by Anna Schmidt
He sounded as if he were delivering a speech, one he had practiced many times.
Greta’s heart sank.
“But,” he continued after drawing in a deep breath, “I have come to a decision.”
“I see,” Greta whispered. “Perhaps Lydia should be present for this?”
He seemed surprised by the suggestion. “Why would...”
“If you are quitting me, then Lydia must know for others will surely...”
“I am not quitting you, Greta. I love you. I am asking you to—when you are ready and certain—to become my wife.”
Greta’s mouth fell open but no sound came out so Luke rushed forward. “As I have said, I realize that our time together has been brief and you may not yet be ready to make such a decision—such a commitment. But I have prayed much on this matter and I truly believe that God is leading me in this. You should take the time you need—days, weeks, even months if necessary—to be very certain of your answer. I will wait. For I know without a doubt that you are the reason I came to Celery Fields. God was leading me to you and even if you see matters otherwise and refuse me, then...”
Greta laid her finger on his lips to quiet his ramblings. “I accept,” she said. “I would marry you, Luke Starns.” She slipped her hands from his and cupped the smooth skin of his jaw. “I will be your wife.”
“You are certain?”
Greta laughed. “Are you?”
“Yah,” he replied, his voice husky as he moved closer. “I am very, very certain.”
In the past he had kissed her or she had kissed him but this time their kiss was shared, each meeting the other’s lips with all the fervor of the decision they had just made. Greta’s heart sang with the pure joy of realizing that everything she had ever dreamed of for herself would now be true, including a life with a man who truly cared for her—loved her. She and Luke would marry and settle together in a home of their own where they would raise a family and live—God willing—many years together. She thought that her heart might fly right out of her body, so truly happy was she.
But when Luke pulled away from the kiss, he seemed once again to be struggling to find the words he wanted to say to her.
“I love you, Luke,” she said softly. She had never uttered those words before and yet they seemed so very right and true now. “I have never found a way to speak those words with—anyone else, but I find them coming so easily now. I love you with all my heart.”
“There are things you must yet know,” Luke said and she did not like the way his voice had taken on a tone of warning. “If we are to be together then you must know everything about my past about my family...”
“Sh-h-h,” she whispered. “There will be time enough for us to each learn all that has brought each of us to this moment. Whatever is past should remain there. I want only for us to look ahead. Oh, Luke, we are going to be so very happy. Please don’t spoil this moment with worries about the past.”
“But it is only right that...”
“Whatever it is that you are burdened with from your days in Ontario, it does not matter. If you love me, then that is everything I need. We will build a life—here.” He said nothing and as they sat in silence for several long minutes Greta could not quell her fears. “Luke? Tell me that you are not having doubts.”
Luke pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “No doubts. Never any doubts.”
Greta settled against him. “Then you will go and see Levi Harnischer first thing tomorrow?” Levi was the deacon of their congregation and as such it was his role to receive the man’s request to wed and then to visit the family of the proposed bride to be sure that her parents—or in Greta’s case, Lydia—and the bride were in agreement.
“Are you saying that you do not wish to wait—to be certain?”
“I am already certain.” She giggled happily. “Levi will be surprised that it is me you wish to marry,” she warned. “Everyone thinks that you and Lydia...”
Luke chuckled as he sat back and pulled her to him, his arm resting around her shoulders. “Yah, no doubt there will be many surprised people.” He sighed with pleasure and gently rocked the swing.
Greta thought she had never before felt so protected nor so certain of what lay ahead for her. “Let’s go tell Lydia,” she suggested.
“It is late and she will be sleeping. Besides, we have much we need to discuss before we share our news with others—even with Lydia.”
“But she will know something has changed the minute she sees my face for I will not be able to contain my happiness, Luke.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come on. We can talk about whatever serious matters you think we must discuss tomorrow.”
“Greta, you don’t understand. Please, you must listen to...”
“Liddy!” she shouted, allowing the screen door to slam with a bang behind them as she and Luke entered the house.
As Greta had expected, Lydia came running from her room, wrapping her shawl around her, her bare feet padding on the wood floors. “What’s happened now?” she asked and then froze in the archway that led from the front room to the bedrooms when she saw Luke standing next to Greta.
“God has spoken,” Greta announced.
“Sister!” With a single word Lydia warned against any blasphemy but then she looked from Greta to Luke and back again. “You are to marry?”
“We are,” Luke replied, “with your agreement.”
“Luke is going to see Levi tomorrow morning first thing,” Greta gushed. “And then Levi will come here tomorrow evening and then... Oh, Liddy, we have so much to do. Do you think we should tell Pleasant? I mean she is family, as well, and...”
“It’s to be soon then?” For the first time Lydia seemed to have some concern. “The wedding?”
“Why would we wait?” Greta asked, fighting to keep her tone light in the face of her sister’s unexpected doubt.
But Luke placed his hand on her shoulder. “Lydia is right to question the suddenness of our decision, Greta.” He stepped forward and faced Lydia directly. “I can only tell you, Lydia Goodloe, that in a very short time I have come to love your sister more than I would have thought myself capable of loving anyone. I find that there is hardly an hour that passes when she is not in my thoughts and I promise you that I will do everything I can to see that she is well cared for and happy.”
Greta watched as Lydia worried her lower lip, a sure sign that she was not completely convinced. “This was your idea, Liddy,” she reminded her. “It has worked out as you prayed. Can you not be happy for us?”
Lydia looked from Greta to Luke and then she walked forward, extending one hand to each of them until the trio had formed a little circle there in the front room. “I am happy for you, Greta. And as for you, Luke, it will be good to have a brother.”
“And I will have a sister,” he replied.
“We must write to your father and brothers at once,” Greta said, pulling free of the circle as she hurried to the desk and pulled out writing paper and a pen.
“There will be time enough for that,” Lydia said. “Right now, we should all get some rest.”
“Your sister is right, Greta,” Luke said as he gently relieved her of the pen and placed it back on the desk. “I will speak to Levi tomorrow—today,” he added as they all glanced at the tall clock standing in the front hallway that was just striking midnight. “Guten nacht, Lydia.”
“Guten nacht, Luke,” Lydia replied as she drew her shawl around her and headed back down the hall. “Do not be out there seeing Luke off for too long, sister,” she warned, but there was a lilt to her voice that told Greta that Lydia did not really care if the happy couple stayed on the porch until dawn.
As soon as Liddy’s door closed with a soft click, Greta gave a soft cry of pure joy and flung herself into Luke’s arms. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” she said, punctuating each declaration with a kiss and filled with the joy of knowing without a doubt that she had discerned God’s plan for her lif
e—and this time she had gotten it right.
* * *
In the face of Greta’s euphoria, Luke decided to postpone the conversation he knew they would need to have about his past. Surely he would be able to make her understand why he had left his home in Ontario to move to Celery Fields. Surely she would see that he had really had no choice. And in the meantime it gave him great pleasure to see her so happy. So early the following morning he drove out to the Harnischer farm and stood in the barn, speaking with Levi Harnischer—the deacon of their congregation. As Luke had expected, Levi Harnischer was taken aback when he heard of Luke’s intention to marry Greta.
“You are already the nervous bridegroom,” Levi teased. “You mean to say that it is Lydia Goodloe that...”
“I have not mistaken my words, Levi. It is Greta Goodloe whom I wish to wed,” Luke said firmly. Then he told Levi how Lydia had come up with the plan to allow Greta and Luke the time they might need to get better acquainted while everyone in Celery Fields thought that Lydia was the object of his affections. “After Josef Bontrager quit Greta, I believe that Lydia was somewhat relieved but that she also felt an urgency to take some action to turn her sister’s head in a new direction. She thought that Josef might realize his mistake and try to win Greta back.”
“As he has,” Levi noted. “So, it is Lydia who set this plan in place?”
“Yah. But she did so with Greta’s full agreement.”
“And you also agreed?”
“Not at first. But then I prayed on the matter and it seemed that with Josef quitting Greta perhaps there was a message in the timing of things. I cannot deny that when I first came to Celery Fields I was drawn to Greta, but she was with Josef and so I turned my attention to Lydia.”
“And she rejected you?”
“She did, as she seems inclined to reject the very notion of marriage for her at all. You should understand that Lydia was quite worried about Greta. She made it clear that she did not necessarily expect the match between Greta and me to be one of true love, but rather one in which her sister could achieve the life that she had always aspired to live.”
“And do you love her—Greta?”
“More than I would have thought possible.”
“And what of her feelings for you?”
“She has said that she loves me in return.” Repeatedly, Luke thought, and could not seem to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“And all of this has come to pass in what—a matter of a few weeks?”
“A little longer than that,” Luke protested but he knew that he was splitting hairs. It had been a courtship of what some would see as a shockingly short duration. “I am not some teenager just coming from his Rumspringa, Levi. And Greta herself is past her twentieth birthday already.”
Levi stroked his beard, still dark like his hair but with hints of gray. “When is this marriage to take place?”
“As soon as possible.” Luke saw the startled glance that Levi gave him and hastened to add, “We are both anxious to begin our life together.”
“I see. You are asking me then to serve as the Schtecklimann—the go-between for brokering this marriage?”
“We wish to do everything properly,” Luke said, “although Greta—and Lydia—have already given their consent. But in the absence of living parents, I had thought that you might call on Lydia and Greta for their assurance that they are in agreement with this plan. Perhaps their half sister Pleasant should be there, as well?”
“I would think so. Pleasant was like a mother to both those girls for some years.” He finished tossing clean hay onto the floor of the stable stalls and turned to face Luke. “All right, I will call on the sisters tomorrow and unless there is something that would prevent this union, I will report to Bishop Troyer and he can publish your intent at our next service.”
“Das ist gut.” Luke tried hard to ignore the dread he felt at the deacon’s words about something preventing the union. Once again, he vowed to himself and God that he would tell Greta the story of his past the very next day.
But as they sat together on her front porch the following evening with a steady rain falling, Greta was anxious to tell him every last detail of the meeting that she and Lydia and Pleasant had had with Levi earlier that night. By tradition, the deacon had arrived after dark. “I suppose that’s in case the parents—or in this case, Lydia—deny permission. That way no one loses face since presumably no one else is aware of the courtship—although that’s unlikely in a place as small as Celery Fields.” She was babbling, but it was born of her excitement and happiness so she hurried on to tell him the rest. “It was all so very serious,” she said with a mock grimace. “As if Levi needed to assure himself that I—that we—knew what we were doing.”
“He was just doing his job as Schtecklimann,” Luke reminded her. “It’s all part of the tradition.”
“I know. It’s meaningless—no more than a formality passed down through the generations. I mean what was he going to do? Tell me not to marry you?”
“That would not be his place.”
“Anyway, once he had gone through the ritual and Lydia and Pleasant had assured him that they approved, he did seem genuinely happy for us. Oh, Luke, we have so much planning to do. I mean if our intent is to be published this next Sunday, there is no time to waste.”
Luke chuckled and stretched his arm across the back of the swing. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I am pretty sure that Bishop Troyer and the others are well practiced at this, Greta.”
“I’m not talking about the announcement itself—there’s the ceremony to plan. We’ll need to allow time for friends and relatives from out-of-town to arrive. But even so, we need to set a date for just a few weeks from now if we are to make the journey north to visit friends and family and still be back in time for the harvest season.”
In the days when they were first getting to know one another, Luke had explained to her how he was busiest during the planting and harvest seasons. Those were the times when the horseshoes and equipment his neighbors used for plowing and harvesting their crops were more likely to need a repair. This year, whatever business he could take in during the harvest season would be especially important since the fire that had destroyed Luke’s business had come at the very height of the planting season, severely limiting his ability to serve his customers.
Greta continued to chatter on about plans for the ceremony and the meal that would follow, but Luke listened only to the lilt of her voice so filled with joy and excitement. He felt such power in realizing that he was the cause of her elation. He was relishing the picture she painted with her planning right up until the moment when she began speaking about their wedding trip.
“Do you honestly think that we can travel all the way to Canada and still be back in time?” she asked. “How long does the train take? And what of the cost?”
“Canada?”
“To see your family, of course. Unless you think they might be able to come here for the ceremony. But you mentioned that your father’s health has not been good so perhaps it’s best if we go there. I can’t wait to meet your father and brothers. Do you think they’ll like me? And what about the wives?”
Luke swallowed. The time had come. In truth the time had passed when he should have told Greta exactly why he had left Canada and moved to Celery Fields. “Greta, we cannot include my family in this.”
“Why on earth not?” She smiled uncertainly. “Oh, do they do things differently there? I mean is the tradition of a wedding trip not part of...”
Luke closed his eyes against the understanding that the moment he had dreaded for days was at hand. He had allowed himself to be swayed by Greta’s assurances that there was nothing he could tell her that could possibly change her feelings for him. Yet all the while he had known that indeed there was something.
“Listen to me,” he said sternly. “When I was living in Canada, Greta, there was a woman—two women...” He felt Greta stiffen a
s if she were preparing herself for bad news. “I had passed my Rumspringa—my running around time—and my Dat was urging me to settle down. All my brothers were married already with families of their own and my father was getting along in years. He was already in poor health and it was important to him to see us all settled. He had promised my mother.”
“Did you love these women?” Her voice was dull and carried no hint of her usual enthusiasm.
“Not really—I never thought about the need for love to be a part of choosing a wife, Greta. It was something to be done at a certain stage of life. Admittedly I thought that perhaps the younger one...that in time...”
“What happened?”
“The young woman’s father had other ideas. Like Laban with Jacob, he wanted his elder daughter to marry first.”
“These were sisters?”
“Yah.”
“Like Lydia and me.” Her voice was thin as if her vocal cords were stretched too tight and she did not look at him.
“In some ways, yes. Certainly the elder one was like Lydia in that she had made up her mind that she would not marry. But her father had other ideas and like the story of Laban and his daughters, he was intent on seeing her married.”
“But you and the younger sister...”
“There was nothing there, either,” Luke said softly. “I see that now. At the time I thought that she and I could make a life but that was all there was to it. It was plain that she hoped her sister would agree to their father’s plan.”
Greta edged away from him on the pretense of reaching for a dry leaf that had blown onto the porch.
Luke felt such a sense of panic that it was all he could do not to grab her by the shoulders and force her to face him—to hear him out. “Greta, I am asking you to believe me when I say that even then—before I ever knew you existed—I did not feel for her anything close to what I feel whenever I look at you.”
“Did you kiss her?”
“No. Her father would not permit the courtship.”
“But you would have?”
“I don’t know. I suppose. That’s not the point, Greta. The point is that I did not marry either of them.”