An Amish Gathering (Three Amish Novellas)

by Beth Wiseman

  “Nothing, just a hairpin I dropped.” Her fingers curled around it. She gave him her right hand and he helped her step down from the buggy.

  But even after there was no need, she continued to hold his hand as they stood there beside the buggy.

  Of course, it was at that exact moment that Rebecca had to drive by with Marian.

  “Wie geht!” Marian called.

  Rebecca’s eyes met Ben’s, then she looked at him holding hands with Mary Anne.

  Great, Ben thought. Just great. He tried to pull his hand back and was surprised to feel it held tightly by Mary Anne. Dragging his gaze away from Rebecca, he was startled to see Mary Anne’s smile as she looked at Rebecca.

  Using more force, he retrieved his hand and backed away. But the damage was done. Rebecca was looking straight ahead as the buggy moved on.

  “Well, you’d better get inside. It’s cold out here.”

  “See you later!” she called loudly, as if she wanted the occupants of the other buggy to hear.

  Ben climbed into his buggy and continued on home. What a mess, he told himself. How he wished he could go back and undo what he’d said that day in town. Then he sighed. No, he’d felt it was time to speak to Rebecca as he had, and now at least he knew he needed to move on.

  But he didn’t think Mary Anne was the one he wanted to move on with.

  Ben’s mother was cooking supper when he walked into the kitchen after work the next day.

  “You’re home early. Again.”

  He stopped and stared at her. “Ya. Is that a problem?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Of course not. Sit down, I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

  He sat and watched her reach for two mugs and pour the coffee. She moved a little stiffly—her arthritis acted up sometimes in the winter—but she never complained. Her hair was salt and pepper but her face was smooth, the only lines were those around her eyes when she smiled. Mamm was in her sixties. From what she’d told him, he was a surprise gift from God long after she thought she’d borne her last child.

  She served him his coffee and surprised him by kissing the top of his head before she joined him at the table with her own cup. “This is the only way I can be on the same level with you, since you’ve grown so tall.”

  He smiled at her, then his smile faded as he stared into his cup of coffee. “Guess you never thought you’d have me hanging around the house so long, did you?”

  “Now you’re being a bensel!” she said fondly.

  “I’m hardly a silly child,” he told her. “I’m twenty-two. Most of my friends have married. Some of them even have kinner.”

  “You’re hardly an old man. It just hasn’t been your time yet.”

  He traced the grain of wood on the table with his forefinger and avoided looking at her.

  “Sohn, do you want to tell me what’s troubling you? I think it must have something to do with Rebecca.”

  His head shot up. “Why do you say that?”

  She smiled gently. “You’ve been home for dinner every night lately.”

  “Maybe I missed your cooking.”

  Laughing, Emma shook her head. “I don’t think so. But I think you’re missing Rebecca.”

  “I’m seeing someone else. Mary Anne. You know her.”

  “You’re missing Rebecca,” she repeated. “Otherwise you would not look so miserable, mei sohn.”

  She put her hand over his. “I do not wish to pry if you’ve decided to see Mary Anne instead.” She paused. “But I think something has happened, something that hurts you so much you would stay away from a young woman you’ve cared about for years. She was your friend, if she was nothing more.”

  “She turned me down.” Ben looked up. “I asked if she would marry me, and she turned me down.”

  His mamm stared at him, clearly shocked. “Did she say why?”

  “She said if I didn’t know why, she wasn’t going to tell me.”

  “Ach! She didn’t!”

  “She did.”

  Leaning back in her chair, she studied Ben. “Tell me what you said to her.”

  He shrugged. “I just—you know—asked her if she would marry me.”

  “Exact words, please.”

  He relayed the conversation as precisely as he could remember. His mother listened without expression or comment until he was finished, but he thought he saw her wince once. Maybe it was his imagination.

  His father came in then, stamping his boots on the mat by the door.

  “Why, look who’s home.” Samuel took off his coat and hat and joined them in the kitchen.

  “I found out why,” Emma said, getting up to pull a meat loaf from the oven and set it on top of the stove to rest.

  Samuel took the mug of coffee she poured him and joined Ben at the table. “Figured you would.” He turned to Ben. “Good day at work?”

  “Ya,” Ben said, relieved at the change in subject.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why?” Emma asked, putting her hands on her hips.

  “Emma, you know it’s not our way to pry into how our young people court.”

  Ben’s head snapped up. “Court?”

  “I didn’t tell him,” his mother assured him. “How could I? You and I were just talking now.”

  “I’ve got eyes. And ears,” his father said. “I see things. Hear things. If Ben wants to tell me, he will.” He glanced pointedly at the meat loaf.

  His mother let out a gusty sigh. Going to the stove, she transferred the meat loaf to a platter and set it on the table. “Well, I don’t want to get in between a man and his stomach.”

  “Gut,” Samuel said with a grin. “That’s why we’ve been happily married for so many years, mei fraa.”

  If Ben hadn’t been watching his mother, he might not have seen the gleam come into her eyes. She finished putting the food on the table, bringing a plate of sliced bread and a crock of budder. They bent their heads for the blessing, then it was silent at the table for a few minutes while they filled their plates and ate the savory meat, carrots, potatoes, celery, and parsnips.

  Emma cleared the empty plates, brought a snitz pie to the table, cut two large slices, and served them to her men. She picked up her mug of coffee. “I think I’ll let you two men talk over dessert,” she announced.

  “You’re not feeling well?” Ben asked her.

  She shook her head and stroked his hair the way she’d done when he was a boy. “I’ll have some later. I think I’ll go put my feet up for a few minutes. I was on them quite a bit this afternoon helping a friend with some cleaning.”

  “You’re sure you’re feeling okay?” his daed asked.

  Emma smiled at her husband. “I’m fine.” She kissed his cheek.

  “Maybe you can tell Ben how you asked me to marry you.”

  Daed tilted his head and studied her. “I could do that, if he wanted to know.”

  Ben watched his father’s eyes follow his fraa as she left the kitchen. Then he began eating the pie.

  It was quiet in the room, with just the scrape of fork on plate and an occasional slurping of coffee by his father. Ben could hear the ticking of the kitchen clock.

  Ben was used to his father’s stoic ways, but finally he could stand it no longer. “Well, are you going to tell me?”

  Samuel looked at him. “Ya, sure, if you want to know.”

  More silence filled the room, as Samuel cut another piece of pie and poured himself more coffee.

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Ya, I want to know.”

  He was ready for winter to be over. As he hunched inside his coat, riding to Rebecca’s house, he looked for signs of spring.

  Each year, when winter came, Ben saw a sadness come over Rebecca. Then, this year, he’d seen a change in her, a moving past the tragedy of Lizzie’s death. She was growing, changing, even laughing. Oh, how he loved her laugh!

  Perhaps he hadn’t waited long enough for her to really look out at the world around her—and at the man looking at her. He’
d thought only of his own wants and needs. He’d convinced himself that it was God’s will that they should be together. Now.

  She’d tried to apologize to him for saying she didn’t want to be courted, and he’d been angry and turned her away.

  It wasn’t one of his shining moments.

  He needed to tell her he wasn’t angry with her. She had a right to say no. Maybe she’d grown so used to seeing him in her home that she’d begun to think of him as a brother. He shuddered at the thought. He certainly didn’t think of her as a sister.

  But just because she wasn’t interested in him as a future husband, was he really willing to throw away the years of friendship with her, the memories? The answer was no.

  But he didn’t know what to do with the love he felt for her.

  Ben jerked on the reins, and Ike stopped abruptly, then turned to look at him as if to say, “What?”

  Glancing around, Ben was grateful there were no cars behind him. He could have caused an accident. Pulling over to the side of the road, he stared at the frozen pond in the distance. What he’d said that day in town came rushing back.

  He hadn’t said anything about love.

  No, he’d been so nervous, rushed at things as if it were a job to be completed quickly instead of a foundation to build a future on. He had talked about how they “suited” each other.

  As if they were socks and boots pairing up to stay warm for the winter, he thought, instead of two souls who loved each other and would merge in God’s presence to form a loving union.

  What a fool he’d been!

  Even his father, whom he didn’t think of as an articulate or romantic man, had done better than him. The comparison had made him wince.

  He needed to talk to her and make things right between them. Even if he wasn’t as gifted with words as other young men, surely he could find a way to tell her that he was sorry for his anger, sorry for the way he’d asked to court her.

  It was one of her workdays at the shop. Ben decided to drive to her house and meet her there when she arrived, ask to speak to her. Surely she wouldn’t refuse him that.

  Rebecca’s day had been stressful. Customers had been standing at the door when she arrived. A tourist had pointedly remarked that she was five minutes late opening.

  Since one of the reasons people came here to visit was because they wanted to experience a slower, more peaceful way of life, Rebecca had been surprised at the comment. She was going to tell the tourist that Brownie had not been feeling well that morning and she’d had to arrange for a ride to work, but changed her mind when the woman quickly pounced on their most expensive quilt and proclaimed she had to have it.

  Anita called in to say she had a plumbing emergency at her condo and would get in as quickly as she could. The whole day was hectic, and Anita finally arrived the last half hour the shop was open, apologizing profusely.

  But that wasn’t the end of their bad day.

  On the way home, they had a flat tire. Grumbling, Anita pulled onto the side of the road. Anita rooted around in the trunk and brought out a spare tire and a jack.

  She looked at Rebecca. “I’ve never changed a tire. You?” Then, realizing what she’d asked, she started laughing.

  Rebecca laughed too. What else could they do?

  “Wait a minute, what am I thinking?” Anita said suddenly. She pulled out her cell phone. “I have roadside service.”

  But before she could dial, a buggy stopped beside them. “Rebecca! Do you need help?” a man called.

  “Jacob! Ya, we have a flat tire. Do you know how to change it?”

  “Of course.” He pulled his buggy over and joined them beside the car. After touching the brim of his hat and introducing himself to Anita, he set to work. In no time, the tire was changed, and the flat one and the jack were in the trunk.

  “Well, I hope your mother isn’t worried that you’re late getting home,” Anita said.

  “I just went by there, looking for you,” Jacob told Rebecca. “She said she expected you soon.”

  “Jacob, would you mind taking Rebecca home? I’d like to take this tire by my garage before they close.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks for everything. See you, Rebecca.” Anita winked at her when Jacob started toward his buggy.

  Rebecca didn’t feel at her best after the long day at work, but she was grateful for the ride home. Her back and feet were aching, and she was afraid her stomach was going to growl at any moment. She’d been too rushed to stop for lunch.

  All she wanted to do was eat her supper and put her feet up and relax. But Jacob was being charming and acted so interested in talking to her.

  Obviously, Ben had decided to do what she’d heard the Englisch call “moving on”; maybe it was time for her to start looking at someone new too. She’d gone to school with Jacob, and he’d always been nice to her.

  When they pulled into the drive, Rebecca saw Ben sitting there in his buggy.

  Jacob glanced at Rebecca and raised his eyebrows.

  “He’s probably here to see my father,” Rebecca said. Why else would Ben visit? “They work together.”

  “Ya, I know.”

  “Thank you for the ride and for changing Anita’s tire.”

  “I was happy to help. Rebecca, I came by because I thought I’d see if you’d like to go for a drive sometime?”

  “I’d like that.”

  They set a day and time. She climbed out of the buggy and waved as he drove off. Then she turned and found Ben alighting from his buggy.

  “What was he doing giving you a ride?”

  When she stared coolly at him, he shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, that was none of my business,” he said.

  “Did you come to see Daed? You could have gone inside. It’s cold out here.”

  “I came to see you. Can we take a drive and talk?”

  Rebecca rubbed at her aching forehead. “The other day you didn’t want to talk. Now you do?”

  “I was wrong,” he said simply. “I came to apologize.”

  The memory of how he’d hurt her was as sharp as the cold winter wind. “Apology accepted.” But her lips were stiff as she spoke the words. “I—Thank you for coming by.” And she rushed inside.

  Chapter Eleven

  SUNDAY WAS HER FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK.

  Rebecca loved gathering with friends and family to attend services and sing God’s praises. And every other week, when there were no services in a member’s home, she loved gathering with friends and family just to enjoy the day.

  Today, services had been in the home of Ben’s parents. She had to admit that she was a little apprehensive about seeing them for the first time since she’d turned Ben down. She didn’t think Ben’s mother would be rude to her—that wasn’t her way. But she’d been nervous about how much he might have said to her about what had happened between them two weeks ago.

  She told herself that chances were good that he hadn’t even told them.

  “So good to see you again, Rebecca.” Emma’s hug was warm and welcoming.

  If Emma knew anything, she wasn’t going to let it affect how she treated Rebecca. Rebecca felt herself relax.

  Other women bustled about them in the kitchen after services, chattering as they prepared the light meal that would be served before everyone departed.

  Mary Anne sidled over, holding out a plate of butterscotch cookies. “Emma, I made Ben’s favorite cookies.” She gave Rebecca a superior look.

  “Very nice. Why don’t you put them over there on the counter?” Emma said.

  Was it Rebecca’s imagination that Emma wasn’t as welcoming to Mary Anne as she’d been to her? Then she heard Emma sigh as she watched Mary Anne smile smugly as she showed off the cookies to a friend standing on the other side of the kitchen.

  The older woman turned to look at Rebecca. “I haven’t seen you for a long time. How is the family? Work?”

  “The family’s fine. Work is busy like always.” Re
becca glanced around. She had arrived right on time and had missed seeing Ben.

  “He’s out in the barn.”

  “Who?”

  There was a distinct gleam of mischief in Emma’s faded blue eyes. “You know who. My youngest son.”

  “I—wasn’t looking for him.”

  The gleam of mischief faded, and Emma took Rebecca’s hand and drew her into the hallway for what privacy they could manage.

  “You’ve known my son for a long time. You know words don’t always come easy to him. He’s like his father in that respect—he’s a good man, but a quiet one. Some women might not recognize that.”

  Rebecca glanced down at the work-worn hand that held hers, then looked up at the older woman. “I do. But . . .” She struggled for words. “Emma, Ben doesn’t feel about me the way you think he does.”

  “Really?” Emma looked disbelieving.

  Mary Anne took that moment to walk slowly past them. Rebecca noticed that she took her time and swept the two of them with an assessing look.

  “Ben is . . . looking in another direction.” Her gaze followed Mary Anne as she found Ben and stopped him to talk.

  “Promise me you won’t do anything quickly,” Emma said.

  Puzzled, Rebecca stared at her. “Like what?”

  “Like look elsewhere yourself.”

  She thought about Jacob. But one drive to have lunch was hardly looking. Jacob is nice, but he’s not . . . Ben. “I’m not, Emma. I’m busy with my job and helping out at home. And it’s not like there are a herd of suitors chasing after me,” she admitted ruefully.

  To her surprise, Emma touched her chin with her hand, and Rebecca was forced to look up at her. “I know you must have felt you lived in Lizzie’s shadow,” she told her quietly. “She was so exuberant people couldn’t help noticing her. But there’s an expression I always thought fit you: ‘still waters run deep.’ You have a sweet, thoughtful nature, and you look out for others before yourself.” She smiled. “Now, I probably shouldn’t have spoken at all, but my heart prompted me to. Give it some time, liebschen.” She walked slowly back into the kitchen.

  Rebecca was relieved to watch her sink into a chair. It was obvious that her arthritis, which was worse in winter, was making movement difficult for her today. Yet Emma hadn’t been willing to cancel services or stay in bed while others were guests in her home.