by Leslie Gould
We did have eggs, but I wanted to sell them at the market.
“Desperation pie,” Mamm said, her old sparkle back for a moment, “for hard times.” She raised her fork toward Bob. “That’s why you’re here, right?”
We all smiled, even Beatrice.
After Leon finished his coffee, he said, “Thank you so much for inviting me in, but I need to be on my way.”
I walked him to the door.
As we stepped outside he smiled at me, seeming in no way put out by another change of plans. In a low voice, he said, “How about if I come by tomorrow?”
“About that,” I said. “Around here we do our courting later in the evening.”
“How late?” he asked.
“Well, after dark.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When I told him good-bye, he leaned toward me. I thought his lips brushed the top of my Kapp, but I couldn’t be sure. Quickly he turned and strode toward the pasture. My heart pounded again, longing to be with him instead of going back inside. Still, there was work that had to be done. When I returned, Beatrice was nowhere in sight, which didn’t surprise me. She hated business talk.
“Leon seems like a nice young man,” Bob said as I sat back down at the table.
“Molly’s courting Mervin Mosier,” Mamm answered, looking down at her hands folded together on the table.
I decided it best not to respond.
“It doesn’t look that way,” Bob said.
I blushed. “The topic we need to discuss is how to save our farm.” I put my hand on top of Mamm’s.
Nan seemed as if she might say something but then didn’t.
“What’s going on?” Bob asked.
“Mervin Mosier would like to marry Molly,” Mamm said. “She agreed to it a few days ago.”
“Mamm, I said I’d think about courting him.”
“And now?” Bob asked.
“It’s complicated,” I said, “but first of all, Hannah still cares for him.”
“Marrying Mervin would save the farm,” Mamm said.
I shook my head. “We don’t know that.”
Bob wrapped his hands around his mug of coffee. “When it comes to businesses, I’ve found that where there’s a will there’s a way,” he said. “A way that works for all involved.”
I nodded.
He turned toward Mamm. “Before we talk business though, Bishop Eicher talked with me about your upcoming CT scan.”
Mamm wrinkled her nose. “I’m fine. A little forgetful recently, but the doctor thinks it’s stress related, considering everything that’s been going on.”
Bob glanced at me.
I shrugged.
“Well,” he said, “we can deal with that when you find out. In the meantime, let’s look at your business.”
An hour later, my head pounded as hard as my heart had earlier. Bob had suggested we expand the market and find a wider distribution for the nursery stock we grew.
My mother sighed. “I’m going to be praying that Molly will agree to marry Mervin so we can work with that wholesaler.”
“Mamm,” I said, “It would still take a few years to turn things around relying on that. We’d have to plant new inventory, wait for the trees and shrubs to grow.” Flowers grew in a season, but nursery stock took several years. We needed something that would bring in income right away.
Nan caught my eye, giving me a sympathetic look.
Bob closed the small notebook he carried with him. He’d taken pages of notes. “I’ll think this over,” he said, “and get back to you with more ideas.”
Mamm thanked him.
Nan and Bob stood and walked to the door. They said good-bye as Bea returned to the kitchen and settled down in the chair next to Mamm.
“I’ll walk out with you,” I said to Nan and Bob.
As I closed the back door behind us, Bob said, “You seem to have a handle on the business.”
“Not really,” I answered. “I had no idea how bad things had gotten.”
“But you know the day-to-day operation,” he said.
“So does Mamm. But I shadowed both my parents all these years, so I understand more of what Dat did.”
“Well, you’ve certainly seen hard times lately,” Bob said. “It’s good to pull in resources and figure out what to do. Of course, once we know how your Mamm’s health is we’ll have a better idea of what the future looks like.”
“Jah . . .” I said, hesitating.
“What is it?” Bob stopped at the edge of the lawn and turned toward me.
“I’ve been friends with Mervin for years—and for an afternoon I thought I might be able to marry him. . . .”
“But now?” Bob asked.
“I know I can’t.”
His eyes were kind as he looked at me. “Because?”
I cleared my throat, trying to speak.
Bob’s voice was low but clear. “Leon?”
“Maybe,” I whispered.
He smiled. “It’s clear there’s something between the two of you.”
Nan shot Bob a look—subtle, to be sure. Then she said, “We’re praying for all of you. It might take some time, but things will work out.”
Tears stung my eyes, taking me by surprise. “Jah,” I said, but I said it out of habit. For once I didn’t feel it.
“Do you think your Mamm’s urgency that you marry is part of her possible illness?” Nan touched my arm.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “She’s never acted like this before. I know she’s stressed, so it could be that. Or perhaps something else . . .”
“All the more reason for her to have the test done,” Bob said. “All of you need to know what you’re looking at.”
I nodded.
“But keep in mind, the Ordnung doesn’t sanction arranged marriages.” He smiled.
“Jah, but it does require that we obey our parents.”
“Your Mamm’s upset right now. No one would expect you to marry someone you don’t love,” Nan said.
“Denki,” I answered.
“In fact, you shouldn’t marry a man if you’re interested in another.”
“Denki,” I said again, appreciating Bob’s affirmation.
We reached their buggy, and Bob took Nan’s hand and helped her up with a tenderness that made my heart leap. A few minutes later they were headed back down the driveway. I watched until the buggy turned onto the highway.
I’d turned to head back toward the house as someone called out, “Miss Molly!” I hurried to where I had a better view of the road. Below me, Leon sat on Storm, waving his hat, his smile spreading across his face at the sight of me.
Chapter
7
I ducked under the arbor, the clematis leaves tugging at my Kapp, and down the path to Leon, my flip-flops slipping on the loose dirt with Love trailing behind me. By the time I reached him, he was in the pasture at the end of the path, off the horse and waiting for me. Storm shied as I approached, but Leon tightened his grip on him and he came to a stop.
“Is everything all right?” Leon asked, touching my forearm with his free hand, sending a jolt through me. Love ran around the pasture, happy to explore where she was forbidden to tread most of the time.
I nodded. The truth was, being next to him had made everything at least better, if not all right.
“Want to go for a ride?” he asked.
For a split second I wanted nothing more than to be riding behind Leon, holding on to his waist, forgetting all my worries. But I hadn’t been on a horse in well over a decade.
The gelding snorted and brushed up against my legs. I stepped away.
“I’m not dressed for it,” I said. Hannah wore a pair of pants when she rode, but I didn’t have anything like that. I’d never had a need. Until now. “Let’s go for a walk instead.” I pointed in the opposite direction of the Mosiers’ farm. “That way.”
“Sure,” Leon said. “I’ll lead Storm.”
I sent Love
back to the house, not wanting to risk her getting hit on the road. As Leon and I strolled toward the highway, Storm nipped at my back. Leon quickly moved him to the other side.
“So you really started riding as a small child?” I asked.
“Yes. One of my first memories is being on the back of a horse, giggling. I was two, maybe three. I was sure I was flying. I still feel that way.”
I shuddered. All those years ago riding a horse had made me feel more like I was going to drown than fly.
He met my eyes. “I feel closest to God when I’m on a horse. It’s when I pray the most.” He smiled. “And praise the most.”
“That’s how I feel with my flowers,” I said.
He nodded, as if thinking over what I’d said. “It’s good to feel that harmony, jah? No matter what brings it.”
I agreed. Although I hadn’t been feeling it as much lately.
The sun hung low in the west. A flock of swallows swooped toward our barn. A cat darted across the highway. On the hill across the way, someone, perhaps Phillip, was walking the fence line of the field that had been plowed the week before.
When we reached the pavement we both started to speak at once.
“So, what—” I said.
Just as he said, “Hannah told me—”
We both laughed. “You go first,” I said.
“No, you.”
“Really, you,” I insisted.
“She said the two of you are planning a camping trip with a group of Youngie.”
“Maybe . . .” I thought she’d still be upset with me but maybe not. “It depends on how things go with my Mamm.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, if you decide to go, I was hoping I could too. Owen thought it would be a good idea to take along a horse.”
My voice brightened. “Really?” Having Leon come along on the trip seemed like a great idea. If bringing a horse meant he could come, I was all for it. Owen owned a truck and a trailer and had a driver he used all the time, so transportation wouldn’t be a problem.
He grinned. “Hannah said you wouldn’t be thrilled with a horse coming along.”
I groaned. Here it came.
“That was all she said, I promise.” His voice was kind. “Except that you’re good at organizing events and the camping trip should be fun. She said everything you plan is fun.”
My heart warmed. “That was sweet of her. And I think it would be great if you—and Lightning—came along.” The camping trip had turned out to be a good idea after all.
“We don’t do a lot of Youngie gatherings in Montana,” Leon said.
“How come?”
“There aren’t that many of us in our settlement. We spend most of our time with the grown-ups.” He paused again and then said, “That’s one of the reasons my parents agreed to me coming out east.”
“So you could meet . . . other Youngie?”
“Jah.” He blushed.
My heart began to gallop again.
He said, “I like you, Molly Zook.”
I couldn’t help but think that speaking so frankly was an effort for him—but he was braving his fears because he cared for me.
We stopped under a willow tree that hung over a wide spot in the road. A car zoomed by in the opposite lane.
I gazed up into his big blue eyes. They were like open doors, welcoming me inside. Sure he was a little shy, but in an inviting way.
Phillip Eicher had talked nonstop, never letting me get a word in. Plus, he was a perfectionist and judged everything, making subtle comments about a field that was plowed wrong or a buggy left unwashed or a horse not properly cared for. Half the time, when he was extra critical, I was afraid to say anything at all, afraid it would be “wrong.” With Leon, I never felt that way. I felt accepted and that he welcomed what I had to say, but at the same time I didn’t feel as if I had to carry the conversation. I never felt as if he were judging me.
“Your eyes are so beautiful,” Leon said, placing his hands on my shoulders.
My face warmed. I’d thought my eyes were blue until I saw his. In comparison, mine were the color of pond water.
“And your smile,” he said. “It’s like you have everything figured out.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Far from.”
Leon continued, “Hannah tells me you’re not the quiet type—but it’s not as if you’re a motormouth either.”
“Hannah’s right,” I said. “I’m not the quiet type.”
“But you’ve been quiet around me.” His hands dropped from my shoulders to his side. “Is it Mervin?”
I shook my head, but then nodded. “It is and it isn’t.”
“You can be honest with me,” he said. “I’d much rather have the truth than have you playing games with me.”
“I don’t play games,” I said. Was that true? “Not with you anyway. I promise.” I took a deep breath. He was too sweet and innocent to play games with. “What I’m going to tell you, I need you not to share. Not even with Hannah.”
“Understood.”
“I already told you our business is having financial problems . . .”
He nodded.
I went on to tell him just how desperate our situation was and that Mamm, quite out of character, had come up with a plan for Mervin and me to marry. “At first I said I’d consider it,” I confessed. “But that was before I met you.”
Leon’s face was solemn. “You don’t intend to marry for love?”
“No, I do.” I put my hands to my warming face, surprised by my embarrassment, and turned away. “I can’t talk about this.”
He put his hands back on my shoulders, pulled me around, and then drew me close, pressing my burning cheek against his chest. I could feel his heart beating beneath his shirt, which comforted me, along with the lingering scent of homemade soap. He held me close and whispered, “So, if we can figure out what to do about your farm, you’ll be free to court me?”
“I think so,” I answered. “But you should know what else is going on with my family.” I told him about Mamm’s upcoming medical test. And then I told them about Beatrice. “I doubt she’ll ever marry,” I said. “I’ll be responsible for her if anything happens to Mamm.”
“Jah, of course,” Leon said. He pulled me close again, and I turned my face up toward his. But instead of kissing me, he traced his finger down my nose, resting it on the tip.
“We should go back,” he said. “I don’t want your Mamm to think any less of me.”
“She doesn’t know I’m with you.” I clung to him, felt his breath on my forehead. “So you’re planning to stay in Lancaster?” I whispered. I didn’t move as I spoke, hoping if I didn’t he wouldn’t either. I wanted to stay the way we were forever—until I heard the clippity-clop of a horse’s hooves coming over the little hill on the highway.
I pulled away from him. Dusk was falling, but not enough to hide us under the willow tree.
The buggy’s lantern was already lit, and its running lights were on. I expected a young couple—and almost laughed when I saw it wasn’t. Nell Yoder and Joseph Koller sat side by side in his courting buggy.
She stared at first and then waved when she recognized me. A puzzled expression followed as they zipped on by. I doubted it would take her long to identify who was with me—and then one phone call to Hannah’s mother, Pauline, would be all it would take for the whole county to know.
At the bottom of our driveway, I said, “I’ll walk back up by myself.”
“Is that best?” Leon asked. “Is that the way it’s done?”
“Sometimes.” It was best for now.
“Could I talk to your Mamm?” he asked. “Or both of us together?”
I shook my head. “Let’s wait until after we know what’s wrong with her.”
Leon put his hand on my shoulder, and I reached up and squeezed it.
“I’ll get going,” he said.
“Be careful,” I answered. Dusk had quickly turned to night.
“Storm’s too ornery for
anything to happen,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t worried about Storm. I was worried about him.
He mounted the horse quickly and with a wave said, “Good night, Miss Molly.”
I waited until he disappeared around the curve of the highway, and then I started my trudge up the hill. An owl hooted in the distance. Then a dog barked—but not Love—followed by our back door slamming.
When I reached the lawn, Beatrice called out to me from the chicken coop. “It wasn’t locked,” she said. “A dog took off with one of our hens.”
“Which one?”
“The Leghorn.”
“Oh no.” A feeling of despondency washed over me. She was one of the new ones. “Where’s Love?”
“I thought she was with you.” Beatrice latched the door.
“Love!” I shouted. And then I called out her name again, this time even louder.
She came running up from the pasture. “Where were you?” I chided when she reached us.
She put her tail between her legs. It was Love’s job to keep stray dogs away from the farm—especially the coop. “You belong here,” I scolded, “not gallivanting after Leon.”
Love bowed her head.
Beatrice frowned with me. “You’re even bossy with the dog.”
“I’m not bossy.”
“You are,” she said. “More now than ever.”
I crossed my arms.
Beatrice gave me a pathetic look and then said, “So where were you?”
“On a walk.”
“With?”
I shrugged.
She exhaled. “Leon.”
I nodded.
Beatrice put one hand on her hip. “He’s not your type.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s too . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “Thoughtful. Introspective. Caring.”
I took a step backward. “What do you mean by that?”
She pursed her lips and then said, “Mervin’s much more your type.”
I shook my head, trying not to laugh. Was Beatrice interested in Leon?
Her eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re not thinking that I’ll marry Mervin if you don’t.”
I shook my head again, no longer amused. “I don’t think any such thing,” I said. “Hannah loves Mervin. She should marry him.”
