Charity tapped her finger against her chin. “I did not think of that.” She flashed Leah an innocent smile. “But once they get to know you, they will like you as much as I do.”
Leah didn’t want to burst her friend’s bubble, but she didn’t have any of the confidence Charity did. Charity was too caught up in her own happiness to think about Martha. Leah wasn’t. Leah had no illusions that the Amish girls would welcome her with open arms. None at all.
Leah was amazed by the number of tourists who began to pour into town for the July Fourth holiday. They came to Amish Acres, a hundred-year-old Amish homestead where the Amish lifestyle was perfectly preserved. Demonstrations of spinning, weaving and quilting took place daily. There was a large restaurant specializing in simple but abundant Amish cooking, and a gift shop filled with Amish wares that attracted carloads of sightseers. Charity’s oma had several quilts on display in the shop, as well as jars of jelly and pumpkin butter. A unique round, wooden, barnlike theater on the Acres showcased plays several days a week.
The bed-and-breakfast was full, and Leah and Kathy both worked long hours. They were changing beds together one morning when Leah asked, “Is it always like this on holidays?”
“Pretty much,” Kathy said. “I’m glad I’m leaving for camp next week.”
Leah realized she was going to miss Kathy. Not only because she worked hard, but because Kathy was friendly and talkative. They didn’t socialize outside work, but that was because Kathy had a steady boyfriend and Leah spent whatever time she could with Ethan. “How can you go off and leave me?” Leah wailed.
“Mrs. Stoltz will hire someone else, or she already has, I guess. She knew my schedule.” Kathy grinned. “And don’t forget, you wanted to spend the summer here.”
“I hadn’t expected to be tripping over bodies, though. Tourists are clogging the streets.”
“Tourists are a fact of life.”
“The Amish don’t like them very much. Not that I blame them. Tourists are always in their face, trying to take their pictures when they know the Amish don’t like it. Mr. Longacre posted a No Trespassing sign on his property because a carload of tourists drove up to his house one afternoon just to look the place over. They acted insulted when he didn’t invite them inside. Can you imagine people being so inconsiderate and insensitive?”
Kathy fluffed two pillows and tossed one to Leah. “Don’t feel too sorry for the Amish,” she said. “Sure they hate the commotion tourists cause, but they like the extra income they bring in. They tolerate the tourists because it’s money in their pockets.”
Leah thought Kathy’s assessment harsh. She’d seen the large produce stand on the side of the highway, at the edge of the Longacre property, that the Amish community had built. There the abundance of produce, fruit, eggs, jellies, breads and other goods from surrounding Amish farms was sold. The stand was almost overwhelmed with customers. Rebekah was part of the group of younger kids and teenagers who helped out there. “There’s nothing wrong with taking advantage of a bad situation,” Leah said defensively.
Kathy shrugged. “The one thing the Amish really have to worry about with so many tourists around is getting run over. Those buggies are so slow, and tourists are always plowing into them.”
“Really?” Leah herself had gotten stuck in traffic behind a poky Amish buggy, and she remembered Simeon on his skates.
“It happens all the time. Horses and buggies are no match for cars. Someone’s always getting maimed. Or worse.”
Leah grimaced. “I can see why they hate tourist season.”
“One good thing about being Amish, though, is that they take care of their own. Whenever a disaster happens, the whole clan rallies to help out. Farmwork gets done, animals get taken care of—I do admire them for that.” Kathy shook out fresh towels for the bathroom. “But for the most part, I think the Amish are old-fashioned and stubborn. What’s the difference between riding in a car and driving one yourself?”
Leah had often thought the same thing, but she didn’t want to admit it to Kathy. “Look at the time,” she said suddenly. “I told Mrs. Stoltz I’d go buy fresh salad makings for the lunch crowd. I’d better get it done.”
Leah drove directly to the Amish produce stand. When she pulled up, Rebekah came running over. “Leah, I’ve sold six dozen eggs today,” the little girl said with a big grin. Her front tooth was partially grown in, making her look especially cute.
“Good for you!”
“Are you going to the fair tomorrow night to see the fireworks?” Rebekah asked.
“Yes. Are you going?” Leah thought it best not to mention that she was going with Ethan and Charity.
“Mama and Papa are taking me. Maybe we’ll see you.”
Leah wondered what would happen if Charity’s parents ran into them. Especially with Charity dressed English. “Maybe.” Leah tugged playfully on one of Rebekah’s braids. “How’s my chicken doing?”
“She’s getting very big. I think she will lay many eggs.”
“I sure hope so. I don’t want a lazy chicken. Is Charity at the house?” Leah asked.
“She’s working in the apple orchard with Mama and Oma today. But you can go visit her if you want.”
Leah bought the produce she needed and put it in her car. She wanted to talk about the next night’s plans and decided to take a chance on going up to the house, hoping Mr. Longacre wouldn’t spot her. In the distance she saw Ethan working in a field of corn and started walking toward him. On foot, she figured, she’d be less noticeable than in her car.
When he saw her coming, he came over to the fence to meet her. “Leah! I have been thinking about you.”
His admission pleased her. “Same here,” she said. “The corn looks like it’s growing. When I first came, it was barely out of the ground.”
“There is a saying that it will be a good harvest if the corn is knee-high by July Fourth.” Ethan mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.
“It looks fine to me.”
“You look fine to me.”
“Glad you noticed.”
“I always notice you, Leah.”
Her heartbeat quickened. “How do you want to handle going to the fair tomorrow night? Should I drive?”
“My family will leave for the fair after lunch. Oma and Opa will also be going. No one will be at home. Come to the house before suppertime.”
“What if they run into us at the fair?”
“The fair is very large, and hundreds of people will be there. It is unlikely.”
“I just don’t want them to think I’m a bad influence on Charity.”
Ethan took her hand. “Charity has made this choice. She would do it with or without you.”
“If you say so.” Still, Leah didn’t feel totally absolved. What they were doing was sneaky.
Ethan lifted her chin. “We will have a very good time tomorrow night. You will see. All will be well.”
Leah wanted to believe him because it was so important. He wanted his friends to accept her. She wanted it too. But Jonah had essentially told her that English and Amish didn’t mix. And everything she’d seen so far this summer—the tourists, their loud voices, their inconsiderate actions—told her that was the truth. Leah was English. Ethan, his family and his friends were not. She tried hard to be respectful and tolerant of their Amish customs. But nothing could change the reality of their differences. Nothing.
THIRTEEN
Leah arrived at the farm the next day in the late afternoon. She carried in a sack full of clothes for Charity, and while she helped her dress and put on makeup, Ethan loaded the car with sleeping bags, a cooler and containers of food. He was sitting in the parlor when Leah and Charity came down the stairs. He jumped to his feet.
Charity twirled in front of him. “What do you think?”
“I think you look very pretty.”
Leah could see by Charity’s smile that her brother’s compliment mattered to her. “Then you approve?” Leah asked.
&n
bsp; Ethan’s gaze found hers. “I approve.”
They drove the several miles to the county fairgrounds with the convertible’s top down. The weather was typical for July—hot and sticky. At the fair, they parked in a field crammed with other cars and walked to the admission gate. After paying, Ethan said, “We are to meet the others in the carnival area.” He took Leah’s hand, and the three of them threaded their way through the throngs of people.
The carnival arcade consisted of games of chance and rides and even more people waiting in long lines. At the Ferris wheel, Leah saw Jonah scanning the crowd anxiously. When Jonah saw Charity, his eyes widened, and then a grin split his face. “I like what I see,” he told her when the three of them were standing in front of him.
“Leah helped me,” Charity said.
Jonah glanced at Leah. “Leah has only magnified what God has already created.”
“Where to now?” Leah asked.
“I will win you a teddy bear,” Ethan said.
They went over to a booth where a barker was urging people to try their skill at knocking over a stack of wooden bottles with a baseball. “Win the little lady a prize!” the man shouted. “Three tries for a dollar.”
Ethan slapped down a dollar bill. “I will try.”
The barker grinned. “Here you go, son. Dump ‘em and your girl gets her pick of prizes.”
Leah leaned over and whispered into Ethan’s ear. “These things are rigged. You shouldn’t waste your money.”
“It is only a dollar,” Ethan said. “And I may get lucky.” He picked up the balls and threw them in quick succession, knocking down the bottles.
Leah didn’t know who was more surprised, she or the barker. The man gave Ethan a sour smile. “You did it, kid. What does the lady want?”
Leah picked out a bear, and Ethan tucked it under his arm. “How’d you do that?” she asked once they had walked away.
Ethan flashed her a sly smile. “These people think because we are Amish we are slow or dumb. I learned long ago just how to throw the ball to beat them. They are always surprised when I win.”
“And who taught you how to beat them?”
He stiffened. “Someone from long ago. It is not important.”
His answer mystified Leah. He was shutting her out again from something in his past. Determined not to let it bother her, she looped her arm through his. “You’re just full of surprises, Ethan Longacre. And I like surprises.”
His momentary moodiness vanished with a quick smile. “I like surprises too.”
Jonah won Charity a stuffed toy at the next booth. Soon the four of them had their arms loaded with stuffed animals and inexpensive dolls and toys. “What are we going to do with all this stuff?” Leah asked.
“We will leave it with friends in one of the food booths,” Ethan said. “The Yoders have a concession stand.”
They left their prizes with the Yoders—-all except for Leah’s bear, which she insisted on carrying. When they returned to the carnival area, Leah recognized some of Jonah’s friends standing near the roller coaster. They were talking, even flirting, with girls who weren’t Amish. She wasn’t sure why that bothered her, but it did. English girls—girls like her—seemed good enough to have fun with, but not good enough to date or take home to the family. Still, she was polite when introduced to the newcomers.
Within an hour, the group had ridden the roller coaster, the bumper cars and the merry-go-round. Dusk was falling by the time Leah and Ethan got on the Ferris wheel. “Soon the fireworks will start over by the lake,” Ethan said as the wheel began its slow ascent.
Leah saw the grayish blue water from the high vantage point. People were already gathered along the shore in lawn chairs and on blankets. “It already looks packed.”
“Don’t worry. Some of our friends are there saving places.”
Since Leah hadn’t yet run into Martha, she wondered if Jonah’s sister was one of the friends saving places.
Their seat on the Ferris wheel swung to the very top, then lurched to a stop. Far below, Leah saw a man fiddling with the machinery. “We may have to watch from up here,” she said, huddling closer to Ethan. “It sure is a long way down.”
“Are you frightened? I have seen you drive. How could this be scary?”
She punched his arm good-naturedly. “Swinging in an open basket fifty feet in the air with nothing but a bar across my lap doesn’t bother me one bit.”
He laughed. “I like this ride best of all. It lets me see the earth as birds see it. As angels see it. Sometimes I dream that I am flying above the ground, swooping and soaring. I don’t like waking up from that dream.”
“You’ve never flown in an airplane, have you?”
He shook his head, but she saw a wistful look cross his face. “I would like to do that someday.”
“You ought to see the clouds from the top side. They look like big fat cotton balls. Do you think angels play in the clouds?”
“Angels go anywhere they want.” He brushed her hair with his lips. “Even on Ferris wheels at county fairs.”
Leah felt as if she were melting. Ethan could say the sweetest things.
After the ride, they headed toward the lake. They searched the throngs for their friends. Charity was the first to spot them. “Over there.” She waved at a group of about thirty kids lounging on quilts and blankets.
Leah settled next to Ethan, mindful of the glances from the group. She was the only non-Amish person among them. From the corner of her eye, she saw Martha. Martha kept glancing at Ethan covertly, and Leah knew that if it hadn’t been for her, Martha undoubtedly would have been the one with Ethan tonight. Leah shifted so that Martha was completely out of her line of vision.
With a loud pop, the first volley of fireworks lit the sky. Cascades of color and showers of gold rained down in long streamers. Using her stuffed bear as a pillow, Leah stretched out. Ethan lay beside her and together they watched the brilliant lights dance overhead. With every burst, Leah felt Ethan’s hand tighten on hers. Waves of contentment washed over her. She couldn’t imagine anyplace else in the world she’d rather be than under a July Fourth fireworks display with Ethan.
Ethan asked, “Do you think your mother is seeing fireworks in the South Pacific?”
“According to Mom, a person can see a million stars out there. Who needs fireworks?” Her mother had called a few days before to hear how Leah’s doctor’s appointment had gone. Leah had given her mother a good report, not even mentioning her sore knee. The cortisone shot had helped immensely, but her bout with cancer seemed always to be lurking on the fringes of her mind.
Ethan sighed. “Sometimes I think about traveling all over the world.”
Leah understood his longing. But for her, what he had—home and a sense of belonging—seemed more satisfactory than sailing the ocean. “Maybe someday you will,” she said.
“It does not seem likely. But I wish I could.”
When the fireworks show was over, the quilts were folded and the whole group joined the exodus of people headed home. The Amish kids were going to the Yoder farm for the campout. And Leah would be with them. She hoped she didn’t do anything to embarrass herself. And she hoped that she and Ethan could hold on to the feelings they had for each other—regardless of all their differences.
A stream ran through the part of the farm where the campsite was set up. A large bonfire was built and blankets spread on the ground around it. Radios, portable CD players, picnic baskets and coolers were strewn around the blankets. A keg of beer sat in the sluggish stream. Leah was certain Jonah had sneaked it in. Leah noted that this night everyone had come in cars—not in buggies. And no one was dressed Amish.
She and Ethan settled on a quilt with Charity and Jonah. Jonah headed straight for the beer keg. Ethan pulled a package of hot dogs from their cooler. “Want one?”
“Sure,” Leah said.
He handed her a piece of wire and stuck a hot dog on the end. They walked closer to the fire and began cookin
g the hot dogs. By the time they returned to the blanket, Charity had gone to talk to other friends, and Jonah had made several more trips to the keg.
Leah and Ethan sat on the blanket, scooped potato salad onto plates and began eating. Jonah came up and held out a plastic cup full of beer. “Want a drink, Ethan?”
“This is not a place for drinking, Jonah,” Ethan responded. “You should not have brought this.”
“You don’t like my beer?” Jonah asked. His tone sounded challenging.
“No. I do not want your beer,” he said evenly.
“Why do you not want to be with your friends, Ethan?” Jonah asked. He swayed slightly. “Why are you letting your girlfriend make your decisions for you?”
Leah held her breath, waiting for Ethan’s reaction.
Ethan stood. “I make my own choices, Jonah. And I do not choose to drink your beer.”
Leah watched Ethan stoop over and rummage through the cooler and pull out two soda cans. He popped the tabs, handed one to Leah, and sat back down. To Jonah, Ethan said, “Why don’t you eat something? We have salads. We have cakes.”
“I don’t want anything to eat. I want to talk to you about the way you treat your friends.” He cast Leah a hard look. “Ever since she came into your life, you have no time for us. For your own kind.”
“You are talking crazy,” Ethan said.
In the light from the bonfire, Leah saw Ethan’s jaw clench.
“Do you know what I think, Ethan?” Jonah asked.
“Because you have been drinking, I do not care what you think,” Ethan answered.
Jonah leaned over so that his face was inches from Ethan’s. “I think you are proud. All you Longacres are proud.”
Ethan started to rise to his feet. Leah grabbed his arm. “It’s only words, Ethan. Ignore him. He’s drunk.” She knew Ethan rejected violence, but she was angry enough to hit Jonah herself. Why was he spoiling their evening?
Jonah acted as if Leah hadn’t even spoken. “You are proud. Your father is proud. Eli would have drunk beer with me.”
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