by Leigh Bale
“Miller is a fairly common name. My mudder isn’t Amish and I don’t think she ever lived in Ohio,” Julia said, trying not to feel a bit defensive.
“Julia! Hurry and eat. I want you to play baseball with me.” Hank sat nearby, his cheeks bulging with food as he wolfed down his meal.
Whew! Julia was thankful for the interruption.
“Henry David Hostetler! Sei net so rilpsich,” his mother reprimanded him in a stern voice. “You should swallow your food before speaking.”
Looking ashamed, Hank instantly swallowed with a big gulp. He then leaned one elbow on the table and looked dejectedly at his plate, no longer interested in eating. Julia had never seen the boy look so forlorn.
“What did your mudder say to him?” Julia whispered to Martin.
He chuckled softly. “She told him not to be rude.”
Julia’s heart wrenched. “But he looks so sad now.”
“Then hurry with your meal and we won’t disappoint him,” Martin said.
Avoiding Marva’s steady gaze, she ate quickly. Soon, she laid her fork down and took a last swallow of water. “I’m done. Shall we play baseball?”
Hank popped out of his chair like a jack-in-the-box and came to take her good hand.
“Ja! Komm on,” he cried.
As she turned, she saw that a game had already started in the fallow hayfield. They didn’t wait for Martin to untangle his long legs from beneath the table as they hurried toward the baseball diamond. Julia tossed him a glance over her shoulder, knowing he was following behind, laughing and shaking his head.
Right then, she decided that she loved work frolics with the Amish. In fact, there were a lot of things she loved about these people.
* * *
“Run, Julia! Run!” thirteen-year-old Alice Schwartz yelled.
“Ja, run, Julia,” Hank chimed in.
Martin had hit the ball for her and she sprinted toward first base. Even with the extra encouragement, she wasn’t fast enough. James Yoder, one of the bishop’s teenage sons, tagged her out.
Martin frowned, thinking he should have assigned himself to first base and had someone else hit for Julia. He would have ensured that she made it in safe. For some reason, he felt protective of her.
Like always, she took the out good-naturedly. He was impressed by what a good sport she was.
“You’re too fast for me, James,” she said with a breathless laugh. “Next time, I’ll ask Martin to knock it to the other side of the field.”
James just smiled shyly. Julia returned to the dusty area on the outskirts of Bishop Yoder’s hayfield that had been designated as the “out” area.
“That’s okay, Julia. I get tagged out all the time. I’m never fast enough either,” Hank said.
Martin watched the two as they laughed and chatted together. Hank was like a younger brother to her.
Too bad her mother hadn’t joined them today. Martin was sure that, if Sharon would simply soften her heart, she would enjoy being with them, too. Over the past few weeks since he’d known them, he’d observed that Sharon had no friends. She didn’t do anything but work and rest when she got too tired. That wasn’t much of a life. And even though he’d been as kind to the woman as possible, he didn’t know how to get through to her. Julia was all light, fun and joy. But Sharon seemed the complete opposite—dark, morose and sad. He knew something was holding her back from becoming friends with the Amish. Something big. Why did she dislike his people so much?
The next batter got another out, so they changed sides. Now Julia became the first baseman.
Little Hannah Yoder, the bishop’s six-year-old daughter, came up to bat. The child looked tiny standing there, her legs and arms so thin as she lifted the heavy bat.
“Pitch softly,” Martin called to Jakob Fisher, who was the pitcher.
Jakob nodded and tossed the ball ever so gently, ensuring the girl got a hit. Pressing her tongue to her upper lip, Hannah swung hard, knocking the ball just a few yards away.
“Run, Hannah! Run!” the other children yelled. Martin noticed that Julia screamed encouragement, in spite of being on the opposing team.
Hannah took off at a sprint, running as fast as she could go. As she approached first base, her long skirts tangled around her legs. She fell, reaching her arms toward the base and skidding in the dirt.
“Oh, Hannah!” Julia cringed.
“Safe!” one of the boys called, waving his arms over top of the sprawled girl.
Hannah promptly pulled one knee up against her chest and burst into tears. Martin watched as Julia scooped the child into her arms to comfort her. She held her injured hand away, using the strength of her forearm to cuddle the child.
“There, there, sweetums. Let me see. Where are you hurt?” Julia spoke in a sympathetic voice.
Martin hurried to the base, accompanied by the other players. As they crowded around, Hannah continued to cry.
Julia drew back enough to see the injury. The child’s black tights had been shredded across the knee, her skin bloodied by the small abrasion. Thankfully, it didn’t look too serious.
“I got hurt,” Hannah cried as giant tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I know, boppli,” Julia cooed. “But I think you’ll be okay. We need to clean this up and put a bandage on it. You’re so brave.” Julia looked up, searching the crowd of faces until she saw Martin. “Can you carry her to the house?”
He nodded, his heart swelling with joy that she had sought him out.
“Of course. Komm to me, Hannah.” Copying Julia’s sympathetic voice, he reached for the child. Still crying, Hannah thrust out her arms and clung tightly to his neck as he carried her across the field.
A trail of children followed.
“Is she all right?” Hank asked, trotting along beside him.
“Ja, she’ll be fine.” Julia looked into Hannah’s eyes and smiled. “Won’t you, boppli?”
Hannah nodded, her little chin quivering as she tucked her face against Martin’s chest.
The moment Sarah Yoder saw her daughter was hurt, she came running.
“What happened?” she cried.
Julia quickly explained, trying to lighten the moment. “But she made it safe to first base.”
“She did, huh? That’s gut!” Sarah seemed surprised as she examined the wound.
“Ja, she ran really hard,” Hank said.
“Ach, that’s my girl. Now, let’s get you inside.” Sarah took the girl into her own arms and headed toward the back door to the kitchen.
Julia went with them but Martin blocked the way so the other kids wouldn’t follow.
“Hannah is going to be okay. Go on back to your game now,” he told them.
They did as asked and Martin entered the house. He found Julia seated at the table. Hannah was perched on the kitchen table with Julia rubbing her back in a circular motion. Sarah was searching the cupboards and soon pulled out some antiseptic and little bandages.
Within moments, the ruined tights had been removed and the wound cleansed. When Sarah reached for the bandage, Hannah hugged tight against Julia.
“I want Julia to do it,” Hannah said.
“That would be fine,” Sarah said, handing over the bandage.
Smiling as if she had been awarded a great honor, Julia pulled the sticky strips off and put the bandage on the wound, pressing it down with a gentle touch.
“There! That didn’t hurt too much, did it? You’re almost good as new,” she said.
Hannah looked at her knee and smiled, showing a tooth missing in front. “Danke, Julia.”
“Gaern gscheh, boppli.” With one last hug, Julia set the girl on her own two feet.
Once again, Martin couldn’t believe how good Julia’s Deitsch was getting or how sweet she was with children. Without a doubt, he knew Julia would make
a wonderful mother.
“Would you like some ice cream? Your vadder churned it especially for the frolic,” Sarah told Hannah.
The girl nodded and took her mother’s hand. The two walked outside together.
“That was nice,” Martin said.
Julia nodded. She didn’t speak for a few moments. Her eyes shimmered with moisture as she stared after the child.
“You know, I was so sad when Mom and I first moved here to Colorado,” she finally said. “I felt lost and afraid. But now, I feel so happy inside. So calm and peaceful. And I know it has to do with all that I’ve been learning about God. I feel closer to Him than ever before. It also has to do with you and the new Amish friends I’ve made. Because of you, I don’t feel alone anymore.”
He stared at her, fascinated by the way her hair glimmered in the fading sunlight. “That’s nice. I’m glad you feel that way. I liked how you cared for little Hannah.”
“She’s a sweet girl. I felt so bad that she fell down.”
He grunted. “You’re very nurturing.”
She laughed. “That’s not a characteristic I would use to describe myself. I always thought I was a bit rough, not nurturing at all. But with both my parents’ illnesses, I’ve learned a lot.”
He shrugged. “We are always changing, growing and learning. Certain situations bring out different sides to our personalities that sometimes surprise us. My grossmammi used to say the older we become, the more we become the person we really are inside.”
“Grossmammi?”
“Grandmother,” he supplied.
“That’s a nice saying. I like it,” she said. “It’s probably true. I used to think I was weak and dependent upon my parents. Maybe that’s why I clung to Dallin so much.”
“Dallin?”
“My ex-fiancé. He dumped me so he could marry my best friend, Debbie. He lied and stole from me, too.”
“Ah, that wasn’t very kind,” he said.
“No, it wasn’t. I was afraid of being alone. But after my father died, I learned to be strong and independent. My mother depends on me and I can’t let her down. I promised him I’d always take care of her,” she said.
“One of the Ten Commandments is to honor your father and mother. Sharon is blessed to have a dutiful daughter like you,” he said.
She laughed off his words. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
He stepped closer and she looked up at him. For several moments, he felt mesmerized as he gazed into her beautiful eyes.
“Julia, would you komm with me, please? There’s something I want to show you before the daylight is gone.”
He held out his hand. Without speaking, she reached over and enfolded his fingers with hers. The warmth of her touch sent currents of energy pulsing up his arm. He led her out the back way, skirting around the house so they wouldn’t be seen. In silence, he harnessed his horse to the buggy and they drove away.
“Will we be missed?” she asked as the horse settled into a quick trot.
“My vadder will know not to worry about us,” he said.
She chuckled. “I doubt that will provide any solace for Hank when he discovers we’re gone.”
“Ja, he is crazy about you. He tells everyone that you are his girl,” Martin said.
She smiled at that and they rode for a time in silence.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked once they were a mile down the road.
“You will see.”
Within minutes, they arrived at their destination and Martin pulled the buggy off the side of the road. The dusky sky allowed just enough light for them to see before the sun faded behind the Wet Mountains to the west. With the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in the east as a backdrop, the vast fields before them showed nothing but drab brown.
“In the summer, this will all be green with growth,” he said.
“Where are we?” she asked, huddling within her coat and shivering.
He reached into the back and grabbed the warm quilt he kept there before spreading it over her legs. “This is my place. My farm.”
He tried to prevent a note of hochmut from entering his voice. Hochmut was the arrogant pride of the world and something he should shun.
She nodded, gazing at the barren land with curiosity. Without looking, he knew it was dotted by a few boulders and scrubby trees that he would remove once he set the plow to the fields. But just now, he could hardly take his eyes off Julia, eager to see her response.
“It’s lovely. I can see why you bought this land. It’s close to town and filled with promise,” she said.
He exhaled, realizing he’d been holding his breath. For some reason, he wanted her approval more than anything. “I’m glad you like it. I’ve got sixty-five acres with good water rights. I’m going to grow barley, oats and hay. It may not look like much right now, but one day, this land will all be fenced off. The rocks and boulders will be removed and the fields will be full of life.”
“It’ll take a lot of hard work but I know you’re up to the task,” she said.
He nodded and pointed to the east. “Over there, I’ll build a fine barn like my vadder’s. And over there, I’ll plow the ground for a vegetable garden.” He pointed to the west. “Over here, I’ll build a fine house for my fraa. I’ll put up a clothes line for the laundry and build flower beds and a nice lawn for my kinder to play on.”
She stared, her eyes unblinking as she took in his every word. “I imagine you’ll want a chicken coop, too.”
He laughed and nodded. She seemed so intuitive. “Ja, my familye will need plenty of eggs and chickens to eat.”
“Have you ever killed a chicken?” she asked, her eyes crinkled with repulsion.
“Ja, many times. Does that upset you?” Oh, how he hoped she wasn’t squeamish about such things. After all, the Amish raised what they ate. It was the way things were on a farm.
“Ne, I’ve cooked meat many times. It doesn’t bother me as long as I don’t have to kill it myself.”
“Then I would do it for you,” he promised.
She frowned and looked away. It was then he realized what he’d just said. He hoped she didn’t assume he was proposing marriage. Because he wasn’t. She was Englisch. They could never wed.
“Jules, I...I didn’t mean that you and I would, that we would—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “I know what you meant. It’s all right.”
She was quiet then, as if absorbed in her own thoughts. He gave her some space, letting her think. Then, he decided to confess something to her.
“I’ve almost given up hope of ever marrying but I have faith Gott has a plan for me. It’s just that you’re so easy to talk to, Jules. And sometimes, I feel as if I can confide anything to you. It’s like I’ve known you all my life. But in my heart of hearts, I know we can never be anything more than friends,” he said.
There. He’d spoken what was in his heart. The next step would have to come from her. She would need to decide what she wanted in life and whether she would convert or remain Englisch.
“If I were to convert and marry an Amish man, would my husband let me keep my soap store and continue selling my products?” she asked.
Hmm. He blinked. Interesting how she’d asked that question. “I cannot speak for all Amish men, but I certainly would allow it. I wouldn’t tell my wife what she could and could not do.”
“I’m glad you’re not like that,” she said.
He heaved a deep sigh. “I’ve heard that some Amish men are cruel and domineering, though I know Bishop Yoder would never tolerate such abuse within our Gmay. He’d put a stop to it quick.”
She smiled. “Yes, knowing the bishop as well as I do, I don’t believe he would allow such things to go on. And I can’t imagine him dominating Sarah.”
Martin laughed at the thought. “Many of our weibsl
eit, including my own mamm, make crafts to sell in town. Baked goods, cheese, rag rugs, furniture, you name it. It helps supplement their familye incomes.”
She nodded, deep in thought.
“I believe both spouses should be in their marriage by choice and not because they are forced,” he said. “I would rather lead my familye to do what is right with love and kind persuasion, not with an iron fist.”
“That is gut. I’m happy to hear that,” she said.
They didn’t speak again for several moments and he hoped he’d said the right things. But deep inside, he meant every word. He didn’t know what to expect. For Julia to fall into his arms and ask to be baptized immediately? No, of course not. Her life wasn’t that simple. After all, she had her mother to think about. Converting to the Amish faith was a huge and complicated commitment. Her first obligation was to her mother.
As night closed in on them, he drove her home in silence. And when they arrived, they found her mother standing on the front porch, waiting for them. She had a heavy shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her face creased with concern.
Martin helped Julia out of the buggy. “Danke for going with me tonight.”
“And danke for a wundervoll evening.” Her voice sounded whisper soft.
He nodded, hardly able to speak. As she turned and hurried to her mother, his throat felt tight and he couldn’t swallow.
“Hi, Mom. Oh, how I missed you. I wish you could have gone with us.” She embraced Sharon in a tight hug.
“It’s late and I was worried,” Sharon said, her voice trembling.
Martin wondered if she’d been crying. He hoped not.
Together, the two women went inside and Martin couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation. As she closed the door, Julia glanced back at him and waved.
Martin climbed into the buggy and headed home. As he drove through the cold night air, his chest ached. He would never ask Julia to go against her mother. He could see that they loved each other and it wouldn’t be right. His faith taught him that a child must honor their parents. And because he would never leave his faith, that meant he and Julia could never marry.
They would never be anything more than friends and that hurt most of all.