by Sarah Price
Frederick lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Unless, of course, that would be us,” she added softly, a feeling of warmth crossing her cheeks.
Without a moment’s hesitation Charles jumped to his feet and extended his hand toward Frederick. “Is this true? I can hardly believe it!”
Jane tilted her head, a quizzical expression on her face as she was not comprehending what her sister had just said. “Lizzie, are you . . . ?”
With a nervous smile Lizzie nodded her head. “Ja,” she said. “I will be Frederick’s Lizzie from this day forward.”
“Oh . . . ” Jane seemed stunned, her eyes glowing as she looked first at Lizzie then at Frederick. “I . . . I can scarcely believe it! This is such wunderbaar gut news!”
Frederick maintained his composure, but the look on his face spoke volumes about what he was truly feeling. “Best go speak to the bishop now,” he said, excusing himself from the group, leaving Jane to gush over Lizzie’s announcement.
Jane reached for Lizzie’s hand, leaning forward so that no one could overhear. “Is this for real? Are you sure?”
“I’m ever so sure,” Lizzie said, the color rising to her cheeks. The reality was hitting her, and she felt overwhelmed with emotion. “I was so wrong, Jane, so terribly wrong about him!” She felt tears well into her eyes, and with a shaking hand, she pushed them away and tried to smile. “We misjudged him. And I can only thank God for helping me see the truth.”
“I’m stunned,” Jane said, her eyes searching Lizzie’s and clutching her hand. “But I’m happy at this news. I always knew it would take a special man to capture your heart.”
Lizzie laughed through her tears. “Oh, ja, special indeed! Frederick Detweiler is definitely that and so much more!”
Later in the evening Frederick approached Lizzie, his cheeks flushed and a glow in his eyes. He leaned over her shoulder and whispered into her ear, “I have spoken to the bishop and to your daed as well.”
Lizzie seemed taken aback and stared at him. “My daed?” She only hoped that Daed did not share the news with her maem at Jane’s wedding, knowing only too well that Maem’s reaction would be one that needed containment.
Frederick seemed relaxed, more relaxed than she had ever seen him, and she found that she felt comforted and protected in his presence. “Your daed seemed most surprised, Elizabeth,” he said, trying not to smile at her. “I suspect that he would like a word with you.”
“I suspect so too,” she retorted playfully. She could only imagine her daed’s reaction that she, Elizabeth Blank, was not only to marry Frederick Detweiler, the most disagreeable of men, but also to move to Ohio. “And the bishop?” she asked.
“He will announce it on Sunday, and the wedding shall be in one week.”
One week. The two words sent a conflict of emotions through her. Joy and fear. Excitement and apprehension. She felt a shiver run the course of her spine as she stood before this man, standing closer than was proper for mere friends. Indeed, his stance by her side was a clear indication that she was, forevermore, spoken for. When she thought back to their kiss, that remarkable kiss, a blush flooded to her cheeks and she saw him smile.
“And you blush because . . . ?”
She lowered her eyes and hid her own smile, refusing to give him the pleasure of a response to his question. “I think it’s best if I find my daed now,” she whispered before quickly moving away from him and in the direction she had last seen her daed.
He was standing alone, his eyes glazed over when she approached him. It took him a moment to escape his thoughts and return to the present. Setting down his empty cup on a table, he indicated that she should follow him as they escaped the crowds in the house and retreated outdoors. Slowly they walked away from the house and any ears that might overhear.
“Is this true, Lizzie? That you have agreed to marry Frederick Detweiler?”
She nodded her head, not trusting her voice to speak without revealing too much emotion.
“But you despise the man!”
At this announcement she laughed, which triggered the tears of joy to fill her eyes. “Oh, Daed, I was so wrong about him,” she blurted out. “So very, very wrong.”
“I should hope so,” Daed quipped. “Otherwise I would think you have lost your senses, dochder! I have heard nothing else about him from you besides all of his flaws. And now I hear that you are to marry him and move to Ohio! Are you sure about this?”
“I’m as sure about this as anything, Daed,” she said happily, wiping hastily at the tears in her eyes. “If you only knew what he has done . . . ”
“Mayhaps you best tell me, so that I can understand this shift in your feelings,” he replied. “I would feel so much better knowing what has caused this very unexpected announcement!”
They walked down the lane and behind the barn while Lizzie shared what she had learned. She spoke rapidly and with an excitement that bordered on giddiness, laughing at times when she recalled her own sharp opinions of Frederick that happened to be so mistaken and incorrect. When she told her daed about Lydia and all that Frederick had done to save her from disgrace, she heard Daed catch his breath as he stopped walking.
“My word, dochder,” he said softly. “Is all of this true?”
“Ja,” she nodded empathically. “As true as true can be.”
“I had no idea,” he replied, his eyes distant and his mind wandering. “I’d say he is a right gut man, Elizabeth, and one that might actually keep you in line. I never thought it possible, and secretly, I had hoped to keep you with us. But how could I possibly deny such a man to care for the best son I never had!”
Lizzie laughed at her daed’s statement and, without hesitating, gave him a hug, something that she hadn’t done since she was a small child. To her surprise he hugged her back and laughed with her, apparently as delighted with this news as any man could be upon hearing that his favorite child was to leave the nest for the right person and for the right reasons.
Epilogue
SPRING CAME EARLY in Dutch Valley, Ohio. Lizzie stood by the fence, watching as Frederick crossed the back paddock, his straw hat tipped back on his head and a smile on his face as he approached her. In the distance a truck could be heard rumbling down the road, a sound she rarely heard at the farm in the Dutch Valley, unlike back in Leola. The noise broke the silence, but thankfully it quickly faded.
Her husband had already plowed and planted the back fields, but he liked to walk through them each day, checking that things were growing and that there were no signs of problems. Oftentimes he rode his favorite Standardbred stallion, Larkin, to cover more of the ground in less time and better survey his land. Today, however, that was not the case, for he had instructed the young single men who worked on his farm to plow a plot of land for Lizzie’s garden, and he had made a point to personally partake in the task. Lizzie hadn’t wanted to compete with his aendi’s garden and had decided to grow flowers instead of vegetables. Frederick had smiled to himself when she originally mentioned her concerns, but he supported her decision.
Sunflowers, she had decided. Rows upon rows of beautiful sunflowers. Those, indeed, were her favorite flowers, because they always seemed to face the sun and grow from the warmth of the golden rays.
Lizzie had shared her plan with Frederick: she would sell the sunflowers to the Englischers who frequented the neighbors’ farm stands and make sunflower seeds from those that did not sell. When Frederick heard her idea, he initially laughed, his eyes glowing as he reached for her hand and pulled her into his arms.
“That’s very entrepreneurial of you, Elizabeth!”
She rested her hand on his shoulder, staring into his face. “I learned this and much more from you, my husband,” she replied, a response that pleased him, for he gifted her with a soft kiss when he heard her words.
She had come upon the idea when she realized that she too was like a sunflower. After all, it had not been that long ago, in her time of anguish and un-gra
nted pride, when she had ultimately faced the light of the Lord and taken comfort and spiritual growth from His benevolence.
How peculiar, she realized, was the fact that she now lived a happy life in Ohio, far away from her childhood home, as the fraa of an Amish gentleman farmer! Pride, she pondered. It can, all too often, lead to such prejudice! Had she been guilty of letting her pride dictate her actions? Was it the result of her upbringing? Was it because she had been one of five daughters while striving to become “the best son her daed never had”? Was it because of Maem, whose sole purpose in life lately was to marry off her dochders? Did these facts engender resentment, pride, or, as with sister Lydia, a strong propensity for nonconformism and emancipation?
These were all good questions, questions whose answers would come in due time, she realized. But learning from them could be even more important than getting the answers, for life had a way of constantly changing. Still, there were moments when everything appeared to return to its rightful place, like the scattered pieces of a puzzle coming together to form a beautiful picture.
After all, Jane and Charles had found the love of their lives within each other. Lydia and George, despite their precipitated nuptials, would ultimately stumble upon the right path, God willing; even Charlotte, her childhood friend, had found her rightful purpose in life with her union to Wilmer.
With three of their dochders now married and out of the house, Maem and Daed would surely join forces and find that elusive son-in-law who, in times yet to come, would first help Daed with his tasks then ultimately take over the farm. For this, indeed, was the way of the Amish.
Lizzie’s new life in Ohio had soon fallen into a wonderful routine. She had spent her winter days working on a wedding quilt with many of the women from the g’may as well as with Charlotte, who was now with child, and Aendi. By the time the last snow fell, the quilt was stretched across the bed that she shared with Frederick. It had taken her some time to get used to living in Ohio and not being near her family, but the friendship of Charlotte, the company of Grace, and the help of Aendi had lightened her heart and prevented homesickness. Still, she missed Jane and wrote to her every week. Jane was only too eager to respond.
To Charles’s delight Jane had proven herself quite the homemaker as well as his true partner and new best friend. He was as much in love with her as Jane was with him, and they were making plans to grace the Beachey farm with a new arrival. Plenty of new arrivals. From what Lizzie could glean from the letters, both from Jane and from Maem, not a happier couple resided in Leola, that was for sure and certain.
Now, with the spring season in full bloom, Frederick’s days were spent working around the farm. He awoke early each morning, slipping quietly from beneath the sheets so as not to awaken Lizzie. Some mornings she would stir and open her eyes to see him watching her as he dressed in his work clothes. He would smile and sit on the edge of the bed, running his hand along her shoulder and down her arm before leaning over to kiss her forehead and gently instruct her to go back to sleep.
But sleeping in late was not something that Lizzie was capable of doing. Instead, she would quickly arise and get dressed, eager to face the morning. She had tried to help Frederick in the dairy but he always chased her away, frowning when she came outside with the intention of milking the cows. So her mornings were spent inside, baking bread and cleaning the house. With just four people living there, the house rarely needed much in the way of cleaning, but Lizzie liked a pristine home and knew that both Frederick and his aendi appreciated her efforts.
After evening chores Frederick would change his clothes and join Lizzie downstairs. He never sat around the house in his work clothes, always wearing properly cleaned pants and shirts with shiny boots. At first Lizzie had wondered about that until she realized that, in his own way, he was still courting her. Work clothes were for planting and milking, not for spending time with his fraa.
He would read the paper while she worked on her crocheting. As the weather became nicer and the days grew longer, they took to walking during the sunset, side by side down the road. Some nights they walked in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. Other nights they talked, sharing stories about their day or news about friends and family.
Today, however, he greeted her with a smile as he approached her from his walk across the field. “Wie gehts?” he asked as he stood opposite her at the fence.
“Feeling restless,” she replied.
He smiled at her and removed his hat, wiping at the sweat that glistened on his forehead. He glanced down and gestured toward her expanded stomach. “Is the baby jumping a lot, then?”
Lizzie flushed. “Ja, he sure is.”
“We still have a few months,” he said, reaching out a hand to stroke the front of her dress. Then, in a moment of curiosity, Frederick looked back at her and repeated her word. “He?”
“Oh, ja!” she said, nodding her head. “I reckon that only a boy could move about as much as this boppli!”
He laughed and, glancing around to make certain no one was watching, leaned forward to tenderly kiss her lips. “A boy is gut,” he said softly. “The more hands to work the farm, ja?”
She smiled and lowered her eyes, changing the subject. “The garden plot looks right gut,” she said. “Danke for having the men plow it for me.”
Dipping his head in a single nod, he acknowledged her gratitude. Then he stepped onto the bottom board of the fence and, in a fluid motion, jumped over the top rail so that he stood beside her. “Come, Elizabeth,” he said as he extended his hand to take hers in his. “Let’s walk for a spell. We can admire the pastures and watch the cows, giving thanks to the Lord for His abundance in providing us with so much and being able to provide others with the opportunity to learn and improve.”
She tilted her head and sighed, a happy sound. “I reckon the most important thing He has done is bring us together, Frederick, and for that I thank Him every morning and every night as well as every second in between.”
He responded by simply nodding his head. Together they walked down a path behind one of the fences surrounding the pasture. She could tell that he was touched by her words, but in typical Frederick fashion, he did his best to maintain complete control of his emotions. She didn’t care, for she was used to his mannerisms.
Together, walking hand in hand, they disappeared down the path, the very path where Lizzie had encountered Frederick so long ago when she had gone for a walk to clear her head and try to make sense of what she had learned about this man. The irony was not lost on her that, when they reached the point of their encounter the previous summer, he paused and glanced down at her, hesitating before lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the soft skin on the back of it.
Two small robins landed on a branch of a nearby tree. The birds perched near each other and began to sing, chirping back and forth as if a planned hymn to nature. Indeed, their song was one of sweetness and innocence, a proclamation of the birth of spring and the glory of God. It was a song that echoed in the silence and followed the young couple as they disappeared down the path, oblivious to the beauty that surrounded them as they focused, instead, on each other and the abundance of love that God had granted them.
Indeed, despite their initial pride and prejudices—the very two traits that had ultimately united them—God had yet worked out His greater plan, a plan that only He had known and one that not only brought prosperity and happiness to all, but also taught them both a great lesson in life and faith.
Coming in 2015 from Sarah Price,
The Matchmaker
Chapter One
LEANING OVER THE back of the kitchen chair, a very busy Emma Weaver struck an unknowingly pretty picture as she bent forward to rearrange the yellow and purple flowers in the glass jar. The late summer blooms had been plucked from her flower garden only an hour before, and their sweet scent wafted through the room as she moved them around for the third or fourth time in less than ten minutes. Satisfied at last, she stood up
right, nodded her self-approval toward the bouquet, then quickly assessed the room with her cornflower-blue eyes.
The table was set with plain white linen and her maem’s best china, a gift from her daed when they had just been married. It was something that Emma loved to use when guests came for supper, especially on Sunday evenings. The sitting area was freshly cleaned just the day prior, for it was forbidden to clean on Sunday, regardless of whether or not it was a church Sunday or a visiting Sunday. The blue sofa and two rocking chairs with blue and white quilted cushions looked welcoming for their soon-to-arrive guests.
“Ah, Emma!” a deep voice sounded out from the staircase.
She looked up in time to see her daed shuffling down the stairs, taking each step one at a time as his weathered hand held the railing. With his long white beard and his thinning hair he looked older than his sixty-five years, a fact that worried Emma on a regular basis. “I thought you were resting, Daed,” she said as she hurried to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. Taking his arm, she helped lead him to his favorite chair: a blue recliner that was covered with a pretty crocheted blanket she had made for him last winter.
“Such a quiet house nowadays,” he mumbled as he sat down and raised the foot of the chair so he could rest his legs. “How sad for you that Anna went off to get married!” He clucked his tongue a few times and shut his eyes as he rested his head on the back of the chair. “Poor Anna, indeed! Why ever would she want to do such a thing anyway?”
Emma laughed, the sound light and airy. “Nee, Daed,” she quickly retorted. “We must be happy for Anna! Old Widower Wagler seemed right pleased last Tuesday, and I dare say that Anna was radiant in her blue wedding dress!”
“Radiant indeed!” her daed scoffed. “Left us alone is what she did. Who shall entertain you now, my dear Emma?”
“Now, Daed!” she reprimanded him gently. “I don’t need anyone to entertain me, and you know that. We have quite enough to keep us busy, and I’m happy for Anna to finally have a home of her own.”