Amish Sweethearts

by Leslie Gould

  She turned down the lane, the hazard lights following right behind her, casting a red flashing glow in the buggy. She glanced at Rose, who had a pout on her face. Her sister would be married in no time. With her dark hair, brown eyes, and dimples, she was the prettiest girl in the district. And she was fun in a way Lila had never been and never would be. True, Rose could be lazy and annoying, but she stepped up to work when she had to. And she could also be the life of the party, joking with others and pulling the quietest of people into a conversation.

  As they turned down their driveway, Lila said, “Put the horse away. If Dat’s still up and asks where I am, tell the truth. Say that Zane wanted to talk with me. I’ll deal with Dat in the morning.”

  Rose made a disgusted face. “You didn’t expect me to lie for you, did you?”

  “Of course not. I just told you . . .”

  “Because I’m not going to rescue you from your own bad choices.”

  Lila bit her tongue as she turned the horse into the shed. Jah, the life of the party, and the most dramatic sixteen-year-old around.

  Ten minutes later she sat in Zane’s pickup under the willow tree, off the highway. He’d left the engine running and by the light of the dashboard he spilled his heart, telling her about the e-mails from his sergeant. Then he said he couldn’t go back to Afghanistan.

  As he finished, he checked his phone. “I have another e-mail from Sarge. He already booked a ticket for me. Wednesday evening, out of Philly. I have four days to figure this out.”

  Lila shivered. “What are you going to do?”

  He turned in the seat toward her and took her hand. She leaned toward him. “I’ve been thinking about the Amish settlements in Canada.”

  “In Ontario?”

  Zane nodded.

  That was just over the border from New York.

  “Will you marry me, Lila?” He tightened his grip on her hand.

  “I can’t leave the church.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” he said.

  “You would become Amish?”

  He nodded again. “Once we reach an Amish community in Ontario we can make a life together.”

  Her voice caught in her throat. “When would we leave?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Zane,” she whispered. Tomorrow? She’d need to decide tonight.

  “Otherwise I have to report back to duty. I’ll be going AWOL, but I should be safe in Canada, especially if we’re part of a Plain community.” He inhaled. “What kind of ID do you have?”

  “I got a passport card a few years ago,” Lila said. “Instead of an ID card.” Gideon had recommended it to the youth, saying it would be all they’d ever need for identification. She met his gaze. “Will you ever be able to come back home?’”

  “Not for a while but Mom would come visit, with Adam at least.” His eyes watered. “And you would be able to see your family whenever you want. I’d make it a priority.”

  Lila’s heart raced.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he said. “And it’s sooner than we planned.” A wry smile passed over his face. “Or didn’t plan. But I want to be your husband, Lila, more than anything.”

  “Jah.” She nodded. She believed that with her whole heart. “But I didn’t think you wanted to be Amish.”

  “I do,” he answered. “I’ve been thinking about pacifism and nonresistance for years now. I even considered it three years ago, before I joined the Army.”

  Lila’s heart began to ache.

  “I don’t want to raise children in the Englisch world. I did think Mennonite would be best, but I’m willing to be Amish. Now more than ever.”

  “What about—” She couldn’t manage to say “our children.” “What about the issue of education?” That had always been Zane’s biggest criticism of her church, that one’s formal education ended in the eighth grade.

  “We could homeschool after the eighth grade, don’t you think? Or encourage correspondence courses? And I’ll do the same, for myself—and you can too if you want.”

  Lila’s heart raced faster. Could she really leave home and her community, just like that?

  “We can’t say anything to anyone though,” Zane said. “I don’t want my dad coming after me. That would be awful. We can call once we’re in Canada and let our parents know.”

  Lila couldn’t imagine that. Dat listening to her voice on the answering machine, saying she’d fled to Canada with Zane. That they were getting married. It was nearly as heartbreaking as the thought of Joel listening to a message from Zane saying he’d deserted.

  Lila shivered. She knew the Army wasn’t a good fit for Zane, but she never guessed he’d desert. She couldn’t imagine the fear he must be feeling. “I don’t know what to say, Zane. I have to think about it.”

  “Of course.”

  “What time would we leave in the morning?”

  “Are you helping with the milking?”

  She nodded.

  “How about if I come over and spell you? I’ll just show up and offer my help. Let me know then—give me a thumbs-up when your Dat isn’t looking. If that’s the case, then I’ll drive down the lane at nine a.m. Meet me at the end of your drive. Just bring a small bag.”

  “And what if I decide not to go?”

  He paused. “I don’t know.”

  “Will you go on your own?”

  He started to smile but then stopped. “Then I’d be in Canada and you’d be down here.”

  “But if you don’t go, then you’ll be farther away, in Afghanistan.”

  “Either there or a military prison,” Zane answered.

  “You can’t go to prison.” She squeezed his hand.

  Zane leaned closer. “I love you, Lila Lehman.”

  She turned her face toward his. She loved him too—she just couldn’t say it. Not yet.

  For a moment she thought he might kiss her, but then he said, “I’d better get you home.”

  The next morning was cold and frosty. Even in the barn Lila could see her breath. She shoveled grain into the trough, and soon the bodies and breath of the cows warmed the air. It wasn’t long until Zane called out a hello, to her relief.

  Dat smiled and motioned him into the barn.

  “I woke up early,” Zane said. “Need some help?”

  “Lila’s here,” Dat said, glancing her way.

  “But she probably has enough work in the house to keep her busy.” Dat turned toward her. “Do you want Zane to help this morning?”

  “Sure,” she answered, making her way around the trough. She leaned the shovel against the grain chute. Dat headed down the line of cows to the first one, and as Lila passed Zane he held his thumb up.

  She returned the gesture.

  He smiled and whispered, “Mission’s on.”

  Three hours later, after returning from delivering Trudy to school, Lila headed down to the basement to check on Rose.

  She was pulling a towel through the wringer. “You can pin the first load on the line.”

  Lila almost answered that Rose would need to do it, but if her sister dawdled she’d be outside when Zane came by. Lila had told Rose she had a driver coming to run some errands, and she needed to buy some time. At least Dat had gone to the lumberyard to work so she didn’t need to worry about him, but she didn’t want Rose to see her leave with Zane and call Dat. Lila grabbed the basket and headed up the stairs. She’d packed a small bag last night after Rose and Trudy were asleep and slipped it under her bed. She’d stuffed her nearly finished crazy quilt topper in too—she still had some stitching left to do, and then she’d need to quilt it.

  Tears stung her eyes as she pulled her heavy coat from the hook and headed out the back door. Jah, the day was cold, but that wasn’t what was making her cry. She’d walked Trudy to the door of the school and gave her an extra hug, but she’d avoided seeing Beth, afraid of her sensing something was wrong.

  She quickly pinned the towels on the line and then hurried back into the house. She on
ly had a few minutes until Zane arrived. She returned the basket to the basement, where Rose was wringing the next load. Guilt and sadness swept over Lila. “You’re doing a good job,” she said to her sister.

  Rose didn’t seem surprised by the compliment but simply nodded in agreement.

  Lila hurried upstairs, afraid she might cry again, and grabbed her bag. Although her sister annoyed her, she would still miss her.

  By the time she made it to the end of the driveway, Zane was waiting. She climbed into his truck and buckled her seat belt.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as he accelerated.

  She nodded, but she wasn’t. “How about you?”

  He glanced at her. “I guess as well as can be expected.”

  “Jah,” she said.

  Zane turned right onto the highway. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “Does your mom work today?”

  Zane shook his head.

  “Was she home when you left?”

  “No. She’s running errands.”

  “Won’t she wonder where you are when she gets home?”

  “I told her I was hanging out with a friend today.”

  They rode along in silence. She suspected they were both troubled. She knew she was. None of this felt right. Staying wouldn’t have. Leaving didn’t. But Zane going back to Afghanistan or prison certainly didn’t either.

  Yet she couldn’t help but wonder what he might regret later. And what she might regret too.

  Zane turned left on Highway 30 toward Lancaster. As the sunlight grew stronger, the red and orange leaves on the trees glowed against the blue sky. Lila settled back against the seat. The warm air from the heater swirled around her legs. He’d have to sell his truck once they were in Canada. She didn’t know much about the settlements in Ontario except that they drove buggies without tops, which probably meant they were more conservative in other ways too. She might be seen as a spoiled Pennsylvania Amish girl, and Zane might be considered suspicious. Might? Of course he would. He’d be seen as suspicious in any Amish community, except her own, and that was because Gideon had known Zane since he was a boy.

  They chatted some about what they saw along the way. Zane detoured through Harrisburg so she could see the Capitol building, along the Susquehanna River. On any other day, she would have been taken by the architecture and full of questions about when it was built and the history of the building. But today she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the journey ahead of them.

  When would Rose and then Dat realize she wasn’t coming home? What would they say to Trudy? She’d leave a message on the machine in the barn once she and Zane were in Canada, but she hated to think of them worrying before then.

  They stopped for lunch in Williamsport and then continued on, crossing into New York.

  “What’s it like for deserters in Canada?” Lila asked.

  “Most are caught in an appeal process to return them to the States,” Zane said. “I’m hoping as part of an Amish community, I’ll fly under the radar. We won’t have to sign up for national health care or any of that, so maybe it won’t be that big of a deal.”

  “You’ll have to take classes before you can join the church,” Lila said. “It could take a while.”

  He nodded. “Hopefully they’ll accept us though, help us find individual places to live and jobs until we can marry.”

  She hadn’t had time to think this through like she should have. They would arrive as an unmarried Amish woman and an Englisch man. A deserter from the U.S. Army. She couldn’t see any way they could marry before Zane joined the church. And after, they might never be in good standing with an Amish community unfamiliar with them, one in which they were strangers.

  “As far as the government of Canada, if they go after me, it could be a problem,” Zane said. “I came across an article last night about a Marine who fled to Canada a couple of years ago who is now at risk of being deported. I’ve read before that the prime minister isn’t sympathetic to U.S. soldiers who go AWOL.”

  “Does that worry you?” she asked.

  “Some. But if I got deported, it’s not like I’d be shot. They haven’t done that since World War II.”

  “But you would still go to prison.”

  “It’s worth the risk,” Zane said. He glanced toward her, his eyes heavy. “Going back to Afghanistan would be easier than leaving our families—if I knew I wouldn’t have to shoot someone again.”

  She nodded. “But there’s no guarantee.”

  “I think this is the moral thing to do. But so would be keeping my commitment to the Army.” He sighed.

  She could see he was conflicted. He’d slowed down. She glanced at the speedometer. He was going fifty. A semi behind them honked and then passed. Zane slowed even more as they drove past a sign with information about the border crossing—even though they were still a couple hours away.

  After a long pause, he asked, “How do we know the right thing to do?”

  “I’m not sure,” she answered. Breaking up with Reuben certainly had been full of conflicting feelings, but in the end she’d known it was right.

  Zane shook his head. “I feel paralyzed,” he said.

  She understood. She felt the same way. The comfort of “Be still, and know that I am God” running through her head seemed so long ago. Her heart didn’t feel still. And she was certain Zane’s didn’t either.

  As he kept driving, she started praying, silently. She had just over two hours to figure out what God would have her do.

  When they neared Niagara Falls, Zane pulled into the Visitor Center parking lot and they climbed out. The view was as magnificent as the photos Lila had seen. The cold mist from the spray blew up into her face. Zane stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, tucking her head against his chest and under his chin. It felt so right to be with him—but she still felt unsettled. They belonged on Juneberry Lane.

  Three years ago, she had convinced him to leave her. Maybe this time she could convince him to go back.

  “I’m sorry for getting you into this,” he said, competing with the roar of the falls. It sounded like a whisper, but she knew it wasn’t.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said.

  “I never should have joined the Army.”

  “I never should have told you to leave.” There was no undoing what they’d both done. “It won’t do any good for us to be sorry now.”

  She’d been too young then to think about allowing herself to love someone who wasn’t Amish, and he’d been too rash. They’d both learned a lot—and she guessed the learning wasn’t done yet. “I believe it will all work out,” she said. “But I don’t know that going to Canada is what we should do.”

  “I was afraid you’d change your mind.” He let go of her, and she turned toward him.

  “I haven’t changed my mind about loving you or wanting to be your wife. I just don’t think running away is the right thing to do.” She touched his face. “I think there are things you need to deal with. Like your commitment to the Army. And your relationship with your dad.”

  He swallowed hard but didn’t respond.

  “And I think there are things I need to take care of too. Like my issues with my own father. And why I was so eager to come with you, to help you, without thinking it all through.”

  “Lila, don’t.”

  “No. Whether we marry or not, I need to stand up for what I believe in. I want to be with you, but I don’t want you to get deported from Canada to a military prison. You could lose years of your life when you only have eight months until you’re done with your duty.”

  “Three of them in Afghanistan.”

  “We should trust God with this. We both have to find our own peace.”

  “The Amish girl is telling me to go back to war to find my peace?”

  “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Zane. You get to decide. I’ll support you either way.”

  He took a step away from her. “I
can’t go back to Afghanistan. I’m going to Ontario.”

  “All right,” she said.

  “What are you going to do?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll go with you.” She couldn’t bear the thought of him going alone, despite her angst. As they turned back toward the parking lot she said, “You might as well call your parents from here.”

  He dug his phone from his pocket, and once they reached the pickup, he placed the call.

  Zane said hello and then, “I’m with Lila. We’re at Niagara Falls, headed to Ontario.”

  There was a long pause. Then Zane shook his head and said to Lila, “Mom went to get Dad.”

  When his dad came on the phone, Zane said hello but that was all. Finally Zane put his phone on speaker.

  Joel’s voice was calm, but he was talking a mile a minute. “. . . think all war is wrong? World War II?”

  “No,” Zane answered.

  “You’re not a pacifist, then. Or a conscientious objector. Soldiers don’t have the luxury of choosing which wars they fight in. You signed up for this on your own. No one forced you.”

  “I know, but I can’t go back.”

  “Did you talk to your sergeant about a desk job in Afghanistan? About not going into the field.”

  “I don’t have a choice. The translator is being sent home, and they need me.”

  “Chances are you won’t have to shoot someone again.”

  “But there’s the possibility—and there’s more fighting going on even than when I left. I’d be a danger to my team.” And to himself.

  Lila put her face in her hands.

  Joel kept talking. “I don’t think you could ever be nonresistant. Not really.”