Harvest of Hearts
Page 15
“Danki.”
“Bitte. Shall we?” He nodded toward the house. “I’m actually not sure who Miriam Shultz is. I’m new, you know.”
Shanna shrugged. “She’s a few years younger than I am. If Joseph has his way, I’m guessing she’ll eventually be a member of our family.”
Matthew smiled and resisted the urge to run his fingers over the curve of her cheek. “It seems so.” He wanted the same thing for himself, someday.
They walked toward the house. Several people called out a greeting to Matthew, who waved in return. A few said something to Shanna, but to Matthew it seemed that most of them eyed her with distrust, whispering to each other behind their hands. Perhaps they were curious as to why a girl who had jumped the fence would dare to show her face at a frolic.
Shanna grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. “I changed my mind. Let’s take a walk with your friends.”
She must have noticed the looks and whispers, too. Plus, she probably recalled her mamm telling her that she was the latest topic of gossip around here.
Matthew draped his arm over her shoulders, giving her a too-brief hug. “Hold your head up high. Don’t let them know that it bothers you.”
She looked around, then stopped and stepped out of his embrace. “I ran away from home. Did my parents tell you?” she blurted out. “Daed and I had a huge fight, and that nacht, I went to a frolic like this one, only a little wilder. It was in the Lapps’ back field. Some Englisch guys were there, drinking and such. I’d earned my GED and been accepted into college, but I didn’t know how I’d get there without attracting attention. So, I climbed in the backseat of a car. When the driver eventually got in and left, I left with him. I don’t think he ever knew I was there.”
Matthew’s jaw dropped. “Seriously, Shanna?” Did she have any idea how dangerous that stunt had been?
“How else would I have left? Do you think Daed would have called a driver for me? The only way I could get out of here was to stow away.”
“You must have been pretty desperate.” He steered them away from the young people gathered around the barn and a bonfire on the side of the property, then led her out to the fields beyond.
“Jah. Jah, I guess I was.”
“Why, Shanna? Why were you so anxious to leave?” He wanted to argue the benefits of being part of the Amish community, but he didn’t. He probably shouldn’t have bothered asking her why she’d left.
“I wanted to be a nurse,” she stated.
Her voice was firm. Unapologetic. Slightly defensive.
Matthew nodded. “You’ve said that. But why is being a nurse so important to you?” Again, he was tempted to state his case for remaining Amish, but he kept quiet.
“Ach, it’s a long story. The short version is that my cousin Rachel was pregnant, and she started having problems. Mamm sent me over to be their maud because the doctor had put Rachel on bed rest. And, well, I probably shouldn’t say any more because it’d be inappropriate, but Rachel started having more problems, and they say I saved her life and the boppli’s, too. I didn’t know what I was doing; I just got lucky. The bishop said I had a gift. I wondered what kind of gift I could have if I actually had some training. Daed told me I didn’t need it. He told me that it wasn’t luck but God who had saved Rachel and the boppli, and that my desire for schooling stemmed from pride.” Shanna shook her head. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this.”
“The bishop said you had a gift….” Matthew studied her profile. “What do you think he was referring to?” He had his suspicions but wondered if she had reached the same conclusion.
Shanna shrugged. “Medicine?”
“Maybe midwifery?” Matthew suggested.
“Ach, that is so funny. I got my training in obstetrics.”
Matthew stopped walking. She moved a step or two beyond him, then turned back. “Was ist letz?”
“Shanna, think about it.” He reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her toward him. She didn’t resist. He thought she would have stepped into his arms, if he’d let her. “What do nurses trained in obstetrics do?”
“Assist with labor and delivery.”
He raised his hand to cup her cheek. “And what do Amish women do best?”
She laughed. “Have boppli?” Then her smile faded. “What are you saying?”
“Kum home, Shanna. Kum home and be a midwife. The only midwife in this entire district is an Englisch woman who lives over an hour away. It would be such a blessing to all the families to have a local Amish midwife, ain’t so?”
Her brow furrowed. “Ach.”
He waited a beat. Two. Three. She didn’t say anything else. That was it? Just “Ach”?
He’d hoped for a more enthusiastic response. Maybe a promise to think about coming home to work as a midwife. A promise to at least consider marrying him someday.
Though that probably would be a bit premature.
He dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back.
He’d dangled the bait. Whether she decided to nibble would be anybody’s guess.
Chapter 17
Could she return home as a midwife? Did she even want to? The implications of Matthew’s suggestion swirled in her mind like a dust storm. A midwife. This needed serious thought.
Shanna turned away from Matthew and strode several yards away across the uneven ground of the field, careful to avoid the fledgling plants growing out of the furrowed earth. If the bishop sanctioned it and the community accepted her, she certainly could come back to be a midwife. At this moment, the thought seemed highly desirable. To be a part of the people. Welcomed. To marry and raise a family and still have the education she’d sacrificed everything for.
Marriage to Matthew might be in the mix, although he’d never actually proposed. Any mention of the possibility had been more in the form of a decree: “You’re going to marry me.” “You’re going to return to the Amish.” Did he think he was a prophet? Perhaps it was selfish, but she wanted a proposal. Maybe not one like her friend had, with dinner and opera tickets and a carriage ride, but a nice, romantic…something…that she could think back on and catch a thrill over when her marriage settled into the humdrum of normal, everyday life after the honeymoon period ended.
But joining the church would mean returning to so many things that she couldn’t wait to be permanently free from. What if she didn’t want to return?
Living in the same area as Daed…could she handle that?
Although the Daed she’d lived with for the past week seemed to have softened up some. He had said a couple of nice things about her. He’d allowed her to stay—for the summer. She hadn’t really expected that. And he hadn’t complained about the kittens she’d brought home.
But he’d called her a stray.
And they continued to get on each other’s last nerve.
She and Daed would never get along. Not even with Matthew trying to push them together. Just like he was trying to rearrange the rest of her life. Maybe she’d like to make a few plans for herself instead of falling into his neatly organized blueprint.
“Shanna?” Matthew’s whisper broke into her thoughts. “What are you thinking?” His voice held an ache, a hurt, but she didn’t know why and didn’t want to pursue it. At least, not right now. Maybe later. But it didn’t excuse him for trying to take over her life.
“How dare you?” She spun around to face him. He still stood right where she’d left him, pain etching his face. The distance that separated them seemed a tangible thing. “This is my life. Mine. And if I’d wanted to be here, I never would have run away. You have nein right to tell me to kum home.”
An expression crossed his face, but it was gone before she could identify what emotion it revealed. A muscle bunched in his neck, and he frowned. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nein right!”
“Nein, I don’t. It won’t happen again.” Distaste flickered in his eyes, the only ind
ication that he regretted the words, even as he spoke them. Or was it that he found her distasteful?
Why had he acquiesced so quickly? Just as he’d done when she’d ended their relationship. It didn’t seem right. But she didn’t want to pursue that, either.
“You bet it won’t. Just go, Matthew. Leave me alone.”
He stood there another minute. Silent. Then, he sighed. “I want to be your friend, Shanna.”
“Then, don’t interfere in my life.”
His frown deepened, and he nodded. “I suppose I need to say something to the birthday girl. Are you coming?”
“Nein. I’ll be there later.”
“Right. You’ll find me playing volleyball, if you care to.”
And if she didn’t? She didn’t say that, though. She’d hurt him enough, judging by the slump of his shoulders as he turned away. Guilt gnawed at her. She should apologize. Should do something to make it right.
She’d probably killed any remnant of love he might have been feeling for her. But that was as it should be. He and she were a combination that never was meant to be. As much as that realization hurt.
Amish and Englisch were not meant to mix.
She wanted to collapse into the dirt and sob.
Instead, she watched through a blur of tears as he disappeared around the barn. Then, she turned and walked off. Alone. Where she was going, she didn’t know.
***
Her life was her own. Matthew knew that. But her choices would affect everything. Especially his heart. He wished she could see how much. Her behavior was selfish—not seeking to serve God and others first. But she had the right to choose what she wanted; he couldn’t deny that. And if she wanted her Englisch world and not him….
Matthew had stalked off, leaving Shanna alone to think, though he’d wanted to stay and talk. To encourage her to return when she’d completed her schooling, to work and serve the people, to make her home with him. As his frau.
God, do the talking for me. Help her to see.
Activity flooded the barnyard. The big sliding doors stood open, and hay bales were scattered around. Some buwe took turns swinging from a rope that hung from a high rafter and jumping into a pile of hay. Matthew had never cared for that activity, not since a childhood friend had missed the hay and fallen to his death.
Matthew moved on and eventually found Miriam Shultz sitting on the porch, surrounded by a group of friends. Joseph wasn’t there; he might have joined in a game of volleyball or football. Or maybe he was in the group of buwe standing around the campfire, roasting hotdogs on sticks. It was hard to tell in the gathering dusk.
Matthew looked at Miriam. The strings of her white kapp dangled behind her head, and her dress was a kind of dusky orange. She wore tennis shoes over her black stockings. “Happy birthday,” he said.
She giggled and then nudged the girl seated beside her, who started snickering, too.
He had no use for giggly girls. He turned and opened the cooler on the ground nearby. Rather than taking the time to choose a particular flavor, he grabbed the first can his fingers closed around. When he lifted it out, he saw that it was root beer. Good enough. He’d never had this particular brand, but suddenly he wanted a root beer float. It sounded tasty.
Would Shanna want a soda? He hesitated, then reached back inside the cooler and took another can. Same kind.
Had she had enough time to think? Maybe he should go after her, offer her the drink, and talk her into coming back to roast hotdogs with him.
He walked around the barn and into the fields but saw no sign of her. She’d disappeared.
Perhaps she’d returned to the frolic, and he’d missed her. He hadn’t looked for her there, figuring she’d be where he’d left her.
Silly of him.
He returned to the area in back of the house. A few girls played football in the field, but none of them was dressed in the shade of blue that Shanna wore that evening. The volleyball game was in full swing. Matthew stopped to watch for a while. No sign of Shanna there, either.
Sighing, he glanced at the faces of the people standing around the fire.
Still no Shanna.
Disappointment and hurt that she would leave without telling him weighed heavily on his heart. And he felt the nagging fear that she’d accepted a ride from another bu at the frolic. It was possible she’d gone on a walk with someone else. Probably what had happened.
She was beautiful. Buwe would notice her. And, since she wore an Amish dress, no one would know that she’d jumped the fence unless he recognized her. But the Shultz farm was teeming with young people from several different districts, so there were probably plenty of buwe who didn’t know her.
That might explain everything. He’d have to be careful not to let his jealousy show. After all, he didn’t own her.
His spirits plummeting, he set one can on the ground, opened the other, and took a long swig. Then, he set that down, too, and merged into the volleyball game. He’d told her where he’d be. Maybe she’d come find him.
***
At the end of the driveway, Shanna stepped out onto the road, then hesitated. Where was she? She looked around and recognized the Kropf farm ahead. The clothes she’d washed still hung on the line, and she didn’t see any sign of the family.
She hadn’t intended to come out here—at least, not consciously. She glanced back in the direction of the Shultz farm and heard the faint sounds of laughter. She wasn’t ready to go back there yet. She wanted to think about what Matthew’s suggestion would entail, and whether she could even consider following through with it.
The way her eyes were watering, she probably needed a good cry, too, but she’d rather that happen without anyone to witness her humiliation. She preferred people seeing her happy. Not moping and sad. She shouldn’t have agreed to attend the frolic. Not in her current mood, anyway.
Her day was messed up beyond belief. It had started off great, with the flirting, which had actually been wonderful, and then the kiss, which had been beyond amazing. But it had gone swiftly downhill from there. She still struggled to find her footing on the uneven road, and, she supposed, in relation to Matthew.
If only someone would make all her decisions for her. She closed her eyes. For a moment, she was tempted to pray, to ask God for His guidance, but she squashed the urge. Back at school, she’d attended church on occasion so she could tell Mamm that, jah, she’d found a good church. But it was extremely liberal compared to her Old Order Amish upbringing. The parishioners lived like the rest of the world; they drove cars, talked on cell phones, used computers, and wore blue jeans. And it wasn’t a big deal to them whether you came every Sunday or not. Shanna hadn’t told Mamm about any of that, though.
The Lord had turned into the God of her father, and since she didn’t get along well with Daed, she had every reason to believe that God was out to beat her down, too. What did He care about her?
The last time she’d prayed? Possibly the day she’d come home. But, nein. She’d merely tried then.
Or maybe it had been this very morning, when Matthew had pressed her head into a bowing position. Had she actually prayed then? Other than to ask God to give her Matthew?
He probably shouldn’t have granted that request.
She sighed. Will the real Shanna Stoltzfus please stand up?
Life seemed infinitely less confusing in the fancy world. She attended school, worked at her job, studied, and hung out with her friends. There was none of this “You’re going to marry me” business. No one telling her, “You’re going to return to the Amish.” And definitely none of this “Kum home, Shanna, and be a midwife” stuff.
She’d sacrificed everything to follow her dreams. It wasn’t fair to expect her to come home before she’d fulfilled them. It wasn’t fair to—
A horse whinnied, and she opened her eyes, disoriented. Where was she? She looked around. Ach, at the Kropf farm. Still no sign of anyone. She turned to head back to the frolic, but the clothes on the line caug
ht her attention again. It wouldn’t take but a moment to fold them and place the basket by the front door.
As she approached the clothesline, she saw that the wringer washer still sat on the lawn where Amos had set it. She’d hated it, but she’d handled it okay. She fingered a shirt hanging on the line. Dry. She unpinned it, folded it, and dropped it into the plastic basket on the ground.
“You came back.” The gravelly voice came from behind her.
Shanna gasped but didn’t turn around. She knew it was Amos. “I hate to leave a job unfinished.” That was a lie. But what else could she say? That she’d rather fold laundry than attend a frolic?