not until after she had passed on, but he did come back. He married a widow from Eden Township and lives down there with their children. A good Amishman, even after all his troubles.”
Ida Mae leaned closer. “What about the rest of the family?”
“Samuel inherited the farm when their father died a couple years ago. The oldest girl…her name…I can’t remember it. Maybe Katie? Anyway, she married a man from Berlin, Ohio. We haven’t seen her since then. The next girl is Annie. She married a Beachey from Eden Township, the oldest son of their deacon. I go to quilting with her every other Thursday, and she has a sweet little boy.”
Sadie’s voice trailed off, smiling as she watched the roadside pass by.
“And the rest?”
“You’ve met them. Esther and Judith. They keep house for Samuel and have since Annie got married.” She brushed at some dust on her apron. “I’ve tried to help those girls once they were on their own after their older sisters left home. I don’t know how much they remember about their mother, but they were quite young when she died.”
“What kind of help?” Ida Mae asked.
“We made soap together last winter, but I’ve also been longing to help them with their sewing. You’ve seen how worn their clothes are. They haven’t made new ones for a couple years, and I don’t think Katie or Annie taught them to sew. If we had fabric, we could have a sewing frolic, just the five of us.”
Mary glanced at the smile on Sadie’s face. “I think you would have a thing or two to teach us, too. We should invite them over.”
“If they have time. They keep themselves at home most days. Our Wednesday quiltings are about the only time they get to be social with the rest of the women of the district.”
“Maybe if we tell Samuel that we’ll make new shirts and trousers for him, he’ll like the idea.”
“Ja, for sure.” Aunt Sadie’s chin rose and fell. “I’ll talk to Samuel when he comes over tomorrow and make sure he encourages them to come.”
Mary’s stomach gave a little flutter at the thought of seeing Samuel again so soon. That flutter was very different than the clenching feeling she got when she thought of men like Harvey Anderson. She pushed it down anyway and cleared her throat.
“Why is Samuel coming over tomorrow?”
“He does my heavy chores for me.” Sadie turned to her. “Didn’t I tell you? He comes by to clean the chicken coop and cut the grass, and whatever else might need doing. He comes every Monday.”
“Then Judith and Esther should come with him whenever he comes. We could have a sewing time every week,” Ida Mae said. She was clearly excited about the idea.
They rode in silence for a while, and Mary watched the way ahead through Chester’s upright ears. Now that she and Ida Mae were here, Samuel wouldn’t need to bother doing Sadie’s chores for her. She and her sister were more than capable of taking care of things without a man around.
As they passed the lane to the Lapps’ farm, Mary glanced toward the house and barn. The odor of a pigsty drifted through the air.
Aunt Sadie had spoken of the Lapps as if they were a normal Amish family, but Samuel wasn’t a normal Amishman. He had been pleasant enough at church, but some of the folks had spoken of him as if there was something very wrong.
“Why don’t some of the men like Samuel? The women seemed to like Judith and Esther.”
“Sometimes Samuel is too much like his father.” Sadie’s voice was so soft that Mary barely caught her words. “He is a troubled man. He learned some bad habits from Ira, but there is hope for him.”
Less than a half mile down the road from the Lapps’ farm, Chester turned into the drive of Aunt Sadie’s place without any signal from Mary. Mary pulled up at the narrow walk for Ida Mae and their aunt to go into the house, and then she drove the buggy the short distance to the small barn. As she unhitched the buggy and took care of Chester, her thoughts went back to the Lapp family.
It wasn’t unusual for sisters to keep house for their brother after their mother passed on, but both Judith and Esther were pale and worn, like they worked too hard. Mary smiled to herself as she brushed Chester’s coat. Here she was, judging people before she got to know them again. The sisters seemed like nice girls. And since they were Aunt Sadie’s closest neighbors, they would be able to spend much time together.
Their brother, though…
Mary turned Chester out into his pasture and hung up the harness.
Samuel was a strange one. Mary had never met anyone quite like him. And what had Aunt Sadie meant when she said he was a troubled man?
Underneath the grouchy stares and gravelly voice, he was quite good-looking. And when she had apologized to him, he had been friendly. Even intriguing. And Aunt Sadie seemed to be very fond of him. He might be a puzzle worth figuring out.
Mary stopped her thoughts before they went any further. She wouldn’t be the one to figure out the puzzle that was Samuel Lapp, so she should just forget about him. Forget about all men.
But she couldn’t forget. It was too late. Her thoughts went on without her, down into that dark hole. Her skin crawled as if she could feel Harvey’s sweaty palms through her dress, pressing close, and closer. She shuddered, willing the memory to disappear, but Harvey’s hands groped and pulled. His breath smelled of stale tobacco and beer as he pushed his kisses on her.
Mary forced her eyes open, trembling all over. She concentrated her thoughts, trying to remember where she was—in Sadie’s barn, hanging the buggy harness on its hooks.
Stroking the smooth leather of the harness, she focused on the buckle, the straps, the headpiece still damp from Chester’s sweat. She kept her breathing even and controlled as she counted the tiny pinpoints of the stitching where the straps were fastened together until she reached one hundred.
Mary took a deep shaking breath. The memory had retreated to the back of her mind. She leaned her head against the warm wood of the barn wall. Someday those memories would stay buried. As long as she avoided men, she could forget the past.
But Samuel would be at the farm tomorrow, and she would see him again on other days. Mary pushed at the shadows that threatened at the edge of her mind. A brother. The shadow retreated. She would treat Samuel the same as she treated her brothers. He wasn’t Harvey Anderson.
Copyright © 2017 by Jan Drexler
ISBN-13: 9781488017773
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Copyright © 2017 by Lyn Cote
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