by Lyn Cote
So many strangers! But she must face them for Ida Mae’s sake. She straightened her shoulders and glanced into the back seat to give her sister a reassuring smile. There was nothing frightening about attending the Sabbath meeting.
Ida Mae gave her a weak smile in return. “I’ll be all right. After all, we already know the ladies we met at the quilting last week. The rest will soon become friends, too.”
A boy stepped forward and grasped the horse’s bridle. “I’ll take care of Chester for you, Aunt Sadie.”
“Denki, Stephen.” Sadie climbed out of the buggy. Mary joined her, with Ida Mae right behind. “You’re growing up so fast. I remember when your mother had to pull you out of mud puddles at Sunday meeting.”
Stephen laughed, his voice slipping down to a deep bass and back up again. “That was a long time ago.”
“Not to me, young man. The older I get, the faster time flies. You’re a fine man, just like your father.”
Sadie grasped Mary’s arm to make sure she had her attention. “Here come the Lapp sisters, Judith and Esther, who you met at the quilting last week,” she said. “That’s their brother, Samuel, driving. They’re our next-door neighbors.” She leaned closer, dropping her voice. “And Mary, Samuel is a bachelor.”
Mary shook her head. “I’m not looking for a husband.”
“You never know what the Good Lord has planned.”
Mary knew what the Good Lord had planned, and it was clear to her that marriage had no part of whatever He had in mind.
The Lapps’ dusty buggy pulled up next to theirs and two young women jumped out. The man who was driving barely waited until they had stepped down before he started his horse forward to the buggy parking area. But just then Aunt Sadie’s horse stepped sideways into his path.
Mutters and growls came from the buggy as it rocked under the weight of the man who jumped to the ground from the driver’s seat, nearly landing on Sadie. He caught the older woman’s arm to steady her.
“Sorry, Aunt Sadie.” He waited until the older woman was stable again, then grasped his horse’s bridle. “If someone hadn’t left your buggy in the middle of the drive, I could have been out of the way by now.”
“We just got here ourselves, Samuel,” Aunt Sadie said. “There’s no need to be in such a hurry.” She turned to Mary with a satisfied smile. “I’m sure you and Mary will be able to straighten out the horses.” She took Ida Mae’s arm. “Let’s go inside. I’ll need your help.”
Ida Mae gave Mary a helpless look.
“Go on in.” Mary lifted her chin with confidence she didn’t feel. “I’ll be right there.”
“It’s going to take hours to get this mess straightened out.” Samuel gestured toward the road where a buggy had just turned in, with another close behind it. “It’s becoming a real log jam.”
“Once I get Chester off to the side, things will clear up.” Stephen took the horse’s bridle and led him down the drive toward the barn, patting his brown neck.
As the buggy moved out of the way, Mary found herself face-to-face with Samuel Lapp. She felt her cheeks heat as he stared at her with dark blue eyes.
She leveled her gaze, focusing on the front of his coat. He was a solid wall in front of her, a man a couple years older than her own twenty-three years. His closeness sent her heart racing and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. He wasn’t Harvey Anderson. She bit her lip, forcing that thought out of her mind. Samuel was only an Amishman driving his sisters to Sunday meeting. There was nothing threatening about him.
Mary stepped to the side of the driveway so he could move past her.
“I think you can follow Stephen now.”
He didn’t budge.
“The way is clear.”
Ignoring three more buggies that had driven into the barnyard, he still stared at her. Suddenly, his eyebrows shot up as if he had gotten a flash of insight. “You’re that Mary Hochstetter that Sadie’s been expecting.”
“Ja, I am.”
“From Ohio.”
“Ja.”
He ran his hand down his short beard. “You’re not what I imagined when Sadie said you were coming. I thought you’d be older, being her niece.”
“Sadie is actually my mother’s aunt.” Mary glanced behind Samuel’s buggy. Families walked toward the house, voices hushed as they separated into women’s and men’s lines. Stephen and two or three other boys had lined up the buggies in order and were unhitching the horses. The log jam had cleared.
She looked back at Samuel. “I should go in. Meeting is about to begin.”
The corner of his mouth, visible above his short beard, quirked up.
“You’re anxious to be rid of me?”
Now he was laughing at her, maybe even flirting with her. She drew herself up to her full height and looked him in the eyes, lowering her brow in the expression that always sent her younger brothers hurrying to do their chores.
He stepped forward to grasp his horse’s bridle. “You’re not only younger than I expected, but you’re prettier, too.”
Then he winked at her.
Mary stared at him, her fists clenched. What an infuriating man! Gruff and blustery until he found out who she was, as if any new woman he met would fall at his feet. As if she needed a man to run her life.
“Like I said, meeting is about to begin.” She fought to keep her voice even.
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing toward the house. “I’ll be in shortly.”
But under her irritation, another feeling rose. That familiar twisting in her stomach that stole her breath. She swallowed, glancing around. The only other people in the barnyard were a few women on their way into the house. She would soon be alone in the yard with this man.
She shot another look in his direction, one that she reserved for her brothers’ worst crimes, and hurried into the house.
She found a place on a bench next to Aunt Sadie and Ida Mae and took a deep breath, trying to forget that wink. No wonder he wasn’t married. His beard only confirmed that he had given up looking for a wife. Only married men and old bachelors wore beards.
The worship began with a low, soft note sung by a man sitting on the front row. As the tune continued, she recognized the hymn from the Ausbund and joined in the singing with the rest of the community, settling into the familiar worship.
After the service ended, Mary followed Judith and Esther Lapp to the kitchen to help serve the meal.
“I can introduce you to the others,” Esther said as she led the way through the lines of benches that the young men were already converting to tables for dinner.
“I’ll never remember everyone’s names.”
Esther took her arm. “Don’t worry. They don’t expect you to. You’ll learn them all eventually.”
Mary joined in the work easily enough. The meal of sandwiches, pickles and applesauce was similar to what the folks would be having in her home church in Holmes County. Mary opened jars and poured applesauce into serving dishes while the other young women whirled around her, taking the food to the tables as the young men set them up.
“Hello,” said a girl as she took one of the dishes Mary had prepared. “You’re one of Sadie’s nieces, aren’t you? I wish I could have gone to the quilting on Wednesday. I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since I heard you were coming.”
Mary shook the jar she was holding to urge the last of the applesauce from the bottom. “I’m Mary. My sister is Ida Mae, over there helping with the rolls.” She tilted her head toward the counter at the far end of the kitchen.
“I’m Sarah Hopplestadt. My mother said she met you at the quilting.”
Hopplestadt? Mary sorted through the faces in her mind. “Ja, for sure. Isn’t her name Effie?”
Sarah’s face beamed. “It is!” She grabbed the filled serving dish and whirled away. “I’ll be back with some empty dishes for you soon.”
Mary watched her go as she reached for another jar. Sarah placed the applesauce on the table closest t
o the kitchen, in front of an older man. Across from him sat Samuel, red-faced with the tight collar fastened at his throat. He looked as uncomfortable as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
She shook her head at her own thoughts and glanced at him again. His brow was lowered and he kept his eyes on his plate, ignoring the other men around him. The confident man who had given her that exasperating wink was gone. He looked as out of place as she felt. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she remembered how rude she had been before church. He might be a man, but he was also Aunt Sadie’s neighbor. She quelled her shaking stomach. As much as she hated the thought of initiating a conversation with him, she needed to apologize.
As the men talked, their voices carried into the kitchen.
“Vernon Hershberger needs help with his plowing, I hear.” The man sitting next to Samuel spoke, stopping the other conversations.
The man at the end of the table stroked his beard. “Ja, for sure. His leg is healing after his fall last month, but he still isn’t able to get around very well.”
A man on the other side of Samuel, one of the ministers who had preached that morning, gestured with his fork. “We can all help him get his fields plowed and planted. Is Saturday a good day for everyone?”
Beards waggled as the men around the table nodded, but Samuel still looked at his plate.
“What about you, Samuel?” the minister asked.
The man sitting at the end of the table shook his head. “He’s a Lapp. He won’t help.”
Samuel’s face grew even redder. He leaned on his elbows, his hands clenched together, not looking at the men around him.
“I’ll help.” His voice was as low as a growl.
One of the men laughed. “Just like his daed. Today he’ll help, but we won’t see him come Saturday.”
Laughter rippled around the table, and Samuel stood, backing away from the bench. He glared at the laughing faces, then turned to the minister. “I said I’d be there, and I will.”
The minister held his gaze for a long minute as the laughter died away. “I believe you. We’ll look forward to it.”
Samuel nodded, swept his glance around the table again and then went out of the house.
Mary startled as Sarah appeared at her elbow again.
“That Samuel Lapp. I don’t see why the men even invite him to help with the work.”
“Why not?”
Sarah shrugged. “He rarely shows up, and then when he does, he doesn’t do anything but stand around. His father was the same way.”
“Perhaps he has changed. He seemed sincere to me.”
“Maybe.” Sarah picked up two more dishes of applesauce. “But this is a Lapp we’re talking about. Some people never change.”
As the girl walked away, Mary looked up to see Esther watching her. Samuel’s sister had heard every word of their conversation.
“Esther…” Mary stepped across the kitchen and took her arm. “I hope you weren’t offended by what Sarah said.”
Esther plucked at her apron. “Ne. It’s true.” She looked at Mary, her narrow chin set firm. “But what you said is true, too. Samuel isn’t Daed, and he can change.” She glanced at the kitchen door, where Samuel had disappeared. “I just hope more folks come to see that.”
*
Samuel Lapp charged out of the Stutzmans’ house, ignoring everyone he passed. He’d hitch up the mare, find his sisters and head for home. He was a fool to think this morning would be different than any other Sabbath morning that he had attended the meeting.
His steps slowed. When was the last time he had come to the Sabbath meeting? A month ago? Two months? When he reached the pasture gate, he leaned on the post. Several of the horses started walking toward him, but his mare stood next to the water trough, ignoring him and the other horses.
A bay gelding stopped a pace away from him and extended his nose slightly.
“I have no carrots for you.” Samuel spoke softly. Whose horse was this one? He eyed the sleek neck and the muscled haunches. Someone who knew horses and took good care of them.
The words of the men around the dinner table washed over him again. Even two years after his father’s death, the Lapp legacy followed him no matter what he did. No matter how much he wanted to change.
He bent his head down to meet his fist, quelling the sick feeling in his stomach. Why should he even try? Men like Martin Troyer would never let him forget whose son he was. Samuel squeezed his eyes closed, seeing Martin’s pompous figure at the end of the table once more.
Then the minister’s words echoed over Martin’s mocking tone. Jonas Weaver had said he believed him. He expected him to show up to help with Vernon Hershberger’s farm work. The minister’s confidence made Samuel want to follow through with his promise.
But Daed had burned too many bridges with his habit of promising help that he never delivered, and he was guilty of the same thing.
His father had lived on the edge of being shunned and put under the bann. How many times had the deacons stopped by the farm to talk to Daed? To reprimand him? And then he would promise to do better. He’d take the family to meeting for a month, maybe two. He’d promise to join in the community activities. He’d promise to stop the drinking…but then forget his promises.
Samuel rubbed his hands over his face. Could he face Martin again? Not when this slow burn continued in his stomach. The world was full of Martin Troyers who would never let him come out from under Daed’s shadow.
He leaned on the fence, watching the horses. They had lost interest in him and had gone back to cropping the grass.
When Bram had returned home after living in Chicago for twelve years, he had been able to avoid Daed’s legacy. His older brother had escaped the shame of the remarks and pitying looks and Samuel envied him.
The envy was worse than the shame.
When people spoke of Bram, respect echoed in their words. Respect Samuel had never heard when people spoke of their daed…or him.
As much as Samuel wanted to prove to the community that he wasn’t the same man as his father, he had fallen short. Nothing he said made any difference. They treated him the same way they always had, as if a man could never change.
That girl with the brown eyes, Mary, was different, though. New in the community, she knew nothing about his past. Nothing to make her judge him. Perhaps if he could do something to earn her respect, the rest of the community would follow.
Samuel rubbed at his beard, remembering how Mary Hochstetter had stood up to him before church. If he could earn her respect, he wouldn’t care about anyone else’s opinion.
He picked at a loose sliver of wood on the fence post. It broke off and he stuck it in his mouth to use as a toothpick.
“Samuel?”
The woman’s voice came from behind him. Unfamiliar. It wasn’t Judith or Esther.
“Samuel Lapp? Is that you?”
He straightened and turned, facing this new challenge. But when he saw Mary Hochstetter standing next to the wheel of the last buggy in line, watching him, he felt his tense face relax into a smile.
“Ja, it’s me.”
She twisted her fingers together.
“When we met this morning, I was very impolite.”
“Forget it.” The words came out rough, and he cleared his throat.
She ran her hand along the wooden buggy wheel, brushing off a layer of dust. “I let myself form an opinion of you without learning to know you first. Sadie says I should be careful not to judge a book by its cover.”
She smiled then, still watching the dust drift from the buggy wheel into the air. His heart wrenched at the soft curve of her lips.
“I wasn’t very polite, myself.”
“You were fine. I mean, you didn’t do anything—” Her face flushed a pretty pink. “I mean, you were friendly.” Her face grew even redder. “Except for…when you winked… I mean, I’m sure you didn’t mean to be forward.” She bit her lip and turned away.
Samuel res
isted the urge to step close to her, to cover her embarrassment with a hand on her arm. “I think I know what you mean.”
“I heard what you said in there.” She tilted her head toward the house in a quick nod. “I think it is wonderful-gut that you want to help with that poor farmer’s work. In Ohio, the community always works together when one family is having trouble.”
He felt a flush rise in his cheeks at her words of praise. “We do that here, too.” He couldn’t look at her face. If she had heard what he said, then she had also heard the derisive remarks from the other men.
“That’s good.”
Samuel dared to raise his eyes, but she was fingering the buggy wheel again. As another little cloud of dust drifted to the ground, she glanced at him and smiled. “I must go help wash the dishes.”
Mary walked back toward the house, turning once when she reached the center of the yard to give him a final glance. Samuel raised his hand in answer and leaned against the fence post behind him. She opened the screen door and entered the covered porch, disappearing from his view.
Samuel scratched his beard, running his fingers through its short length. Sometime after Bram had come back last year he had stopped shaving. A clean chin had been a sign of his single status, but last fall he had stopped caring. Stopped thinking that what he looked like mattered to anyone.
But now, his insides warm from Mary’s kind words, he suddenly cared what she thought about him and his farm. Maybe he could earn her respect. Maybe he could hope to move out from under Daed’s shadow and become a member of the community the way Bram was.
He tugged at his whiskers, watching the screen door that had given a slight bang as Mary had disappeared. He tugged at the whiskers again. Maybe he would shave in the morning.
*
“Who would think that two nice girls like Judith and Esther would have a brother like that?”
Ida Mae leaned her arms on the back of the front buggy seat and tilted her head forward between Mary and Aunt Sadie.
All three of them were tired after the long Sunday afternoon at the Stutzmans’, but they had enjoyed a good time of fellowship. All of Mary’s fears had been for nothing. This new community had welcomed them with open arms.