It would be like having a chaperone along every time he went to town. He kicked the door of the barn, startling the mare.
“Easy, Smokey. It’s just me, doing a stupid thing to top off another stupid thing.”
One hundred and seventy days.
Somehow, that seemed like an even longer stretch of time than it had an hour ago.
Chapter Four
Susannah went with Micah to hear a music duo on Friday. She had to resist the urge to remind him that they were Amish and their Ordnung strongly discouraged listening to worldly music. But she didn’t have to point that out. Micah taunted her with it as soon as they were in the buggy and driving away from her parents’ farm.
“Guess your mamm and dat didn’t want you to go tonight.”
“Why would you say that?”
“First of all, because it’s with me.”
“For reasons I can’t fathom, my parents have taken a real liking to you.”
“Huh.” He looked pleased for a brief moment, but then he slouched his shoulders and rammed his hat down on his head. “Wish I could say the same for my daddi.”
“I’m sure your daddi likes you.”
“Nein. He might love me. He’s supposed to love me, but like me? I’m pretty sure that isn’t the case.”
“Why would you say that?”
“A guy can tell.”
“Give me an example.”
“Okay.” He pulled the buggy out onto the main road, then glanced at her and smiled, as if he was sure he could prove his point—even though his point was that his own daddi didn’t like him. “I asked him to go fishing, and he said no.”
“Maybe he was tired.”
“I asked him to play checkers, and he said no.”
“Maybe he’s not good at checkers and hates losing.”
“I even asked him if he’d like to walk outside with me and see an owl’s nest that I found.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like owls.”
Micah laughed, stretched like a cat and looked immensely proud of himself. “Enough about my problems, but admit that your parents did not like the idea of your going to an Englisch concert.”
Susannah shrugged and refused to make eye contact.
“Oh, my gosh. You never had a rumspringa!”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. He really was incorrigible. She wasn’t about to explain that she’d been going through her cancer diagnosis and treatment when her friends were enjoying their running-around time.
“I hit the nail on the head. I knew they didn’t approve of your going to hear Jason Wright and the Red River Posse band.”
“What does that even mean? Red River Posse?”
“Well, a posse is a group of individuals who are sort of deputized. You know, they help out the sheriff.”
“And Red River?”
“In Texas.”
“And Jason Wright?”
“I think it’s a play on the word right, like being right, not wrong.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Uh-huh.” Now he did looked pleased. “Just as I thought. You’re going to hate it.”
“I might not hate it. I happen to like music.”
“You do?”
“Sure. I’ve been known to hum a melody as I sew.”
“What kind of melody?”
“Uh...the only kind I know. Songs from church.” She rushed on when he gave her an I-told-you-so look. “That’s not the point. Did you specifically pick this to do tonight because you thought I’d hate it? Are you trying to—” she waved a hand at the passing roadside “—ditch me?”
“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily by saying that I’m trying to ditch you. Uh-uh. I’m not ditching anyone. I’m glad that the bishop’s daughter is having a night out on the town. Besides, you’re my only option if I’m not allowed to date anyone else.”
“I’m not the boss of you, Micah.”
“Exactly. But you know how to put the pressure on, just like a woman.”
“Oh, good grief.”
“So if I’m being pressured not to date other girls in your community, then you have to stick to our deal.”
“Fine by me.”
They rode in silence for a minute, but then Micah returned to his original question. “So, were your parents upset...about where we were going?”
“Nein. I’m a grown woman. I can go wherever I want.”
“But you’ve already joined the church.”
“Which doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy an evening in the park.”
“Uh-huh.”
“If a band happens to be playing, there’s no rule that says I have to cover my ears.”
“I see.”
“It’s not like I have a radio hidden away in my sewing room.”
“Already I’m corrupting you.”
She slapped his arm, but in truth it was a relief to get away from the farm for an evening. It had been a long time since she’d done something that didn’t involve her family or her girlfriends or her sewing. She loved all those things, but it felt good to do something different. Maybe Micah was a bad influence or maybe he could be for some people, but she would be more careful than that. She had decided not to worry about anything this evening.
She actually had fun at the park. There were booths set up where people were selling homemade items like jewelry and T-shirts and even ball caps. Micah put one over her kapp that was pink and had the word Princess spelled out in glitter. Susannah told the woman it was beautiful and carefully placed it back on the table.
The local pizzeria had a booth where they were selling giant slices, but Micah insisted on buying a large pizza. Susannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten two slices of pizza, but when Micah dared her to eat another piece she actually found she was still hungry. Maybe it was from all the walking around they’d done.
And the music wasn’t so bad. They saw a few other Amish families enjoying the fine May evening, though none were actually sitting up front listening to the band like they were. She waved each time she saw someone from their district.
“What’s wrong?” Micah nudged his shoulder against hers. “I rather liked that song. It was all about bull riding, which I saw once in Maine. Maybe you’d prefer love songs.”
“Oh, it’s not that. I waved at the Kings.”
“Mose King? Isn’t he the one you told me was a widower? The guy your mamm wants you to marry? Point him out to me. I want to see if he has hair sprouting out of his ears and uses a cane.”
She slapped his arm. “Not Mose, his brother and sister-in-law—Frank and Ida. I waved when they looked toward us, but they turned away as if they didn’t see me.”
“They probably didn’t see you.” Micah nodded his head to the left and right. “Lots of people here.”
“I guess you’re right.”
He pulled back and widened his eyes in mock surprise. “Excuse me? Could you say that again?”
Which made her laugh, and then she stopped worrying about the Kings.
* * *
Susannah helped her mother clean their house the next day. Since it wasn’t a church weekend, they were having dinner for their closest neighbors—which would include Micah and his grandparents.
“I’m interested to see how they react around him,” she confessed to her mother as she dumped the pail of dirty water on the flower beds.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, according to Micah, his mammi is strict but kind.”
“Abigail is a gut woman.”
“But his daddi is beyond strict. Micah says he doesn’t think his daddi cares for him very much.”
“Why would he say such a thing?”
Susannah shrugged, then plopped down beside her mother in the porch swing. The twins were playi
ng with a set of jacks on the far side of the porch. The sight of their heads nearly touching as they leaned over the jacks and ball made Susannah extremely happy. Was it just two years ago that she was worried she wouldn’t see them grow up to be young girls? Yet, here they were. She was thankful for that, for every day she had with her family.
“Where’d you go?” her mamm asked softly.
“Just thinking about how grateful I am to still be alive.”
“I thank the Lord for that very thing every day when I rise and every evening when I go to sleep. It’s a frightening experience to almost lose a child.”
Susannah cornered herself in the swing so she could study her mother. “I guess it’s easy for me to forget how hard that time was on you.”
“That’s the thing... When tragedy is in our past we do forget about it, but it changes us, Susannah. Just like you are a more serious young woman—a more grateful and mature one—because of your illness. I’m changed, too, as is your dat. We realize more than we ever did before how precious each day is.”
They pushed the swing for a while as the girls’ laughter spilled toward them. Susannah’s mind drifted back toward Micah and his grandfather. As if sensing the turn in her thoughts, her mamm stood up and brushed dirt off her apron. “John Fisher loves Micah. I have no doubt about that. I didn’t know him before the accident...”
“The one where he lost his arm?”
“Ya. I didn’t know him then, but I imagine it changed him just as your experience with cancer changed you. We can never know how a person’s path through this life twists and turns. We only know where they are right now. But John? Well, it’s been hard for him.”
“Because of his disability.”
“That and probably how strangers look at him—no one wants to be pitied.”
“I hated when people looked at me that way—when I was going through the worst of the chemo.”
“John has endured those looks all of his life. People mean well, but sometimes they allow your disability to define you, and none of us want that.” She reached for Susannah’s hand and pulled her off the swing. As they walked inside to prepare lunch, she added a final comment on the subject. “John does love Micah. Abigail has shared with me that they are both worried about the boy, and John intends to do his best by him. Sometimes that’s not an easy thing.”
That evening Micah took her moonlight fishing. As they walked across the back fields to the pond, Susannah felt as light as one of the swallows darting through the last of the sunset. She realized in that moment that she felt happy, really happy for the first time in a long time. Glancing at Micah, she wondered if that had anything to do with him.
But that thought was ridiculous.
It wasn’t Micah that was changing the way she looked at things.
But it could be that doing things she wasn’t used to—going to the park and listening to bands and fishing in the moonlight—was pulling her out of a lingering depression that had started when she’d first been diagnosed.
“Tell me you’re not thinking of changing your mind.” Micah shifted the backpack across his shoulders. “I even brought Mammi’s cookies and coffee.”
“I’m not going to change my mind, but I don’t believe we’ll catch anything. You can’t fish by moonlight.”
“Can, too.”
“How do you know if you’ve caught anything?”
Micah reached into his pocket and pulled something out. As he shook his closed fist, she heard a jingle sound.
“Bells?”
“Yup. Small ones.” He was carrying two fishing poles, and he waved them in front of him. “Plus, I rigged these up with fluorescent line.”
“Now, that was a waste of money.”
“You won’t think so when we catch a lot of fish.”
They didn’t catch a lot of fish, but somehow that didn’t matter too much to Susannah. Sitting on the dock in the moonlight, she thought that she hadn’t ever seen a more beautiful evening. The moonlight resembled the soft glow from a lantern. If she focused, she could just make out the fishing line stretched out from Micah’s poles. He’d attached the bells on the end, and each time they rang she laughed.
“You’re scaring off the fish.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve never fished with a bell before.”
“Have you ever fished before?”
“Some.” She almost said “before my cancer,” but then she realized she hadn’t told him about that part of her life. Did he know? Had someone else told him? Maybe not. Maybe that was why she liked being around him. Micah didn’t treat her as if she might break.
A few minutes earlier she’d thought he was going to make good on his threat to push her into the water. He’d only stopped when she’d grabbed one of the poles and said she’d take it with her. She enjoyed people treating her like a normal person. Maybe that was what she’d been missing.
“Oatmeal cookie for your thoughts?” He held up a cookie, and when she reached for it, he moved it out of her reach. “Uh-uh, you have to tell me what you were thinking about first.”
“Right. Okay. Well, I was thinking about something my mamm said, that hard times change a person.”
“Ya?” He handed her the cookie and then scooted the thermos of decaf coffee closer to her. “What kind of hard times?”
“I guess it could be anything, but the point is that you’re not the same afterward. Maybe you start out carefree and end up serious. Or maybe you start out sure of everything, every turn your life is going to take. Like you have it all planned out. You know?”
“I’ve never planned much,” Micah admitted.
“Say you did, and then something happened to change everything.”
“Everything?”
“Ya.”
“Huh. I guess that would make me more cautious.” He reeled in a little of the fishing line, then asked, “Is that what happened to you? Is that why you’re such a rule follower?”
“I’m not a very good rule follower. I went to a concert with you last night.”
“And it didn’t corrupt you a bit.”
“True, but I need to be careful, or I might start singing about pickup trucks and mud on my boots.”
She picked up one of her flip-flop sandals, waved it at him and then sat it back down. “Imagine that—an Amish woman in cowgirl boots.”
Micah picked up the other shoe and studied it. “This looks nothing like a boot. Maybe if I threw it into the water, it would change and become a boot.”
“Give me that shoe back.”
But Micah had already jumped up and was holding the flip-flop over his head. “This? You want this?”
“Micah, don’t you dare...”
“Sounds like you’re issuing an ultimatum.”
“I need that shoe to walk back to the house. You don’t want me walking barefoot through the fields.”
“It’s good for a person to walk barefoot. Helps you to feel connected to Gotte’s green earth.”
Susannah was standing on her tiptoes, trying to wrestle the shoe from his hands, and Micah was moving backward to avoid her, a big dopey grin on his face. Then he took one too many steps backward at the exact moment that she rested a hand on his chest so she could keep her balance and reach up higher with the other hand. His eyes found hers just before they splashed into the water.
She came up sputtering, shocked that she was now thoroughly wet. Then she heard something that was becoming quite familiar to her—Micah’s laughter.
He pointed at her head. “You have moss on top of your kapp.”
“Oh, so you think that’s funny. Is that why you’re laughing?” She reached down into the water, grabbed a fistful of the slimy green stuff, then lurched toward him and tossed it on top of his head. After that, it was rather a free-for-all of water splashing and moss throwing.
Micah
was the one who noticed that her flip-flop had drifted toward the middle of the pond. He swam out to it with sure, easy strokes. She waited near the dock in the moonlight, standing in water up to her waist and wondered where he’d learned to swim like that. His shadow in the moonlight reminded her of a large fish cutting through the water.
It occurred to her that Micah was a nice guy and a good-hearted man. He was certainly not difficult to look at. That thought caused her cheeks to burn with embarrassment, and she was grateful for the darkness. He wasn’t interested in her, and she certainly wasn’t interested in him—not that way. They were just hanging out together, helping him through a tough time until he was able to return home. She’d do well to keep that thought front and center.
When he returned and presented her with the shoe, she grabbed it from him with what she hoped was a curt “I’m going to get even for this.”
Walking out of the water, she paused at the edge to put her shoes on her feet and squeeze water from her dress. She didn’t realize he was behind her until he spoke—his mouth close to her ear and his words a mere whisper that sent goose bumps down her arms. “You look awfully pretty in the moonlight, Susannah Beiler.”
Which set off every emotional alarm she possessed.
Was he flirting with her?
Did he think she had been flirting with him?
What was she doing standing in the moonlight with Micah Fisher? She was supposed to be keeping an eye on him—keeping him out of trouble.
Before she could work any of that out, Micah said, “Let me gather up our stuff. Then we can walk back by the road. It’ll give our clothes time to dry off a bit.”
The route would be longer, but Susannah found she didn’t mind.
A small part of her wished the night could go on and on.
* * *
Micah whistled through his Sunday morning chores, maybe because he knew they were going over to the Beilers for lunch. There was something about Susannah that intrigued him. It wasn’t that he was falling for her—she was much too serious to be his type—but she was easy to be around.
And she was a challenge.
He was honest enough to admit that he loved a good challenge.
An Unlikely Amish Match Page 5
