An Amish Wedding

by Kathleen Fuller; Beth Wiseman Kelly Long

  The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon, bringing on the chill of the night. He couldn’t sit in Naomi’s driveway trying to figure things out. He picked up the reins and made his way back to Chester’s house, trying to calm his rocked feelings. He wasn’t an immature kid who didn’t know his own heart. He’d felt loneliness before. Even physical attraction, which he’d always made sure not to act on. And now, an attraction that ran deeper than the physical, deeper than anything he’d known before. But he’d never experienced this kind of rejection before, and it was like someone put his heart in a vise and tightened the screws. A big part of him wished he hadn’t taken the risk in the first place.

  Risk. He pulled up on the reins, slowing the horse to a near stop. A beam of headlights shone in his face, but he barely noticed. That had to be what she was afraid of. She’d been hurt in the past, he was almost sure of it. Why else would she be so reluctant to trust him? He had to reassure her that he wouldn’t hurt her. If he waited much longer she would be too caught up in the wedding preparations to see him. Or she would use that as an excuse. Naomi King had no shortage of those.

  A car whizzed by, honking its horn, and he realized he was going slow, even for a buggy. He spurred the horse to a trot, paying more attention to the road. But in the back of his mind he prayed. How can I reach her, Lord? Please, tell me—

  He stopped midprayer, realizing this wasn’t about him. He’d lived his life striving to obey the Lord, to do His will. “Do you want me to reach her, Lord?” he said aloud. “If so, show me how.”

  Chapter Nine

  “ZEKE, THERE’S SOMEONE HERE TO SEE YOU.”

  Zeke looked up from the book he was reading in the guest bedroom and looked at his uncle. Who in Paradise would be coming to see him on a Sunday night? Then his heart gave a little flip. Naomi. Maybe she’d changed her mind about talking to him. “Tell her I’ll be right down.”

  “I didn’t say who it was,” Onkel Emmanuel said, frowning. “How did you know?”

  “Had a feeling.” Zeke grinned.

  When his uncle shut the door, Zeke turned back to the mirror, smoothed down his hair, and pulled up his suspenders. Then he took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his clean-shaven chin. He bounded down the stairs two at a time, then skidded to a stop before walking into the living room. Slow down. No need to pounce on the maedel. I’m trying to woo her, not terrify her.

  With measured steps he walked into the living room. But he couldn’t help the grin that appeared in anticipation of seeing Naomi again.

  “Hello, Zeke.”

  Zeke halted, disappointment slamming into him. He kept the smile plastered on his face. “Hi, Margaret.”

  She twisted the end of the kapp ribbon between her thumb and forefinger as she stared at the ground. Her face was flushed, but he couldn’t tell if it was from shyness or if she was still ill. He also couldn’t figure out what she was doing here. When she didn’t say anything for a moment he said, “Would you like to sit down?”

  “Ya.” She nodded a little too briskly and made her way to the chair. Her foot caught on the wooden stool in front of it, and she pitched forward.

  Zeke grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. When she looked at him this time, her cheeks were the color of pickled beets.

  “Sorry.” Her voice was barely audible. She sat in the chair and smoothed out the gray skirt of her dress.

  “It’s okay. I’ve tripped over that thing a couple of times.” He sat down on the couch across from her and ran his hands over the tops of his pants. “What brings you by, Margaret?”

  She finally met his gaze, and the brightness in her blue eyes took him aback. Had Naomi convinced her to try their date again? He wouldn’t put it past her. But Zeke had no intention of leading Margaret on. He opened his mouth to say as much when she suddenly spoke again.

  “I came by to apologize.” She started twirling the ribbon again, then stopped and glanced away.

  “Apologize? What for?”

  “For running out on you during supper after I choked. I shouldn’t have done that, especially after you saved my life.”

  Zeke shook his head and shifted on the seat. “It’s okay.”

  She shook her head. “Nee, it’s not. I didn’t even thank you properly.” She sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I always turn into a klutz when I’m nervous.”

  He couldn’t help but smile a little. “You’re not a klutz, Margaret.”

  “And you’re being nice.” She looked at him, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

  “Well, maybe you’re a little klutzy, but we all are at times.”

  “I’ve seen you working on the roof. I have a hard time believing you’re klutzy.”

  “On roofs, nee. But I’ve taken my fair share of spills.” He leaned forward. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Or to thank me for. I’m the one who’s thankful, that I was there to help.”

  Margaret stared at him, then sighed. “Why is it all of the gut ones are taken?”

  He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m not taken.”

  “Not yet. But you will be. Soon, I hope.” Margaret stood. “When I saw you and Naomi together, I knew there wasn’t a chance for me. I saw the way you looked at her. The way she looked at you.” She sniffed and brought out a tissue she held in her hand. “You two are meant for each other.”

  Zeke popped up from the couch and went to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I didn’t even know about the supper the other night. I thought I was having dinner with—”

  “Naomi. I know.” Margaret wiped her nose. Her eyes started watering. “We kind of tricked you, a little.” She brushed away the tears with the back of her hand.

  He had no idea how to comfort her. “Margaret, I feel really bad about this. Please don’t cry.”

  “Cry?” Margaret looked at him, frowning. “I’m not crying.” Then she looked at the tissue in her hand. “Oh, this. I’m still nursing this cold. Can you believe I got one on top of the stomach flu?”

  Zeke moved a few inches away from her.

  She chuckled. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to get sick. Although I feel better today than I have in a while.” She smiled. “I’m not upset, and my feelings aren’t hurt. Naomi deserves a gut mann, Zeke. I think you’ve proved more than once that you are one.”

  Zeke cleared his throat, embarrassed by the compliment. He stepped away from Margaret to gather his thoughts. He thought he’d dreamed that he’d seen something special in Naomi’s eyes when she looked at him, but now Margaret confirmed it. “I’m glad you think Naomi and I should be together. I happen to agree with you. But she’s determined to push me away.”

  Margaret nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. We’ve been freinds for a few years, and she’s headstrong sometimes. I don’t think she realizes how stubborn she can be. But don’t give up on her.”

  “I don’t plan to. But right now I don’t know what to do.”

  Margaret tapped her finger on her chin. Then her brow lifted. “I think I do.”

  Zeke listened to Margaret’s plan. “Do you think it will work?”

  “Ya. I think it will. As long as we give her a little bit of time before we do anything. The question is, are you willing to do it?”

  He nodded, despite a few doubts. But he couldn’t be choosy right now. “I’ll do anything to get her to talk to me again.”

  NAOMI OPENED HER EYES TO THE SUNLIGHT STREAMING through the window. Sunlight! She sat up in bed and looked at her alarm clock. Nearly seven o’clock. How could she have overslept? But she knew the reason why—she’d tossed and turned the night before, wondering if sending Zeke away had been a mistake. She hadn’t seen him for days. She missed him.

  Then she remembered David’s abandonment and convinced herself she’d made the right decision. She remembered a quote she’d read long ago. Better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all. But she had loved and lost, and she couldn’t g
o through that again. Yet today her soul wasn’t any more at peace than it had been last night.

  The rest of the day everything seemed off balance. She burned the peach turnovers and miscounted a customer’s change. At the end of the day she went to her parents’ house, not wanting to be alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t seen much of her mother and father this week. She followed the smell of fresh baked bread back to the kitchen.

  When she walked inside, Sarah Mae jumped into her arms. “Naomi!”

  “Gut to see you too, little one.” She kissed Sarah Mae’s cheek and set her down, her sister’s exuberant greeting just what she needed to hear. Sarah Mae ran over to the table where she was helping Priscilla peel apples. Naomi set down her book satchel on the corner of the kitchen counter and joined her sisters.

  “You look tired,” Priscilla said, quickly winding a paring knife around a ruby red apple.

  “I am.” She looked at her sister, who seemed pretty calm considering she liked things to be on schedule and under control. Naomi saw Sarah Mae struggle with the apple peeler. She settled the child in her lap, put her arms around her and her hands over the peeler, and guided her.

  It wasn’t long before Sarah Mae got bored. She wiggled out of Naomi’s lap and landed on the floor. “I’m going to find Mamm,” she said and flew out of the kitchen.

  Priscilla chuckled. “I’m surprised she stayed here this long. At least she got one apple peeled.”

  “What are these for?” Naomi picked up the discarded peeler and an apple and started peeling with quick, practiced movements.

  “Applesauce. We thought we’d make a couple extra batches beyond what’s needed at the wedding.”

  Naomi frowned. “I didn’t know you were all getting together.”

  Priscilla put down the finished apple. “It was a last-minute thing. Plus you’ll be busy with your class tomorrow.”

  Naomi shook her head and picked up another apple. “I canceled my classes for the next couple of weeks. I thought you knew that.”

  Priscilla looked at her. “Oh nee. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Margaret called for you last night.”

  “What did she need?”

  “She called about your cooking class, and she asked if you could do her a favor.”

  “Sure.” Naomi moved to get up. “I’ll go outside to the call box and give her a call.”

  Priscilla put her hand on Naomi’s arm, keeping her in place. “You don’t have to do that. She already gave me the message. She has a special friend who wants to take your class tomorrow.”

  “But she knows I’ve canceled my classes until after the wedding.”

  Priscilla nodded. “That’s why she needs the favor. She said her friend is leaving in a couple of weeks and won’t be able to take another lesson.”

  Naomi frowned. “Is this friend Englisch?” She had to be. Naomi couldn’t imagine an Amish woman desperately needing a cooking lesson.

  “Margaret didn’t say.” Priscilla leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest, covering the thin white ribbons of her prayer kapp. “What if it is their only trip to Paradise?”

  Naomi considered this. Some of her cooking students traveled from as far as the West Coast to Amish Country. She hated the idea of disappointing someone, and Margaret wouldn’t have asked her for a favor if she really didn’t need one. This friend must be very special. “Maybe I can teach one of my shorter lessons.”

  “What about strudel?” Priscilla uncrossed her arms and gestured to the white-handled paper bags of apples on the table. “We have plenty of apples. All you would need would be the ingredients for the pastry.”

  Naomi nodded. She always kept plenty of pantry staples on hand. Then she frowned. “But what about tomorrow? Are you sure you and Mamm won’t need my help?”

  Priscilla shook her head vigorously, her bright expression the exact opposite of what it had been a moment ago. “Hannah will be here. Between the three of us we can handle it.” She grinned. “Danki, Naomi.”

  “Why are you thanking me?” Then she paused. “Do you know the student?”

  “Nee, of course not.” Priscilla snatched an apple and began peeling it, keeping her head down. “I just appreciate you not being upset with me for forgetting to tell you Margaret called.” She hesitated and looked at Naomi. “It seems like everything has been going wrong lately. I’m a little worried about the wedding.”

  “Don’t be. Everything will be fine.” She smiled. “Just think, if you and Chester can get through this, you can get through everything.”

  “I hope you’re right. About getting through it, that is.”

  Naomi’s smile dimmed, wishing she could say something that would give her sister confidence. There had been a cloud of bad luck surrounding them lately. Besides the accident with the quilt and Abe breaking his wrist, progress on the house was much slower than expected. But despite the catastrophes happening around them, Chester and Priscilla loved each other. That was what really mattered.

  Later that night Naomi went home. She’d intended to start over on the quilt this evening, but instead she had to prepare for her unexpected student tomorrow. She hoped the woman would be a quick study and that the lesson wouldn’t last too long. But she wouldn’t shortchange her. As Naomi prepared the ingredients, Zeke came to mind again. How he’d offered to help her with the quilt. The way she felt when their hands accidentally touched as they washed dishes. The rejection in his eyes when she told him to leave.

  She sighed and plopped down on the kitchen chair. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? At least she didn’t have to worry about seeing him again. Until the wedding. But even then she could avoid him by making sure she was busy in the kitchen or serving the wedding guests. Then he would go back to Middlefield, and she would never have to see him again. Or think about him. Which relieved her. Or so she tried to tell herself.

  NAOMI SET OUT THE MIXING BOWL ON THE TABLE AND stood back. She had everything ready for her lesson, including an index card with the recipe neatly written on it attached to the gift bag she usually gave her students—a long-handled wooden spoon, a metal eggbeater, a handcrafted potholder, and a collection of her favorite recipes written on cards and bound with a silver ring. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the table. Nine forty-five. Her classes started promptly at nine thirty. Maybe the student changed her mind. Naomi had to admit she wouldn’t mind if that were the case. It wouldn’t take her much time to clean up everything and get started on the quilt, which was weighing on her mind.

  She heard a knock at the back kitchen door. On Saturdays she put a sign on her front door instructing her students to enter through the kitchen. She smoothed her apron, said a quick silent prayer that the lesson would go well, and answered the door. “Oh. Zeke.”

  Zeke’s brow shot up. “Wow. That’s some greeting.”

  “Sorry. It’s just I’m expecting a student to arrive at any time.” She started to close the door. “So I can’t talk right now, but I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  Zeke put his palm against the door. He didn’t push back, but he held the door in place. “Hold on a minute.”

  She stopped. “What?”

  “You’re expecting me.”

  Naomi frowned. “What?”

  This time he did push back. Not forcefully, but enough to make her take a step backward. “I said, you’re expecting me.”

  “Zeke, I don’t have time to figure out riddles. I have a cooking student coming any minute. You really need to geh.”

  He stepped into the kitchen and removed his hat. “Naomi, the cooking student you’re expecting . . . is me.”

  Chapter Ten

  NAOMI GAPED AT ZEKE. “YOU’RE MY SURPRISE STUDENT?”

  Zeke nodded and walked farther into the kitchen. “Ya.” He breathed in deeply. “And from the smell of things in here, you’re going to teach me how to make something appeditlich.” He turned and grinned.

  She stormed toward him. “This isn’t funny,
Zeke. My cooking classes aren’t a joke.”

  His smile faded. “I never thought they were. I’m serious. I’m here to take your class.” He dug into his pocket and handed her several bills. “Here’s the payment for the class and supplies.”

  She looked at the money in his outstretched hand, but didn’t take it. He shrugged and set it on the nearby countertop. He looked completely calm, while inside she was bubbling like a pot of forgotten stew.

  “Priscilla told me that Margaret had a friend who wanted a cooking lesson.”

  “That’s true.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Since when did you and Margaret become friends? Or did you lie to her to get her to help you?”

  All traces of humor in his eyes disappeared. “Just a minute, Naomi. I didn’t lie to Margaret. It was actually her idea.” He gave her a pointed look. “You’re not the only one who can play matchmaker.”

  Naomi sucked in a breath. “Why would Margaret do this?”

  “Because we both knew you wouldn’t see me otherwise.”

  She couldn’t deny his words. Her gaze dropped to the money on the counter. Three twenty-dollar bills, neatly folded. She picked up one and handed it back to him. “I only charge forty.”

  He didn’t take the bill. “The twenty is to pay for quilt fabric, since I ruined yours.”

  She hesitated, then put the twenty back on the counter. By the determined tilt of his chin, she could see he wouldn’t budge. All right, if he wanted a lesson, a lesson he would get. She’d deal with Margaret later. And once she and Zeke finished, he would leave her alone. She hoped.

  “Fine. Let’s get started.” She crossed the room and picked an apron off the peg on the wall. She tossed it at him. “First, put this on.”