Martha decided to lie down while Trina accompanied the boys to the basement. Largely empty, the room served as an ideal place for them to ride their bicycles—with training wheels attached—during inclement weather, but Trina liked to be present to make sure they didn’t pedal too fast, since the floor was cement and she didn’t want them getting hurt.
Much to Trina’s relief, it was soon time to make supper. Seth had been right; after a full day of rain, she did feel cooped up. Also, although she’d never especially liked the constant noise and bustle of the city, she’d become accustomed to it, so it seemed strange not to see any people other than the Helmuth family for an entire week. Itching to get out and go shopping, she was eager for Seth to return. Admittedly, she was also curious about his trip to the matchmaker, but for his sake Trina hoped Martha wouldn’t ask him about it during supper.
* * *
Seth’s trip to see the matchmaker paid off quicker than he expected. Belinda suggested he consider courting Fannie Jantzi, a widow who lived just over the Elmsville town line. The matchmaker said Fannie was a pet project of hers and Seth didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one. But when Belinda told him Fannie could be available the next day, Seth agreed to pick her up at a nearby phone shanty after their separate church services ended. Feeling hopeful, he hurried home to eat supper with Martha, Trina and the boys.
After taking a bite of bread, Seth set it aside on his plate. He had made leather purses that were probably easier to chew. Trina must have baked it. He tried to be discreet, but Tanner noticed he wasn’t eating his slice.
“Daed, you have to tear into the bread with your teeth like this,” he advised, showing what he meant. “Pretend you’re a lion and it’s carrion.”
“That’s enough, Tanner,” Seth scolded, disconcerted. Trina appeared drained tonight as it was; he hoped she wasn’t offended by Tanner’s remark but he couldn’t tell because she dipped her chin toward her chest. Then he noticed her shoulders shaking a little. Was she crying over such a small thing? But when she glanced up and swallowed a drink of water, he could see she was fighting laughter. He had to give it to her; she was awfully good-natured.
“Look, Daed, you can see two of yourselves in Groossmammi’s eyes,” Timothy pointed out, waving to his reflection in Martha’s glasses.
“Put your hand down and eat your vegetation.” Seth had meant to say vegetables but he subconsciously adopted Trina’s word choice. He’d been thinking about how he’d have to pick up a pair of less conspicuous sunglasses for Martha tonight. He was embarrassed he hadn’t thought of buying her a pair earlier, but she’d never complained about the lighting before. Or was it that he’d never thought to ask? Once again, he was thankful for Trina’s attentiveness to his family.
After they ate, Martha and Trina quickly cleared the table and washed the dishes while Seth and the boys hitched the horse and brought the buggy up the lane.
“I’ll sit in the back with the buwe and Trina can sit up front with you,” Martha said.
Inwardly Seth groaned. It would be difficult to conduct a conversation between the front and back seats, and he didn’t know what to converse with Trina about on his own. He hoped the boys would call out their many questions, but instead, Martha engaged Timothy and Tanner in a spirited conversation about sheep shearing that Seth could barely hear from his seat in front.
“This is such fun!” Trina trilled, spreading the blanket Seth had given her over her lap.
Seth chuckled. “It’s a mode of transportation, not a carnival ride.” Uh-oh, did that sound rude? He actually thought her delight was charming, so he quickly added, “It’s probably a big change from driving a car around Philadelphia.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Trina said breezily. “I don’t own a car.”
“Then how do you get around? Bus? Train?”
“Sometimes, but mostly I walk. Or ride a bike.”
“In Philadelphia?”
“It’s a city, not the moon,” she said, imitating his tone when he remarked about the buggy not being a carnival ride. Then she teased, “Englischers have feet, too, you know.”
Seth chortled. “Jah, but do Englischers eat carrion for supper?”
Trina giggled. “I promise I didn’t teach them that. I don’t know where they learned it.”
“From me.” When Trina twisted sideways and looked at him in surprise, Seth added, “We see a lot of things when we’re out walking in the countryside. Not all of it is pleasant, but it’s a fact of life.”
“The same might be said for walking in the city,” Trina mumbled. There was a hint of sadness to her dulcet voice.
“Staying in Willow Creek must be a big adjustment for you.”
“In some ways, jah. But my mamm told me so much about it when I was growing up it almost seems like I’ve been here before.”
Now there was no mistaking her melancholy tone. “I’m sorry about your mamm,” he said. “You may know this already, but the first year is the most difficult. The grief never goes away completely, but after a year, it changes. And with more time, it will change again. At least, that’s how it was for me after I lost my Eleanor.”
Ordinarily Seth wouldn’t share such an intimate sentiment with an Englisch woman—or an Amish woman, for that matter. But Trina’s voice carried such a note of fragility, he found himself wanting to comfort her.
“I do take comfort in knowing my mamm is with the Lord, but sometimes I’m unbearably lonely without her.”
That was exactly how Seth felt. “Jah, if there was any consolation for me about Timothy and Tanner, it was that they never knew their mamm, so they didn’t miss her the way I did. Even so, it’s been hard on them not to have a mamm in their life.”
“Oh, I see,” Trina spoke quietly, presumably so the boys and Martha wouldn’t hear her. “So that’s why you visited the matchmaker today—you’re ready to court again?”
Seth didn’t feel comfortable continuing this conversation, but when he didn’t respond, Trina assured him, “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’ve had friends who’ve tried online dating services and—”
“Ha!” Seth sputtered. “A matchmaker is nothing like an online dating service.”
“How do you know?” Trina challenged. “Have you ever tried an online dating service?”
“Have you ever tried an Amish matchmaker?”
“Neh, but my mamm told me enough about them for me to know they’re not so different from online dating services, especially from dating services that screen people to find out what their values, interests and hopes are. How is that so different from going to a matchmaker?”
“The very fact you call it dating shows the difference,” Seth argued. “Courtships among the Amish are primarily intended to see if a couple is compatible for marriage. Englischers date for social entertainment.”
“That’s true for some Englischers, but not everyone dates casually. Some are very selective and when they enter a romantic relationship, it’s with the hope of eventually marrying.”
Seth didn’t know how the conversation had jumped from talking about buggy rides to courtships and marriage—topics he would have been reluctant to discuss with his closest Amish friends, much less with an Englischer he barely knew. But since she’d been so bold as to ask him about going to the matchmaker, he figured he could venture an inquiry, too. “Don’t tell me, you’re the kind of person who only dates with the intention of marrying?”
“Neh,” Trina answered, the verve suddenly gone from her voice. “But I don’t date for fun, either. I mean, there was someone I thought I’d marry, but...”
“But the dating service made a bad match?” Seth couldn’t resist needling her a final time.
“I didn’t meet him through a dating service.” Trina seemed a million miles away when she said, “But you’re right, he wasn’t a gut match. He broke up with me wh
en my mamm became ill. He said he couldn’t compete with her for my time and affection.”
Seth regretted bringing up such a painful subject. What kind of man wouldn’t support the woman he loved when her mother had cancer? “What a self-centered dummkopf,” he said aloud, answering his own question.
“It’s better I found out sooner rather than later.” Trina sounded genuinely sincere when she added, “But I hope things turn out well for you.”
Trina was quiet the rest of the way to Highland Springs and Seth felt terrible for spoiling what had started out as such a fun excursion for her. Once they arrived at the store, he and Martha took Timothy and Tanner with them, despite the boys’ expressed preference for accompanying Trina. Seth figured she needed time to collect her items in peace, and besides, he didn’t want to mar her evening further by making any more cloddish remarks.
* * *
Trina was relieved when Sunday came; it meant she’d made it through one week in Willow Creek. Only a little more than eight weeks to go until May first. She rose early to attend the nearest Englisch church, which, according to the map on her phone, was two and a half miles away. Since she didn’t have a car and couldn’t afford to hire a taxi to come from Lancaster, she had to walk. On the way, she hummed as she thought about Seth, Martha and the boys traveling to the worship services hosted this week by an Amish family, the Planks.
The sky was overcast with white clouds and Trina hoped the light wasn’t bothering Martha’s eyes. Seth had bought his grandmother a new pair of sunglasses the evening before, but they didn’t fit over Martha’s regular glasses as well as the pair she’d borrowed from Trina. When Trina told Martha she should consider going to an eye doctor and getting prescription sunglasses, Seth said he doubted that was necessary and Martha seemed to agree. Trina was puzzled by this; they didn’t seem excessively frugal, but she supposed they might have considered the expense to be a waste.
Because it was chillier than Trina expected and she hadn’t worn a hat, halfway to church she stopped and let her hair down from its ponytail so it would provide a natural covering for her ears. Fortunately there was no wind as she trod up and down the hilly roads of Willow Creek, but by the time she arrived at the little church and ducked into the women’s room, her nose and cheeks were bright pink, and she felt famished from hiking in the cold. She ran her hands under warm water and then joined the small but friendly congregation. The pastor’s sermon on God’s faithfulness was comforting to her and she especially loved worshipping through song. She hadn’t realized until today how long it had been since she was able to sing in church; ever since her mother died, she was afraid to lift up her voice, in fear she’d begin crying in public. But today she sang as loudly and cheerfully as anyone.
After the service, the elderly couple sitting next to Trina turned to introduce themselves to her as Sherman and Mabel Brown. They were delighted to learn she was new in town and they quickly invited her to the potluck dinner being held in the basement of the building. Trina’s stomach rumbled as she accepted their offer.
She was eating her second plate of spaghetti and meatballs when a young man approached the table where Sherman and Mabel had introduced her to another couple with two children. The man took a seat next to Trina. Dark-haired and soft-spoken, Ethan Gray told her he was the local pediatrician. Like Trina, he’d only arrived in Willow Creek recently. After dessert—Trina had both a cupcake and a brownie—Ethan offered to give her a ride home, but Trina declined. Warm and invigorated again, she wanted to see Wheeler’s Bridge, which was located not too far from Main Street. Trina’s mother had told her that when she went grocery shopping in town as a girl, instead of walking on the roads she always followed the creek behind their house all the way to the bridge. She said the route took her through the thick woods and beautiful Amish farmland, so Trina was eager to journey where her mother had once found beauty.
Following the directions on her phone’s GPS, Trina had been walking for almost half an hour when it began drizzling. Within minutes, she felt the prickle of sleet against her scalp and she dashed to take cover beneath a willow tree in the middle of a field. Since the tree had no foliage yet, it provided little shelter and Trina’s hair became ropy and wet as she consulted her phone to figure out a shortcut home. She concluded if she cut across the field she was standing in and took a short jaunt through a wooded area, she’d wind up on a street that ran parallel to Main Street. Since it was the Sabbath, the Amish shops were closed, but she hoped there would be a convenience store or a coffee shop she could stop in at to dry off and get a hot chocolate.
But she must have gotten confused in the woods because when she finally emerged some forty minutes later, she recognized the fence as being the same one that bordered the east end of the field where she first began. Or was it? There were so many fences and farms in Willow Creek it was difficult to distinguish one from another. And since the trees and hills hadn’t yet begun to show signs of spring, it wasn’t even as if the walk had been especially scenic. Worst of all, by now it was raining so hard it was soaking right through her jacket. Trina had no choice but to use her phone to navigate along the roads instead of taking a shortcut.
By that time, she’d been walking for over an hour, her toes were numb and she wished she’d accepted a ride from Ethan. She was half tempted to flag down a passing car, except that no cars passed her. She had just trudged up a long, steep hill when her phone rang. It had been so long since she’d received a phone call, she jerked when it vibrated in her pocket.
“Hello?” she answered, pushing a string of wet hair from her eyes. Droplets rolled off her eyebrows and she squinted against the rain.
The caller, Kurt Johnson, explained he was a realtor who’d heard she had a small house that might be for sale. Who could have told him that? she wondered. Kurt asked if they could meet soon. Just then, a car came over the hill at a high speed, its wheels spraying Trina with dirt and mud as it passed.
“Oh, no!” she wailed.
“I’m sorry?” Kurt asked.
“Nothing,” Trina replied. “Listen, this isn’t a gut time—a good time—for me to talk. Try again later, okay? I have to go. Bye.” Hanging up before he could say anything else, Trina felt kind of rude but she didn’t think it was very polite of him to call her on a Sunday, either.
Great, she thought, looking down. Now this skirt is muddy and I haven’t even washed the other one yet. Can this excursion possibly get any worse?
* * *
As Seth crested the hill, he saw a flash of lavender on the descending side. Only one person he knew wore a jacket that color: Trina. Her dark hair was plastered to her head as she stood on the roadside four miles from home, talking on a cell phone in the pouring rain.
“Narrish Englischer.” Seated next to him, Fannie said aloud what Seth was thinking: Trina was a crazy Englischer. But she was also his boys’ nanny. And she was extremely wet. So, despite the fact he was technically courting Fannie—really he was just taking her to his home for a Sunday afternoon visit—he knew he had to stop and offer Trina a ride. The very last thing he wanted to do.
“Why are you pulling over?” Fannie questioned after they passed Trina by several yards and he had time and room to halt the horse and buggy.
“That’s my buwe’s nanny. She lives next door to me. I’m sorry but I have to see if she needs a ride.”
Fannie’s brown eyes bulged with surprise. “An Englisch nanny takes care of your kinner? No wonder you’re eager to marry again!”
Seth’s own eyes widened at her comment. It seemed a brash thing for her to say, considering they’d only just met, but he recognized there was truth to her remark. Like him, Fannie had two young children and was eager to wed.
“You’re bringing a woman to our house?” Martha had asked the previous night after they returned from the market and Timothy and Tanner were in bed. “Do you think that’s a gut idea?”
&nbs
p; “Why not? I need to find out how she gets along with the buwe. And with you.”
Martha shook her head. “I’m not the one courting her. Neither are the buwe. And I dare say you won’t be for long, either, if your idea of courtship is to bring her home and test her compatibility with the kinner and me. Besides, I didn’t even make a dessert.”
Seth was stumped by Martha’s remarks. He and Fannie weren’t youth; they’d both been married before, and according to Belinda, their shared objective in courting again was to find a suitable parent for their children as well as a spouse. If things went well today, he fully intended to meet Fannie’s daughters next Sunday. He hadn’t, however, intended for Fannie to meet Trina. Certainly not today and possibly not at all.
Sighing, he hopped down from the buggy. “What are you doing out here?” he asked when Trina approached.
She put her hand to her forehead as if to shield her eyes from the sun, but clearly it was the rain she didn’t want interfering with her vision. “Am I ever glad to see you!” she explained. “I’m lost. I was trying to—”
She looked so bedraggled and worn out that Seth cut her off. “Never mind. You can tell me in the buggy. You’ll have to sit in the back.”
After Trina was seated and Seth had made introductions, Trina apologized for interrupting their afternoon. Her teeth chattered as she spoke, but she projected her voice so they could hear her. “I was coming home from church when the skies opened up. I started out by using my GPS but then I thought I’d figured out a shortcut through the woods, but I must have gotten all turned around because I ended up back where I started.”
“It must be so difficult when you have to rely on technology to get where you need to go,” Fannie said over her shoulder and clicked her tongue against her teeth.
Seth couldn’t tell whether her comment was meant as sympathy or criticism, but suddenly he found himself defending Trina. “She wasn’t using technology to get where she wanted to go—she was using her feet. Which is more than you and I are doing.”
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