by Emma Miller
Rebecca glanced at Ruth and Miriam. She didn’t want to talk about this with her sisters, and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it in public. It had not been a good week. When Caleb had told her he was having supper with Uncle Reuben’s family with the intention of trying to find out if he and Dorcas might be a suitable match, she’d been taken by surprise. Then, as the week had passed, she’d found herself growing more and more upset by the idea. And more certain she did have feelings for Caleb. Miriam had warned her she had to act fast, but it had never occurred to her that she’d have to act that fast. Even before she’d had the opportunity to consider what she felt, everything changed.
Ruth placed two apples into her brown paper bag. “I heard he went to supper at Aunt Martha’s Sunday evening and again on Wednesday. Wearing his good coat. Sounds like courting to me.”
“If Dorcas can land the new preacher, it will be a triumph for Aunt Martha,” Miriam said. “She told Mam that she was afraid she’d have Dorcas on her hands forever.”
“Mmm.” Ruth picked up an apple, examined it and then rejected the apple. “Maybe it’s the new tooth.”
“Getting that broken tooth repaired certainly didn’t hurt Dorcas’s appearance,” Miriam agreed. “You know I hate it when a woman’s looks are more important than how beautiful she is inside, but Dorcas can use all the help she can get.”
“That’s not very charitable,” Ruth admonished.
“I didn’t mean it unkindly.” Miriam looked up at her. “But the truth is, Dorcas is plain, and the way Aunt Martha insists she dress doesn’t help. Amish men aren’t all that different from any other. Most of the time, they’ll pick the pretty girls first.”
Ruth frowned. “It didn’t stop our Anna from making a good match with Samuel. Her size didn’t mean a thing to him.”
“Ya, but who wouldn’t want Anna? She has the biggest heart of any of us. She’s a wonderful mother to Samuel’s children—and she makes him happy. Not to mention that she’s a better cook than even Mam.”
“I think Dorcas could have married long ago if she took a page from Anna’s book. It’s no secret that Dorcas isn’t always pleasant to be around. She can be...” Ruth nibbled at her lower lip “...critical, and...”
“Aunt Martha-ish?” Miriam suggested. “Maybe that’s what Caleb is looking for. No one can fault Dorcas’s devotion to the church. It could be that she’s exactly the kind of wife Caleb is looking for.”
Rebecca continued to sort apples and tried not to listen to her sisters. Then she tried to pretend that she didn’t care whom Caleb was walking out with. If he chose her cousin, though... She swallowed, trying to dissolve the knot in her throat. Over the years, she and Dorcas hadn’t always been the best of friends, but Dorcas was family and she was a member of their church. If Caleb asked Dorcas to marry him, Rebecca would have to find a way to be happy for them.
Ruth lowered her voice and moved closer to Rebecca. “You see Caleb every day. Did he say something to you about being interested in Dorcas?”
Rebecca didn’t look up at her. “He said that he was visiting to see if he and Dorcas suit each other.”
“Catch.” Miriam tossed Rebecca an oversize green apple. “There’s still time, little sister. I think you should let Charley speak to Caleb for you.”
Rebecca felt tears sting the backs of her eyelids.
Ruth squeezed Rebecca’s arm and looked at her. “You do care for him, don’t you?”
Rebecca opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, Susanna trotted down the wooden ramp toward them, waving a vegetable peeler.
“Look what I bought!” Susanna exclaimed. “With my own money. A peel-er. Now I can help peel apples. I won’t cut myself.” She thrust the green-handled utensil in Ruth’s face. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“It is.” Ruth smiled back at her. “Where did you find such a good one?”
“By the reg-i-ter. King David’s Mam. I saw her. Inside.” Susanna was so excited that she was practically bouncing from one black athletic shoe to the other. “She helped me count my money.”
“Great,” Rebecca agreed, glad for a reason to change the subject. “Mam will be proud of you.”
“Good job,” Miriam said, admiring Susanna’s purchase. “You didn’t forget about wanting to peel apples, did you?”
“Ne. I didn’t forget. I want to help,” Susanna said. “Not just play with kinner. Help like you.”
“We can always use another pair of hands,” Ruth said.
Susanna nodded vigorously. “And...and when King David and me get married—” she took a deep breath “—I can make applesauce for him!”
Rebecca met Miriam’s gaze, and suddenly their little sister’s happy moment became a sad one for the older sisters. No matter how many peelers she bought, they all knew Susanna would never be able to marry and leave home. She would always live with Mam or one of them, and in some ways, she would always remain a child.
I should be ashamed of myself, Rebecca thought. Instead of being upset by Caleb’s attention to her cousin, she should be thanking God that she wasn’t born with Susanna’s burden. Her sister was a precious and innocent soul, but she could never be a wife or a mother. Someone, somewhere will surely ask me to be his wife.
“Hi!” Grace joined them at the apple bins. “I didn’t know you were coming here today. I could have picked you up in my car. I’m so glad I got to see you again before you and Charley set off on your adventure.” She kissed Miriam on the cheek and continued greeting each of her sisters affectionately. Because Grace was Mennonite, she didn’t wear Amish clothing, but she was dressed in a long denim skirt, a modest blouse and a lace prayer cap.
“How’s school?” Rebecca asked. Grace was attending a college program for veterinary technicians and would soon be working beside her husband John at his animal hospital.
“Tough, but I love it.” Grace flashed her a grin. “This one teacher I have is a real bear, but I can always count on John to help me study for her tests. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“You couldn’t have found a better partner,” Miriam said.
Miriam and John had been good friends for years, and she’d come close to marrying him. But he wasn’t Amish, and in the end, Miriam had chosen Charley and remained true to her faith. It was funny how things turned out, Rebecca mused. Who would have believed that John was destined to be her brother-in-law, not by wedding Miriam as everyone expected, but by becoming the husband of a beloved half sister who’d recently come into their family? Proof that God truly had a plan for each of them.
She wondered what His plan was for her.
I thought it might have been Caleb, she thought with a pang of sadness. She’d been so certain that there was no hurry, no reason to rush the awakening feelings that stirred in her heart. Now, selfishly, she didn’t want Caleb to become her cousin by marriage. She wanted more....
“So what’s new at home?” Grace asked. “I kept thinking about all of you on Thanksgiving. Uncle Albert ordered a whole turkey dinner from a restaurant, and we all sat around and stuffed ourselves. Grandpa Hartman ate most of a sweet-potato pie all by himself.”
“We missed you, too,” Ruth said. “It was a quiet day of prayer and fasting for us.”
“But we’ll expect you all for Christmas dinner.” Rebecca added one last apple to the bag. “Uncle Albert and his father, too.”
“We wouldn’t miss it. You know how ’Kota loves to play with his cousins.” Grace picked up a bag of apples. “Let me help you load these in the buggy.”
Ruth and Susanna went inside to pay while Rebecca, Miriam and Grace walked across the parking lot to the hitching rail.
“What’s this I hear about Caleb Wittner and Dorcas?” Grace asked as they approached the buggy. “Is he really courting her? I thought that you...” Grace gave Rebec
ca a meaningful look. “You know. So I was surprised when John said that Noodle Troyer said—”
“Caleb isn’t walking out with Dorcas.” Rebecca shoved her bag of apples into the back of the buggy so hard that the brown paper split and apples spilled out and rolled across the floorboards.
Miriam chuckled. “Bad subject, Grace. I was just telling Rebecca last weekend that if she thought she might be interested in Preacher Caleb, I should have Charley speak to him before someone else beat her to him.”
Rebecca whirled around. “If Caleb and Dorcas are suited to each other, I’d be the last person to—” She bit down on her lower lip.
Grace’s eyes clouded with compassion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” She sighed. “It’s just that...” She shrugged. “I don’t understand. I’m a Yoder, and I should have learned all this stuff by now, but how the Amish choose a husband is just...just...”
“It must sound strange to you, being raised among the English,” Miriam offered, “but it isn’t odd to us. It’s just the way things have always been done. What is it that you aren’t clear about?”
“When John and I started to be interested in each other, we...we dated, sort of. He asked me out.” She looked from Miriam to Rebecca. “John said that Amish boys don’t ask girls to go out with them—they have someone else ask.”
Rebecca nodded. “There’s often a go-between. Amish boys are shy.”
“Usually more so than the girls,” Miriam put in. “And since our church is one of the more conservative, we like to see couples who are walking out be with other people, not alone.”
“Chaperoned?” Grace said. “Even at Dorcas’s age? Really?”
Miriam slid her bag in and began to gather the apples that had spilled out of Rebecca’s bag before raising her gaze to meet Rebecca’s. “I wanted to have Charley talk to Caleb to see how he felt about Rebecca. When there’s a friend or relative asking, it’s less embarrassing if the other person isn’t interested.”
“So Caleb had a go-between to ask Dorcas—” Grace began.
Rebecca shook her head. “Ne. Not exactly. Aunt Martha invited him to supper. What they are doing is visiting to see how they get along, if they want to court.”
“And if they do like each other in that way, will they start going to singings and work frolics together?” Grace asked.
Miriam shrugged. “I doubt it. Both of them are older, and Caleb’s been married before. I suppose the first thing people will notice is him driving her home from church services. And Caleb will keep visiting her at home.”
“When Samuel was courting Anna,” Rebecca said, “they went to a taffy pulling she wanted to go to, so he took her. What a disaster. Of course, the age difference isn’t so great between Caleb and Dorcas. But neither of them seem the kind to want to go to young people’s frolics.”
Grace wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t seem very romantic.”
“It’s complicated.” Miriam knotted the loosening ties of her blue wool scarf under her chin. “Respect, devotion to the faith and an ability to help the partner. That’s what’s important.” She smiled. “As Grossmama always says, ‘Kissing don’t last. Cooking do.’”
“Maybe it’s best I didn’t become Amish,” Grace said thoughtfully. “I married John because I loved him—because I couldn’t live without him. Respect and friendship alone wouldn’t be enough for me.”
And maybe not for me, either, Rebecca thought. I think I’d rather stay an old maid than settle for a man I couldn’t love with my whole heart.
* * *
“Are you almost done?” Amelia pleaded from the bale of hay where Caleb had placed her a half hour ago.
Caleb shook his head. “Just a little while yet. Stay where you are and play with your baby.”
They’d been on the way to Dover to the hardware store, but he’d stopped at Reuben’s farm long enough to see if the volunteers had come by for morning milking and chores. They had, but Martha had seen him and asked if he’d clean out the horse stall. By the time he finished, he’d be in no shape to be seen in public. He couldn’t help wondering when Reuben had last cleaned it.
Caleb looked down at his shoes. They’d need a good polish before tomorrow’s worship. Had he known he’d be pressed into service, he’d have brought along his muck boots.
“Dat, I’m hungry.”
“You’re not hungry. You had soup and a chicken sandwich before we left home.” Rebecca never left on Friday afternoon without leaving food for the weekend. He didn’t know how he and Amelia had managed without her. She didn’t just cook and clean and look after Amelia, she was tackling bigger projects, too. She was working her way through the moving boxes that had been scattered throughout the house, unpacking his life and putting it in order.
“Dat, I want to go. I’m tired of sitting here. And I need you to tie Baby’s bonnet strings.”
Caleb emptied another hayfork full of dirty straw and manure into the wheelbarrow. “Not now, Amelia. I’m working.” The soft rag doll that Dinah had made for her was his daughter’s greatest treasure. She spent hours taking the doll’s clothes off, putting them on and trying to tie the tiny bonnet strings. Usually, he ended up tying them for Amelia, but in minutes, she’d have them untied and the bonnet off again.
“I can tie them for her,” came a thin voice from the shadows.
Startled, Caleb almost dropped his pitchfork. Dorcas. He hadn’t known that anyone else was in the barn. She was standing only a few feet away. How long had she been watching him and how had she gotten behind him without him seeing her?
“Ne,” Amelia whined. “I want Dat to do it.” His daughter clutched the doll and bonnet against her chest. “I want Dat!”
“Amelia,” he chastised. She was never on her best behavior around Dorcas or her family. And to Dorcas’s credit, she’d shown more patience than was warranted. “Let Dorcas fix it for you.”
“Ne. Don’t want her to play with my doll. It’s mine.”
Caleb thrust his pitchfork into the muck. “Behave yourself, child. That’s no way to talk to Dorcas.”
“Mam says she’s spoiled.” Dorcas leaned on the upright post at the corner of the stall. “She says it’s to be expected. Her having no mother to teach her right.”
“Do so have a mother!” Amelia flung back. “Rebecca says so. My Mam is in heaven!”
Caleb frowned at her, and Amelia’s face crumpled.
“My mother says...” Dorcas began.
Her shrill monotone grated on his ears and her next words were lost to him as he stuck the pitchfork into another clump of rotting straw.
I should be ashamed of myself, he thought. Dorcas isn’t responsible for the nature of her voice anymore than the color of her eyes. She had nice eyes. They were her best feature. There was nothing flashy about her face or hair, but that wasn’t what a man should be looking for in a wife.
Dorcas came from a respectable family, and she was modest and hardworking, according to Martha.
If Dorcas lacked somewhat in her cooking skills, that would come in time. Amelia’s mother hadn’t been the world’s best cook when he’d first married her, but in time she’d improved. It was unfair to compare Dorcas’s chicken stew to the one that Rebecca had put on his table this week. Rebecca had tucked it neatly into a golden brown piecrust, and it had been so good that he’d finished the last slice of it for breakfast this morning. Maybe, if he suggested it, Dorcas could ask Rebecca for her recipe.
Dorcas was kind to Amelia, and if Amelia was slow to respond, it was her nature. She spent every weekday with Rebecca; it was only natural that she had become so attached to her. Amelia was constantly telling him of new games Rebecca had taught her, and silly songs they’d sung.
Caleb almost groaned out loud. What was wrong with him? Why was he thinking of Rebecca Yoder when he should be paying
attention to the very suitable young woman standing behind him? Rebecca would never be interested in him. It was Dorcas’s good points he should be concentrating on. On the whole, she was a fine prospect for marriage. She was clean, reasonably intelligent and she seemed interested in him. And if she had a few minor traits that rubbed him the wrong way, doubtless she could find plenty of fault with him, as well.
“Caleb.”
“Ya, Dorcas?” He had only a small corner of the stall to go. If he finished up quickly, he might have time to go home, change and still get to the hardware store before the afternoon got too late.
“My mother is out of sugar and cinnamon. She asked if you could take me to Byler’s to get some. With Dat being so poorly, we can’t get to the store.”
“You don’t drive the horse and buggy?” He shouldn’t have said that, but the words just came out before he thought.
“Ne. Not me. I’m afraid of horses. Dat always drives. Mam does, sometimes, when we go someplace without him, but she has a sore throat. She doesn’t want to go out of the house. And she needs cheese for casserole. For the midday meal. At meeting tomorrow. Mam says...”
“Ya, I can take you.” She kept talking while he concentrated on the last of the stall. He would spread fresh straw when he was finished. The hardware store errand could wait. He probably had enough nails to finish the pigpen anyway. If Dorcas could take Amelia into Byler’s with her, the child would be satisfied that she didn’t get to go to Dover today.
“...eat supper with us tonight,” Dorcas was saying. “I made snapper soup. We had a big old turtle that Dat caught in the pond. He put it in a barrel and we fed it table scraps and corn and...”
Caleb stiffened. Snapper soup? Snapping turtle? His stomach turned over. “Thank your mother,” he said. “But I’ve stuffed peppers waiting at home. Another time, Dorcas.”
He couldn’t abide snapper soup. The bishop’s wife had served it at the first meal he’d shared with them, and he’d forced it down and been nauseous all that night. It was a little embarrassing, being a man who didn’t like the strong tastes of some traditional Amish foods.
