The Amish Bride

by Mindy Starns Clark

“I know, but joining the church, expected or not, should be about far more than that. It should be a step of faith, not just of tradition.”

  I didn’t have to be able to see my mother to imagine the exasperated look on her face.

  “But you,” she added, her voice softening. “Your decision is completely unexpected—which makes it all the more real, I’m sure.”

  The middle of October, six weeks after I returned to Indiana, I approached Rosalee and asked if she would consider me as a business partner. I would invest the money I had saved, making repairs and updating the equipment for a fourth of the profits.

  “I realize, in time,” I said, “that you’ll sell the Home Place.”

  She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then she didn’t say anything.

  “But I’m willing to cut my losses if the new owner won’t allow me to continue with the bakery.”

  I was going to be a single Amish woman without close family nearby. I would need a way to support myself. But by the time she sold the Home Place, I hoped to have enough saved to lease a shop in town. Maybe by then I could bring Penny in on my business.

  After a few days of prayer and consulting with the bishop, Rosalee agreed to take me on as a partner. She also told me her plans had always been to leave the Home Place to Luke.

  We were in the bakery kitchen and I stepped backward, bumping against the worktable. “Does he know it?”

  “Ya, I told him yesterday.”

  My heart swelled for my friend. It didn’t matter that Tom would get the dairy. God had provided a place for Luke, the place he loved most on earth. I regretted ever spending an ounce of time worrying about Luke’s position in life. He’d been right. It wasn’t my concern.

  He’d known to trust God all along.

  I made a batch of caramel apple dumplings to celebrate and then had a heart-to-heart talk with Luke, explaining that I had no expectation that I would keep working at the bakery after he took over the farm. I knew he would marry someday and have a family of his own. I had no intention of being the old-maid cousin by marriage, hanging around, making everyone uncomfortable.

  He listened and then said, “So be it.” He was quiet for a few days after that, but soon we were back to talking every afternoon as always. He would come into the bakery at closing time, and I would pour him a cup of coffee and serve him the best of what was left. Sometimes I would talk through improvements with him. Sometimes we would still be talking when Eddie arrived from school and then I would help him with his English and both he and Luke would help me with my Pennsylvania Dutch.

  The first of November, as I walked from the bakery to the house, Eddie called out to me from the edge of the woods. “Come play with us!” He and Luke had left the bakery about a half hour earlier, and I thought they had gone home.

  “Hide-and-seek,” he said. “With me and Luke.”

  I couldn’t help but grin as I hurried toward him. “Who’s it?”

  He pointed back into the woods, which was a blaze of red, yellow, and orange leaves against the dark green of the pines and firs.

  “Luke.” Eddie cupped his hands around his mouth, as he turned, and shouted, “Ella’s playing too!”

  I followed Eddie to the right, behind the smokehouse, but when he took a trail toward the creek, I opted to hide in the brush that was turning scarlet from the late autumn cold, behind the red pine tree. It wasn’t too long until I heard the little boy shout, indicating he’d been caught. I crouched down farther and pulled the brush in front of me.

  After a while I heard footsteps. I shifted my head. Eddie led the way along the trail, followed by Luke.

  “Where is she?” Eddie’s tone was exasperated.

  “She’s pretty good at this, huh?” Luke stopped in the middle of the path, took his straw hat off, and ran his hand through his dark hair. His gray eyes twinkled.

  “Let’s give up,” Eddie said.

  “Nah,” Luke said. “Let’s keep trying.”

  There was something about his words—and his tone—that made my heart skip a beat. He turned around then, his eyes practically locking with mine. My heart skipped another beat. And then another, terrifying me. What was I feeling?

  Luke was my best friend. I couldn’t feel anything more for him.

  They continued down the path, or so I thought, until a minute later when Luke’s hand darted through the shrubs and slid across my back.

  “You’re it,” he said as Eddie’s laughter rang through the woods.

  I wondered about my feelings for Luke over the next weeks. Was I transferring all of my emotion from Ezra on to him? I knew enough time had passed that this wasn’t a rebound thing, but was it that “got to have a boyfriend” thing, even though I’d vowed to give that up? I’d told Mom I wasn’t boy crazy anymore. And I was so sure I wasn’t.

  I prayed about it every morning and night and thought about it off and on each day.

  About a week later, after Luke had his cup of coffee in the afternoon plus several of my orange frosted cookies, he asked me if something was wrong.

  “No,” I was quick to answer. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve been acting funny. Kind of cold.”

  “To you?”

  He nodded.

  “No, nothing’s wrong.” I grabbed the cloth and began wiping off the counter, turning away from him, my heart pounding, praying for God to take my feelings away. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I didn’t want to lose my best friend.

  Fall turned into winter. I was able to make a brief but lovely trip home for Christmas without missing any of my classes to join the Amish church. The very last class was held the end of January, and then the next church meeting was held at the Home Place, the second Sunday of February. Rosalee and I spent the week cleaning and cooking and baking. The service was long, and the living room grew hot with so many bodies in the house on what turned out to be an unseasonably warm day. Then, at the end, Preacher Jacob said we would be having a baptism.

  He called me up and I kneeled, bowing my head, barely able to comprehend his words. Thankfully I’d listened closely in class. When it was time, the water splashed over my kapp, over my forehead, rushing down my face. I tipped my head upward, smiling. When I stood and started back to my seat, brushing the wetness from my face, I caught Luke’s eye. He nodded solemnly.

  Rosalee and I, with help from the other women, readied the food while Luke directed the rearranging of the benches around tables. After the meal was served, I found my way out to the lawn and leaned against the bare tulip tree. A group of girls was out there, most a few years younger than me. I said hello and they returned the greeting, but then all of their eyes fell behind me. I turned. Luke was coming down the steps.

  I gazed at the girls again, recognizing Naomi from all those months ago when I first arrived in Indiana. She must have been visiting a friend in our district. I couldn’t help but wonder if Luke had his eye on her too. He could easily marry now that he knew he would have a place of his own.

  “Ella,” he was behind me and I turned around. “May I speak with you?”

  The girls stirred, but I didn’t dare look at them. Luke stepped toward the driveway and I followed. Overhead, a flock of geese flew south.

  Luke’s hand bumped against mine as we walked, unintentionally I was sure. It was a minute before he spoke, until we were definitely out of hearing from the others.

  “I was wondering,” he said, stopping and turning toward me. “If you would go to the singing with me tonight.”

  “Me?”

  He nodded.

  I wiped the palms of my hands on my apron as my face grew warm. I knew it was flushed, most likely beet red by now.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  My head pounded. Why was he asking me this? Did he want me to meet some of the other young men in the area? Was he hoping I’d get married and out of his way, sooner rather than later?

  “Ya,” I answer
ed, trying to keep the sadness from my voice. “I’ll go.”

  I sat behind the girls from church that evening, while Luke sat at a table on the other side of the Yoders’ barn. The evening was crisp and cold, but my nerves kept me warm. I did my best not to work myself into a dither. I sang along to the songs I knew and sort of hummed the others.

  Luke chatted with one of the other young men for a few minutes when the singing ended, while I stood by myself, watching the other girls. It wasn’t long until he was ready to go and we were back in his family’s buggy.

  “That was fun,” I said, wondering if I would ever fit in with people my own age. At least I had Rosalee and Eddie.

  Luke glanced at me. “I’ve never really liked the singings.”

  “So why do you go?”

  He chuckled. “I usually don’t.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded.

  All this time I’d imagined him living it up on Sunday nights.

  “But you have your eye on one of the girls, right? Maybe on Naomi.” It wasn’t as if I’d ever seen them together, but that wasn’t unusual for an Amish couple.

  “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “From the first time I visited the dairy. Remember? She and her sister gave me a ride. And later you said you had…” What had he said?

  “You asked if I was going to the singing that night. That was all.”

  “Oh,” I answered. Maybe I’d just assumed that’s whom he was going with.

  He chuckled again and shook his head. “I actually do have my eye on someone.”

  A fist wrapped around my heart, and it was all I could do not to moan.

  We rode along in silence as we passed under the train trestle, me trying to figure out if I wanted to know who it was. I was pretty sure I wanted things to stay as they were—or as they had been five minutes ago, rather—forever.

  But nothing ever stays the same. Somehow, I would get over this and go on, just as all of the women in my family had persevered in spite of their pain.

  “So who do you have your eye on, then?” I asked, my own voice sounding foreign in my ears.

  He turned his head toward me, fully, his lively eyes locking on mine as he stopped the horse at the highway. “You.”

  My hand went to my neck. “Me?”

  He nodded, his face serious now.

  “For how long?”

  “The first day I met you. In the café. Couldn’t you tell how nervous I was?”

  “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  “Well, you had a boyfriend. You weren’t Amish. You weren’t going to stay in Indiana…”

  “Oh, Luke.”

  “Today really was my first opportunity…”

  “Oh, Luke.”

  “…to court you.” He turned right onto the highway. Looking straight ahead again, he said, “Would you like to go to the singing next week?”

  As much as I didn’t like the singings, I knew it was the way things were done.

  “Ya,” I said. “I’d like that ever so much.” And I left it at that, determined to trust God as best I could.

  EPILOGUE

  As always, life with Luke moved at an even pace as he improved the farm and slowly renovated the outbuildings and then the house. In the meantime, I kept working on the bakery, ordering a new stove, working on the marketing, and trying out new recipes. Rosalee still opened the shop every morning, but most days she only worked a few hours. After six months she turned the books over to me. Luke helped me expand the distribution, and he began helping me with a business plan too. Pierre even started ordering more than just sticky buns and actually made a request for one of my Plain cakes.

  “For a very simple wedding I’m catering,” he told me.

  Our courting moved at the same even pace. We were pretty much friends during the week, and a little more than that on Saturday and Sunday evenings. Even on those times when he came to Rosalee’s for a snack after a singing, he was still reserved with me, though. And as much as I wanted to declare my love to him, I knew I couldn’t. I had to wait until he was ready. And if he wasn’t—or never would be—I’d trust God for my future. For a recovering boy-crazy girl, it wasn’t easy. But the funny thing was, the more I depended on God, the better I became at it.

  I also grew closer to Luke’s family. Of course, my relationship with Eddie was as easy as ever, and Millie and I continued to grow our friendship. She did marry but continued to help with the bakery, taking over the orders and overseeing the distribution, including to Penny’s Luncheonette, as she called it, so as not to compete too much with Kendra and Wes’s Downtown Café.

  Cora’s health improved once the well water situation was taken care of. At the age of forty-one she had her fifth baby. A little girl and a blessing to all, especially her next oldest brother. Shortly after the baby was born, Darryl came into the bakery and asked to talk to me. I felt puzzled by his uncharacteristic shyness.

  “I want to thank you for the information about the well.” He paused, then took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “And I want to say I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. I know I hurt you when I burned those drawings. I thought doing God’s will meant keeping all the rules, but in doing that I forgot about God’s command to love my neighbor as myself. You’ve been a gut neighbor to my family, and I thank you for that.”

  He left quickly, before I could tell him I’d made my peace with him in my heart long ago.

  I began to see things more from Darryl’s point of view once I could appreciate how different Luke was from him and from Tom. I could see that Darryl loved both of his sons, even though he had trouble understanding one of them. And I knew Darryl felt deeply responsible for raising his children to follow God and the traditions of the church.

  I wanted to be with Luke more and more. Not because of the bakery or because the Home Place would be his or because he was strong and grew more handsome with each passing day. I wanted to be with Luke because he was kind and loving. Because he prayed with me. Because he showed me the love of Christ. Because there was no one else in the world I wanted to tell about my day and how I felt and what I thought. There was no one who listened to me more honestly than Luke.

  But it wasn’t just that. There was no one else I wanted to have tell me about his day, either. No one. Not one single friend I’d ever had.

  There were plenty of times I wished he talked more. And there were times I wished he didn’t move at a snail’s pace, especially when it came to our relationship. But then, after a year and a half of going to singings and volleyball games with him, on a Sunday evening in early August at Rosalee’s under the canopy of the tulip tree, he took my hand in an unusual gesture of affection.

  I leaned toward him as he spoke.

  “Are you staying?” he asked, peering at me from under the brim of his straw hat.

  “In Indiana?”

  He shook his head. “In the church.” With his free hand he straightened one of the ties of my kapp. Then he met my gaze.

  “Ya.” My pulse quickened as I spoke. “Why do you ask?” After courting for so long, I could only hope another question was coming.

  Luke tightened his hold on my hand. “I just wanted to make sure your commitment was true.”

  “It is,” was my simple reply.

  “Because if you plan to stay, then I hope you’ll stay with me.”

  My heart began to pound. My eyes locked on his. But in one of those rare times in my life, words failed me.

  Turning more fully toward me, he took my other hand. “Will you marry me, Ella?”

  My eyes filled with tears. “Ya,” I answered, as sure as I’d ever been in my entire life. “I will.”

  He leaned forward and touched his lips to mine, tentative at first. Then he took me in his arms and kissed me with surprising intensity. I met his passion in return, knowing this was exactly where I belonged, for a lifetime.

  All the months of courting, of waiting, of wondering fell away.


  Our kisses, our embrace, our commitment, all of it felt so right, so full of passion and tenderness and promise. In that moment, the world seemed to disappear—except for Luke and me and the Home Place all around us.

  As he pulled away, his eyes danced. “You’d best be deciding where you want to marry. Here or in Lancaster. But don’t tell me now. Talk to your mamm first.”

  I would talk to my mamm, but I already knew. I had it all planned. Mom and Zed would come. And Izzy too, considering from Zed’s letters it was obvious they were still spending a lot of time together. Ada and Will and their family would all come as well. Little Abe was toddling after his sisters now, and I was anxious to see him. I knew for sure Lexie and James would come from Oregon. Knowing Penny and Rosalee, they would insist on hosting all of them. I could only hope that Mammi could also make it, accompanied by Aunt Klara and Uncle Alexander, not only because I wanted her here for me but because she needed to come for herself. To make peace. To close this chapter of her life.

  I knew it was a long shot, but I even hoped Aunt Giselle would come from Switzerland. I longed for a reunion for all of us, all together before Mammi passed on. A homecoming was what we needed. What better place to have it than at the Home Place?

  I was blessed beyond belief that it would be my permanent home. My haymet. And I would begin the rest of my life with Luke here.

  That night I drew a new maze in my notebook. I kept the cottage and motorcycle, the box and book. But I added a cake, a creek, two geese, and a red pine tree. At the center was the Home Place. But instead of putting it in a daisy, as Sarah had done with hers and I had copied all those months ago, I drew mine in a hand.

  It was the hand of the One who had a plan for me all along.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. Ella is hurt that her mother didn’t tell her who Zed’s birth mother and father were sooner. Was Marta right to withhold the information from Ella as long as she did?

  2. Ella describes herself as “boy crazy.” What has made her that way? What about Ezra is so attractive to her?

  3. Sarah’s book resonates with Ella. Are there documents, artifacts, or stories passed down through your family that have impacted your life?