Following Your Heart

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Teresa nodded. “That would be the best thing for everyone concerned. And for Samuel. He would have a father then.”

  “Well, I have to get to my plowing,” Menno said. “Deacon Ray already has his disk out in his field.”

  “Come!” Susan said, pulling on Teresa’s arm. Outside Susan turned toward her. “Teresa, you don’t have to marry Yost! So please don’t be stubborn about it.”

  “I’m not being stubborn, Susan. I’m being practical.”

  “Teresa, please,” Susan begged. “You know you have feelings for James.”

  “So tell me what kind of boy is James?” Teresa asked.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do,” Teresa said. “You may think I don’t know your people’s ways. But Susan, I’m not stupid. Why does James not have a girlfriend already? Can you tell me that?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Susan said. “He’s dated several Amish girls, but he doesn’t last long with any of them. I’ve never bothered to ask about the matter—or even think about it.”

  “I have,” Teresa said. “And he’s that kind of boy. He’s flighty like Samuel’s father was. He makes flutters in the air as he comes around—and flutters into a girl’s heart. He’s bold, even brash at times, like when he speaks up for me, even promising to take me home a few times from the hymn singings. But his promises don’t seem to go any farther than that, Susan. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yost hopes your cooking is good. That’s all he wants. So don’t do this to yourself,” Susan said. “There might actually be a chance for you with James now. Lay low until after your baptism and see what happens. James might have finally found a girl who is just right for him.”

  “Me?” Teresa laughed. “Me right for James? Ha! Nothing has changed, Susan. I am still an unwed Englisha woman with a baby. If I start getting out of my place, how do you think that will be taken by Deacon Ray and the other ministers?”

  “But Deacon Ray is agreeing that you can do what you wish about marriage.”

  “Only if the ministers concur. But even then I don’t dare, Susan. It would only mean trouble in the long run. Yost will be fine. I shouldn’t expect more.”

  Susan sighed. “You sure try hard to think like an Amish woman, don’t you? I thought you were Englisha at heart.”

  “Maybe I’m afraid I still am,” Teresa said. “But I’m not changing anything with Yost, other than maybe the wedding date. That was very sweet of your dad. Do you think he really will give me a wedding like I’m one of his daughters?”

  “If Daett said he will do it, then he will,” Susan said. “But I’d be more concerned about who you’re having the wedding with than the wedding itself.”

  Mamm opened the front door. “Will you girls please stop prattling out in the yard and share your news with me! I want to know what the menfolk have going on.”

  “Teresa has been given a gut word,” Susan said when they approached the house. “Daett thinks the ministers are going to change their terms. Hopefully she can get baptized without marrying Yost Byler. Don’t you think she should promptly drop the old man?”

  “Susan!” Teresa said. “Don’t speak like that.”

  “That is gut news,” Mamm said. “But aren’t you making plans before you know for sure?”

  “Oh, it will happen,” Susan said.

  Teresa cleared her throat. “Thank you for your kindness to me. I don’t deserve any of it. Certainly not the wedding Menno is offering me.”

  “A wedding?” Mamm asked.

  “Daett promised to give Teresa a wedding just like he would for me,” Susan said.

  “I said it wasn’t necessary,” Teresa said at once. “The way we have it planned now is fine with me.”

  “You and Yost,” Mamm said, ignoring the interruption. “Daett promised to give you a wedding here? Why, I think that is a gut idea! I would have thought of it soon enough myself. Especially since now it won’t have to be on your baptismal day—if all goes well. But come, we have to get busy now, before the day is completely over. Are you done with the washing, Teresa?”

  “Yes,” Teresa replied. “I only need to bring in some of the clothes from the line. I’ll bring in the rest after dinner when they’re dry.”

  “Daett could use some help in the fields,” Susan said as Mamm turned to go inside. “I heard him complaining under his breath.”

  “Well, I don’t think we can get you married quickly enough to change that this spring,” Mamm teased.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Susan protested. “I’ll go help him this afternoon. Don’t we have time?”

  Mamm thought for a moment before answering. “Yah, but you have never plowed before. That’s what Daett is doing.”

  “I can start on the disking,” Susan suggested. “That’s what seems to be bothering him. Deacon Ray is already in the fields with his disk.”

  “And Deacon Ray still has a son at home,” Mamm said. “But don’t be too hard on your daett. He’s bothered more about getting the crops in the fields than anything Deacon Ray is doing. Late corn will mean a late harvest, and you know what that means. Hard times this winter.”

  “That’s why I’ll go help him after lunch,” Susan said. “I know how to disk.”

  “Can I help?” Teresa asked, her eyes shining. “I’ve never done anything like that in my life.”

  “That’s why you shouldn’t now,” Mamm said. “I don’t think Yost is needing a wife who can disk. Cooking will keep him happy enough.”

  “Please!” Teresa said, her eyes pleading. “I want to experience this for myself. I don’t care what Yost has to say about it. And for Samuel’s sake, I want to experience a little of what he will go through growing up. It will so comfort me in any troubled times ahead.”

  “I suppose you can,” Mamm allowed. “Just don’t fall off. I don’t want a mangled girl on my hands.”

  “Oh, I won’t!” Teresa squealed. “I’ll get the wash off the line right now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Susan held the reins to one of the Belgians as her daett threw on a harness, fastening the straps securely under the huge animal. Beside her, Teresa clutched the reins on the bridle of the other horse, her eyes still shining as the horse bent its neck down to get at stray pieces of hay on the barn floor.

  “Hang on to him!” Susan ordered with a laugh.

  “But he must be hungry,” Teresa said, struggling to keep from getting knocked over.

  “They’ve had plenty to eat,” Daett said. “They just can’t resist another bite of food. Given a chance they’d eat themselves to death.”

  “Is that true?” Teresa asked, pulling hard on the halter.

  Susan nodded.

  Teresa’s horse raised its head, blinking its eyes close to her face. Teresa laughed. “I do think he’s pleading with me.”

  “Don’t give in to his tugging on your heart,” Susan said. “Colic and founder may happen if a horse eats too much oats or rich food. It can kill them.”

  “Okay, that one’s ready,” Daett hollered out, slapping the horse on the rump. Susan led him forward.

  “Don’t worry,” Susan said as she went past Teresa. “Just hang on to the reins. These horses are well trained. He won’t go anywhere.”

  When she reached the barnyard, Susan waited beside the field disk until Teresa appeared, leading the second horse through the open door. She looked stressed, her arms stretched as she held the reins while the horse tugged, wanting to go faster.

  “It’s going to run away from me!” Teresa shrieked. “How do I get it to stop?”

  “Don’t be afraid, that’s the first thing,” Susan said, dropping her reins on the ground and running over to help. “I thought you wanted to do this on your own,” she teased.

  “I do!” Teresa gasped. “I just didn’t think I should get killed in the process.”

  Susan took the lines from Teresa and tugged hard, pulling back on the horse’s head. “Whoa! There,
now. You know it’s somebody new leading you, don’t you?”

  The horse shook its head and then rubbed Susan’s arm with its long nose.

  Moments later Menno came out with the last horse.

  Susan held the lines to two of the horses while they were hitched up to the disk harrow.

  Teresa stood back watching.

  When Menno finished, he gave the reins to Susan, and she climbed onto the single seat of the harrow.

  “How am I going to learn?” Teresa asked. “There’s no place for me.”

  Menno smiled. “Susan will take them around the field a few times to work off their friskiness. Then she’ll stand on the back behind the seat like I used to when I taught her how to drive the disk.”

  “Get-up!” Susan said. The horses lurched forward, the disk machine clattering into the plowed field.

  “Well, I’d best get back to my plowing,” Menno said, turning to go.

  Teresa watched him leave, his broad shoulders stooped. How sweet the man was under all that gruffness the Amish men carried around with them. Who would have thought it at first? She looked toward Susan making the turn at the other end of the field, swinging the horses around without slowing their walk.

  What must it be like to know such things, she thought. Being able to handle a team of horses? Knowing how to work soil into a condition that would grow food? Knowing what it felt like having a father stand behind you, guiding your hands while you learned to work a disk?

  She knew how to cook some now, and do laundry, and even sew a bit, but farm work was another matter. Teresa glanced over to the long lines of wash still swinging in the warm, spring afternoon breeze. This morning she had done all of that. Everything from checking the oil, adding fuel, and starting the gas motor on the washer to hanging the pieces of wash on the line with wooden clothespins. Even using the wringer no longer raised the hair on her arms with fear. Susan’s tales of children getting their hands caught in its spinning rubber rollers had sounded like a horror movie. “If your fingers ever get caught,” Susan had said, “hit this white bar like this. It will release the pressure.” She demonstrated by hitting the bar, and the wringers immediately separated.

  Teresa had tried it for practice, but she had never needed to do it for real. Now the rolling bars barely got her attention. She just made sure she held the garment a few inches from the spinning rubber, letting go before it was too late. It seemed natural, almost like breathing. Teresa brought her attention back to the field. Susan was halfway back, sitting on the seat with both hands on the reins. The disk bounced as it hit something, but Susan seemed undisturbed as she kept her feet on the boards under her.

  I’m actually going to do this! Teresa thought. The idea had been exhilarating in the house—another thing to learn in this strange community. But now as she watched it looked quite dangerous. Unlike the washing machine wringers, a person could get killed by those wicked-looking rolling blades, to say nothing about horses with long, powerful legs that could easily run away. “Don’t be scared!” she told herself. “If Susan can do it, I can.”

  Susan waved as she turned the horses around again.

  “One more round,” Susan hollered, “and then I’ll give you a chance.”

  “Okay!” Teresa yelled back, admiring how easy Susan made it look. How graceful her friend was, riding effortlessly on the metal seat. The circus performers she had seen on TV back home couldn’t have looked any more graceful.

  Teresa laughed at the thought. How long had it been since she had watched television? Months now, yet it seemed like years. All her mother’s warnings about missing what she used to have were so off mark. If Mom only knew.

  The thought of her mother turned Teresa’s smile to worry. What was Mom doing on such a wonderful spring day? Sleeping likely, or getting ready for another afternoon’s work at McDonald’s. That was if she still worked there. Mom didn’t know anything better, didn’t believe there was anything better. And yet there surely was. And Teresa was living it.

  Why couldn’t Mom come here and see for herself what she was experiencing? Teresa sighed. Like that was going to happen. Mom would have freaked out a long time ago. One look at Deacon Ray with his long, stern face and white beard. One whisper of who you had to marry, and Mom would have gone running home before the next sunrise.

  “But see, Mom, you’re so wrong,” Teresa whispered. “These people do know what they’re doing.”

  And now that they knew her better, they had seen fit to remove the restriction that she marry Yost Byler. But Yost Byler would be exactly what she needed in a husband. No more running around after men who caused shivers to run up and down her spine, but left horrible consequences in their wake. Yost Byler gave no shivers, but he was a safe man. And that’s what she needed. She would marry him, truly and completely leaving behind all her old life.

  “Yes, I will marry Yost Byler,” she said to the open fields. “I have finally come home.”

  Susan approached with the team.

  Teresa’s heart started to pound.

  “Ready?” Susan asked as she brought the team to a stop.

  “Yes, I guess so,” Teresa said. She moved forward and tripped, sprawling onto the ground, ending up with the huge, round feet of the horses inches from her nose.

  “Oh my!” Susan said, getting down and helping Teresa up. “That’s not a good way to start your day’s adventure.”

  “I might get killed yet,” Teresa worried, taking Susan’s hand. “But let the journey begin! I’m ready.”

  Susan laughed. “You are a hardy soul, indeed. Now sit on the seat, brace your feet on that board,” she said pointing. “I’ll be standing right behind you.”

  “What if I make you fall off?” Teresa asked.

  “Don’t worry about that. If I have to, I’ll jump sideways. I won’t get hurt.”

  “And what about me? I’ll be alone with the horses!”

  “Just holler ‘whoa’ really loud and pull back on the lines. They’ll be glad to stop,” Susan said.

  “Oh Lord, have mercy on me,” Teresa prayed as she positioned herself on the metal seat and braced her feet.

  “Now take the lines with both hands,” Susan instructed. “They will help you balance if you lean lightly backward, keeping some tension on them.”

  “Okay,” Teresa said. “But will you take care of Samuel if I die?”

  “Come on!” Susan laughed. “It’s not that hard.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  “Okay, here we go!” Susan said. “And this will be bouncy, so let yourself go with the flow. Kind of let your body flop around. Don’t fight it and soon you’ll get the rhythm.”

  “I think my brains will go flying out!” Teresa said, hanging on to the lines.

  “Get-up,” Susan ordered. She clucked. “Come on, boys! Teresa, I’m right here with you. It will be fine!”

  The horses moved forward, tightening the traces with a soft snap. Then they lurched forward.

  “How do I turn?” Teresa screamed.

  “You just pull the reins to the left or right. I’ll tell you when,” Susan said in Teresa’s ear. “I’m watching where we’re going.”

  Teresa hung on and closed her eyes for a few moments.

  “A little to the left,” Susan said.

  Teresa’s eyes whipped open and she jerked the lines left. The horses swung wide, their heads arched sideways.

  “Not that hard next time,” Susan said. “Pull back to the right.”

  Teresa jerked the lines right, and the horses’ heads and bodies swung the other way.

  “Here! Give me the lines!” Susan shouted in Teresa’s ear. “Hang on to the seat for a minute.”

  “I’m ruining your dad’s plowed field,” Teresa moaned as they bounced along.

  “It’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Susan said, bringing the horses back to a straight line and then stopping them. “Now here, try again.”

  “Oh my! I can’t!” Teresa cried, but she gr
abbed the lines. “This is much harder than it looks.”

  “Yes, but you can do it. Now, gently turn them to the left,” Susan instructed. “Gently…gently.”

  Teresa pulled, her touch lighter this time. The horses adjusted, turning slightly.

  “Now turn gently to the right.”

  The horses moved right as Teresa guided them. She let off the tension on the reins.

  “You did it! See, it’s easier than driving a car,” Susan said.

  “I’ve never driven a car,” Teresa retorted. “So I wouldn’t know.”

  “You’re doing fine,” Susan said. “Now say ‘get-up’ and cluck to them.”

  The horses moved forward in a straight line.

  “Now we’re coming to the end of the field, so take the horses to the left. Gently… not too hard,” Susan instructed. She reached around and added her hands to the reins.

  They made the half circle with four hands on the lines. Once the horses were going straight, Susan let go.

  “What an awful-looking line I’m leaving,” Teresa howled, as she looked back. “It looks like wavy lines.”

  “You’re doing fine for your first time. We’ll straighten it out on the way back,” Susan said, chuckling. “You didn’t do any harm.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Teresa said. “I’m getting off when we get back to the barn.”

  “Are you sure?” Susan asked. “This is just your first round. You’ll get the hang of it.”

  “It’s all my heart can handle,” Teresa said. “I’m getting dizzier by the minute.”

  “Do you want to stop now?” Susan asked, a bit alarmed.

  “No,” Teresa said, “but I’m getting off at the barn.”

  Minutes later, as they approached the barn, Susan said, “That was quite gut.”

  Teresa pulled back the lines, bringing the horses to a halt. She handed them to Susan, turned, and then jumped off in one leap, going down to her knees with the momentum.

  “Are you okay?” Susan asked.

  Teresa brushed off her skirt. “Glad to be alive mostly. I sure hope Yost doesn’t plan on me doing much of this.”