An Unexpected Amish Harvest

by Carrie Lighte

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Peter traveled toward the farm feeling thoroughly energized. He’d spent the better part of the Sabbath either napping or praying for wisdom about his dilemma concerning the promise he’d made to Marshall. The more time Peter spent with Susannah, the more intense his desire to court her became. And he was confident that she would accept him as her suitor again if he asked. Yet he couldn’t court her without breaking his word to Marshall, which was unacceptable to Peter. So his thoughts had kept circling around and around and ending up back at the same dead end.

  However, as he was praying on Sunday it had occurred to him that there was one way he could court Susannah, and that was if Marshall released him from his promise. Until now, Peter couldn’t have imagined the old farmer ever agreeing to do that. But because Marshall had injured his back and his crew had to take over the farm, Peter saw a perfect opportunity to show Marshall how responsible he was. To show him that he was a good steward—not just of his own money, but of a farm that didn’t even belong to him. Maybe once the older man recognized that, he’d be more open to Peter courting Susannah.

  The possibility was so exciting that as his buggy rolled down the lane on Marshall’s property and Peter heard the birds’ tuneful chirping, he couldn’t resist whistling along with them. It’s already a wunderbaar day, he thought. And I haven’t even seen Susannah yet.

  She always came out of the house a little later than Jacob and Conrad did in the morning, because she had to wash and dry the dishes and tidy the kitchen after breakfast. But he was surprised that Benuel hadn’t arrived at the farm by the time the young men had hitched the digger to the horse and Peter had carried the barrels into the fields. When he commented about it to Jacob and Conrad, they shrugged.

  “Last week he said he was going to take a long hike at the gorge yesterday, so maybe he got worn out and overslept,” Jacob suggested.

  Then Susannah came into the fields and Peter forgot all about Benuel’s absence until she asked where he was. Peter said he expected him any minute, but a minute turned into an hour and then two more hours passed. Looking worried, Susannah suggested someone should ride out to the Heisers’ house to find out what was keeping him.

  “Neh. It’s not worth the time we’d lose picking,” Peter said, glancing toward the lane. “If he’s not here by noon, I’ll go over to the Heisers’ haus during our break.”

  “You’d be willing to give up your lunch?” Susannah teased and hopped into his row to pick up a potato that she’d accidentally tossed over the barrel instead of into it. Standing inches in front of him, she playfully held up the spud. “I promise I’m not serving these again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Knowing Conrad and Jacob had their backs turned and the view from the house was obscured by the barn, Peter closed his hand around hers and wrested the vegetable from her fingers. He tossed it into the barrel and said, “As I’ve told you before, I like everything you make. Even so, I’d sacrifice my lunch break if I had to for the sake of our crew.” So she’d know he was completely serious, Peter peered into her eyes, then added, “But I’d really miss not sitting next to you at the table.”

  Beneath a residue of dusty dirt, a pink tinge rose in Susannah’s cheeks. “I’d miss that, too. I will miss that,” she replied and Peter understood. She didn’t just mean she’d miss him if he left this afternoon: she meant she’d also miss him once the harvest was over. It was all the confirmation he needed to decide he had to talk to Marshall about releasing him from his promise.

  His heart thundering as Susannah gazed up at him, Peter wanted nothing more than to lean forward and put his lips on hers. But since they weren’t courting, that would literally be akin to stealing a kiss—and Peter was no thief. It was agony, but instead of stepping closer, he took a step back. And he was glad he did because a moment later, someone shouted, “Hey!”

  He and Susannah both turned their heads to see Benuel heading toward them and the boys. One of his coat sleeves was flapping loosely as he walked and he appeared to be hiding something beneath his coat.

  “Hi, Benuel. What have you got there—a kitten?” Susannah asked, instead of immediately asking why he was so late.

  “Neh.” Benuel pulled open one side of his coat to reveal his arm was in a sling.

  “Voll schpass.” Because Benuel was smirking, Peter had assumed he was pulling a prank. Or feigning a broken arm as an excuse for being late, which actually seemed in poor taste considering Marshall’s and Lydia’s recent injuries.

  “I’m not kidding. I dislocated my shoulder pretty bad when I was helping my onkel move a generator before work this morning. The dokder popped my arm back into place but the dislocation tore a ligament,” he reported. “Anyway, I can’t use my arm for the next two days at least, and no heavy lifting for two weeks after that.”

  Jacob clutched the top of his hat in consternation and Conrad muttered, “That’s baremlich.” But it was difficult to tell if they were upset on Benuel’s behalf or because they were losing a coworker.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt.” Susannah furrowed her forehead, obviously concerned about his well-being. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “Well, it doesn’t tickle.”

  Even though Benuel seemed dismissive of Susannah’s empathy, Peter also expressed his concern, and then asked, “I don’t suppose you can steer the horses and digger using only one hand, can you?”

  “Lydia might have a better chance at doing that than I would,” Benuel quipped. Then his expression turned somber. “My onkel is waiting for me in the van. We asked the driver to stop here on the way home from the ER. So I guess I’d better go tell Marshall I can’t finish harvesting now.”

  He said goodbye to everyone, but before he walked away, Peter offered, “If your arm feels better next week and you’re looking for a job, Hannes and I could use some help making picnic tables. We’ve got an urgent order.”

  “Really?” Benuel’s eyes widened.

  “Jah.” Peter had seen his carpentry; Benuel did good work. And Peter intended to pay him for every table he completed instead of by the hour, so that would keep him on his toes. As far as Peter was concerned, the arrangement might be the Lord’s provision for both of them.

  “Denki,” Benuel said and started straggling through the fields toward the house.

  “I should go with him and reassure Groossdaadi we can still finish the harvest by Mittwoch evening.” Susannah bit her lip. “We can, can’t we?”

  “With Gott’s help, absolutely,” Peter confirmed. We’d better...because our future as a couple depends on it.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Wednesday, as the sun was setting and Conrad and Jacob went into the house, Susannah lingered outside with Peter. After three days of arduous labor, they were grime-streaked and bone-weary, but also elated that they’d completed the harvesting.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind and kumme in for supper?” Susannah asked, even though he’d already hitched his horse and buggy. “There’s plenty of food.”

  On Sunday afternoon, shortly after Eva and Dorothy had come by with the casseroles, Almeda and Iddo had dropped in for a visit. When Almeda had learned that Marshall wasn’t able to work on the farm so Susannah was helping the crew, the deacon’s wife offered to bring over a couple of meals. She also brought two more apple-butter pies, a batch of snickerdoodles and a container of pumpkin bars. On one hand, the extra food was terrific because it had meant Susannah didn’t have to cook or go to the grocery store until tomorrow. However, it also meant she’d given in to the temptation to eat the treats more often than not. This morning she’d had to adjust the pins on her skirt again because it was too tight.

  “Denki, but Eva is trying another new recipe and she’ll be disappointed if I’m not home to taste it. Plus, I’ve got to help Hannes in the workshop as soon as we’re done eating.”
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br />   It was just light enough to see Peter’s teeth as he turned toward her and smiled. Now that his horse and buggy were hitched, Susannah knew she should say goodbye and go inside and reheat her family’s meal in the oven. But she figured Lydia was capable of doing that, and besides, this was probably the last time she’d see Peter until they went to church on Sunday.

  “I’m sure if Groossdaadi was feeling better, he’d kumme out and thank you for all your help.” At least, that’s what she hoped he’d do. A breeze lifted her kapp strings and Susannah shivered, drawing her sweater closer around her torso.

  “You’re cold. I should leave,” Peter suggested. But he didn’t move away from her; he moved closer. Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, “If we were courting, I could give you a hug to keep you warm.”

  Susannah caught her breath. “If that’s a question, the answer is jah.”

  “Jah, I can court you or jah, I can give you a hug?”

  She giggled. “Both.”

  “Denki, Susannah.” Peter wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Is that better?”

  “Much,” she murmured into his chest.

  * * *

  As Peter journeyed home, he was aware that he’d put the cart before the horse by asking to court Susannah before speaking to her grandfather about their agreement. Yet despite acting in haste and against his better judgment, he didn’t regret his behavior one bit. Holding Susannah in his arms for those few minutes had made Peter more motivated than ever to ask her grandfather to release him from his promise.

  I’ll talk to him before lunchtime tomorrow, he thought. Susannah had mentioned she was going to the grocery store late that morning, so he knew she wouldn’t be at the house. He didn’t know whether Lydia and the boys would be home, but he hoped if he told Marshall he needed to speak with him privately, the old man would oblige him and step outdoors.

  That night he must have spent as much time praying about their upcoming discussion as he spent sleeping, and he yawned his way through the first few hours of the next morning. When it was finally time to leave, he informed Hannes, “I’m going to the farm. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  “The farm?” Hannes sounded surprised.

  “Jah. And no complaints about working alone,” Peter warned, scowling at him.

  “I’m not complaining—especially not after all you’ve done for me, bruder. I just didn’t think you’d be so eager to go back there now that harvest is over.”

  Realizing he’d been short with Hannes because he was anxious about talking to Susannah’s grandfather, Peter said, “There’s one last thing I need to discuss with Marshall. It’s too important to wait.”

  Hannes clapped him on the shoulder. “Whatever it’s about, I’ll be praying the discussion goes smoothly.”

  That’s another gut change in Hannes’s attitude this last year, Peter thought. And for that reason, he gladly would have agreed to work on Marshall’s farm for five harvest seasons...provided he didn’t have to give up his courtship with Susannah.

  Thankfully, when he got to the farm, he spied Marshall pacing very slowly in front of the barn, and the boys and Lydia were nowhere in sight. Whether or not the old man was surprised to see him, Peter was too nervous to notice. He greeted him and then launched into the speech he’d practiced several times on the way there.

  “As you know, even though we were shorthanded and I had to do all the loading and transporting alone, we finished the harvest yesterday—”

  He’d barely begun speaking when Marshall interrupted him. “Jah. You’ve held up your end of our agreement to bring in the crop. Denki. The buwe will take care of winterizing the equipment and any outstanding cleanup. There was no need for you to return to the bauerei.”

  Despite Marshall’s rare expression of gratitude, Peter understood he was being dismissed. But he wasn’t leaving until he asked what he’d come there to ask. “Actually, there is a reason for me to return. I’d like you to consider whether I’ve been a gut steward of your farm and—”

  Susannah’s grandfather seemed to anticipate what Peter was going to say and he interrupted him again. “You’ve fulfilled your obligation to bring in the harvest. That was what you agreed to do, plain and simple. You also agreed not to court Susannah and I’m holding you to that, too.” He started shuffling toward the house.

  Isn’t he even going to listen to what I have to say? Knowing this was his only chance to make Marshall reconsider their agreement, Peter was determined to speak his piece. He overtook the farmer within three strides and planted himself in his path. Staring him down, he announced, “I love Susannah and I believe she loves me.”

  Marshall’s face didn’t register any emotion, but he teetered ever so slightly, then growled, “Get out of my way and off of my property, suh.”

  Defeated, Peter stepped aside. How could anyone be so hardheaded? So hard-hearted? Peter’s own heart was shattered and it took all of his strength to drag himself back to the hitching post. Before he could untie Pepper’s lead, he spotted a buggy approaching. Knowing what he had to do, Peter waited for Susannah to stable her horse.

  “Hi, Peter,” she sang out when she emerged from the barn. “What are you doing here?”

  He stammered, “I—I have to tell you something.”

  “It must be important if you left your workshop in the middle of the day,” she said coyly, inching closer to him.

  Aware he was about to crush her feelings the way Marshall had crushed his, Peter stiffened his posture and backed away from her. “It is important.” He licked his lips. “And it’s not easy to say. But I—I shouldn’t have asked to court you last evening.”

  The color drained from Susannah’s face and her eyes and lips drooped as the gravity of his words settled over her. “You don’t want to be my suitor?”

  I want to, but I can’t, Peter inwardly wailed. Aloud, he apologized, “I’m sorry, Susannah, but neh.”

  “Why not?” Her tone was surprisingly gentle.

  Forcing himself, he said, “I don’t think we have a future together.” Only because Marshall won’t allow us to have one.

  “But why do you think that?” When he didn’t answer, she persisted, “Is it that you’re worried about your mamm’s condition?”

  “Her condition?”

  “Jah. It’s my understanding that she may be suffering from depression. But you must know by now that I wouldn’t judge anyone for that. And I’d be hallich to help her any way I can, for as long as it takes.”

  Peter shook his head and closed his eyes before opening them again. “This has nothing to do with my mamm.” Not at this point, it didn’t. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave now.”

  He turned toward his horse, but Susannah grabbed his arm. Her nostrils flared and her cheeks ignited with color once more as she demanded, “If you’re breaking up with me because I’ve gained weight again, then at least be mann enough to say the words to my face.”

  She could have knocked him over with a feather. “What are you talking about? That doesn’t even make sense. You’re a lot thinner now than you were when I asked to court you last summer.” Peter had only meant to point out that she was being illogical, but her features turned as hard as her grandfather’s.

  In an icy voice, she said, “That just proves how attentive you’ve been to keeping track of my weight. Don’t deny it. You broke up with me out of the blue last Grischtdaag when you saw how heavy I’d gotten. And when we embraced last night, you could feel that I’m not that thin. That I’ve been gaining weight again. You’re probably worried I’ll gain back every pound I’ve lost.”

  Peter was so affronted by her accusation, his voice rose when he asked her, “Are you kidding me, Susannah? The only person paying that much attention to your weight is you.”

  Thrusting her chin in the air, she challenged, “Okay then, tell me exactly why you don’t
think we’re a gut match or why we don’t have a future together.”

  Peter was tempted to say “Because your groossdaadi is as wrong about me as you are, that’s why.” But he couldn’t; he’d given him his word. Besides, it wouldn’t be worth it. If Susannah truly believed he was the kind of man who valued her appearance over her heart, then maybe they weren’t a good match for each other. And to think, less than five minutes ago, he’d claimed they loved each other. He looked at the ground and shook his head in disappointment and frustration.

  “I knew it,” Susannah uttered with disgust when he remained silent. “You showed me your true colors when you broke off our courtship after Grischtdaag. I should have paid attention to what you were like the first time.”

  “Well, if you had shown me your true colors the first time we courted, I never would have asked you a second time!” Peter countered. Then he got into his buggy and left the farm so quickly a cloud of dust rose in his wake.

  * * *

  “Are you ill?” Lydia had asked after the lunch dishes were done and Susannah announced she needed to go take a nap.

  “Neh. I’m just tired. Those last three days of picking potatoes without Benuel on the crew wore me out. I’ll be fine once I’ve had some rest,” she claimed, heading down the hall.

  Susannah had managed to keep herself from crying during their meal, but she couldn’t hold back her tears for one more second. She closed her bedroom door and flung herself facedown on the bed, crying into her pillow as she relived the conversation she’d had with Peter near the barn.

  How could I have been so naive as to think he truly liked me, inside and out? she lamented. I should have been schmaert enough to learn my lesson the first time. Not to mention, her grandfather had tried to warn her not to consider Peter as a suitor. Instead, she’d listened to Dorcas and Lydia. She had believed what she’d wanted to believe: namely, that Peter was as smitten with her as she was with him.