by Leslie Gould
“What about Cate and Pete?”
“They’ll be helping get ready for the wedding.”
Her voice grew tense. “Addie and Jonathan?”
“It’s his busiest time of the year.”
She stopped. “Then let’s talk about whom to invite. Mervin, of course,” she said.
“I don’t know if he can get the time off work.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Honestly, Molly. It doesn’t sound as if you want us to go.”
“I’m just trying to be realistic.”
“But it’s not like you to be pessimistic.”
A dog barked in the distance. “I’m not,” I said. “Just practical.” The dog barked again, this time louder.
Hannah narrowed her eyes and shook her head, but then her gaze moved past me, to something in the distance. I registered the beat of hooves behind me. Then the frightened snort of a horse.
Hannah stepped backward. I froze.
A deep voice yelled, “Watch out!”
I stepped toward Hannah and turned at the same time, just as the palomino horse and Leon, I was sure, whizzed by.
He pulled up on the reins and then jerked them to the side.
I gasped and, trying to cover my fear, said to Hannah, “I’m okay.”
She put her arm around me, probably trying to swallow her laughter.
Leon turned the horse around and came back toward us at a pace too fast for my liking. “Sorry,” he called out.
“It’s all right,” I said, trying my best to smile. “It’s a horse farm, after all.”
His hat, which mostly covered his dark hair, looked like something a country western singer would wear. Underneath the brim, his big eyes—the color of forget-me-nots—shone as he dismounted quickly, holding on to the reins. He towered over me—he was well over six feet, probably by a couple of inches. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Are you Hannah?”
My friend laughed behind me. “No, I am.”
He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He sounded hesitant. I couldn’t imagine anyone so handsome being shy, but perhaps he was. “You’re the horsewoman?” he asked as he let go of her hand.
“Jah,” Hannah said, “I like to ride.”
Next he turned to me and extended his hand again. “I’m Leon Fisher.” He smiled quickly, his white teeth a contrast to his tanned face.
“I’m Molly Zook. Hannah’s friend.”
He shook my hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Molly.”
I couldn’t help but smile. No one had ever called me that before.
“I am awfully sorry I scared you.” He let go of my hand. “Lightning’s a great horse, just not around dogs, it seems.” He pulled the mare closer. She snorted and sidestepped. “Want to pet her?”
I shook my head.
“If you don’t, she might associate you with her fear,” he said. I was pretty sure he’d made that up, on the spot.
“Molly had a bad experience with a horse when we were girls,” Hannah chimed in.
I took a deep breath, wondering why Hannah felt the need to be so forthright about my failing. It was something I tried to keep quiet.
“All the more reason to make up to one now,” he said. This time he grinned, his eyes dancing. Perhaps he was shy, but he also had a bit of spark to him. I liked that.
I stepped toward him and the horse, putting my hand on Lightning’s neck. The horse started to shy away, but Leon pulled on the bridle firmly, pulling her head down.
I stroked the palomino, feeling her muscles tighten under the weight of my hand, wanting to say, Nice horsey, but stopping myself from going that far. I didn’t think she liked me any more than I liked her.
“See, she’s not so bad,” Leon said.
I looked up into his blue eyes. He grinned again. My knees weakened. Why did he have to be from Montana?
But then he nodded toward Hannah and grinned at her. “I was introduced to your horse earlier. He’s a beauty.”
Hannah smiled back, and I’d braced myself for a conversation about horses when the screen door to the porch banged.
“Hannah!” her Mamm, Pauline, yelled. “Do you want to finish up supper or get Mammi?”
“Supper!” Hannah responded.
Pauline started down the back steps. “Oh, Molly! You’re here. Gut! The potatoes need to be mashed, the table set, and the roast carved. The girls are in the kitchen. Just tell them what to do.”
Tinker let out a cry and Pauline hurried back up the steps.
I grabbed Hannah’s arm and called out to Leon, “See you soon.” I guessed he was eating with us—it’s not like there was a kitchen out in the tack room.
“Sounds like I’d better get Lightning in the barn,” Leon said, “or I’ll be late.” He tipped his hat at Hannah and then to me, pulled Lightning around, and then somehow managed—did he leap?—to land himself on the horse’s back in one graceful motion. I watched until he reached the barn, my heart galloping along with him, until Hannah nudged me.
“Oh.” I giggled. “Was I staring?”
“I don’t know what at,” she said.
“You’re kidding, right?” I looked my friend in the eyes.
She nodded, a slight smile on her face.
“What do you mean? He’s tall, dark, and handsome. And those eyes—I’ve never seen anything like them.” I wasn’t going to admit he’d actually made me weak-kneed. A little breathless, I inhaled deeply.
“Ach,” Hannah said. “He’s all right, but nothing like the boys around here.”
Chapter
4
Pauline passed Tinker off to Hannah on her way out the back door, leaving me entirely in charge of getting dinner on the table, which I didn’t mind at all. I rallied Hannah’s sisters, asking them to set the table while I mashed the potatoes, and then to pour the water and fill the serving dishes while I carved the meat.
When Leon came in through the back door, the younger girls all grew shy.
“Owen’s in the living room,” I said to him because Hannah was too busy bouncing her crying brother on her hip to notice Leon. “Go visit with him.”
He strode across the kitchen, his boots clomping on the hardwood floor, but stopped at the hallway.
“Go on,” I said to him.
He smiled hesitantly and headed down the hall.
“Go tell your Mammi to hurry,” I told Deborah. “Tell her I can’t wait to see her.”
If Pauline and Gladys didn’t arrive soon, the food would begin to cool. Just as I put the platter of meat on the table, Gladys yoo-hooed me as she came through the back door. “Molly!” she called out. “What a nice surprise.”
Pauline and Deborah followed behind her.
“You’re just in time,” I said to the old woman. “If you hurry, you can sit by our guest.” For a moment I felt awkward that I’d said our, but no else seemed to notice. I stepped into the hall. “Come on, Owen and Leon. Time to eat.”
By the time supper began, I wasn’t the only one interested in Leon. Mammi Gladys, who was usually as cranky as could be, did sit by him and kept inching closer and closer. She smiled as she passed him the mashed potatoes and then said, “I know how hard you’ve been working today, running that horse back and forth in front of my little house.”
“I hope I didn’t disturb you, ma’am.”
She waved her hand. “Of course not.” If it had been Hannah running a horse her grandmother would have been more than disturbed. But it was nice to see her being so gracious with someone besides me.
I kept my eye on Leon as he passed little Maggie the roast, serving her first and then himself. Tinker squealed halfway through dinner, a loud, piercing scream that had me on the edge of my seat, but Leon grinned widely at the baby. The little guy laughed. Leon winked. The baby laughed again.
I wasn’t one of those girls who got all gaga over a baby, but I couldn’t help smiling as I watched. Leon seemed to be as gifted with children as with horses.
Maggie said something, but
her sisters were all talking over her.
“Girls, girls,” Pauline said. “Don’t all talk at once.”
Deborah and Sarah both started again.
Mammi Gladys exclaimed, “Pipe down,” just as four-year-old Maggie tried to say something too. Perhaps it had been out of fear, or maybe just surprise at her grandmother’s bark, but Maggie bumped her glass, spilling her milk across the table. As it flowed toward him, Leon righted the glass. I stood, grabbed a dish towel from the counter, and tossed it at him. He quickly mopped up what he could.
“Denki,” Pauline said as she came around to finish the job with the dishcloth.
Maggie began to cry, but Leon whispered something in her ear. Her chin quivered but then she broke out into a smile.
He seemed a gentle soul but certainly not a pushover, considering the way he handled the horse. And the fact that he was a little shy was actually endearing.
After dinner, Leon helped clear the table as Hannah and I started the dishes. “I thought you two would be off to a party tonight,” he said.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Ach, reports of Lancaster Youngie travel far and wide,” he answered. “As far as Montana, to be sure.”
“And what do those reports include?” I submerged a glass into the dishwater.
“Parties every Friday and Saturday night. Youngie coming from states away.” He paused.
“What else?”
“Ach.” He blushed. “I feel as if I’m gossiping.”
I smiled. “Some reports are exaggerated.” Some. I’d expected him to make a comment about the drinking that went on too.
“Want to go with us? There’s one tonight,” Hannah said.
I flinched at the thought. I’d much rather visit with Leon here, away from the throngs of other girls.
Leon put the platter on the counter. “Jah,” he said. “I would.”
Hannah gave me a look. I shifted my feet. If Leon wanted to go, the least I could do was be hospitable. I nodded to my friend and then turned to Leon.
“So you haven’t joined the church yet?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I will though,” he said, “when I go home.”
“Molly and I were going to take classes this spring, but—”
“We will soon. Maybe this fall?” I took a deep breath and turned toward Hannah.
She nodded, pointing to my apron. She wanted my phone, to call Timothy. I turned so she could retrieve it from my pocket herself.
As she left, I focused on the bubbles in the sink, suddenly aware of how weary I was of thinking about Mervin and speculating on how to save the farm. Going to a party might be a good idea after all. I’d pull Mervin off to the side and tell him Hannah still liked him, that I could never court him and hurt my friend.
“What do you see in those bubbles?” Leon asked, stepping closer.
I laughed. “Certainly not my future.” Not that I believed in anything like that. “Tell me about Montana,” I said to Leon as Hannah’s Dat came through the back door.
“Could you come on out?” he asked Leon. “I want to introduce you to someone.” Leon complied immediately.
As I continued washing the dishes, I looked out the window over the sink. An Englisch woman was walking between Owen and Leon toward the barn.
Hannah returned, slipped my phone back into my pocket, and nudged me over. “She boards a couple of horses here.”
“Oh,” I answered.
“He is pretty nice.” Hannah pulled some glasses from the rinse water and put them in the rack. She sighed. “But he’s not Mervin.”
I wanted to laugh but instead bit my tongue. I couldn’t imagine who, as much as I adored Mervin, would choose him over Leon. “What did Timothy say?” I asked.
“He’ll be here in half an hour.
“Let’s get these dishes done.” I began scrubbing a plate as Hannah’s Mamm came into the kitchen with Tinker on her hip. He squealed when he saw Hannah.
“Take him for a minute,” Pauline said. Hannah reached for her brother, and he fell into her arms.
Hannah’s grandmother tottered into the kitchen next. “How long is that young man staying?”
“I don’t know,” Pauline answered, taking her mother’s arm.
Gladys shuffled toward the door, leaning against Pauline. “Hannah should court him, don’t you think?”
“Heavens, no,” Pauline answered, shooting her daughter a grin. “There’s quite a selection around here. We wouldn’t want her to end up in Montana.”
Hannah agreed and then kissed her brother on the forehead. He squealed again. “You should court Leon,” Hannah said to me.
I exhaled, blowing my breath up to my forehead. The heat from the dishwater was cooking my face.
“I’m serious. It’s been ages since you’ve been out with anyone. Since Phillip, right?”
I blew out my breath a second time.
“We’re not getting any younger,” Hannah said. “And if I’m going to get married soon, I want you to too.”
Through the window I watched Pauline and Gladys shuffle along, pretending to be intent on what I was seeing so I wouldn’t have to answer Hannah. Leon had nothing to offer me except wobbly knees and a racing heart. Things I’d honestly never experienced before. Things I found both exhilarating and frightening.
But there was no way I’d ever move to Montana. If I left, we’d lose the farm for sure.
As dusk fell, Hannah and I sat on her porch until Timothy’s bright yellow Bronco hummed up the driveway.
“Where is he?” I asked, swinging my cape over my shoulders against the growing chill.
“Timothy?” Hannah teased.
I smiled but didn’t respond. There was no need. As we headed down the front steps, Leon came around the driveway from the barn. He wore a regular straw hat and normal shoes. He’d also changed into trousers and a clean shirt.
Just the sight of him lifted my spirits, putting a bounce in my step as I followed Hannah to Timothy’s vehicle.
Hannah climbed into the front seat and I opened the back door behind her. Leon strode over to the driver’s side, introduced himself to Timothy, and then climbed into the back too.
I fastened my seat belt as Timothy took off, and Leon followed my example, smiling at me as he clicked it into place. There was a full seat between the two of us, but it felt as if we were nearly touching.
Timothy listed the people he expected to be at the party.
When he’d finished, Hannah added, “Mervin and Martin are going.”
Timothy shook his head. “I called Martin—he said they’re not. Something about Mervin being too tired.”
Immediately Hannah’s mood changed, and she slumped against her seat.
I reached forward and patted her shoulder. “Maybe they’ll change their minds.” Two years ago, Timothy had been out to get Mervin and Martin, but thankfully they’d worked it all out. Now it wasn’t as if they were the best of friends, but they all got along.
Many in our group had joined the church in the last year or two. More and more of the partygoers were younger. We were definitely aging out of our Rumschpringe.
“When are you going to join the church?” I asked Timothy.
“Maybe never. Samuel . . .” He glanced in his rearview mirror at Leon. “That’s my older brother. We’ve been talking about going down to Florida. Or maybe somewhere else. It’d be nice to see another part of the world.” Timothy glanced in the mirror again at Leon. “Hannah said you’re from Montana. Did you hire a driver to get out here?”
“No.” Leon leaned forward. “I took the train. It’s a good way to see the country.”
Timothy asked Leon about Chicago.
“Jah, it’s a big place,” Leon said. “I imagine there’s lots of opportunity—and lots of other stuff too.”
That sounded like a pretty diplomatic answer to me.
“I can’t imagine ever living in a city.” Leon nodded out the window into the coming darkness
. “Lancaster County is as urban a place as I ever want to live.”
Timothy laughed. “What’s it like in Montana?”
“Wide open spaces. Mountains. Endless sky. Lots of snow in the winter. Rivers to fish in the summer.”
“But not many people?” Timothy asked.
“Yep,” Leon said. “We definitely have more cattle than people.”
That was hard for me to imagine. In Lancaster County we had lots of dairy cows, true, but I was certain we had more people.
“How many Plain folks in Montana?” Timothy asked as he turned off toward the trailer he and Samuel shared.
“Oh, I’d say a few hundred.”
Timothy chuckled. “And it’s a big state, huh?”
“Yep,” Leon said again.
We had more than fifty thousand Plain folks in Lancaster County, let alone in the rest of Pennsylvania.
Timothy slowed the car on the rutted road. “What are some of the biggest differences between here and there?”
“Our school is made of logs, and so is our house and barn.”
Timothy glanced over his shoulder as if Leon was kidding him. “Little cabins?” he asked, shifting his attention back to the road.
Leon shook his head. “Our house is big enough. So is our barn. It’s not nearly as big as Hannah’s family’s . . . but it’s a good size.” I had the feeling Leon was being modest.
Ahead the trailer windows shone with electric lights, and several of the cars parked around it had their headlights on. “What else is different?” Timothy asked.
“We ride horses a lot.”
I exhaled. Montana was definitely out as a possibility for me.
“To herd cattle, right?” Timothy asked.
“Yep, for that. But we’d ride our horses to go to school too.”
“Even the little ones?” I asked.
“Yep. We’re put in the saddle almost before we can walk. It’s second nature. My youngest sister often rode in front of me, but only because she wanted to.”
“How many sisters do you have?”
“Six,” he answered.
“Ach, you poor thing.” Timothy snorted. “I only have one, and she was nearly the end of me.”
I shook my head. Addie was the sweetest sister anyone could have. Timothy had been the problem. I turned to Leon. “Where are you in the birth order?”