by Beth Wiseman
Eli guided Sadie to a table in the back of the restaurant portion of the West Kootenai Kraft and Grocery. The eyes of the other Amish women bored into her. They were hardly discreet. Sadie sat and smoothed the skirt of her cape dress, wishing there was another place to spend time with Eli—to get to know him better—but their only choices were her aunt and uncle’s living room under the gaze of the kids, or here in the restaurant, the one public gathering place in the community. At least here everyone only stared and didn’t try to interrupt their conversation.
They sat facing each other, and instead of looking into his eyes, she traced the wood grain pattern on the log table with her finger.
“I came in for lunch, and Annie and Jenny were making up some strawberry pies. I wonder if anyone would mind if I ate dessert first.”
She laughed. “Or only ate dessert. Strawberry pie sounds good. They couldn’t have picked their own strawberries, could they?”
“Maybe if they started them in a greenhouse . . .”
“Ja, I suppose that’s possible.” Sadie smiled. “You should see my tomato plants. They’re taller than they would be in Indiana, I suppose.”
“So you’re adjusting to life here then?”
The question didn’t surprise Sadie. She’d seen the tender look in his eyes lately. She’d seen his concern.
“I am. It’s taken some getting used to . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced up, staring into his eyes. “Sometimes I think it’s all a dream, you know? I picture getting on the train and making my way back home. I picture Dat in the barn and Mem at the stove—in our old house, of course. Mem would always wave me in when I walked in the door, as if welcoming me, telling me to come closer, and urging me not to let in any flies.” She chuckled. “If there was one thing that drove Mem crazy, it was a fly in her house.”
Eli leaned back, inhaling slowly. He seemed fixed on her every word. “I can’t even imagine, Sadie. I have my parents and both grandparents on Dat and Mem’s sides. I’ve never lost anyone close. I can’t really imagine,” he repeated.
“It’s God’s will, I suppose.” She said the words without conviction.
“Ja, we can accept it, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t grieve. I’ve had a talkin’-to with God over far less things.”
She smiled unexpectedly at his words, and she tried to imagine that. Eli seemed so levelheaded.
“Oh, you did, did ya? And did you write about that, too, in The Budget?” Sadie cleared her throat, and then she attempted to talk in a deeper voice. “I got mighty angry at God today. I picked up a few smooth stones and chucked them at majestic, tall pine trees as I spouted angry words.”
Eli’s smile faded at her words. “Does it bother you, Sadie, that I share my life with the world? I know it bothers your sister.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She paused for a minute and then shook her head. “Ne. I mean, I don’t think so. I hope it doesn’t hurt your feelings, but I’ve never been one to read The Budget. That was something that Dat—” Her words caught in her throat. “That was something that Dat did.”
He reached across the table, as if to pat her hand, but she pulled it away. She needed to know if Eli was serious, truly serious, before she allowed any display of public affection.
Eli nodded and pulled his hand back. “I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t sure if he was sorry about how memories of her parents stirred up emotion yet again, or that he’d tried to hold her hand in public. Sadie just shrugged and then picked up the menu as if it was the most fascinating reading material she’d ever come upon.
“I’m not sure what you think about the time we’ve been spending together, Sadie. I’d like to hope that you consider me a close friend, maybe more. But I did want to mention again that my grandfather is coming to the area. Opa has always wanted to see Montana, and my being here is a gut excuse.”
“That’s wonderful.” She clasped her hands on her lap and smiled, truly excited for him.
“Ja, I’m eager to see him. Many folks tell me we’re like two peas in a pod. But I just wanted to warn you before he arrived.”
“Warn me?”
“Vell, I’ve told him about you, Sadie. He likes to garden and . . .”
She could tell from the way his eyes darted to his water glass, then back to her, that wasn’t all he wanted to say.
“And . . .”
“And what?”
“And I told him that my feelings for you were starting to grow.”
She blinked her eyes several times before she answered. “It’s gut to know that,” she said softly. “For a while I wondered if—”
“Ready to order?” the waitress interrupted.
They both ordered slices of strawberry pie and coffee. Sadie couldn’t think of ordering anything more than that—not with the butterflies dancing around in her stomach. Then she saw it, the love in his eyes that Aunt Linda talked about. Suddenly fear pounded in her heart. Was she really ready for this conversation? Was she ready to open her heart?
Their pie and coffee arrived a few moments later, but instead of picking up his fork to take a bite, Eli turned his gaze to her again. “Now as I was saying—”
“You were saying that your grandfather is quite a gardener,” she hurried to say. “I’m so thankful that he was able to help me with my tomato plants. Have you told him how much they’ve grown?”
Eli scowled. He leaned forward and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Sadie, you know that before we were interrupted, my mind wasn’t on tomato plants.”
She pressed her lips together into a thin line. Of course she knew that, but how could she tell him that the thing that scared her most was getting her hopes up? She couldn’t risk a broken heart.
“Will your grandfather be here long?” she asked, shaking off thoughts of what would really happen if she allowed herself to get caught up in dreaming of a life with Eli.
He sighed. “A week or so. Long enough to get to see a lot of the sights. Long enough to get to know you a little. More than anyone else, I respect my grandfather’s opinion.”
Opinion about what? she wanted to ask. About whether I’m worth risking your heart over? But she didn’t ask, and she could tell from his face that he was frustrated at trying to take the conversation to a deeper level, only to have her draw it back to gardening.
In her own mind, Sadie truly wondered if she was worth the risk. Was there even a large enough piece of her heart left to give to Eli?
Eli acted as if he had more to say, but instead he dug into his pie with gusto.
“I suppose all I wanted to tell you is that I hope you don’t mind if my grandpa asks you a few questions. He wants to know your heart, Sadie. He most likely wants to know if you’re right . . . for me.”
“Right for you?”
“As in marriage. Don’t you understand that’s what I’ve been trying to say?”
“Marriage?” The word played on her lips.
Eli leaned forward and took her hand, obviously not caring what anyone thought. “Yes, Sadie, and you don’t have to answer me now, but look into my eyes. Know my heart. I don’t want to go anywhere unless I have you by my side.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The day had turned to dusk as Sadie sat on the swing waiting for Eli. Her heart brimmed with joy. Eli cared for her—he really did. He cared so much that he asked his grandfather to come all this way to meet her, or at least that’s what he finally confessed.
Even though it was only eight o’clock, the rest of her family had gone to bed. Most nights, her aunt, uncle, and cousins were in bed before sunset, especially since her uncle woke them at 4:00 a.m., summer or not.
She brushed her shoes on the porch as she swung. He’d told her he’d come, and she had no reason to question why he wouldn’t. Eli always kept his word. That was one thing she cared about most—loved most—about him. Sadie smiled. Ja, it was turning into love all right. And soon maybe marriage.
Up ahead, two figure
s crested the small rise. They were about the same height, but the one on the right of the road walked with a lightness to his step. The older man walked with more of a shuffle, yet Eli’s opa seemed to be in good shape for someone his age.
She walked to the gate and waved, then waited for them to get closer.
“Sadie, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She could hear the joy in his voice. “Opa told me he’d chatted with your mother many times, and she was a wonderful gardener.”
They entered the gate.
“I think she was envied by everyone in LaGrange county . . . not that the Amish envy.” The older man stretched out his hand and shook Sadie’s. “It’s an honor, dear.” It wasn’t the usual way the Amish did things, and it reminded Sadie of when she and Eli first met.
“You can call me Opa,” he said. “It seems only right, don’t you think?”
Heat rose to her cheeks. She’d be a welcome member of the family if that’s what Eli chose. She released his hand and motioned to the house.
“Come inside. I’d love to hear more,” she offered. “It’s always a joy to talk to someone who knew my parents. I’ve told Eli about Mem’s garden, and it’s wonderful to know you thought highly of it too.”
She led them to the house and opened the door wide. “I have coffee made and cookies, or if you’d rather have milk, I—” She turned, and her words lodged in her throat. There were two things she noticed immediately about Eli’s grandfather once he came inside. First was how similar the two men looked, with green eyes and chiseled features. Of course, Eli’s grandfather wore a beard, as did all Amish men. But the second was that he was wearing Englisch clothes.
Her smile faded, and Opa’s eyes widened. He looked down at his jeans and western shirt and then turned to Eli. “You did tell Sadie that I wasn’t Amish anymore, didn’t you?”
Eli looked to Sadie and cocked his head. “I believe so. Didn’t I? Surely I must have. I’ve talked about you, Opa, so much, with so many people in the area, well, I did mention that, didn’t I, Sadie?”
“No.” The word fell flat from her lips. “That’s something you forgot to mention.” She tried to act nonchalant as she placed the cream and sugar on the table and then got three coffee mugs from the cupboard. Her hand was shaking slightly as she set the mugs before them, but she tried to pay it no mind. She hoped Opa didn’t notice. He gazed up at her, and she smiled. What else could she do?
Sadie stood tall, posture straight, as if her whole worth in his eyes would be summed up in how well she held herself.
“You probably want to know why I have Amish family but I’m no longer Amish,” Opa said. “Both my wife and I were raised Amish, and we lived that way for many years. Then there were circumstances . . . people came into our lives who loved God. Who were more concerned about the character of one’s heart than one’s kapp or beard. The more time we spent with them, the more we began to see that God didn’t require us to follow our Plain ways so strictly. We’re still a simple people, and I run a simple business. It’s not as if we turned our back on the Amish.”
Sadie nodded, but she didn’t know what to say. She wished she could slow her pounding heart. Wished her mind wasn’t so muddled.
What do I do now? What would my brothers and sisters say? It wouldn’t be good. Not at all. Sadie bit her lip and stood there silently.
Eli looked at her with a curious expression. He took a sip of his coffee, peering at her over the rim of his coffee cup. He could tell something was wrong. She could see it in his eyes. But what could she offer? Sadie couldn’t even sift through her own feelings.
Was she mad at Eli for not making it clear that his grandfather wasn’t Amish? Yes. Did she now question her feelings for Eli? She had to admit she did. For as long as she remembered, she’d only imagined herself marrying a gut Amish man from a gut Amish family. She hadn’t ever considered the alternative. She wouldn’t even want to imagine what her mem and dat would say if they were still alive. And the fact that they weren’t and she couldn’t go to them for advice made her even more flustered.
She sat down at the table across from Eli and Opa.
It doesn’t matter that he’s not Amish, Sadie told herself. People left the Amish for various reasons. As long as Eli had a strong faith and commitment to the Amish, that was all that mattered, right?
“Sadie, Eli told me that some of your tomatoes got blossom-end rot, is that right?” Opa asked.
She was thankful he changed the subject. Her tomatoes were something she could easily talk about—and it gave her time to think.
“Ja, I had never seen that before. Thank you for telling Eli what I needed to do about it.”
Opa took a bite from his cookie and nodded. “I’m glad I could help, and if you’re interested, I’d be happy to stop by tomorrow and look at the rest of the garden to see if there are any other problems. It’s always a challenge when you start gardening in a new place.”
She poured herself some coffee but didn’t drink it. “Ja. I mean, ne. I mean, no, I don’t mind.”
“Have you ever considered selling your seeds, Sadie? From what I hear, they are a very special heirloom variety. Seeds like that need to be saved up, treasured, and doing so is one of my hobbies.”
Sadie’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “My mem refused anytime someone tried to buy seeds from her. Sometimes she would give them to neighbors. There have been Englischers who’ve approached her. Some were very insistent, but to us, these seeds are our heritage.” She thought again of the man from Pioneer Creek Seeds. Sadie remembered her mother’s words.
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t sell the seeds,” she said. “These tomatoes are special. They’re all I have of my family.”
He nodded and then smiled. “I wonder why I even asked. I understand, Sadie. I’ve heard those same words before. Your mem told me the same thing many times.” He chuckled. “It’s almost like hearing her words come through your mouth.”
“You asked my mem about selling her seeds?” Sadie’s throat clenched down. Her stomach ratcheted up. She was certain she was going to be sick.
“Excuse me?” She leaned forward, studying the man’s face. “What did you say your name is?”
“Paul, Paul Hostetler. I’m sure I met you once back in Indiana when I was visiting your mem. You were just a little thing then, but maybe you have heard about our business, Pioneer Creek Farms?”
“You.” Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked from Paul to Eli and then back to Paul again. “Is this what it’s all been about, Eli? Is that what everything’s been about? My tomatoes? My seeds?”
Eli leaned over to take her hand, but Sadie pulled it away.
He stood and walked over to her, but she rose and moved toward the cupboard, putting space between them. “Don’t think you can sweet-talk me.” Her lips trembled as she spoke. “Either of you . . . I can’t believe you’ve come all this way. I can’t believe you’ve given me so much attention for . . . my seeds. They must be valuable indeed.”
Suddenly the realization of what she was saying must have hit Eli because his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Sadie, are you saying what I think you’re saying? That I’ve been spending all this time with you so I can warm you up to buy your seeds?”
“Isn’t that true?” She jutted out her chin. “Your grandfather tried to persuade my mother, but she didn’t fall for it. But me?” Sadie placed her hands over her face, and then she shook her head. “I’m such a fool, and you knew it when you approached me, didn’t you? You knew how to help. You knew what to say . . . how to care.” Sadie’s voice rose. She lowered her hands and gazed at Paul. “No wonder you were so eager to help me with the blossom-end rot. You didn’t want to lose what your eye was focused on.”
“Sadie, listen to yourself. My grandfather . . . he had no intention of trying to trick you.” Eli ran his hand through his hair and then turned to his grandfather. “Won’t you tell her? I don’t care about seeds. Tell her that this is not what it’s all a
bout.”
Instead of trying to urge her, Opa only sighed. “Eli, I’m afraid that if I say anything it’s only going to make things worse. It’s clear that Sadie here has heard plenty about me. Anything I’d say would be taken with a grain of salt.” Sadness filled the man’s face. “I think I remember how to get back to your cabin. If you’d like to stay and talk to . . . your friend . . . I can find my way back.”
“No.” Eli stepped away and shook his head. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say. Sadie has already made her decision. She’s already judged us before she’s heard a word.” Eli looked at her, and then he shook his head. “Good night, Sadie. I’m sorry—I’m sorry you feel the way you do.” He then turned and motioned for his grandfather to follow him to the door. And then without a word, they slipped into the night.
Sadie watched them go, and anger surged through her. Anger at them and anger at herself. She’d fallen for it—fallen for him, and to what reward? Only to have her heart broken again.
Sadie rushed forward, locked the front door, and then dimmed the lantern light. She needed time to think. She needed time to pray, and deep down the only thing that brought her joy was that tomorrow she’d be able to pick the first harvest from the garden—and save those first seeds—and prove she wasn’t a complete failure after all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sadie hadn’t slept a wink. She’d tossed and turned all night, considering everything that had happened the night before—her words, Eli’s words, Opa’s words. Had she jumped to conclusions? What if Eli had been telling the truth? What if he hadn’t made the connection? And . . . what if his opa had been more concerned about his grandson than the seeds? If that was the case, she’d just ruined everything in one fell swoop.
As soon as the morning light came, Sadie headed outside to pick her tomatoes. Suddenly nothing mattered as much to her as picking the first ones, heading inside, and following the step-by-step instructions in her mother’s garden journal on how to save the seeds.
