Seth huffed so loudly Trina thought it was the horse at first. “I’ve told you, we don’t call it dating. But when you’ve been married before you know what you’re looking for in a spouse.”
“It may be true that you know what qualities you’re looking for in a woman, but finding them doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve found love, does it?” Trina understood she was crossing a line by talking about such things with an Amish man but she felt too argumentative to give in.
“The Amish tend to base our decisions on practical considerations, not emotional ones. Love is a choice. It’s something you work at developing. It’s not something that you either have or don’t have.”
“So you’d marry a woman you’re not in love with?”
“Not that I think it’s appropriate to be having this conversation, but jah, I’d marry a woman I wasn’t necessarily ‘in love with.’ Because being ‘in love’ is just an emotion and emotions are fickle. They’re dangerous,” Seth explained. He added, “Over time and with work and mutual cooperation, a couple can kumme to love each other deeply.”
Trina didn’t know how to respond to that. She didn’t necessarily disagree with Seth, but she certainly didn’t agree fully, either. After all, her mother had fallen in love with her father based on her feelings, and look where that had gotten her. Conversely, her mother’s father had shown a severe lack of emotion and that was damaging, too.
Trina swallowed and forced herself to say, “Well, then, I’m glad for you if you’ve found what you’re looking for in a spouse. As soon as I know whether the people who buy the house are Englisch or Amish, I’ll be sure to tell you.”
* * *
Seth couldn’t believe he’d just indicated to Trina he intended to marry Fannie. He felt as verbally awkward as he was physically, touching her knee, bumping her hand; it had thrown him off. Especially since all week he’d tried to restrict his contact and dull his conversations with her. Now she was sitting right next to him, talking about one of the most intimate subjects they could discuss. As much as he denied the power of emotions, his were wreaking havoc on him. He feared he’d come across as even more of a dope if he tried to explain.
The truth was, he wasn’t actually planning to make a fence for Fannie’s daughters—he’d just been thinking aloud. In his mind, it was more like a complaint, as in, “If I were to marry Fannie, I’d better put a fence up because her girls are ill behaved.” The emphasis had been on the girls’ behavior, not on marriage, but how would Trina have known that? He was relieved he wouldn’t have to see her the following day. Maybe by Monday some of his embarrassment would have burned off and he wouldn’t feel so oafish around her again.
After the next morning’s worship, Timothy excitedly asked, “Can we kumme with you to get Fannie and her dechder, Daed?”
Seth didn’t think it was a good idea to have the children’s initial introduction to each other taking place within the confines of a crowded buggy. “Neh, but as soon as Hope and Greta arrive, we’ll all take a walk along the creek together. For now I want you to stay here and help Groossmammi with whatever she needs.”
“What I need is for Trina to kumme and help me put together a light supper,” Martha grumbled.
“Neh!” Seth objected. He couldn’t think of anything worse than having Trina around after their conversation yesterday. She’d no doubt scrutinize every interaction between him and Fannie and see there was no spark—no emotional connection—between them. “Trina is probably still at her church. Besides, Fannie will help you with whatever you need to do in the kitchen.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Martha muttered.
Her comment made Seth wonder why he was going through with introducing Fannie’s children to his. He didn’t want to make his household problems worse by bringing in disobedient children and a pushy woman who clashed with Martha. But as he was pulling out of their lane onto the main road, he saw a car turning onto Trina’s lane: Ethan was giving Trina a ride home. Again. Seth could guess what this meant; they were falling in love. It served as a reminder to Seth to stay focused on following through with his own plans for matrimony.
The girls sang all the way back to his house and Fannie sang with them. While he appreciated their desire to praise the Lord with songs on the Sabbath, Seth felt like Fannie was so involved in amusing her children she had no time to speak with him, and his thoughts again wandered to Trina. Her speaking voice was so euphonious he wondered what she sounded like singing. Once, before entering the house, he’d heard her warbling through the door as she was washing dishes, but as soon as he turned the knob, she stopped... A dip in the road jarred the buggy and Seth realized he shouldn’t be thinking of Trina, especially while he was courting Fannie, so he joined the others in song until they arrived at his house.
Martha must have told the boys they could wait outside as long as they didn’t leave the porch, because they were both hopping up and down on the stairs without venturing into the yard when the buggy pulled up.
“Do you want to see the dens we built by the creek?” Tanner asked as soon as he and Timothy had been introduced to Hope and Greta.
“How about if we go inside first?” Fannie suggested. “The girls want to meet your groossmammi and I’m sure she’s prepared us something to eat. We don’t want it to get cold.”
Seth thought it was presumptuous of Fannie to think there was a hot meal waiting. Firstly, he hoped Martha hadn’t used the oven or stove, no matter how competent she said she was around it. Secondly, on the Sabbath most of Willow Creek’s Amish had cold cuts and fruit or molasses and peanut butter on bread, not a warm meal. But Seth had warned the boys they needed to be polite to their guests and he was pleased when they agreed with Fannie. They even allowed the girls to enter the house first.
“Wilkom,” Martha said in their general direction. She was standing at the sink, drying her hands on a towel. She bent down toward Greta and said, “I’m Martha and you must be Greta.” Standing a little straighter so her head was even with Hope’s, she added, “Which means you’re Hope, right?”
“How did she know that?” Hope asked her mother, as if Martha couldn’t hear. “You said she was blind.”
Seth cringed but his grandmother, who was being as polite as he’d warned the boys they had to be, just chuckled and said, “People sometimes say bats are blind, too, but have you ever seen one fly into a wall?”
Hope shook her head. “Neh.”
Timothy told her, “That’s because they have something called echo...um, echo...”
Seth helped him out. “Echolocation.”
“Echolocation,” Timothy repeated. “Trina read it to us in a book Ruth Graber brought from the library.”
“You have echo—the thing he said?” Hope asked Martha incredulously.
Tanner answered before Martha could. “Neh. Only bats have that. But my groossmammi has eyes in the back of her head even if the eyes in front of her head are blurry. So if you do something disobedient behind her, she’ll catch you.”
Seth, Martha and Fannie all laughed heartily. Martha must have used that expression in front of the boys. Trina was right; they seemed to take everything literally. But once again, Seth had to banish thoughts of her.
The seven of them sat down for dinner and Seth was relieved to see that today the girls’ table manners were about as good as his boys’, even though Greta spilled a glass of milk in a way Seth suspected was deliberate.
“I’m sorry. This happens daily,” Fannie said. “She’s at that age, you know, where her fingers are still too small to grasp a glass in one hand, but she forgets to use both hands. It’s probably like that with Timothy and Tanner, too.”
Although his grandmother couldn’t have seen the way Greta tipped her glass over, Seth suspected if it had been Timothy or Tanner, Martha would have told them an accident that happened every day wasn’t an accident. Instead, she simply
said, “No sense crying over spilled milk,” and asked Seth to refill Greta’s glass for her.
“But I don’t want more milk,” Greta whined when he set it in front of her.
“I’ll drink it,” Fannie quickly offered. “It will taste gut with dessert.”
Now Seth was perturbed. Didn’t Fannie ever wait until she was offered? “I’m not certain Groossmammi had an opportunity to make dessert yesterday, since we didn’t get to the market until later last night—”
“You’re right. I didn’t. I know it’s the Sabbath, but I don’t think there’s any harm in my whipping up a batch of cookies in the oven while you’re taking a walk. It’s a way to show hospitality and the Lord loves it when we reflect His character like that,” Martha rationalized.
As the others were donning their coats and shawls, Seth whispered to Martha, “You don’t have to make dessert, Groossmammi. Really. We’ve had plenty to eat.”
“You just don’t want me starting another fire.”
She was right; her safety was part of Seth’s concern. But he was also annoyed Fannie was putting Martha in a position of feeling she wasn’t being hospitable. What did the woman expect from his eighty-three-year-old grandmother?
Martha continued, “I’ll be fine. Just turn the oven on 375 for me before you go. By the time you return, I’ll be done and you can check to make sure it’s off. Nothing is on the stovetop so there’s no chance of anything catching fire.”
Seth wanted to protest but he knew that would be adding insult to injury. Especially if Fannie became worried, too, and offered to stay behind and help Martha bake.
“Denki, Groossmammi,” he whispered, kissing her on top of her prayer kapp before heading to the creek with the others.
* * *
Trina spread herself across a big rock alongside the creek. Her mother had referred to the boulder as Bed Rock, which was a play on words and also a descriptive phrase because the large rock’s surface was as flat as a bed. The day was unseasonably warm and Trina positioned her face to the sun to absorb its warmth. But her head was thrumming so she sat up again and loosened her hair from its elastic band. Then she removed her jacket, rolled it into a pillow and lay back against it. That was better.
She was out of sorts and she didn’t know why. That morning in church, she’d asked Sherman and Mabel if they knew a reputable realtor in the area and they recommended someone in the congregation. That person was out of town, but Mabel promised to introduce Trina to her as soon as the realtor returned.
This should have made Trina happy, but instead she was downcast. She didn’t like to think about leaving Willow Creek. Her mother was in Heaven; of that she was sure. But there was something about being in the town where Patience had lived as a girl that made Trina feel closer to her. Not all of the memories of her mother’s childhood there were pleasant, but many of them—especially those that didn’t involve her father—were, and it brought Trina joy to see the places or meet the people her mother once knew.
Plus, Trina was growing terribly fond of the boys. Instead of reminding them she’d be leaving soon, she should have worked harder at reminding herself. Maybe the house won’t sell right away and I can watch them until school lets out in June, she thought. But then what? Wasn’t she postponing the inevitable? What did she hope to gain by staying longer in Willow Creek?
She knew the answer: she wanted more time with Seth. She felt like a traitor to her mother to even think the thought, but she couldn’t help it. She liked him in a way she hadn’t liked any man before. It was partly because he was so loving toward his family and partly because he’d been protective and understanding of her.
It was also because of his dependability and loyalty. With all of the other important males in her life, once times got tough, the men got lost. Her grandfather emotionally abandoned her mother when he lost his wife. Her father took off when he was confronted with the responsibilities of parenthood. Her boyfriend dumped Trina when her mother was ill. Seth had lost his wife and mother and brother, but he stayed true to his faith and to his boys and grandmother. In a way, he’d stayed true to Trina, too, by making up instead of firing her after they’d had an argument. No man had ever apologized like that for hurting her before.
Granted, theirs was a small argument. And she was his employee, so it was in his best interest to reconcile. So she feared she was kidding herself to believe he felt the same strong pull toward her that she felt toward him. And even if he did, there was no chance he’d ever act on those feelings. There was no chance he’d date her; the very term was too Englisch for his liking.
What if I were to become Amish? The thought whisked over her like a warm breeze rattling a few branches overhead. No, Trina could no sooner convert than Seth could become Englisch. If Patience Kauffman had wanted her daughter to be Amish, she would have returned to her community after Richard Smith divorced her. But Trina’s mother wanted the exact opposite. She chose poverty and isolation instead of bringing Trina up in an Amish community, so there was no way Trina was going to convert just to capture the attention of an Amish man.
An Amish man, who, at that very moment, was courting someone he intended to wed. Don’t lose sight of that, she told herself. Yet no matter how illogical it was, her emotions said otherwise. She actually felt sick with longing for Seth. Maybe he was right—maybe emotions were dangerous. She opened her eyes but the sun made her see blinking spots so she closed them again.
She must have dropped off to sleep because she was awakened by the voices of children. She sat up to find Timothy and Tanner clambering up the steep side of the rock.
“Hi, Trina,” they chorused. “We’re playing mountain lions. These are our new friends, Hope and Greta.”
Trina greeted them and then as she pulled her jacket back on, she asked if they’d all wandered off by themselves.
“Daed said it was alright as long as we stopped at this rock,” Timothy explained.
Standing below, Hope rolled her eyes and said, “I told Seth I’d keep an eye on them.”
Trina didn’t know whether to think the girl was funny or precocious. “I’ll climb down and let you mountain lions have this rock, then,” she said.
“Aww,” whined Tanner. “Please don’t leave. You can be the lioness of the pride.”
“Jah,” Timothy agreed, admiringly adding, “Your hair looks like a mane.”
Trina touched her head. She’d forgotten she’d loosened her hair. Where had her elastic band gone? She thought she’d set it right beside her. She didn’t care. She had to get down from the rock before Fannie and Seth arrived. Not only did she not want to see Seth, but she didn’t want either Seth or Fannie to see her. There was no ladylike way to descend the rock and she didn’t want to appear immodest in front of Fannie. But it was too late.
“Why, look, it’s the buwe’s nanny,” Fannie said, and Trina bristled at being referred to by her occupation instead of her name.
“You may have forgotten, but her name is Trina,” Seth said. Trina could have hugged him for that. “Sorry if the kinner interrupted your peace.”
“Daed, we’re not kinner. We’re cubs,” Tanner interjected. “And Trina’s the lioness of our pride.”
“Actually, I was just leaving, Tanner. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Trina said. She scooted on her bottom to the edge of the rock and peered over. If she jumped, she’d probably fall to her knees and hands upon landing. But if she used the same crevices to lower herself as she’d used to climb up, she’d appear unladylike. And now that she’d wiggled this far to the edge, the only way she could lower herself using the crevices was to roll onto her belly and squirm back to the other side of the rock. She dangled her legs over the side, wondering what to do.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” Seth offered, stretching his arms upward.
Was he going to lift her down under her armpits like a child? She couldn’t have been more
embarrassed. He couldn’t reach that high, so she’d have to jump into his arms. What if she knocked him over?
“You’ll have to push yourself off a little to clear the edge,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you. It might be clumsy but I won’t let you get hurt.”
Trina hesitated. It might be better just to jump without his help and take her knocks.
“Buwe, I want you to kumme down, too. You don’t want to get stuck like Trina did,” Fannie instructed. Timothy and Tanner were the ones who’d shown Trina how to navigate the rock in the first place; they were expert climbers. Still, they obeyed Fannie without complaint.
After they scrambled down, Timothy said to the girls standing nearby, “Kumme, we’ll show you where the elephants live in the grass by the water. They’re prey for lions.”
“I’ll follow them while you help her,” Fannie directed and the five of them disappeared into the woods.
“I really can get down by myself now,” Trina told Seth. “I just didn’t want everyone watching me. Please, go ahead and catch up with the others. I’ll be fine.”
Seth didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. “Just jump, Trina. I’ll catch you. You can trust me.”
The words resonated in Trina’s heart. What man could she ever really trust? “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. “One, two, three!”
She lurched forward and her hair flew out around her like a cape. Seth didn’t so much catch her as ease her to the ground in a sort of awkward embrace. Right before he released her, she felt his beard softly brush her cheek.
“Ugh,” Seth groaned.
“Sorry. Did I kick you?”
“Neh, you’re just a lot heavier than you look.”
“Coming from you, that’s a compliment.” Trina giggled.
Her New Amish Family Page 10