Amish Weddings

by Leslie Gould

  “We can do that Wednesday.” Zane started down the stairs.

  “I’ll go see Eve tomorrow, then.” Lila had the day off from the Plain Buffet, and she’d been meaning to visit her aunt for the last week to see their foster child. Eve was taking a month-long leave of absence from her teaching job. “I’ll take Billie,” Lila added. The sooner she could get the horse into shape, the better. She knew driving a buggy was one of those things that worried Zane. Most Amish children grew up learning how to handle horses. She certainly had.

  Zane reached the front door.

  “Wait,” Lila said.

  He turned toward her.

  “Hold me,” she said.

  He did but not in the same way he had in the bedroom. “One more month,” she whispered.

  “I need to get you home,” he responded, pulling away and turning the doorknob.

  When they arrived at her back steps, Zane quickly told Lila good-bye and then retreated back to the lane. Under the moonlight, she watched until he disappeared into the darkness. They would soon be together, in their little house, in their bed, with their someday Bobbli’s room across the landing. One more month was all.

  She took the steps slowly, hoping everyone would be asleep. She entered the house quietly, hung up her cape, and tiptoed into the kitchen as the smell of coffee greeted her. Someone must have made a pot after she left. The lamp burned on the table. Dat must have left it on for her, but there was a light coming from the living room too. He wouldn’t have left that lamp burning. Perhaps he was getting ready for bed.

  She heard a soft murmur. Then another. Dat’s voice and someone else’s. “How ill is he?” Dat asked.

  “Quite. And it seems he has been for some time. He’d need a heart transplant to recover.” It was Beth’s voice.

  Lila strained to listen.

  “I can’t wish ill on someone else,” Dat said. “Not for my own gain.”

  “No,” Beth said. “I pray for his recovery. And yet it doesn’t seem likely that—”

  “I could talk to Gideon about this,” Dat said. “Perhaps he’d understand.”

  “Wait,” Beth said. “Give it a few weeks.”

  “Gideon didn’t say we couldn’t ever see each other, just that we shouldn’t spend as much time together,” Dat said.

  “Jah,” Beth said. “But he’s right. I’m surprised it took so long for people to start to gossip. I shouldn’t be here tonight. . . .”

  Lila’s face grew warm, sure they were talking about Beth’s ex-husband. She continued on to the hallway and the bathroom. She knew Dat and Beth cared about each other, but hearing them whispering in the dark made them seem so vulnerable.

  She was certain they would marry if Beth’s husband died. But would they feel horrible about it, under the circumstances? They might not wish him dead, but they would certainly benefit from his demise. Perhaps Lila would have a stepmother after all, and soon.

  She would be out of the house by then and happily married, with a life and home of her own. Rose would soon too. But how wonderful it would be for Trudy to have Beth as her mother.

  Lila paused at the bathroom door in the dark hallway, ashamed of herself. She shouldn’t be hoping for a future contingent on the death of Beth’s ex-husband either. None of them should. It would be best not to think about it until it happened. Hopefully that’s what Dat and Beth would do too.

  Ten minutes later as she crawled into her bed, Rose whispered from across the room, “How do you like your house?”

  “It’s wonderful,” Lila said.

  “Jah,” Rose said. “I stopped by late last week. Zane did a good job.”

  “Why are you still awake?”

  Rose turned on a flashlight and held up a book. “I was looking at recipes.”

  “Share the best ones with me.”

  “I will.” Rose turned off the light. “Did you see Trevor?”

  “No,” Lila said. “Why do you ask?”

  “I just wondered how he was doing. . . . He seemed so lost.”

  “He’ll be all right,” Lila said, rolling onto her back. “Guder Nacht.”

  Within a few minutes Rose’s breathing slowed, followed by a little snore. Then she flopped over to her other side, obviously sound asleep. Rose had changed since she started courting Reuben. She’d become less lippy and selfish, and she’d taken on more of the household chores, including the cooking and baking.

  There was still a part of Rose that craved attention though. Lila hoped she’d stay focused on Reuben—and not shift her interest to an ex-soldier struggling to cope with day-to-day life.

  No, that wouldn’t happen. Maybe it would have two years ago, but Rose had truly changed. She wouldn’t be distracted by Trevor, no matter how good-looking he was.

  The next afternoon Lila stood in the doorway of the baby’s room in Eve and Charlie’s house, watching as Eve lifted a little boy with red hair out of the crib. Light from the window bounced off the lemon-colored walls of the room. The curtains were a sheer yellow and the crib a contrasting white. A small chest of drawers and a changing table were pushed against the far wall.

  For a moment Lila regretted not peeking into the Bobbli’s room in her house. Had Zane painted the walls? Surely he hadn’t furnished the room. Just the thought of the little house and the way she felt the night before made her face grow warm.

  Eve turned toward her. “Here he is,” she cooed. “Just up from his nap.”

  Lila knew the baby’s name was Jackson, and that he was five months old. He looked smaller though. He wrinkled up his face and started to cry.

  Eve put him to her shoulder and patted his back. “There, there,” she said. She was a natural. Lila couldn’t help but remember how well Eve had cared for Trudy when she was a baby—how well she’d cared for all of them.

  Eve kept talking as she changed his diaper and then carried him out to the kitchen. As Eve grabbed the bottle that she’d prepared a few minutes before, Lila said, “He’s really cute.”

  Eve nodded in agreement as she positioned the bottle in the baby’s mouth. He latched on and relaxed against Eve’s arm.

  “How long do you think you’ll have him?”

  “It could be a while. In fact there’s the possibility his mother might relinquish him.”

  “And then what?”

  “We’d like to adopt him if no family members come forward to do so.”

  “Oh,” Lila said, thinking that sounded risky.

  After the baby drained the bottle and Eve burped him, she asked Lila if she wanted to hold him. “Of course,” she said, taking him and then settling down on the sofa. The little one looked up at her and smiled, just a little.

  “Oh, look at that.” Lila stroked the side of his face, and he smiled again, his blue eyes lighting up. She glanced up at her aunt. “He’s so alert.” He was small, true, but he seemed healthy.

  Eve nodded. “His reflexes are good, and he’s on schedule as far as all of his developmental steps. If he falls behind, we’ll get the support he’ll need.”

  The women talked more about the baby and then about Charlie. Finally Eve asked about Zane.

  “He’s volunteering at the station this afternoon and evening,” Lila said.

  “Oh, great. Charlie didn’t mention that.”

  Zane considered Charlie one of his best friends even though there was a fifteen-year age difference between them. After Zane was discharged from the Army and came home to Lancaster, he began volunteering at the station during the same time he took instruction to join the church.

  He now carried a beeper for emergencies, and he’d been known to arrive at the station on a scooter he bought at a yard sale—which he claimed was faster than hitching up his horse to his buggy. Lila teased him that was because he was so slow at hitching a horse. That made him laugh. But she guessed the truth was he was afraid Billie might take off and never get him to the station at all.

  Eve asked, “How’s the house coming along?”

  Lila�
�s face grew warm again at the thought of it. “It’s mostly done—Zane did such a good job.” She smiled. “Although I’m guessing Charlie helped him.”

  Eve smiled back. “I think quite a few people helped.”

  “Like who?” Lila asked. Zane had been secretive, hardly talking with her at all about the project.

  “Well, Charlie. And your Dat.”

  Lila nodded. She’d suspected that.

  “And Daniel, and even Reuben.”

  “Reuben?” Lila wrinkled her nose.

  Eve laughed. “Jah, he seems to be over you.”

  A smile spread across her face. “No doubt. He’ll be much happier with Rose.”

  Jackson blew a bubble and then smiled again.

  “What time is it?” Lila asked.

  Eve pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweater. “Two forty-five.”

  “Uh oh, I need to get going.” She stood. “Time to pick up Trudy.”

  “I thought Rose was handling that.” Eve stood too and put out her arms for the baby.

  “No, she’s working as a mother’s helper today—she should be home when I get back with Trudy.” Her sister had never gotten a steady job like Lila had, but she helped out mothers in the area a couple of times a week at least.

  A few minutes later, Lila was sweet-talking Billie and feeding him an apple. Once he’d finished it, she drove the buggy toward the highway. Billie’s blinders flapped in the warm breeze, and his stride was steady. He hadn’t startled at anything all day. Lila was confident that he would be a good buggy horse, and that even Zane would be able to handle him soon.

  She hoped her wedding day would be as bright and warm as the weather had been all week, but there was no way to know. The only thing she could be certain of was that the house would be crowded. Dat had said he’d finish the basement, but he hadn’t done a thing, and it would soon be too late.

  Her mind went back to Eve as she half listened to the clippity-clop of Billie’s hooves on the pavement. Lila hoped, if it was the Lord’s will, that Eve and Charlie would be able to adopt the little boy. And hopefully there would be more children in their future too. They’d waited a long time to be parents.

  Lila had never wondered whether she’d be able to have children. Most Amish women could, but every once in a while she’d hear of someone who couldn’t. No one expected such a thing before they married.

  But what if a woman knew before? What if Eve had known, would Charlie still have married her? She imagined so. She thought of how badly Zane wanted to be a father and wondered how he would react.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror as a semi approached and pulled the horse as far to the right as she could. A second later the truck blew past her. Billie kept trotting along, seemingly oblivious to the leaves, dirt, and debris swirling around him. A few minutes later she turned off the highway, slowed for the covered bridge, and then bounced over the wooden slats through the dark tunnel, peering through the railings on the side into the creek. She was only a mile from the school.

  The buggy bounced back into the sunlight, and the creek turned, bubbling alongside the road now. An Amish farmer cut his hay, probably his last crop of the year. In the next field a group of young men heaped dry hay into a wagon. One of the horses nickered, causing Billie to turn his head some, but he didn’t break his stride. Across the road a cow mooed, and a farm dog ran along the fence line, barking at the buggy.

  Or maybe at another vehicle. Lila sensed something behind her. She glanced toward her rearview mirror. But before she could register the image, something rammed into the back of the buggy. She flew forward, the reins slipping from her grasp, and hurtled through the windshield. She sailed over the top of Billie as the buggy flew apart behind her. The very last thing she remembered was flying toward the creek.

  3

  The alarm sounded in the station as Zane and the firefighters ate a late lunch, having returned to the station after responding to a car accident on Village Road. Thankfully it had been minor, with only one transfer to the hospital. No one had been badly hurt.

  Zane pushed back his chair, rushing with the rest of the firefighters through the kitchen door to the bay, hoping this next event would be minor too. Charlie led the way, listening to his radio as he ran.

  “It’s a buggy accident,” he called out. “An SUV is involved.”

  Zane cringed. Those were the worst, and he couldn’t help but fear it might be someone he knew. The paramedics and firefighters filed out, quickly put on their gear, and headed toward the trucks. Charlie climbed into the driver’s seat of the ambulance while Zane climbed into the passenger seat of the fire truck and buckled up as the driver, Bob, started the engine. A moment later they lurched forward and out of the open garage door, swinging left onto the street and then through the outskirts of Strasburg, following the ambulance.

  Vehicles pulled to the side of the street as the sirens blared. The ambulance turned onto the highway and then a few minutes later onto a side road and headed toward Juneberry Lane.

  Zane breathed in deeply. Just because they were headed that way didn’t mean the accident involved anyone in the Lehman family. A few minutes later, the ambulance turned again. Zane exhaled in relief—until he realized they were headed toward Trudy’s school. His heart raced faster. The ambulance turned again, but the driver of the fire truck went straight.

  “We can’t go over the covered bridge,” Bob said. “We’ll take a detour.”

  By the time they arrived, the ambulance had stopped not quite fifty feet in front of a black SUV on the shoulder of the road. Bob parked the fire truck behind the SUV. Zane jumped down. A group of both Amish and Englisch were gathered beyond it.

  An Englischer stood with his hands on his knees beside the SUV, his head down as if he was sick. He appeared uninjured.

  Zane headed toward the crowd, past the SUV, with its dented front bumper, and past the remnants of a buggy and the orange caution sign toward the group, just as a police car pulled up to the scene. Gideon stepped from the crowd toward Zane.

  “It’s Lila,” he said. “She’s injured badly.”

  Zane plunged forward.

  “She’s unconscious.” Gideon grabbed Zane’s arm. “You should wait here. She landed in the creek, and the horse fell on top of her.”

  “No,” Zane choked, propelling himself forward, out of Gideon’s grasp. She was now on the edge of the road. Beyond her was Billie. Two Amish men worked at freeing him from the torn harness as another tried to hold the horse steady. If Lila wasn’t so good with Billie, Zane would fear the horse had spooked and caused the accident, but he doubted that was the case.

  Charlie looked up. “She has a pulse,” he said.

  Zane squatted down beside her on the other side, relieved. She had cuts on her forearms, hands, and face. She was bleeding on her forehead and left cheek, but it seemed her arms took the brunt of the cuts. They were covered in blood, but the cuts seemed superficial. Her dress was soaked with water. He touched her forearm—her skin was cold and clammy. Thank goodness it was September and the creek was low.

  Her eyelids fluttered a little as he said, “Baby, it’s me. We’re going to take care of you.”

  “Let’s get her on the board,” Charlie said. “After we get the neck brace on.”

  She could easily have a spine injury. Definitely internal injuries. And probably broken bones too.

  The other paramedic handed Zane the neck brace. He reached around her neck, pulling away the hair that had fallen around her face, and fastened the brace. Her face was nearly as white as her Kapp, which lay on the ground next to her. Zane took a deep breath, trying not to panic.

  Charlie knelt beside him, and they carefully rolled Lila onto the board. After they strapped her down, the other paramedic stepped forward and took one side of the board while Charlie took the other. Several men, including Gideon, rushed to help. The police had the road completely closed and one officer was questioning the driver of the SUV. He was around thirty, wore
work boots, and kept running his hand through his hair.

  Another policeman joined the Amish men attending to the horse.

  As they neared the ambulance, Gideon stepped toward the driver of the SUV. Zane guessed the bishop would have some words of comfort for the man.

  Zane was thankful for that because if it were up to him to say something, it probably wouldn’t be very nice. He heard Gideon call the man “Donald” and then say something Zane couldn’t understand. He turned his attention back to Lila. She looked so small on the board. So fragile. Panic welled up inside of him again. Please, God! Let her be all right.

  Once they slid the board into the back of the ambulance, Charlie climbed in and then said to Zane, “Ride up front.”

  Bob stepped to Zane’s side and said, “Give me your gear. You won’t need it at the hospital.”

  Zane quickly stripped out of his pants and jacket and turned it over, along with his helmet, grateful others were thinking for him.

  As Zane hurried to the cab, the Englisch man spoke loudly. “The horse veered to the left and pulled the buggy in front of me.” Zane stopped and turned.

  “I tried to stop,” the man said. “Honestly.”

  Gideon, still standing beside the man, motioned for Zane to get into the ambulance. “I’ll get Trudy home,” he called out, “and then talk to Tim. Get going.”

  Zane seethed as he did. If he’d been driving the buggy, yeah, Billie might have done what the man said. But there was no way it happened that way with Lila. She was a good, cautious driver. And she knew how to control a horse, even Billie.

  “Man, I’m sorry,” the driver of the ambulance said, flipping on the siren. “I’m really sorry. Do you need to call anyone? Want to borrow my cell?”

  Zane nodded, took the phone, and punched in his mom’s number. As the ambulance turned around in the road, he could see the school ahead and the students who had gathered in the yard, watching the accident scene. He couldn’t make out Trudy—but his heart lurched at what she might have seen.

  His mom’s voice came on with her usual, “Hello, this is Shani.”