“Whatever it is, God can help.”
Wilma turned her back and stalked away, shaking her head even more emphatically.
Sovilla bowed her head. Dear Lord, please touch Wilma. Help her to accept You and Your love.
When she lifted her head, Isaac came to mind. Her heart went out to him. Did other people treat him as badly as her aenti?
Please, Lord, be with Isaac. Give him your comfort and love.
* * *
Wilma might not realize it, but her voice carried. People at all the nearby stands could hear every word. And each one of her words stabbed Isaac. He wanted to cover his ears or hurry away. Instead, he slowed Snickers and strained to hear Sovilla’s answers.
She hadn’t mocked him. She’d championed him. And most of all, she’d reminded him that he should be grateful God had given him this challenge. Sovilla had said God had a purpose. Isaac had always believed that, but he’d never thought of his stuttering as part of God’s plan.
He mulled that over the rest of the morning. Ever since he’d been a small boy, he’d been ashamed of his struggle to speak. He’d prayed God would fix his mouth and brain. And he’d harbored resentment toward the Lord when his prayers remained unanswered. Now Sovilla had caused him to rethink that.
His brother Andrew rushed toward him. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Isaac gulped. How did he answer that? Before he could come up with a plan, Andrew raced on.
“You got a roll at Fern’s?” He nodded toward the sticky bakery paper in Isaac’s hands. “You weren’t there when I looked.”
“S-sorry.”
“Never mind.” Andrew pushed Isaac toward the door. “The auction’s already started, and our chickens are next. Daed needs you to load them for the winning bidders.”
Isaac scooted ahead of his brother and arrived in time to hear the auctioneer announce “Sold” and point to two Englisch women sitting in the front row.
They high-fived each other. Andrew clutched his arm. “I’ll talk to them to explain the procedures in case they don’t know them.”
Englisch locals usually already understood how things worked, but many Englischers turned out to be tourists. Isaac had never seen the pretty blonde and her dark-haired companion before, so they’d probably need help.
Giggling together, the two women headed for the exit. Andrew waylaid them. “Just making sure you know what to do.”
The blonde smiled. “This is the first time we’ve bid on chickens, but I’m a regular at the produce auction. We’ll go pay for them.”
“Great.” Andrew gave them his own winning smile. “When you get back, my brother Isaac will help you load them.”
Both women nodded at Isaac. “We won’t be long.” They headed for the office.
Andrew slipped back inside, leaving Isaac standing outside the building. He breathed in the familiar air, redolent of animals and people and overlaid with greasy funnel cakes and French fries.
As the market doors nearby swung open, a fishy odor seeped out. An employee from the fish stand carried a bucket of scraps to a covered tin pail outside the door. Birds cawed and swooped. He waved to shoo them off before he emptied his container and thumped the metal lid back into place.
Soon, the women returned with their receipt, and Isaac picked up one of the two chicken crates.
“The truck’s in the parking lot over there.” The woman pointed to an area across the street. “By the way, my name’s Stacey, and this is Diana.”
Isaac sucked in air and blasted out his name in one fast breath. He’d practiced for years to manage that.
“Nice to meet you, Isaac. Do you have a farm around here?”
He sighed inside. Of course he’d gotten stuck with chatty ones. Isaac scolded himself. Stacey was only trying to be friendly. He nodded.
She looked as if she were expecting more. He shifted the squawking chickens to distract her.
It worked. She leaned over and peeked in at the half dozen chickens flapping their wings. “Aren’t they the cutest things?”
Again, Isaac nodded. He’d never considered chickens’ looks before. Only their overall health and egg production. When he was younger, he’d gotten attached to some of the chickens, but he’d soon discovered they’d be sold and learned to hide his feelings.
“I think they’re adorable.” The brunette reached out a hand.
Before she could stick a finger between the mesh, Isaac twisted away. She might get pecked later, but he wouldn’t allow it to happen on his watch.
“The blue truck over there is mine.”
Isaac followed them to the pickup. The brunette lowered the tailgate and motioned to the pickup bed.
Isaac stared at her. She wanted him to let the chickens loose? Did she expect them to roam free in the back of the truck while they drove home? From the way they’d chattered about the chickens being cute, he’d guessed they’d never owned chickens before. But even complete newbies would know chickens fluttered off. They’d arrive home with an empty truck bed.
Then it dawned on him that they might think the cages came with their purchase. If Andrew were here, he could easily explain that they’d only bought the chickens, not the carriers.
Isaac didn’t want to suffer through their pity. He set the container on the ground beside the truck and patted the top of the coop. “M-My c-crate.”
“What?” The brunette’s screech hurt his ears. “We can’t put the chickens in the truck bed.” She eyed the driver’s door.
Was she thinking of putting them in the cab?
Isaac shook his head. They obviously had no idea what a dozen chickens would do in that enclosed space.
“I didn’t know we’d need cages,” the blonde said.
They stared at each other, their eyes wide and confused. Then they giggled nervously.
“You must think we’re crazy.”
He didn’t want to agree with her, but he did wonder at their sanity. Who would purchase a dozen chickens on impulse? Did they even have anyplace to keep them? Or hadn’t they thought about that either?
Although raising chickens was part of his family’s business, he didn’t want any of their chickens mistreated. He’d rather refund their money.
“Could we take the crates home with us? Diana has a nice chicken coop. We could let them out there and bring the containers back. I’m sure we can make it back before the market closes today.”
She appeared trustworthy. Or was it only Isaac’s reluctance to talk that made him give in? He should explain they couldn’t do that. Instead, with a nod, he hefted the crate into the back of the pickup and returned for the other.
If these women didn’t return the traveling crates, replacing them would be expensive. Please, Lord, help them to bring the crates back, he prayed as the blue pickup pulled out onto the road with two crates of chickens inside.
He dragged his feet heading back to the auction, dreading explaining the missing crates to Daed.
Andrew caught up with him first and stared at Isaac’s empty hands. “Where are the crates?”
He stammered his way through an explanation.
“You did that because you were afraid to talk to them, didn’t you?” Andrew glared at Isaac. “It’s time you got over that.”
Isaac lowered his eyes. I’m trying. But who knew how long it would take? Replaying Sovilla’s words gave him hope. God had made him this way for a reason. Isaac just wished God had explained His purpose.
Chapter Seven
All morning long, the warm, yeasty smell of pretzels called to Sovilla. During a midafternoon lull, she turned to her aenti. “Is it all right if I take a quick break?”
“What for?”
Maybe Wilma never got hungry, but Sovilla had skipped lunch, and her stomach kept growling. “I want a pretzel.”
“And just how do you plan to pay for it? You’d better not be stealing from my cash box.”
Sovilla gasped. “Of course not. I have some money
from my mamm.”
Wilma winced at the word mamm. “Oh, go ahead. I’m used to dealing with customers all by myself.” She made it sound as if they were swamped with buyers, but they hadn’t had many people today, and nobody was in line now.
“I’ll be right back.” For heaven’s sake, the pretzels were only two stands away. It wasn’t like Sovilla planned to take off for another state.
At that thought, her heart clenched. It had been several weeks since she’d seen mamm and her sisters, and quite a while since she’d had a letter. She missed them all so much. Staying with Onkel Lloyd wouldn’t have been much worse than being here with her aenti.
As Sovilla started to exit the stand, Isaac walked past with Snickers.
“Did you plan this?” Wilma demanded.
“Plan what?” Sovilla kept her expression neutral. Of course she hadn’t planned anything.
“You’re sneaking out to meet that boy.”
Heat rushed to Sovilla’s face. Why had she responded to Wilma’s question? She’d given her aenti the perfect opportunity to make embarrassing remarks. Had Isaac heard?
Maybe she should wait until he turned the corner and headed down a different aisle. Ach. He’d just joined the line in front of the pretzel stand.
“What are you waiting for?” Wilma demanded.
“That line looks really long.” But if Sovilla didn’t go now, she might not get another chance.
“You’re just upset because someone else got in line behind him.”
“Behind who?” Sovilla tried to play innocent.
“Don’t treat me like a fool. I saw the way you looked at him. And Isaac has never walked his dog past here until today.” She muttered to herself, “Twice in one day, in fact.”
Was she suggesting Isaac purposely walked past here? Sovilla found that hard to believe. “Maybe he needed a change of scenery.”
“Yes, he did. And the only change of scenery around here is you.”
Sovilla pressed her lips together so she didn’t blurt out Don’t be ridiculous. “I doubt he even noticed I’m here.”
“No, but you wished he would.”
It was getting harder to hold back an irritated comment. Sovilla forced herself to take a calming breath. “I have no interest in Isaac or any other man. I have a boyfriend back in Sugarcreek.”
“One who’s forgotten you already.”
As much as Sovilla hated to admit her aenti might be right, Henry hadn’t contacted her. Instead of letting doubts nag at her, she needed to sit down and write the letter she’d been putting off and ask him for the truth.
The only reason she’d delayed this long was because she didn’t want to hear that her hope of moving back to Sugarcreek and marrying Henry had been only a dream. Even if he confirmed her mounting fears, Sovilla had no interest in Isaac. She had no desire to jump into another relationship.
* * *
From the corner of his eye, Isaac saw Sovilla head in his direction. He’d love to turn and watch her approach, but he’d already made the mistake of passing Pickle Lady’s stand.
Wilma’s voice carried, so he’d heard her accusing Sovilla of meeting him. He didn’t want to confirm Wilma’s suspicions or get Sovilla in trouble. Even though she’d barely noticed him, his eyes might betray his interest. He’d like to get to know her, but that would be impossible. Even friendship was out of the question when you couldn’t carry on a conversation.
“Can I help you?” The young Amish girl’s question startled him.
He’d been so busy keeping tabs on Sovilla, he hadn’t noticed the line moving forward. And he hadn’t rehearsed what he’d say when he reached the counter. The pretzel carousel rotated, so he couldn’t point at the one he wanted.
“R-raisin.”
“One?” she asked.
He nodded.
When she opened the warmer and extracted the pretzel with paper, he held out his hand to let her know he didn’t want it bagged. Then he paid and turned.
His eyes met Sovilla’s, and breath whooshed from his chest. He stood there mesmerized until the man behind him elbowed past.
“Do you mind?”
Isaac shot him an apologetic glance and tugged lightly on Snickers’s leash to move her to one side. Sovilla stood three people behind the man. He’d have to pass her.
She smiled at him. “Is cinnamon raisin your favorite too?”
Isaac wished he could do more than nod. He wanted to have a real conversation. But he’d already humiliated himself once today.
Her cheeks pinkened. “I want to apologize for my aenti’s comments this morning. I’m so sorry.”
“I-i-it’s—” A rush of heat climbed from beneath his shirt collar and burned its way to the tips of his ears. Isaac wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault, but he couldn’t get the words out.
Sovilla’s sympathetic glance both melted and embarrassed him.
She spoke softly so that people around them couldn’t hear. “It’s all right. Just relax and take your time.”
Relax? Isaac didn’t only stutter when he was nervous or pressured. He did it all the time. But now that he was face-to-face with Sovilla, how could he help being on edge?
“Being tense can make it harder. When my cousin was little, he stuttered when he was nervous or rushed. My onkel, well, he was hard on Roy. That always made it worse.”
If Sovilla’s onkel was anything like her aenti, Isaac imagined the poor kid must have been terrified. Isaac struggled enough talking to his own loving family. “I-I’m s-sorry.”
“You mean for Roy?”
Isaac nodded. He relaxed a little. Sovilla almost seemed to read his mind.
“You’ve met Wilma, but her older brother, my onkel, is worse. Much worse.” Sovilla clapped a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t be talking about my family that way.”
Isaac laughed. “I-it’s all r-right.”
“Neh, I’ll need to ask forgiveness for that.” She turned her attention to the girl behind the counter. “I’ll have one cinnamon raisin.” She smiled at Isaac. “Yours looks delicious.”
“I-it is.”
“Maybe I should get a pretzel for Wilma. She probably won’t like whatever I choose. What do you think?”
Me? You want me to choose a flavor for Wilma? Isaac shrugged. He had no idea what Wilma might want. But when Sovilla stared at him with pleading eyes, he gathered his courage. “P-plain?”
She laughed. “You’re probably right. Best to play it safe. Besides, if she doesn’t want it, I can eat it myself.”
Isaac smiled. “G-good idea.”
Sovilla ordered a plain one bagged and took the cinnamon raisin one wrapped in paper like his.
For some reason, that made Isaac’s insides dance. Although his whole body and mind were already whirling from talking to her. He’d done it. Carried on a conversation. A conversation with Sovilla.
* * *
Sovilla paid and took the pretzels. As she turned to talk to Isaac again, she caught Wilma’s frantic wave. “Ach, I forgot all about helping my aenti. I promised I’d hurry.”
“S-sorry I k-kept you.”
“Not at all. I enjoyed talking to you, but I’d better get back now.”
Wilma only had three customers, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t berate Sovilla.
She’d enjoyed talking to Isaac and spending time together. Only as a friend. But Wilma had seen them chatting, which would only reinforce her belief that Sovilla had planned to meet Isaac.
“What took you so long?” Wilma frowned at the pretzel in Sovilla’s hand.
She’d been so focused on Isaac, she hadn’t taken a bite. To distract her aenti, Sovilla handed over the paper bag.
“Huh? What’s this?” Wilma held the bag away from her with two fingers as if expecting a snake to emerge and bite her.
“A pretzel. I didn’t know what kind you’d prefer, so I got plain. If you’d rather have cinnamon raisin, you can have mine.” Sovilla extended hers.
Wilma ba
tted it away. “What makes you think I want any pretzels? Did you even ask if I like them?”
“You don’t?” Somehow, no matter what Sovilla did, it always seemed to be wrong.
“I didn’t say that. Don’t go putting words in my mouth.”
Sovilla wanted to turn her back and walk away, but a small part of her remembered those glimpses of vulnerability. Besides, she should be showing Wilma God’s love.
Swallowing her irritation and ignoring her growling stomach, Sovilla held out both pretzels. “If you like pretzels, why don’t you take both?”
Wilma cocked her head to one side. “How do I know you haven’t spit on both of them?”
Sovilla bit back the retort that popped into her mind. “I wouldn’t do that to anyone, and especially not to you. You’re my aenti.”
A glimmer of surprise flickered in Wilma’s eyes, but she flung her hand toward the shelf under the counter. “Just put the bag under there. We have customers.”
Sovilla longed to take a bite of hers while it was hot, but she wrapped the tissue around it, set it on the shelf, and hurried over to wait on a customer. By the time they’d served everyone, her pretzel had cooled. Still, it tasted good.
Wilma acted indifferent as she picked up the bag, but when she thought she’d turned enough so nobody could see her, her face relaxed into enjoyment. It pained Sovilla to think about how much pleasure Wilma denied herself by being grouchy and negative. It was as if she were punishing herself by not allowing herself to like anything or anyone.
Wilma’s gruff “Thank you for the pretzel” startled Sovilla.
Her aenti sounded more grudging than grateful, but Sovilla had seen Wilma savoring that first bite of pretzel. That was thanks enough. And even reluctant appreciation could be counted as a step in the right direction.
Wilma followed this up by frowning at the shelf where the pretzels had been. “You’d better clean up that stickiness. Next thing you know, we’ll have ants and cockroaches crawling everywhere.”
Sovilla smiled to herself as she took out the spray bottle filled with disinfectant and wiped the wooden shelf. Every time Wilma softened a bit, she had to cover it up with a grumpy comment. Sovilla was growing used to her aenti’s ways but prayed God would touch Wilma’s heart.
An Unexpected Amish Courtship Page 6