Smicksburg Tales 1,2 & 3 (Amish Knitting Circle, Amish Friends Knitting Circle & Amish Knit Lit Cirlce ~ Complete Series: 888 pages for Granny Weaver Lovers and 30+ Amish Recipes

by Karen Anna Vogel

  She heard buggy wheels on snow and looked out the window, down to the driveway. Roman had come to pick her up for another special meal. She didn’t want to go because she felt nervous around Roman, but the girls were so insistent, making cards inviting her. Their love touched her…after church on Sunday they practically begged her to come to dinner before knitting circle. Amish kinner were taught not to plead, but she couldn’t help but say yes to the three smiling girls.

  She heard a knock at the side door and ran down the steps to answer it, letting her daed rest. Since the weather was harsh, fewer people came to the store, and seeing him relax, reading a book by the woodstove, was a calming sight. His MS seemed to have stopped in its tracks by the experimental drugs he started taking, but the doctors said he needed less stress.

  She opened the door to see Roman, and as usual, she felt uneasy. Why? She felt at ease with Amos. “Come in, Roman. You can talk to my daed while I get my cape and bonnet.”

  “I’d like that,” Roman said, eyes heavy on her.

  She went to get her black bonnet and cape off their pegs by the front door, and heard her daed warmly greet Roman. He was happy she was going to dinner at Roman’s house, and she could tell by the tone in his voice he hoped they’d be a couple again. But it was ages ago that they dated…a wife ago for Roman. He met Abigail during their short break-up and quickly forgot her. So, he never really loved her.

  When she entered the living room, she was surprised her daed was talking about Lancaster, as if he wanted to live there. Amos had told her in letters how much more progressive they were, adopting things into their Ordnung that would never be allowed in Smicksburg. An enclosed buggy her daed would like; he got out so little in the winter, but if he had a warm buggy, he’d be out and about. It was also warmer in Lancaster, usually by ten degrees. Her daed’s joints might do better there.

  ~*~

  “Their buggies have turn signals like the English?” Roman gasped. “Why?”

  “Well, Lizzie’s friend says that there’s so much traffic, cars need to know when to slow down. I’d say that’s too much traffic to pay attention, if you ask me,” Jonas said, leaning forward. “I can see why Amos wants to find land out here. Prices are cheaper and we live more rural-like.”

  Lizzie looked at Roman’s red face. When her daed mentioned Amos by name it seemed to turn the color of tomatoes. Why was her daed talking about Amos right in front of Roman? Was he trying to judge his reaction? Did he want to see if Roman really cared for her?

  “Yep, that Amos really seems like a nice man. And not one of those widowers who wants to find a housecleaner and wife, all wrapped up in one,” Jonas said.

  Lizzie put her hand on her heart. Why was her daed egging Roman on so?

  Roman cleared his throat. “I don’t see how any widower could marry a woman he didn’t love. He could easily get help within the community for his kinner.” He looked over to Lizzie. “Does Amos have a mamm to help with his kinner, like I do?”

  “Jah, I believe so, but she doesn’t live by him, like your mamm does you.”

  Roman nodded to Jonas. “Well, I best get Lizzie over to my place. My mamm’s watching the girls now.”

  He opened the side door and took Lizzie’s hand. “The driveway’s icy. Best hold on to me.”

  Lizzie took his hand, a hand she hadn’t held in a decade. Memories of their courting days rushed through her mind. As she stepped out on the driveway, she had to cling to Roman’s arm, and more memories flooded her mind. How he used to hold her…

  She was relieved when she was settled in the buggy, glad he had a hot brick under the buggy robe. As the wind wisped snow into her face, she thought again of the enclosed buggies she saw in Lancaster. Maybe bring up having enclosed buggies when the Gmay votes on the Ordnung?

  Roman got under the buggy robe and she felt the warmth of his body next to her. She tried not to think of the times they’d snuggled on winter rides, but her mind seemed to be traveling through time, as if it were yesterday.

  “The girls are awfully excited to have you over,” Roman said, looking over at her. “You have snowflakes on your eyelashes.”

  He told her to close her eyes, and took his thumb and swiped the snow off her eyes. More memories….more desire to want to hold Roman. She turned her head. “I’m fine, really.”

  He took her hand under the buggy robe and steered the horse with one hand. “So, when’s your friend coming?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Will he stay at your house?”

  “Nee, Melvin offered to let him stay with him. Amos doesn’t want to give the appearance of evil.”

  He tightened his grip on her hand and for some reason she didn’t pull away. “Lizzie, you aren’t seriously thinking of courting this Amos, are you?”

  What could she say? The truth. Yes, Roman needed to hear the truth. “Jah, I am. He’s a goot man.”

  He slowed the buggy to a walk. “And how do you feel about courting me?”

  What was wrong with her? She felt like kissing Roman. He put his hand on her cheek and she turned to him, eyes locking. “Roman, when I’m with you, well, the past gets mixed up with the present. Are we living in the past?”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  She couldn’t tell him of the emotions she was feeling. Emotions she thought were dead, but were now being resurrected, much to her surprise. “Remember our buggy rides in the snow…down deserted back roads? Such happy times. Memories from the past can trick us though…”

  Roman drew closer. “I thought that once, but since I found the letter you hid, my feelings for you came back and won’t go away.”

  Lizzie remembered what the counselor said about forgiveness and how it releases happy memories. How bitterness blinds us to them. It dawned on her that anytime a man got too close, memories of her attacker came, but not this time. She felt joy rise up from within her. “Roman, I think I’m free.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Y-You know about me being… attacked. Since that day, when any man took my hand, or got too close, memories of the assault would come back.” She grabbed his hand with both of hers. “See, I can hold your hand and feel clean…not ashamed.”

  Roman’s eyes moistened and then a tear slid down his cheek, and then he encircled her in his arms. “I’m so sorry for not helping you.”

  She remembered something about Roman she’d forgotten, too. How tender and compassionate he was. Why did she hide that letter years ago and not just give it to him? It wasn’t one of their silly love letters to hide in a woodpecker hole, but serious. “Roman, it wasn’t your fault. I should have handed you the letter. So silly of me. You’re a goot man and I should have trusted you.”

  Roman gasped for air and his whole body shook. She’d never heard a man cry like this before. “Lizzie, don’t leave me…”

  “Leave you? “

  “Don’t see Amos.”

  The sun peaked through the overcast sky. Live each short hour with God and the long years will take care of themselves. “My daed says when he fears his MS might be getting worse, he gives each hour to God, and doesn’t worry about the future. Let’s live for God and see where He takes us…slowly…”

  “And you’ll do the same with Amos?”

  She remembered how insecure Roman was as a teen. Always afraid she might find someone else. She couldn’t help but smile. The teenage boy in him was just below the surface. The Roman she always knew was still there, but she hadn’t seen him in a long while. Not until she forgave her assailant.

  He released her and made the buggy move faster. “Since you didn’t answer, I take it you’ll be giving Amos a chance, even though you hardly know him.”

  Lizzie sighed. “He has his ticket bought and it’s all arranged. Like I said, let’s just give each hour to God and wait for His direction. I don’t want to move too hastily.”

  ~*~

  Granny adjusted her binoculars to see the red-tailed hawk in detail. “J
eb, write down five red-tailed hawks.”

  “Are you sure? We need this count to be accurate.”

  “I’ve been counting birds for Audubon for how many years? I’m sure.”

  “Don’t have to get your dander up, Deborah. Need to watch yourself.”

  Granny put her binoculars in her lap. “What are you trying to say…old man?”

  Jeb sat down in the rocker next to her. “Well, the bishop’s getting concerned. You’re being seen in that little red car too much, and not out of necessity.”

  “Marge and Joe are looking at farms. You know that. And you’re in the car half the time too, helping Joe see what needs fixed.”

  “But you’re with her more…”

  “Ach, she picks me up before going to check on Maryann. Remember, we’re paying for her nursing skills.”

  “Well it’s not the only thing the bishop’s concerned about.”

  “Jebediah Weaver. Spill the beans.”

  “The bishop thinks your Jane Austen books aren’t goot. Wants to take up a vote to ban them. Asked us to go over Friday to his place for a chat.”

  “His wife reads Jane Austen, too. Did he actually say that?” Granny put her head back on the rocker, trying to calm herself.

  “Jah. He wants his wife to get rid of hers, too. Says Austen has romance all wrong, like I say. It’s not a feeling, but a commitment.”

  “How about Pennsylvania Field and Stream?

  “What about it?”

  “Well, you’re addicted to it. Isn’t that wrong, too? If Jane Austen is banned, then fishing magazines should be too.”

  Jeb let out a chuckle. “It won’t happen.”

  Granny tried not to say what she was thinking, and bit her lower lip. The bishop reads fishing magazines too, so of course they wouldn’t be banned. “I could bring it up for the vote. I’m sure lots of women would vote against those fishing and hunting magazines.”

  Jeb put his hand on his heart. “You’d do that to me? Deborah, what would I read all winter?”

  Granny heard Jack bark and saw a buggy coming down the driveway. It was Roman and Lizzie and she was glad for the distraction, being upset with Jeb and needing to cool off. The girls ran to the window and squealed with delight. They were so proud of the roast they helped their daed cook. The cards they made for Lizzie, filled with words of love and encouragement, would surely help Lizzie heal.

  “Oma, can we go over to our house now? We want to see Lizzie,” Jenny asked.

  Granny wanted Roman and Lizzie to have more time alone. “You girls need to clean up after making a craft. The oak table needs scrubbed down.”

  “But we were careful,” Millie said. “No glue got on the table.”

  Granny felt Tillie’s hand slip into hers. “Oma, I’ll help you clean.”

  Granny bent down to hug the sweet girl. “Ach, what am I thinking. You laid down newspapers and the table’s spotless. Just make sure you put all your things away in the craft drawer before you go home.”

  Jack barked with a fury and darted down the driveway out of sight. Soon a red car could be seen and Granny clenched her fists. Marge drove too fast, and the way Jack chased cars, he might get hit. When the car slid to a stop, she saw that Marge wasn’t the only one in the car. She’d brought Lavina over. Wasn’t Lavina supposed to stay with Maryann?”

  She watched as Lavina got out of the car and ran up the steps. Jeb met her on the porch and embraced her. Despite her being irritated with Jeb, Granny couldn’t help but melt over the affection her husband showed this dear girl who was starving for love. Give her wings again…give her wings like an eagle, Lord.

  Marge charged through the door and came to embrace Granny. “We made an offer on the farm down the road, and Jacob accepted it.” She jumped up and down with Granny in her arms. “I am so excited!”

  “I knew that farm was the one for you. So Jacob agreed on a price?”

  “Jah, I mean yes,” Marge giggled. “I’m starting to sound Amish already. And he’ll hold a land contract with no interest. He insisted, even though Joe didn’t think it was fair, with the cost of living going up.”

  “Well, some Amish don’t believe in charging interest. And we try to give fair prices, too.”

  “I showed Lavina the farm. Jacob said it was alright to just walk inside. She’s a nice girl. Said she dreams of having a family and living on a farm someday.” Marge turned to look out the window. “She’s still out there talking to your Jeb. She’s real attached to him, huh? “

  “Jah, she can talk to Jeb. He’s like a daed to her.”

  “When’s she going home? She told me about her daed and I’m concerned.”

  “About what?”

  “He seems too mean. Maybe it needs to be reported.”

  “To who?”

  “Child Protective Services, of course.”

  “We don’t let the government get involved in our problems. We solve them ourselves.”

  Marge froze with her mouth gaping. “What?”

  “We solve our problems within the community.”

  “But what if there’s abuse and a child needs taken out of the home.”

  “Lavina isn’t a boppli. A baby. She can leave if she wants to.”

  “But she’s still a minor.”

  “A minor what?”

  Marge sat down at the kitchen table. “She’s under eighteen. Her daed can demand she stay at home, I think.”

  “Well, we don’t believe in that either. When a teen wants to leave at sixteen, they can. They’re grown up by then.”

  Marge shook her head. “Well, I’m not Amish, and if that girl tells me one more thing about her father, I’m reporting it.”

  ~*~

  Granny made twice as many pies last Saturday, knowing she needed a few to take to Maryann’s and to serve at the knitting circle. She touched the pies to see if they’d defrosted. Keeping them outside in a cooler doubled as a second icebox. Satisfied they were thawed, she placed them in the oven to warm up. She heard the side door open, and Jeb appeared.

  “Deborah. I don’t want you fretting over going to see the bishop on Friday.”

  “I’m not. I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.”

  “I’m just afraid I worried you. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Me too. Did you have a goot talk with Lavina?”

  Jeb walked over to the kitchen table and collapsed on a chair. “She’s real special. Those little freckles on her nose are sure to catch her a man.”

  “She’s a pretty thing. Maybe the twins got their red hair from her.”

  “She has brown hair.”

  Granny shook her head. “It’s called auburn, dark red, almost brown. But she’s pretty on the inside and that’s what counts all the more.”

  “I asked her to come to your knitting circle. She’s over at Romans.”

  “She didn’t leave with Marge?”

  Jeb shifted. “I said I’d take her over to Maryann’s after you’re all done knitting. I’m telling you, she’s opening up about her daed, and I feel I need to get to the bottom of what’s wrong. If I have to go up to Troutville and talk to their bishop, I will.” Jeb pounded the table with his fist.

  Granny spun around. “Jeb, we need to cast her on God. He cares for her more than you.” She sat across from him. “I don’t know how Ella will act around Lavina.”

  Jeb patted her hand. “Don’t worry. We’re talking about Ella. She’s a goot Christian woman.”

  Granny went over to her birding journal. “Birding is goot for the nerves. I look forward to these four days all year. So cold out that the birds have to come to the feeders, and we have over twenty-seven different types of birds. Can you believe it?”

  “And we’re not done yet.” Jeb scratched the back of his neck. “If you try to ban fishing and hunting magazines, someone might want to ban birding ones too.”

  Granny got up and hugged Jeb around the neck. “old man, you’re the one fretting. Ach, I would never try to ban your magazi
nes. I was just upset.”

  Jeb grabbed her and she sat on his lap. The side door opened and Lizzie and Roman appeared. Granny noticed Lizzie had a glow about her, like she had in her youth…when she was in love with Roman. Praise be.

  Roman put his hand over his eyes, laughing. “We’ll come back later.”

  Jeb squeezed Granny tighter. “Son, life’s short, so I aim to get as many hugs from your mamm as possible.”

  Roman looked at Lizzie. “He’s right, jah?”

  Lizzie nodded. “My daed wishes he’d spent more time with my mamm, and not out in the barn.”

  The door opened again, blowing in a cold chill. Ella and Becca stepped in. “Ach, it’s so cold.”

  Granny went over to collect their capes and bonnets. “Where’s Ruth? And Becca, aren’t you needed at home?”

  “Ruth insisted on taking care of Maryann tonight, and Becca’s been too cooped up,” Ella said, putting her arm around Becca. “Anyhow, she’s fifteen today and needs a birthday treat.”

  Granny hugged Becca. “Happy Birthday. I’m so glad you came. Just worried about your mamm. How’s she feeling?”

  “Nervous about getting radiation therapy tomorrow, but she has lots of ginger on hand for nausea. Dan Miller said it helps.”

  “Well, I’m sure he’s right. Best herbalist in town.”

  Granny spied Lavina come to the door and shot up a casting off prayer. How would Ella feel around the biological mamm of her twins? How she reacted would tell her a lot. Granny went to Lavina and asked for her wraps. She looked over at Ella, the color in her cheeks fading. Ella darted into the living room and immediately started to knit.

  “Ella, want to have some pie first?” Granny asked.

  “Nee, no appetite.”

  Fannie appeared in the doorway. “Hi everyone.” She looked over at Lizzie. “You look mighty happy. How was your dinner?”

  Lizzie put her hands on her cheeks to hide her blushing. “Wunderbar goot. The girls made a roast, of all things. They went on and on about peeling carrots and potatoes and putting it all in the oven with the meat.” Lizzie patted her stomach. “I think I gained some weight.”