“Finished,” Leah announced, handing Ellie the last dress, still warm from the iron. “Now it is time to get dinner ready. Stew and noodles.”
She smiled, and Ellie saw the genuine warmth in her eyes. She was filled with admiration for this woman who ran such a tight ship and seemed to know how to do everything and, equally important, how to handle everyone. An image of Nina Lawrence flashed in her mind’s eye, smiling with pleasure at the sight of her daughter, the way she did every time she greeted Ellie. Their lives were as different as any two lives could be, yet both were so loving.
“Come quickly, now,” Leah said, interrupting her reverie. “We still have to gather a few herbs for the pot.”
Ellie felt as if the women in this house spent practically as much time preparing food as they would if they were running a restaurant. By the time she was done here, if she paid attention, she could be an expert Amish cook. Which would serve no purpose whatsoever in her life.
The sun was high in the sky when Ellie, Leah, and Katie went to work in the garden after the midday meal, each carrying several empty bushel baskets. They left Rachel inside, sitting by the window, her head bowed over a large, rectangular quilt. It was, she explained to an admiring Ellie, a pattern known as Sunshine and Shadow, with a wide border surrounding small bright squares stitched together to form a series of concentric diamonds.
Outside, it was probably close to ninety degrees. Ellie had on a baseball cap and sunglasses, and forced herself to leave them on even though she felt silly next to the other two, who had only their thin white kapps as protection against the sun. Leah directed Ellie and Katie to pick tomatoes and zucchini, which were planted next to each other, while she gathered lettuce in another section of the garden.
Ellie stopped to inspect the first tomato plant she came to, and tentatively grasped a large, deep red tomato. She gave it a yank, but the plant refused to cooperate.
“It’s embarrassing,” she confided to Katie, who stood nearby, “but I’ve never done this before.”
“It works better if you twist it a bit,” the girl offered.
Ellie followed her instruction, pleased to see the tomato come right off the stalk into her hand. “So heavy,” she said, moving her hand up and down slightly to illustrate its heft.
“Do you want to eat that one? I always like to eat the first one I pick at the start of the season. And this is your very first one you picked, ever.”
“It’s okay?”
“Oh, yes. We have lots of them.”
Ellie rubbed it against her shirt a few times, then took a bite. It was warm, fragrant, and delicious.
“Wow, that’s incredible. This must be what they mean when they say a tomato is meaty. I never quite understood that before. This has to be the best tomato I’ve ever had.”
Katie looked curious. “Don’t your tomatoes taste like that? It’s just a regular one.”
“No, they don’t. I guess what I usually buy in the store is from some other country or someplace far away. It’s probably been shipped for days. I mean, I’ve had really good ones like this, but those are the exception, not the rule. It’s fantastic.”
“I’m glad.” She moved away several feet to attend to the zucchinis, growing close to the ground, hidden beneath huge leaves.
Ellie wondered what to talk about with Katie.
“Your mother makes beautiful quilts,” she ventured.
“Thank you. She is trying to teach me how, but I don’t know if I’ll ever do it like she does.”
“Do you want to?”
“It’s useful to be able to do them well. All skills like that are useful. My mother sells them, but we make them for each other, too. When a girl gets married, she gets them to start her new home.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I know my mother is working on some for me to have when I marry, even though she is trying to keep them a secret. She’s so good at it, they’ll be very beautiful.”
“That will be a wonderful thing for you to have.”
“Do you get something like that when you marry? English families, I mean?”
Ellie added another tomato to the growing pile in her basket. “I guess there are traditions like that. Dishes or something. At this point, people can ask for or get all different things. Not like the quilt tradition, which sounds really nice.”
Katie brightened. “We also get dishes.”
Ellie tried not to smile. “You’re thinking about getting married?”
“Not really. But it isn’t really too many years away, if I find someone I want to marry. First, I have to get baptized, of course.”
“You have to be baptized before you get married?”
Katie paused in her task, trying to figure out how to explain. “You have to be baptized to be Amish, and then you could marry to start an Amish family. That’s how it goes, in that order.”
“Ahhh, I see.”
“My parents were baptized, and then got married right after that.”
Ellie knew nothing of Rachel’s husband, but she hesitated to ask anything about him. She didn’t want to pry.
“My father was Jacob Yoder. He died of cancer.” Katie spoke matter-of-factly, as if reciting a list. “He and my mother had a farm, but after he died, we came back here to live with my grandparents and great-grandparents.”
This was what Ellie had been told by her parents in New York, after Rachel had visited them. The information had been merely factual then, but today it seemed personal, and she felt a surge of sorrow for this child beside her. One day, she was living on a farm with her young parents, and, the next day, everything changed.
“I’m so sorry about that. Your father, I mean.”
Katie kept her eyes down. They continued working in silence. Ellie was intrigued by the maturity of this child. She was so open and direct with adults, but there was nothing rude about it. In fact, it was disarming. She also did what she was told without question or protest. Rachel’s sister Sarah had much younger children, but they were also remarkably well behaved.
Ellie added the last tomato she could fit into her basket without toppling the lot of them. “I think I’m about done here.”
Katie looked up and nodded. “I’ve got some more to get.”
“What will your grandmother do with all these tomatoes?”
A shrug. “Lots of things. She likes to make big slices, just to eat by themselves. Those are good with everything. And she puts them in tomato sauce, and soup. Oh, and salad.”
“You could make a hundred things, I guess. They’re so good.”
“You should eat with us more if you like our food. I’m sure that would be okay with everyone.” She smiled in encouragement.
Ellie had to resist the urge to give the little girl a hug. She was, after all, still something of a stranger, and it might not be all right for her to be demonstrative. Given the complexities of the situation, it might never be all right, especially in Rachel’s view. But her heart melted at the generosity of Katie’s spirit and her sweet nature. Were all Amish children so loving? Had Rachel been like this as a child? Before she could stop herself, the question popped into her head: Am I looking at an alternate version of myself, if I had been raised here as I was supposed to be?
Later that afternoon, Ellie was in the kitchen chopping up vegetables for the evening meal’s salad when the door opened and Judah stuck his head in. Leah, preparing to make macaroni and cheese, turned to her eldest son.
“Yes?”
“Dad and I must go talk to Lonnie. Grandma is also going so she can see Laura. Ellie, do you want to come, too?”
Ellie turned to Leah. “That would be great. Is it okay if I leave you with this work, though?”
She nodded. “Go. You need to spend some time with your sister Laura.”
“We’re ready to leave. We will wait for you outside.” He was gone.
“Thank you.” Ellie began to clean up.
“Stop. I can do that. Don’t make them wait.” Leah made a shooing motion
.
Ellie hurried outside to see Judah helping his grandmother into the buggy, a sleek, dark brown horse harnessed to it. The front seat folded down so passengers could get into the back. Judah gestured for Ellie to get in next to Hannah. When the women were inside, he flipped up the seat, and he and his father got into the front. Isaac took the reins and gave a quick click of his tongue, which signaled the horse to take off at a gentle trot.
Ellie smiled at Hannah before taking a look around. The buggy, black with a gray covering, had just a few knobs and levers in the front, the simplest of dashboards. Its seats were covered in what looked like a sturdy cotton velvet. It was a surprisingly comfortable ride, a gentle jogging up and down, although she supposed it could be pretty jarring on bumpy roads or in bad weather. Today, though, she found it delightful to look out onto the grazing cows and horses, the endless rows of corn, the low farmhouses and their silos.
“What do you think of our farm after living in New York City?” Hannah asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Ellie was embarrassed to realize that she had been rudely ignoring her—my very own grandmother, she reminded herself. “Your farm is a wonderful place. To be honest, I had no idea how little I knew about farming. Actually, not that I knew so little—I knew absolutely nothing. But everyone is being very kind, trying to teach me.”
“And what about everything else?” She gestured to her clothing and the buggy. “Can you imagine this as the place where you grew up?”
Ellie smiled, appreciating Hannah’s directness. It reminded her of the people she worked with. Although, she reflected with a frown, their directness was often unkind, in the service of some other, hidden agenda. Here, it seemed, what you saw was what you got.
“If I’d grown up here, I would call you Grandma,” Ellie said. “I think I would like that.”
Hannah laughed. “A good answer. But, surely, you have more to say than that.”
Ellie sighed. “It’s pretty hard to imagine me growing up here. But should I even try to imagine it? At best, it may be pointless. At worst, it might lead to a lot of unhappiness.”
Hannah put a hand over Ellie’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I should not have asked that. I don’t want to make you sad. We have each day that we are given, and we must live it as best we can.”
Ellie had never lived a single day, perhaps not a single moment, she realized, thinking about the day she had been given. She was too busy thinking about the day to come. The challenge to come, the client to come. The failure to come.
“Here we are,” Judah said, as his father turned the buggy onto a paved driveway, leading to a white house with green shutters, so similar to the other Amish homes she had seen. “This is where Laura and Lonnie live.” He pointed to a much smaller white building over to the left. “And that’s his shop, where he builds the furniture he sells.”
As the buggy pulled up to the front of the house, Laura came outside, barefoot, in a green dress beneath her black apron. The men jumped down before helping Hannah and Ellie out. There were greetings all around.
“Lonnie out there?” Isaac jerked a thumb in the direction of his shop.
Laura nodded, and the two men walked off in that direction.
“Come in. I have cookies that are just out of the oven.”
Ellie was interested to see that Laura’s house was remarkably similar to the Kings’, though much smaller. The same type of furniture. A large wooden cabinet displaying china bowls and platters. A calendar and little else in the way of decoration. Steam rose from a large pot cooking on the stove, the fragrance of a meat stew filling the air. Everything appeared spotless.
Laura took some chocolate chip cookies and set them on a plate. “Root beer?”
The three women took everything out a side door, where they settled onto wicker chairs on a screened-in porch. A brown and white cat sauntered over to sit at Laura’s feet.
“Where are the children?” Hannah asked.
“The boys are bird-watching with some of the Smucker children.” Laura said, picking up the plate of cookies and extending them to her guests. “My two eldest. They’re eight and nine. They love bird-watching. My little one is Susie, who’s five. She’s with Lonnie’s sister today.”
Ellie marveled to herself at the way these people took care of each other, as if the entire community was one big neighborhood street, where kids could run in and out of houses, and everyone seemed to look after everyone else’s kids.
“Laura makes candy here on many days to sell at the family’s roadside vegetable stand and other tourist markets,” Hannah said to Ellie. “We should arrange for you to come over when she’s doing that.”
“Oh, yes,” Laura agreed. “Not tomorrow, but the next day I’ll be making it. Would you like to come see? Tomorrow I make noodles. Maybe that would be more interesting to you.”
These women were unreal, Ellie thought, taking a bite of the warm cookie. As if they didn’t have enough work running these busy farms and families, they did all these other things on the side, as if it were nothing. And it was pretty clear they didn’t take classes to learn them—these were skills obviously passed down from one generation to another. Ellie couldn’t think of a single skill her parents had passed down to her. Not that it was their fault, she reflected. That just wasn’t the way their world worked. She learned her skills in school, and it was quite a different set.
“So, Ellie, do you have any questions you want to ask? You’re trying to find out all about us, but there’s a lot to learn.” Laura smiled. “I want to help if I can.”
Ellie laughed. “Only about a million questions.”
“Give me a try. If I can answer them, I will. Anything. Don’t be shy.”
Ellie sipped at her root beer. “Okay, here’s a silly one. How do you get your hair like that?”
It was Laura’s turn to laugh. “That’s easy. We twist the pieces in front tightly. We keep our hair long, but our hairpins are a bit sturdier than yours.”
“Here come Isaac and Judah.” Hannah nodded in the direction of the approaching men.
“Ready?” Judah called out as they got closer.
Laura gestured for them to come closer. “I’m answering questions for Ellie.”
“Do you have any we can answer?” Isaac asked her.
“Here’s one for anybody who wants to take it. How are you able to power so many things without electricity? I’m a little confused.”
“There are several answers to that,” Isaac said. “Some things we can convert from electric to gas power. We also use diesel power.”
“Plus hydraulic or compressed air systems,” Judah put in.
Ellie hadn’t realized there were such sophisticated systems in place. Another example of me patronizing these people, she thought, ashamed. They might choose not to use electricity, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t use their own resourcefulness to get things done. It was more as if they didn’t want to be connected with the outside world, or dependent on it, not that they wanted to live in another century, as they were often depicted.
Ellie got up and, without thinking, extended a hand to Hannah and leaned forward slightly to help her get out of her chair. Surprise flickered across the older woman’s face as she took Ellie’s hand.
Was she being too aggressive for an outsider, Ellie wondered. She hadn’t meant to be presumptuous. It was more that she felt affection for Hannah, the same kind of protective affection she felt for her grandparents in New York.
“What would you like to see, noodles or candy?” Laura asked.
“Both sound good. Whatever day would be easier for you.”
“Fine. We will arrange it.” She smiled broadly. “It will be fun working on it together, and it will go very quickly with two of us.”
Ever practical, these people, Ellie thought. She loved the way they got right to it: Get things done, have a good time but don’t waste effort.
Chapter 17
“Will you tell me now? Please, please, pl
ease?” Katie could barely sit still in her seat.
Rachel held up a finger. “One second, let me just get this bag settled.”
She hoisted their suitcase onto the overhead metal rack and sat down next to her daughter. They soon felt the motion of the bus starting to pull out of the station.
“We’re moving! Where are we going?” Katie held on to her mother’s arm as if to prevent her escape until she answered.
Rachel had been contemplating how to handle this moment since she made the decision to bring Katie to New York. She wasn’t proud of the way she had done this, her motive based mostly on a desire to get away from the farm while Ellie was there. In just the three days since she had arrived, everyone, it seemed, had fallen in love with Ellie. Worst of all was having to watch her mother dote on her. It was as if Rachel came upon the two of them every place she turned, working at something or other, their heads close together, talking, occasionally laughing, engaged with one another to the exclusion of everyone else. Her mother might as well have been a stranger, the way she was behaving. Then there was the way Ellie caught on so fast to everything they taught her. Although no one expected her to, she was up to milk the cows in the morning, and back for the evening milking later on. Leah and she cooked together at every meal. Ellie was everywhere, in the hen house with Katie, feeding the calves, sweeping the house, going to town for supplies with Isaac or Judah. She never appeared tired, and happily dove into each new task, the hesitation of the first day apparently gone for good. Leah never had any criticisms of the way she did a job, either; apparently, Ellie more than met her harsh standards for cleanliness and efficiency. The spillover effect meant that Leah criticized everyone less as well, or perhaps she was too distracted to pay attention to anyone else’s shortcomings.
Rachel berated herself, praying that she would stop harboring such petty, mean-spirited thoughts. Yet she still felt a pang when she saw Daniel teaching Ellie how to play Rook, the card game her family played together on so many nights over the years. Rachel started to wonder if her fears that Ellie would prove to be the perfect Amish woman were coming true. But it was when Katie started talking about how nice their guest was, and how she hoped she would stay on with them after the week was over, that Rachel decided she couldn’t take any more.
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