by Jan Drexler
“I . . . I have to finish drying the dishes.” Elizabeth concentrated on the snowy white front of his shirt. “I can’t leave the work to Katie and Millie.”
“Go ahead,” Katie said, taking the forgotten towel from Elizabeth’s hand. “We’re almost done. Millie and I can finish up.”
“You have no excuse then.” Solomon stepped aside, indicating that she should lead the way.
Elizabeth kept her gaze on the floor in front of her as she made her way through the front room of Wilhelm Stuckey’s house and out into the yard. From the comments she overheard, all the women noticed what was happening. A creeping red heat started at her neck and went upward.
“Where does this path go?” Solomon asked, pointing to the trail through the pine woods.
“It goes to our house. The one Katie and I share.”
“Was your husband one of the Stuckey family?” Solomon strolled beside her along the dirt trail.
“Ne. I live with Katie Stuckey. At least I do until she and Jonas marry.”
“Then you’ll live there alone?”
Elizabeth glanced at Solomon’s face, but only saw mild curiosity.
“I’m not certain where I’ll live yet. The Stuckeys are giving the house to Young Peter Lehman when he marries Margaret Stuckey later in the summer.”
“You own a farm, don’t you?”
“My husband owned the farm that borders my father’s and brother’s land. I had thought of moving back to the house there.”
“That old cabin?”
“You know the cabin?” Elizabeth stopped and looked at him. “So, you knew I owned the farm all along.”
Solomon chuckled and kept walking, forcing her to catch up. “I admit it, I asked your brother-in-law about you. But only because I was curious about my neighbor. You wouldn’t consider living in that cabin in the shape it is now, would you?”
Elizabeth shuddered. “I don’t think I could live there again even if it was in decent shape.”
“You didn’t enjoy living there?”
His eyebrows were raised, but his question sounded more like a comment. How much about her marriage would she divulge to a stranger?
“My husband was difficult.” As Solomon nodded in understanding, Elizabeth decided that was all the explanation he needed. “Datt has talked about building a new house for me, but he wants me to live on the home farm, closer to the rest of the family.”
The path opened into the yard of the little house she shared with Katie. Solomon strolled past the chicken coop and the clothesline.
“So, this is the house you live in now?”
“Ja, with Katie.” He stood in the center of the yard, his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the house. Was he waiting for an invitation to come inside?
“It’s a fine little house,” he said, walking around to the front. “Well built and solid. The log walls are quaint.” He stepped onto the porch and turned around to watch the chickens scratching in the dirt along the path.
Elizabeth waved a hand toward one of the chairs. “Would you like to sit down?”
He smiled and a wave of relief washed over Elizabeth. His smile meant he was happy and enjoyed being with her. Could it be that he would choose to court her? She had never been the center of any man’s attention, except Reuben’s.
“Do you mind if we sit here and talk?” Solomon took off his hat and fanned his face. “We were interrupted the other day.”
Solomon sat in Katie’s rocking chair near the door and Elizabeth slid past him to take her seat in the corner of the porch. He leaned back in his chair and pulled on his coat to straighten it.
Once he was settled, he smiled at her again. “How long were you and your husband married?”
Elizabeth’s mouth went dry. “Reuben and I were married for almost thirteen years before he passed away.”
“No children?”
The memory of that young life stirring under her heart brought tears to her eyes. She looked away from Solomon and blinked them away. “We weren’t blessed in that way.”
His eyes narrowed briefly. She had said something wrong. He would leave if she couldn’t steer the conversation back to a more positive topic.
“I suppose you’re right. Some couples never do have children.” He rocked in the chair. “I’ve gotten the feeling that your family thinks it was a good thing when your husband didn’t come home from the war.”
“He . . . Reuben . . . wasn’t Amish. My family didn’t approve of my marriage.”
“But you’re a member of the church?”
“I wasn’t baptized when I married him. That came later, after he was . . . gone.”
Solomon leaned forward in his chair, a warm smile on his face again. “You had said you don’t intend to marry again when we talked before. Is there anything that would change your mind?”
Elizabeth forced herself to look into his eyes. Open, friendly, serious. There was nothing in his manner or his speech that reminded her of Reuben. Life with him would be gentle. Predictable. The way an Amish couple was supposed to live. She pushed her caution away and let a smile pull the corners of her mouth up.
“I don’t know. Perhaps, if I got to know you better.”
Solomon’s smile turned into a satisfied grin. “That’s easily done.” He took her hand. “I think you are a lovely example of what a fine Amish woman can be, and I think you will make the perfect wife for me.”
Elizabeth’s heart pounded as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. He knew about Reuben—it seemed he knew as much about her as her own family did—and he was still interested in her. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and searched his face. Perhaps he was the man she should have married in the first place. She smiled into his brown eyes.
“I would like to spend time with you, to get to know you better.”
His grin widened. “Wonderful. Tomorrow? You can come to my house and see where you will be living. We’ll have a picnic lunch on the front porch.”
“Where I’ll be living?” Elizabeth withdrew her hand, the caution coming back with full force. “I didn’t say I would marry you.”
“Not yet, you haven’t.” Solomon rubbed his hands together. “But you need to see what I can offer you. Please come tomorrow, sometime in the morning.”
Elizabeth paused. Up until she met Solomon, her mind had been closed to the possibility of a future marriage. Closed to putting herself under the power of a man again. But here he was, the man of her childhood dreams come to life. She pushed past that warning bell again. Solomon would be a son-in-law her parents could be proud of.
“Ja,” she said, smiling at him once more, “tomorrow will be fine.”
As Elizabeth stood to walk back to Wilhelm Stuckey’s place, Solomon took her hand and threaded it through the crook of his arm. She was slender and quiet. Not nearly as meek as he would wish, but that would come in time.
Meanwhile, she was coming around. Agreeing to come to the house tomorrow was a stroke of luck. They would be alone, but it was too soon. Too early to press his advantage. That was the mistake he had made back in Pennsylvania. That girl had been just flirtatious enough to fall easily into his hands. As the only child of wealthy Amish parents, she would inherit everything from her father. But his error had been to assume the girl’s parents would be eager to marry her off once they learned she had been compromised.
Elizabeth, though, was as cautious as a doe in an open meadow. He had to be careful not to frighten her away. From what he could tell from the talk about her dead husband, she had reason to be reticent. That was all right with him. He only had to win her trust and she would be his.
“Isn’t that beautiful?” Elizabeth had stopped in the path, her hand still in the crook of his elbow, looking into the pine branches above them. Solomon looked up but didn’t see anything. Was she daft?
“What did you see?”
“Didn’t you hear it?” Elizabeth resumed walking, still watching the branches above them. “It
was a cardinal calling.”
“Sorry.” Solomon stroked the back of her hand. “I was paying more attention to you.”
She blushed at that. This woman wasn’t used to compliments. Solomon filed that information away.
“We’re almost back to Wilhelm’s farm,” she said. “Denki for the walk.”
“We don’t have to end it so soon.” Solomon kept her hand tucked in close. “It’s still early. Is there another path we can take?”
“Maybe another time. I don’t want to miss visiting with my friends. I will see you tomorrow, close to noon.”
He let her hand slip away. When they reached the edge of the farmyard, Elizabeth started walking faster, leaving him behind as she hurried to join the other women. One glance behind her told him all he needed to know. She regretted leaving him.
Solomon watched her until she disappeared into the group of women and he couldn’t distinguish her kapp from the others. Amish women all looked the same, except that Elizabeth was pleasant to look at all around. Walking away was especially enjoyable as her skirt swayed with every step. Yes, he could get used to that.
“Well, my fine fellow,” he said under his breath, “you’ve lucked into a good spot here. A willing widow, one hundred sixty acres of land nearly yours, and more to come.”
He scanned the groups of folks resting in the shade while they visited. A crowd of children played a game close to where the women had gathered, their laughter piercing the afternoon quiet. Solomon made his way in the other direction toward a group of men that included Abraham Weaver. Elizabeth’s father. He needed to get on the old man’s good side.
Nodding to Gideon, Solomon took a seat next to him, one that the one-legged man, Aaron, vacated when Solomon entered the circle. Solomon felt the other man’s stare as he hobbled to the edge of the group and leaned against a tree, but he chose to ignore it.
“Well, Solomon, are you getting settled in?” Abraham asked. Several of the other men leaned forward to hear his answer.
“Without any problems.” Solomon included the whole group in his smile as he spoke to Abraham. “The house is in fine shape and the livestock are in good health.”
“Abel sold his livestock to you as well as the farm?” one of the men asked. Solomon thought he might be one of the Weavers.
“The farm equipment, also. He didn’t want to take anything with him, and it saved me from having to search out the necessary items.” Solomon kept his voice calm to smooth over the suspicious wrinkles on a few of the foreheads. “He was traveling by train, so he only took his clothes and other personal things.”
“I still think it’s strange that he didn’t stop at our place to say farewell,” the younger Weaver said.
Gideon shrugged his shoulders. “He must have been in a hurry. Or perhaps he stopped by when you weren’t home.”
Solomon jumped in to stop the speculations before they went too far. “He told me that he received a telegram and had to act quickly. Most likely, he didn’t have time to say goodbye to his neighbors.”
That Weaver, Solomon thought it might be Samuel, still looked suspicious, so he changed the subject.
“The corn looks to be growing well.” He nodded toward one of the older men. Lehman, if he remembered right.
The man took the bait. “Ja, for sure. It’s a fine year for corn. Growing well and leafing out already.”
“Don’t start building new silos yet,” said another man. One of the ministers. “Take heed, lest you fall into the error of counting your bushels before they’re harvested.”
“Come now, Amos,” said Abraham, “let’s enjoy a good crop while it lasts. If it keeps up this way, we’ll have plenty of work to groan over come harvesttime.”
The other men chuckled, and Solomon joined in.
“How is Abel’s crop doing?” Abraham asked Solomon. “He purchased a new seed drill last year and was hoping it would increase his yield.”
Solomon made a mental note to examine the machinery in the barn and try to figure out which one was a seed drill.
“The corn looks good to me,” Solomon said. “The seed drill must have worked the way he wanted it to.”
Silence followed his statement, then he remembered.
“Any one of you is welcome to borrow it next spring, come planting time. It’s there and waiting.”
The men murmured their thanks, then the subject changed to breaking horses and Solomon relaxed. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Aaron was making his way around the outside of the circle, then stopped when he got to a tree in Solomon’s line of sight. He hadn’t met this man before he came to Weaver’s Creek, as far as he knew. Solomon stared back, trying to fit the man’s face into his memory, but he would never have forgotten that dark red hair and piercing blue eyes. Eyes that watched every move he made.
Solomon shifted in his seat so he wasn’t looking directly at him, but Aaron shifted again so that he could see him out of the corner of his eye. This was irritating. If the man knew him, that could be the end of his plans. But he had never been to Ohio and had never been in an Amish community except the one in Pennsylvania.
Could it be that this man had seen him in Virginia? Solomon pushed the thought out of his mind. Impossible. Even if he had, nothing could be proven. It would be one man’s word against another’s.
But the one-legged man still stared at him as if he could see right through him. Solomon shifted again. He would have to confront the fellow, find out what he knew, and then take care of it.
7
As the afternoon drew to a close, Aaron was relieved to see that Solomon left with the rest of the families. A few of the young people stayed behind to prepare for something Jonas called a Singing.
“It’s for the singles to get to know each other and have fun together,” Jonas said. “Sometimes young folks come to our Singing from other districts or we go to theirs. We look forward to it.”
“Will you be going?” Aaron noticed that the young men staying behind were quite a bit younger than either he or Jonas.
“Ne, not me. I’m too old. And besides, I’ve already found my Katie.”
Jonas looked across the farmyard to the house where Katie was saying goodbye to her friends. Elizabeth was with her, empty dishes in her hands. Abraham and Lydia had already left, walking down the lane toward the main road.
“I suppose we should be going,” Aaron said. “I can walk all the way, but I’m slow. You can go on ahead of me.”
“I won’t leave you behind, but I’m going to walk Katie and Elizabeth home first. Come with us, and then we’ll walk back together from there.”
During the short walk along the path to the cabin in the woods, Katie and Jonas fell behind, leaving Aaron and Elizabeth to lead the way. Giggles drifted in the late afternoon air from the couple behind them, and Elizabeth grinned.
“I hope those two are able to get married soon,” she said. “Katie is miserable on the days when she can’t see Jonas. Is he the same?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Aaron was using only one crutch and had to concentrate on each step. “Although he does look in the direction of that house he’s building more than he needs to.”
“Katie tells me she acts that way because she’s in love.”
Aaron had no response. Being in love was far outside of his experience. The women he had known never lingered in his mind.
Elizabeth stopped in the path, looking into the branches where a cardinal was calling, establishing his territory to all who could hear.
“Isn’t that lovely?” she asked.
“One of the prettiest calls in nature,” Aaron said.
They both listened for another minute, then Elizabeth walked on, humming to herself.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Aaron glanced at her. “What?”
“I was just wondering. When a man falls in love, is it the same for him as when a woman falls in love?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
�
�Well, a woman in love spends all her time thinking about the one she loves. She imagines talking to him and what she will say, and she tries to understand everything he’s doing and saying.” Elizabeth plucked a dandelion that was growing along the path. “Take Katie. She does nothing but talk about Jonas. Their house, their plans, if he needs his hair trimmed, what he ate for dinner, what their wedding will be like. You would think she has no other interests in the world.”
Aaron longed for the companionable silence he usually enjoyed when he was with Elizabeth.
She continued. “And a woman will also speculate about new men that she meets, wondering if he might be the right man for her.”
“Do you mean that Katie is thinking about someone else?”
Elizabeth laughed. He couldn’t remember hearing her laugh before. “Katie would never do that.”
They had reached the house, and Elizabeth led the way around it to the front porch. She skipped up the two steps, then sank into the chair nearest the door with a sigh. Aaron watched her. She couldn’t be talking about herself. The sick feeling in his stomach was beginning to act like an old friend. Elizabeth was smiling, looking at . . . He turned his head to follow the direction of her gaze. Nothing. She was smiling at nothing.
Women.
“I’m going to start for home. When Jonas gets here, tell him I’ll see him there.”
Elizabeth nodded absently.
Aaron picked his way down the lane toward the road. It was a gentle slope, but he hadn’t mastered going downhill yet. Even with the crutch helping him, he was unsteady. He was nearly to the main road when he caught a whiff of tobacco smoke. He stopped as Solomon Mast stepped out from behind a tree.
“I thought you’d come this way,” he said, his voice friendly. He extended his right hand. “I’m not sure I caught your full name.”
Aaron took his hand. Where Aaron’s hand was hard and sinewy from working in the harness shop the past few weeks, Solomon’s was as soft as a clerk’s.
“Aaron Zook.”
“I’m sure you know I just moved to the area from Lancaster County.” He stepped closer to Aaron. “I’ve noticed you watching me. Are you trying to warn me away from Elizabeth?”