by Ruth Reid
“Jah, Iva and Fanny,” she mumbled.
Rachel finger-pleated the same fold in her dress over and over.
“I’m Jordan Engles.”
“Jah. I know about you.”
Since his mother died and he’d recently moved in with his Amish uncle, it seemed everyone in the community knew something about him, or more accurately, about his shunned mother.
“Here it is.” Rachel pointed to an average-sized farmhouse. The wide wooden porch wrapped around two sides and lanterns hung from the overhead roof beams. He pulled into the gravel drive and stopped Blaze near the smaller of the two barns.
“Denki.” Rachel jumped out of the buggy.
“Hey, where are you going?”
She spoke over her shoulder, “I have chores.”
He motioned to her horse. “You ran that mare. You cool her down and wipe off the lather.”
Without offering a rebuttal, she returned, reached for the leather strap, untied it, and led the mare toward the barn. Jordan watched her go, admiring her spunk. His adrenaline had relaxed, and now he could enjoy the humor of this slight girl having a road race on a busy highway.
A stream of buggies flowed down the driveway as the wedding guests began to arrive. Since coming to Mecosta County, Jordan had met only a handful of people. One buggy separated from the stream and pulled up beside his. He recognized the driver as a young man about his age named Timothy King.
Timothy hopped down, walked around the buggy, and helped his pregnant wife from her seat, tucking her hand underneath his crooked elbow.
He brought her up to Jordan and patted her hand. “Jordan, this is mei fraa, Sadie.”
Jordan touched the brim of his hat. “Hello.”
Sadie smiled and returned the greeting. At that moment the bride and another woman swept her away from Timothy. The three put their heads together and spoke some sort of secretive woman chatter as they moved toward the house.
“Sadie’s sisters?” Jordan asked.
Timothy grinned. “Jah. Those three are as thick as flies on a cow in summer.”
Jordan didn’t really know how to respond. He felt awkward in this group. He didn’t belong. Didn’t want to belong.
He didn’t know what else to do with himself, so he stood next to Timothy, who greeted the bearded men and introduced each one to Jordan in turn. Jordan shook hands and returned greetings, but all the bearded men blended together. Matthew Troyer bounded up to them, clapping Timothy on the back. He smiled at Jordan. “You are staying for the meal and the frolic tonight, jah?”
“The meal but not the frolic.” Jordan had done well to avoid the singings, frolics, and get-togethers that involved the pairing of unmarried couples. He gave the honest excuse that he had no intention of staying in the community.
A buggy moving much faster than the rest came down the lane and halted in the midst of the growing crowd. Micah Hartzler climbed out and searched the crowd. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he breathlessly addressed the small group of men standing before him. “Anyone seen Rachel? Her buggy is disabled on the side of the road.”
Jordan cleared his throat and raised his hand like he was in elementary school. “I gave her a ride. She’s in the barn tending the horse.” Heat crawled up his neck. Her father must not think much of him for letting a girl do the barn work while he socialized.
“She’s okay?” Micah’s heavy breathing slowed.
“The wheel’s in bad shape, but Rachel and the horse are fine.”
Micah visibly relaxed. “Gut.” He paused as though gathering his thoughts, then looked at Jordan. “Would you ride with me and lend a hand with changing the wheel?”
He hesitated briefly before answering. “Sure.” He didn’t want to be in the position of having to explain what had happened to the buggy. On the other hand, if her father knew, maybe he would prevent her from running that horse on a busy highway.
Rachel came out of the barn, her hands black from dirt and horse sweat. “Daed, I . . .” She paused, glanced at Jordan, then continued. “The buggy wheel’s damaged.”
“Jah, so I noticed. I’m going after it.”
She stepped forward. “Let me help.”
“No need.” Micah clapped Jordan’s shoulder. “I found me some strong hands, ain’t so?”
If Rachel could slip off to the barn without others noticing, she would spend the remainder of the night with the livestock. Horses don’t ask questions or hint about her approaching and passing the age for marriage and babies.
She finished drying the casserole dish and passed it to Aenti Leah on her right, then accepted the next rinsed one from Aenti Esther on her left. The rumble and laughter and rise and fall of voices in the other room continued.
Sadie reached for Fanny’s hand. “I’m going to miss you and Iva moving so far away.”
“You’ll have to help Rachel find a bu. Then we can make the trip home for her wedding.” Fanny handed Rachel a dry dish towel, relieving her of the soiled one. “Don’t make Iva and me wait too long.”
Rachel didn’t even look at her sister. She focused on the pan that didn’t have a drop of water left on it. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“If you’d prepare yourself to be a fraa, you wouldn’t have trouble finding a husband.” Mamm touched Rachel’s shoulder. “Preparations are a must.”
A must. Her mother failed to add cooking, sewing, and cleaning. All the areas Rachel fell short in perfecting. At least to Mamm’s specifications of what she deemed necessary to find a husband. So far, Mamm’s coaching had helped her three sisters.
“Perhaps I should be a teacher,” she said.
“Have you prayed about it?” Fanny asked, always the bossy older sister.
“Of course I have.” She really did want to seek God’s will in this. But she found it was hard to listen when she was still angry about James.
Katie Bender appeared with a stack of dirty plates and set them on the counter next to Aenti Esther. “I think this is the end of them.”
If Rachel’s brother, James, hadn’t died, Katie would be another sister. Now she avoided her late brother’s fiancée every chance she could. Although that was difficult. Except for intimate family gatherings, Rachel’s sisters still invited Katie to all the family events.
“Iva’s looking for you, Rachel,” Katie said. “I think her singing is getting ready to start.”
Rachel eyed Katie. Katie of all people knew why Rachel hadn’t attended the singings since her brother’s tragic death two years before. So why would she even ask, knowing it would bring up the painful past? “Nay, denki.” Her voice was curt and cutting.
Katie winced as the weighted words fell on her. “Okay,” she said, her voice tentative. She wiped her hands on a towel and left the kitchen.
Rachel bit back what she wanted to say. She wanted to lash out, reminding Katie that if she hadn’t insisted on looking for the angel at the river before the singing, James would still be alive. Instead, she sucked in a breath and did what she knew she had to do—apologize. Again.
Rachel followed Katie out of the room. “I’m sorry.”
Katie’s smile quivered. “I understand.”
Rachel paused, still working at keeping back the words she really wanted to say. She took a deep breath. “I should get back in there and redd-up.”
Rachel hoped to get everything cleaned up before the singing began. If she did, perhaps she’d have a chance to sneak off to the barn and hide there during the youths’ selection process. As she picked up a towel and stepped back to the spot she had left, the words of the other women washing, drying, and putting away moved around her without distracting Rachel’s turbulent thoughts.
Rachel’s hope for a fast and undetected disappearance vanished when Iva entered the kitchen. She could see the eagerness on her sister’s happy face. Soon it would be time for the elders and other married folks to leave so the unmarried youth and the newly married couple could begin their own festivities that would
continue well into the night.
“Can I steal Rachel away?” she said. “We want to start the selections.”
“Jah, geh with them,” Sadie said, nudging Rachel.
“Perhaps after the dishes.”
Rachel slowed her drying until Mamm reached for her towel. “Geh, have fellowship.”
Rachel leaned so her sister wouldn’t hear. “Nett for me, Mamm.”
“So you say. Geh nau. This is your sister’s wedding. And this is a part of finding a husband.”
Iva waited a moment and then moved through the door saying, “Hurry up.”
Her hands weren’t wet, but Rachel rubbed them on the front of her apron anyway. Perhaps the frolic would satisfy her family, and the remarks about her being unmarried would end. She hoped the guests would be gone before the embarrassing selections, and she could carry out her plan when she wasn’t chosen—like she had done when Sadie and Timothy married.
After practically being pushed out of the kitchen, Rachel meandered down the hall. Inside the room where the girls would wait, the chatter was already under way. Soon the boys, sent one by one from the barn, would choose a girl. After the pairing, the singing would start in the kitchen. Rachel moved toward the window and stood beside her friend Naomi.
“I keep looking for William,” Naomi said, peering out the window.
Rachel watched the people leaving. Her aentis left together, her sisters not too far behind them. Timothy and Jordan stood next to the barn.
The barn door opened and the first boy headed to the house.
“That’s William.” Naomi tugged Rachel’s arm. “Ach, do you think he’ll pick me?”
Rachel smiled. “Jah, he’s smitten with you.”
Naomi squirmed in nervousness until William stood at the bedroom door, asking for her. Naomi clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a squeal. Then she stood, gathered herself together, and walked out of the room almost composed.
Rachel turned her attention back to Jordan and Timothy outside the window. Whatever Timothy had to say, Jordan kept shaking his head. Their conversation seemed to get a little more animated as it continued.
“Please don’t be sad,” Iva said, breaking into her focus.
Unsure whom Iva was talking to, Rachel looked away from the window. Only she and her sister remained in the room. Closing herself off from the muffled commotion, she hadn’t paid attention to the thinning number of girls in the room. Not that this was a surprise. Rachel expected this to happen. She wasn’t ever chosen.
“I’ll go upstairs. I’m tired anyway.”
Iva reached for her. “Nay. I want you to—”
Heavy footsteps thudded down the hall and stopped in front of the room.
After a soft tap on the door, her sister opened it just enough to peek out at the caller.
“I . . . ah . . .”
The male voice on the other side of the door sounded indecisive. The back of Rachel’s neck prickled with sweat. Why had she agreed to participate in pairing up for the singing? She imagined the night couldn’t get much worse.
“Rachel is waiting.” Iva flung the door wide open, revealing the young man who had requested her. “I’ll meet you two in the kitchen,” her sister said, bouncing out of the room.
“Ach!” Rachel said. She stiffened.
“Yeah. So you say.” Jordan’s eyes traveled over her like he was inspecting a horse at auction. “Timothy insisted I stay. He said there was one odd girl . . . I didn’t know it was you.”
Chapter Two
Rachel squared her shoulders after Jordan’s statement stole the air from her lungs. “Timothy called me an odd girl?” How awful to learn that her brother-in-law referred to her in that manner. She’d grown up with Timothy and had always admired him even before he and Sadie married.
Jordan put his hand up. “No, no. I said it wrong. He meant there was an uneven number of girls.” He shifted—with discomfort or annoyance, she couldn’t tell. “Are you coming?”
She couldn’t gather enough wits to move before he rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. “Look, I don’t usually attend your . . . frolics, but—”
“You don’t have to tonight. Nett for me.”
He didn’t move, but a glint of mischief flickered in his eyes.
“Don’t get all ruffled. I gave Timothy my word.” He held on to the door frame and stretched to look down the hallway. “I think they’re waiting for us before they start.”
She eyed him closely. The cotton material of his black vest strained at the seams. With his broad chest, he could use a larger size. With thick wavy hair, he certainly wasn’t bad-looking.
She quickly reminded herself that he hadn’t truly selected her. No one had. But standing vulnerable in front of him wasn’t the time for self-pity.
“What did you tell mei daed about the buggy wheel?”
A grin split his face.
Unable to bear his mirth, she pulled at a loose thread on her dress sleeve.
“I told him the truth.”
She closed her eyes. How would she explain racing Ginger? Her father had only recently given her the horse and she had come with strict rules. She couldn’t drive at night. She couldn’t go into town. Now she wouldn’t be allowed to take the horse on the highway.
“I’m nett feeling gut.” She headed for the staircase—the opposite direction from where the youth had gathered. “Tell Iva, will you?” Lowering her head, she started up the steps.
Jordan cleared his throat.
When she turned, he stood with one foot on the landing and the other on the first step, peering up at her.
“I told him a truck startled the horse . . . and you were a good handler.”
His words warmed her like sweet rolls from the oven. Yet she contained her relief behind her masked expression. “Denki.”
He took another step closer. “I should have told him you were racing that horse over patches of black ice.”
With him standing on the step below her, she only had to tilt her head slightly to be eye to eye with him. “There’s Borium on Ginger’s shoes for traction.”
“Smart girl.” He turned. “But narrisch,” he mumbled under his breath.
Crazy? She followed him down the steps. “Do you know what you just called me?”
“My mother was Amish. Some words you never forget.” He crossed his arms. “Yes. You acted crazy.”
“The ice had melted.”
“The road was still dangerous.” He began to move toward the kitchen. “They’re ready to start. Are you coming?”
“I don’t want to join in. You already said you don’t either.”
He nodded, relief lightening his expression.
“Gut nacht then.” Rachel continued her ascent, carrying the awful truth with her. Jordan had only made an agreement with her brother-in-law. He had not come of his own wishes.
When she reached her room, she crossed it to gaze out the window. Laughter filtered up from the kitchen. Then the singing started.
She didn’t regret her decision not to join the youth activities. The evening wouldn’t end until almost midnight, and tomorrow there would be plenty of cleaning chores.
Still, since the singing frolic was at her house, it made it impossible to avoid the activity without looking like she was sulking. She should’ve followed her original plan and hidden in the barn.
Nathaniel extended his wings and drew closer to Rachel. “Child, the Father loves you. Do not be dismayed. He has a plan, a good plan for you. Do not lose heart.”
Rachel touched the strings of her prayer kapp. Earlier, when the buggy bounced off the road and she came off her seat, she was certain something stopped her from flying out. She closed her eyes. “Denki, God, for your protection.”
“God cares a great deal about you. That’s why He sent me to protect you,” Nathaniel whispered.
Jordan fed the leather harness strap through the buckle. He’d stayed at the Hartzlers’ longer than he wanted, but at least
he got out of accompanying Rachel to the singing.
“What happened?” Timothy ambled toward Jordan’s buggy. “I thought you said you would stay for the singing.”
“Rachel refused.” Jordan shrugged. “She might still be upset about the buggy accident.”
Timothy rocked back on his heels. “Probably racing again.”
Jordan laughed. “She won.”
“You take losing better than most.” Timothy wagged his head. “Micah should’ve never given her that horse.”
Although Jordan agreed, he held his comment. The girl had been reckless. During the time he spent working with harness racehorses, he witnessed plenty of accidents. Today’s incident should’ve shaken her to the core. He wasn’t so sure it had. She certainly defended her driving and denied the hazardous road conditions. Rachel’s only concern was that her father would find out, not that she gambled losing her life.
“Gambling will destroy everything you love,” his mother had said over and over until he grew sick of hearing it. Now he wished he could say it as a warning to this girl. But he hadn’t earned the right. What worried him was that with the competitive streak he saw in her, he knew she would race again.
“Here comes Micah,” Jordan said in a low voice. “Don’t say anything about Rachel racing.”
Timothy chuckled. “Getting beaten by a girl is bothering you nau, ain’t so?”
“Something like that.” Jordan unhitched Blaze from the post and swung himself onto the buggy seat.
“I should find my fraa and head home,” Timothy said.
Micah waved to Timothy but stopped at Jordan’s buggy. “Denki for helping me with mei daughter’s buggy.”
“Glad to help.” Jordan gathered the reins, eager to get going.
“I’m planning to clear an additional field for planting. Your onkel Isaac mentioned you’re looking for work.”
“I will be.” His uncle lived on the opposite side of the district, a two-hour drive by buggy, but Jordan needed the work. “I’ll be done with my current job in a couple days. After that I would like to come.”