First Impressions: An Amish Tale of Pride & Prejudice (The Amish Classics Book 1)

by Sarah Price

  Lizzie stared at her daed, her eyes pleading with him. However, he seemed more puzzled at why breakfast was suddenly over and his plate whisked away from under his raised fork. When he realized that his wife meant business, he sighed and stood up. “I have chores to tend, then,” he mumbled and disappeared through the kitchen door.

  Maem came over to the table, standing behind Lizzie for a moment. “You should go speak with Wilmer,” she urged, her hands placed on Lizzie’s shoulders and strongly pulling her daughter to her feet. “To the porch, Lizzie.”

  “Maem,” she whispered. “Please don’t make me . . . ”

  “Hush, Elizabeth!”

  Outside on the porch Lizzie sat on the bench and folded her hands on her lap. She crossed her bare feet at the ankles and tucked them under her dress, more to avoid the urge to run than to appear demure and proper. Wilmer stood before her, his hat still being nervously shuffled between his hands. He seemed to be thinking for a moment, each second of silence drawing on her nerves and causing her heart to beat faster. She felt faint and said a quick prayer to God, asking Him to make her wake up from whatever horrible nightmare she was to experience.

  “You are aware,” he began in his nasal voice, “I have recently become a widower.”

  “That is most unfortunate,” she managed to say.

  “Indeed. Yet being a practical man and leader of my g’may, I recognize that I must not linger in the past but move forward. I have three small kinner who are still in need of a mother. It is not good for my older sons to be entrusted with their upbringing, and my older dochders have already married.”

  Another pause.

  “From the moment I arrived,” he continued, “I have felt a bond with you, Elizabeth Blank. You have impressed me with your good manners and godly ways. As a bishop I must be most careful and selective of the people I bring into my life, so I have observed you with the gravest of interest and have come to the conclusion that you will not only be a wonderful maem to my kinner, but you shall be quite efficient in helping me in my role as bishop of the g’may.”

  “Wilmer, I . . . ”

  He interrupted her. “I should like to request that you return with me to Ohio, to become my fraa and help with my kinner. It will be a good change for you,” he stated, his eyes roving around the porch as if the chipped paint and torn screen were beneath him. “My farm is not as large as your daed’s, but with sons working it, it is . . . ” Pause. “Better maintained.”

  “I have to say . . . ”

  Again he interrupted her. “Of course, I am agreeable to a few more kinner.” He smiled at her. “I know every woman wishes for her own boppli.”

  His words and the expression on his face caused her to blush. “Wilmer, please!”

  “I know you will enjoy the Dutch Valley. It’s a lovely town with rolling hills. It’s not quite so spread out as here,” he said, almost with a hint of disapproval to his statement. “Much easier to visit with each other, I dare say.” He breathed in deeply, as if tasting the air. “Ja, you will have a much better life and enjoy the new scenery, for certain.”

  “I have not given you my answer!” she finally managed to say as she jumped to her feet.

  He looked puzzled and took one step backward. “Answer?”

  Lizzie tried not to scowl. It dawned on her that Wilmer had never asked her a question. He had merely stated what he wanted to happen, and to her further displeasure, she realized that it had never dawned on him that she might have a choice. “My answer to your request that I’d marry you,” she snapped. “And as it is a question, Wilmer, not a mandate, I shall have to inform you that I will not return to Ohio with you.”

  The furrows in his brow deepened. “You will not?”

  “Nee,” she said firmly.

  And then, he smiled again. It was a strange smile, especially given what Lizzie had just said to him. Yet when he spoke, she realized that he had misunderstood what she meant. “I see,” he said. “It is too soon for you. I have taken you by surprise!”

  “Ja, I am a bit surprised,” she mumbled. He did not hear her for he continued.

  “And I see your point, being such a modest young woman. It would not be proper to return to Ohio together unless we were married already!” He clapped his hands in delight. “I should have realized that!”

  “Nee!” She held up her hand to stop him. “I will not be going to Ohio with you at all.”

  At this he seemed genuinely perplexed. She watched the smile and happiness fading from his face as he stared at her, trying to digest her words. Behind him a blue jay chased away the plain little sparrow while two nuthatches landed on her maem’s feeder. Lizzie wished she could have wings like the nuthatch and simply fly away to any place other than her parents’ porch, where she was subjected to the proposal of such a man as Wilmer Kaufman.

  “I don’t understand,” he confessed.

  She tried to soften her tone. “Wilmer, I am honored by your request, but I can assure you that I would not have a better life nor would I enjoy the scenery of Ohio, not for want of your provisions, which are most honorable, but because my heart is not in such a journey or life. I am far too inexperienced to raise your kinner and quite inadequate as a Christian to be the wife of an established bishop.”

  “You are being too modest, Elizabeth,” he said happily. “Another admirable trait that just furthers my decision that you are meant to be my fraa.”

  “Nee,” she said, shaking her head. “I am not meant to be your fraa, Wilmer, for there is something more that you must know.” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “I don’t love you and never could, not in the way a fraa should love her husband.”

  For a moment the reaction on his face seemed as if he had been slapped. He blinked his eyes and pressed his lips together as he contemplated her words. “Love? What has love to do with a godly marriage?”

  She laughed, only there was no mirth in the sound. “And that is a perfect example of why I could never marry you, Wilmer. Nor should you wish to marry me. I’d never be happy, and I can assure you that you would find fault with me soon enough to hinder any chance of your own happiness.”

  “You are being coy.”

  She saw it was his last effort to make an excuse for her refusal. “Nee, I am not being coy,” she stated. “I simply will not marry you, Wilmer.” Without another word she turned on her heels and hurried off of the porch, scurrying to the barn where she knew that she could escape, unbothered by Wilmer or her maem. She didn’t look back as she darted into the open barn door and headed immediately for the ladder leading to the hayloft. She needed a moment to be alone, to digest what had just happened, and to escape from the reality that she would, no doubt, hear about this decision for the rest of her unmarried life from her maem.

  However, it did not take long for her hideaway to be discovered. She could hear her maem well before she saw her head pop through the opening in the floor. With a scowl Maem glanced around the hayloft until she caught sight of Lizzie, sitting on a hay bale. Her eyes narrowed and she completed the ascent. Behind her trailed a sullen-looking Daed, his cheeks drawn and tense.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  Lizzie looked up. “I will not marry that man!”

  “And why ever not?” Maem placed her hands on her hips, staring down Lizzie with a fierce and determined look on her face. “He’s as good a man as any other! And I see no others willing to even escort you home from singings!”

  If Lizzie wanted to blurt out that Frederick Detweiler had brought her home from the singing the previous night, she kept her mouth shut. It would do no good to have her maem catch wind of that information.

  “He’s ridiculous!”

  Maem tossed her hands into the air and turned to stare at her husband. “Do something with her!”

  Daed put his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped forward as he faced his wife. “What would you have me do? She’s quite right about this. He is ridiculous.”

  At
that declaration Maem’s eyes bulged from her head and she gasped. “Would you have her become a maedel then? A burden to whom? Us? Her sisters?”

  He tried to smile. “She will not become a maedel, my fraa. I can assure you of that.”

  “This is a perfectly agreeable match!” Maem turned back to her daughter. “I insist that you accept this offer and marry Wilmer. And if you do not,” Maem said, straightening her back and lifting her chin, “I shall shun you, Elizabeth Blank!”

  “Daed!” Lizzie stared at him, pleading with her eyes for some interference.

  Her father took a deep breath and nodded his head. “I see where we have quite a problem here, my dochder. You shall have to make a decision today that is quite difficult in nature.” He ignored the tears that were welling up in Lizzie’s eyes. “Your mother shall shun you if you do not marry Wilmer Kaufman, and I shall shun you if you do!”

  Maem gasped and spun around as Lizzie hurried to her father and hugged him, clinging to him for giving her the reprieve. Regardless of Maem’s insistence, it was Daed who had the final say. Now that he had spoken, there was nothing that her maem could say to counter it. To do so would be to disobey and disrespect her husband.

  “Danke, Daed,” she whispered into his ear. To her delight she felt him squeeze her arm in support of the decision. Then, without a moment to waste, Lizzie hurried down the ladder to escape from any more words from her maem, who was sure to give her a deeper tongue lashing once Daed would return to his chores and be out of earshot.

  Once she was out of the barn, Lizzie ran down the lane and toward the road. She knew that she couldn’t go back to the house. Things needed to simmer down and that would take time. Once she hit the main road, she stopped running, her feet beginning to ache, and began walking, catching her breath as a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions jumbled in her mind: the strange buggy ride home with Frederick, the unexpected proposal from Wilmer, the outrageous demand from her maem. When had life become so complicated? she pondered, her eyes staring straight ahead but seeing nothing. Was it her fault that she was not interested in the Amish men from her g’may? She had grown up with most of them and felt a love for most of them as if they were brothers, not potential husbands.

  Lizzie sighed and lowered her head. Was it wrong for her to want more from a marriage than simple convenience? She didn’t want to be just a gardener, baker, and boppli maker! She wanted to be a companion, and she wanted to love her husband. She wanted a friendship that would carry her through the years. If she had to choose between not having such a marriage and being a maedel, she’d prefer the latter!

  “Early for a walk today, ja?”

  She looked up, realizing that she had already walked three miles. At that rate she was passing the Beachey farm. Her cheeks flushed as she saw George waiting for her by the railing of the fence. “Gut mariye,” she said sheepishly, embarrassed that she hadn’t noticed him in advance. If she had, she certainly would have turned in order to avoid engaging in a conversation. She much preferred to be alone at the present moment, but as chance would have it, she had been too involved in her thoughts to see him in the paddock.

  “So deep in thought,” he commented with a smile. He was leaning against a fence post. She wondered how long he had been watching her.

  “You were missed at the singing last evening,” she replied. “It was a right gut time. And at your own home!”

  He shrugged. “I had a prior engagement.”

  She was fairly certain that his absence had to do with Frederick, yet he too had been absent beyond his brief appearance to ask to take her home. Still, she understood that George might have felt uncomfortable just knowing that Frederick might show up. However, she reminded herself that he had also missed church service too. Again. It was one thing to miss the social activities, but quite another to never attend worship or fellowship.

  “Ja, vell, I see that your current engagement is keeping you outdoors today,” she replied lightly, not certain how to move beyond the awkward silence that had followed his statement.

  He glanced around and sighed. “Just checking the fence line. The cows are being delivered later today.” He placed his hand on the wire and gave it a good shake. “Looks right gut to me,” he said.

  As they were speaking, a car pulled out of the driveway, stopping for a moment at the end before turning left and away from where Lizzie and George stood. She could see three people in the car besides the driver. Lizzie raised an eyebrow but asked no question. There was no need, for George volunteered the information.

  “Heading back to Ohio,” he stated, no emotion in his voice.

  At first Lizzie didn’t think that she heard him properly. The words echoed inside of her head. Ohio? Heading back? Whatever was George saying?

  He nodded his head, reading her mind. “Jacob Beachey had a heart attack last night. We received word just this morning. Neighbor brought us word since we don’t have a telephone yet,” he said. “The three are returning home to tend to him.”

  “Three of them?” This was surprising news. “Is Jacob going to be all right then?”

  Again, George shrugged. “Only God knows,” he replied.

  “Of course, of course,” she whispered, staring in the direction of the car as it disappeared from view. How terribly sad for the Beachey family, having just gotten established in Leola only to be called home by such horrible news. “I’ll make certain the bishop knows and we pray for Jacob.”

  On her way home she realized that of the three people that had returned to Ohio, only two were related to Jacob Beachey. She wondered why Frederick had not opted to stay behind to accept delivery of the herd of cows so that George, the self-professed unofficial son of Jacob Beachey, could help care for him. Curious indeed, she thought as she cut through a pasture that led to her daed’s farm.

  “A heart attack?” Jane gasped when she heard the news. The color drained from her face. “Oh, how dreadful!”

  They were huddled together near the barn, whispering to each other so as not to draw any attention from their maem, who, according to Jane, had collapsed in a fit of tears when Wilmer had borrowed Daed’s buggy to go visit the bishop. Clearly he had been humiliated by Lizzie’s refusal to marry him and just wanted to get away from the Blank farm.

  “How long is the drive back to Ohio?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “I don’t rightly know,” she replied honestly. “Six hours? Mayhaps seven?”

  “Poor Charles,” Jane said, more to herself than to Lizzie.

  From the expression on her face Jane was clearly thinking of him more than of his father. It dawned on Lizzie that she was seeing, firsthand, the look of love. Despite the solemnity of the moment, she felt her own emotions well inside of her: feelings of hope and joy for her sister’s future happiness with Charles Beachey. In thinking this, she laid her hand on Jane’s arm and tried to reassure her. “Everything will be fine, schwester,” she said. “You’ll see.”

  Jane lifted her eyes and stared at Lizzie. For a moment, Lizzie couldn’t tell what emotion her sister was feeling. It was a mixture of worry and fear. Did Jane fear more for Jacob’s health or for Charles’s return?

  Chapter Twelve

  TO LIZZIE’S GREAT relief, she saw very little of Wilmer during his final days staying at the Blank farm. In fact, most mornings he was gone before she had returned to the house following morning chores, and quite often, she was already asleep upon his return in the late evening. Where he went, she never once inquired. To be perfectly honest, she frankly did not care as to where he escaped.

  As the week progressed, there was no word from Charles Beachey or his sister. Since the Blanks had a phone on their farm, it was not unreasonable for Jane to expect a message, explaining his absence and updating her on the condition of his daed. After all, they were special friends, and it had been suspected that a fall wedding was imminent.

  After four days had passed with no word, Jane began to withdraw into herself. Lizzie was the first to notice. Ja
ne began to linger around the barn where the phone was kept. She offered to help sweep the dairy and even took to milking the cows. And her eyes continually drifted to the machine near the telephone as if willing it to blink red, indicating the presence of a message.

  Additionally they were all quietly surprised that no letter arrived from Carol Ann, the self-professed friend of Jane. It was a common practice among the Amish, especially those who lived farther away, to write letters to each other. In fact, in the evening there was always a letter or two to write so that in the morning it could be taken to the mailbox. Telephones were not meant for socializing, just important news that could not wait. So letter writing was still in great practice among the different church districts.

  Jane finally broke down and wrote a letter to Carol Ann. Lizzie had frowned while her older sister spent a painful hour, writing and then rewriting the missive. Reluctantly, for Lizzie could almost guess how this was going to play out, she took the letter to the mailbox the following day and pushed the little red flag up so that the mailman would know to stop and pick up the letter.

  On Saturday two surprises occurred, almost simultaneously.

  First was an unexpected visit by Charlotte. It was unusual for her to visit the Blank farm as she ran the family farm stand on Saturdays during the busy tourist season. When Lizzie saw her friend come down the lane, using her foot scooter, she immediately presumed something had happened and hurried in her direction.

  “Charlotte!” she cried as she approached. “Wie gehts? Is everything all right?”

  Charlotte avoided looking at Lizzie’s eyes but nodded her head, reassuring her friend with a simple “Ja, ja, everything is right gut.”

  “You scared me!” Lizzie said with a light laugh, pressing her hand to her chest. “I can’t remember ever seeing you visit on a Saturday in the summer. I was quite afraid you had some bad news to share.”