by Ruth Reid
Andrew wanted to challenge his father’s comment, fearing it meant Judith’s application for baptism would be rejected, but he held his tongue. He had nothing against Clare King. She was a fine baptized girl. But knowing how she’d voiced her interest in him months ago, he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea tonight.
Andrew recalled the church gatherings in Clare’s district. He had commented that the food was good, and Clare’s mother made a point to tell him which dish Clare had cooked. He never repeated that mistake. Clare and her mother had followed him like flies on honey, coaxing him to eat more of the rice pudding.
His father cleared his throat. “The King girl is of marrying age.”
Andrew sucked in a ragged breath. He’d agree to accompany her home after the singing, but he would never marry her—even to gain his father’s approval. Didn’t he remember her family’s failed effort to marry her to a third cousin from Pennsylvania? Even the promise of farmland didn’t keep the man in Michigan.
Andrew hung the towel around his neck. “I’ll make sure she gets home.” He held the ends of the towel, thinking it was a noose slipped around his neck. His father gave a satisfactory nod, then walked away. Andrew followed in silence. Once he entered the house, he went straight to his room.
Andrew tried to focus on what he would tell Judith as he clasped the hook-and-eye on his vest. He dreaded attending the singing now. He sat on the edge of his mattress to pull up his black socks and shove his feet into the snug-fitting shoes.
Before his father broke the news that he would be escorting Clare, he’d worried that the courting buggy hadn’t been fixed up the way he wanted. Now it almost seemed fitting for it to be grungy tonight. He certainly wasn’t out to impress Clare.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Andrew climbed into the courting buggy and gazed at the clear night sky. The ride home from singing would be cold, and the open buggy didn’t offer any shield from the wind. He was glad he’d remembered to bring a blanket. The heat of guilt spread over him. If he were driving Judith, he’d offer her his coat—his embrace to shield the wind. He couldn’t make any encouraging advances toward Clare. She needed to know, in a tasteful way, that he wouldn’t be calling again.
He made a clicking sound, signaling Patsy into a trot. He wanted to be the first to arrive at Judith’s house, hoping he’d have a moment alone with her. Clare’s family had arranged for her younger brother to bring her to the gathering.
Seeing Levi’s buggy parked near the barn, Andrew growled under his breath as he tethered Patsy to the post. He drew a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how the night would play out, but he had no intention of pairing up with Clare . . . and he hoped Levi’s plans were not to mingle with Judith.
Andrew tugged his vest into place, then tapped on the door. He craned his neck as he tried to view the sitting room from the door window. Neither Judith nor Levi was in sight.
When Judith opened the door, the aroma of apple pie baited his senses. Distracted by the memory of their kiss, he couldn’t think of what to say. All he could think about was how much he liked the taste of her sweetened lips that day.
Judith waved her hand toward the wall hook and smiled. “You can take your hat off and stay if you wish.”
He slid the hat from his head and placed it on the hook. Once composed, he turned back to her and licked his lips. “I smell baked apples.” He raised his brows. “I remember how tasty they were in the orchard.” He studied the fullness of her lips.
“Andrew Lapp,” she scolded under her breath.
He leaned closer. “My mamm adds Thomas when she wants to make her point clear.”
Levi poked his head around the corner of the kitchen. “Bishop Junior, I see you’ve decided to join us.”
Andrew followed Judith to the kitchen and stopped near Levi. “I like to sing.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “But does anyone like to hear you?”
“Levi, stop that.” Judith’s brows furrowed.
Andrew groaned. Public protection by a woman would only feed Levi’s insults. A knock on the door drew Judith’s attention, and she excused herself.
Levi motioned toward the door. “Hiding behind the skirt, Bishop—”
“Has Andrew arrived?” Clare’s question drowned out Levi’s words.
Levi raised his brows. “You have a date?”
Andrew didn’t want to call her a date, but he didn’t want to admit that his father had made the arrangements either. He was stuck, and the expression on his face must have made that plain.
Levi crossed his arms and chuckled. “You dog.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what being a dog was in Levi’s eyes, but he didn’t like the thought. Andrew stepped around the corner as Clare continued to question Judith.
“What time do you think the singing will end?” She didn’t wait for Judith’s reply. She turned to Andrew when he came into view. “Mamm asked that you have me home by ten o’clock.”
“Sure.” Andrew studied Judith, wishing he could decipher her expression. Her posture hadn’t shifted; her smile remained warm. If he had arrived sooner, he could have explained. But the longer he watched her, the more convinced he became that she wasn’t disappointed. The situation wasn’t awkward to anyone but him.
Judith glanced at Clare, then at Andrew. With a slight tilt of her head toward Clare, Judith widened her eyes at him.
“Ach, I’m sorry. Judith Fischer, this is Clare King. She lives in the south district.” Andrew traveled every other Sunday with his father for the services held in Clare’s district. It had slipped his mind that Judith wouldn’t know her, since not all the families attended services held outside of their own community.
“My brother Timothy is tending to the horse.” Clare looked at Judith. “I hope you don’t mind if he joins us.”
“It will be wundebaar to have you both,” Judith replied.
Clare cringed. “Three, actually. He brought a friend.” She turned to Andrew. “Sadie Hartzler. You know her, she’s my neighbor.”
Distracted by watching Judith for signs of discomfort, Andrew failed to acknowledge Clare, and she continued.
“We don’t count the Englisch farms in between us. The Hartzlers are my Amish neighbors.”
Andrew nodded, more pretending than following her explanation. He studied Judith’s natural smile.
Clare held up the covered dish she’d brought. “I made rice pudding. I know how much you liked it the last time I made it.”
Andrew offered a half smile. He remembered eating the pudding and thinking he might choke.
More arrivals drew Judith’s attention away from them as she greeted the newcomers.
Andrew motioned to Clare. “I’ll show you where you can leave the dish.” He stepped into the kitchen, and Clare followed.
Levi and a few others loitering in the kitchen came closer when Clare placed her dish with the others on the counter.
Levi craned his neck around Andrew’s shoulder. “What’s that?” He smiled at Clare as she removed the lid. “Rice pudding?”
“Jah.” Clare clasped her hands behind her back and swayed as she looked at Andrew. “I was told before it tasted gut.”
“I look forward to trying some.” Levi glanced at Andrew, then turned back to Clare. “I’m Andrew’s cousin Levi.”
“I’ve seen you before, but I don’t think you noticed me. Last year”—she leaned closer and lowered her voice—“at the bonfire party near the Weavers’ stone pile.”
Levi cocked his head and grinned.
Clare’s face reddened. “I’m baptized nau. I no longer participate in rumschpringe.”
Andrew cleared his throat. “I’m going to say hello to Samuel.” He left Clare talking with Levi and silently prayed that they would find a connection tonight. Maybe if he left them alone long enough, Levi would offer to drive her home when the singing ended.
Maybe he would keep Samuel company and listen to the idle chatter in between songs from his room. B
ut when he opened the door he saw Martha in the room.
“I just wanted to say hello to Samuel.”
“Andrew.” Samuel tapped the mattress beside him.
Martha closed the book she’d been reading and stood. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I haven’t heard any singing yet,” Samuel said.
Andrew sat next to the boy. “I’m sure it will start soon.”
Samuel positioned his hands on the mattress so he could raise himself into an upright position. “Are you going to come over so we can build meiya?”
Andrew ruffled Samuel’s hair. “You need to have a gut night’s sleep first.”
“I will,” Samuel promised.
The door opened, and Martha came back in with a frown on her face. She plopped down on the wooden chair next to the bed and let out a long sigh.
Andrew smoothed out Samuel’s hair with his hand. “I’ll see you meiya. Sleep well.” He glanced again at Martha, then slipped out of the room.
Levi met him at the end of the hallway. “Help me out, will you?”
“Depends.”
Levi looked both ways and leaned forward. “Fix it up so I can be alone with Judith.”
Andrew shook his head. “Nay.” He took a step forward, but stopped when Levi’s hand pressed against his chest.
“I’ve kumm to my senses,” he whispered.
“Have you nau?” He motioned toward Samuel’s room. “Have you told that to Martha?”
Levi shrugged. “Nett so direct.” He looked again toward the bedrooms. “Martha wants me to take her away. Leave the faith.” His eyes widened. “I thought about it. Until last nacht. A car pushed me off the road, and the buggy nearly flipped.” Levi tapped his chest. “Ich kumm to mei senses nau. I’m not leaving the faith. Besides, Judith will make a fine fraa. And if she’s got a wedding to plan, she’ll drop the angel talk . . . The community will accept her again.” Levi made a sharp nod. “Help me out, jah?”
“You stay away from Judith. She’s over you.” At least he’d been praying she was.
Perhaps Levi did have a sobering incident—but he hadn’t mentioned once that he loved Judith. Andrew moved past him and continued to the kitchen. This wasn’t a good night to be obligated to give someone else a ride home.
Judith thought she could be happy for Andrew. He’d found the courage to ask Clare to the singing—that was a start. But the poor guy looked so uncomfortable. He squirmed in his seat as if he had a burr in his pants. He sat between Levi and the man who had introduced himself as Clare’s brother, Timothy. Timothy seemed pleasant enough, as did his date, Sadie.
As they sang the song Clare suggested, a cheerful tune with a fast beat, Judith scanned the row of men seated across the table from the girls. Andrew’s shoulders were the broadest of all. Dragging fallen trees out of the woods and lifting the furniture he made had built his rugged stature. Judith’s thoughts drifted to the memory of Andrew holding her in his arms, the ticking of his heart against her ear . . .
“Judith?” Levi tapped her hand. “It’s your turn to pick a song.”
She sat upright and turned to Deborah on her left. “Why don’t you choose one? All I can think of are slow hymns.”
Deborah picked a song, and they all joined in. Judith gave her friend a grateful smile. She knew she was the only one who had never attended an evening of singing before.
They sang several more songs before people stood and stretched. Judith took that as a sign to prepare the refreshments. The men wandered out to the porch, and the women clustered around the kitchen counter sharing recipes and talking about who was driving whom home.
Judith wanted to avoid that topic. The bright side, if she dared to think there was a bright side, was that she didn’t need a ride home. As she placed the pot of apple cider on the stove to warm and tossed in a few sticks of cinnamon, she overheard Clare say to Leah, one of her good friends, that she’d been baptized last month and hoped to marry soon.
“Do you think Andrew will ask you?” Leah asked.
Judith kept her back to them, stirring the cider, but made sure her metal spoon didn’t scrape the pot so she could hear Clare’s reply.
“I overheard my parents talking to his father,” Clare said. “They’ve all given their approval.”
Judith’s heart grew as heavy as a laundry basket full of wet towels.
Deborah tapped her shoulder and nodded toward the sitting room. Judith followed her friend out of the kitchen.
“You all right?” Deborah said. “You seemed upset by Clare’s comment.”
Judith swept the wrinkles from her apron. She couldn’t confess that she and Andrew had kissed. Not even to her closest friend. “I would think we would have met her before tonight, is all.”
Deborah lowered her voice. “Is nett all. You’ve fallen for him.”
“He’s a friend.” Judith brushed her arm as if her sleeve had balls of lint attached. She’d made the mistake of thinking her camaraderie with Andrew was something more than mere friendship. That he wasn’t pretending when he kissed her.
“Nau what I overheard after service makes sense.”
“What did you hear?”
Deborah looked over her shoulder. “I heard the bishop was upset when you and Andrew disappeared after the meal.”
“We met on the path to the river and talked.”
“I heard he forbade Andrew to spend time with you.”
Forbidden. Judith swallowed. “That means he plans to shun him?”
Deborah shrugged. “I sure wouldn’t think he would shun his own son.”
“Jah, the church is first.” Judith saw how much David had changed, and he was only a deacon. Ach, why did you have to befriend me, Andrew?
Her eyes welled and she wished she could hate him for stealing her heart. Andrew Lapp had intruded in her life. He’d sought her friendship. Judith sucked in a deep breath. He could have pretended that her lips didn’t touch his cheek and not responded with such a heart-melting kiss. Now his relationship with the church was in jeopardy.
“It shouldn’t be an issue, nau that Andrew is getting married.” Judith motioned to the kitchen. “I should finish preparing the cider.”
Being the hostess helped Judith to keep out of uncomfortable conversation. This night could not end quickly enough for her liking.
The front door opened then, and the men came back inside. Levi helped himself to a healthy portion of Clare’s rice pudding, while Andrew took a spoonful.
“I thought I should leave enough so that everyone could sample it,” he told Clare after she protested.
Judith ladled apple cider into coffee cups and passed them out before she fixed a plate of food for herself. She spooned some of Clare’s pudding onto her plate and scolded herself for thinking it was runny.
When everyone took a place at the table, Levi insisted that “Bishop Junior” lead them in prayer. Andrew’s jaw tightened, but he did as Levi asked. Judith didn’t pay attention to his words. Her thoughts drifted to how Levi wouldn’t be able to tease him once he’d married Clare and became eligible for a ministry role.
Once Andrew finished the prayer, he took his seat at the table and picked up his fork. Judith watched to see what he would eat first. When he chose her apple pie, her exhaled breath caused him to pause and gaze at her before getting the fork to his mouth.
Andrew chewed leisurely. If he was savoring the flavor or aware that Judith was waiting for a sign of his approval, he didn’t show it. She asked herself why it mattered. But she knew. All the women wanted their dish to be the best. A silent vying for a husband.
“Gut pie, Judith.” Levi lifted his fork in salute.
“Denki.”
Another man added that he liked the crust.
Andrew continued to eat.
Judith found herself mesmerized by the rhythmic movement of Andrew’s square jaw. She forced herself to redirect her focus and turned sideways in her chair toward Clare.
“Your rice pudding
is very tasty.” Levi poured out compliments the same way he layered hotcakes with syrup—sweet, sticky, and oozing with charm.
Clare’s giggle became a muffled background to Judith’s thoughts. Levi’s flirting was predictable, and it didn’t even hurt. The bitterness, the envy, the anger of betrayal—they were gone. “Thank You, God,” Judith whispered under her breath.
Andrew scraped his fork across the plate to gather the last crumb. Judith caught him staring at the dollop of rice pudding shoved to the side. He readied his cup of cider in one hand and his fork in the other and gulped as she’d seen Samuel do a hundred times before he choked down turnip greens. Andrew shoved the bite into his mouth and chased down the pudding with a cup-draining drink of cider. His eyes closed.
Judith’s chair screeched against the wood floor as she moved away from the table. She filled a fresh cup of cider and brought it to Andrew. “Thirsty?” She exchanged cups with him and took the empty one to the sink. “There’s plenty of food. Andrew, would you like more rice pudding?”
Levi jumped up from the table with his empty plate. “I’ll eat another helping.”
Judith spooned a generous portion onto Levi’s plate. She shrugged at Andrew. “Sorry, you didn’t speak up fast enough.” She turned to Clare. “You’ll have to make him another batch.”
Clare looked across the table at Andrew and sighed. “Next Sunday, I will.” Clare’s trusting smile slapped Judith with guilt. Teasing Andrew was one thing, but she never intended to poke fun at Clare’s pudding.
She studied the other young woman’s high cheekbones, her straight white teeth, and even the daintiness of her earlobes. Judith touched her own ears. They flared out from her head and her lobes were fat. Bringing her hand down to her lap, she noticed the dirt embedded in the cracks of her knuckles. She glanced at Clare’s smooth hands, wondering if she ever worked in the garden. Her hands were not calloused from pulling weeds as Judith’s were.
Several people stood at once and began to make their exit. “Denki for hosting the singing,” they took turns saying.