Hills of Wheat: The Amish of Lancaster

by Sarah Price

  “No Mamm,” she said. “But danke.”

  “I wonder if you are being touched by allergies,” her mother said.

  Sylvia shook her head. “Just a headache, t’is all.”

  “Mayhaps too much time at that widower’s place,” her mother said. “Tuckering you out some.”

  Just as quickly as her mother said it, Sylvia felt the need to defend herself and Jake. “Oh no, Mamm,” she gushed. “It’s not that at all.”

  Her own words shocked her. Why had she jumped to his defense? Why had she automatically protected him? Why hadn’t she taken advantage of the opportunity to tell her mamm the truth? And Sylvia knew, at that moment, that her spiritual existence was on the line. She was too far into the situation to escape and the realization alarmed her. Nothing good can come out of this, she scolded herself, wishing desperately that she had used her mamm’s opening to stop working at Jake’s.

  Her mother gave her a sideways glance but said no more. Instead, she busied herself with preparing the evening meal. It wasn’t as heavy as the noon meal but she knew that the men would be hungry after working outside all day. “Well then, you might as well go help your daed in the barn.”

  Sylvia was thankful to be released from inside chores. Working outside was exactly what she needed. It would give her the time to think, to sort through the mass of confusion that was clouding her mind. She didn’t wait for instruction from her father before she began picking through the cow manure, cleaning up any droppings. The cows would come in for the evening milking just before supper. She made certain their troughs were filled with water and fresh hay was spread. The smell of the hay tickled her nose and twice she sneezed. When she was finished in the main barn, she went to the horse shed to muck their stalls and fill their water. Steve and Daniel would feed the horses grain and hay later, usually after supper.

  The noise in the driveway startled her. She lifted her head. A car. It wasn’t often that cars pulled into their driveway. Usually it was a lost tourist, seeking directions or a rare glimpse of a real Amish farm. She listened and heard only one door open and shut. But she couldn’t see anything from where she stood. With a shrug of her shoulders, she went back to work. Her father or mother would take care of the stranger. She had enough on her mind to worry about without taking on a new issue. Besides, she didn’t like strangers. They usually meant trouble.

  A few minutes later, she heard her father call out for Steve. Low voices were talking and the car engine started once more. Within minutes, the car slowly pulled out of the driveway and the noise faded away. Sylvia exhaled loudly. It always made her feel uncomfortable to have strangers at the farm. They invaded her private life, her sanctuary. If only the Amish could surround themselves with their own people, she thought. But she knew that the tourists helped the Amish in many ways. They bought Amish food, furniture, horses, carriages, and quilts. It was a necessary evil, her father would say.

  Later, when she helped with the milking, Sylvia noticed that Steve was missing. She wondered why he wasn’t helping but, rather than ask her daed, she kept her head bent down as she worked through the line of cows, alongside her younger brothers. It was a systematized routine. No need for words or talking. Just dealing with the cows and getting the job done.

  Sylvia liked milking the cows because it was quiet. She felt closer to God when she was working in the barnyard or fields. The cows didn’t ask questions or judge. But, when they looked at her with their big brown eyes, she knew that she was appreciated, even if only because she fed them or relieved their swelling udders. It was a beautiful relationship, one that was pure and good. For a moment, she forgot about her encounter with Jake Edwards and found happiness in the moment.

  The lapse was only momentary, however. She finished the chores and went inside to help her mother with setting the table for the men. As she laid the last plate down, she heard them stomping into the porch. The men always stomped their feet, kicking the mud off before they walked into the house. She recognized the stomping but not the voices. It was only when the door opened and her father walked in that she heard the too familiar voice of Jake Edwards.

  “I can’t thank you enough for lending Steve to help me,” she heard him say to her father. “I’d never have gotten all that feed and hay stacked.”

  Sylvia turned around, the color draining from her face. She could barely believe that he was standing in front of her in her parents’ kitchen. He was much taller than her brothers and father. He filled the room with his presence. For a second, she had to lean against the counter to steady herself, her knees feeling weak. No one seemed to notice. In fact, they acted as if it was the most natural thing, to have an Englischer in their home. In all of her years, she had never seen a non-Amish person in their home. The surreal feeling returned and she had a hard time understanding how this was happening.

  “That’s what neighbors are for, ja?” Jonas clapped him good-naturedly on the back. “Katie, meet Jake Edwards. He’s dropping Steve off.”

  “Good evening, Mrs. Lapp,” he said.

  Sylvia glanced at her mother. Something was wrong in Katie’s expression. Sylvia saw her mother staring at Jake Edwards, her mother’s eyes seeing more than she wanted. There was a dark shadow that fell across Katie’s face, if only for a moment. Sylvia had only seen that look one time before when Emanuel was courting Shana. Sylvia caught her breath and waited, knowing that her mother was putting together the pieces. The look on her face was clear enough to Sylvia. But, just as quickly as the look was there, it vanished and Katie was back to herself.

  “Mr. Edwards, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “We are getting ready for the evening meal.” Her mother hesitated but knew that she had no choice when she asked, “Perhaps you would care to join us, Mr. Edwards?”

  “Call me Jake, please,” he insisted. “We’re neighbors after all.” His eyes flickered to Sylvia. She hadn’t moved from where she stood, frozen in place as she tried to understand what was happening. “It sure is lonely dining by yourself every night. That would be quite appreciated.”

  Sylvia watched as her father gestured toward the table and Jake sat down to the right of her father. The boys found their spots while Katie began putting the pots and plates of food on the table. Baked chicken and beans and fresh, warm bread covered the table. Slowly, Sylvia moved toward the table, realizing that the only open chair was next to Jake. She saw him start to stand as she approached. He held her chair for her and, when her cheeks reddened, her brothers chuckled. She was glad that her mother hadn’t seen that one small gesture and her reaction.

  After the silent prayer over the meal, Steve and Jonas began talking with Jake about the horses that were to arrive the following morning. They asked questions about the horses, surprised to learn that Jake had raised horses in Connecticut prior to moving to Lancaster. Sylvia sat stiffly beside Jake, barely touching her food. No one seemed to notice her lack of an appetite since the focus of the conversation centered on their guest.

  “That’s a great property you have there, Jake,” Steve commented to Sylvia’s surprise. Steve was usually shy around strangers. They all were shy among Englischers. It was part of their defense mechanism against the outside world. Less said, better protection from intrusions. Clearly, the two men had connected during their time together. “Some of the outbuildings need work but it’s in decent shape considering. I didn’t even know it was for sale! I’d have bought it myself.”

  Jonas chuckled. “Thinking about buying your own farm now, ja?” He laughed as Steve flushed, realizing that he had made an admission about his upcoming desire to wed his girlfriend. It wasn’t really news to the family; the autumn announcement was anticipated. He was at the right age and had taken his baptism just recently. Marriage was the obvious next step.

  “You wouldn’t have known because it never was for sale,” Jake said flatly. The unspoken question lingered around the table. He looked up from his plate, surprised to see all eyes upon him. All
eyes except Sylvia’s. He cleared his throat as he continued. “It’s been in the family for several generations, you see. It was my grandfather’s farm, passed down to me from my mother.”

  Sylvia looked at him for the first time since sitting down at the table. “But surely it was an Amish farm at one time!”

  He looked at her and met her eyes, his own sparkling once again as he laughed at her sudden contribution to the conversation. “Yes it was Amish, if you can call a farm such a thing. Usually people are Amish but you’re quite observant,” he teased. The color rose to her cheeks and he smiled at her before turning his attention back to Jonas. “My grandfather’s family was Amish,” he admitted. “Somewhere along the way, my grandfather left the faith…or merely never joined the church. But he was the only son and inherited the farm when his father died.” His voice trailed off as though he was thinking of something else. “My grandfather tried his hand at farming, tried to modernize the place. But it was too much for him. He took the family to Connecticut but refused to sell the property.“

  Jonas took advantage of Jake’s pause. “I never knew that,” he said. “Been here for thirty years and never knew about that place.”

  “It’s a flag lot,” Jake explained. “The bulk of the property is between two farms with only the driveway entrance on the main road. Easy to miss since you can’t see it from the road and it is rather overgrown along the property line.”

  “Well, I’m sure that it is nice to have new life in such an old place,” Jonas finally said.

  Steve agreed. “That land’s been fallow for years. Could sure get some rich crops out of it.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Jake said, the hint of teasing in his voice with his head inclined toward Sylvia. She hoped that no one else noticed. “In fact, I was thinking about some corn. Heard from a reliable source that it would be a good first-time crop for a gentleman farmer like myself.” He looked at Steve, a twinkle in his eyes as he added, “It’s a shame that I couldn’t learn from someone willing to put in the labor and share in the profit.”

  Jonas scratched at his beard and leaned his elbow on the table. “You looking for some help, then? Mayhaps Steve might be interested.” He glanced at his son. “I understand that he might be having some need for some extra money come October,” he said, the hint of a smile on his face as he insinuated again about Steve’s intention to marry in the fall.

  The rest of the table laughed, aware of Steve’s discomfort. But it was all in good fun, no harm was meant. Sylvia, however, sank in her chair. Now she’d never be able to tell her parents that she couldn’t go back to Jake’s farm. They’d ask questions and the answers would hurt more than herself. Now it would impact the entire family, especially Steve if he was going to plant corn in Jake’s field.

  Yet, part of her was glad that the decision had been made for her. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was relieved. Being around Jake was exciting and just a bit dangerous. Even now, sitting next to Jake, she felt her heart pounding and that familiar warmth spreading throughout her body. Every once in a while, she could feel his leg brush against hers. Accidental or on purpose, she wasn’t certain. It sent a chill down her spine and color to her cheeks.

  “You feeling poorly again, Sylvia?” her mother asked. The rest of the table turned their attention to her, which made her want to squirm in her seat. “You look flushed.” Katie looked at Jonas.

  “I’m fine, Mamm,” she replied softly. She could feel Jake’s eyes on her and she refused to look anywhere but at her plate, still full of food.

  “You’ve barely eaten and you were in bed most of the day,” Katie chided. “I think you must be coming down with something.”

  Jake cleared his throat. “You looked pale when you left my farm yesterday. I would have been happy to drive you home, Sylvia. It’s a long walk and as the weather gets warm, well…” He looked up at Jonas. “If your father wouldn’t object, of course.”

  She saw it coming and cringed. Her father leaned back in his seat, wiping his mouth with his napkin as he said, “That would be most kind, Jake. Would get her home quicker for helping her mother. If it’s not bother, of course.”

  Jake held up his hand. “Not at all. My pleasure.”

  And with that, the decision was made. There would be no further excuses from Sylvia. She felt a sense of dread inside of her chest as she watched her father push back from the table and stood up, waiting for the other men to follow. “Now, let’s go discuss the details on your corn proposition, Jake. I’m sure Steve will be anxious to make his plans to get started.” Jonas winked at the younger boys as he added, “Seeing that wedding season is just round the corner.”

  The room was quiet after the men left. Jake paused to thank Katie, mentioning again how nice it was to share a family meal. Sylvia noticed that her mother didn’t extend future invitations. Katie was uncomfortable with strangers in the house. She was more comfortable with her own family surrounding her. But she did notice that Katie watched as Jake gave Sylvia a warm smile and said good night as he left.

  Sylvia tried to avoid her mother’s eyes but, as she helped clear the table, she knew her mother was watching her. No questions were asked out loud but Sylvia knew that plenty were being thought about this tall, handsome stranger who had moved into their neighborhood and was quick to become an important part of the family’s life.

  Chapter Ten

  The following day, she forced herself to walk across the fields of growing corn and through the hill of wheat toward Jake’s farm. She hadn’t slept well the night before and had awoken at five to help her father and brothers with the milking. By eight o’clock, she had already put in a full morning. But her mind was on the events of the past 48 hours.

  She wished her older sisters were still living at the farm, although she probably wouldn’t have confided in them. It didn’t matter, she thought to herself. Susie and Ana were both married now with their own families to concern themselves. And Sarah was much older. Sylvia had never been very close with her. Besides, none of them would understand Sylvia’s attraction to the Englischer anymore than Sylvia understood it.

  When she arrived at the farm, she quickly threw herself into the task at hand. She felt as thought she was getting into a routine. She started upstairs, making Jake’s bed and straightening up his room. There wasn’t a lot to straighten up…a pair of pants tossed over the back of a chair, a shirt dangling from the foot of the bed.

  She took the time to fold the shirt and lay it in a drawer, smoothing out the wrinkles. She glanced at that photo as she had every day that she had worked at Jake’s house. The questions continued to flood her mind but never crossed her lips. Before she left the room, she turned and glanced back to make certain that everything was in order. Her eyes lingered on the bed, just long enough for a blush to cover her cheeks. Quickly, she retreated back downstairs.

  She spent more time than usual cleaning the kitchen and sitting room. She made certain to get on her hands and knees to wash the baseboards. She even rid the ceiling corners of any lingering cobwebs. Every farm had spiders and with spiders came cobwebs. But Sylvia knew that cobwebs belonged in the barn, not the house. Finally, she washed the windows until they sparkled and even took the musty curtains outside to shake off the years of dust.

  Now that she knew that Jake’s family had lived in the farmhouse, she felt a new sense of purpose. The older items in the house were clearly antiques from his great-grandparents. The newer items were obviously more recent acquisitions. A blending of the past with the future. There was a story here in this old house, she thought to herself, and she was increasingly aware of her curiosity to learn more.

  There was some activity in the barnyard. Sylvia hurried to the kitchen window and peered outside. Two large horse trailers were pulling down the long driveway. For the first time that day, she saw Jake outside by the barn. It dawned on her that he had avoided the house all day and she wondered why. Was he giving her space or was he merely busy?

&n
bsp; Despite her determination to focus on work instead of the fluttering in her heart, she felt a wave of disappointment at the realization that he would be occupied for the rest of the day with the horses. It’s better that way, she told herself. She would prepare his meal, leave it covered in the oven, and retreat back home without any interaction with Jake Edwards. Yes, indeed, it was much safer to just leave, she admitted to herself. There was no harm in putting distance between them after that unsettling kiss from earlier in the week.

  So it surprised her when she heard him enter the kitchen, an eagerness in his footsteps. She was just getting ready to dry the dishes from cooking when he walked up to her, his face shining with excitement.

  “Sylvia! You must come to see the horses!” He took the dishtowel from her hand and laid it on the counter. Instead of releasing her hand, he held it, just long enough to lead her out of the kitchen. “I just got them settled in. I’m surprised you didn’t come out when they arrived.”

  She wasn’t certain how to respond. It had never dawned on her to go out to the barn when the trailers pulled in. She was his housekeeper, after all. What happened in the barn didn’t necessarily concern her. “I didn’t realize that I should,” she finally said, withdrawing her hand from his. It made her feel weak, this attention that he gave to her. Truth was that she had been avoiding him, more for self-preservation rather than to distance herself.