An Unexpected Amish Harvest

by Carrie Lighte

  But just then, Benuel came around the corner from the opposite direction. He must have heard their entire conversation because he said, “Unlike Peter, I’m going in your direction, Susannah. We’ll have to drop Emily off at the Englishers’ first, but we should make it to your haus in plenty of time to prevent your groossdaadi from heading out to get you.”

  Susannah glanced at the mechanical clock on the shelf and nodded. “I think that might be a better idea than walking. Denki, Benuel.”

  “No prob,” he replied, just like an Englischer. And for some reason, the thought of Benuel giving Susannah a ride home alone disturbed Peter more than anything Marshall could have said to him.

  Chapter Six

  Since it was an off Sunday, Susannah worshipped with her grandparents, Jacob and Conrad at home in the morning. Afterward, they ate a light lunch, comprised solely of leftovers, since Susannah didn’t cook on the Sabbath unless it was absolutely necessary. Then, since the sky was bright and sunny and it was the last opportunity to go fishing before the season ended for the year, the boys took off for Little Loon Pond.

  Susannah wasn’t sorry to see them go, but she was sorry they were taking the buggy because it meant she couldn’t travel to the phone shanty. She had hoped to place a call to the phone shanty nearest her home in Dover, where she could leave a voice-mail message asking Charity to send the recipes for vegetable lasagna and a few other meals she intended to make. Iddo and Almeda Stoll—New Hope’s deacon and his wife—were arriving later in the afternoon to visit Susannah’s grandparents, so it would have been the perfect opportunity for her to slip away by herself. But since the boys took the buggy, out of respect for her grandparents’ wishes, Susannah wouldn’t insist on walking to the shanty by herself.

  So after a light lunch, she put on a pot of water for tea and sat in the living room with Lydia while it heated. Marshall was napping in the large chair at the opposite end of the room, next to the woodstove. At least, Susannah assumed he was napping; it was possible he was just closing his eyes because he didn’t feel like being included in the women’s discussion. Susannah didn’t blame him; she didn’t feel much like talking, either. She had a slight headache—she blamed it on eating either too much salt or too much sugar the previous day—and after the water came to a boil and she served tea, she hoped to go outside for a walk around the farm.

  “Is Dorcas going to stop by today?” Lydia asked her.

  “That would be nice, but I kind of doubt she will.” Susannah had noticed Dorcas had been subtly cool toward her for the duration of the work frolic. And there was no question that she hadn’t wanted Susannah to ride home with her and Peter and Eva. But Susannah realized she was probably the one at fault for that; it couldn’t have been pleasant for Dorcas to be in the middle of the tension between Susannah and Peter. Now that they’d come to a truce of sorts, maybe Dorcas wouldn’t have to try so hard to make up for Susannah’s sour attitude toward him. “I’ll have to apologize.”

  “Ach? Did you meed have a falling out?”

  Susannah had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t realized she’d voiced herself aloud. “Neh, not exactly. We just haven’t been quite as close as we were last summer or at Grischtdaag,” Susannah admitted. “It’s probably because so much time has passed since the last time we saw each other. Writing letters is different than interacting in person.”

  “Jah. And I imagine she has to adjust to seeing you so thin. She might be a bit envious.”

  “Neh, I don’t think so. She has never expressed being dissatisfied with her weight.” On the contrary, she had sometimes commented that she was grateful she had a few extra pounds on her frame because she believed her stature helped her lift and carry the heavy trays of food at the Millers’ restaurant more easily than some of the thinner waitstaff.

  “Well, her mamm has told me she’s been cutting back on what she eats, but she hasn’t had much success losing weight.”

  Now that Lydia mentioned it, perhaps Dorcas was unhappy about her size. Susannah realized that might have explained some of her remarks. If she wants to lose weight, I’d be hallich to share my recipes, Susannah thought. And I’ll encourage her however else I can.

  Switching the subject, Lydia commented, “It was nice of Benuel to bring you home yesterday.”

  “I wouldn’t have accepted a ride from him, but I didn’t want Groossdaadi to have to kumme get me since Benuel was already there,” Susannah emphatically explained, just as she’d done yesterday afternoon when she’d returned from the Hiltys’ house.

  “You know, your groossdaadi thinks he’s got a gut head on his shoulders.” Lydia lowered her voice. “I was surprised last night when he told me Benuel is a lot more financially responsible than Peter is.”

  Since when did other people’s finances become such an important issue to Groossdaadi? And what makes him think Peter isn’t financially responsible? Susannah wondered. While she agreed that it was important for men and women to be good stewards of the resources God gave them, she didn’t believe it was her place—or her grandparents’ place—to comment about how someone else handled their money.

  “Whether that’s true or not, it seems like a private matter between Peter, his familye and Gott.”

  Her response must have sounded sanctimonious, because Lydia quickly defended her husband, and said, “Marshall wasn’t gossiping—he was telling me by way of saying how hallich he is that you’re interested in Benuel, not Peter. I think he was even more delighted than I was when Benuel brought you home yesterday.”

  “I am not interested in Benuel!” Susannah exclaimed loudly. The fact that her grandfather didn’t even flinch proved to her he was, indeed, only pretending to be asleep.

  Lydia chuckled. “It’s okay, dear. Your groossdaadi and I won’t let on that we know, especially not in front of the buwe. We don’t want them to tease you or make it uncomfortable for you to be around Benuel at lunchtime.”

  “Excuse me. I hear the kettle whistling.” Susannah was so galled by Lydia’s refusal to accept what she was telling her that she had to flee the room to keep herself from responding in an inappropriate manner. After turning off the stove element, Susannah went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face and then she opened the window. Leaning her elbows on the windowsill, she closed her eyes and allowed the crisp breeze to dry her cheeks and chin as she tried to think of a respectful way to tell Lydia and her grandfather that she wished they wouldn’t meddle in her life so much. While she was resting there, she heard the familiar sound of a horse pulling a buggy up the lane. It’s Iddo and Almeda! Now I can finally go out for a walk alone.

  She straightened her prayer kapp and then returned to the living room. “I heard a buggy,” she announced and this time her grandfather opened his eyes. “I’ll fix a tray and say hello to Iddo and Almeda, then I’m going to take a stroll around the farm.”

  Susannah rushed into the kitchen before Lydia could insist that she ought to join her and Almeda for a visit instead of going outdoors. She pulled a plate from the cupboard and arranged several whoopie pies on it, as well as an assortment of cookies.

  There were so many leftover desserts from yesterday’s frolic that Faith had insisted she take home a bunch of goodies. “Since you don’t eat desserts anymore, I suppose you don’t bake them very often, either. But your household shouldn’t have to suffer just because you’re on a diet,” she’d joked.

  Conrad and Jacob had already polished off almost half of the sweets she’d brought home and Susannah hoped her grandparents, Almeda and Iddo would eat the rest this afternoon. Otherwise, Susannah might be tempted to overindulge. As she put teacups on the tray, Lydia shuffled through the kitchen with Marshall close behind.

  “It’s such a pleasant day that we’re going to visit out on the porch,” she told Susannah.

  That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do all week, Susannah thought ruefully.
She didn’t understand her stepgrandmother’s behavior lately. “I’ll be right out with these treats.”

  When they got to the door, Lydia halted, almost as if there was an invisible barrier keeping her from going any farther. Marshall reached to hold the door open for her with one hand, and with the other, he assisted her down the little ledge and onto the porch. Susannah had to admit to herself that her grandfather’s watchfulness over his wife was rather sweet, even if she personally found it stifling for herself.

  A minute later, she used her elbow to push open the door as she carried a tray outside. To her chagrin, it was Benuel, not Iddo and Almeda, who was conversing with her grandparents. “What are you doing here?” she asked without even saying hello. She set down the tray on the end of the bench next to the porch swing where her grandparents were seated.

  Benuel held up a nine-by-thirteen-inch baking pan. “You left this in my buggy yesterday and I thought I’d better return it to you in case you needed it for breakfast.”

  Susannah had never heard such an implausible excuse in her life. She noticed even Lydia had turned her head sideways—was she trying not to laugh? “It’s not mine. It must have been a pan Emily brought from your ant’s kitchen.”

  “Oh. Right. I should have asked her first.”

  “It was thoughtful of you to kumme all this way, Benuel,” Lydia said, smiling. “Why don’t you join us for a snack? We’re waiting for Almeda and Iddo to arrive.”

  “Denki.” Benuel stepped forward to take a seat on the bench, but when Susannah didn’t move, he motioned to it and said, “After you, Susannah.”

  “Neh, I don’t want to sit. I want to take a walk.”

  “That sounds wunderbaar,” Benuel replied, nodding as if she’d invited him to come, too. “Where do you want to go?”

  Even without looking at Lydia, Susannah could feel the older woman’s eyes on her and she knew she’d never hear the end of it if she told Benuel flat out that she didn’t want him to come with her. She was about to say she’d changed her mind—that she’d prefer to stay there with her grandparents, the deacon and his wife. But then she realized Iddo and Almeda might get the wrong idea. Most, but not all, young Amish couples tried to keep their courtships a private matter, but a few made no concerted effort to hide their involvement with each other. And it wouldn’t have been a stretch for the deacon and his wife to assume Benuel was at the house for the same reason Lydia had assumed he’d given Susannah a ride home.

  Cornered, she was about to give in and allow him to saunter around the farm with her when she realized she could use this situation to her advantage. “I was just going to take a walk around the farm. But now that you’re here, I wonder if you’d give me a ride to the phone shanty? Conrad and Jacob have taken the buggy and I need to call my sister-in-law.”

  Susannah would have been hard-pressed to determine who appeared most pleased by her suggestion: Marshall, Lydia or Benuel.

  “Of course I will,” Benuel said and practically danced down the porch steps.

  “Don’t hurry right back for my sake,” Lydia called as Susannah reluctantly plodded after him. “If it gets late, Almeda can help me put supper on the table.”

  “We’re only going to the phone shanty so I can leave a message for Charity. This isn’t a leisurely outing,” Susannah stated pointedly, so there’d be no question in anyone’s mind about why she’d suggested Benuel give her a ride. But when she turned to wave goodbye, Lydia winked at her and held a finger to her lips, signifying she wouldn’t disclose Susannah’s “secret.”

  Unfortunately, Benuel didn’t seem to take her at her word, either. “Since you wanted to go for a stroll, we could take a walk around Little Loon Pond after we go to the shanty,” Benuel suggested as they headed toward the main road.

  “Neh.” As much as she loved the trail around the pond, Susannah didn’t want to run in to Jacob and Conrad when she was out with Benuel, or else they might think he was courting her, too. Not to mention, Benuel might have interpreted her acceptance of the invitation as an encouraging sign. “As I told Lydia, my only purpose in going out is to make my phone call and then return home.”

  “Okay. But it sure is a beautiful day.”

  Susannah couldn’t argue with him about that; the day was unseasonably warm. Peak fall foliage viewing for the elms, oaks and maples wouldn’t happen for a few weeks, but the trees’ colors were beginning to change and they provided a striking contrast with the abundant eastern white pines.

  Since Susannah figured not even Benuel could misconstrue her comments about the weather or landscape as flirtation, she described the similarities and differences between this part of Maine with Dover. In turn, he told her about where he lived, too.

  “There are some rigorous hiking trails leading up to the ridge, but the view of the lake from up there is well worth the effort. It’s incredible,” he raved. “There’s a trail here in New Hope that’s comparable—it goes through the gorge and up to Pleasant Peak.”

  “Jah. I know. I’ve hiked it several times.” Technically, Susannah hadn’t really hiked the trail. It was more like she and Peter used to amble through the woods in the same area, looking for a private, shady spot to picnic during the summer they’d courted.

  One time they’d become so distracted talking to each other that they’d lost their way back to the parking lot. As they were trying to get their bearings, Peter had taken her hand in his for the first time. He’d apologized that the pads of his hands were calloused and his skin was rough from his work as a carpenter, but Susannah wouldn’t have noticed; she was too giddy from the sensation of having her fingers intertwined with a man’s for the first time in her life. And for the last time, she thought, quickly dismissing the memory.

  “This is close enough,” she said a minute later, hopping out of the buggy before it even rolled to a stop near the shanty. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want Benuel to overhear the message she left for Charity. “I’ll only be a minute,” she promised.

  But when she got through to the voice-mail recording for the phone in the shanty closest to her home in Dover, Susannah left a long, rambling message for her family. She hadn’t realized how homesick she was until then and even though she knew they couldn’t hear her, she felt as if she was talking directly to them. She mentioned she was praying about her father’s medical checkup and that she hoped her niece was done cutting her tooth by now and was sleeping better. When she hung up, she realized she’d forgotten to ask Charity for the recipes, so she had to redial. She was so preoccupied with leaving her second message that until she hung up she didn’t realize someone else had come from the opposite direction and was standing nearby to use the phone.

  It was Hannah Miller and Dorcas. They must have walked from Dorcas’s house; Susannah hoped nothing had happened to her horse or buggy. “Hello,” she said, greeting them warmly. “What are you two doing here?”

  “The same thing you’re doing, lappich. Using the phone,” Dorcas retorted.

  Trying not to take offense at her sarcasm, Susannah clarified, “I just meant that I hope nothing’s wrong... I mean, because you walked all this way to use the phone instead of coming by buggy. Your horse is all right, isn’t she?”

  “Of course.” Dorcas sounded indignant. “I may not like to walk in the rain, but that doesn’t mean I’m lazy, you know.”

  “I wasn’t implying you’re lazy,” Susannah said softly. Given how sensitive Dorcas was about a thoughtful, straightforward inquiry, she was becoming more convinced that Lydia was right about her being envious of Susannah’s weight loss after all. Still, it hurt to be the object of her friend’s jealousy. And Susannah felt a little disappointed that Dorcas hadn’t invited her to be part of her Sabbath recreation. Hannah gets to see her all the time at the restaurant, but I’m only here for a few weeks and we had planned to spend as much time together on the weekends as we could. “I’m just s
urprised to see you, that’s all.”

  “Ooh—I think I know why we caught you off guard!” Hannah excitedly gave Susannah’s arm a squeeze. She whispered, “Is that Benuel I see waiting for you in the buggy over there?”

  Susannah glanced over her shoulder. “Jah. He just stopped by the haus to return a pan he thought was mine. I wanted to kumme to the shanty to call my familye, but Jacob and Conrad had taken my groossdaadi’s buggy, so Benuel gave me a ride.” Even to her own ears, Susannah’s explanation sounded as far-fetched as Benuel’s excuse had originally sounded.

  “Don’t worry,” Hannah said out of the corner of her mouth as she waved animatedly at Benuel. “You can trust us. We won’t tell anyone, will we, Dorcas?”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Susannah insisted.

  “Hi, Hannah. Hi, Dawn,” Benuel called.

  Susannah inwardly cringed because he’d gotten Dorcas’s name wrong again, although at least he was getting closer. She thought her friend would deliver a snide comeback, but Dorcas plastered a smile on her lips and lifted her hand in a cheerful wave.

  “Neh, we won’t tell anyone about you and Benuel,” she belatedly agreed with Hannah before following her into the phone shanty. “Have schpass, wherever you’re going.”

  But Susannah didn’t have fun; she had a headache. And the only place she was going was back to her grandparents’ house, where she read alone in her room with a cup of tea, the last two cookies and half a whoopie pie left on the plate she’d set out for the guests.

  * * *

  On Sunday evening, Eva served reheated leftover cabbage-patch stew that Faith had sent home with her from the frolic.

  “This is appenditlich,” Hannes said. “Who made it?”

  “Susannah Peachy. Do you like it, too, Mamm?”

  “It’s wunderbaar. I’ll have another serving, please.” Dorothy extended her bowl so her daughter could refill it.