by Sarah Price
Looking through cabinets and the refrigerator, she was thankful to find some fresh vegetables, potatoes, and thinly sliced ham. It would have to do, she realized. But the next day was Monday and they’d have to go to the market so that she could stock up on proper food for the week’s meals.
The table was set and a kerosene lantern lit up the room when Jake came back inside. He hesitated for a moment but didn’t reach for the light switch. The glow from the kerosene lantern flickered against the walls, making shadows dance in the fading light from the retreating sun. He washed his hands and sat down, letting Sylvia serve him for their first supper together.
“It’s all I could find,” she apologized as she set down his plate before him. “If we could, perhaps we might go together to market tomorrow?”
“That we can do,” he said agreeably, waiting for her to sit. “I suppose teaching you how to drive the truck is out of the question,” he said after they had bowed their heads for a silent blessing.
“Drive the truck?” she gasped, practically choking on her first bite of food.
He sighed. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to get you a buggy or cart then. We do have these lovely horses, don’t we? They could use the exercise and you would be a wonderful advertisement. People will see this beautiful woman with this beautiful horse and, since they can’t have the one, they might want the other!”
She laughed. “You are incorrigible!”
After supper, he helped her clear the dishes from the table. There was a peaceful quiet in the room. It filled her with happiness. It felt strange to know that, once again, she would be spending the night at Jake’s home…her home. Yet, when he smiled at her as he set some more dishes by the sink, everything just felt right.
While she washed the dishes, he disappeared into the next room. She could hear him fiddling with something but she wasn’t certain what it was until he returned to the kitchen. He took the dish towel from her hand and set it on the counter. “Come Sylvia. This can wait,” he said, leading her into the sitting room.
He had lit another kerosene lantern, this one not as bright as the one in the kitchen. The room glowed and there was a gentle hissing noise coming from the lantern. However, he turned his attention to the old piano where he had place a small radio.
“I want you to dance with me,” he said as he turned a knob and soft music filled the room.
“I…I don’t know how to dance,” she said. Truth was that she had never even thought about such a thing.
“It’s easy,” he said, taking her into his arms. He wrapped one arm around her waist so that she was tucked up against him. “Just follow my movements, Mrs. Edwards,” he murmured into her ear.
She leaned against him while he moved slowly to the music. At first, she felt uncomfortable. She had listened to music before during her rumspringa and with some of her friends at volleyball games. Steve even kept a battery-operated radio in his buggy before he joined the church. But dancing? That was something Amish just didn’t do.
Yet, as he held her tight, she shut her eyes and tried to relax. She could feel the muscles beneath his shirt and his arms were wrapped protectively around her. The too familiar waves of anticipation began to flow through her body and she felt her pulse quicken. She lifted her arms and placed them over his shoulders, just like she had seen in the movies. Her cheek was pressed against his chest and she felt his chin resting on top of her head. They fit together so neatly, like interlocking pieces of a puzzle.
“Isn’t this nice?” he asked softly.
“Umm,” she replied, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.
He ran his hands up her back. “And this is only the beginning,” he whispered. She could feel him loosening her bun until her hair flowed freely down her back. She was getting used to his fascination with her hair. He tugged gently at it, tilting her head back so that he could draw his lips across her neck.
“It’s been a long day, Mrs. Edwards. What do you say about retiring early this evening?”
Even in the fading light of the sunset, he could see her cheeks turn pink at the suggestion. But she didn’t argue as he turned off the lantern, leaving the radio on to sing them goodnight as he led her upstairs for their second night as husband and wife.
Chapter Twenty-One
To Sylvia, their first week of marriage seemed to pass too quickly. Time did not stand still on Jake’s farm. Their days started before the sun crested in the sky. They worked together, side by side, from five in the morning until seven-thirty. During that time, they milked the cows, fed the horses and mules, and filled the water troughs in the fields. They would turn the cows back out after the milking then take time to clean the horses’ and mules’ stalls. It wasn’t demanding work and she enjoyed working in his company. By seven-thirty, she would hurry into the kitchen to put some fresh coffee on the stove and begin preparing for breakfast.
During the late morning, Jake often worked with the horses. He would spend hours grooming them and lunging them in a small paddock behind the barn. Sylvia would spend that time redding the house and gathering any clothes that needed to be washed. She had decided that she would do laundry on Tuesdays and Fridays, spreading the work out across the week so that there wouldn’t be too much to do in one day.
After lunch, she spent time baking in the kitchen. She made fresh bread each day that week, loving how the smell welcomed Jake when he came in for an afternoon coffee. Then, she would spend the rest of the day helping him in the barn unless he had to run an errand into town. She wasn’t comfortable riding in his truck and, with the exception of the market, tried her best to avoid doing so. The quick errands seemed frivolous to her, aided in part by the ease of turning a key in the ignition.
True to his word, he bought her a used open top wagon. It was large enough to carry plenty of groceries or even supplies from the farm store. It arrived on Friday while she was hanging up the laundry to dry in the sun. A man drove up the driveway, his own horse pulling the carriage while another buggy followed behind. Sylvia peered over the clothesline, her heart skipping a beat when she realized that the men were unhitching the wagon to leave it. Jake hadn’t told her. Instead, it was just one more of his endless string of surprises.
They spent the rest of the day trying to harness one of his older and calmer horses to the carriage. The two men who had sold Jake the carriage stayed around to help. Sylvia watched helplessly as the men put the harness on the horse and tried to hook her up to the wagon. She was resistant at first, stamping her hooves and dancing back and forth to avoid the weight of the harness. But the men were persistent and it took about five tries before the horse gave in and accepted the strange contraption behind her. The men worked with Jake, showing him how to drive the horse and even turn the wagon around, being careful not to cut the circle too tight.
“Shouldn’t take too long to make her bombproof,” the one man said to Jake. “She’s a fine looking horse. Seems high quality.”
Jake rubbed his jaw as he stared at the horse. “The buggy is for my wife. How long you think until the mare’s safe enough for my wife to drive?”
“Give it a week or two,” the man said. “Stick to back roads for a while. And it wouldn’t hurt if you rode along as the grounds man, especially in the beginning.”
So, for the rest of the week and all of the following, Jake spent as much time working with the mare as he could. He was concerned that he felt comfortable turning over the reins to Sylvia. He wanted her to have mobility, to be able to visit with her friends and family. But he wanted her to be safe, above all else. Finally, when he felt confident enough in his own ability to control the horse as well as in the horse’s calm nature when pulling the wagon, he invited her to ride in the wagon with him.
It was a beautiful day with crystal blue skies and fluffy white clouds. The sun shone overhead and, while it was hot, there wasn’t too much humidity in the air. After lunch, they harnessed the horse to the wagon and Jake helped her climb up to sit on the
padded seat. He climbed up and sat next to her. He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “Ready for this?” She hid her smile, realizing that he was nervous. She wondered if he was nervous about the horse or his own skill. But she said nothing, just lightly touched his knee to reassure him that it would be fine.
The wagon lurched forward and the horse started trotting right away. Jake did his best to slow her down until they had reached the main rode. He pulled on the right rein, forcing her to turn to the right. “I thought we might take a quick visit to your parents. We haven’t seen them in almost three weeks already.”
Three weeks, she thought. Had it flown by that quickly? “Seems hard to imagine that so much time has passed,” she replied.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he teased, nudging her softly with his elbow.
She felt relaxed by his side with the wind on her face. The sun warmed her and she took a deep breath. Yes, she thought, time sure does travel at a different pace these days. She couldn’t help herself from leaning toward him so that her arm brushed against his. He glanced down at her and smiled, appreciative of even that small gesture that said so much without any words.
When they arrived at her parents’ farm, Sylvia took a deep breath. It felt strange driving down the lane with Jake by her side. Indeed, her parents had not been happy with the news. In many ways, Sylvia was thankful that Jake had spoken to her father privately. By the time Sylvia had returned to the farm just before her wedding to Jake, the shock had dissipated enough so that her mother was able to congratulate her, despite the sorrow in her eyes that said otherwise.
When Jake stopped the horse and wagon in the driveway, he leaned over to help Sylvia get down. She waited patiently for him to tie the horse to the side of the barn before they walked, together, toward the house. Jonas sat inside, enjoying a hot cup of coffee after his noon meal with Katie scurrying to wash the dishes. They both looked surprised to see Jake and Sylvia walk through the door but they gave them a genuine welcome and invited them to sit at the table. Sylvia hurried to her mother’s side, grateful for the opportunity to help her while Jake sat at the table next to his father-in-law.
“Well, well,” Jonas said lightly but Sylvia could see the strain in his face. It was not easy for him to greet his daughter with her fancy husband from the world of the Englische. “Was wondering when you two would get to visiting us. Thought you forgot about us.”
Jake laughed. “Not at all, Jonas. But your daughter sure has kept me busy…Been working with one of the horses to drive her new wagon.”
Jonas raised an eyebrow. “A new wagon, you don’t say?”
“Didn’t think she’d take a shine to learning how to drive my big pickup truck,” Jake teased with a wink in Sylvia’s direction.
“Can’t say I blame her,” Jonas replied. He set his cup down on the table and glanced out the window. “What do you say you show me this horse of yours? Steve told me they were good quality stock.”
After the two men retreated outside, Sylvia continued helping her mother, quietly waiting for her mother to say something. Anything. But, as the silence grew, so did the awkwardness of the moment. Both women were stuck in their own thoughts, wondering how to break the barrier and move forward. Already Sylvia could sense the distance and it pained her, knowing that her choice had created this separation between herself and her mother. But the choice had been made and, despite feeling sad at the loss of this relationship, she knew that she wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world.
Finally, Sylvia cleared her throat. “Getting along well at Jake’s farm,” she said softly. “It’s different though.”
“Ach vell, t’is to be expected, I suppose,” her mother replied.
“Quiet,” Sylvia said. For a moment, neither spoke again. The dishes clattered as they neatly stacked them after they were dried. Sylvia lifted them into the cabinet for her mother. “I wish I had spent more time cooking with you,” she offered.
“Ja, I can see that,” Katie said.
“It’s difficult to plan all of those meals.”
Katie turned around, facing her daughter. For the first time, Sylvia noticed how tired her mother looked. She was shorter than Sylvia and her hair was pulled back so tightly into a bun that the part down the center of her head had stretched into a wide patch of baldness. There were bags under her mother’s eyes and grey hair sticking out from under her prayer cap. Sylvia wondered if her marriage to Jake had aged her mother or just the passing of time, unnoticed until she had been away for so long.
“Your sisters are coming over this Friday afternoon for an applesauce canning. Suppose you might want to join them,” her mother said, offering a touch of an olive branch. “Applesauce works for a gut appeditt and farmers have that.”
She was staring at her daughter, seeing her with new eyes. The dress that Sylvia wore was a plain blue Amish dress. She had insisted on wearing that to her mother’s, despite Jake’s raised eyebrow. But, despite the Amish dress, even Katie could see the change already in her daughter. She had been exposed to the world, to a relationship with her new husband that had clearly spoiled her for the plain life.
Katie knew that, no matter how much Sylvia tried, she would stray further and further from the simple upbringing that both Katie and Jonas had provided. Even if Sylvia didn’t know that yet, Katie was quite certain that this marriage would not end the same way as Emanuel and Shana’s…with a kneeling vow and embracing the Amish way of life.
“That would be right gut,” Sylvia said, her eyes downcast as she recognized how much she wanted to be there with her sisters. To make applesauce all afternoon meant talking and laughing, sharing fellowship with her sisters. She looked forward to being a part of that community once again. “Danke, Mamm.”
“Now, let’s go see what canned goods I might have to spare. Can’t have you starving your new husband, ja?”
When Sylvia walked out of the house, she had a box filled with glass containers of canned vegetables and bags of frozen food. Her mother had also sat down with her, going over some simple recipes and cooking plans so that Sylvia could organize a routine for the cooking. Through the sharing of such information, Sylvia felt the barrier slowly thaw. She was grateful for the time that her mother spent and the knowledge that she passed along. And, when it was time to leave, she could only smile her appreciation at her mother as Jake took the box from her and set it carefully in the back of the wagon.
He reached out and touched Sylvia’s arm. “Ready, Sylvia?” he asked softly.
“Ja.” They waved their good-byes, no hugs or kisses. Jake helped Sylvia get into the wagon, making certain that she was settled before he walked around to the driver side and got into the wagon beside her.
“I’ll pick you up Thursday morning, then, Jonas?”
Jonas nodded and waved, stepping back from the wagon as it began to move. “That’d be right appreciated, Jake. We’ll go check out that auction in New Holland.” Her parents both stood in the driveway, watching as Jake slapped the reins on the horse’s back and started down the driveway. They both waved as the wagon rolled away.
Sylvia waited a few seconds until they had pulled away. Then, she looked up at Jake. “Auction? You’re picking up my father to go to an auction?”
Jake nodded. “Need some equipment for the fall plowing. Your father offered to help me out.” He winked at her. “Being so much wiser than I am about farming and all, his advice would be greatly appreciated.”
She couldn’t hide the smile. She knew that Jake didn’t really need her father’s help. But that was a wonderful gut way to break the ice and rekindle the friendship. By asking her father for help, Jake had found a way to create a thread between her new life and her old one. She was overwhelmed at his thoughtfulness and reached out to hold onto his arm as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Danke, Jake.”
Perhaps it was the way she said it, with genuine appreciation, that made him slow the wagon down. He pulled ove
r to the side of the road. Once the horse was stopped, he held the reins in one hand so that he could lean over toward her. The seat creaked under his shifting weight. Ever so gently, he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up toward his. He searched her face, his eyes sparkling. Then, with the softest of pressure, he brushed his lips against hers and whispered, “You’re welcome, Sylvia.”
Back at the farm, after he unharnessed the horse and put the mare back in the stall, he carried the box inside for Sylvia and helped her unload the box of food. He kept her company while she unpacked it, showing him the different cans and bags of food as she set them on the counter. She was pleased with the contribution that her mother had made toward their pantry. It was truly a gift from the heart. When Sylvia told Jake about the Friday applesauce gathering, he seemed happy for her and told her, “I told you it would all work out.” Then he kissed her on the top of her head and excused himself to the barn to work with the horses and get ready for evening chores.
For the first time in weeks, she felt truly at peace with herself. Yes, she thought, indeed everything would work itself out. Her parents would accept her decision, she would live a happy life, and Jake would be a good farmer.