by Sarah Price
“Danke, Mamm,” Catherine whispered as she stared at the unexpected gift for a moment.
“I … I don’t suppose you’d mind if I use it for a diary?”
Her mother smiled and patted her arm. “Of course not, Catherine. It’s yours and you can do with it what you’d like. I’m pleased that you want to keep a diary, though. I’m sure you’ll want to remember everything that you do while you’re away. Your sister Sarah will be anxious to hear all about it.”
Catherine highly doubted that was true, but she remained silent on that particular subject.
Her fifteen-year-old sister hadn’t said much about their parents’ decision to permit Catherine to travel with the Andersons. But Catherine suspected that Sarah felt a little jealous, although not necessarily in a sinful way. With Catherine leaving, it would be up to Sarah to step up and help their mother with the cleaning, cooking, washing, and gardening. And while Sarah might not think that was such a good deal, Catherine knew that her sister would benefit from some time as the eldest daughter in the house. After all, regardless of Sarah’s preference for working in the fields, all Amish women needed to learn how to do housework in order to take care of their future families.
“And be careful of the youth out there,” Ruth continued. She rubbed her hands together, a nervous tick that she had developed years ago, when her first child had begun walking. If anyone had a tendency to overthink and panic too much, Ruth Miller was that person. “You know that not all of the Amish communities have good youth. Some of them are quite wild!”
Catherine laughed. “Oh, Mamm! You said that about the Amish youth in Holmes County and Lancaster County! I’m sure that Moreland Lake has just as fine youth as we do.”
Her mother made a sound that indicated uncertainty regarding Catherine’s statement.
“Besides, Mamm, you know I have no interest in running around with youth.”
This much was true. Catherine rarely attended the youth gatherings in their own district. While she enjoyed the singings and volleyball games, she wasn’t partial to riding home with any of the young men. Accepting an invitation of a buggy ride home from one of the young men at the gathering would indicate a mutual interest in initiating a relationship. Catherine was definitely not ready for that. And as far as game nights? She avoided those evenings when the young women played board games and the single men cruised by to “check them out.” Catherine had no desire to settle down with any of the silly men from her own district. Most of them were too young, and not necessarily just in age.
Besides, Catherine’s favorite pastime had always been losing herself in the pages of a good book. For quite a few years, she had enjoyed reading the classics she borrowed from her teacher and the very few people who, like her, indulged in the unconventional pastime of reading fiction. And then she had discovered an author who rewrote those classics set in Amish country. Oh, how Catherine could devour those novels!
To many in the g’may, reading Amish romance novels was still considered a waste of time and even frowned upon; but times were changing.
Her mother leveled her gaze at Catherine and pursed her lips as she said, “It would do you good to spend some more time socializing. I sure hope you’ll attend some singings and other functions while you’re there.”
Catherine knew what her mother was really saying: plainly said, if Catherine didn’t socialize, she’d never get married. And no one wanted a maedel in the family. But, at nineteen years of age, Catherine didn’t want to just settle for just anyone. She wanted to live a life of romance, just like in the books that she read. Oh, when she read about Lizzie and Daniel in that popular Amish romance book published by the Englischers, Lizzie, Catherine knew … just knew! … that there was someone special out there for her. That was what she wanted: a man that connected with her on many levels, just like Daniel did with Lizzie, even though they didn’t care much for each other when they had first met.
But Catherine didn’t speak a word of this to her mother. Instead, she quietly reached for her freshly laundered cobalt blue dress and folded it, carefully placing it on top of her other dress in the suitcase.
“Wilma says that you’re to stay at a small lake house that the Troyers own. You make certain to help her with everything,” Ruth reminded her. “Laundry, cooking, even shopping.”
Catherine fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course she knew she must help Wilma. Her mother didn’t need to remind her about that! Catherine had never been one to sit around and let others do the work. And she had listened to her father complain far too often about how the people in the Englischer communities tended to focus more on their own needs than on the good of the community. From what little Catherine knew about the non-Amish world, people didn’t help others with farming or gardening, unless there was something in it for them. How much nicer the world would be if people could just step outside of their own self-centered world and realize that helping others made life better for all!
Instead, Catherine glanced over her shoulder, watching as her mother paced the floor. “Oh, Mamm, you know that I’d never behave poorly. You needn’t worry.”
For a moment, Ruth paused. She stared at her daughter as if seeing her with fresh eyes. The tension left her shoulders and she managed to smile. “Of course. You’re right.” She paused just long enough to sigh. “Sometimes, Catherine, I forget that you’re all grown up now.”
Catherine returned the smile and gently said, “Never too grown for reminders, but, then again, I have learned from the best maem possible!”
This time, the smile on Ruth’s face broadened and she stepped forward to embrace her daughter, a rare treat in a family that, just like the majority of Amish families, did not often show physical affection. “I will miss you so,” she whispered into her daughter’s ear. “I’ve never been apart from my children for even one day! These two weeks will seem like a lifetime, for sure and certain.”
A lifetime for her mother but an adventure for Catherine.
A half hour later, Catherine and her mother were in the kitchen. Catherine sat at the table folding the laundry while her mother prepared the evening meal. The porch door opened and her father walked inside. With a small smile, he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Getting all ready then?”
Catherine nodded her head, not realizing that her father couldn’t see her. “Ja,” she said. “I’m almost finished with the packing.”
He shut off the water and took the hand towel that his wife gave him. “Danke,” he said as he dried his hands and the back of his neck before walking over to the table. “Now Catherine, I’m sure your mamm has told you to behave proper.”
“Daed!”
He held up his hand to stop her. “Nee, Catherine, it’s better to just say it outright and be done with it. I know that you aren’t the kind to do anything silly or rash. But you haven’t been away from home before so I just feel better reminding you. That’s all.”
Quietly, she looked down at the floor and sighed.
“And you won’t know those youths there so you best listen to the Andersons. People come from all over to vacation at this lake place, and not all of them Amish. That means that the Amish youth that live there year-round are a little worldlier than the youth you usually interact with, here at home.” Her father leveled his gaze at her, his steely gray eyes studying her face. “Use prudence and caution.”
“And it gets cold at night! Make certain you pack your heavy coat!” her mother added.
Catherine took a deep breath and bit her tongue from fear of making a sassy remark.
“And don’t go walking around alone,” her father went on. “Lots of tourists in that town, I’m sure. They won’t be as mannerly as the Englische around here.”
She tapped her toes against the floor, waiting for the litany of instructions and words of caution to finally end.
“And one last thing,” her father said at last. He waited until she looked up before he reached into his back pocket and withdrew an enve
lope. Slowly, he slid it across the table toward her, his fingers still on the edge. “Figured you’d need some pocket money. You’ll certainly want to buy a new book or two, ja?”
Her eyes followed the envelope. When he left it in front of her, she lifted her eyes and stared, wide-eyed, at her father. “Oh, Daed!” She reached out for the envelope, hesitating before she pulled it closer.
He cleared his throat. “Now, that’s more cash than you’re used to having, so I want you to be careful.”
“Use that journal!” her mother added. “It’s best to keep track of your spending!”
Catherine felt a lump in her throat and nodded. With eight children, money was not something that came easily to the Miller family. She knew that any extra cash given to her was much more than a gift; it was a sacrifice. She hadn’t expected such a contribution. In fact, she hadn’t thought about spending money at all. “Danke,” she whispered. “I … I’ll be careful for sure and certain.”
Satisfied, her mother smiled and returned her attention to the kitchen chores. She needed to bake bread for the family, a daily task for her but one that Catherine usually helped her with. Today, she would not be helping her mother. Instead, she would finish packing, for the Andersons were coming to fetch her in just another hour, for the drive to the lake.
“Hey, now!” Her oldest brother James walked into the kitchen, pausing to kick off his dirty boots at the door. Removing his hat, he hung it on a peg on the wall and shook his head, his sweaty brown hair still sticking to his forehead, the blunt cut making him look like a young boy, though he was almost twenty-two. “Wie gehts?”
“You’re back a day early now, aren’t you? You must be hungry!” Ruth hurried to fix him a plate of food.
“Ja, we finished the barn building early so the driver fetched us this morning.” He plopped down at the table and sighed. “And nee, I’m not hungry but a coffee would hit the spot, for sure and certain.”
Unlike the other Miller children, James didn’t work on the farm. With so many children per family, land in their community was becoming scarce and pricey. As a result, many a young Amish man had taken to apprenticing in more worldly trades. Some used complicated machinery requiring computer skills to calibrate and fabricate metal parts shipped around the world. Others chose more traditional trades, working in leather shops or building buggies and carriages, mostly for their local communities. James had a job with an Amish man who had a construction company. They built outbuildings and barns in nearby towns, but as their reputation for quality work grew, they were asked more and more frequently to erect a barn, a garage, or a large pole building in a different state. Sometimes James spent days or even weeks away from his parents’ farm. The younger children, especially the boys, thought that it was exciting, but Catherine could tell that the time away from home and the travel were draining on her brother.
He glanced at his sister and kicked at her foot under the table. “Everything all right around here, then?”
“Your schwester’s getting ready to leave us,” Ruth responded as she placed a cup of coffee in front of James. “For Banthe.”
“Banthe?” James gave his sister a half-hearted grin accompanied by a small laugh. “Oh, ja? What for? Your rumschpringe?”
Carefully, Catherine folded and then tucked the envelope against her palm. It was better that no one knew about the envelope of money. She didn’t want any of her siblings accusing her parents of playing favorites.
Before Catherine could answer, her father ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing up on end. “The Andersons are taking her. They invited her last week.”
“They’re vacationing for a few weeks on the lake since their niece lives there, and her husband is having a work frolic,” Catherine added in a soft voice. “Wilma wanted some company and invited me to come along.”
“Huh! Don’t that beat all. A lot sure happened in the week I’ve been gone, now don’t it?” He drummed his fingers against the table top. “You deserve a little fun, Catherine, for sure and certain! Always working … or with your nose buried in a book!” he teased.
She made a face at him and he laughed again.
“Who are the niece and nephew?”
“Troyer’s the name, Vern and Susie Troyer,” his father answered before he glanced at his wife. “Any coffee left in that pot for me, too, Ruth?”
Within seconds, Ruth handed him a cup of hot coffee in a chipped yellow mug.
“Troyer, you say?” James looked up toward the ceiling as if thinking about something. “Related to John and Ida Mae Troyer, who are about my age?”
Catherine frowned and stared at James, curious as to how her brother might know the family.
“One and the same. Vern and Susie are their parents.”
Catherine could no longer contain her curiosity. “How would you know them, James?”
For a moment, her brother looked at her with a sheepish expression on his face, as if admitting the acquaintance was an admission of guilt to some dark secret that he had hidden from her. It struck her as odd because James never kept secrets from her. He was only two years older than her and they were as close as a brother and sister could possibly be.
He shuffled his feet and looked down at the ground. “Oh, at one of the nearby youth gatherings I met them. A few summers ago, I reckon.”
“Do you keep in touch with John then?” Catherine asked.
“Ja, a bit. During the off-season, there’s not much to do in Banthe, so his youth group sometimes comes to ours, especially when we are gathering in Chelsea. That’s only thirty minutes from Banthe, you know.”
Perhaps she would have met John Troyer, too, if she were more inclined to go to the youth gatherings that sprung up from time to time in different districts. But she wasn’t as partial to those events, preferring the quiet of the house to read. And that was what she was looking forward to: reading. She would have fewer chores at the lake, and she could envision herself sitting on a pretty porch, a glass of cool lemonade or meadow tea on the arm of an Adirondack chair and with a book on her lap as she listened to birds chirping and cicadas buzzing. In her mind, that would be the best day possible: peace and quiet to lose herself in one of her Amish romance novels.
“If you know the Troyer’s nephew, I’m surprised you didn’t know about the frolics.” Her comment was meant innocently, but from the way his cheeks reddened, she wondered if, perhaps, he actually had known about them.
“Enough talking, I suppose,” Ruth said over her shoulder. “You best go finish packing now, Catherine.”
“Okay, Maem,” Catherine replied as she stood up, the envelope of money in her hand.
“And don’t forget that coat! Remember what I said about the cool evenings. No sense in you getting sick while you’re there. You don’t want to be a burden to the Andersons.”
“Alright, Maem.” Catherine hurried to the stairs and quickly ascended, her mind wandering over which books to bring and completely forgetting the coat.
Chapter 3
“Oh, Catherine!” Wilma said when the young woman emerged from the small bedroom where she had left her suitcase. “Isn’t this just wonderful?”
She stood at the large picture window and stared outside at the lake. It was only a few hundred yards away and the sun shimmered on the glasslike surface. The reflection of the blue sky was beautiful, and Catherine stood beside Wilma in silence for a few minutes, appreciating the gift from God.
“And I didn’t realize that the dawdihaus was so far from Susie’s! Why, it feels as if we are all alone here at the lake!” From the tone of her voice, it didn’t sound as if Wilma was unpleased with the situation.
The door opened and Duane walked in, his arms filled with firewood.
“Oh, dear!” Wilma hurried over to him. “It’s too warm for a fire, Duane, don’t you think?”
He nodded and gestured with his head toward the back door. “There’s a fire pit out there. We can cook on that. Easier to bring it through the
house than around,” he explained. “And won’t heat up the house.”
Without being asked, Catherine hurried over to open the back door.
Wilma, however, commented on the dirt that was tracked into the house.
“I saw Vern just now,” Duane said when he returned to the house. He slapped his hands at his chest and belly to loosen any lingering dirt. Ignoring Wilma’s scowl, he headed toward the counter and sat upon a stool. “Susie’s gone to visit a sister-in-law who just had a baby. Apparently, she won’t be back till tomorrow.”
That bit of news did not sit well with Wilma.
“Oh! That’s awful. Didn’t she know we were arriving today? Why, I had hoped that she’d show us around a bit. Perhaps take us to the store to fetch some food. Surely she thought of that?” The question did not warrant an answer. “She could have introduced us to people. We know no one here.” She glanced at Catherine. “And who will take Catherine to meet some of the young folk? She can’t just barge in on their gatherings!” She paused and, with a tilt of her head, asked, “Could you?”
Catherine shook her head. She’d no sooner do that than break one of the commandments! Without a proper introduction, she’d have no choice but to wait until Susie’s return. In truth, she didn’t want to mingle with people she did not know. Nor did she really mind a delay. It just meant more time lingering in the shade of the back porch that overlooked the lake. And with her new book, Emma, beckoning to her, Catherine thought that a day of reading sounded appealing, indeed!
“This is terrible, Duane,” Wilma continued and began pacing the wide plank wooden floor, which squeaked under her weight.
“Susie’s absence is not going to harm anyone,” Duane replied with a weary tone to his voice. “And the two of you can certainly bicycle to the store to pick up anything you have forgotten to pack, although I dare say from what I unloaded, you seem to have packed quite a bit.”
Wilma shook her head and mumbled some more about how people didn’t seem to have any common sense when it came to how they treated friends and family. After a few minutes of listening to this, Duane sighed and stood up, informing his wife that he wanted to walk over to Vern’s house and take a look at the place. His escape did not go unnoticed by Catherine, who wished, for just a moment, that he had asked her to accompany him.