Amish Sweethearts

by Leslie Gould

  “Did you have a good birthday?” Shani asked. He’d been out in the field.

  He held up a cookie. “Starting yesterday, yes. Thank you for the package.”

  She smiled. She’d sent him a box of twenty-one snickerdoodles, his favorite, vacuum-sealed.

  Shani asked him about Grant and Wade. He said they were fine but didn’t elaborate. “Casey is the same as always,” he added with a grin.

  Shani laughed. “How’d you know what I was going to ask next?”

  Zane shrugged and grinned again.

  Toward the end of the call, Joel asked about their mission.

  “I can’t give particulars,” Zane answered.

  “Of course,” Joel responded.

  “But lots of good things are happening. I really like the Afghan people I’m working with. Would you pray for protection for them?”

  “Yes,” Shani said.

  “We have one translator in particular that I’ve connected with. We’re doing good work. I feel the best I have about—what I committed to do.”

  “Great,” Joel said. “You’ve always been so good at building relationships.”

  Shani just nodded because she had a lump in her throat that she couldn’t speak around. Plus she didn’t want to get mushy on him.

  Joel leaned closer. “How is the language part going?”

  “Good. The learning curve is pretty steep, but I’m improving.”

  Shani had a feeling he was being modest.

  “I should be back down in the valley in another couple of weeks. I’ll let you know and hopefully we can Skype then again. And then in April too. But then in May I’ll be home for furlough.”

  Shani found her voice again. “That’s fantastic!”

  “Why so soon?” Joel asked.

  “It’s just how the schedule worked out,” he said. “Mid-May. I’ll get you the exact dates next month.”

  “What do you want to do when you’re home?” Joel asked.

  “Hang out. Eat. Sleep,” Zane replied. “Spend time with all of you. The usual.”

  Adam stepped closer to the screen.

  “We’ll talk in a couple of weeks—okay, Bub?”

  Adam nodded.

  “See you all then,” Zane said. “I love you.”

  “We love you too,” Shani said, her heart full. Zane waved and then the signing-off tone bleeped, and he was gone.

  They all stood stunned for a moment until Adam said, “He seems good.”

  “Yeah.” Shani put her arm around Adam, pulling him close, and reached for Joel’s hand and squeezed it. He squeezed hers back. Finally she felt a measure of peace about Zane. He was growing. He was learning. He’d asked for prayer. God was working in his life.

  By the time Shani reached the back room of Thread by Thread, the other women had settled in around the quilt frame. The green, brown, and purple squares of Simon’s quilt that Lila had pieced together stretched across it. “Sorry I’m late,” she said as she dropped her bag on the chair closest to the door. “We were able to Skype with Zane this morning.”

  “How is he?” Eve asked.

  “Good. Better than he’s sounded since . . . well, since he joined the Army,” Shani answered. When Lila stirred a little on the other side of the frame, Shani wondered if she’d said too much. She hurried to explain. “It sounds as if his translating work is going well, and he’s making good connections with the Afghans he’s working with.”

  “What a blessing,” Leona said, looking up from where she sat in her rocking chair. She was obviously supervising. She wasn’t up to stitching yet.

  “He asked for us to pray for protection for the Afghan people he’s getting to know,” Shani said.

  Lila looked up but then quickly dropped her head again. Leona clucked her tongue. “I’ll pray too,” she said. “It would be a privilege.”

  “How are you feeling?” Shani asked, stepping around the frame to give the older woman a hug.

  “Much better. I finally seem to be healing.”

  Shani squeezed the woman’s shoulder, but gently. Lila had called her two weeks before to check Leona’s wound. It had been fine, but understandably unsettling for a nonmedical person.

  Next Shani hugged Lila. “How are you, sweetie?”

  “Good,” Lila answered. “Everything has been fine this week. Right, Mammi?”

  Leona nodded. “I’m afraid I’m doing so well that Lila will get bored and want to go home.”

  “Ach,” Lila said. “Don’t count on that. Peaceful is not the same as boring.”

  “And how are you?” Shani asked Eve, giving her a hug next.

  “Good,” Eve responded, looking up into Shani’s eyes as she released her. Shani knew she wasn’t. Eve had been hoping to get pregnant since her wedding day, and a few weeks ago she’d thought she was. But she’d been disappointed again.

  “Zane’s coming home sooner on furlough than we expected,” Shani said as she sat back down. “Around the middle of May.”

  “That is soon,” Leona said.

  Lila kept her head down, and Shani couldn’t see her reaction. Eve looked up from the quilt, her eyes bright. “That’s wonderful.”

  Shani nodded. Her anxiety rose again, fearing what could happen between now and then. Help me to trust, she prayed. It had been easier after seeing him on the computer screen, having him ask for prayer. Now it felt a little harder again. She knew seeing his face didn’t make him any safer, not in reality, but still it had felt that way. When he’d first shipped out, she’d sought out some military moms support groups online but after just a few days she realized the chatter was making her more anxious, not less. She knew the sites worked for lots of moms—just not for her. Quilting on Saturdays was much more beneficial to her.

  The shop door buzzed, and Lila pulled her needle through the fabric and said, “I’ll get it.”

  Eve and Leona were both silent for a moment, but then Leona said, “Reuben has come by a few times.”

  Shani smiled. “He seems like such a nice man.”

  “He is,” Leona said. “He adores Lila. He’s helping Tim with the milking every morning so Lila can be here with me.”

  Shani hadn’t realized that. She thought Rose was milking two times a day. “That’s awfully kind of him,” she said.

  Leona nodded. “When he’s here, he dotes on her. I think he’d do anything for her.”

  If anyone deserved to be waited on, it was Lila. Shani wouldn’t be surprised if she and Reuben married next November, just before Zane would be getting home from Afghanistan. That made her both happy and incredibly sad, all at the same time.

  The voices in the shop grew louder, and then Trudy poked her head into the sewing room. She ran to Shani first, giving her a hug, and then Eve, and finally she stopped at her grandmother’s chair. Leona put her arm around the little girl. “I’m so glad you came to see me. Where’s Rose?”

  “She and Lila are talking. Rose wants her to come home.”

  “I bet she does.” Leona drew the little girl closer. “How about you?”

  A tear rolled down Trudy’s cheek. “Oh, dear.” Leona kissed the top of her head. “Go tell her to come on in, and you can sit on her lap. She and I will talk. She’ll go home soon.”

  Trudy obeyed her grandmother and returned, pulling Lila along. As soon as Lila sat, she pulled Trudy onto her lap. Rose followed, a disgruntled look on her face, but she brightened a little as she hugged her grandmother.

  “How are you?” Leona asked.

  “Tired,” Rose answered. “The milking. All the chores. Taking Trudy to school and picking her up.” She sighed. “It’s exhausting.”

  Shani glanced down at the quilt, even though she didn’t even have a needle in her hand yet, so her expression wouldn’t give away. Every woman in the room—except for herself—did or had worked harder than Rose. But still Shani felt sorry for the girl. She was only sixteen, and housework didn’t seem to come naturally to her, the way it did some women. She wasn’t getting th
e chance to explore life and spend time with other people her age, which a girl with her personality would understandably crave.

  “It takes some time to get used to,” Eve said.

  “Rose is tired of taking me to school,” Trudy said, snuggling against Lila.

  “Ach, I didn’t mean what I said,” Rose countered. “Just yesterday morning when I was so tired I kept falling asleep while I was trying to drive the buggy.”

  Trudy turned her face up toward Lila’s. “Can you come home? You’ve been gone a long time.”

  “Soon,” Lila said, squeezing her youngest sister.

  “That’s what you said last time,” Trudy said. “Hasn’t it been soon yet?”

  Lila smiled. “How about if you help with Simon’s quilt? You can use my needle and I’ll get another.”

  Shani listened as she pulled a square for Zane’s quilt from her bag.

  Trudy said, “My stitches are too big.”

  “No. They’re perfect. He’ll know you did them, and he’ll feel your love.”

  Trudy smiled a little and then said to Lila, “I miss Simon. And you.”

  Lila nodded. “I really will be home soon, and Simon will visit in May.”

  Shani focused on her piecing again. May. Hopefully at the same time Zane was home.

  “How’s Dat doing?” Lila asked.

  “Fine,” Trudy answered.

  “Beth has come by a few times,” Rose said, sitting down by Eve.

  “Who’s that?” Eve asked.

  “Trudy’s teacher,” Rose answered. “She has the hots for Dat.”

  “Rose!” Lila’s face grew red.

  “It’s true,” Rose said. “I can’t imagine why.”

  A smile passed over Eve’s lips. Shani couldn’t help but smile too. Maybe it wasn’t too late for Tim Lehman to find love.

  “Do you like her?” Shani asked Rose, as if she were conspiring with her.

  “If she can make breakfast and milk cows, I adore her.” Rose stood, stepped over to Lila’s sewing basket, pawed around for a moment, and then retrieved a needle. “Dat really does want you to come home,” Rose said to Lila. “He said Mammi should be doing all right by now.”

  Mammi nodded. “I am.” She rocked forward in her chair and leaned toward Lila. “I appreciate what you’ve done, but it sounds as if your family needs you.”

  Lila nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Shani wondered what would happen to the family when Lila and Reuben married. Perhaps instead of living in the house by the lumberyard they’d live in Tim’s house. Shani shuddered a little. She couldn’t imagine how hard that would be on the young couple. But that was from her Englisch perspective. Lots of young Amish couples lived with relatives and seemed to do fine.

  14

  The first Saturday of March, Lila stood in her upstairs room in her grandparents’ cottage and put Simon’s quilt into the box. She’d completed the stitching yesterday at the shop. There was no reason to stay any longer. Mammi would start chemo the next week, but Dawdi would take her to her treatments. Their church members would bring in meals, and with Lila taking two shifts a week at Thread by Thread, they would get by. She’d call her manager at the Plain Buffet and start picking up shifts there too. Tourist season would soon be gearing up, with weekend travelers and then a constant flow of visitors.

  She stepped to the window, looking over the chicken coop, garden, and large yard that belonged to Mammi and Dawdi. It was all so peaceful. No cows mooing to be milked. No siblings complaining. No father grumping around. Even though she’d been helping Mammi, it had been a restful time for her. Dawdi’s voice came up the stairs. “Lila! Reuben’s here.”

  She closed up the box and headed for the stairs. By the time she was halfway down, she could see Reuben at the bottom, smiling up at her. She was pleased to see him, but he still didn’t make her heart race.

  “Need any help?” he asked.

  “Everything else is by the door,” she said. “I just need to drop this by the shop for the UPS driver to pick up for Simon.”

  Mammi stood behind Reuben. “Dawdi and I will take it.” She held an envelope in one hand and a large plastic bag in the other. “A letter came for you from Simon.”

  Dawdi took the box from Lila, who took the envelope from her grandmother.

  “And I put a bunch of scraps together for you in this bag.” She lowered her voice. “You’re doing such a good job with your quilting that I thought you might want to do something more creative. Like a crazy quilt.”

  A customer who took classes from Mammi was making a crazy quilt, using velvets and other fancy fabrics and textured stitches, and Lila had commented on how nice it must be to work so creatively. “Thank you,” she said to her grandmother, taking the fabric from her and peeking into the bag. There were remnants of blue fabric from Zane’s quilt and the green and purple from Simon’s. There were more prints included too. All of it was fancier fabric than what she had at home.

  She wasn’t sure if she’d have time to work on the project, but she’d give it a try.

  She was ready to go, but then Mammi asked Reuben if he had time to stay for a cup of tea.

  “I’d like that,” he answered, as Dawdi put the kettle on.

  Lila put the bag down by the front door and sat at the kitchen table to read the letter. Simon only wrote two paragraphs, saying basic training was a “blast,” that he was “doing fine,” and that the Army was more than he hoped it would be.

  He asked how Mammi was doing and said that he hadn’t had time to get homesick, but he thought about everyone in the fifteen seconds it took before he fell asleep at night.

  “How’s he doing?” Reuben asked.

  “He sounds good,” Lila replied.

  “Jah,” Mammi said. “I received a letter too. I’d say he’s enjoying himself.”

  After they had their tea, Reuben carried Lila’s things out to his buggy as she told her grandparents good-bye, hugging them and thanking them.

  “No, thank you,” Mammi said.

  Lila shook her head. It was hard for her to explain, but staying with them had filled her up even though she was serving them. They loved her unconditionally, no matter how little or how hard she worked, something she didn’t often feel at home.

  Mammi hugged her again and then whispered in her ear, “I think Reuben is a fine young man. He’ll make a good husband.”

  Lila nodded, clutching the bag of fabric to her chest, as Reuben returned for her. She was certain her mother would agree.

  It was the first warm day of spring. Forsythia and daffodils were blooming, and tulips were beginning to poke up through the ground. Soon the countryside would be full of blossoms. She’d start the church membership class tomorrow, just like she’d told Dat she would. In another couple of months she’d be able to join. Sometime after that, she’d marry Reuben.

  She asked Reuben about his Dat and siblings. He said everyone was fine. She asked how the milking had been the last week.

  “Gut,” he said.

  He’d done so much for her. She thanked him again. Then they rode on in silence. She needed to talk, but perhaps that was what other women were for. She sighed.

  “Everything all right?” Reuben asked.

  She nodded. “I just sometimes wish—”

  He glanced at her.

  “—that we talked more.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “What our dreams are. How we feel about things.”

  “I’m feeling good,” Reuben said, turning his attention back to the road.

  She sighed again and then asked, “Could we stop by the library?” She had the Afghanistan book in the bottom of her bag to return—she’d renewed it once but wanted to return it before going home.

  “Sure,” he answered. When they reached the parking lot of the library, an Amish man a couple of years older than Reuben called out to him.

  “Go on in,” Reuben said.

  Lila quickly put the Afghani
stan book in with the returns and then wondered if she had time to send an e-mail. She could send one final message to Zane before she married Reuben, thanking him for his kind words on Christmas Eve. It would be her last correspondence ever with him.

  A computer was available, and she sat down and logged on. Her heart raced. She had an e-mail.

  Of course it was from Zane.

  She inhaled as she clicked on it. It was dated February 1, over four weeks ago.

  Dear Lila,

  It is cold and muddy here. Lots of rain. We can see the snow on the mountains from where we are. We will soon be going into valleys past those mountains to start our work.

  I think about your family and wonder how your grandmother is doing. How it will be for all of you when Simon leaves. I remember all of our afternoons playing down at our fort as the happiest in my life.

  Please e-mail me back when you can.

  Zane

  “Lila?” Reuben stood across the table from her. She closed her account without looking up. “Are you all right?”

  “Jah,” she answered. “I was just checking on something.”

  He gave her a puzzled look but then said, “I’m going to go look at the carpentry books.”

  “I’ll just be another minute,” she said, feeling guilty but quickly clicking back onto her e-mail account and Zane’s message anyway. She hit Print, logged off, grabbed the paper from the printer, and paid the librarian for the copy. As she strode toward the recipe books, she tucked his e-mail into the bottom of her bag.

  Reuben found her ten minutes later, skimming a book of chicken recipes.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and held up three books. “I just need to check these out.” She hoped the recipe books would inspire her to get back into cooking. She’d mostly made soups and stews at Mammi and Dawdi’s, along with muffins and scones and salads. Dat would never survive on meals like that.

  When the librarian handed her back the books, Lila slipped them into the bag on top of the paper, and Reuben reached to take the bag from her. For a moment she hesitated, fearing to have the e-mail from Zane out of her possession. She hadn’t done anything wrong, had she? When another puzzled expression spread over Reuben’s face, she gave in, realizing how ridiculous she was being. He wasn’t going to search her bag.