“Would you like a scarf?” Anna asked. “I knitted one last week.”
A scarf in the third week of June would be toasty, but Lily could pretend she was cold and wrap it around her face. A perfect excuse not to talk to Aden.
“Jah, I would love a scarf.”
Anna burst with delight. After drying her hands, she bustled to her hall closet and pulled out a deep purple scarf and a green one exactly the color of Aden’s eyes. Anna handed the purple scarf to Lily. It felt fuzzy and oh so soft.
“Oh, my. This is beautiful,” Lily said.
Anna gave Aden the green scarf. He took it without complaint, though Lily knew they would both be sweating within minutes.
Aden shrugged and curled his lips into a good-natured smile. “Come on, Pilot.”
The dog tore his gaze from Lily’s face and eagerly followed Aden out the door. Lily wrapped the scarf around her neck and then covered her nose and mouth. Perfect.
She ambled behind the barn to the raspberry patch, which probably covered an eighth of an acre. Stakes were already in the ground with three levels of wire strung between them.
Aden emerged from the barn with the dog trotting cheerily behind him. He took one look at Lily with her ridiculous scarf-mask and his eyes danced. Twitching his lips as if he were trying to hold back a laugh, he said, “Lips cold?”
Lily was glad for the scarf covering half her face since she was certain her cheeks had bloomed bright red.
Aden’s scarf hung casually around his neck, lending added brilliance to his eyes. Their depth only strengthened Lily’s resolve to stay away from him. She could lose herself in those eyes.
Getting lost was dangerous.
He handed Lily some shears and a ball of twine. “Some of the canes are tall enough to stake to the second wire.”
Lily nodded. He laughed.
After cutting herself a piece of twine, she sat in the dirt next to the first raspberry plant, picked a cane, and tied it to the wire. Aden sat in the dirt on the opposite side of the row and started tying his own canes.
She got along fine until that mutton-headed dog sauntered toward her. Standing over her like that, he could lick her whole head if he wanted to. Why in the world couldn’t Aden babysit his own dog?
Ignoring the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach when she came near a dog, she held up her hand as if stopping traffic and spoke in a loud, authoritative voice so she could be heard through the scarf. “No, Pie Man. Get away.”
The dog halted in his tracks, tilted his head, and let out a little whine. All that dog needed was a firm hand and a little discipline. He stared at her pathetically for a moment, then lay down with his paws resting in front of him.
“Good. Stay.”
She looked at Aden, who seemed intent on tying his bushes, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Didn’t he feel even a smidgeon guilty that he should have been the one disciplining his dog?
Lily tied another cane before glancing at the dog to make sure he still behaved himself. She was a bit startled to discover that he lay in the same position but that his front paws were mere inches from her foot. How had he managed that?
While tying the next cane, Lily watched Aden’s dog out of the corner of her eye. He scooted toward her, quarter inch by quarter inch, until his massive front paws touched her foot. Swallowing her fear, she narrowed her eyes and scowled at him, which probably didn’t look too fearsome with a scarf over her face.
The dog lowered his head and pretended to settle in for a nap.
When she looked away again, she heard him scoot closer and felt him lay his snout on top of her shoe. She didn’t want to hurt him so couldn’t very well kick him away. There was probably no harm in letting him stay there. Her shoes had been exposed to lots worse germs, and he didn’t seem inclined to bite.
“He likes you,” Aden said.
Lily merely nodded. Why couldn’t Aden and his dog leave her alone?
Aden slid toward her to reach the next raspberry plant. “You must have heard some truly horrible things about me.”
“What?”
“The way you’re acting, you’ve probably been cautioned to stay far away from me, and it’s kind of hard when you work on my grandparents’ farm.”
Confusion overtook her. She was so embarrassed she wanted to wrap her entire face in the scarf and run to the safety of the house. But with her eyes covered, she’d probably trip over her own feet, fall to the ground, and get licked to death by the dog.
“What . . . what do you mean?”
Aden stood up and walked to where she sat. He squatted down, facing her. The sneaky dog crawled forward and laid his head in her lap. An attack from both sides. Lily didn’t move a muscle.
“You’re a nice enough girl, but you don’t like my dog, and I already told Mammi that’s the end of it.”
Lily couldn’t make heads or tails of what he said. Jah, he was an odd young man.
“Look,” he said. “I’m not out to corrupt you or drag you down with my sinful ways. I’m not in Wisconsin recruiting for the devil’s team. I’m here to help Mammi and Dawdi and hopefully find a place where people won’t judge me harshly.” He massaged the side of his face. “Mammi is determined to put us together, and I’d rather not spend the entire summer in silence because you’re afraid of me. Can we call a truce and be friends?”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Lily said, wishing for a subtle way to lose the scarf.
“Jah, you are.”
“My dat . . .”
“What about your dat?”
“He told me to stay away from you.”
Aden snorted his displeasure.
“I don’t want to be rude, but I must obey my father’s wishes.”
Aden shook his head. “Did he forbid you to talk to me?”
“Yes. Nae. Not exactly.”
A ghost of a grin played at his lips. Lily hadn’t expected that. “But he said you have to cover your mouth when I’m around?”
Lily whipped off the scarf and hurled it to the ground. “Nae.”
Aden drummed his fingers on his jaw as if deep in thought. “So how far do you need to stay from me to be obedient to your fater?” He scooted two feet away from her. “This far?”
She didn’t know how to answer.
He scooted back farther. “This far?”
Lily lowered her eyes to look at the dog in her lap. She scratched his head, if only to have something to do with her hands. “Maybe that would be okay.”
“So, as long as I keep a distance of four or five feet, your fater will be satisfied?”
Lily felt herself blushing again. Why did she feel so transparent? “I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to go against your dat. You must be comfortable with the distance. How far back do you want me to stay?”
Lily laced her fingers through the curly fur on the dog’s head. “You are right. It is a little silly.”
“Not silly at all. I don’t want to go against your fater.”
The dog licked the back of her hand, and she sighed in surrender. “Four . . . four feet is enough.”
“Gute, because I think that is the diameter of Mammi’s table. At least we can eat dinner together.”
He flashed that nice smile, and Lily’s heart beat an uneven rhythm in her chest. For such an odd young man, he was certainly charming, even if he was making fun of her.
Aden pointed to his dog, who had rolled onto his back as if wanting Lily to rub his tummy. “And what about Pilot? Should I make him stay away too?”
“He wouldn’t listen. He is the most disobedient dog I’ve ever seen.”
Aden scooted back to his original spot and picked up his shears. “I’ve been in jail three times.”
“What?”
“Only three. Not seventeen times, like I heard yesterday.”
Or dozens, as Estee had told her. The plainly boastful glint in his eye put Lily on the defensive. “Three is a lot.”
“Three times more than you’ve been in jail, I bet.”
Lily scratched the dog’s stomach vigorously as her agitation grew. “I would never think of getting arrested. It’s irresponsible.”
Aden didn’t seem offended by her subtle reprimand. “Do you want to know why I went to jail? The truth is probably less dramatic than your imagination.”
“It’s none of my business. I should not let your past keep me from doing my Christian duty.”
His lips twitched upward. “Sounds like something an Amish fater would say.”
This young man was infuriatingly perceptive. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. I heard a lot of talk like that in Ohio, and yet people still avoided me.”
Lily smoothed her hand along the dog’s neck. His fur felt especially soft there. “We’re not like that here in Bonduel.”
“Your fater told you to stay away from me. It sounds like you’re exactly like that in Bonduel.” He pinned her with that brilliant gaze. “Or maybe it’s just you, Lily Eicher.”
Lily’s face felt like she stood right next to a blazing-hot cookstove. “Don’t blame me for your choices. You did something bad enough to be arrested. I would be deerich, foolish, not to be cautious around you.”
Her words didn’t seem to anger him, but they hit their mark. He slumped his shoulders in resignation. “You are right. Of course you are right. For all you know, I could be a murderer.” Then the bitterness crept into his voice. “Four feet isn’t near far enough from someone like me.” He picked up his twine and scissors and stood up. “I’ll go weed tomatoes.”
Lily felt a little hitch in her throat as she watched him tromp away. She’d been hurtful when all she’d wanted to be was right. A sense of shame washed over her. She had always tried to befriend the ones that everybody picked on, not alienate them.
The dog rolled and lifted his head. Lily pulled her hands away. She’d been petting Aden’s dog. How had that happened? The dog stood up, gave Lily a yip of disapproval, and turned away from her. He followed Aden to the vegetable patch without looking back.
It seemed she was unworthy of even the dog.
Well, good, because he was a dirty, bothersome brute. She pulled a small bottle of sanitizer out of her pocket and slathered it all over her hands, but she still felt germy and unclean. There wasn’t a bottle of hand sanitizer big enough to sterilize her nagging conscience.
Aden trudged into the house for a drink.
Mammi, it seemed, had been watching for him. She greeted him at the door with a plate of gingersnaps. “How are you two coming along out there?”
“The tomatoes are weeded, but the raspberries are going slow.” Aden grabbed a cookie and bit into it. Or tried to. He’d forgotten about Mammi’s rock-hard gingersnaps. The cookie scraped against his teeth like a pebble. “Delicious, Mammi,” he said, slipping the cookie into his pocket to be eaten when he could soak the thing in a glass of milk.
“What about Lily? Isn’t she wonderful?”
“We’ve decided to stay away from each other.”
Mammi threw her hands up in the air, which was a bad thing because the cookies on her plate flew in several directions. One bounced on the table and leveled the salt shaker. “My goodness,” she said, “look what trouble I’m in.”
Aden motioned for his mammi to stay put, got on his hands and knees, and gathered the scattered cookies.
Mammi bent over so she could look Aden in the eye while he crawled around. “You young people are so uncooperative! I feel like I have to do all the work myself.”
Aden remembered how much he loved his mammi and tried not to sound frustrated. “She’s not interested.”
“Nonsense. She barely knows you. If you stay away from her, she’ll never get to know you, and then how, might I ask, will she fall in love?”
Aden found all the cookies he could, stood up, and deposited them on the plate Mammi held out to him. “Mammi, I know you mean well, and I’m happy to let you find me a wife. I don’t want to sound picky, but do you think you could find me a girl whose fater doesn’t hate me?”
Mammi looked puzzled for a moment. “David Eicher just needs to get to know you. He smothers that girl so she can’t hardly breathe. Things will get better. Have another cookie. They’re my special recipe.”
Aden sighed inwardly and grabbed two cookies off the plate. They might as well have been golf balls.
Mammi would never give up.
He lost all hope.
Chapter Six
Aden listened as the preacher droned on and on about Matthew 5:9. Blessed are the peacemakers. Even though this was his first time at gmay, Aden had a sneaking suspicion that the sermon was meant specifically for him. He didn’t intend to take the message lightly, but he found his mind wandering. Contrary to what the people in his new district might believe, Aden had spent his whole life trying to be a man of peace. He just seemed to stir up a lot of trouble at the same time.
Aden shifted on his bench. Some men, no matter how righteous, were not meant to preach sermons. This particular preacher might as well have been reading the phone book.
Aden peered across the room at Lily. She sat with her arm around a Down syndrome girl who looked about the same age as Lily. Lily, in rapt attention, nodded at all the appropriate moments in the sermon. Well-behaved. Lily Eicher was well-behaved. He found that particular quality quite endearing. Aden always desired in his heart of hearts to be well-behaved. He admired people who could actually do it.
She glanced at him and caught him staring, quickly looked away, and turned bright red. Oy anyhow, how she must hate him. It was his own fault. He’d put her on the defensive the other day and no doubt hurt her feelings. The poor girl wanted to be obedient to her father. He couldn’t blame her for that.
She was, after all, well-behaved.
In hopes of finding a more suitable marriage candidate, Aden let his gaze travel over the girls sitting on the same bench as Lily. She was prettier than any of them by a country mile, but good looks weren’t the only important thing in a wife. Maybe he should hold interviews after services.
Do you like big, unruly dogs?
Can you cook vegetarian?
Will your fater allow you to date a young man with a police record?
One of the girls sitting on Lily’s bench held a baby, probably a little brother. He fussed while she patted his back in quiet rhythm. He coughed and then spewed the milk from his stomach onto the girl’s white apron. She gasped and passed the baby to her mother, who sat on the row in front of her. The front of her apron was soaked through to her dress.
The preacher took no notice. “When the righteous die, they enter into peace. There is no peace for the wicked.”
A younger girl in the back row tittered softly. Ladies on the bench in front of the wet girl passed burp rags and tissues to clean her off with. She took the offerings and wiped her apron as her eyes filled with tears. No flimsy tissue would dry her.
With a minimum of fuss, Lily reached across two other girls and took the drenched girl’s hand. She gave the girl a reassuring smile, pulled her from between the row of benches, and led her down the hall to a bathroom.
Aden slid off his bench as the preacher called for a prayer. Once the prayer ended, everyone got back on the benches and pulled out their Ausbund hymnals. The Vorsinger, or lead hymn singer, sang the beginning of each new line and everyone chimed in after him. Halfway through the hymn, Lily and the other girl reappeared.
The girl had removed her soaking apron and wore what must have been Lily’s apron over her wet dress. Her eyes were red with crying, but she only sniffed twice before Lily led her back to her seat. Lily, wearing the wet apron, took her place next to the special girl, who smiled brightly at Lily’s return. In her blue dress, Lily looked like a patch of sky peeking out from behind the clouds.
Not that she needed anything to make her stand out. Her golden-yellow hair and full, pink lips succeeded in doing that just fine. Was she a
ware of her beauty? Probably not. Such things were not discussed among the Plain people. A well-behaved, humble girl would not want to attract attention.
Once services ended and Aden had helped the other men move benches and stack them into tables, Aden found a spot between two strangers for the noon meal. They were both boys about his age.
The boy on his left had a pleasant face, straight dark hair, and unusually long eyelashes. Aden sat down, and the boy immediately turned to him and stuck out his hand. “Tyler Yoder.” He had a firm handshake and a confident, serious air about him.
Aden smiled. “Aden Helmuth.”
Tyler looked at the peanut butter sandwich on Aden’s plate. “I hear you only eat vegetables.”
Aden chuckled. “Nae, I don’t eat meat. But I eat most everything else.”
“Peanut butter?”
“Jah.”
Tyler studied Aden’s face and nodded. “You have a heart for the animals.”
Aden almost dropped his jaw. Tyler was the first Amish person Aden had encountered who didn’t act like he thought being a vegetarian was strange. Tyler seemed to understand or at least refrained from passing judgment on Aden’s choices.
“There are a lot of reasons to be a vegetarian,” Aden said. “But yes, I’d rather not see any living thing die for my eating pleasure.”
“You take after your dawdi,” Tyler said. “Felty has been known to catch spiders in his house and set them free in the woods.”
“Jah. I am very like my dawdi, bless his heart.”
“Are you an environmentalist?” Tyler asked.
Again, Aden couldn’t hide his surprise. “I didn’t think any Plain people knew what that meant.”
Tyler’s eyes seemed to smile although his lips stayed put. “I dabble in stuff like that.”
“Really?”
“My dat and I have an organic dairy. Organic milk sells for almost twice what you can get for regular milk.”
Aden’s heart swelled at the thought of someone he might be able to relate to. “I’m hoping to have my own organic farm someday if I can find a gute piece of property.”
Huckleberry Summer (Huckleberry Hill) Page 4