“That’s fine,” she said. “Denki.”
Then, hurrying around to climb back in, he jokingly added, “Of course, we can be sure this carriage is well built, jah?”
She smiled in the fading light.
He picked up the reins and signaled the horse to move forward, relieved Eva was in better spirits this evening. “Jonas gave me gut directions to a place for dessert later.”
She nodded, her hands in her lap.
“I like chocolate cake. Do you?” he asked.
She said she did, and he was pleased Eva wasn’t as bashful as one of the girls he’d taken out riding in recent months. He was relieved, too, that she didn’t seem nervous about being alone with him. Had that been part of the reason for her reticence Thursday evening?
Jed was conscious of her nearness, aware of the lightly scented perfume she must have dabbed behind her ears, like his youngest sister did before going out with her beau. The scent reminded him of lilacs or honeysuckle, and he wished he might transport Eva to Berlin for the summer, so they could take their time getting to know each other.
“My younger sister, Bettina, likes to wear a similar fragrance,” he said. “She’s just seventeen and is very active in her buddy group.” Jed brought up the rest of his siblings and then mentioned Eva’s older sister, reminding her that he’d seen Frona at market. But he purposely didn’t refer to Lily.
Eva was quiet now, and akin to last time, they rode in a haze of silence.
Suddenly she faced him. “You might like to know more about my family.”
“I would indeed.”
“Well, my mother isn’t the only one who’s deceased,” she told him softly. “My father is, too.”
The words jarred him, and he carefully weighed his response. “I’m very sorry.”
“My parents were much too young,” she added. “Dat died in a farming accident, and Mamma got sick and just couldn’t get well. She passed away last winter.”
Not so long ago . . .
“Do you and Frona live with a married brother and his family, perhaps?” he asked, diverting the topic.
“It’s the preferred way round here, but because Frona’s older and able to run the house—and likes doin’ so—our brother Menno has been letting us live there alone since Mamma’s death. He and Bena will be moving in soon enough, though.”
“Ah, so he must be the youngest of the sons?”
“Jah, that too.”
He looked at her, unsure what she meant. “Sorry?”
“Menno can be severe at times.”
Jed didn’t press for an explanation. He let Eva talk about whatever was on her mind. And there was plenty, beginning with her seeming interest in his hometown of Berlin—what sort of carriages he built, his daily life, and if the Plain community there catered much to the tourist trade, like in Lancaster County.
Is she curious because Lily’s gone there? he wondered.
The more Eva talked, the more he found himself comparing the way she spoke to the words she’d written in the margins of Little Women, down to the similar phrases she used to describe her feelings.
I know her better than she thinks, he thought, feeling a little guilty. After all, her notes had given him a window into how she expressed herself, an idea of what things were important to her. Would she forgive me if she knew?
In spite of his distraction, he attempted to answer her questions, still uncertain if she was making polite small talk or if she was actually curious about his life and work. And Jed considered when he should slip in the question that weighed on his mind. Could he do that without interrupting the easy flow of their conversation?
“How do you like Lancaster County?” she asked.
“I’m very glad my uncle Ervin suggested I glean some knowledge from Jonas Byler. Jonas is a cousin to Ervin’s wife,” he added.
“Oh, so that’s why you stayed with them.”
He waited for her to mention Orpha, perhaps, but Eva was already on to another subject.
“What sorts of quilt patterns do your sisters make out in Ohio?”
“You’d have to ask them.” Jed chuckled.
Now she, too, was laughing. “I guess men don’t pay much attention to such things.”
“Well, we have our own ideas about what’s important.”
“Like what’s for supper?”
He smiled, enjoying her all the more for her spunkiness.
“You don’t have open surreys out there, do ya?” she asked.
“Only the courting carriages are open. Why do you ask?”
She mentioned an elderly aunt who lived in Berne, Indiana, where all the carriages, even the family ones, were open, no matter the season. “It’s surprising, the differences between church districts, ’specially between states.”
Jed agreed.
“Yet some things don’t change. The cloistered life can be stifling for some young folks.”
“You must be thinkin’ of Lily,” he said.
“S’pose I am.”
Quickly, Eva moved from Lily and their Indiana aunt to how nice the weather was for the ride.
“The sky’s clear,” he agreed. “And in a little while, we should be able to see Venus, the evening star.” He pointed toward the west, and she leaned forward to look.
“I wonder if Lily can see it where she is,” Eva whispered.
“She can if she’s searchin’ for it.” He sensed Eva’s great affection for her sister—and apprehension. Curious, Jed dared another glance at her, pleased they had this time together.
———
Eva watched for the golden glow of gas lamps in each Amish home as they rode, speculating how far toward May Post Office Road Jed would take the horse and carriage. She enjoyed that he was more talkative than most fellows she’d dated, even Alfred, especially when the topic of conversation surrounded family, either Jed’s or hers. It wasn’t odd for Jed to bring up Lily, considering all Eva had told him. Still, she felt naerfich—nervous—and protective of her strong-willed sister. Or am I simply overreacting? This respectable young man certainly wasn’t nosey.
“How ’bout if we ride up to White Oak Road?” Jed asked, breaking the silence. “Jonas Byler suggested it.”
“Sure.” She was glad she didn’t have to propose their route.
Jed smiled at her, though she could scarcely see his features now that the sun was down and the shooting rays of light had vanished from the sky.
“Are ya lookin’ forward to getting back to work?” She was anxious to start the conversation again.
“We do have a backlog of orders. Besides that, Bettina might have some news for me when I return.”
“What sort of news?”
“She loves a gut mystery, so she’s makin’ me wait . . . and wonder. But I do have an inkling. Best not to say more till she confirms it, though.” Jed also mentioned their recent celebration of Ascension Day, which he said most Ohio Amish communities observed. “I do know of Amish in Indiana who treat it like any other day, however.”
“Ach, our bishop wouldn’t hear of that.”
Jed nodded. “The businesses in Berlin close, and die Youngie team up to play softball or volleyball. What ’bout here—what did you do?”
“Mostly just played games and went visiting, like a no-Preaching Sunday. Frona encouraged us to spend time thinking ’bout how the day commemorates the Lord’s physical ascension into heaven.” She paused a moment. “Some districts have church; it just depends on the bishop, I guess . . . and the standard custom.”
Jed shifted on the seat beside her. “Would ya say your bishop is traditionally strict, then? ’Specially with the youth?”
“Oh, prob’ly as strict as most older bishops. He’s in his midseventies, same as Abner Mast across the road. Abner is my friend Naomi’s husband.”
“It sounds like Jonas’s bishop is also firm on the Ordnung,” Jed said.
“Well, that’s because his bishop and ours happen to be one and the same.”
&
nbsp; “I would’ve guessed the two church districts might be closer in proximity, then.”
“Actually, it’s been that way since I was little.”
He glanced at her. “May I be so bold as to ask why Naomi is such a close friend?”
“Honestly, Lily was when we were growin’ up. She was my best sounding board, too, but that changed after Mamma died. Naomi became more of a confidante then. She was so close to my mother . . . really wanted me to know I wasn’t alone.” Eva had stuck her neck out and hoped to goodness he wouldn’t probe further. She wasn’t sure she was up to talking more about either Lily or Mamma tonight.
Jed’s voice grew softer. “Life throws us curve balls sometimes.”
“Still, I like to remember that the heart of love is always kindness, even with a difficult family member.”
Jed was mum.
“Ach, sorry. I didn’t mean to talk out of turn,” she said.
“Sometimes the ones closest to us are the real test.” Jed seemed to understand. “In fact, my Dawdi Stutzman has often said that ‘familiarity breeds contempt.’”
“He must’ve read Aesop’s fables, then.”
“As a matter of fact, he has. What about your family—are they big readers?”
“We all are. It’s a gut way to experience new things without ever leavin’ home.” She also told him she liked to read the Bible to start the day.
“Then you must know Psalm 50? Maybe from memory: ‘And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me,’” he recited, smiling when Eva joined him for the last phrase.
“That’s such a comfort,” she said, considering it. “We’re taught to regularly read die Biewel in both Deitsch and King James English, but we don’t purposely memorize Scripture. I s’pose after reading passages often enough, though, they become part of our thoughts. And that’s certainly one of them.”
“Our bishop actually encourages us to study and memorize passages from Scripture.”
She found this interesting but didn’t care to debate the differences between their church districts. Not on their first and possibly only date.
After some time, a half-moon rose, and Eva was able to see Jed better as they made their way along the two-lane road toward the small junction at Nickel Mines. She looked forward to being able to see his expressions as they talked across the table during dessert.
Jed directed the horse into a small café parking lot, where newly painted white lines marked individual spots. “Are you hungry yet?”
“Mostly thirsty . . . maybe for a root beer float.”
Jed grinned, looking quite dapper in his straw hat with its narrow brim. “Whatever you’d like.”
She waited for him to tie the horse to the hitching post, then come around and open her side of the carriage. When he offered his hand, she took it and felt her heart skip a beat.
Chapter Nineteen
THE NICKEL MINES CAFÉ’S DINING ROOM was a narrow space with windows on both sides. The soda fountain sat at the far north end, where, from Eva’s vantage point, its counter shone with a glossy finish. A lone yellow rose adorned each of a handful of tables, the one in the middle of their particular table having lost its vitality. Eva reached out to touch its pretty petals and tried to prop up the blossom with the stem’s leaves. “Looks like we might be the last customers today,” she whispered.
Jed glanced around. “Are you all right here, or would ya like to move to a different spot?”
“One with a perkier flower, maybe?” she joked, surprising herself. Now that she could see his face better, she felt more comfortable. The waning light of the ride over had felt a bit distancing.
He grinned. “So, are ya sure it’s just a root beer float for you?”
The waitress was heading their way, a pencil pushed into her hair above one ear.
“Sounds gut.” Eva leaned back in her chair, letting him order.
Once the waitress retreated to put in their requests, Eva brought up his apprenticeship, and they settled into another interesting conversation. And later, she enjoyed seeing him become even more talkative after a few bites of carrot cake. Must be the sugar, she thought.
“I’d like to see you again before I leave Monday afternoon,” Jed said, appealing to her with his engaging eyes. The way he looked at her, so inquisitively at times, made her wonder what he was thinking. “Is there a place we could go walkin’ tomorrow afternoon following your Preaching service?” he asked.
“I know a spot.” She felt pleased. “Naomi and her husband have a large property with a big pond—I’ll bring some bread crusts to feed the ducks.”
Jed nodded. “I haven’t done that in years. Are ya sure your neighbors won’t mind?”
“Not in the least,” she said most assuredly, her heart already beating more quickly at the prospect of seeing him again.
Why don’t I feel like this with Alfred?
Jed did his best to keep the horse trotting steadily as they headed back toward Eden Valley. He wished the night would slow down. Eva was not only fun to be with; she seemed to be warming up to him.
“What if I wrote you a letter when I get home to Ohio?” He didn’t think it was too soon to ask.
“Well, I’d read it, of course.”
He laughed. “And if you read it, would you write back?”
“Depends on what you write.”
He delighted in her bantering. “I’ll be careful what I say,” he promised.
“Gut, then.”
And they left it right there as their time together drew to a close.
He glanced at her, and she was smiling. Her eyes caught his, and her pretty face brightened all the more. The moment passed between them, and within it was an understanding that neither wanted to let it go.
When they pulled up to the end of her driveway, Jed tied the horse to the nearby fence post and went to help Eva down from the buggy, happy to offer his hand again, wishing he could keep hers in his. Too soon for such affection, he reminded himself as he walked with her to the back door and said good-night.
He returned to the carriage and untied the horse, and it was all he could do to keep from leaping into the driver’s side. Not delaying, he urged the horse back out to the highway, and up and down the hills toward the Bylers’.
A glance at his watch with the help of a flashlight showed that it was much later than he’d planned, and he hoped Eva’s older sister hadn’t waited up. And what might Jonas and Elsie Byler think of his borrowing their buggy and returning it so late? Especially since I’m not out with their granddaughter Orpha!
He remembered something Eva had said earlier tonight, when they were talking. “The heart of love is always kindness.”
He’d read that before, but where? In her book, perhaps?
Pulling into the Bylers’ long lane, Jed wondered what Lydiann might have thought of Eva. Would she have liked her, too? What a peculiar thought, yet considering how much he’d loved his fiancée, he realized it wasn’t strange after all.
Jah, thought Jed, she would definitely approve.
Chapter Twenty
BY THE TIME THEY ARRIVED at Bishop Isaac’s farm a little before eight o’clock Sunday morning, Eva felt somewhat settled, enough to attend worship. But as soon as she and Frona stepped into line with the other womenfolk, one after another began to whisper concerns about Lily. Some even had questions.
Everyone knows, Eva thought, stiffening.
“Have ya heard from your dear sister?” Sylvia Lantz’s grandmother Suzanne asked, blinking her milky blue eyes, her cane dangling off her arm.
“Ach, you mustn’t worry,” Frona said. “Not at your age!” and then added something Eva could not hear in a reassuring tone.
Others, just as well meaning, asked how she and Frona were getting along. Although Eva knew it was all in a spirit of compassion, it nevertheless was beginning to wear thin.
When Menno’s wife, Bena, arrived, Eva observed her walk across the backyard with little
Katie Ann in tow. Their matching blue mother-daughter dresses moved gracefully around their calves, and they had on new black shoes.
“We’ll sit with ya,” Bena said with a sweet smile when she approached. This sister-in-law had always been one to exhibit the utmost reverence for the Lord’s Day. It was one of the reasons Eva’s mother had liked her so well for Menno when they were first dating. Mamma had shared this with Eva when she also reached courting age, wanting to note a good example.
“Denki,” Eva whispered and lowered her head, hoping not to attract any more attention to Frona and herself.
———
During Preaching, Eva fought to keep her mind on the ministers’ sermons—the first one an hour long—and also during the second, lengthier sermon. Their pointed words were a clear warning to young people not to entertain foolish notions. Like Lily’s, thought Eva.
When it was time for the final silent prayer, they all turned to kneel at their wooden benches, and Eva beseeched almighty God to lead Lily home according to His loving and sovereign will. I trust Thy wisdom, heavenly Father. Be our compassionate guide, and strength and comfort. May Thy protecting hand cover my wayward sister, Lily, and grant all of us divine peace.
After the announcements, Eva made her way outside with the other young women her age while the benches were converted into tables for the shared meal. She noticed Alfred Dienner’s mother, Miriam, talking with Naomi Mast on the back porch. Miriam and her sister had been assisting the bishop’s wife with serving cold cuts and pie, but Miriam made a real show of smiling and waving at Eva.
For goodness’ sake, thought Eva. What has Alfred told her?
With a bag of bread crusts in hand, Eva waited for Jed beneath two sheltering oaks that balmy Lord’s Day afternoon. Since her first unexpected meeting with him, Eva believed she’d crossed an imaginary line in her mind, and perhaps in her heart. My sister leaves . . . and Jed arrives, she thought, torn between sadness and exuberance.
She recalled Naomi’s endearing smile after the common meal, when Eva asked if it was all right to go walking with Jed around the Masts’ pond. Not only had Naomi said repeatedly that it was fine, but she offered to leave some treats and cold lemonade in the backyard gazebo, “if you won’t think I’m interfering.”
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