Summer Storms

by Amy Clipston

  Decision made, he went back to the new field. Enoch planned to plant lettuce, beets, spinach, peas, and kale in the freshly plowed ground. They would be harvesting well into October, but Judah didn’t mind helping out until then. It meant more time to get closer to Sarah. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked her out, and it wasn’t the first time she’d said no. But she’d said yes plenty of times too. She was unpredictable. Almost playing hard to get . . . but in the end Judah would get her, and she would be worth it.

  Esther kept her head down as she nibbled on a tiny taste of butter pecan ice cream, one of the Parlor’s signature flavors. She glanced up at Judah, who was attacking with gusto a double scoop of Triple Fudge Delight in a waffle cone. They were seated at one of the small, round tables that had room for only two. Around them, customers—both Yankee and Amish—were milling near the counter, trying to decide what frozen treat to order.

  She’d been stunned when Judah asked her to go with him to get ice cream tonight. Stunned and confused. He’d never asked her out before, and she wasn’t foolish enough to think they were on a date. She could wish they were on a date, but she knew better.

  Judah licked a spot of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “Gut ice cream, ya?”

  She looked up and froze. Ice cream was the last thought on her mind right now. “Um . . .” Where were her words? No wonder Judah wasn’t interested in her. She was practically mute.

  He leaned back in the chair, his mouth lifting in a half grin. “Nee need to be shy around me, Esther.” He winked and took another bite of his cone.

  If only that was more than a friendly wink. Judah was open-hearted and, yes, friendly—two more reasons for her to be attracted to him. But she was . . .

  Sigh. She was silent. Nervous. And she didn’t stand a chance with Judah.

  “So . . .” He pushed back his chair and put his ankle over his knee. “What’s Sarah up to tonight?”

  Esther shrugged, returning her gaze to her ice cream.

  “She didn’t tell you about her plans?”

  She looked up again and saw the tension underneath his calm exterior. That made her want to ease his mind. “I think she went over to Celia’s. She’s a Yankee freind Sarah has known for years.”

  “Oh.” He seemed to mull that over in his mind. “Okay.” His shoulders relaxed as he polished off his cone.

  Esther’s ice cream was melting. Forgetting about taking tiny bites, she licked around the top edge of the cone. She started to say something else, but when she looked at Judah, he was staring at her. At her nose in particular.

  “You’ve got . . .” He grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table, then leaned forward and wiped the tip of her nose. “Ice cream,” he said, balling up the napkin and putting it on the table.

  Her face reddened. She couldn’t even lick an ice cream cone without making a mess. “Sorry,” she said, tempted to throw away the cone.

  He shrugged. “It was kind of . . . cute.”

  She froze for the second time, barely feeling the cold drips of ice cream over her fingers. Cute? He thought she was cute?

  “You going to finish that?” He tilted his head toward her cone. When she shook her head he took the cone from her. “Hate to waste gut ice cream.”

  Normally she did too, but right now she was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Judah had not only said she was cute, but he was also eating her ice cream. Maybe there was more to tonight than him quizzing her about Sarah. Maybe he was attracted to her and somehow she’d missed the signals. Missing signals wouldn’t surprise her—she wasn’t exactly experienced when it came to dating and flirting. Maybe this really was a date—

  “Do you know if Sarah’s free tomorrow?” He took another lick of her ice cream. “I’ve got mei open buggy all cleaned up and thought she’d like to geh for a ride.”

  Esther’s heart sank. She’d love to go for a ride with Judah in his open buggy. “You’ll . . . you’ll have to ask her.”

  He grinned. “I will.” He polished off the rest of the cone. “You ready to geh? I’ve got stuff to do tonight.”

  She picked up the napkin and threw it away. She’d eaten approximately three bites of her ice cream. The evening was turning into a big disappointment.

  As she climbed into Judah’s buggy, her foot slipped. “Hey,” he said, catching her elbow. “Watch yer step.” And although she didn’t need his assistance, he held on to her as she got into the buggy.

  “Danki for yer help, Judah,” she told him when he got in and took the reins.

  “Nee problem. Did I ever tell you about the time I slipped and fell facedown in the mud? Almost chipped a tooth on a rock.” He smiled and tapped on one of his front teeth. “If I had, I would have deserved it. I was mouthing off at Mamm after church.”

  “I can’t imagine you doing that,” Esther said, folding her hands in her lap.

  “It was before we moved here. I was about ten, and she wouldn’t let me geh over to a freind’s haus.” He chuckled. “I can’t even remember which freind that was now. But at the time I thought Mamm was the meanest woman in the world.”

  Esther laughed. “I tried running away when I was about that age.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” He guided the horse onto the street and headed for Esther’s house.

  “Ya, I did. I think I was nine, and I informed mei parents I was moving into the barn.”

  “Wait . . . You ran away to the barn?”

  “You know how far the barn is from our haus. At least five hundred yards.”

  Judah started laughing. “I thought you were going to tell me you packed yer bags and took off down the street.”

  “Oh, I packed a bag. It was a small paper one that had held apples.”

  “The ones with the handles?”

  She nodded. “It fit exactly one dress, one pair of socks, and mei toothbrush.” Grinning, she added, “Just the essentials.”

  “Of course.” He tapped the reins lightly as a car sped by. “What was yer parents’ reaction?”

  “Daed told me to clean the barn while I was out there.”

  Another laugh from Judah. “That sounds like him.”

  “Mamm actually packed me a lunch. She was pretty supportive, considering I was running away.”

  After a pause Judah asked, “What were you upset about?”

  “I didn’t want to share a room with Sarah anymore.” She was tempted to add that Sarah had been almost unbearably messy as a child, but that wouldn’t be fair to her sister. She was almost as tidy as Esther was now. And her messiness wasn’t the real reason. “I wanted mei own space,” was all she would admit.

  “How long did you live in the barn?”

  “Two nights, with some food deliveries from Mamm. After that she said I had to geh back in the haus. I was glad to. It was all right sleeping in the barn for a little while, but I missed mei bed. I even missed Sarah.” She glanced at Judah. “A little.”

  She expected him to say something about Sarah now that she’d given him the opening. But he didn’t. He stared straight ahead for a few moments. They were nearly to her house when he turned to her. “I always thought you and Sarah were close.”

  “We are. But we had our fights and scrapes growing up. We’re both so . . . different.”

  “Ya,” he said, his warm eyes drifting over her face. “You two sure are.” He continued to look at her, letting the horse take the lead. Which made her wonder—could he possibly see something in her he liked, even though she was so different from Sarah?

  Judah’s horse knew the way to her house as if it were his own. Then Judah turned away, taking control of the reins again. When he pulled up in front of her house, she started to get out of the buggy.

  “Thanks for going with me,” he said.

  She glanced over her shoulder and almost smiled. At least he appreciated her company. And she had to admit, it was fun talking about their childhoods. She hadn’t felt nervous or anxious at all. It had been nice
. Natural. Normal.

  “Tell Sarah I’ll see her tomorrow.”

  Friendly. So much for him seeing her as someone other than Sarah’s sister. Biting the inside of her cheek, Esther nodded. As he drove away, she fought the jealousy growing inside her. She loved her sister, and she didn’t want to be jealous of her. But when it came to Judah, she couldn’t help it.

  She also knew she couldn’t keep pining after him this way. It was only a matter of time before Sarah decided to settle down, and when she did, Esther knew it would be with Judah. How could she choose anyone else? Not a single man in the district could compare to him. Soon Sarah would realize that, and then what would Esther do? Continually covet? She couldn’t live like that either.

  Turning, Esther headed toward the house, rubbing her temples. Something had to give, and soon.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE NEXT MORNING IT WAS BLISTERING HOT, EVEN WELL before noon. Esther carried out a jug of cold water and cups to her daed, Reuben, and Judah. She handed Judah his cup and then poured water into it for him. He drained it quickly, pushed his hat back, and smiled at her. “Danki, Esther. That hit the spot.”

  And just like that, she was smitten again, as if he hadn’t made it 100 percent clear last night that he was completely enamored with Sarah. Would she ever learn?

  “Could I have a little more?” he asked, holding out his cup.

  She nodded, mute once again. After she filled his cup, he took off his hat and poured a little of the water over the back of his neck and the rest over his head. All she could do was stare.

  Judah handed her his cup, then picked up his hoe and went back to work. Esther walked over to Reuben, who was working farther downfield. She poured a cup of water and handed it to him.

  “Had to give water to yer boyfriend first?” Reuben said, smirking before downing the water.

  “He’s not mei boyfriend,” she hissed.

  “You wish he was.” He took the jug from Esther and filled the cup again. “Try not being so obvious about it.”

  She sighed. No sense in arguing with Reuben, since he would continue to tease her until she was fed up. “It’s pointless anyway,” she muttered.

  “You and Judah?” Reuben took another long drink. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

  That made her snap to attention. Did her brother know something she didn’t? “What?”

  He shrugged. “I hate to admit it, but we men sometimes have blinders on. We don’t see that the best thing is right in front of our eyes.” He smiled. “Don’t lose hope, Essie.”

  Grimacing, she took his empty cup and walked away. He was the only one who called her that. Most of the time he said it to bug her. Her frown faded as she realized Reuben was trying to encourage her. She glanced over her shoulder at Judah, who seemed to be concentrating on his work. Reuben’s words gave her a bit of hope . . . which was suddenly dashed when she heard Sarah call out Judah’s name.

  “Judah!” Sarah strode toward him, all confidence and beauty and grace.

  Not wanting to see the two of them together, Esther walked over to her father. He was crouched on the ground, sifting the plowed dirt through his fingers—his ritual before planting seed every year. When she asked him why he did it, he merely said, “Tradition,” then went back to work. “I brought you some water, Daed.”

  He rose from the ground, a little more slowly than in years past. He was only in his late forties, as was Mamm, but both of them had threads of silver in their hair and a few crinkles around their eyes. “You’re a blessing, Esther. Hottest daag we’ve had all summer.”

  She started to hand him a cup, then changed her mind and gave him the jug. He drank almost all of it in one gulp. Wiping the water from his mouth, he said, “We might need some more.”

  “I’ll geh back and fill the jug. We don’t have any tours set up for today.”

  Daed frowned. “Maybe we should stop taking reservations and open the place to the public. I’ve been trying to convince yer mamm of that, but she wants to guard our privacy. Can’t really blame her for that.” He looked over at Judah and Sarah. “Wonder what they’re talking about.”

  Despite herself, she glanced their way. Sarah was talking animatedly, the way she did when she was excited or angry. She didn’t seem upset, and from the smile spreading across Judah’s face, she must be excited about something. That extinguished the last shred of hope Reuben had instilled. Esther looked away when Sarah touched Judah’s shoulder. “I’ll get you some more water, Daed.” She took the empty jug from him, and he was already kneeling back down and touching the dirt again. Tradition.

  As she walked toward the house, Sarah joined her. “Isn’t it exciting?”

  “What?” Esther said, not slowing her steps or caring what was so exciting between her and Judah.

  “Rhett Davidson will be here sometime tonight.”

  Esther nodded. She had forgotten about the college student who was staying with them for a month.

  Sarah clasped her hands together. “I asked Judah if he would show Rhett around Middlefield. I’d ask Reuben, but you know how he can be.”

  “Unpredictable.” Which was true. As the youngest of the three, he was an excellent and committed farmer, but that didn’t extend to any other part of his life. While he still dressed Amish and lived and worked with the family, he had yet to join the church. Esther often wondered if he would. He was twenty, and both she and Sarah had joined by that age.

  Mamm and Daed didn’t seem concerned, but Esther was. She wanted her brother to be a full part of the community, not chasing outside interests. Not that he’d given any indication he was. He just held back from joining the church for some unknown reason.

  “I told Judah I’d go with them.” Sarah sighed. “I can’t wait to meet him. With a name like Rhett, he has to be handsome, right?”

  “He’s a Yankee, Sarah. Handsome or not, it shouldn’t matter to us.”

  “You’re always so serious. There’s nix wrong with a little appreciation of God’s creation.”

  Esther fought not to roll her eyes. There was plenty wrong with it, and when it came to Judah, it was something she struggled with. But Sarah didn’t need to know that. “When does he arrive again?”

  “Tonight. Mamm said he had to finish up a summer class and then he’d drive right over from Ohio State. Maybe he’ll take me for a ride in his car.”

  “Sarah, are you listening to yerself? Why would you want to ride around in a car?”

  “Because it’s different. Don’t you get tired of the same thing all the time? Get up. Do chores. Work. Go to bed. Do it all over again.”

  “That’s not all we do. There’s visiting with familye and freinden, church services, weddings, barn raisings, frolics, singings—”

  “And that’s all fun, but there’s a lot of drudgery in between.”

  Esther stopped, concerned. She faced Sarah. “Are you saying you want to leave the church?” she whispered.

  “Good heavens, nee.” Sarah looked shocked. “All I’m saying is . . .” She tapped her finger against her chin. Even in the sweltering heat, while sweat ran down Esther’s back, Sarah’s cheeks were a lovely shade of pale pink, and there wasn’t a single indication that she was the least bit hot. “I want to experience life to the fullest.” She tapped Esther on the nose. “You should try it sometime.” Then she practically skipped toward the house.

  Esther’s shoulders slumped. Didn’t Sarah realize Esther wished she could be lighthearted and spontaneous? After all, that’s what Judah liked. The one time she’d tried to emulate her sister, it had gone badly. Her cheeks heated at the memory, which made her perspire even more.

  She’d approached Judah one day in May. He wouldn’t start working with Daed and Reuben for the season until the next day, but traditionally the three men got together the evening before to plan how they would divvy up the farm responsibilities. He usually ate supper with them all season before going home to his parents’ house, where he still lived with his younger
brother and three sisters. She knew he would eat with them this night as well.

  She’d practiced walking gracefully for an entire week, imitating Sarah’s tinkling laugh and the way she looked at Judah with her chin dipped down and her eyes wide and sparkling. Although Esther thought she looked ridiculous in the mirror, she still worked at it, perfected it, until she thought she was as close to Sarah as she could possibly get.

  “Hi, Judah,” she’d said when he arrived that night for supper. She’d opened the door and touched her chin to her chest, then batted her eyelids several times.

  “Uh, hi, Esther.” He frowned. “Something wrong with yer eyes?”

  “Nee.” She stopped batting them, which was good, because it was giving her a headache. She leaned against the doorframe, one hand sliding up the doorjamb and straight into a splinter. “Ow!” she said, jerking her hand away.

  “Let me take a look.” He backed her up until they were all the way in the living room, then shut the door behind him. He took her hand and ran his rough fingers over the large and obvious splinter. “Do you have some tweezers?” he asked.

  A little blood oozed from the place where the splinter was lodged. “Mamm does in the top drawer of the little table over there.”

  He got the tweezers, cradled her hand in his large palm, and paused. “This might sting a bit.”

  “It’s okay—ow!”

  Judah yanked out the splinter, then dropped her hand. “You should wash that and put some peroxide on it. Next time, don’t slide yer hand across wood like that. Even if it’s stained it could still end up splintery over time.”

  She nodded, a little awestruck at his concern and the gentle attention her hand received.

  “Is Sarah around?” he’d asked, not skipping a beat. As if she’d heard him talking about her, Sarah appeared, and Esther was immediately forgotten.

  Esther shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. For as long as she could remember, and despite being the older sister, Esther had always been in Sarah’s shadow, and always would be. Despite that, Esther would never change herself. Trying to be someone else—especially her sister—had been a monumental mistake. She’d never tried to mimic Sarah again.