by Emma Miller
He slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants thoughtfully. “I don’t mind if you tell people we’re courting, Lovey.”
Her eyes widened. “We are not courting, Marshall Byler. I...I don’t even know if I’m riding home with you.”
“Sure you are. I already spoke with your mother and Benjamin about what time they’d like to see you home. She makes a mean strawberry-rhubarb tart, your mam.” He smacked his lips together. “I think it would put my grandmother’s to the test.”
“You asked my mother for permission to drive me home?” Lovage asked indignantly.
“Not really. I think you and I are both old enough that we don’t need permission from our elders. We know our own minds. I was just chatting with them, letting them know they’ll be seeing more of me, now that you and I are courting.”
“We are not courting!” she told him. “I don’t even know you.”
He stopped and tilted his head, looking at her. “Are we going to do this again, Lovey?” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “This is how we’re going to get to know each other. Learn each other’s likes and dislikes and such.” He frowned. “I don’t even know what your favorite color is.”
“Blue,” she said, before she caught herself.
He grinned. “Blue, of course. I would have guessed that. Blue because of my eyes.”
“Blue is not my favorite color because—” She groaned in frustration. She would have liked to have said he was conceited, but he came off not as conceited but as the most confident young man she’d ever met. Which made him the total opposite of her. Lovage was definitely not confident, particularly around men.
He started walking and she walked with him, mostly because she didn’t know what else to do. Her gaze strayed to her family gathered at the picnic tables under the hickory trees. Her mother and Benjamin had passed the baskets to her brothers. They’d be in their two buggies soon, headed home. If Lovage was going with them, she needed to say so.
“So that’s a no on staying for the games?” Marshall went on. “In that case, we can take the long way home. I have a courting buggy, you know. A cozy two-seater.” He winked at her. “I like your way of thinking, Lovey.”
“Marshall,” Lovage said, so rattled she couldn’t even speak.
Just then, two young women in pretty rose-colored dressed walked past them. They were Ginger’s age and pretty, with freckled noses and blond hair. Sisters, Lovage guessed.
“Nice game, Marshall,” the taller of the two cooed.
The other giggled. “We got here late, otherwise we could have played on your team, Marshall,” she said.
Marshall grinned. “Thanks. You should definitely join us next time.”
Lovage cut her eyes at him. These girls were openly flirting with him! And he was flirting back. And—and it made her angry because she was walking with him. He had asked her to ride home with him. And she could be fun. She could flirt.
Maybe.
Gripping the catcher’s mask in one hand, Lovage turned to Marshall. “Yes,” she blurted, so nervous that it came out too loud. Too forward.
“Ya?” He looked at her, his blue eyes twinkling in a way that made Lovage feel a little woozy.
“Yes, I’ll ride home with you. I just...” She walked away from him. “I have to talk to my parents.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He was smiling now. Smiling at her. “I need to make sure my little brother and grandmother are set to go, anyway.”
Lovage had learned from Ginger that Marshall’s grandmother lived with him and that he had been caring for her and his little brother since their father passed away a few years ago. Lovage had to admit, at least to herself, that the idea that he was being a father to his twelve-year-old brother was evidence of what a truly good man he was.
“Meet you at the picnic tables in a few minutes?” Marshall asked. “We’ll say goodbye to everyone, thank the bishop and his wife for having us and then go.”
Lovage nodded as she hurried away.
“See you in a few minutes, Lovey!” he called after her.
Chapter Four
“Beautiful night.” Marshall strode beside Lovage toward the buggies lined up on the far side of Bishop Simon’s barn. He’d already hitched up Toby when he had walked his grandmother to her buggy and checked to be sure Sam had hitched old Jake properly. Sam had seemed proud that Marshall had given him the responsibility of seeing Grossmammi home safely, though he was disappointed he wouldn’t be the one driving. Their grandmother would take the reins. Sam was turning out to be an excellent driver, but it would be nearly dark by the time they arrived home, and dusk was the most dangerous time of day to be driving a horse and buggy on the roads. Englisher drivers were too unpredictable. Marshall knew it was his duty to teach Sam how to navigate the busy roadway, but his first responsibility was to his family’s safety.
Marshall smiled to himself as he glanced at Lovey, walking beside him. He felt like he didn’t have a care in the world tonight. His team had won the softball game, he’d had an excellent chat with Lovey’s parents, and now he was taking his sweetheart home alone in his buggy. The fact that she hadn’t agreed to be his sweetheart yet was a minor detail. Marshall knew, in his heart of hearts, Lovey was the woman for him. He’d recognized it the moment he saw her at the harness shop. Spending time near her this afternoon had only given him more confidence in his choice.
Watching Lovey interact with her siblings and stepbrothers while she’d shared the cookout feast with her family had given him the opportunity to see what a fine sister and daughter she was. She was attentive not just to her siblings, but to her mother, as well. More than once, Marshall, who’d been watching her from his family’s picnic blanket across the yard, saw Lovey jump up to do a task, allowing her mother to relax and enjoy getting to know her new neighbors. Then, watching Lovey play softball had shown him yet another side of her. She was competitive, but not in a sour way, and she tried her best, even when she knew chances were she wouldn’t be successful. And while definitely on the shy side, she was willing to offer her opinion when asked. She was a smart player, kind and fair to the others on her own team as well as his. The fact that she was a good softball player was just a bonus.
He glanced at Lovey, who was walking with her head down. “Beautiful night for a long ride,” he told her, slipping his thumbs behind his suspenders, stretching them and releasing them.
“It’s not all that far to our farm,” she responded. “Less than two miles, I’d say.”
“Benjamin told me he turned in around ten. Said he and Rosemary liked all of his chicks in the house by then.” Marshall pulled out a pocket watch that had been his father’s and his father’s before that, and checked the time. “We’ve got more than an hour before your parents will be expecting you. Which means we can take the long way home.”
“Why would we go the long way?” she asked, sounding perplexed.
Just the sound of her voice made Marshall want to take her hand in his. She looked so pretty this evening in a blue, calf-length dress, the color of the cornflowers that grew in his grandmother’s flower beds. Wisps of soft brown hair peeked from beneath her white prayer kapp pinned securely to her head. And she had a little smudge of dirt on her chin, which, in his eyes, made her even prettier. He could tell that Lovey wasn’t one of those single women who spent their days sitting on their father’s porches waiting for men to court them. Lovey wasn’t afraid to get dirty on the softball field, which meant she wouldn’t mind getting dirty in their garden, weeding beside him. In his mind’s eye, he could just imagine the two of them in the early morning, tidying the beds, talking and laughing, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company.
That was the kind of wife Marshall wanted. A woman who could be his partner. When he lay in bed alone at night, he imagined having the kind of marriage his parents had shared. The kind where husband and wife tried to lig
hten each other’s load. He didn’t necessarily believe that opposites attracted; it was important for a man and his wife to have the same religious convictions, the same morals. But he did think that a man’s weaknesses should be shored up by his wife’s strengths, and vice versa. While he was outgoing, Lovey was more reserved. She was cautious, while he had been known to make snap decisions. In his eyes, the combination of those traits would only make them a better team to experience the joys and the trials they would face in their life together. He truly believed that was God’s intention when he had created man and wife.
“Why would I want to take the long way?” Marshall asked her. “So I can spend as much time as possible with you,” he explained.
She finally glanced at him. The look on her face was quizzical. “But why would you want to do that?”
He smiled, not entirely sure if she was serious or not. Did she really not know how beautiful she was? How smart and capable? “Because I want to get to know you. Because I enjoy being with you,” he told her. “Is that so hard to believe?”
She narrowed her green eyes. “Ya, a little.”
He tilted his head back and laughed hard, and when he looked at her again, she was smiling at him. It was a smile that warmed his heart. One look at the smile that was for him alone, and he made his mind up that once they were in his cozy, two-seater buggy and away from prying eyes, he was definitely going to hold her hand. Or at least give it his best shot.
“Tomorrow is visiting Sunday for our church,” he told her as they rounded the corner of the barn to where the buggies were parked. “I was wondering what you would think about me bringing my grandmother and brother by your place. Benjamin made the invitation. To stop by and say hello if we were in the neighborhood.” He chuckled. “Of course, obviously we’re in the neighborhood. It’s an easy walk between my place and yours. In fact, if it’s nice—”
Marshall halted midsentence, staring in disbelief at what he was seeing.
Just beyond his cousin John Mary Byler’s buggy was his own. It was a handsome two-seater that he had purchased when he was in his early twenties. It was a perfect buggy for courting, because it was light and fast and open, so no young woman’s parents need be concerned for their daughter’s reputation. It was perfect to take Lovey on what might be considered their first date. Perfect, except that sitting in the middle of the bench seat was a boy of about ten. A boy he was pretty sure he recognized from Benjamin’s harness shop. And from Lovey’s family’s picnic blanket earlier in the evening.
He turned to look at Lovey, confident she knew better than he did what was going. She was grinning, and he found her smile infectious, even though he was pretty sure she’d gotten the best of him here.
“And who might this young man be?” he asked Lovage.
The boy had a shaggy head of brown hair, a cute grin and green eyes that were familiar to Marshall. “I’m Jesse. Lovey’s brother.” He pointed at her.
“I hope you don’t mind, Marshall.” Lovey’s mouth twitched into a playful smile as she rounded the buggy, giving his horse a rub on the nose as she went by. “You asked me if I wanted to ride home with you. You didn’t say I couldn’t bring my little brother.”
He glanced away and then back at her, not angry, but amused that his Lovey would play such a trick on him. “Are you asking me if he can ride squeezed in between us?” Marshall asked, meeting her gaze.
Her green eyes twinkled with amusement. “That’s not a problem, is it, Marshall?”
“Not at all, Lovey.” He chuckled and walked over to unhitch Toby from the hitching post. “Not a bit.”
* * *
Against Lovage’s will, she found herself relaxing on the buggy ride home. With Jesse seated between them, actually squeezed in between them, as Marshall had observed, she felt more comfortable with Marshall, and with herself. With Jesse there to act as a buffer, she didn’t feel so self-conscious. Usually, when she was alone with a man, she was uncomfortable, worrying so much about what she said or did that she never had a good time. Not that she’d had that many dates in her life.
Tonight was different and she didn’t know why. Was it Marshall that made it different? Instead of worrying about where she put her hands or how often she looked at him, she found herself laughing at his jokes and enjoying his stories, which seemed endless. She’d laughed so hard when he told her about his grandmother catching one of their old hens and insisting she was going to put it in the stew pot. And she couldn’t help smiling when he related a story about the neighbor’s baby goat he had saved from a dog, nursed back to health and given to his little brother as a companion.
“I’m not exaggerating when I tell you the kid follows him around like a dog,” Marshall told her. He glanced down at Jesse, seated between them. “You’re welcome to come over and meet Petunia yourself, if you like.”
Jesse giggled. “Who names a goat Petunia?”
Marshall, the leather reins gripped in his broad hands, leaned over as if letting him in on a secret. “Our grandmother named her because the first go-round with a name...” He raised his eyebrows. “Sam was calling him Peter. You see the fault in that, don’t you?”
Jesse broke into another peal of giggles. “It was a girl goat, not a boy goat.”
“I like your brother,” Marshall told Lovage, talking over Jesse’s head. “He’s smart, this one. Catches on fast.”
Jesse giggled again and Lovage couldn’t help smiling. When she’d decided to have Jesse ride home with them to serve as a chaperone, as she’d explained to her mother, she’d half expected Marshall to change his mind. A single man as good-looking, as charming, as Marshall could have had his pick of any single girl there that night. Her sister Ginger indeed would have ridden with him. Lovage bet those two girls who were flirting with him would have let him drive them home, too. And none of them would have brought their little brother along.
But Marshall hadn’t changed his mind. In fact, he’d had a good sense of humor about the whole thing. Not only had he agreed Jesse could ride with them, but he’d been kind to him, talking as much to him as to her. Marshall had taken the long way to Benjamin’s farm, but it seemed to Lovey as if the hour had gone by in minutes. One minute she and Marshall were pulling onto the road from Bishop Simon’s and the next, they were turning at the Miller’s Harness Shop sign that her sister Nettie had painted. It was a beautiful handmade wood sign with a buggy in the background, indicating Benjamin and his son Levi also dabbled in buggy-making.
Lovage almost felt disappointed when their big white, rambling two-story farmhouse came into view. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d so enjoyed a buggy ride. Or the company of a man.
Marshall eased his horse in the side yard near the house and jumped down.
As he walked up to tie Toby to the hitching post, Lovage turned to her brother and said quietly, “Mind your manners. Be sure to thank Marshall for giving you a ride home from the game.”
“Ya,” Jesse responded, beaming.
Lovage stood to get out of the buggy before Marshall reached her side, but she wasn’t quick enough. And there he was, looking up at her, his hand out to help her down.
Lovage seriously considered not taking his hand, and climbing down herself. But before she could make up her mind, he caught her fingers with his and she felt a warmth that brought a rush of heat to her cheeks.
“Thank you for the ride home,” Jesse said from behind Marshall. “You think it would be okay if I came tomorrow morning, after chores, to see Petunia?”
“Jesse, you shouldn’t invite yourself,” Lovage admonished. Her sneakers touched the ground and she found herself almost disappointed when Marshall took his hand away from hers.
“You’re velcom for the ride. Anytime. Of course you can come tomorrow morning. As long as you have your mother’s permission,” Marshall told Jesse. He looked back at Lovage, shrugging his shoulders, which seeme
d even broader to her today than they had the first day they’d met. “He wasn’t inviting himself. I already invited you, right, Jesse?”
Jesse beamed again.
Lovage bunched the fabric of her skirt in her hands. “Thank you for the ride home,” she said, trying to think of a way to sidestep Marshall and make her escape to the house.
“You’re welcome,” he answered. But he didn’t move, effectively keeping her pinned, her back to the buggy. “But I’m not done with you.” He glanced over his shoulder at her little brother. “Off with you, now, Jesse. I want to talk to your sister alone.”
Jesse yanked off his straw hat and took off toward the side porch. “Thanks again, Marshall. See you tomorrow.”
When he was gone, Marshall turned back to Lovage. “That was pretty clever of you, agreeing to ride home with me and then inviting your little brother.” He was smiling slyly.
A mosquito buzzed around her head, but she didn’t want to swat at it and look foolish to him. “Ya, it was, wasn’t it?” She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling awkward. He was standing so close to her that even though it was dark, she could see his blue eyes watching her.
He smirked, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t really think you’re the first girl I’ve ever dated who brought along a chaperone, do you? I walked out with a girl from Rose Valley who took her elderly aunt with her everywhere we went.”
Lovage covered her mouth with her hand to keep from giggling. “We’re not dating,” she told him.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course we are. You rode home with me in my buggy. Half the county saw you. By the end of tomorrow, the rest of the county will know by way of the Amish telegraph.” He stepped back. “Come on. Let me walk you to the door. I think someone is watching us from the front window.” He nodded in the direction of the house.
Lovage looked over his shoulder just in time to see the curtain fall over one of the parlor windows.
“Which leads me to a question I’ve wanted to ask you since you threw Will out at third base.”
