The First Love

by Beverly Lewis

  Then later, without being told, he hooked up the hose to the outside spigot and began watering the flower beds along the house. Again, Leroy said nothing.

  Did Joseph encourage him to do this? Rachel wondered.

  She stood there, observing Leroy from afar as he moved toward the other side of the house. What’s come over him?

  At the dinner table that noon, Rachel casually mentioned that she wanted to deliver a dried beef and noodle casserole to Joseph’s elderly great-uncle Paul, who lived several miles away.

  Right then, Joseph volunteered Leroy to drive her.

  Goodness. Rachel nearly dropped her fork. This won’t go over well.

  Andy and Stephen exchanged glances, eyebrows raised.

  With a delayed nod, Leroy agreed.

  Scarcely knowing how to respond, Rachel just sat there eating, wondering how she and Leroy would manage such a journey. She was actually on the verge of tears, something that seemed to be the case much too often here lately.

  It was after a dessert of sliced peaches and vanilla ice cream that Joseph caught her eye and gave her a reassuring wink.

  My husband’s up to something. . . .

  Following the meal, while the girls cleaned up the kitchen, Rachel got in the family carriage, Leroy in the driver’s seat.

  He mentioned how smoothly everything had gone in erecting the new stable. “With so many pitchin’ in to help.”

  Glad that he was making an effort to be friendly, she enthusiastically agreed. “Plenty-a teamwork.”

  A few seconds passed, followed by more silence, and then Leroy spoke once more. “I’d like to be on a crew to raise a barn sometime.”

  Even though it was a small admission, she felt pleased that he felt up to sharing it with her. “I think you’d be gut at it,” she replied.

  And then it was as if he remembered where he was and who he was riding with, and the conversation turned awkward, more like usual. Rachel asked him a few questions, but the answers were shorter and less candid now, and nothing seemed to really interest him.

  All the same, the fact that Leroy had actually talked to her—and with more than the usual one-word responses and assorted grunts and mumbles—was curious. He wasn’t overly friendly, but he wasn’t rude, either.

  Eventually, Rachel simply stopped pressing him and appreciated the progress they’d made. Inch by inch, she reminded herself.

  After Rachel and Leroy made the delivery to Great-uncle Paul, Leroy unexpectedly pulled into the parking area for Betsy’s shop. A number of cars were parked there, as well as a motorbike. He got out and tied Buster to the hitching post, then walked around to Rachel like a young gentleman before accompanying her inside, where customers sat at tables along the open windows.

  “Dat gave me some money for a treat,” Leroy said quietly as they waited in line to place their order.

  “He did?” Her Joseph was a man of surprises!

  Rachel chose a cinnamon twist and encouraged Leroy to select something, too, but he said he was only thirsty, and Betsy gave him some cold water in a cup. Rachel, however, persisted, and finally he agreed to order a giant chocolate chip cookie, as large as three regular-sized cookies combined.

  They talked with Betsy at the counter for a while, and then an Amishwoman with five children in tow came into the shop. Suddenly, Leroy stood taller, even ran his hand through his hair, glancing now and then at the family.

  Curious, Rachel looked their way again and noticed the oldest of the children, a slender blond girl about Leroy’s age, who smiled discreetly at him. When Rachel glanced back at Leroy, his face was all lit up. They must know each other, she decided.

  Leroy’s mood seemed to improve considerably as a result of the brief encounter; he even hummed a bit as he and Rachel rode toward home, and she had to cover a smile. Compared to the previous months, it was as if a shadow had lifted from Leroy—just the fact that he’d spoken to her respectfully was a step forward.

  Rachel hardly knew what to make of it and looked forward to sharing all this with Joseph. Tonight, she thought, when we’re alone. And I want to tell him something else, too. . . .

  Later that afternoon, Maggie and Miriam spent some time weeding and hoeing the large family vegetable garden while Rachel took a nap. There on the high ridge overlooking the wooded area near the road, Maggie felt at peace. Expending her energy like this had always given her a sense of satisfaction, and today it meant so much more to her, because she’d missed working the soil like this, doing her part for the family.

  When the work in the vegetable garden was done, and while Grace and Miriam were indoors planning supper, Maggie took on the rose bushes, paying close attention to mixing the right amount of fertilizer with water. Mamm had always doted on her roses. Nearly like they were her children, Maggie thought, smiling at the memory.

  Despite the heat of the afternoon, Maggie felt renewed. And as she worked, she prayed silently, not wanting anyone to think she was talking to herself, like Great-aunt Lettie did sometimes.

  It had been an effort not to think too often of Jimmy. She still found him more appealing than any other young man she’d met, but she just wanted to be thankful for his friendliness toward her. His seeking me out in conversation at the last Singing doesn’t need to mean anything more than that.

  Tonight, she and Grace planned to go for a walk after the supper dishes were done, and tomorrow, Rachel wanted all of them to pick white peaches at a nearby orchard. Maggie would definitely go and help. For once in the longest time, she could pull her weight and do many of the chores expected of a young woman her age.

  My life has returned to near normal, she thought, breathing a thanks to her heavenly Father.

  29

  Olde Mill Road seemed to buckle in the heat that evening as Maggie and Grace walked together, their arms swinging in unison. The main topic of conversation was Martin Lantz—he was all Grace wanted to talk about. And who could blame her? She was so happy.

  “Dat would think I’m too young to be getting serious,” Grace said, her skirt flowing about her legs as she walked. “Ain’t so?”

  “And what’s the hurry?” Maggie replied, savoring this time alone with her sister. “Martin’s only a few months older than you. Just enjoy your courtship, if it’s moved to that already.”

  “Martin’s goin’ to be helpin’ with the apple harvest at his Onkel’s orchard down in Quarryville, where he’ll stay even over the weekends. Sounds like we won’t be seein’ much of each other this month or next.”

  “Then it’ll be that much more special when ya do.”

  “Oh, it will.” Grace grinned, her bandanna slipping back on her head. “But let’s not just talk ’bout me. I saw you and Jimmy together at the last Singing.” Grace looked at her expectantly.

  Maggie smiled. “Jah.”

  “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

  “Jah.”

  They laughed.

  “So you’re really not gonna tell me anything?” Grace asked, nearly pleading.

  “What’s to tell?”

  “Well, he looked so pleased to see you and was talkin’ nearly nonstop the whole refreshment time.”

  Maggie smiled. “Hmm. I’d have thought you’d be too busy with Martin to notice.”

  “Oh, I was keepin’ my eye on you, believe me,” Grace said, pausing a moment to wipe her face with the handkerchief she pulled out from under her sleeve. “Honestly, it was so nice to see yous together.”

  They had moved to the grassy slope along the roadside to cool their bare feet, the road was so hot. “Sure wish we had some water,” Maggie said. “My mouth is parched.”

  “Mine too.”

  “So let’s head back,” Maggie suggested as they waited for two carriages to go by. “We’ve already walked at least a half mile.”

  “We could stop in at Aunt Nellie’s and say hullo.”

  Maggie agreed. Even this close to sundown, it was still nearly too hot to be out walking.

  ——�
��

  Their great-aunt was sitting on the wooden bench that encircled the hickory tree just to the side of the Dawdi Haus, not far from the porch where the sun shone hard this time of year. The tree was a favorite of Aunt Nellie’s, whose grandfather had planted it many years ago.

  Maggie noticed her great-aunt’s lips moving as the girls approached her, and Maggie wondered if she was talking to herself.

  “Hullo, Aendi,” Grace said right away.

  Nellie turned to look their way, and a big smile lit up her wrinkled face. She opened her hands to them.

  “Hope we didn’t interrupt you,” Grace said as she went over to sit on one side of Nellie.

  Maggie sat on the other. “This is one of those days it’s so easy to be thankful, ain’t so?”

  Nellie chuckled softly. “Jah, and I was thankin’ the dear Lord for every blessing I could name. This here lovely shade, for one. And for your father’s kindness to me in my old age . . . and you girls an’ your brothers, for bein’ so attentive to this ol’ lady.”

  “Now, Aendi, we love ya,” Grace said. “Of course we want to spend time with you.”

  “Have ya always prayed out loud?” Maggie had to know.

  “Just since I lost my Matthew to Glory.” Here Nellie glanced toward the sky. “I sometimes ask God to let Matthew know that I still think of him every day. I’ll always love him.”

  “That’s so dear,” Maggie whispered against the lump rising in her throat.

  “I don’t see anything wrong with prayin’ aloud like that,” Grace said just then. “Sometimes my beau does, too.”

  This surprised Maggie.

  “He told me he even slipped away to the tent meetings. In fact, he went twice.” Grace was fanning her face with her hankie. “I wonder how many other Amish youth did that.”

  Maggie didn’t reveal that she’d seen a few Amish young people there, standing outside mostly, though none she recognized from this church district.

  After a while, Grace said, “Would ya mind if I got some cold water for us?”

  “Oh, let me go an’ get a pitcherful,” Maggie offered, rising and going to the main house. Grace will benefit from talking alone with Aunt Nellie, thought Maggie, glad for the many times she’d shared with the faith-filled woman.

  Inside, she found Miriam pouring cold root beer for herself, Dat, and Rachel. “They’re out on the back porch, tryin’ to cool off. It’s the hottest day of the summer so far, Dat says.” Miriam picked up the tray with three tumblers full of the homemade treat.

  Maggie was too thirsty to bother with root beer, so she filled a pitcher with cold water and stacked three tumblers to carry outside.

  When she returned to Aunt Nellie and Grace, Nellie was holding Grace’s hand, leaning near her to talk more privately. Hanging back, Maggie thought it was the dearest sight ever. It reminded her of Mamm’s tenderness with all of them.

  In a few moments, Grace looked up, and Nellie released her hand.

  “C’mon over, Maggie-bird . . . we’re all right, ain’t so, Gracie?” Aunt Nellie said, a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Don’t want to disturb yous.” Maggie came over, gave a tumbler to each of them, and poured the cold water clear to the top. “This’ll wet your whistle.”

  Nellie took a long drink, then sighed. “Ah, this is the life . . . sittin’ here after the day’s chores are done, just soakin’ up the beauty of God’s creation.” She looked into their faces. “And with such wunnerbaar-gut company, too.”

  Grace nodded and smiled over at Maggie.

  “Do ya ever think of each new day as fresh soil spread out before us? What we choose to do, think ’bout, and yearn for are like seeds falling from our hearts into the earth,” said Aunt Nellie. “I once heard a minister say that we’re constantly sowing seeds, whether we know it or not.”

  “Preacher Brubaker’s sermons sounded a little like that,” Maggie said, recalling his impassioned words. “They really made me ponder things.”

  “I should think so,” Aunt Nellie said, smoothing her apron. “Before I take my last breath, I hope to be sure I’ve sown seeds of obedience, kindness, and grace . . . and have pulled out the weeds of selfishness, impatience, and wickedness.”

  Grace was squinting. “It’s awful hard to imagine the word wicked and you belonging in the same sentence, Aendi Nellie.”

  Nellie nodded her snow-white head. “All of us are born with a wicked streak, ya know. Born into sin, as the Good Book says. We’re all the children of Adam and Eve.”

  “Still, you’re the kindest Aendi ever,” Grace said, making Maggie smile and tear up at the same time.

  “Only one holy person has ever walked this earth,” Nellie said. “And you both know Who I mean.”

  Maggie and Grace nodded.

  “Without the Lord’s Spirit in us,” Nellie continued, “we’re as wicked as any person who chooses to live for themselves . . . not heeding God’s ways.”

  “You must be a preacher like your Dawdi,” Maggie observed softly.

  “Oh, I just say what’s in my heart.” Nellie reached over and patted Maggie’s hand. “What we fill our minds and souls with counts. If God’s Spirit lives in us, we’ll sow gut seeds.”

  Maggie mentally stored away all these things, thankful that God had given her so many healthy years.

  After family prayers, Rachel and Joseph leisurely prepared for bed, then went around and opened the windows in their bedroom as high as possible. Rachel even said she wished they had a downstairs room on a hot night like this.

  “Leroy was a little different today,” Rachel mentioned.

  “I noticed, too.” Joseph sat near the window in only his pajama bottoms, fanning himself with the afternoon newspaper. “And he didn’t protest when I volunteered him to drive ya to Paul’s.”

  “He was certainly polite,” Rachel said, telling of their conversation in the buggy and then the stop at Betsy’s shop.

  “Well, an’ he apologized to me for sayin’ he wanted to leave to work in Mount Joy,” Joseph said, still fanning himself.

  “That’s a relief. I was scared he might disobey ya on that.” Rachel pulled her brushed hair up off her neck into a loose bun to cool herself off. “Thank the Lord he had a change of heart.”

  Joseph nodded in agreement. “One of God’s gifts to us . . . a bit like those pills seem to be to Maggie.”

  A blessing . . . and a relief, she thought, going to stand near the window on the other side of the small table. There, Joseph kept The Budget and other periodicals, including Farmer’s Almanac and the old German Biewel that he used for his early morning reading. Thinking about blessings, she asked, “By the way, Joseph, can you afford to keep buying those pills?”

  He looked over at her. “Maggie mentioned that, too—even offered to work in Betsy’s bakery, if she’s hiring.”

  “Ain’t too far away, really.”

  “Nee, but Maggie hasn’t joined church just yet, and even though I believe she will, come fall, I’d hate to think of her rubbin’ shoulders with all those tourists.”

  Rachel nodded. She understood where Joseph was coming from.

  “Of course, if she really wants to, it would be hard to deny her workin’ alongside Betsy.” He rose to go across the room to lie down. “Ach, I’m afraid if there’s no breeze tonight, we won’t be getting much sleep,” he said, kicking off the bedcovers.

  She could see that Joseph wasn’t interested in talking further about Maggie on this miserably warm night. Not when he was tired and understandably out of sorts.

  “I have some very happy news that might make ya feel better,” she said, going over to sit on his side of the bed and stroking his arm. “I’m expectin’ a baby.”

  Joseph rolled onto his back and smiled up at her now. “Is that right?” He reached for her gently, kissing her. “The best kind of news, jah?”

  She agreed, smoothing his beard gently. “I love ya so.”

  He sighed and clasped her hands. “We’ll have us a litt
le Rachel, maybe,” he suggested.

  “Or a wee Joseph.” Her heart was so full, Rachel wanted to hold him and never let go.

  30

  Maggie was doing surprisingly well picking peaches the next morning with her sisters and Rachel. She stood on the ladder amidst the leafy branches, the sun warm on her face. Even the bees nearby didn’t bother her. This was a task she’d missed for years, now that she thought of it.

  Below her, amongst the lowest peach tree branches, Miriam hummed happily as she worked, talking now and then to Maggie while Grace and Rachel worked together the next tree over.

  “Can’t remember when I last saw ya on a ladder,” Miriam said, pressing a ripe peach to her nose and smelling it.

  “I’ve been takin’ some new pills—special supplements,” Maggie said, reaching for the ripest peaches and giving them a gentle twist, then tug. “Hopefully they’ll keep workin’.”

  “Aunt Nellie says she prays no one else gets what you had.”

  Maggie looked at her little sister, so energetic and healthy. “Me too.”

  “We’re pickin’ extra for Aunt Nellie, jah?”

  “With four of us pickin’, we should have plenty.”

  “We all know how much Dat and the boys love peaches.” Miriam’s eyes shone. “Peach pie, peach cobbler . . .”

  “Don’t leave yourself out, silly,” Maggie said, smiling down at her.

  “I’m just tryin’ to think of others first, like Mamm always said.” Miriam worked for a while without talking.

  Maggie nodded her head. “We can talk more later, if you want,” she said gently. These past months had been a tough time of transition for all of them, not just for Leroy and Rachel.

  Miriam looked up. “I’m glad you’re my big sister.”

  “Well, fortunately for you, I always will be,” she told her with a grin as Miriam steadied the ladder.

  When they arrived home, Maggie carried a quarter bushel of plump peaches over to Aunt Nellie’s.