Hills of Wheat: The Amish of Lancaster

by Sarah Price

  He chuckled under his breath. “Clever.”

  She continued. “But I do know one thing and that is we both come from such different worlds.”

  “We know that they have collided, Sylvia.”

  “And what does that mean? It either means something or nothing. And if it’s something, one of us has to make a big decision, ja?”

  Hesitating, she realized the impact of her own words. If it was nothing, her world was ruined. Word would certainly begin circulating that Sylvia had spent too much time with an older Englische man, and a widower at that, during her final years of her rumspringa. If it meant something, she would have to leave the Amish or Jake would have to join. The ramifications of this relationship were indeed monumental. No, she thought. Life altering.

  “Well,” he said, breaking the silence. “I suppose we both have a lot to think about then, yes?” He brushed his thumb across her cheek and smiled. “Now, I suspect you should be going…as should I. We have a long day tomorrow and I don’t want you too exhausted.” He walked her back to the mailbox and bid her goodnight with a soft kiss. “Until tomorrow, dear Sylvia.”

  He watched her walk down the dark driveway and waited until he thought that he heard the house door shut before beginning the walk back to his own house. He preferred to walk, using the time to sort his thoughts and clear his head. In the meantime, she hurried upstairs and slipped into her bedroom. She lay in bed, pretending that she was walking next to him until she was certain he had reached the farm and was tucked into his own bed. Only then did she try to get some sleep. It was easier to do, knowing that Jake would be back in the morning to spend the day helping with the wheat.

  By the end of the week, there were more rows of wheat shocks standing than Sylvia cared to count. They stood majestically beneath the sun, waiting to dry out in time for the thrashing. Jake had showed up every day, offering his help, which was gladly accepted by Jonas.

  On the other hand, Sylvia noticed a severe change in her mother’s demeanor. Her mamm was less lively and talkative than she normally would be during the dinner hour. With her lips pressed tightly together, she would greet Jake politely but that was the end of her interactions. Jake didn’t seem to notice, nor did Sylvia’s brothers. Instead, Jake would share stories and make her brothers laugh. Even Jonas seemed to enjoy his company. Sylvia would try to avoid laughing at his stories but, even she couldn’t keep herself from smiling. Yet, the more everyone seemed to enjoy Jake’s presence, the more withdrawn and distracted Katie became.

  The following morning, they began thrashing the wheat. No one was surprised to see Jake show up in the morning, walking across the field to join the work party. He found his place next to Sylvia and helped her carrying the bundled wheat toward the thrashing machine. It wasn’t hard work but it was hot with the sun overhead.

  The dry wheat felt splintery in their hands. Once, Sylvia cut her hand and it started to bleed. Jake hurried to her side and leaned down, taking her hand in his. The way that he handled her was gentle and caring. He dabbed at the blood with the edge of his shirt until the cut stopped bleeding.

  “You should bandage that,” he said, unaware that Sylvia’s father was watching the scene.

  “It’s fine, Jake.” She pulled her hand from his, too aware that her father had seen Jake take her hand in his, even if only out of concern. “Really.”

  “It’ll get infected,” he replied, concerned. “And, trust me, that hurts.”

  That day, during the dinner hour, it was Jonas as well as Katie who seemed to quietly observe the interactions at the table. They watched as Jake told funny stories and laughed with Steve and Daniel. Occasionally, he would turn to Sylvia, asking her a question or trying to include her in the stories. She resisted, too aware that they were being watched. She tried to keep her expression neutral and her eyes downcast. Yet the more comfortable her brothers were with Jake, the more stress she felt. It was unlike either of them to share such camaraderie with a non-Amish man.

  Jonas stood up to leave the kitchen table for the afternoon work. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Right gut food to give strength for finishing the work, ja?” He laughed good-naturedly but his eyes did not crinkle and sparkle like they normally did. “Mayhaps you could help your mother this afternoon, Sylvia. I think we have enough hands in the field and she could use a spare set inside.”

  Sylvia bit her lip but held back from asking questions about this seemingly rash decision. “Yes, Daed,” she said softly.

  It wasn’t hard to see that she wasn’t the only one disappointed. Jake became tense as he sat in the chair next to her. But, like Sylvia, he kept his silence. Daniel and Steve stood up to join Jonas as he began to walk out of the house. For a moment, Jake didn’t move. She wanted to tell him to go with them but she knew her mother would hear. It was clear that her parents didn’t need more to feed their suspicions. So, she stood up and began clearing the dirty dishes.

  Reluctantly, Jake took that as his cue. As he stood to leave, he made certain to approach Katie. “Thank you again, ma’am,” he said politely. “Working your fields is sure worth it just to have some fellowship.” Katie smiled but didn’t reply.

  After the men left and Sylvia was finished clearing the table, she stood by her mother at the sink. Katie washed while Sylvia dried the dishes. There was a pit in Sylvia’s stomach. How she longed to be outside, working next to Jake. The words from the other night kept racing through her head. Was this something or nothing? To her, she knew that it was something. So it was up to Jake to decide now what it was to him. And then, presuming that he, too, felt that it was something, they both had to make a decision. It was a decision that meant significant change for both of them.

  “I’ll only be saying this once,” Katie said, interrupting her daughter’s thoughts. “Watch carefully where you walk, daughter. There are many roads that do not allow for turning around.”

  Sylvia tried to steady her breathing. She felt resentment swell inside of her chest but pushed it away. Her mother was only doing what she felt was best to protect her child, to protect her family, and to protect her church. But Sylvia couldn’t help feeling resentment toward the intrusion in her life. After all, she reminded herself, she wasn’t a baptized member of the church and, therefore, could make her own decisions. That was the point of rumspringa…to experience some of the world in order to make decisions about joining the church. In her mind, she had the right to travel down any road. If there was no U-turn allowed, that was a consequence that she was willing to accept.

  There were no more words between them while they finished the afternoon chores.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was the next morning when her father made the big announcement as Sylvia was clearing the breakfast dishes. “I’ll be hitching up the buggy now,” he started. “Sylvia, you should pack your things for visiting a spell with Emanuel and Shana.”

  Sylvia stood where she was, the dirty plates in her hands, hovering over the sink. She could hardly believe her ears. She turned around and saw him staring at her, his gaze steady and hard. She looked at her mother but Katie was staring at her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. Both Steve, Daniel, and her two younger brothers seemed just as surprised. They looked back and forth from their father and mother to Sylvia. It was unspoken but obvious. Something had happened for Sylvia to be sent away so quickly and without any discussion. Sylvia suspected that they knew but she knew the suspicion alone didn’t prompt such a hasty action on the part of her parents.

  Her youngest brother, never one to be too shy, looked at his father. “What did Sylvia do?”

  “Samuel,” his mother reprimanded.

  “Must’ve been right awful to be sent away,” he mumbled.

  “Samuel!”

  Sylvia felt the color flood to her cheeks. She felt humiliated and sinful, as though she has truly done something wrong. However, without questioning her father, Sylvia hurried upstairs to her room, reluctantly packing a satchel. But her h
ead began to pound, confused at what was happening. This was unlike her parents, she knew that. Nothing was done last minute or without some discussion. In her heart, she knew this had to do with Jake Edwards. They had sensed his feelings toward her and hers toward him. Her mamm had warned her clearly enough but her daed must have decided it was not enough. So, her parents were separating Jake and Sylvia, giving them distance in the hope that the flame would flicker and die. Sylvia fought back tears, knowing that she had no way of telling Jake where she was going or how to find her. And, if her instincts were correct, her parents would instruct Steve and Daniel to not disclose that information.

  The ride to Emanuel’s farm seemed to take hours. She stared idly out the buggy window, her mind racing with thoughts. She knew that he would be looking for her after the singing on Sunday. What would he think when she wasn’t there? Would he think she didn’t care? No, she scolded herself. He knew better than that. How long was she supposed to stay with Emanuel and Shana? Weeks? No, she told herself. Likely it would be months. Shana wasn’t due for a while yet. The bulk of the help would be needed after the baby came. How would she survive that long without Jake?

  When Shana opened the door, she seemed surprised to see her younger sister-in-law standing before her. Emanuel, on the other hand, greeted her as if he was expecting her. Shana didn’t question her husband but gave him a curious look before she welcomed Sylvia with a warm hug. “It’s always a pleasure to have you,” she said. “The children will be quite pleased and I can always use the extra pair of hands.” She wasn’t due for another six weeks but her two other children, Noah and Hannah, could certainly wear her out.

  No one needed to tell Sylvia which room was hers. She always stayed in the upstairs bedroom that was in the back. It was small but closest to the children’s room. The children shared a room for the time being. It was easier for Shana plus they were young enough where it didn’t bother them. After the new baby was weaned, there was bound to be a rearrangement of sleeping quarters.

  Sylvia stared at the small room for a moment. A simple bed was pushed against the outer wall and there was one window in the rear with a small, narrow dresser underneath it. With a sigh, she unpacked her satchel, hanging up her two dresses on the pegs that stuck out of the wall. She placed her undergarments and stockings into the drawers. She didn’t wear stockings during the warmer months of spring and summer but she wasn’t certain how long she would be staying.

  She spent her days helping Shana with the housework in the morning and Emanuel in the fields after dinner. She appreciated their kindness during this time but no one spoke about the real reason she was there. Emanuel seemed to look at her with sympathy in his eyes but he didn’t broach the subject. That wasn’t his way. Besides, Sylvia knew that he had fought his own battles when he had decided to court Shana, something that he did despite his parents’ very strong lack of approval.

  Sylvia could remember how somber her parents had been when he had announced his decision to marry her. For Katie and Jonas, it was as if the decision was a sign of their own parental failings. But, they had eventually accepted Emanuel’s decision and embraced Shana, supporting their son’s marriage to the Englischer woman. Of course, when Emanuel and Shana both decided to take the kneeling vow and had joined the Amish community, a weight was lifted off of both of her parents’ shoulders.

  Shana tried to draw her out one evening as they sat in the reading room. Shana was sewing some clothes for the children while Sylvia mended some linens. “Something weighing heavy on your mind, Sylvia?”

  “No more than usual,” Sylvia said casually.

  “You know that you can talk to me,” Shana said slowly. “You had wanted to talk a while back after church, ja?”

  Sylvia shook her head, “I can’t…”

  “It’s the widower, isn’t it?” Shana said.

  Sylvia raised her eyes and looked at her sister-in-law. There were tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “Was this how it was with you and Emanuel? Is this how you felt?”

  Shana took a deep breath, hesitating before she responded. She wanted to say the right thing but she wasn’t certain what that was. “Well…I’m not sure what you are feeling but I know that I kept thinking about him, wondering what he was doing, feeling lost when he wasn’t around.”

  Sylvia nodded, swallowing back the tears. “Yes, yes that’s it. I feel lost and so very alone.”

  Shana sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Sylvia. You had asked me if it was hard for me to leave my world for Emanuel. The life is very different, you see. As much as I try, it can still be hard.” She watched Sylvia’s reaction to her words. “But we can’t choose who we love, you know. Sometimes it just happens.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about him,” Sylvia whispered.

  Shana smiled. “Yes, I can see that. Sometimes when you are apart, that makes it worse.”

  It was later that afternoon when Emanuel asked Sylvia if she wanted to ride to the market with him. Shana had a list of things that they needed to buy from the store. She agreed, knowing that it would do her some good to keep busy. The more she moved, the quicker time passed. Distractions helped her mind focus on other things and she welcomed them. So, when she saw Emanuel getting the buggy ready for the ride to the market, she hurried outside to help him with the horse’s harness.

  The market was a good distance from Emanuel’s farm. It was one that she hadn’t visited before. She wandered through the aisles, looking at the rows and rows of packaged goods. Emanuel pushed the cart and loaded it with flour, sugar, and other daily supplies. In one aisle, an Englische woman and her daughter stared at Emanuel and Sylvia. Emanuel nodded politely as he passed them and Sylvia shrank next to him, trying to disappear from their stares. She never could understand why Englischers found Amish so fascinating. After all, she reasoned, we are people, too.

  She began to wonder about the Englischer way of life. What was so different about it, she thought. Electricity, cars, fancy clothes. But underneath the layers of store bought things and fancy surroundings, they loved and lived just like the Amish. Was being worldly so sinful after all? True, there were distractions from worshipping God but wasn’t that the purpose of the church? To help the lost find their way?

  “Ready?” Emanuel asked.

  She nodded and helped him carry the boxes of groceries to the buggy. As he drove the horse and buggy back toward the farm, Sylvia sat looking out the side window. The acres and acres of green pastures and growing crops flowed like waves along the road. Cars raced by the buggy, some slowing down to look at the plain box-like buggy as the horse pulled it down the road. Whenever they passed another buggy going in the other direction, Emanuel would nod or wave if he thought he knew the driver. Sylvia leaned her head against the buggy door and shut her eyes. The rhythm of the buggy lulled her into a state of relaxation that she hadn’t felt in a while. No, she thought, being worldly wasn’t a sin but she wouldn’t change her Amish upbringing for anything. Like Jake had said, there was a peace about her and she didn’t want to lose that feeling.

  The following Sunday was a church Sunday at a neighbor’s farm. It was a long three hours and Sylvia found herself fighting the urge to fidget. Her mind wandered far away from what the bishop was preaching. During one song, Shana had to nudge her to stand. She flushed and tried to feign interest in the songs that flowed from the community of worshippers. The only saving grace was that Sylvia was able to help Shana with the children during the service. Noah fussed a little and, at one point, Sylvia carried him outside and walked around the farm, showing him the baby cows and fuzzy yellow chicks. He chased the chicks, trying to catch one but to no avail. She laughed at his attempts, glad for the distraction.

  During the fellowship hour after the service, Sylvia helped the women serving the men and then served the women. When it was her turn to eat, she slipped away. Her appetite was gone and she felt that too familiar choking feeling in her chest again. She wandered behind the barn and disappear
ed into the mule shed where it was quiet and no one would look for her there. She needed to think and to get herself pulled together.

  “I thought I saw you slip in here,” he said.

  She spun around at the sound of his voice. “Jake!” She had to remind herself to act proper, despite wanting to run into his arms and weep against his shoulder. She looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was nearby. “What are you doing here?”

  Jake walked into the mule shed and leaned against the railing. “I ran into your brother. I asked him where you were.” He reached out and pulled the ear of the nearest mule. “He hesitated, didn’t want to tell me.” He looked at her. There was a sadness in his eyes. “I suspect they all know, yes? Steve finally relented and told me where you had been hidden. I drove out today and looked for a Sunday gathering. Figured I might find you nearby and, while I was walking by, I saw you wander this way.”

  “Steve told you?” She was surprised. If her father had ordered them to silence, she couldn’t imagine how or why her brother would have gone against his wishes.