by Sarah Price
She didn’t say anything but she felt uncomfortable, alright. Shopping for things? Things for her? She wondered what he had purchased and why. She had plenty of things. And, while she knew that she wasn’t going to be an Amish woman and would have to conform a little to the non-Amish ways, she certainly hoped that he didn’t expect it to happen overnight. But she would never say that to him. His eyes glowed and he was so joyous and happy. How could she begrudge him such happiness?
“Danke,” she said as she took the steaming mug of coffee.
Was this what it was like to be Englische, she wondered. Did men and women share so much? In many ways, she supposed that she could learn to like it. He was spoiling her with fresh coffee and so many gifts. It would take some getting used to, she knew that for a fact. But she also saw that he was truly pleased to do these things for her and that was something that she enjoyed seeing…his pleasure.
It was warm already when they went outside. It was going to be a hot week. The barn was full of flies and the cows were complaining from full udders. Neither Jake nor Sylvia needed to tell the other what to do. He did point to where the buckets were stacked next to the stools. But, they both proceeded to work, side by side, washing the cows’ udders with clean, soapy water before milking their small herd of cows. The sound of the steady stream of milk against the metal buckets filled the room. The cows mooed their appreciation at the relief. Occasionally, Sylvia would stop to swat at a fly or to push a stray hair from her face. But, otherwise, it was business as usual.
She loved milking the cows, listening to that tinny sound and the cows chewing whatever cud was left from the previous night feeding. When the bucket was filled, she started to carry it to the storage container but Jake jumped up and took the heavy bucket for her. So, she took his place with the cow and finished tugging at her udders.
It didn’t take as long to milk the twelve cows as it took to milk at her father’s. When they finished, it was six-thirty. Jake told her to go along inside and start preparing breakfast while he fed the cows their breakfast. They could muck the manure later when the cows were done feeding and ready for morning pasture time. She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked around the cows and retreated out the door toward the house.
So much had happened in the past week. She could scarce believe it as she walked into the kitchen. Only this time, she smiled to herself, it was her kitchen. True to his word, Jake had spoken with Jonas in private. Sylvia didn’t know when that meeting would take place as she didn’t see or hear from Jake until almost five days later. Those were the longest days of her life. After the evening meal, she would sit on Emanuel and Shana’s porch, her eyes searching the road in the hopes of seeing a truck pull along and slow down.
By the fourth day, she couldn’t eat or sleep. Her energy was sapped and she felt tears fighting their way to the surface. Where was Jake? What could possibly have happened? She wondered if he had changed her mind and she found herself, once again, fearful that she had made a mistake. Now that Shana and Emanuel knew, there could be no backing out for Sylvia.
But the next morning, there was a knock at the door during their breakfast. Emanuel looked up, wondering who it could possibly be at this early hour. But when he opened the door, it was Jake standing there, his hat in his hand and a nervous smile on his face. He greeted Emanuel with a warm handshake, “You must be Sylvia’s brother, Emanuel. Jake Edwards. Glad to finally meet you.” He looked past Emanuel and found Sylvia, sitting at the table, almost trembling from keeping her emotions in control. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with Sylvia,” he said.
Emanuel took a deep breath. “Was just headed out to the barn. You make yourself at home, Jake.”
Jake hesitated then shook his head. “No, it’s something that both you and your wife might want to hear, too.”
At this, Emanuel raised an eyebrow and caught Shana’s eyes over Jake’s shoulder. She was smiling to herself, probably thinking back to their own courtship days. “By all means, Jake. Come on in.”
When he entered the room, he greeted Shana with a polite nod and smile. As always, his presence seemed to fill the room. He was taller than all of them with broad shoulders and a charismatic personality. Shana could see that at once. But there was also something innocent and pure in his demeanor. Having grown up Englische, she had a different perspective to pull from than Emanuel and Sylvia. She was often distrustful of the Englischers. But not this one. She immediately liked him.
Jake headed to where Sylvia sat. He knelt before her and took her hands in his. He kissed them and stared up at her face. “I told you that I would talk to your father. And I did, Sylvia. I can’t say that he was happy about this but I can tell you that he didn’t seem very surprised. We spent some time together, sorting it out. And I can promise you that there are no hard feelings from your parents. I told them that we would join the Mennonite Church. I told them that I would never take you from your family. And I told them that I would do all that I could to be a good Christian husband for you, leading as plain and simple a life as I could possibly provide, being that I’m not Amish.”
Sylvia felt the tears winning the fight. “And I’m not shunned? He’s not too terribly disappointed?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far but I think Katie and Jonas had some good preparation from this,” Jake said, making light of the moment by winking at her. “And why would they shun you? You never took the baptism so there is nothing to shun.”
Shana cleared her throat. “What are the plans, Jake?”
“It’s up to Sylvia. Whenever she is ready, I will arrange for the minister.” He reached out to wipe away one of her tears. It glistened on his finger. “Under the circumstances, I suspect it would be alright if we married privately, no fanfare or fancy dinner. I don’t think our dear Sylvia would be up for something like that.”
And so it had been settled. The following Saturday, a minister came to Emanuel’s farm and, under the noon sun, Sylvia became Mrs. Jake Edwards with only her family as witnesses. Shana seemed the most moved during the ceremony, perhaps the only one that could truly understand the turmoil that Sylvia was going through…and the challenges that faced them both in the upcoming months. There was a light dinner before everyone parted in time to get home for evening chores.
By the time that Jake brought Sylvia back to his farm, it was almost four o’clock. He had taken her first to a nearby park so that they could walk, hand-in-hand, alone along the edge of a river. They sat under the shade of a large tree, dipping their legs in the cool water, Sylvia leaning against him as he stroked her arm. For a long time, neither spoke. They listened to the running water, the calming music helping to soothe them as they both tried to grasp the enormity of what had just happened. For Sylvia, she felt a conflict of emotions…unsure of what she had committed to while loving Jake with all of her heart. For Jake, he felt the weight of insuring that Sylvia was protected as much as possible and trying to keep her life as plain as he could.
Jake had done the evening milking while Sylvia wandered through the house, staring at what was now her new home. It felt familiar to her, which helped. Yet, it didn’t quite have that home feel to it. She noticed that it needed a good cleaning…the dirt and dust had accumulated since she had been there last. For a while, she stood by the window, staring outside at the barn as if willing Jake to emerge. But he didn’t. So she decided to venture outside and look at the vegetable garden they had planted together almost two months prior. The weeds had sprung up, choking some of the plants. She noticed that the tomatoes were too tall and needed to be thinned. She had a lot of work to do to catch up on her chores, she realized.
“There you are,” he had said as he walked up the hill toward their garden plot. His eyes roved over the rows of weeds, plants, and brambles. “Looks like we know what one of our first projects will be,” he teased.
She nodded. “Needs some tending, that’s for sure.”
He put his arm around her neck, resting it across
her shoulders. “There’s lot of things that will need tending to around here, Sylvia,” he had said. “But right now, I can only think of one thing…” He nuzzled at her neck. “You.”
If she wanted to protest, the thought quickly dissipated when she realized that not only were they married now, but they were standing on their own farm with no one else around to witness such a public display of affection. So she turned toward him and put her arms around his waist. Husband, she thought and one of those familiar waves coursed through her body. She wondered if all newlyweds felt this way and, immediately, she pushed the thought far away. Impossible, she had told herself. There was no way anyone could ever feel the love that she and Jake felt for one another.
Standing on the edge of the weedy garden patch, she had lost herself in his kiss. For the moment, she forgot everything except this exceptional man who stood before her, blessing her with his love. She didn’t protest when he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the house. He paused as he fumbled for the door and kicked it open with one foot. “Allow me to carry you inside, Mrs. Edwards,” he had said. But he didn’t stop in the kitchen. No, he headed for the stairs, setting her down gently so that he could guide her upstairs to the bedroom where they spent the rest of the evening.
Now, the morning after as she made her first breakfast for her husband, she remembered his love and smiled to herself. She had never known much about the behind-doors life of a married couple. It wasn’t as if anyone really talked about it beyond the basic facts that sexual relations were saved for marriage and resulted in children. She hadn’t known that there could be pleasure in the process…pleasure and emotion and an intimacy that made her want to curl up and never leave Jake’s side.
“Mmmm ummm!” he called out enthusiastically when he walked through the door. “Something smells delicious!” He walked over to where she stood by the stove and gave her a quick kiss before retreating to the sink to wash up. “Eggs, bacon! Why, Sylvia, you are spoiling me!”
After they had eaten and Sylvia cleared the plates, they sat outside on the front porch, drinking a cup of coffee and planning their day. It was Sunday and there wasn’t much they could do around the farm, being a day of rest. Off-Sundays were usually spent visiting with family and friends and, for the unmarried folk, attending singings. Jake leaned against one of the porch posts, one leg stretched out along the porch while the other dangled, almost touching the ground. “Much prefer just spending the day with my wife,” he said casually. “Perhaps we could ride into town?”
Sylvia bit her lip. She didn’t want to ride in the truck. It was Sunday. But how to tell him without sounding ungrateful or demanding? “Or a nice walk while it’s still not too hot?”
“Ah,” he said. He caught the gentle pleading of her tone and realized his mistake. Graciously, he conceded. “Walk it is! I can show you the property. I don’t think we have walked that yet, have we?”
She was grateful for his tact and understanding. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He reached his hand out for hers and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. “It’ll take time, I suppose…for both of us,” he acknowledged.
So they walked around the perimeter of the property, hand in hand. He told her stories about his grandfather, what little that he knew about him. He told her that he had always heard about the farm, knew that it was in the family but never dreamt of living on it until after the accident. It had taken him over five years to finally do it.
“All I knew was that my life was going too fast and I wasn’t appreciating it,” he said in a matter of fact tone. “I needed a change…to find myself.”
“And you have, ja?” she asked.
He wrapped his arm around her as they walked and kissed the top of her head. “And much more. Ja!” he teased.
He had big plans for the farm. He wanted to breed the horses but also to farm the land. Sylvia listened to him talk about planting winter wheat in October. He also planned to plant corn next spring. He had learned a lot from Steve. Even using the mules had been an exciting part of the experience. He had found that he had liked using them to harvest the corn. Sylvia was relieved to hear that he would not be using gas-powered equipment. While she knew that she, too, would have to make concessions, she didn’t want to lose the essence of her spirit in the process.
After they shared a quiet lunch together, Jake retreated to the barn for a little while, giving Sylvia some time alone to unpack her hope chest and make the house her own. For years, she had been working on linens and tablecloths and even a special quilt for her wedding bed. She smiled as she unpacked each item and remembered the hours she had spent making them. After she covered the kitchen table with the pretty white tablecloth that was embroidered along the edges, she escaped outside to cut some fresh flowers to place in the center of the table.
Back upstairs, she covered their bed with the pale blue and white quilt that she had stitched two winters ago by the kerosene heater in her parents’ kitchen. By the time she was done, she began to feel as though she could eventually think of the small farmhouse as her home.
“Ah, pretty as a picture,” he said as he leaned against the bedroom doorframe, his arms crossed across his chest.
She had just finished making the bed, the quilt spread out and wrinkle free. She stood up and smiled at him shyly, “Do you like it?”
“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I referring to you.” He laughed when the color rose to her cheeks. He liked to tease her and make her blush. Her innocence enchanted him. “Perhaps now would be a good time to look through some of those packages in the back bedroom,” he suggested, reaching his hand out for her to hold.
For the next hour, he sat in a ladder-back chair watching as she opened up the packages. There were more dresses and button-up sweaters as well as some pretty straw hats. There was even a plain white nightgown in the softest fabric she had ever touched. In another box, there was a fancy new hairbrush, comb, and mirror set. She had never seen so many new things, each one taking her further away from her upbringing and making her realize that her future was going to be quite different. When the last box was opened, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at everything that he had bought for her.
“I don’t know what to say,” was all she could muster.
He watched her thoughtfully, not responding right away. She ran her hand over the nightgown. The neckline was cut in a V and there was a long slit up the side. It was beautiful, she couldn’t help but admit that. However, she didn’t need or want beautiful things. And the dresses. If the work dresses he had purchased for her were pretty, these other dresses were much fancier. Where would she wear them?
“These must have cost so much money,” she finally said. “I…I don’t need so many things, Jake.”
He nodded in agreement. “You’re right. You don’t.”
She looked up at him, confused. “Then why?”
Nonchalantly, he shrugged his shoulders. “Why not?” He stood up and walked toward her, reaching for the pretty straw hat that was resting inside a box next to her. Gently, he placed it on her head. “A husband can spoil his wife, ja?” He tilted her chin so that she was forced to look at him. “It’s just one of the ways that I can show you how much I love you.” He leaned down and kissed her. “And, you must admit that it would raise a lot of eyebrows when we go places together if you dress Amish but you are traveling with an Englischer man.”
There was truth to that statement. She nodded her head and looked around at the many different things that he had purchased for her. She couldn’t even remember her father ever buying anything for her mother as a surprise. It just wasn’t something that Amish did. But she had married out of the church. There were many compromises that she would undoubtedly have to make in the future. This was just one of them.
“Danke, Jake,” she said. “This was most kind and thoughtful.”
He laughed and gave her shoulder a playful squeeze. “Maybe. Or maybe it was selfish…Perhaps
I just don’t want to be chasing tourists away from you for the rest of our lives.”
That afternoon, she helped him with the barn chores. Together, they cleaned the manure, fed the horses, and milked the cows. She liked working alongside Jake. Unlike her father’s farm, Jake talked to the cows, hummed a song, or even made little jokes to her. Chores were jovial and fun instead of silent and tedious. He even helped her carry the heavy milk buckets and seemed to always be smiling at her, watching her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She pretended not to notice but her heart fluttered in her chest knowing that his eyes were upon her. His adoration humbled Sylvia. She hoped that she was worthy of such devotion and love.
Before she knew it, it was time to clean up and start supper. She looked up at Jake and he nodded toward the house. “I’ll be in after I turn out the cows,” he said.
She quickly hurried to the house, trying to think about supper. She hadn’t planned anything. She wasn’t used to being in charge of the kitchen for all three meals. That was something she’d have to figure out quickly in order to get into a routine. What on earth was she going to prepare for this man?