An Amish Holiday Wedding

by Carrie Lighte

  “I’ll go wring out her clothes,” Iris replied.

  “Gut idea. Kumme, Ivy, you ought to have some soup, too,” Ruth instructed. “Hunter, keep an eye on Faith for a minute, will you?”

  Hunter unloaded the wood into the bin beside the stove and then clapped the debris off his sleeves before turning toward Faith. He scrutinized her, rubbing his thumb against the cleft in his chin. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  “Jah,” Faith answered. Vaguely recalling her last conversation with him, she wondered if thanking him for coming to her aid on the ice would be well received. Would he brush her off, the way he’d done when she tried to thank him for helping her keep her business? Regardless, she figured saving her life merited an expression of gratitude. “Denki for rescuing me, Hunter,” she said simply but ardently.

  Hunter’s voice was tremulous and his countenance astonished as he confessed, “I’m so relieved the Lord gave me strength to pull you out. I wasn’t sure I could.”

  Fearing he’d further injured himself from the effort, she replied, “I’m sorry if carrying me put a strain on your back.”

  Hunter frowned. “Neh, I didn’t mean that. I meant—”

  “Excuse me,” Iris interrupted as she bustled in with Faith’s clothes and a wooden drying rack. “I need to hang these in front of the fire. Hunter, would you take Ivy back to town? She feels terrible about what happened and she wants to be helpful, so she’s volunteered to tidy the bakery before closing it for the night. If you leave now, she can finish by the time Mervin arrives to pick her up. When you return here, perhaps Faith will be warm enough for you to take her home.”

  Hunter promptly agreed, although he lingered where he was standing, as if there was something else he wanted to say. But when Ivy entered the room a moment later, he simply remarked, “I’ll go bring the buggy around,” and exited the house.

  Wrapping her shawl around her, Ivy announced, “I’ll make sure the goodies stay extra fresh overnight.”

  Faith smiled benignly. “Denki, Ivy.”

  “I won’t eat anything, not even a cream-filled doughnut,” she promised solemnly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Her expression was so earnest that Faith couldn’t allow herself to laugh. Aware her young friend felt guilty about Faith’s icy plunge and was doing her best to make up for it, Faith said, “I trust you, Ivy. But since the cream-filled doughnuts don’t keep well overnight, I’d appreciate it if you’d take them home to share with your groossdaadi.”

  Ivy’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

  “It would be a big help to me if you would.”

  “Oh, I will, Faith,” Ivy said, nodding fervently.

  After she left, Faith leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. How cozy it was to be bundled in a quilt, her insides warm from sipping homemade soup, and her mind at ease because her friends were tending to the bakery on her behalf.

  “You’re not dropping off on us, are you?” Ruth asked, limping to the sofa.

  “Neh, I was thinking about how blessed I am to have such gut friends,” Faith explained. Then, for the umpteenth time, she reminded herself she didn’t need a man in her life. She had her friends as well as her family, and she was going to be fine, just fine—wasn’t she?

  * * *

  When Ivy was situated in the buggy beside Hunter, she asked, “Are you angry at me?”

  “Neh, I’m not angry, Ivy. But you did give us a scare. You have to stop running away when someone hurts your feelings.”

  Ivy sniveled.

  “I know it’s not easy,” he confessed. “Sometimes when people hurt my feelings, I want to run away, too.”

  “But you can’t because you use a cane, right?”

  “I guess that’s one of the reasons,” Hunter replied, chuckling. “From now on let’s both try not to run away when someone hurts our feelings? How about if we tell them, ‘You hurt my feelings and I’d like to talk about that’?”

  “Okay,” Ivy agreed. Then, without missing a beat, she said, “Hunter, you hurt my feelings and I’d like to talk about that.”

  Hunter smiled again. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. What did I do?”

  “You don’t want me to sell jarred goods anymore. You didn’t think I was doing a gut job. That’s why Ruth Graber is closing her shop.”

  “I understand it might feel that way, Ivy, but it’s not the truth. My ant Ruth closed the cannery because she’s getting older and she has to take care of her health. Her decision has nothing to do with your abilities.” As he spoke, Hunter realized his assumptions about Ruth’s decision were as ridiculous as Ivy’s. He added, “Ruth’s decision doesn’t have anything to do with my abilities, either. In fact, I don’t think she ever would have closed the shop if she thought working there was the only thing you or I could do. She would have kept it open to make sure we had employment.”

  “I have a new job now,” Ivy said. “In the bakery. Faith Yoder and Pearl Hostetler will give me baking lessons. Faith bought me blue oven mitts.”

  “See? You’ve got so many talents you get to do something else now!” Hunter exclaimed. “But no matter where you are or what you’re doing, I hope we’ll always be friends.”

  “We’ll always be friends,” Ivy repeated.

  The two of them decided to keep the shop open for any last-minute sales while Ivy wrapped up the baked goods and Hunter swept the floors. They were halfway through their tasks when Henrietta arrived to pick up Faith, saying she’d sit in the storefront until closing time. Hunter took her aside and told her what had happened at the pond.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have allowed her to kumme to work today!” Henrietta asserted. “She looked absolutely miserable when she arrived home early yesterday, and she slept straight through supper. I should have insisted she get more rest.”

  As Henrietta departed for Ruth’s house, it occurred to Hunter that his spiteful remarks the previous day probably contributed to Faith’s malaise. Overcome with regret, he agonized, I acted like such a dummkopf. How can I ever repair our relationship now?

  That night Hunter counted the minutes ticking by—not because he was waiting for his pain to subside, but because he was afraid when he closed his eyes he’d envision the glacial water closing over Faith again. Although he’d responded swiftly and skillfully during the emergency as it occurred, now that he lay in the secluded dark of his room, he reflected on how horrified he’d been at the possibility she’d slip beyond his reach.

  To comfort himself, he said aloud, “But she’s alright now. She’s alright.” With the help of God, he’d found the strength to draw Faith to safety, despite his physical challenges. In fact, he had no idea when or where he discarded his walking stick in the process of rescuing Faith. All he knew was that when he recognized she was in danger, the only thing that mattered was gathering her into his arms.

  Hunter suddenly realized there was absolutely no weakness, except his own attitude, stopping him from being a husband one day, and he bolted upright in bed. He’d almost lost Faith once already, and he wasn’t about to lose her again. Tomorrow he was going to tell her he no longer wanted to be her friend: if she’d have him, he wanted to be her suitor.

  Chapter Twelve

  Because the dress Faith wore the previous day was rumpled from her accidental dip in the pond, and her other two workday dresses were dirty, she donned her Sunday dress. Then she inched down the stairs half an hour earlier than usual in order to avoid waking her sister-in-law, who most likely would pressure Faith into staying home to rest. Today was too festive of an occasion to miss going to the bakery.

  Dear Henrietta, she wrote on a pad of paper. Please don’t worry about me; tonight Ruth and Wayne will give me a ride, since we’ll be delivering pies—including several to our household—and I won’t be able to ride my bike home. Denki, Faith.

  Since it was
the twenty-fourth of December, Faith intended to close the storefront at two o’clock, so she, Pearl and Ivy could dedicate themselves to making pies to give to their neighbors on Main Street, as well to other members in need in their community. The three women would bake enough to take home for their own families, too.

  Although Faith looked forward to spreading good cheer, she was filled with nostalgia as she coasted down the hill into town. Because the tenant above the bakery was moving out on the twenty-seventh and Faith was free to move in on the twenty-eighth, this would be one of the last times she’d bike to work. While she wouldn’t miss traveling in inclement weather, she always enjoyed the solitude of her early morning ride.

  The new year would bring other changes, too; namely, who would lease the cannery space now? Faith’s thoughts darted to Hunter. What would he be doing, come January? Two days ago, she couldn’t wait for him to leave, but this morning she was surprised by how thoughts of his departure added to her wistfulness. She wished time would stand still a little longer.

  “It smells like it’s going to snow,” Pearl said when she arrived a couple of hours later.

  “Jah,” Faith agreed loudly as Pearl walked into the hallway to hang her shawl. “My nephews will be thrilled if we have a white Grischtdaag. They were disappointed the first snowfall is already nearly gone.”

  “Faith!” Pearl called from the storefront. “Why did you use so much plastic wrap on these treats?”

  “What?” Faith asked, carrying in a fresh tray of sticky bun wreathes. She surveyed the display case for the first time that morning. Then it dawned on her. “Ivy covered those trays last night. I guess she wanted to make sure they stayed fresh.”

  “Covered them? She swaddled them!”

  “Neh—they’re mummified!”

  The women were gripped with laughter. After they composed themselves, Faith recounted the story of her unexpected swim in the pond.

  “Didn’t I say it was a gut thing such a fine, strapping man was in town again?” Pearl asked when Faith described how Hunter reeled her ashore.

  “That’s what you said alright,” Faith responded ambiguously, belying the surge of conflicting emotions she felt about Hunter.

  Turning the discussion to Pearl’s visiting children, Faith tore the plastic from a tray in order to prepare complimentary samples for the customers to nibble on as they sipped free spiced cider, coffee or hot chocolate, a holiday tradition at the bakery.

  At midmorning, Faith was surprised to see Hunter emerge from a taxi idling in front of the bakery. Her stomach fluttered, and she would have disappeared into the kitchen to avoid him, but Ivy was in the washroom and Pearl was running a personal errand at the mercantile. Faith’s pulse pit-a-patted as Hunter entered the bakery, adroitly maneuvering his cane in rhythm with his footsteps.

  “Guder mariye,” she said while polishing the countertop.

  “Guder mariye,” he replied. His eyes were lustrous and a huge grin adorned his face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, denki. What can I do for you?”

  “I need three sticky bun wreathes, please.”

  “Three?” Faith questioned skeptically.

  “Jah,” Hunter answered. “I’m accompanying Ruth to the hospital to get her cast off. I was rude to the hospital staff after my injury, so I wanted to bring them a token of apology. I couldn’t think of anything better than something you baked.”

  Hunter seemed to be carrying himself with a new confidence, and his ruddy cheeks created a striking contrast with his dark hair. To be honest, his presence took her breath away, and when he complimented her, she felt her resolve to keep him at a distance melting away, like icing on a warm cake. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She’d be cordial, yes, but she wasn’t going to let him pretend they hadn’t fallen out—even if he did save her life. It was fine and good he was apologizing to the hospital staff, but that didn’t change things between the two of them.

  “I see,” she said crisply, and turned boxing the treats.

  “Ah, there you are,” Faith said when Ivy walked into the room a moment later. “Please assist Hunter if he needs to purchase anything else. I hear the timer going off.” Before leaving, she added, “I hope all goes well for Ruth at the hospital. Mach’s gut, Hunter.”

  After pulling the bread from the oven, Faith raced into the washroom and splashed water on her face as her heart boomed in her ears. Ruth’s cast was coming off, which meant Hunter likely would leave even sooner than expected. It won’t be soon enough, Faith thought—not because she wanted him gone, but because she was beginning to hope he’d stay.

  * * *

  Hunter sat beside his aunt in the taxi and balanced the boxes on his knees. Faith disappeared before he asked if he could take her home that evening in order to speak with her in private. Although she looked especially lovely and she stated she was fine, there was something about her manner that suggested she was preoccupied. Either that, or she wasn’t nearly as pleased to see him as he’d been to see her. Not that she should have been, considering their last full conversation. Perhaps it’s best if I show up unannounced at the end of the day, he mused. That way, Faith won’t have time to think of an excuse to decline a ride.

  Twisting his head toward Ruth, he cleared his throat. “Ant Ruth,” he began in Deitsch so the driver wouldn’t understand him. “I want to apologize for how ungracious I was the other day when you offered my mamm and me such a generous gift. I’ve had a prideful attitude lately, and I’m sorry.”

  Ruth chortled. “Jah, you’ve been a bit of a bear. But I understand. After my accident, I felt pretty low, too. And the lower I felt, the more puffed up I became, not wanting to admit my weakness. That’s why I didn’t notify you and your mamm about my accident right away. I thought I’d be fine on my own. I didn’t want to admit my own limitations.”

  Hunter nodded. His aunt had hit the nail on the head.

  “But it’s when we’re weak Gott is strong,” Ruth reminded him. “You’re like me. Sometimes you’ve got to stop trying to do everything by yourself and start relying more on Gott’s grace and on those who are in the position to help you. And that means accepting the money I set aside for the lease.”

  “But how can I accept such a big gift, knowing I might not be able to repay it?”

  “It’s a gift, Hunter, not a debt. It’s like...like Gott’s grace to us. We can’t repay grace, we can only receive it. And the way we receive it is with humility and a grateful heart.”

  Hunter nodded again. Then he placed his hand over his aunt’s and said, “Denki. I appreciate your gift, but with the exception of my recent hospital bills, I’ve managed to stay on top of our expenses from Indiana. So, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to use your gift for the lease after all. That is, I’d like to keep the building space and use it to set up a furniture restoration shop.”

  “Wunderbaar!” Ruth whooped.

  Hunter’s apologies to the hospital staff were also well received, with several nurses cheering when he announced he brought goodies.

  “So where’s your ‘new best friend’?” Tyler chided with his mouth half-full. “That stick isn’t the one we sent you home with.”

  “Neh, this is the Amish version,” Hunter joshed, embarrassed about breaking the first one. “I made it. See how I can hold on to it here, or prop it beneath my arm, like so...”

  Tyler’s eyes widened. “Nice work, but I still think you’d do better holding hands with a successful, pretty woman who can bake like this.” He held up the last of his treat for emphasis before popping it in his mouth.

  “Er, actually...” Hunter began. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t confide in an Englisch acquaintance, but Tyler had been so encouraging that Hunter wanted to share his good news. “Actually, when she gets done with work, I’m asking if I can court her.”

  “On Christmas Eve? Nice touch, very romantic!” T
yler said, bumping Hunter’s shoulder with his fist. Then someone urged him into a patient’s room and he was gone.

  Ruth was so giddy to have her ankle free of its cast she chatted all the way home, but Hunter could barely concentrate. His most difficult apology lay before him. Would Faith hear him out? Would she accept his offer of courtship? Would she even accept his offer of a ride home?

  He spent the afternoon working on the single chair James Palmer left with him as a sample of the furniture set, and then, an hour before hitching the horse, Hunter shaved again and put on a fresh shirt.

  “It’s so gut to see you! How well you appear!” Pearl exclaimed when she unlocked the front door. “How are you feeling?”

  Pearl had such a genuine way of inquiring about his well-being that Hunter’s nervousness temporarily vanished. “I’m much better, denki,” he said. “You must be well, too, now that your kinner are home for a visit?”

  Their easygoing conversation was interrupted when Faith emerged from the back room with several boxes stacked in her arms. She couldn’t see around them, but when she set them down them on the counter, she looked surprised.

  “Oh, hello again, Hunter,” she said. Over the course of the day, her hair had loosened within its clip, and her skin had a pleasant, arresting glow.

  Hunter wiped his palms on his trousers. “Hello again, Faith,” he managed to reply.

  “There’s Wayne’s buggy outside,” Pearl said as she donned her shawl. “Since I’m eager to get home to my family, Hunter mentioned he’d give you a ride instead, okay? We’ll drop the last pies off at Isaac Miller’s house, so all you’ll have to deliver are the pies going to your own family.”

  Faith almost imperceptibly cringed, but she politely agreed. They helped Pearl with her pies and then loaded Hunter’s backseat with pies for the Yoder family and one for Ruth’s household, as well. By the time he was seated side by side with Faith, Hunter’s mouth was so dry he didn’t know if he could say the words he’d been so desperate to express.

  * * *