An Amish Reward

by J. E. B. Spredemann

  Perhaps she’d done something against the Ordnung that she’d been unaware of? Nee, then he surely would have sent Reuben Coblentz, the deacon. Ach, what could it be?

  “Rebekah, come,” her father prompted once again.

  “Did…did he say what he wanted?”

  “Nee. Now come. The bishop is a busy man. We do not want to keep him waiting.”

  “I’m coming, Dat.” She reluctantly left her dishwashing and followed her father into the main room of their home.

  Leroy smiled his greeting and nodded slightly. “Rebekah.”

  “Hello, Leroy.” Her hands grasped her apron and began twisting it. “You…you wanted to see me?”

  “I did.”

  “Would you like a snack? Some coffee?” Yes, she was stalling. Because she was certain this visit couldn’t be a positive one.

  “Have a seat, Rebekah.” The bishop gestured to the chair opposite him.

  Becky frowned and shot a questioning look at her father.

  He shrugged.

  Becky sighed and resignedly sat down.

  “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.” His smile set her mind at ease. A smidgen. “I’ll get straight to the point.”

  She nodded. Gott, please.

  “We had a new family move into the area. The Swartzentrubers. Have you met them?”

  “Nee, I have not.”

  “They were at the last meeting.”

  Ach, she’d heard about it but hadn’t paid much attention. Like usual, she’d kept herself busy in the kitchen and serving until she could return home. No need to endure the pitiful glances and awkward conversation.

  Not that she even minded being single. It seemed like others cared more about her being an alt maedel than she did. Surely it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She was still relatively young. She was healthy. Jah, she had plenty to be thankful for.

  She figured that if it was His will that she marry, Der Herr would send along the right one at the right time. And she’d have complete peace about it.

  “He’s a widower with two young kinner.”

  Oh, no. She held her breath.

  “He works long hours and needs someone to care for the children. I said I’d ask you.”

  Oh, good. So this wasn’t a marriage proposal. But still, he’d said widower… Of course, just because he was a widower didn’t mean he was on the hunt for a fraa, did it?

  “A babysitter?”

  “Well, like I said, he works long hours. Sometimes well into the night. He likely needs someone who would be able to stay at the home.”

  Sounds like he needs a fraa… she would not voice that thought aloud. “What does this job pay?”

  She hadn’t meant to sound greedy, but to make it clear that this was indeed a job and not something else.

  “That would need to be discussed between you and Mervyn.”

  “What type of man is he?” The last thing she wanted was to be employed by an ill-tempered man.

  “Hard working.”

  Jah, she’d figured that much. “When would he need me to start?”

  “Immediately.”

  “And how many hours will I be needed?” Would she have time to make her soaps yet? “I have many chores around here. I’d hate to leave them for Mamm and Daed.”

  “Ach, you don’t need to mind us, Rebekah. We can get along without you, if need be. Besides, we could use a little extra income.” Her father noted.

  He was right, of course. They never did seem to have an overabundance of anything, when it came to material possessions. That was one of the reasons she’d been so eager to make her soaps and sell them to the Englisch stores. She did admit, to herself at least, that she wouldn’t mind being able to use some the excess cash on frivolities every now and then. But her family needed her and it was a sacrifice she was willing to make for her folks, a labor of love.

  “He works six days a week,” Leroy answered.

  Ach, then the only time she’d have off was Sundays. She nodded. “Okay, I will do it.”

  “Very well, then. I’ll let Mervyn know.” The bishop nodded. “He will likely want you to start tomorrow.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Gut. He begins work at eight, but his driver shows up around seven. He will need you to be there around six so you can fix him and the kinner breakfast and send him off with a lunch.”

  Jah, she supposed he would need those things if he had no fraa. Probably supper as well. “I will be there by six, then.”

  THREE

  Morning arrived early enough. Rebekah looked forward to the challenges this day would bring forth, yet at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. After all, she was a single young woman under the employ of a widower. She was pretty certain how the community would react to her circumstances.

  Not that she really cared what others thought. If Der Herr wanted her to marry, He would make it clear. And no amount of opinions from the g’may were going to change her mind. Was it anybody else’s business, anyway? Nee, it was not.

  “Are you ready to go, Rebekah?” Her father entered the kitchen through the back mudroom. “The buggy’s all hitched up.”

  “Thanks, Dat. Jah, I’m ready.” She carried her handbag out to the carriage, along with the loaf of bread Mamm had shoved into her hands at the last minute. She’d insisted since, in the words of her mother, ‘there was no telling when the last time those kinner had a proper loaf of home-baked bread.’ She supposed Mamm was probably correct.

  Daed eyed the loaf.

  “Mamm insisted,” Becky clarified, answering his unspoken question. She pulled herself up into the buggy as her father took the reins.

  He chuckled. “I’m surprised she didn’t send you with ingredients to make more.”

  “That might be tomorrow. She wanted me to check their cupboards and pantry first.” Becky smiled.

  “That’s your Mamm, always thinking of others. I reckon you’re a lot like her.” He maneuvered the buggy out onto the road.

  “I consider that a compliment.”

  He nodded. “I meant it as one.”

  Fortunately, it was early enough to beat the morning work traffic. She guessed Brother Swartzentruber would be caught up in that a little later after his driver picked him up.

  Becky thought on the man she was about to meet. There was no telling what type of person he might be. Even so, it seemed most Amish men were pretty stable. At least, that had been her experience with her father and bruder.

  Ach, thinking about her brother now, she wondered how he was doing. He’d left last year to join a couple of friends who had moved up to Montana to go hunting. He only planned on staying for the summer, but he was having such a gut time, he didn’t want to return home. He said they had a wunderbaar g’may up there and that he was learning a lot about Der Herr.

  The way he’d spoken about it all, kind of made Becky envious. What would it be like up where the air was fresh and clear? Where they were surrounded by forests of beautiful trees? Where wild animals roamed about? She admitted that the last part did seem a bit frightening.

  Perhaps, if she found herself with extra time in the near future, she’d sit down and write her brother a letter.

  ~

  “Well, it looks like we found the place.” Her father glanced her way. “You ready?”

  “I guess I have to be, ain’t so?”

  “I will go in with you to meet this man. After all, I need to know what time you’ll need to be picked up.” He smiled and briefly squeezed her hand.

  “Denki, Dat.” Just her father’s presence would make her feel less nervous.

  The bishop had said that Mervyn only had two small kinner, so caring for them shouldn’t be much of a chore. Most Amish kinner she knew were well behaved. Hopefully that included Brother Swartzentruber’s clan.

  “Kumm, Rebekah.” Her father offered his hand to assist her from the buggy. Instead, she handed him the bread and her bag.

  She g
lanced around the place, but couldn’t see much since it was still quite dark outside. She’d have to explore the property later once the sun arose.

  Her father knocked on the door.

  A moment later, a tall lanky man opened the door. Ach, he must’ve been well over six feet tall. Six and a half, maybe. “Come in, please.” His voice was quiet.

  They walked into the small house. By the look of it, it was only single-story. Not too common for Amish who tended to have large families. But if he only had two kinner, he had no need of a large home to have to take care of.

  “The kinner are still asleep.”

  “What are their names?” Becky asked.

  “Mervyn and Myra.” He nodded. “Mervyn is one. Myra is three.”

  Oh, wow. They were just young kinner. For some reason, Becky had pictured the children to be a bit older. They would no doubt require her full attention at those ages.

  “What time should I pick Rebekah up this evening?”

  “I work two jobs three days a week. Eight hours at my first job, then four at my second.”

  Rebekah gasped. “When do the kinner see you?” By her thinking, if he left in the morning before they arose, then returned after their bedtime, they didn’t get all that much time with their vatter. The poor things. Especially since they had no mother to care for them.

  Mervyn seemed to ignore her question, but looked at her father. “I should be home around six this evening. Tomorrow it will be closer to eleven.”

  Her father’s eyes widened. “Perhaps next time I will let Rebekah take the buggy.”

  “That would probably be a gut idea,” Mervyn concurred. He turned to her. “I don’t see them as often as I’d like. Right now, the most important thing is providing for their needs.”

  She wanted to argue. What greater need did children have then a relationship with a parent? Especially now, since they had no mother. Jah, money was necessary. But how much did one need to provide for two little ones and this small home? Not much, to her thinking. At least, not enough to necessitate working the long hours this man did away from his kinner.

  “I will be back around six, then.” Her father nodded, then she watched him walk out the door.

  She turned to her employer. “What would you like me to do?”

  “I made a list on the table there. But right now, if you could just fix me a lunch, that would be gut. Today will just be a regular lunch, but I’d like an extra-large one on the days I work both jobs.”

  She nodded, then got to work. Thankfully, the man seemed pleasant enough. She wondered about the children.

  “Do you have any special instructions for the kinner?”

  “Nee, but I will need you to hitch up the horse and buggy and make a trip to the store, unless you would rather hire a driver.”

  She frowned. Using an unfamiliar horse that didn’t know her touch would be a challenge for sure. “Could it wait until tomorrow? I’d feel more comfortable taking my own horse.”

  “That would be all right, I suppose. You may buy any groceries you think we’ll need. I’ve left money in that envelope there.” He pointed to the table where he’d also left the list.

  “Are there any meals you or the kinner prefer?”

  He shrugged. “The kinner don’t eat much. Meryvn takes a bottle yet, so we’ll need milk.”

  “Does he drink cow’s milk or goat’s milk?” She was quite familiar with goat milk and the benefits for little ones. It was very similar in composition to a human mother’s milk. The Bible even spoke of goat’s milk.

  “Cow.”

  “I have goats at home that give milk. I could bring some.”

  “If you wish.”

  She nodded in satisfaction. Surely the milk from her goats would be much more healthy than store-bought cow’s milk. “Are you familiar with the benefits of goat’s milk?”

  “Nee. But I really don’t have time right now. Perhaps later.”

  “Sure.” She handed him his insulated meal container just as a vehicle arrived outside.

  He held up a cell phone. “My number’s on that paper if you need to get a hold of me for anything important.” He nodded, donned his hat, then stepped out the door.

  Becky watched out the window as the lights from the vehicle faded from view. She had many hours until Mervyn would return. She wondered how her day would go.

  She moved to the table and picked up the note he’d left for her. Perhaps she should have glanced at it prior to his departure, in case she had any questions. But time had been limited and she’d had to prepare his lunch.

  The note didn’t mention what time the kinner usually awakened, and now she wondered. If she knew, then she could begin to prepare their meal. She could at least fix a cup of tea for herself. Fortunately, she’d thought to bring some tea and a book with her.

  She looked around the kitchen to see if anything needed to be done, but surprisingly Mervyn turned out to be a pretty decent housekeeper. She had no idea how he did it, since he was absent so much. But then, Leroy had said that he’d just moved to these parts, so maybe the clean home spoke more of lack of opportunity for untidiness rather than the widower’s housekeeping skills. Or perhaps he’d cleaned up because he knew she was coming. Whatever the case, she knew there were always things that could be done in a home, even if it was clean.

  She wished she’d asked about the children’s bedrooms. She wanted to check in on them, but she had no desire to stumble upon Mervyn’s private abode. Perhaps the kinner slept in the same room as him? Maybe the youngest did, at least. It wasn’t uncommon to have young kinner stay in the same bedroom as their folks, especially if they needed attention.

  She set off down the small hallway. This home wasn’t a typical Amish home as far as structure went. But the plain interior left one with no doubt it was Amish-owned. The walls were unadorned, with the exception of a couple of different scenic wall calendars and a clock.

  Her thoughts went to the clock on the wall. Had it been an engagement gift from Mervyn to his wife? If so, what had been her reaction when she’d received it? Was she expecting Mervyn to propose when he did, or had she been taken by surprise? Ach, perhaps it was best not to dwell on those questions. It wasn’t like she’d ever learn the answers to them anyway. She’d never ask about something so personal—especially not since his fraa had passed on.

  She guessed that they couldn’t have been married very long. Mervyn seemed pretty young. At least a couple of years younger than herself, she surmised.

  What would it be like to receive a beautiful wall clock from someone who wanted to spend the rest of their life with you? From someone who had chosen you above everybody else? From someone who loved you with all their heart?

  She couldn’t fathom the tragedy Mervyn must’ve experienced when his fraa passed on, leaving his kinner with no mamm. Shattering his hopes and dreams for the future. No doubt, like most Amish, he’d just accepted it as God’s will. Not that there was all that much one could do anyhow. Death was appointed unto every man, the Bible said.

  FOUR

  The day had flown by fairly quickly.

  Mervyn and Myra proved to be quiet like their father. Neither of them seemed ill-mannered. Nor, like their father, did they appear overly cheerful. They were both pleasant and compliant like, Becky guessed, their father must be.

  The kinner enjoyed being outside, it seemed, so they’d spent a good deal of the day outdoors. Since the children were relatively easy to manage, Becky realized that it would most likely be no problem whatsoever to move her soapmaking operation to Mervyn’s home. She’d be sure to ask him about it this evening when he returned. The thought excited her. If he okayed it, she’d be able to provide money for her folks with two incomes. Dat would be pleased for sure.

  Supper had been pretty simple. She’d just thrown together a chicken vegetable noodle soup. It would go perfectly with the bread she’d baked earlier in the day.

  She realized that she should probably ask Mervyn about his like
s and dislikes concerning food so she could be sure to prepare meals that would be eaten. No sense in making food that would go to waste. Of course, if Mervyn was anything like her father, the family would eat whatever she served whether they liked it or not. Nothing went to waste in the Lehman household. Waste not, want not.

  Just as she moved the pot of soup to the warming shelf, she heard a vehicle pulling into the driveway. She quickly removed bowls from the cupboard and placed them on the table. She took butter out of the ice box and set it next to the bread.

  A moment later, the sound of footsteps on the back steps told her that Mervyn would be entering any moment. She quickly gathered the kinner to greet their father.

  The moment he walked through the door, the youngest one squealed with delight. Mervyn’s face lit up as he met the children’s eyes. Surely, this was the highlight of his day.

  She looked forward to the day, if it was in Der Herr’s plan, when her mann would come home to their little ones. The sound of buggy wheels outside interrupted her musings.

  “Sounds like your vatter is here.” Mervyn said as he placed his lunch container on the counter, then scooped young Mervyn into his arms. “How did your day go with the little ones?”

  Her focus moved to Myra, who was currently climbing up into one of the chairs at the table. “Ach, they were wunderbaar. No trouble at all.”

  He nodded as though he expected nothing less. “Gut.”

  “I wanted to ask about something.” She reached for her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I am a soap maker. Would you mind if I brought my supplies and made soap here?”

  “Ach, lye is dangerous for the kinner, ain’t so?”

  “Well, jah, it can be. But I am very careful when making my soap. I would make sure that it is not within their reach.”

  He grimaced. “I would rather you didn’t make your soap here. I plan to purchase supplies for the garden. Perhaps you would like to tend to that.”