Nevertheless, he’d begun making all the necessary relocation preparations, and he already had two prospective buyers who were very interested in the house and farm. As for employment in Indiana, he planned to take a job in an RV factory or work construction again. But first things first: Levi had to make it through Christmas season. After seven years, the trees were finally ready to harvest. If all went well and sales were what he expected them to be, Levi would have enough money to repay the loan on the land he and Leora had bought back when they were young newlyweds in love and thought they had their entire lives together spread out before them.
“Jah.” Levi finally answered his daughter’s question, but he could have been talking to himself. “It’s better not to be reminded of things that make us sad. If we open the windows, the scent of the trees will waft inside.”
“Then the haus will smell like Grischtdaag. And Grischtdaag is a happy smell,” Elizabeth said.
“Jah,” David agreed. “That’s because Grischtdaag is when wunderbaar things happen, isn’t it, Daed?”
In response, Levi smiled wanly and tousled his son’s hair. Holidays weren’t the same after Leora had died. Since his mother had also passed on, Levi didn’t even know how they’d spend Thanksgiving Day. The thought of celebrating Christmas felt overwhelming to him. He’d be so busy selling trees beforehand and then selling the house shortly afterward he felt like he wouldn’t have any time for festivities. But knowing the children were looking forward to the holidays gave him a boost of motivation. We’ll have joy again in our haus before we move if it’s the last thing we do, he decided.
* * *
Sadie leaned her head against the window of the van. Although traveling by vehicle made her nauseated, she knew the older Englisch couple who’d transported members of her district for years were cautious drivers, and she shifted into a more relaxing position.
It was a long trip from Little Springs, Pennsylvania, to Serenity Ridge, Maine. She’d begun the day excited to see sights she’d only read about—the scenic Pocono Mountains and Hudson River; cities like Allentown, Hartford and Worcester; and Englisch neighborhoods with houses spaced so close together it seemed the residents could stick their hands out their windows and touch each other’s fingertips. It was dusk by the time the van crossed the bridge linking Maine and New Hampshire, and the closer they got to their final destination, the more densely forested the land became. No wonder they nicknamed this the Pine Tree State, she thought.
That was one of the few facts Sadie knew about Maine. As for the Amish community in Serenity Ridge, it was one of a handful of settlements that had been established in Maine in the past two or three decades. The families there hailed from places as disparate as Canada, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Missouri and Tennessee. Some were drawn to the area because the land was less expensive than in their home states; others came in pursuit of new opportunities or to escape the Amish tourism industry. The Maine settlements were still growing, and from what Sadie heard, Serenity Ridge only had about fifteen small Amish families in residence.
That will be gut. The fewer people, the less chance of there being any hochzichen while I’m there, she thought.
For the umpteenth time, Sadie inwardly chastised herself for acting so rashly and quitting her job. Harrison probably thought he’d really broken her heart, when actually she was over him within a week. That’s because I wasn’t truly in love with Harrison, she’d written in her diary when the realization struck her. I was infatuated with infatuation. From now on, I’m putting those notions out of my head. Romance isn’t everything after all. Confident a change of scenery would reinforce her new perspective, Sadie pushed any lingering embarrassment from her mind and quietly hummed the rest of the way to Serenity Ridge.
Once they arrived at the daadi haus, the driver carried her luggage to the porch and wished her the best. Sadie pushed open the door, which Levi had indicated would be unlocked when he left the address and a brief voice mail on the machine at the phone shanty.
He must have turned up the gas heat for her, because the kitchen was toasty and so was the small living room. The daadi haus also contained a bathroom and two cozy bedrooms. To Sadie’s surprise, her host had even made both beds up and set extra quilts at the foot of each one. What a thoughtful thing to do. He must have known I’d be exhausted. Deciding there’d be time enough for unpacking before she went to Levi’s house to meet him and the twins tomorrow, Sadie fell into bed.
Her deep sleep was punctuated only by a morning dream about Christmas trees that was so real it seemed as if she was woken by their fragrance. But no, it was a rapping on the door that forced her to open her eyes and jump out of bed. It took a moment for her to recognize her surroundings before she cloaked her shoulders in a quilt and shuffled to the mudroom.
“Guder mariye.” The rangy man who greeted her had a slightly crooked nose, a shock of dark hair and thick eyebrows framing his doleful green eyes. But it was his facial hair that really caught Sadie’s attention; not only was he sporting the usual Amish beard men wore after marrying, but he had a neatly trimmed mustache, too.
Suddenly remembering her manners, she replied, “Guder mariye.”
He must have noticed her gaze, because he pointed to his face and said, “Here in Maine, we do things a little differently. Mustaches aren’t forbidden. They’re not required, either.”
Sadie was so caught off guard by his forthrightness and so embarrassed he’d noticed her staring that she pulled back and stuttered, “I—I—”
Fortunately, the children interrupted. “My name is Elizabeth,” lisped the chubby girl with a missing tooth.
“I’m David,” the boy piped up. He was the spitting image of his father, although his nose was smaller and straight.
“I’m four years old. Almost five,” Elizabeth proudly announced.
“Me, too,” David informed Sadie, as if she wasn’t aware they were twins.
Smiling, she replied, “Guder mariye. I’m Sadie Dienner.”
“Denki for coming to help us on such short notice,” Levi said. “I’m Levi, by the way.”
“Hello, Levi. It’s my pleasure to be here. Not that I’m glad about the circumstances, of course, but I’m... I’m—” Sadie stopped herself midsentence. She was babbling and probably blushing, too.
Levi acted as if she hadn’t misspoken. “Sorry to wake you so early after your long trip, but we brought you millich and oier. And we thought you’d want to ride to church with us. It’s almost time to leave, so while you’re, um, getting dressed, we’ll bring the buggy around front.”
Back in Little Springs, today would have been an off-Sunday, meaning Amish families worshipped in their own homes instead of gathering as a group at a designated house. But not all districts followed the same schedule. Sadie pushed her long, light brown ringlets over her shoulder, suddenly aware she wasn’t wearing a prayer kapp, and accepted the basket with one hand while still clutching the blanket tight around her with the other.
“Denki. I’ll be ready in just a few minutes.” Before closing the door with her foot she stole another glance at the hair above Levi’s lip. Although it took a moment to grow accustomed to the sight of it, she had to admit it was becoming to him.
The old Sadie might have been tempted to imagine a courtship with him, but the new Sadie isn’t going to give it a second thought, she resolutely decided.
* * *
Levi was expecting a younger woman, maybe seventeen or eighteen at most. Until this morning, he and Sadie hadn’t actually spoken. They’d only left a couple of sparsely detailed messages on the machines at each other’s phone shanties. All Levi knew was Sadie was the stepdaughter of a distant relative, that she’d helped care for her four younger siblings and that she was willing to come to Maine right away. He’d never thought to ask how old she was. Not that it mattered; it was just that he was surprised someone her age wasn’t married and
didn’t have a family of her own.
Maybe she’s widowed, too, he mused but quickly dismissed the idea. There was nothing about her expression suggesting the shadow of grief. Quite the opposite: her eyes were as blue as a cloudless sky and her complexion was just as sunny. If anything, she seemed a bit self-conscious; perhaps because she’d just woken and her hair was loose and mussed from sleep. Even so, her lips were pert with a breezy smile. Vaguely recalling when Leora used to appear as luminous as that, Levi sighed.
“Kumme,” he called to the children and headed to the stable, where the pair of them stayed outside and sat on the stone wall. He required them to keep a safe distance whenever he was hitching or unhitching the horse and buggy. Once finished, he signaled them to approach and they climbed into the back seat so there’d be room for Sadie—who joined them just then—to sit up front with Levi.
“Look at all the pine trees!” she exclaimed as they traversed the long straight road that cut across town. “I could only see their outlines last night. They seem even bigger in the daylight.”
“Don’t you have pine trees where you come from?” Elizabeth asked.
“Not nearly as many as you have here. I’ve never been out of Lancaster County, so it’s fun to see new sights.”
“Later in the week I can take you to the Englisch supermarket,” Levi offered. “The library and post office, too. Since we’re still a young settlement, we don’t have as many Amish businesses as you probably have in Little Springs.”
“Do the Englischers gawk at you when you’re in town?”
“Neh, not at this time of year. Most of them are year-round residents and they’re used to us by now. They’ve been wunderbaar about accepting us into the community but also respecting our differences. Summer is a different story, though, because that’s when tourists kumme to vacation on Serenity Ridge Lake. To them we’re a novelty. Or part of the scenery—I’ve been photographed too many times to count.”
Sadie clicked her tongue sympathetically. Then she pointed to a house. “There’s another one!”
“Another what?”
“A green roof. They’re everywhere.”
“Jah, they’re made of metal,” Levi said, amused by her observation. He’d been here long enough that he didn’t notice the differences between Maine and his home state anymore. “Metal roofing is very popular here because it’s durable and energy efficient. Plus, it keeps ice dams from forming, which is important during our harsh winters. One of our district members, Colin Blank, owns a metal roofing company and he can hardly keep up with the demand.”
Sadie nodded, clearly taking it all in. She was quiet until they turned onto the dirt road and Levi announced their destination was at the top of the hill. “What a strange-looking haus,” she remarked. “Who lives here?”
“No one.” Levi chuckled. Her bewilderment was winsome. “It’s a church building.”
“You worship in a building instead of a home?” Sadie asked so incredulously it sounded as if she was accusing them of something scandalous.
“Jah. The settlement in Unity does, too. It’s a rarity, but it makes sense for us since we’re so spread out and this is the most central location.”
“Wow. Is there anything else I should know about Amish life in Maine?”
“Hmm... Well, on Thanksgiving we eat smoked moose instead of turkey,” Levi teased.
Sadie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
Levi felt guilty about the alarmed look on her face. “Neh. I was only kidding. We have turkey and all the usual fixings.”
“Have you ever encountered a moose?”
“Neh. Fortunately. If they feel threatened, they can be very dangerous creatures.”
“You should always give them lots of space,” Elizabeth advised from the back seat.
“And never get in between a mamm moose and its calf,” David warned. “Because the mamm might charge.”
“I’ll remember that,” Sadie said. “Although I’m a pretty fast runner, so if it charged it would probably moose me.”
David and Elizabeth cracked up, but Levi had to bite his tongue to keep from telling Sadie it wasn’t a joking matter. He hoped she wasn’t going to be glib about the rules he had for the children’s safety or reckless about their care, the way the other nannies had been. Overbearing, one of them had called him in response to his reminders. But what did she know about the responsibilities involved in raising children? She was practically a child herself.
At least Sadie’s older than the other meed were, he thought. But older didn’t necessarily mean wiser. Suddenly, he was struck by a worrisome thought: Why had someone Sadie’s age traveled all this way to take a job usually reserved for teenage girls? She’d been so highly recommended by his uncle that Levi hadn’t thought to ask why she was willing to come to Maine—during Christmas season, no less! Levi was only distantly related to Cevilla, so it wasn’t as if Sadie was fulfilling a familial obligation. Maybe she couldn’t find employment in Pennsylvania—or worse, she’d had a job but was fired.
The other possibilities that occupied Levi’s mind throughout the church service were equally unsettling. As the congregation rose to sing the closing hymn, Levi decided the only way to know if Sadie was a good nanny would be to keep an even closer watch on her than he had on the others. And somehow, he was going to have to accomplish that feat without offending her with his scrutiny.
Dear Lord, give me wisdom and tact, he silently prayed. And if I’ve made a mistake by hiring Sadie, please show me before any harm befalls my precious kinner.
Chapter Two
Although there were fewer families present and church was held in a building instead of a house—and although half of the men wearing beards also wore mustaches—the worship service in Serenity Ridge was very similar to the services Sadie was accustomed to in Little Springs and she felt right at home. Especially because afterward the women greeted her warmly as she helped them prepare the standard after-church lunch of peanut butter, bread, cold cuts, cheese, pickled beets and chowchow in the little kitchen in the basement.
A svelte, energetic blonde woman about five or six years older than Sadie introduced herself as Maria Beiler, one of Levi’s seasonal employees. She said she’d be making wreaths and working the cash register at the farm. “It’s so gut of you to kumme all the way from Pennsylvania. I don’t know what Levi would have done if you hadn’t arrived to watch the kinner.”
“I suppose it’s difficult to find a nanny in such a small district,” Sadie replied modestly.
“Not nearly as difficult as keeping one,” Maria mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Sadie asked, but Maria had whisked a basket of bread from the counter and was already on her way to the gathering room. Her curiosity piqued, Sadie wondered what could be so difficult about retaining a nanny to mind these children. From what she could tell so far, David and Elizabeth were exceptionally well behaved and sweet, if a little timid.
Then it occurred to her Levi might be the one who presented a challenge. He did seem a bit uptight, lacking the sense of humor to laugh at her corny moose joke. But that hardly qualified as a personality flaw and it didn’t overshadow his thoughtfulness in warming up the daadi haus for her or bringing her milk and eggs. Since Sadie knew she wasn’t the best judge of men’s characters, she decided to let Maria’s remark slide. After all, this was a short-term position, and as far as Sadie was concerned, it didn’t matter if the children were incorrigible or Levi was a two-headed monster; she could tolerate anything if it meant avoiding wedding season in Little Springs.
After lunch the women sent Sadie home carrying a canvas bag bulging with plastic containers of leftovers, since she hadn’t been to the supermarket yet and didn’t have anything in her cupboards to snack on. She offered to share the food with Levi and the children at supper, but Levi insisted she enjoy it at leisure by herself. “The Sabbath is a d
ay of rest and you’ve had a long trip. You’ll be preparing meals for us soon enough.”
Although Sadie appreciated his consideration, she wasn’t used to spending Sunday afternoon and evening all alone, and by Monday morning she was so antsy to hear the sound of another person’s voice, she showed up at Levi’s house half an hour early.
“Who is it?” Elizabeth squeaked from the other side of the door.
“It’s me, Sadie,” she answered, wondering who else the child thought could be arriving at that hour. She heard a bolt sliding from its place—in Little Springs, the Amish never locked their houses when they were at home—before the door swung open.
“Guder mariye,” the twins said in unison.
“Guder mariye,” Sadie replied as she made her way into the mudroom. After taking off her coat and shoes and continuing through to the kitchen, she remarked, “Look at you, both dressed already. Have you eaten breakfast, too?”
“Neh, Daed said if we waited maybe you’d make us oatmeal ’cause when he makes it it’s as thick as cement.”
Sadie laughed. “I’m happy to make oatmeal. But where is your daed? Out milking the cow?”
“Neh,” Levi answered as he entered the room. His face was rosy as if it had been freshly scrubbed, and Sadie noticed droplets of water sparkling from the corners of his mustache. She quickly refocused to meet his eyes. He added, “I wouldn’t leave the kinner here alone. I hope you wouldn’t, either.”
Sadie was puzzled. Most Amish children Elizabeth and David’s age could be trusted to behave if their parents momentarily stepped outside to milk the cow or hang the laundry. What was it about the twins that gave Levi pause about leaving them unsupervised? If Sadie didn’t figure it out by herself soon, she’d ask him later in private. “Of course I wouldn’t. We’ll stick together like glue.” Then she jested, “Or like cement.”
Courting the Amish Nanny Page 2