An Unexpected Amish Courtship

by Rachel J. Good

  “Can’t wait to get away from me?” Wilma sounded hurt.

  “Neh, I only wanted to pick these up.” Sovilla gathered everything on the floor, extracting the envelope.

  “Let me see that.” Wilma held out her hand for the letter.

  “It’s for me.” Keeping a tight grip on it, Sovilla turned the address to face her aunt.

  “Humph. Shoulda known. Nobody writes to me.”

  Sovilla would ask Mamm to mail Wilma a card or letter. Perhaps her aenti would also like to be included in the family’s circle letter. Sovilla hoped Mamm would forward that.

  When they got inside, Wilma dumped the circulars in the recycle bin, then sat at the kitchen table and stared at Sovilla, who was reading her letter. Feeling the intense gaze on her, Sovilla glanced up. Wilma focused on the newspaper she’d opened, but not before Sovilla had glimpsed the avid look in her aenti’s eyes. She looked like a small child hungrily watching someone eating an icecream cone.

  Once again, Sovilla’s heart went out to her aenti. What had happened to alienate Wilma from her family and cause her to leave the faith? To harden her heart and make her treat everyone around her as an enemy?

  Wilma rattled the newspaper as if to indicate she had no interest in Sovilla’s business. Yet she kept peeking over the top of the page.

  Sovilla skimmed the details of family meals to dwell on the parts about her sisters struggling to adjust and Lloyd forbidding Mamm to get a job at the local quilt shop. Ardys, Mamm’s employer in Sugarcreek, had recommended her to the Middlefield shop owner. In Sugarcreek, Mamm had taught quilting classes and done demonstrations in addition to making quilts to sell. Lloyd insisted that was hochmut, and he’d not have anyone in his household showing off and being prideful.

  In the end, Lloyd worked out an arrangement for Mamm to sew quilts at home to be sold in the shop. Reading between the lines, Sovilla got the impression Lloyd planned to keep the money Mamm made.

  At the end of the letter, Mamm had added a P.S.

  Lloyd takes all the mail that comes in. I don’t want him to know Wilma’s address. If you write to us, please send it to the quilt shop. Melinda, the owner, promised to come during the day when Lloyd’s not home to drop off any mail I get.

  Sovilla’s hands tightened on the letter. Her onkel had always been controlling, but something must have happened for Mamm not to trust him with her letters. Sovilla read on:

  P.P.S. Not five minutes after you left for the bus, Lloyd arrived. I didn’t have time to take your letter to Henry’s mamm, but Lloyd agreed to mail it. I expect he sent it out on Monday after we arrived. I didn’t want you to worry if you didn’t hear from Henry right away.

  Sovilla breathed out a soft sigh. She’d been wondering if Henry had decided he had no interest in a long-distance relationship. But judging from Mamm’s letter, Henry should have gotten her letter by now. She’d hear from him soon. Maybe he’d left a message on the answering machine.

  She headed to the table in the hallway that held the phone. Not sure how to check Wilma’s machine, she bent closer to read the words. Replay caught her eye. If she pushed that button, would Henry’s voice come out?

  She’d extended her hand when Wilma came up behind her.

  “What are you doing?”

  Sovilla forced herself not to jump at Wilma’s question.

  “Ch-checking for messages.” Perhaps she should have asked for permission first. And maybe Wilma had some private calls, and Sovilla shouldn’t eavesdrop.

  “Who would be calling you? Not your mamm. Not while she’s staying at Lloyd’s.”

  For some reason, Sovilla hesitated to tell Wilma the truth.

  “That means it’s some boy. Am I right?”

  Unwilling to lie, Sovilla nodded.

  “You gave him this number?” She didn’t sound happy.

  “Jah.”

  “I don’t give out this number to anyone. And especially not to strangers.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Well, if he planned to call, he would have done so by now. He hasn’t, so that means he doesn’t care. Typical man—out of sight, out of mind.”

  Sovilla bit her lip to hold back her protest. Henry wasn’t like that. After all, he’d only have gotten her letter yesterday or today. A letter to Sugarcreek might arrive a little sooner than one to Pennsylvania.

  “If he called, this light would be blinking.” Wilma poked a gnarled finger at the clear round bump. “It’s not. So forget him. He’s forgotten you already.”

  “Neh, he hasn’t. He’d only have gotten my letter today.”

  “Don’t wait around for a call that most likely will never come.”

  Sovilla blinked back tears. Henry wouldn’t forget her. He might be busy. Maybe he hadn’t read her letter yet. Maybe he’d had no time at work. Maybe—

  “You’re wasting your time. Men, pah.” Wilma brushed her hands together as if dusting away traces of dirt. “You’re better off without them. They can’t be trusted.”

  Sovilla disagreed but kept her opinion to herself. Wilma would see when Henry called. At least, Sovilla hoped he would.

  * * *

  Isaac lined up for a cinnamon bun the next morning, only to see Fern at the counter again. He glanced around, hoping to spot Sovilla somewhere else in the stand.

  “Are you all right?” Fern asked.

  He didn’t know whether to nod or shake his head. Physically, he felt fine, but he’d counted on seeing Sovilla.

  Andrew bumped into line beside him. “Isaac’s pining for Sovilla.”

  Isaac elbowed his brother. Why did Andrew always try to embarrass him?

  “I see.” Fern’s smile indicated she saw a lot more than Isaac intended.

  He hoped she’d keep her mouth shut. What if she repeated that to Sovilla? Everyone in the stand would be laughing about him all day long. Why had he come to the bakery again? He’d only made a fool of himself.

  “Well,” Fern said as she pulled out a bag, “you’ll be glad to know Sovilla will be working today. We’re short-handed with Nettie out sick.”

  “It’s your lucky day,” Andrew crowed, elbowing him in the ribs.

  Isaac elbowed him back and gave him a dirty look. Be quiet, he mouthed.

  “Sorry I’m late,” a breathless voice said behind them. Sovilla rushed past.

  Isaac cringed. His brother had been so loud, she must have heard. If she didn’t know about his interest before, she certainly did now. All Isaac wanted to do was escape. But with everyone hemming him in, he couldn’t move and could barely breathe.

  “Sovilla, have you met Isaac Lantz?” Fern asked as she moved out of the way to let Sovilla pass. “And his brother Andrew?”

  Before Sovilla could answer, Nick called, “I introduced them and warned her those Lantz boys are trouble.”

  “What?” Andrew puffed up his chest. “Why would you tell her that?”

  “He’s only kidding.” Fern’s words smoothed Andrew’s ruffled feelings, but did little to calm Isaac.

  The less attention he got, the better.

  “Wie geht’s?” Chilliness edged Sovilla’s polite question.

  Andrew inched closer to the counter. “We’re fine now that you’re here.”

  Isaac swallowed. He couldn’t believe his brother was doing this to him—first embarrassing him in front of Sovilla and now being overly friendly with her.

  Fern’s sympathetic look made it worse. She seemed to have sensed his distress. “Sovilla, have you met Snickers yet?” Fern pointed down to the puppy.

  “I’ve seen her, but I’ve never met her.”

  Was that a jab because Isaac hadn’t let Sovilla pet the puppy? He studied her face, but she didn’t seem to be holding a grudge.

  “Ahem.” The Englischer behind them leaned forward. “Were you two planning to buy anything, or did you only come to flirt?”

  Isaac’s face flamed. Embarrassment and shame kept him silent. But if his brother didn’t give Sovilla thei
r order soon, he’d have to do it. Then her kind expression would dissolve into pity.

  “We’ll take two sticky buns,” Andrew announced, directing his words to the man behind them rather than to Sovilla.

  Isaac wanted a cinnamon roll, but he wasn’t about to correct his brother. He’d eat whatever Andrew ordered. Anything to get away from this uncomfortable situation.

  Andrew smiled at Sovilla. “Don’t mind my brother here. He doesn’t talk much.”

  Her chilliness returned. “I expect that’s better than yammering on about nothing.”

  Isaac grinned. He’d never seen anyone put Andrew in his place like that.

  “Jah, well.” Andrew tugged at his collar.

  Isaac couldn’t believe she’d discomfited his brother. Andrew usually had snappy comebacks. Instead, he backed up a bit, and Sovilla held the bag out to Isaac.

  He’d been so enamored with her, he’d forgotten about paying. He fumbled for his money. She opened her palm to take the change, and Isaac dropped it in carefully so he wouldn’t touch her. But when she handed him the bag, her fingers grazed his, and Isaac’s skin tingled at her softness. He almost dropped the bag.

  The man behind Isaac shouldered him out of the way. “It’s about time. Why don’t you wait until she doesn’t have a long line to chat with her?”

  Heat rose from Isaac’s neck to his face. Even the tips of his ears burned. He whirled around so fast, he startled Snickers. His puppy kept to his heels as Isaac darted to catch up with Andrew, who had his hands jammed into his pockets and his back to the stand.

  “I guess she prefers you to me,” his brother said sourly, looking dejected.

  If only that were true. Isaac hardly dared hope. But what difference did it make? She already had a boyfriend.

  Chapter Five

  On Monday, Isaac headed for the library. He carried the paper from Mrs. Vandenberg and presented it to the librarian.

  “You want information on Demosthenes?” She gestured toward a woman at a nearby desk. “Our reference librarian would be happy to help you.”

  Isaac crossed the floor and handed the note to the reference librarian. He shifted from foot to foot as she studied it, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to explain why he wanted the information. Not only didn’t he know what Mrs. Vandenberg’s cryptic message meant, he also didn’t want to be forced to speak to the librarian. Not when he was so nervous.

  She smiled up at him. “Would you like books and articles?”

  He released a pent-up breath and nodded.

  She typed something into the computer, jotted down information, and led him to the shelves. “Here are some biographies.” She pulled two off the shelves. “We also have some collections of his speeches. They’re over here.”

  Isaac took the four books she’d selected and sat at the nearest table. He opened a biography first and started to read. The more he read, the more confused he got. Why had Mrs. Vandenberg recommended he read about this great orator from ancient Athens? A famous speaker? When Isaac could barely get out a word?

  He’d never known her to be cruel, but this seemed like an unkind joke. Maybe she had one of Demosthenes’s speeches in mind? But how would he find it in these books? He was about to take all the books home with him, ready for long nights of reading, when the reference librarian came to his table.

  She held out a few sheets of paper. “I printed out this article you might want to read before you begin your study. It highlights the most important parts of his life.”

  With a nod and smile to thank her, Isaac took the pages. He skimmed them. At age eighteen, Demosthenes sued his guardians for stealing his inheritance, and he won. Well, Isaac had no intention of taking anyone to court. Especially not his parents. But it surprised him that, more than two thousand years ago, a teen would challenge adults like that.

  To train himself as a speaker, Demosthenes built an underground studio and shaved half his head to force himself to stay inside and study. Although Isaac wouldn’t mind finding a way to avoid going out, he was pretty sure Mrs. Vandenberg hadn’t intended for him to imitate that. He laughed to himself as he imagined his parents’ reaction if he showed up at the dinner table with half of his hair missing.

  He reached the next paragraph and stopped. This great speaker stammered as a child? He couldn’t speak clearly, so he practiced talking with his mouth full of pebbles. That made him work hard to get the sounds out. He also ran along the ocean and yelled over the roar of the waves. Doing those exercises made him one of the greatest speakers that ever lived.

  Isaac didn’t have an ocean nearby, but he did have a kennel full of barking dogs. Maybe he could try these exercises with them. They wouldn’t laugh at him or judge him. And the path to the barn had plenty of gravel he could use instead of pebbles. He just had to be sure none of his brothers or sisters found out. They’d tease him mercilessly.

  Picking up the two biographies, Isaac took them to the checkout counter, along with the article the librarian had given him. Maybe the books would have more tips on how Demosthenes had learned to speak well. Isaac didn’t need the speeches for practice. He could use the Bible.

  He left the library with hope in his heart. And gratitude for Mrs. Vandenberg’s suggestion. Maybe someday he’d be able to share all the feelings and thoughts he kept trapped inside.

  * * *

  As the days passed with no word, Sovilla began to wonder if her aenti had been right. Had Henry forgotten her already? Or had he been hurt because she’d left suddenly without telling him? She’d explained why in the letter so he’d understand. Maybe she’d been foolish to hope he’d suggest they marry. The longer she waited, the less likely that seemed.

  “Sovilla?” Wilma’s shrill voice drew her away from the answering machine.

  Every day after work, Sovilla waited until Wilma had gone into another room before hovering over the machine, praying to see a blinking light. And every day, she ended up disappointed.

  “You’re not checking that stupid machine again, are you?”

  Sovilla didn’t want to admit she had been or listen to another lecture on how awful and unfaithful men were, so she scurried into the kitchen.

  “Stop torturing yourself,” Wilma said when Sovilla walked through the doorway. “Give it up.”

  To distract her aenti, Sovilla interrupted, “Did you have something you wanted me to do?”

  Before Wilma could answer, the phone rang. Sovilla wanted to bolt for it, but this was Wilma’s house. Her aenti should be the one who answered the phone.

  Please keep ringing, Sovilla begged as her aunt lumbered into the other room.

  The phone stopped, and the answering machine kicked on.

  Henry, please call.

  Wilma lifted the receiver and barked a hello into it.

  “This is the . . .” a tinny voice said.

  Her aenti’s loud “I’m on here now” drowned out the rest of the words.

  Other than a quiet Yes, Wilma didn’t say another word. When she hung up, she sank into the chair beside the phone.

  “Is everything all right?” Sovilla worried at her aenti’s pale face.

  “Fine, fine.” Wilma waved an impatient hand. “Just the hospital setting up the date for my hip surgery.”

  “You look upset.”

  “Would you want to have doctors cut you open?” Wilma challenged her.

  “Neh, I guess not.”

  “You guess not? Why don’t I let you take my place and see if you change your mind?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s scary.”

  “Scary? You think I’m scared?” Her aenti glared at her. “I just don’t trust those doctors. No telling what they’ll do when you’re sleeping.”

  Sovilla couldn’t imagine what it would be like to distrust everyone the way Wilma did.

  “And if they give me too much anesthesia, I might never wake up.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be careful.”

  “That doesn’t mean they don’t make mist
akes. With my luck, they’ll make a fatal one.”

  “I hope not. I’ll be praying.”

  “Praying? Pah. Like that’ll help. Besides, even if it did work, God wouldn’t do anything for me.”

  “He cares for everyone.”

  “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

  “Whatever it is, God can forgive you.”

  “I doubt it.” Wilma pushed herself to her feet.

  Sovilla whispered a prayer for her aenti that God would heal her pain, both physical and spiritual. Perhaps Wilma believed turning Englisch had been unforgivable.

  As her aenti started from the room, Sovilla suggested, “No matter what it is, you can ask for God’s forgiveness. And if you got right with God, you could join the church.” Sovilla assumed her aenti had left before she was baptized. Mamm wouldn’t have sent Sovilla here if Wilma were under the bann, would she?

  A cruel, hollow laugh burst from Wilma’s chest. “I have no desire to be a part of the Amish church. That would mean I’d have to make peace with Lloyd, and I will never, ever do that. He destroyed my life.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Her onkel had done many hurtful things, but Sovilla couldn’t imagine anything that would make her turn her back on her faith. “What did Lloyd do?”

  “Never mind. Forget I said that,” Wilma growled. “That topic’s off-limits. I never should have even let his name pass my lips.” The pain etched into every line on Wilma’s face indicated a deep heartbreak.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Wilma whirled around and glared at Sovilla. “If and when I ever decide to share my secrets with anyone, you’d be the last person I’d choose.” Then she pivoted on her heel and stomped out of the room.

  Sovilla grasped the nearest chair back to keep herself upright. If her aenti had stabbed her with a knife, the pain could not have been any more intense. They’d forged a tentative truce. Or at least Sovilla had believed they had. Now the truth had laid bare her aenti’s hatred.

  How could Sovilla stay here knowing her aenti’s revulsion and distrust? But she didn’t have enough money to leave. Besides, how could she abandon Wilma before her upcoming operation?