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An Unexpected Amish Harvest

Page 15

by Carrie Lighte


  Susannah stuck her fists on her hips. “Now why would you say a thing like that?”

  “Because of the way I saw him looking at you. I think he’s enamored with you, Susannah.”

  Her heart pitter-pattered; Dorcas was saying the same thing Lydia had claimed. Both of them couldn’t be wrong, could they? “I’m not so sure about that,” Susannah replied. She wasn’t so unsure about it, either. The only thing she did know for certain was that the idea of having Peter as her suitor again had become a lot more appealing ever since she’d heard him admonishing Conrad and Benuel for their comments about her weight. Yet, she still had her doubts, which she voiced to Dorcas. “Maybe he just likes me again because I’ve lost weight.”

  “Neh. The way he looked at you at the frolic the other day was the same way I used to notice him look at you the summer you were courting.”

  “Jah, but during the summer he was courting me I wasn’t as heavy as during the winter he broke up with me,” Susannah pointed out.

  Dorcas shrugged. “I guess I can see why someone might draw that conclusion. But I’ve known Peter a long time and I’ve never fully believed that your weight had anything to do with why he called off your courtship.”

  “Uh-oh. Are you saying the real reason was because of my baremlich personality?” Susannah teased.

  “Neh! I’m just saying I don’t think it was your weight.”

  “The problem is, Peter isn’t saying what the reason is.” And I’m not sure I can face his answer, anyway, Susannah thought.

  As they were chatting, a buggy slowed down and came to a halt on the shoulder of the road about twenty yards ahead of them. Benuel hopped out and exclaimed, “Hi, Susannah! You’re just the weibsmensch I wanted to see.”

  “And I’m just the weibsmensch he apparently can’t see,” Dorcas muttered because he hadn’t greeted her.

  “Hi, Benuel,” Susannah replied coolly as they neared each other. She didn’t appreciate him ignoring Dorcas any more than Dorcas did.

  “Can I talk to you privately?” he asked. “It’s important.”

  “Now?”

  “Dawn won’t mind, will you?” he asked, grinning at Dorcas.

  “Neh. I’ll wait over there,” she replied, graciously ignoring his error. She crossed the road and leaned against the split-rail fence bordering a meadow, which the women would cross as a shortcut on their way to Dorcas’s house.

  “This will only take one minute,” Susannah called after her, emphasizing the words for Benuel’s benefit. Then she turned to him. “What’s so urgent it can’t wait until tomorrow when we see each other on the bauerei?”

  “Since you mentioned how much you like the trails at the gorge, I rounded up a group of people to go hiking together. I couldn’t find you after kurrich, but Marshall told me you’d headed in this direction. We’ll have to hurry to catch up with the others.”

  Susannah was incredulous that he’d assumed she’d want to go hiking with him without even asking her first. Furthermore, it was rude of him to take her aside now, just so he wouldn’t have to extend the invitation to Dorcas, too. “In case you didn’t notice, I’ve already got plans for the afternoon—I’m taking a walk with my gut friend. I’m not about to just ditch her and take off with you.”

  He glanced across the road, to where Dorcas was leaning against the railing. “Okay, we can give Dawn a ride home first.” He chuckled wryly. “Although it seems like she could use the exercise.”

  “Her name is Dorcas and she probably gets more exercise in a day than you do in three,” Susannah replied hotly. “And my answer is still neh.” She started to cross the street, but Benuel pulled on her hand and she spun back toward him.

  “Wait,” he urged her. Releasing her fingers, he whispered, “I didn’t just search for you so I could ask you to go to the gorge. I wanted to ask to be your suitor.”

  Susannah had acquired a lot of experience turning down potential suitors in the last year, since she’d lost weight, so she knew a kind but firm response was the best way to decline. “Denki for the offer, Benuel. But my answer is neh.”

  His mouth dropped open in surprise and then he closed it again and his features turned hard. Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head at her, but he returned to his buggy and sped away without saying another word.

  At least there’s no doubt in his mind about whether I’m interested in him or not, Susannah thought. Which was more clarity than she had about Peter’s feelings toward her.

  * * *

  On Sunday night, Peter was lying in bed, trying to focus on the blessings he’d received that weekend. Most notably, although his mother was as tired as ever—she’d fallen asleep during church again—her mood seemed to have improved. There was a spark of hope in her voice again, too. Peter attributed this to the conversation she’d had with Susannah about the health benefits she’d experienced after making changes to her family’s diet. Dorothy was so excited about the possibility that some of these changes might benefit her, too, that she’d asked Hannes to use their business cell phone to schedule an appointment for her with a nutritionist. He and his siblings were encouraged that she was willing to seek medical help again.

  The other blessing Peter was especially grateful for was that everything had gone smoothly with the lumber delivery. Sometimes they received the wrong amount of supplies, which caused a delay, but the shipment was exactly what they’d ordered. He and Hannes had organized the wood and other supplies in a way that it would be kept dry and allow them to work efficiently. So they were well-prepared to start crafting the tables beginning tomorrow.

  Also, Eva was delighted to have tried out a few new recipes. Peter knew that Susannah’s guidance had been a real confidence booster for his sister. It was a relief to know that if his mother’s condition didn’t improve soon and she still couldn’t supervise Eva’s cooking, the young girl had been emboldened to try new recipes on her own.

  Yet in spite of these occurrences, Peter wrestled with worry and resentment. He was still deeply concerned about his mother’s health, of course. What if she goes to a nutritionist and finds out that changing her diet doesn’t improve her health? Will that make her even more resistant to consulting a different type of dokder in the future? he wondered.

  He also fretted about whether or not he and Hannes would meet the deadline for the wedding project. Although Peter preferred to simply agree to a project and then keep his word, many Englischers insisted on writing up contracts. This particular couple stipulated that if Peter and Hannes didn’t deliver the full number of tables on time, they’d face a steep financial penalty. Peter intended to work every evening with his brother, but what if one of them became ill? Even one missed day of work could jeopardize the entire outcome of their endeavor.

  But what Peter struggled with more than anything else was his resentment about Marshall’s disparaging attitude toward him. Even if he’d only meant it as a token gesture, Peter found it insulting that when Marshall had gone to the doctor with Lydia on Thursday afternoon, he’d asked Benuel to keep an eye on the farm and crew. It wasn’t that Peter wanted to be put in charge himself. It was that the very notion of someone “keeping an eye on” him and the rest of the crew was demeaning.

  While Jacob and Conrad may have needed occasional supervision or instruction, overall, they were diligent and skilled young men. And as a matter of fact, Peter had far more harvesting experience than Benuel and he was far more industrious, too. If anyone needs someone keeping an eye on him and monitoring his behavior, it’s Benuel, Peter ranted to himself. Not just because of all the breaks he takes when he should be working, but because of the way he speaks about weibsleit. Especially about Susannah.

  Granted, Peter had effectively put an end to those kinds of comments when he’d confronted Conrad and Benuel in the barn after hearing them joking about Eva’s and Susannah’s weight. And both of the young men had mumbled apologies
. So Peter knew it would be unforgiving to continue to hold their behavior against them. But what bothered him was that Marshall didn’t seem to understand that Benuel was the kind of young man who still needed to be told to watch his mouth in the first place.

  I don’t want Marshall to think more highly of me than he does of Benuel just because Benuel is immature or because he’s used inappropriate language, Peter told himself. But I resent it that Marshall regards me as a lesser mann because he thinks I’m not a gut steward of the money Gott has given me. Especially since that’s not even true!

  But it didn’t matter what Peter wanted. The fact was, Marshall favored Benuel, probably because it was well-known in the district that Benuel had prospered financially when he’d lived among the Englisch and apparently he’d saved most of his income. I’m sure Marshall would wilkom Benuel into his familye if he started courting Susannah and their courtship leads to marriage. The thought made Peter’s heart clench like a fist within his chest.

  He would have liked to think the notion of Benuel marrying Susannah was a preposterous idea. However, at church this morning, as he’d been unhitching Pepper from the buggy, he’d overheard Benuel inviting Isaiah Wittmer to meet him and Susannah at the gorge to go hiking. “Bring Hannah,” he’d said, referring to the woman Isaiah was going to marry soon. “We’ll have a lot of schpass together—just the four of us.”

  “You’re courting Susannah?” Isaiah had asked.

  “Not yet, but I hope to ask her very soon. Who knows? Maybe by this time next year I’ll be looking forward to my hochzich, just like you’re looking forward to yours right now.”

  Their exchange had bothered Peter so much that he’d actually felt nauseated. So when his mother had said she wasn’t sure she’d have enough energy to stay for lunch after church, Peter quickly volunteered to take her home. But his stomach never did settle down; he hadn’t even been able to eat any of the leftovers Eva had brought home from church for their supper.

  I doubt very much Susannah would accept Benuel as her suitor, he thought, but it was only a small consolation. Because whether or not Benuel courted Susannah, it didn’t change the fact that there was absolutely no possibility that Peter could ever be her suitor again. It was so infuriating. So unjust. And it grieved him so deeply he almost wished Susannah hadn’t returned to New Hope, so he wouldn’t have to remember all he’d given up.

  But the hard truth was, he’d made an agreement with Marshall and now he had to abide by his promise to not court his granddaughter. Peter rolled over on his side and was almost asleep when he was struck by a new realization: I may have agreed never to court or socialize with Susannah, but I never promised I wouldn’t talk with her, laugh with her and enjoy her company for as long as she’s on the bauerei.

  He’d already been doing that to some extent, but he intended to do it more frequently and more fully. He was tired of hanging his head. Of flinching every time Marshall looked at him askance. Of acting like a teenager who was worried he’d get caught courting a girl in his father’s buggy. What’s Marshall going to do about it? He can’t tell Susannah about our arrangement—he’d be breaking his word. And he can’t ban me from the bauerei because he needs my help too much.

  Suddenly, his stomach felt calmer than it had felt all day and he could hardly wait to eat lunch tomorrow.

  * * *

  Susannah sensed a certain frostiness in Benuel’s attitude toward her during lunch on Monday afternoon. But having been rejected herself, she’d understood why it may have been uncomfortable for him to have to sit next to her at the table and make small talk after she’d just turned down his offer of courtship the day before. So she tried to ease the tension with lighthearted chatter.

  “Eva told me you and Hannes enjoyed the meatballs we made on Samschdaag,” she commented to Peter.

  “Jah. I enjoy everything you make.”

  “Denki.” Susannah could feel her cheeks flush as Lydia raised an eyebrow at her. She was so flustered that she kept prattling away. “She said you menner devoured all of them and she didn’t have any leftovers for your Sabbaat supper. That used to happen at my haus, too. I’d tell my little nieces and nephews how many they were allowed to eat and we’d count them out together as I put them in the serving dish. But then my bruder would take twice as many as he was supposed to and the kinner would get upset because he’d eaten some of their share, too.”

  Susannah stopped to take a sip of milk before continuing. “One morning, my youngest nephew must have heard me telling Charity that I was making meatballs for supper, because he brought home his number line from schul and set it near his daed’s place at the table. He wasn’t being naughty—he thought he was being helpful. We laughed so hard we cried. Now when I make meatballs, I just set aside whatever I need for leftovers for the next day before I serve them. And my bruder is not allowed to have more than he can count on one hand.” Everyone except Benuel and Marshall had a good laugh over Susannah’s story.

  “You should get a number line for Conrad,” Jacob suggested. “That’s his third helping of applesauce.”

  “Isn’t it wunderbaar? Lydia made it at a frolic this weekend.”

  “I hardly helped make it—Almeda and Lovina did. I couldn’t peel any apples with my broken wing here.” She held up her arm. “But I did help whisk ingredients for the apple-butter pies they brought to kurrich yesterday.”

  “It was appenditlich,” Peter said, complimenting her. “Eva brought home leftovers and I had a piece for breakfast this morning.”

  “Oh, that’s right—I forgot apple-butter was your favorite autumn pie,” Susannah said without thinking until she noticed Lydia shoot her an odd look. In an attempt to cover her slipup, she brightly announced, “My favorite pie is peanut-butter pie. Especially the way my mamm used to make it—Lydia’s the only person who makes it exactly the same way. Last summer she used to make one at least once a week when I was visiting. Between my groossdaadi and me, we’d polish it off within two days, wouldn’t we, Groossdaadi?”

  Marshall barely grunted in acknowledgment of Susannah’s question. At exactly the same time, Benuel remarked, “That must have been when you were still overweight.”

  Both responses stung, but at least Susannah understood why Benuel was making a wisecrack; she had no idea why her grandfather was being so prickly.

  “That remark was inappropriate, Benuel,” Peter stated in a low, controlled voice.

  “What?” Benuel acted surprised, turning his palms upward. “I just meant that I can’t imagine Susannah eating that much food anymore.”

  Marshall abruptly rose to his feet. “Time for work,” he said and pointed toward the door. All of the young men scrambled outside, except for Peter, who finished the last three spoons of his applesauce first.

  “Denki, Lydia and Susannah.” He put on his hat and walked past Marshall.

  As soon as Peter closed the door behind him, Marshall sat back down at the table. Susannah didn’t understand what was going on, but it didn’t take long for her to find out. “Has he asked to be your suitor?” her grandfather asked bluntly.

  Most Amish parents or grandparents she knew didn’t directly ask their children and grandchildren about their courtships. But Susannah figured her grandfather hadn’t appreciated Benuel’s comment and he was concerned about her having a suitor who was rude to her. So she openly admitted, “Jah. But don’t worry, I turned him down. I think that’s why he made the remark he made at lunch, but it’s okay, Groossdaadi—I know how to handle it.”

  Her grandfather rattled his head, as if he hadn’t heard right. “You mean Benuel asked to court you and you said neh?”

  “Jah. That’s right.”

  “Has Peter asked to court you, too?”

  The answer just spilled from her lips. “Neh.”

  “Gut. Because I’d prefer you didn’t socialize with him.”

  It was Susannah
’s turn to wiggle her head. “Why not?”

  “I have my reasons,” Marshall answered tersely and stood up as if the subject was closed.

  Drawing her spine upward so she was sitting as straight as she could, Susannah stopped him when she said, “I respect your opinion, Groossdaadi, but I’m twenty-three years old and I’ll make my own decisions about courting. If you’d like to share the reason you wouldn’t want me to accept Peter for a suitor, I’ll give it my full consideration. But otherwise, I can’t abide by your wishes in the event that Peter asks to court me.” Her legs felt shaky even though she was seated.

  Marshall opened his mouth and then closed it again. Then he left. Susannah leaped to her feet and started clearing the table in a whirlwind of activity. “He is being so unreasonable,” she complained, more to herself, under her breath. “And so controlling.”

  Lydia, who had been uncharacteristically silent during their discussion, spoke up now. “I know you’re angry with your groossdaadi and you probably have gut reason to be. But his intention isn’t to be controlling—it’s to take care of you. He thinks he’s asking you to do something that’s for your own gut.”

  “I don’t need him to take care of me. I’m twenty-three years old!” Susannah said for a second time, waving a dirty serving spoon in the air. “I can decide what’s gut for me and what’s not. And I can decide who I want for a suitor.”

  “I agree,” Lydia said calmly. “And I’m not saying you shouldn’t make your own decisions about who to court. But you should keep in mind that your groossdaadi has made concessions for your opinion, too. It might help you not to feel so angry.”

  “What do you mean? What concessions has he made for my opinion?”

  “Well, he’s been eating the kind of foods that you think are gut for him, even though he’s certainly old enough to decide for himself what he wants to eat, isn’t he?”

  “But—but that’s not the same,” Susannah stuttered.

 

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