Romancing Nadine

by Amy Lillard

  “Have you given her chocolate?” Tony asked.

  “No, just banana bread. Oh, and we shared a piece of birthday cake.” If he could call her one bite and his eating the rest “sharing.”

  “What about stuffed animals?” Pete asked. “Every woman I’ve ever known was crazy about them.”

  “Like taxidermy?” Amos asked. Why would Nadine need something like that?

  “No, like a teddy bear,” Tony explained.

  Amos nodded. “Chocolate and teddy bears.”

  “And flowers are always a good idea,” Dan said.

  “I only ever gave a woman flowers when she was mad at me,” Pete said in dispute.

  “That’s why you aren’t married anymore,” Tony countered.

  “Like from a florist or the kind to plant in the yard?” Amos asked. He was having a little trouble keeping up.

  “Roses,” Tony clarified. “Long-stemmed, de-thorned, red ones. Women go crazy for them.”

  “But she’s an Amish woman. You understand that, right?”

  Pete shook his head. “Women are the same all over.”

  “Okay.” But Amos wasn’t entirely convinced. None of those things sounded like anything that Nadine would like. Which was exactly why he’d bought her a can opener for her birthday. Which she had yet to acknowledge other than thanking him before she had even seen what was under the wrapping. When she’d opened it, she must have thought him off in the head. “Chocolate, teddy bears. And roses. Are you sure this is going to work?”

  Tony grinned. “Guaranteed.”

  * * *

  “Hand me that other clothespin.” Nadine reached out a hand and waited for Charlotte to give it to her. They were hanging sheets, the hardest of the laundry days. Nadine would rather wash delicates than the bulky sheets. But it was Monday and the day they normally stripped the beds and washed the sheets. Of course if it was the Monday after a church Sunday, they had to wash their church clothes as well. Their dresses were already hanging to dry under the safety of the porch eaves.

  Church Sunday. Thankfully Nadine had managed to avoid Amos Fisher at their church meeting the day before. Mostly because she begged off stating a headache and she and Charlotte had left early. Though her daughter-in-law hadn’t said a word, Nadine suspected that Charlotte knew that she had been pretending the entire time.

  “There.” Nadine hopped down from the stool and examined her job. The main thing was making sure the sheet would stay in place in the strong Oklahoma wind. That was a chore that wasn’t much different from Kansas. And there was definitely a skill to getting enough pins in place in order to keep the sheets from flying away.

  “We have pillowcases left,” Charlotte said. She took one from the basket and shook it out before handing it to Nadine. “Jenna looked happy the other day, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Of course she did,” Nadine murmured around the clothespin she held in her mouth. “Why wouldn’t she look happy?”

  Charlotte shrugged and pulled another pillowcase from the laundry basket. “I don’t know. I just worry about her.”

  “Cast your cares upon the Lord and He will sustain you.”

  “You’re not worried about her?”

  Nadine stopped. Was she worried about Jenna? “Not really, no. She is fine and safe. She’s smart and she knows what to do. I’m proud of her.”

  “I am too,” Charlotte snapped.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t; it’s just ... you need to spend more time thinking about the good parts of this rather than the bad.”

  “The good parts?” Her tone was enough to let Nadine know that she didn’t see any good parts in the situation at all.

  “She’s moved on in her life.” Nadine reached out for another pillowcase. Just a couple more and they would be finished for the afternoon. At least until they had to take them down. “She’s getting married this winter. Who knows? Maybe in a year or two, you’ll have a grandbaby.” And I’ll have a great-grandbaby.

  Nadine reached out for another pillowcase, but there wasn’t one. She turned back to Charlotte. Her daughter-in-law was standing stock-still, the pillowcase she had intended to hand to Nadine lying on the ground between them.

  “What’s the matter?” Nadine looked around, but the yard and everything around them looked the same as always.

  “I thought about this before, and it scares me. Jenna can’t have a baby.”

  Nadine had to bend down and rescue the forgotten pillowcase. Thankfully, it hadn’t suffered any from being dropped. She brushed away the loose strands of grass and hung the pillowcase next to the other ones.

  “Why not?” As far as she knew, there was no reason why Jenna couldn’t have a baby.

  “She’s just a baby herself. I mean, I know she takes care of Abbie’s girls, but it’s different when it’s your own.”

  Nadine reached into the basket and pulled out another pillowcase. “It’s not.” She frowned at Charlotte as she hung up the case.

  “I worry.”

  Nadine clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Give it to God.”

  “I miss her.”

  She nodded. Nadine missed Jenna too. “It’s hard not having her in the house.”

  “It’s too quiet.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  Charlotte didn’t have time to respond as the sound of a tractor engine cut through their conversation.

  “Who’s that?” Charlotte looked toward the driveway. A tractor chugged steadily toward their house.

  Nadine shielded her eyes to get a better look. “What in the world?” she exclaimed.

  “What? Who is it?”

  “Amos Fisher.”

  “What’s he doing here?” Charlotte propped her hands on her hips and waited for him to park the tractor.

  Nadine was afraid to ask. She thought they had everything sorted out. She thought she had made herself clear. She wasn’t going to find love again so she didn’t want to look for it. Amos might think they were both there for a reason, and maybe that was the truth, but whatever had brought them here at this time had nothing to do with love.

  She heard the engine stop but couldn’t see where he had parked. They were just around the corner of the house far enough that he was hidden from view. It was only a matter of seconds before he came around the side where they could see him. However, it wasn’t Amos’s face she saw, but a very large heart made of shiny red foil.

  “Amos?” Nadine asked.

  The over-large Valentine was lowered, and those familiar blue eyes and white beard came into view.

  Chapter Five

  “What are you doing?” Nadine knew her voice was a little too shrill, but surprise could do that. She gave a cough and tried again. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve brought you some candy. Chocolate.” He smiled, and Nadine grudgingly admitted there was a sweetness about him that pulled at her. He has a good heart, she told herself. That was all.

  “That’s filled with chocolate?” Charlotte spoke the second thought that had popped into Nadine’s head. It would have been first, had she not allowed herself to be distracted by his smile.

  He gave it a gentle shake. “I think there’s a couple of filler things in there. It’s only twenty-five pounds of chocolate.”

  “What?” Nadine managed to keep her voice below a screech. But only just.

  Amos grinned, obviously proud of himself. For what, Nadine had no idea. Then he jerked his head toward their front porch. “Let’s open it.”

  Nadine looked back at the empty laundry basket. They had finished hanging all of the sheets and pillowcases, and it would be an hour or so before they would take them down. She couldn’t use laundry as an excuse.

  She looked back at Charlotte. There was a hint of mischief in her daughter-in-law’s eyes. Nadine didn’t know what it meant until Charlotte hooked arms with her and led her toward the porch. “Jah,” Charlotte said. “I think you should open it.”

  Nadine allowed herself
to be led toward Amos, but instead of stopping at the porch—most likely the only place big enough to allow them enough room to open the extra-large heart-shaped box—Charlotte kept going.

  She was already in the house when Nadine asked, “Aren’t you staying to see what’s in there?”

  Charlotte smiled and shook her head. “That looks like a two-person job.” Then she closed the door, leaving Nadine alone on the porch with Amos.

  He smiled. She returned his smile, but her own lips felt a little like they had been left in the sun too long.

  He nodded. She continued to smile.

  What was he waiting for? Why was he just sitting there staring at her?

  He cleared his throat. “Are you going to open it?”

  “Oh.” She reached for the side where it had been taped with a wide adhesive strip covered in hearts.

  It took both of them to lift the top, not because it was so heavy, but it was awkward, huge and heart-shaped.

  There were five sections inside, each shaped like a heart. Valentines inside of a Valentine. Though it was way past February.

  Nadine had never seen twenty-five pounds of chocolate. At least not outside a candy shop.

  “Let’s try some.” Amos’s eyes lit up like those of a child.

  She shook her head. “I can’t accept this from you.”

  He blinked, but otherwise his expression remained the same. “Of course you can.”

  “No.” She stopped. How did she explain something she didn’t quite get herself? “This is too much. It’s like something you would give a woman you want to court.” An Englisch woman. Whoever heard of an Amish man giving candy on a date? Not in her world.

  “Oh, don’t be like that. I can’t take it back.”

  “It’s too much,” she insisted. “What am I going to do with twenty-five pounds of chocolate?”

  “Eat it?”

  She shook her head again.

  His expression finally crumpled, and she felt like a heel for wiping his smile away. “I thought women liked chocolate.”

  “They do . . . uh, we do. But this isn’t right. I’m not courting you, and I can’t accept gifts from you.” And I’m afraid that if I take this, I’ll never get you to leave me alone, and then what will happen?

  That was the long and the short of it. She couldn’t take the remarkable, if not way over-the-top, gift from him because it would mean more time together and more time to get to know each other and more time for her to be tested.

  He pushed himself to his feet. “Okay. Jah. I see.”

  “I think maybe you should go home.” Maybe? How about definitely?

  He gave a stiff jerk of his chin that almost served as a nod, and then he started down the porch steps.

  “Aren’t you going to take this?” Nadine gestured toward the box of chocolate.

  “I bought it for you.”

  I don’t want it, was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t allow herself to say it. That was simply cruel. “I think you should take it.”

  Just then, Charlotte opened the front door. Nadine wondered if she had been standing there the entire time, listening to their conversation. Their private conversation. “Thank you for the chocolate, Amos. It’s hard for Nadine to say, but she really does appreciate it.”

  He nodded at Charlotte, and this time, his gesture was fluid and natural. “There’s plenty there if she’ll share.”

  “That’s a very sweet gesture.”

  He turned back to Nadine. “It’s a mistake, you know. You shutting yourself off like this. I just want to get to know you better. What’s wrong with that?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply stated his mind, then made his way to where his tractor was parked.

  Nadine stayed on the porch, the large heart-shaped box in front of her as he got on his tractor and started the engine. Charlotte stayed in the doorway, watching as well.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” she finally said when Amos was out of sight. He hadn’t looked back once as he had driven away.

  “Nothing’s gotten into me.”

  “Then why are you so mean to him?”

  Why? Because he scared her to death. But she wasn’t admitting that to her daughter-in-law. “He’s got it all wrong,” she finally said. He thought he could overcome her objections to getting married again. Having never been married himself, he didn’t know the pain of losing a mate, a spouse, the one person you were sure God had intended for you to spend the rest of your life with. Then you realize it’s only the rest of their life. She had known that pain two times; she wasn’t up for a third.

  * * *

  She didn’t like the candy. How could anyone not like candy? Diabetics, okay, he could understand that, but didn’t the world love chocolate? How could everyone around love it and Nadine Burkhart look at it like it was poison?

  Amos sat down at his small kitchen table and stared at his hands. He was no good at this courting thing. Now it seemed that maybe the guys at the shop were not going to be much help after all.

  He wished he had listened a little more closely to what Jenna and Buddy had had to say. Outside the sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the weather beautiful. The perfect day for taking someone out and showing them a fun time. Nothing major. Just the stuff like Jenna was talking about. Picnics and board games, swimming. Well, maybe not swimming; the water was still a little chilly for that. But soon.

  Or not.

  Maybe it was once again time to cut his losses and move on. Maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe this wasn’t what God had intended for him. Maybe he was supposed to remain a bachelor all his days. He couldn’t complain. He didn’t have family close, but the family he did have loved him. His life had been fulfilling, even without a wife or children. Sometimes he thought that not having that distraction helped him focus more on God.

  There was a time when he’d thought he had a heightened sense of his purpose and what God wanted from him. Either he’d lost it or he’d forgotten how to understand it. Nadine Burkhart wanted nothing to do with him. And he supposed that was that.

  He heard the tractor engine before he realized that whoever was driving it was coming up his drive. He rose to his feet but didn’t check out the window. The only people who came up this far were people who wanted to be at his house. It was as simple as that.

  A knock sounded at the door, and he waited a moment before opening it just so it didn’t look too much like he was standing right behind the door waiting for the summons.

  Nadine Burkhart stood on his new porch, a small, more manageably sized heart-shaped box in her hands.

  She was looking around—he was sure she was checking out the new porch he had built the day her granddaughter and her future grandson-in-law had asked him to court her. Weird. If he wasn’t living it, he would have never believed.

  “Nadine.”

  She whipped her attention back to him. “You built a porch.”

  He nodded. “It was time.”

  “I like it.”

  “I have several more things I want to do to the place. It just takes a while.”

  “Indeed.”

  “So,” he started, trying to find a way to segue into her purpose for being there. Unable to find one, he merely continued, “Why are you here, Nadine?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t mean to be gruff around you. You come near me, and it’s like I can’t help myself.”

  He tried not to be affected by her words, but a pain seared through his heart. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that you bring out the worst in me.” She winced. Even the words were a testament to her claim.

  He paused, trying to find a response. “That’s not good,” he finally said. “Not good at all.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

  “Isn’t that what you said last time? It’s not me?”

  She shook her head. “Can I come in?” she asked. “I’ve brought candy.” She held up the box to show him.


  What was a man to do? Amos took a couple of steps back to allow her into his trailer. Then he motioned her toward the small kitchen table.

  She settled into her seat and placed the candy on the table between them. “The porch looks nice.”

  “Danki.”

  She opened her mouth to say something more or something else, he didn’t know, nor would he ever. She never finished. Instead, she sighed. “I don’t know what to make of this, of you coming around and saying you want to court me. I’ve never had anything happen like that in my life. Just so . . . bam!”

  “I’m sixty-two,” he said. “I don’t have much time to waste. Or maybe I do. Only God knows how long we’ll be here, so I’m not willing to take the chance.”

  She studied the wood grain on the table much in the same way Abe Fitch would have. “I married the love of my life,” she finally said.

  “And you had wonderful children together.” But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a wonderful time together now.

  “Let me finish, please.” Her voice quavered, and he stopped trying to fill in the blanks. “I married the love of my life. The first boy ever to take me home from a singing. Sam Yoder. We got married two years later, and he died the year after that.”

  “Yoder?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But I thought—”

  She nodded. “Most people do. It’s not something I talk about. It’s very personal.”

  “I understand.” He wanted to clasp her hand in his and show her how much the revelation meant to him. But he kept his hands to himself.

  “Love like that doesn’t come but once in a lifetime.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “You sound like one of those Englisch love stories.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged as if it was no concern to her. She believed what she believed and there was no changing her mind about that.

  “But you got married again.”

  “I did.” Her lips turned up a bit at the corners, but he couldn’t really call it a smile. “And Jason was a good man. He provided for me and the children. A woman couldn’t ask for more than that.”

  “Love?”

  “I had love.”

  “You don’t think you can have love more than once?”