Holding a Tender Heart

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Daett looked at his popcorn bowl for a long moment before he sighed. “Okay, then, but don’t come crying to me when you find out what a mess this boy is, Verna. You’ll have to heal up from your own wounds.”

  Verna felt a flush spread over her face.

  Daett turned his attention to his popcorn.

  Just like that, she’d won.

  Mamm motioned with her hand toward the kitchen.

  Apparently it was best if she disappeared for a while. Verna dashed off before another word could be said.

  Ida met her in the kitchen, and the two hugged each other and danced a silent jig on the kitchen floor.

  A small victory had been won, Verna told herself. They both knew it, and her sweet sister rejoiced with her.

  “It’s really going to happen!” Verna whispered in Ida’s ear.

  “He’ll be so wunderbah for you,” Ida whispered back and then did another little jump before they both collapsed into the kitchen chairs.

  Six

  Later that evening, after the hymn singing had closed at nine o’clock, Verna slipped out the washroom door. She fell in with the line of girls who waited on the sidewalk for their rides. No one seemed to notice anything unusual about her, but she was sure they would soon hear the pounding of her heart. Here she was at twenty-four years of age, and a man would soon take her home for the first time.

  She hadn’t imagined things would turn out this way. Not while she was growing up, at least. A bishop’s daughter was supposed to bring suitors out of the woodwork. At least that’s what her girlfriends from schooldays had whispered at recess when the talk turned to boys. But no one had counted on Daett’s unreasonable fear. Even tonight he hadn’t let up.

  He admonished Verna before she left for the hymn singing, “Don’t be too easy on the boy now, Verna. You can always tell him he’s not coming back.”

  Lois, who overheard, had appeared ready to fire back some retort, but she must have decided against it. This added fuss over Joe would do nothing to ease Lois’s negative feelings on all things Amish. If he really wanted Lois to simmer down, Daett would have to lay off his objections over such an innocent thing as a boy taking a girl home. That happened all the time. Unmarried men were supposed to take eligible women home from hymn singings.

  Of course, dating wasn’t all innocence and fun, Verna told herself. It could lead to kisses, and promises, and finally to marriage vows. Those would bind you to one man for the rest of your life, which was exactly what she wanted. And why Daett couldn’t see that was beyond her. She would have to continue to work on him. He had to lighten up if she wanted Joe to ask her home again. And she already knew she did even before his buggy approached the walkway.

  Girls climbed like shadows into the buggies, many of those pulled by prancing horses. This was the early crowd, the steadies who were in a hurry to get on the road and spend time with each other. That explained why no one paid much attention to her yet. But before long someone would notice she hadn’t headed toward the barn like usual to get her horse. The Beiler youth drove two buggies on Sunday evenings. Emery should by rights drive his three sisters in the larger surrey because they couldn’t all four fit into a single buggy. But Emery had always refused. He said no one would see him drive a married couple’s buggy until he was married. So his sisters had given up the argument years ago, and they drove a single buggy themselves. Emery was worse than Daett when it came to stubbornness.

  Tonight Lois would leave with Ida for the drive home, and Emery could ride alone as usual. That was suitable punishment for him, but likely Emery was happy for any time spent without his sisters. Some boys were that way, Verna supposed, and no one could do much about it.

  Would Joe be like that? Verna asked herself as his buggy drove up. She hadn’t thought that far, but what did it matter? Wasn’t she used to stubborn and cautious men? Perhaps Da Hah had prepared her for marriage to such a man. “Gut evening,” Verna said as she pulled herself up to the seat of the open buggy.

  “Gut evening.” Joe’s voice was firm but kind.

  He doesn’t sound fearful or stubborn, Verna noted. But this was way too early to tell. Right now all that mattered was a man was taking her home from the hymn singing, and she was going to soak in every minute of the experience.

  Joe’s horse dashed out of the lane and onto the blacktop road. Joe offered her a share of the buggy blanket.

  She took the edge, and tucked it between herself and the side of the buggy. Verna stole a quick glance at Joe. She couldn’t see the features of his face in the night shadows, and she shouldn’t stare up at him anyway. He might think her too forward. Perhaps Rosy had acted like that during their two years of courtship. If Rosy had, Verna wanted no reminders of her in his head tonight. Verna quickly pushed those thoughts away. Thoughts of Rosy weren’t wise at the moment. That woman was in Joe’s past and would stay there if she had anything to say about it.

  “What’s the name of your horse?” Verna asked. Her voice didn’t tremble. Gut. Joe didn’t need to know how much her heart was pounding.

  “Isaiah,” Joe replied, sounding surprised.

  “Isaiah!” This came out more exclamation than question.

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “I…I just hadn’t heard that name before used with a horse,” she managed. “Usually our kinner have such names, not our animals.”

  His laugh was soft. “I thought the name the Englisha from the racetrack gave him was wrong, so I changed it once I arrived home. I guess he just looked like an ‘Isaiah’ to me.”

  “What was his Englisha name?”

  “Red Lantern.”

  Verna joined his laughter. “I suppose that wouldn’t be a decent name, although I’ve heard worse from racetrack horses. Emery claims he once bid on a “Dainty Rose.” Now imagine an Amish boy with such a horse. We teased Emery about it for a week, so he never told us any names from then on.”

  Joe slapped the reins gently against Isaiah’s back. “Thankfully we’re allowed as a people from the community to see things our own way. And not just with horses. We can thank Da Hah each day of our lives that we live in a country that allows us freedom without forcing their ways on us.”

  “That’s so true,” Verna agreed at once, thinking how spiritual Joe must be to work in a comment like that. That should impress Daett—once she had a chance to tell him. It might even help Daett get past his fears. But the most important thing was that Joe’s words warmed her heart. He was already a man she could look up to. Any woman who raised kinner with him would find it a great joy indeed.

  She stole another glance at Joe’s face. He looked straight forward as the wind blew across them. The silence was comfortable enough, which was another gut sign—as if she needed one. Already she liked Joe a lot.

  Joe seemed to know where their driveway was in the darkness. He took the turn without slowing down too much. He stopped by the hitching rack and jumped to the ground with the tie rope already in his hand.

  Joe was also efficient. Why had Rosy let this man get away from her?

  With Isaiah tied up, Verna stepped down from the buggy and led the way to the house. She paused at the porch and motioned toward the swing. “Do you want to sit out here for a while?”

  “Sure!” Joe plopped down without further ado.

  They couldn’t see each other’s faces out here, but that wasn’t Verna’s real reason for the request. The others of the family would soon traipse past and stare at Joe like he was a novelty from an Englisha zoo. Which he kind of was—the first man any of the sisters had brought home. Maybe next Sunday night she’d let them get a better look at this man of hers.

  “Nice weather tonight,” Joe said from his side of the swing.

  “Yah, it is,” Verna agreed. She was more interested in the buggy lights coming down the lane at the moment.

  Joe also looked in that direction. Laughing voices floated across the lawn as Ida and Lois pulled in behind Emery, and the three young people unhitched t
he two buggies. Joe stood. “I should go help.”

  Verna reached up and pulled down on Joe’s arm. “There are plenty of them; they can handle it. But it’s nice of you to offer.”

  He sat down again.

  “We’re here on the porch!” Verna sang out, triumph in her voice, as her two sisters approached.

  “What is this?” Lois teased looking at Joe. “Where can I find myself one?”

  “You can go look for yourself,” Verna shot back.

  They all laughed, including Joe, who rose and greeted the arriving girls with a “Gut evening.”

  “Run along now,” Verna told the two once they returned Joe’s greeting.

  “Well, then, have a nice evening,” Ida said, obviously impressed. Ida would have been impressed regardless of who sat on the front porch swing with her eldest sister. The two younger sisters went inside and shut the door.

  Someday Ida will find a decent man, Verna thought as silence settled around them. She would pray and do her part. She would make her relationship with Joe a model of perfection. That way Daett would have no reason to deny either Ida or Lois the attentions of eligible Amish boys.

  Moments later, Emery hollered a “Gut evening,” as he went by. He paused just long enough to add, “Are you behaving yourself, Verna?”

  Joe chuckled and Verna glared into the darkness after Emery. “Stop teasing, and get up to bed!” she said. She’d had enough of her family for this evening—as nice as they were. It was now safe to go inside once the sound of Emery’s footsteps faded. Verna rose and held open the front door. Joe followed without a word of protest. He took off his hat once they were inside and placed it on a wall hook behind the door that Verna showed him.

  “You can sit on the couch while I get us something to eat,” Verna said with a smile.

  The soft glow of the kerosene lamp filled the room as he returned her smile. “You don’t have to bother. I had supper.”

  “Oh, come on!” she teased as she made a funny face. “Not even a piece of shoofly pie?”

  “Now that I can’t resist!” Joe sat down with a pleased look on his face.

  Verna scurried toward the kitchen. Her neck burned red from the pleasure of a correct guess on the first date. Not all boys liked shoofly pie, even though it was a common enough dessert in Snyder County. Emery was one of those who didn’t. He claimed he couldn’t stand the sight of it.

  Thankfully the kitchen was empty. If either Ida or Lois had stayed downstairs unnoticed, she would have chased them upstairs at once. No one need eavesdrop on this her special night. Verna slid two pieces of pie onto plates and filled two glasses with milk. She was on the first trip to the living room when Emery came back downstairs.

  He wrinkled his nose when he saw what she carried. “Yuck! I’d go straight home if I had to eat that kind of stuff.”

  Verna gave the piece of pie and a glass of milk to Joe.

  Joe looked at Emery and laughed. “Come on now! Don’t tell me a Snyder County boy doesn’t like shoofly.”

  “Maybe it hasn’t been made right yet.” Emery paused as if taking another look. He shook his head. “Don’t think so. It’s awful stuff.”

  “Get upstairs right now!” Verna ordered as she went back into the kitchen. “I already know your feelings about shoofly pie.”

  “But I’m enlightening Joe with my wisdom,” Emery said, keeping a straight face. “And I need a cup of water.”

  “Get, my lad!” Verna ordered as Emery took his good old time at the kitchen sink with a glass of water.

  Joe still had his grin on when Emery vanished and Verna came back into the living room with her own piece of pie and a glass of milk. “You have an interesting family, Verna,” Joe offered.

  “A little too interesting sometimes,” she said. Thoughts of Daett and Lois flashed in her mind. What would Joe think if he knew all that went on? Well, he didn’t yet, and maybe she could make a favorable impression on him before he found out.

  “Every family has their ways.” Joe took a large bite of pie. He savored it before swallowing.

  He likes the pie! Verna thought. That was another danger when one served a community staple. Every woman had her own touch to pie making. Apparently Joe liked Mamm’s recipe. This evening was such a wunderbah night. And it would only get better, she was sure. Verna glanced at Joe. “So what have you been doing this week other than farming?”

  He didn’t answer right away. He chewed slowly. “Not much. Daett and I went to the Belleville auction on Wednesday, but everything was going too high. We didn’t bring anything home.”

  Why was Joe’s face suddenly turning red? Verna wondered. Had she said something wrong? Or did Joe not like his pie after all?

  Verna took a deep breath. “Did I say something wrong, Joe? Something seems to be bothering you.”

  Joe looked at her steadily and then spoke after a long pause. “I suppose I’d better tell you this. You’ll probably find out anyway. See, I drove a pickup truck around the lot at the auction barn. One of the Englisha boys wanted help. I knew I shouldn’t, but something overcame me for a moment.”

  Verna smiled slightly. “I thought it might be something I had done.”

  Joe appeared puzzled. “I don’t think you could do wrong, Verna. That doesn’t go for me, of course. But I don’t plan to give in to temptation again. When our people drive Englisha vehicles for any reason it can’t look gut. Even if I was just trying to help. I’m sure some of the younger boys saw me too. That’s not gut.”

  That was surely the reason he confessed so easily, Verna thought. As the bishop’s daughter, he figured she’d find out eventually. Daett would find out and might bring it up before long.

  Verna heard a tremble in her voice as she spoke. “It’s okay, Joe. None of us are perfect.”

  He looked relieved and took another bite of pie.

  “I’m glad you understand.” Joe took a long sip of his milk. “This is gut stuff.”

  Verna allowed her pleasure to show. “So tell me, Joe, what else went on at your farm this week? Any exciting stuff?”

  Joe laughed. “I’m afraid nothing too exciting. The pigs are growing…”

  Verna listened and encouraged his chatter about common farm news. She soaked in each inflection and subtle change on his face.

  Midnight arrived soon enough, and Joe rose to his feet. Verna stood up and walked him to the door.

  “I’ve enjoyed this evening, Verna,” Joe said as he reached for his hat. “Any chance I can come back next Sunday night?”

  She wanted to jump up and down with glee like Lois did sometimes, but she lowered her gaze instead. “You’re more than welcome, Joe.”

  “Thank you, Verna!” he said and slipped out into the night.

  She shut the door and then waited by the front window until his buggy lights had gone out the lane.

  “We’re going to make it!” Verna said into the night. “Joe is a gut man, a very gut man.”

  Seven

  On Tuesday afternoon Debbie slipped into her car a little before three and left Destiny Relocation Service’s parking lot. This had been her first day at her new job, and it had consisted mostly of orientation. Things had gone well, and she was off early. Tomorrow work would begin in earnest. Now she had to deal with the beginning of rush-hour traffic. This she wasn’t going to enjoy. As she suspected, she no sooner pulled into an open lane when every vehicle in front of her slowed down. She might get home faster if she took Route 522, so she turned at the next side road.

  Tomorrow she wouldn’t have to rush as much, but tonight she had to arrive at the Beilers’ residence before their suppertime. After she’d practically invited herself to lunch last week, she couldn’t do the same tonight—or even give that appearance. Not with what she wished to ask of the Beilers. Tonight she planned to make her big play, her start into a new life. She was going to ask Bishop Beiler and Saloma if they would consider taking her on as a boarder. No doubt the bishop would find such a request from an Englisha
girl unusual. When such a thing happened, it was usually between two Amish parties or between Englisha people. One didn’t mix things up. That was the problem. But perhaps if she dropped hints of things beyond that…like the fact she wanted to eventually join the Amish faith…the bishop might at least consider her request. But would all that said in one evening be too much? The Beilers were cautious people, not given to sudden moves even though they knew her well. Still, this idea just might work.

  Debbie drove several roads to the north. Finally she turned east on Route 522. Thankfully the traffic didn’t pile up beyond the normal slowdowns caused by Amish buggies. Her thoughts of the evening ahead continued. What many a tourist only dreamed of might turn into reality for her. She already had access to an Amish home—and a bishop’s at that. If things went well, she might even become Amish someday. Now wasn’t that some goal to set? Certainly better than climbing the corporate ladder at Destiny Relocation Services—her mom’s latest wish for her. But here she went again with the wild thoughts that could hardly come true. Joining the Amish faith couldn’t be easy.

  Despite the negative thoughts, Debbie felt her pulse quicken. What if this all worked out? Then she could attend Amish church services. Would Alvin Knepp notice her there? And if he did, how did dating work in the Amish world? There were no cell phone calls between an Amish dating couple, for one thing. And Amish girls didn’t make the first move toward eligible boys. That much she knew. But dating Alvin was too much of a fantasy and too much to hope for. She really shouldn’t even think about it. Besides, Alvin wasn’t the reason for wanting to board at the Beilers’ home.

  Debbie grimaced. If Bishop Beiler caught a whiff of her feelings toward Alvin, the bishop might never give his consent. And she couldn’t blame him. Bishop Beiler would think her motives polluted. But they weren’t. She would join the Amish faith for her own reasons—if she joined at all. Beyond that, finding love would be an added benefit. But love wasn’t what she dared hope for right up front.