No. Not just smitten—that was too frivolous of a word. Susannah had wanted to believe that they were...falling in love. She wanted to believe that one day they’d commit their lives to each other. Ha! He wasn’t even my suitor again for one full day before calling off our courtship. Susannah supposed she should have felt relieved that he’d changed his mind so quickly. At least this way she hadn’t had time to get her hopes up even higher before dashing them with the words I don’t think we have a future together.
How could he do something like that—twice—and then have the gall to act as if she was the one who was lacking character? It was all so hurtful and confusing and devastating that Susannah wept so hard her head ached. But even then, she didn’t stop crying until she finally fell asleep.
For the rest of the day and on Friday, too, she withdrew to her room as frequently as she could, only coming out to make and serve meals or to do her other chores. Sometimes she spent her time alone napping, or in prayer. But most often she simply sat on the edge of her bed and stared out the window, with tears trickling down her face.
On Saturday morning, Marshall said he felt good enough to take the boys to the bus station, since they were returning to Ohio. After packing them a lunch and bidding them goodbye, Susannah slipped away to her room. She had just sat down on the bed when Lydia knocked.
“I’m resting,” Susannah called.
Lydia entered, anyway. “Did you say kumme in?”
“Neh. I said I’m about to lie down. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It was true; she’d been awake until almost three thirty...possibly because she’d spent too much time napping on Friday.
“Wouldn’t you rather have a cup of kaffi with me, now that all the menner are out of the haus? Or we could take a walk—I noticed you haven’t been getting as much fresh air lately.”
“Denki, but I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
“Jah. They look a little swollen,” Lydia hinted and Susannah knew her stepgrandmother was aware she’d been crying.
But she just said, “I’m fine. Is there anything I can help you with before I take a short snooze?”
“Neh. I’ve got to start doing more things for myself since you’ll be leaving us on Dinnschdaag.” Lydia frowned. “We’ll be sorry to see you go...and not just because of all the work you’ve done for us.”
Susannah gave her a weak smile. “I’ll miss you and Groossdaadi a lot, too.” But I’ll be relieved to leave New Hope so I won’t have to worry about running into Peter, she thought, just like she had when she first arrived in Maine. Then she remembered tomorrow was a church Sunday, meaning the district would gather for worship in the church building. Her stomach knotted up at the thought of seeing Peter, so when Lydia left the room, Susannah decided rather than napping, she needed to pray.
Thankfully, the next day Marshall suggested they sit on a bench in the very back of the gathering room so he could stand against the wall if his back became sore. Susannah couldn’t see anyone except the row of people immediately in front of her and Peter wasn’t among them. And once the sermons began, she forgot about everything except what the minister was saying. When it came time to prepare and serve lunch, she made a point of staying in the kitchen to set up trays, instead of delivering them to the men upstairs.
When it was the women’s turn to eat, Lydia told her they needed to finish their lunch quickly. Marshall was concerned about having back spasms and he was in a hurry to return home, which was more than fine with Susannah.
A few minutes later, she and her stepgrandmother were almost out the door when they bumped into Dorcas, who appeared positively glowing. “Oh, there you are, Susannah. I’ve been waiting for you. Some of us are going on a hike in the gorge. Do you want to join us?”
Susannah didn’t feel like socializing; besides, she didn’t know who else was going on the hike. For all she knew, Peter would be there, since he loved the area as much as she did. “I can’t... I’m really tired.”
“You should go,” Lydia urged her. “This is one of your last chances to see your friends.”
“Neh. But maybe you could kumme over for lunch tomorrow?”
“Sure. I’ll bring a low-fat dessert,” Dorcas offered.
Before they parted, Susannah whispered, “You look wunderbaar, Dorcas. Did you lose more weight?”
“Not a pound,” she whispered back. “It’s because I gained a suitor.”
Susannah was genuinely happy for her, since she knew Dorcas wanted to be in a courtship. But all the way home she was troubled with misgivings toward Peter and as soon as she walked into the house, she told her grandparents she was going to her room for a nap.
“Wouldn’t you like to do a jigsaw puzzle instead?” Marshall asked.
Susannah was surprised; her grandfather had never initiated a recreational activity, although he often participated when he was invited. Still, she felt too weepy to be around anyone right now. “Denki, but I need to rest.”
“At least take a walk with me around the yard first. My back is tight and I might need to hold on to you for balance. Lydia’s too unsteady to help me.”
So they slowly ambled down the lane toward the mailbox. On their way, Marshall cleared his throat. “Lydia and I are concerned about you. Is something wrong?” he asked.
At first she was going to deny it, but she was so moved by her grandfather’s open display of concern that she blurted out, “You were right to have reservations about Peter, Groossdaadi.” Then she confided about their courtship and the reason he’d called it off twice. Finally, she admitted, “I’m sorry I got angry with you for trying to protect me. I should have listened to you.”
By then, they’d reached the end of the lane and Marshall grasped the split-rail fence with both hands. Red-faced, he bent forward to stretch his back. “You’re right, I was trying to protect you.” He sounded short of breath. “You remind me of your mamm. I wanted Gott’s best for her.”
Susannah understood the connection. “Mamm and Daed may have had their struggles, Groossdaadi, but they were hallich. They felt blessed.”
“Jah. Your daed is a gut mann.” Marshall stood up straight again. “Peter Lambright is, too. They both have a lot more character than I do.”
Susannah felt stung. “How can you say that after what I just told you?”
“Because the reason Peter ended your courtship had nothing to do with you. He ended it because I told him he had to.”
Susannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing as her grandfather described the agreement he’d made with Peter and the conversation that he’d had on Thursday. She felt so hurt and angry and betrayed she could hardly look at her grandfather.
“How could you do something like that to Peter? And to me?” she cried.
“I thought I was doing it for your gut,” he said. “But when I saw how miserable you’ve been and when I reconsidered Peter’s character, I realized I was wrong. I’m sorry, Susannah, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Susannah hesitated before nodding. “Jah, I forgive you, Groossdaadi,” she said. I just hope Peter forgives me.
* * *
“I’m going to take a walk over to the workshop and back,” Peter told his mother as he lifted his coat from a hook near the door.
“Maybe you ought to take a nap instead,” she urged him. “Not that I’m anyone to point a finger, but you’ve seemed more tired these past few days than you did when you were working two jobs.”
Peter hadn’t been tired—he’d been miserable. Dejected. Heartsick. So taking a nap wasn’t going to help. Taking a walk probably wouldn’t help him, either, but at least it would get him out of the house. He didn’t want his cheerless mood to bring down his mother, especially now that she felt so hopeful again.
The nutritionist she’d consulted last week had suggested Dorothy get additional lab work done. When the results came back on Friday
, they indicated she had a form of anemia that was severe, but manageable. Part of her health plan included receiving vitamin B-12 injections. Just knowing that she would receive effective treatment helped boost her spirit even before it was administered.
“Who would ever think I’d look forward to receiving an injection?” she had said, marveling after hearing the news. Although it was a doctor who had made the diagnosis, Dorothy credited the nutritionist for suggesting the lab work in the first place. And she said she never would have gone to a nutritionist if it hadn’t been for her conversation with Susannah.
She was so grateful that on Saturday afternoon she’d baked a pie with the last of the blueberries Eva had frozen from the summer harvest. Dorothy intended to personally deliver it to the farm, so she could share her good news with Susannah. As Peter was leaving the house, she reminded him, “Eva and I won’t leave for another hour. If you change your mind, you’re wilkom to kumme with us.”
“I won’t change my mind,” Peter replied, knowing that neither Susannah nor Marshall would welcome him on the farm. Nor did he want to see them. In time, he’d get over his hurt, but right now, he was still praying about it. And since he could pray as he walked, he meandered on the long road between his house and the workshop for almost an hour. Finally, he decided it was probably time for his mother and sister to leave and he headed into the barn to hitch the horse so they wouldn’t have to do it themselves.
Pepper was friskier than usual and he took the time to brush her coat and mane, hoping that would settle her down. His mother had mentioned last week that she’d had difficulty handling him. It’s too bad Hannes isn’t home or he could bring Mamm and Eva to the farm, he thought.
At that very moment, he heard Hannes’s buggy approaching, so he led Pepper back into his stall. When he came out, he was dumbfounded to see Susannah standing in the doorway. “Hi, Peter.” She tentatively moved closer. “May I speak with you a minute?”
Speechless, he nodded. Although he didn’t have anything else to say, he could at least listen to her.
“My—my groossdaadi told me about the loan,” she began.
Peter immediately saw red. How dare Marshall not hold up his end of the bargain after harping on me to hold up mine. Is he really that vengeful? Or was he trying to make me look bad as a way of ensuring Susannah would never accept me as a suitor? If that was the case, he needn’t have bothered; Peter didn’t have any interest whatsoever in courting her now.
“He shouldn’t have told you—he broke his word. Our arrangement is none of your business and I don’t want to talk about it. You’ll have to excuse me. I’m going inside.” He started toward the door but Susannah blocked his path.
“Please, just listen to me,” she pleaded, her voice quavering. So Peter stood still, allowing her to continue. “He only told me about it because he regrets how he treated you. He knows how much character you have. So do I, and I’m sorry for implying you were superficial. You were right—I was the only one who was focused on my weight. But that was just because I couldn’t figure out what else had changed to make you break up with me...” Susannah covered her face with her hands and dissolved into tears.
So Peter took her by the shoulders and directed her toward a hay bale, where they sat down side by side, just like they used to do at lunchtime. “I can only imagine how confusing and frustrating it must have been for you not to know the real reason. I hope you’ll forgive me for not being more honest from the beginning.”
“Of course I forgive you. It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t tell me—that was part of your arrangement with Groossdaadi.”
“Neh, that’s not what I mean.” Peter looked at his boots, unable to meet her eyes as he told her about Hannes wrecking the SUV and the Englischers demanding immediate reimbursement for the damage. He concluded by acknowledging, “I was trying to protect my bruder and my mamm, but I should have been more honest about why I needed a loan in the first place. I should have trusted the Lord to provide a way to help my familye without hurting you. Without losing you...”
Susannah nudged his shoulder with hers. “You haven’t lost me—I’m right here.”
Peter swiveled his head to see if she was serious. “You’d accept me as your suitor a third time?”
“Jah. I would—and I do.”
Epilogue
“Have you seen my husband?” Susannah asked, surveying the crowded gathering room in the church. She and Peter had been married earlier in the day and the guests were enjoying supper and dessert, but Peter was nowhere to be found. “He said he had to do something outside, but he’s been gone a while.”
“Neh, I haven’t,” Lydia replied as Honor Bawell approached them, carefully balancing a plate of desserts.
“I can’t believe you decided to have peanut-butter pies for your hochzich,” Honor remarked.
Although a small number of Amish brides served large, bakery-made cakes similar to what might be found at an Englischer wedding, most did not. Instead, the Amish made their wedding cakes, as well as an assortment of desserts. Peanut-butter pie may have been included as one of the treats, but it wasn’t usually the main offering, as it was at Peter and Susannah’s wedding.
“It’s my favorite,” Susannah said. “Especially the way Lydia makes it.”
After Honor walked away, Lydia asked, “Have you tasted it yet?”
“Jah. It’s as appenditlich as ever. I was considering having another small slice,” Susannah said. “Denki for making them. And for everything else you did to prepare for our hochzich.”
“It wasn’t difficult—I had a lot of help from Charity, Dorcas, Eva and Dorothy.”
Throughout the course of her treatment during the past year, Peter’s mother had increasingly experienced improvements in her health and mood. Now she claimed she had even more energy than she’d had before becoming anemic. Likewise, Lydia’s wrist was completely mended—although she referred to it as her internal weather vane, because she felt mild pain whenever there was a storm coming.
“I have something to confess,” Lydia whispered. “We used a lower-sugar, lower-fat recipe.”
“I couldn’t taste any difference,” Susannah marveled. “But now I’m definitely going to have a second piece.”
She went to the dessert table and took slices of pie for both her and Peter. Where is he? she wondered, scanning the room. She had endured being separated from him during their one-year long-distance courtship, but she didn’t want to be separated from him on her wedding day, too. When she didn’t see him anywhere among the guests, she edged toward the door and slipped out into the cool November evening. It was too dark for her to see very far and she was about to turn around and go back inside when Hannes came toward her.
“Are you looking for Peter?” he asked, and when she said she was, he led her to where Peter was standing beside a buggy wagon near the hitching rail.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked Peter as Hannes walked away. “And why is this wagon here? You arrived in your buggy, didn’t you?”
Peter chuckled. “Jah. Hannes brought this here for me. Kumme, I want to show you something.” He took the two plates from her hand and set them inside the wagon. Then he climbed up and held out his arms to assist her into it, too.
Handing her a flashlight, Peter told Susannah to point it toward the bed of the wagon. She turned it on, illuminating an octagonal picnic table with separate benches, similar to the one he’d made for the Englischers’ wedding last year. “I made this for you—for us. But I rounded the corners on the tabletop and the benches, so our kinner won’t get hurt if they bump into the ends.”
The words our kinner took Susannah’s breath away. She couldn’t wait to start a family with Peter. “Denki. It’s wunderbaar,” she said. Then she teased flirtatiously, “I notice you didn’t engrave our initials and hochzich day on the table like the Englischers did.”
&nbs
p; “Neh. That would be superficial, when Gott wants us to look beneath the surface.” Peter grinned as she crouched down. Pointing, he told her to shine the flashlight at the underside of the table. Susannah bent down beside him and aimed the beam of light where he’d indicated. She had to tilt her head to see it: Peter had inscribed their full names and today’s date in the center of the table. Springing up, she clapped her hands together.
“I love it,” she murmured. Clicking off the flashlight, she drew nearer to him.
“And I love you.” Peter gently lifted her prayer kapp strings and placed them behind her shoulders. Cupping her face in his strong, calloused hands, he leaned down and kissed her until she was dizzy. She faltered as she pulled away, but Peter slid his hands to her waist and steadied her.
Relishing his touch, Susannah inched closer. “I have an idea. Let’s eat our pie at our new table.”
So they sat side by side in the near-dark atop of the buggy wagon, eating their dessert very, very slowly. And even after it was gone, the newlyweds lingered there a while longer. Because as Lydia had once told them, sweet things were meant to be savored.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story by Carrie Lighte,
be sure to pick up the first book in
The Amish of New Hope miniseries,
Hiding Her Amish Secret.
Available now from Love Inspired!
And look for more Amish romances every month
from Love Inspired!
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Cowboy’s Amish Haven by Pamela Desmond Wright.
Dear Reader,
During a recent trip to Lancaster County, my mother received a coupon to a local market for a free whoopie pie because it was her birthday. The sweet treat was about the size of a salad plate and we divided it among the five of us who were traveling together. In that same market, we also purchased a butternut squash grown on a local Amish farm. Both the dessert and the veggie were so fresh and delicious that I’ve searched high and low to find something of similar quality in my community. So far, nothing I’ve tasted compares to the whoopie pie and squash we had that day. But I’ll keep looking—either that, or I’ll have to return to Lancaster again soon.
An Unexpected Amish Harvest Page 18