An Unlikely Amish Match

by Vannetta Chapman

  “And left her for an Englisch girl. I saw them in South Bend the other day.”

  “At the college?”

  “Ya. They looked...um...close. Arms wrapped around each other. Kissing in public.” Deborah made a wide-eyed, somewhat disgusted expression.

  “Your dat is still consulting at the college?”

  “He is. Their agriculture students want to know all about our Plain and simple ways.”

  Which caused them both to laugh.

  “Perhaps they should come help in the fields—then they’d really understand.”

  “They’re actually going to do that sometime in the next few weeks.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’re going to have Englischers traipsing around in your fields?”

  “We are.”

  “Maybe we should send Micah over. He seems to speak their language.”

  They’d made it to the corner of the property where Mose King had made a bench out of a felled tree. After checking that there were no critters hiding beneath it, they both sat down and studied the scene in front of them.

  Most of the women and a good number of the men were spread out in chairs under the trees.

  Boys of all ages were playing baseball, with a few of the men standing on the edge of the ball field, providing sideline advice.

  The younger children were in a play area that Mose had made for his own children. It looked like a school playground. There was a seesaw, a swing set and even a sandbox that he kept covered with a tarp when it wasn’t being used.

  Susannah thought that playground was a sign of something—thoughtfulness, adoration, maybe devotion. “Mamm thinks Mose would make a gut husband.”

  “I’m sure he would...for someone his own age.”

  “Ya, my sentiments exactly.”

  “That’s another thing I heard about Micah. He was apparently dating an older woman—who he dumped, and according to the grapevine, that wasn’t the first relationship that he broke off for no reason.”

  “There’s always a reason.”

  “I suppose.”

  “It’s kind of sad that we’re so interested in everything he did wrong there.”

  “Are you defending him?”

  “Not at all. It’s only that... Well, Mamm reminded me that everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t they?”

  Deborah pulled her skirt up an inch or so and proceeded to pull stickers from her socks. “I guess. The only thing is that I’d rather these people who need a fresh start get it somewhere else.”

  Which pretty accurately mirrored Susannah’s thoughts, though somehow, spoken out loud, they sounded rather judgmental and unfair.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I guess I was thinking that what Micah Fisher does in Maine is his own business, but what he does here... Well, here he stands to hurt other people with his actions.”

  “Meaning what?”

  Deborah shrugged and pretended to look for something in her purse. Susannah put her hand on top of the bag and left it there until her friend looked up.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Apparently Micah sneaked out of his house on Friday night and met up with Caroline Byers.”

  “I have trouble believing that’s true. He’s been here less than a week. How could he—”

  “I heard it from Caroline herself. She said it was harmless. Said they just happened to be downtown at the same time to hear a local band, but Betty heard them talk about meeting up again on Thursday.”

  Susannah had at least a dozen questions, but none of them really mattered. Most of them were none of her business. She settled for asking, “Her parents let her do that?”

  “Nein. She sneaked out. Are you even paying attention?”

  “I am now.” Susannah jumped up, crossed her arms and paced back and forth in front of Deborah. “Caroline is young and impressionable. I can see how she’d fall for someone like Micah in a second, but I’m not sure that’s a gut idea.”

  “Finally.”

  “Finally what?”

  “Finally you’re paying attention and concerned. I mean, the guy practically lives at your house. Maybe you could say something to him.”

  “I’m not sure that I could, or even that I should.”

  Deborah began to fiddle with her kapp strings, something she only did when she was holding back.

  “What else?”

  “Well...one of the boys claimed they saw him smoking.”

  “He doesn’t smell like smoke, and I should know... He’s eaten with us three times now.”

  “There was also talk of his carrying a flask in the back pocket of those blue jeans and...you know...taking a sip now and again.”

  Susannah flopped back down beside Deborah. “I don’t know if I’m more aggravated about the gossip—”

  “Unless it’s true.”

  “—or Micah’s behavior.”

  That sat between them a few minutes until Susannah realized they needed to start back to help put out a snack for the children. It was nearly three in the afternoon and some of them would be going down for a nap soon.

  They were halfway toward the main group when Deborah asked, “Are you going to talk to your dat?”

  “Nein. He wouldn’t want to hear about it unless it was something I saw myself. He has no patience for gossip.” She turned abruptly so that Deborah nearly bumped into her. “If anyone else talks to you about Micah, about his behavior, you tell them to come to my dat directly. Dat will speak to him, but only if the report is a firsthand account.”

  “Okay. I should have done that to begin with. I guess I was a bit stunned by it all.”

  “Understandable, but now that we know about his reputation we need to take steps to protect our freinden.”

  “What kind of steps?”

  “Well, I can keep a closer eye on him when he’s at our farm. I can certainly watch for the smoking and drinking.”

  “I doubt that he’s likely to do either of those things around your dat.”

  “But there would be signs, and I just don’t...” She looked toward the picnic tables, where she should be helping. Instead, she tugged on Deborah’s arm and pulled her in the opposite direction. “It’s just that I don’t want him to be unfairly judged. He seems like a gut guy, just a bit lost.”

  “Reminds me of my bruder when he was on his rumspringa.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Only Elias was seventeen at the time.”

  “And Micah is twenty-five.”

  A shout rose up from the baseball field, where none other than Micah had apparently hit a home run and was jogging around the bases to the cheers of all watching.

  Susannah pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. After taking a deep breath and letting it slowly out, she tried to shake off the feeling of trepidation. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and so far at least, Micah had done nothing against their Ordnung—at least nothing she’d witnessed.

  “We’ll give him a fair chance but keep our eyes on him.”

  “Sounds reasonable.” Deborah nodded so hard that her kapp strings bounced.

  “And above all else, we’ll make sure that he doesn’t set his ball cap at any of the girls in our group.”

  “Like Betty.”

  “Or Caroline or any of the other girls we’ve grown up with. The ones who aren’t married... Well, some of them are too quick to fall in with a guy.”

  “Their biological clocks are going ticktock.”

  “Exactly.”

  Deborah tucked her arm through Susannah’s. “The good part is that he’s not planning on staying, from what I’ve heard.”

  “He said as much to me, as well. Hopefully he can serve his time at his daddi’s and then go hom
e to break hearts.”

  “Gut idea. We don’t need any of that sort of drama around here.”

  Which echoed what Susannah had been thinking. Personally, she’d experienced enough tragedy in the last few years with her cancer diagnosis, treatment and the breakup with Samuel. She knew firsthand what it was like to have your dreams ripped away, to have your heart shredded to the point that it felt raw. If she had anything to do with it, that would not be happening to her friends. Even if it meant she had to take matters into her own hands.

  * * *

  The following Thursday, Micah had finished shoeing a dappled gray mare under the watchful gaze of Thomas. Then the bishop had been called off to visit with one of the old-timers who had taken a turn for the worse, and before Micah knew it, he was being babysat by Susannah.

  “I can take the man’s money and put it in the box.”

  “What man?”

  “The man who owns the mare.”

  “Yes, but you don’t even know the man’s name. Mr. Hochstettler has been bringing his horses here since I was a kind. Dat likes for our customers to have personal service.”

  “They’re Amish. Where else are they going to go to have their horses cared for?”

  “Not the point, according to Dat. The point is that we treat every customer as if we value their business—which we do.”

  “Fine. I didn’t remember the man’s name, but you could tell me that and leave.”

  “Do you know the mare’s name?”

  “Nein and what difference does that make? Are you going to tell me that the mare needs to feel valued, too?”

  “Of course she needs to be valued. Have you ever owned a mare?”

  “Never needed to. I had my parents’ buggy horses to use in Maine, and I have my grandparents’ here.”

  “But one day you’ll be a man with your own family and your own horses.” Susannah had been grooming the mare, which definitely did not fall under the services of shoeing a horse in Micah’s opinion. She stopped what she was doing and pointed the brush at him. “When you have your own horses, you’ll understand why it’s important to appreciate them and treat them with respect.”

  Micah rolled his eyes and then started laughing. He couldn’t help it.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Just say it.”

  “You couldn’t even see over that horse if you weren’t standing on a crate, and yet you’re lecturing me.”

  “What does being short have to do with anything?”

  Micah raised his hands in surrender, but he continued to laugh. Most days Susannah aggravated him, especially when she reminded him of his nagging sisters. But then, other times, he caught a glint of mischievousness in her eyes, and he wondered what else was going on underneath her perfectly starched kapp.

  “Say, I’m thinking about asking Caroline Byers to this weekend’s spring festival in town. What do you think?”

  “Terrible idea.” Susannah resumed brushing the mare, but much more vigorously.

  “Why’s it terrible?”

  Now her lips were forming a tight, straight line, as if they’d been glued together. He knew that expression well enough.

  “Just say it. What’s the problem?”

  “She’s too young for you, that’s what!” Susannah brushed the mare so vigorously that it turned its large muzzle toward her. “Sorry, Smokey.”

  “Smokey?”

  “That’s her name. If you’d bothered to find out, you would know that.”

  “You seem awfully cranky all of a sudden.”

  “I’m not cranky!” She jumped off the crate, cleaned the horse brush with a metal tool and slammed it onto the tool shelf. Next she picked up the currying comb, which looked somewhat dangerous the way she was brandishing it in his direction. “Pick a girl your age, Micah.”

  “Wow. Okay. Well, I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess I see your point. How about Betty Gleich?”

  Susannah closed her eyes as if praying for patience and shook her head so hard he feared her kapp would pop off.

  “What’s wrong with Betty? I know for a fact she’s over twenty-one.”

  “She’s twenty-two, and she just went through a rather rough breakup.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Did you not say only twenty minutes ago that you only had—and I quote—one hundred and seventy days left in this awful place?”

  “Sounds like something I might have said.”

  “Obviously you hate it here.”

  “You don’t understand. If you’d been to Maine, then you’d appreciate how much more beautiful it is than your much-loved Indiana. If you could experience the hunting, the fishing, the wildness of the place. It’s just—”

  “You’d be in your precious Maine right this minute if you hadn’t been banished.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Again—your word, not mine.”

  “Fine.” He named off four other perfectly eligible girls, all of whom Susannah disapproved of him dating for the most ridiculous reasons and sometimes for no reason she’d share at all.

  His mounting frustration was threatening to get the better of him. He tried to mentally order himself to calm down, but the way Susannah was frowning at him was not helping matters. “What is your problem?”

  “My problem?”

  “You know, I don’t need your permission to date someone, but now I’m curious. What’s your beef?”

  “Beef?”

  “Apparently I’m not gut enough for any of the gals in your district.”

  “It’s not a question of whether you’re gut enough for them.”

  “Then what?”

  “You’re leaving, that’s what. You’re leaving, and they’ll get attached to you, and then it will hurt them when you go.”

  “I’m not proposing to them, Susannah. I’m asking them out on a buggy ride.”

  “One thing leads to the other.”

  Micah threw up his hands and walked out of the farrier shop. The sky was dark and brooding, a perfect reflection of his mood. Well, Susannah Beiler was not the boss of him. He could ask out whomever he liked.

  He stomped back in to tell her that and caught her with her cheek pressed against the mare, a look of utter desolation in her eyes. Now he felt like a heel, and he didn’t even know what he’d done.

  “Hey...it’s not that bad.”

  She stood up straighter, gave the mare one last pat and returned the crate to its place along the wall.

  “You can’t expect a guy to hang around for six months and not go on a single date. Surely you can see that.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because it’s not natural.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being alone, Micah.”

  “Maybe not for you, but I haven’t decided I want to be single the rest of my life—apparently you have.”

  “This discussion isn’t about me.”

  Now her chin rose as if she needed to defend herself—oh, the many faces of Susannah Beiler. If she ever came down from her high horse, she might be an interesting person to get to know.

  “Look, I’m sorry.” He yanked off his hat and stared at it—a straw Amish hat. Why couldn’t he wear his ball cap? Glancing up, he realized Susannah was waiting. He forced himself to refocus on the problem at hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you, but you’re so...”

  “What?”

  “Serious. You’re so serious, and life is just waiting for us to enjoy it.” In three long strides, he was at her side. Grasping her by the shoulders, he marched her toward the open barn door. “See that? The clouds and the rain and the turbulence?”

  “I see it.”

  “But behind all of that are more things that we can’t begin to imagine—sunshine and new experience
s and memories waiting to be made. Life is out there, Susannah. We’re supposed to be living it.”

  “And you can’t do that without dragging some poor girl along with you?”

  “Why should I?”

  Susannah rubbed at her forehead as if she’d quite suddenly been slapped with the worst headache imaginable. Finally, she pulled in a deep breath and turned to stare up into his face.

  “Then take me.”

  “Huh?”

  “If you must take someone on these jaunts around our little town, take me.”

  “But...you don’t even like me.”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  “No, I think that is the point.”

  “You’re not looking for love, Micah. We both know that. You’re looking for a buddy to pal around with, and there are plenty of men your age in our district.”

  “All paired up. I’ve already tried that route.”

  “Then take me, like I said.”

  “You’re going to pal around with me? Miss Susannah Beiler, who does everything by the book? That should be a load of fun.”

  “I do not do everything by the book.”

  “You cleaned the horse brush before putting it on the shelf. Who does that?”

  “You’re changing the subject. Is it a deal or not?”

  “A deal?”

  “I go with you to enjoy life, and you leave the girls in my district alone.”

  “Wow. There’s a proposal that is hard to turn down.”

  “So it’s a deal.”

  She held out her hand, which reminded him of meeting her out on the lane, offering his hand and her refusing it. He couldn’t help laughing as he clasped her small hand in his large one.

  “Fine. It’s a deal, but you’re going to regret it.”

  “I have no doubt that is true.” And then she turned and strode toward the house.

  “I thought you needed to be here when Mr. Hochstettler came by,” he called out to her.

  Rather than bothering to answer, she simply gave him a backward wave.

  So, he was going to date the bishop’s daughter.

  Or rather, not date her.