by Beth Wiseman
He peered to his left at Isaac Lapp’s flaring nostrils, knowing that his rival for Irma Rose’s affections wanted to win as badly as he did. Jonas knew that pride was a sin, as Isaac surely did, but when it came to Irma Rose, Jonas figured Isaac’s thoughts were as jumbled as his own. Jonas had been waiting to court Irma Rose for three years, since right after his father died. He recalled the way she lit his soul at a time when his grief threatened to overtake him. And now that she was sixteen, her parents were allowing her a few freedoms. Buggy races were looked down on by the elders in the community, but the young members of the district still gathered at the far end of the road most Saturdays to see who had the fastest horse and buggy.
“That ol’ horse of yours ain’t gonna be able to keep up with Lightning.” Isaac smirked from his topless buggy, the type used for courting. Jonas hoped he never had to see Irma Rose riding alongside Isaac.
“Ya, well . . . we’ll see about that.” Jonas kept a steady hand on the reins while he and Isaac waited for the spectators to start loading into their buggies. They would wait about ten minutes, until everyone reached the finish line down by the old barn at the far end of the King property. Then Amos would blow the whistle to start the race.
Jonas sat taller, raised his chin, and tried to ignore that his own horse chose this moment to relieve himself. Bud was a fine animal. And fast. But Bud pooped more than any other horse around, and always at the wrong time, as if he was showing off. Or just trying to irritate Jonas.
Luckily the whistle blew before Isaac had time to make a joke, and Jonas slapped the reins. “Ya!” Within seconds, he was several yards ahead of Isaac, squinting as the late-afternoon sun almost blinded him. But he kept pushing Bud, anxious to see Irma Rose standing at the finish line, hopefully cheering him on.
Competition was against the Ordnung and everyone knew it, but there was a certain thrill about being victorious, even though deep down, Jonas knew God wouldn’t approve. As he crossed the finish line two buggy lengths ahead of Isaac, God wasn’t the one on his mind. As he pulled back on the reins, he looked to his right, searching the crowd standing in the grass on the side of the road.
Bud was completely stopped—and relieving himself again—when Jonas finally located Irma Rose. Even though the women in his district all dressed similarly, Irma Rose was easy to spot. She was tinier than most of the women, with dainty features. Loose tendrils of golden hair framed her face from beneath her kapp, and if a man was lucky enough to attract her gaze, he could feel her green eyes searching his soul. Even though she was petite and flowerlike, she had the perfect balance of femininity and strength. But she wasn’t even looking toward the road. Instead of watching Jonas whup Isaac in the race, she was standing way off to the side of the crowd, smiling and seeming to enjoy the company of someone who threatened Jonas’s potential courtship with Irma Rose way more than Isaac or anyone else. Jake Ebersol.
Irma Rose hung on Jake’s every word. He was so wise and knew more about Scripture and the teachings of the Ordnung than anyone she knew. He was only nineteen, but he had the mind of someone much older. When Jake Ebersol spoke, people listened. And it didn’t hurt that he was quite handsome. His big brown eyes peeked from beneath sandy-blond bangs cropped high on his forehead, and his face was bronzed from his work outdoors. Jake was tall and muscular, his suspenders tightly fitted atop his blue shirt. He was everything an Amish girl could want.
“I’d love to go with you to the singing next Sunday.” Irma Rose blinked her eyes a few times, unable to control her reaction to his invitation as a smile spread across her face. She’d been waiting for Jake to ask her to a singing since she’d turned sixteen last month. She loved when someone hosted a singing for the young people in her district, a time for fellowship, prayer, and singing. And best of all, it was a time to socialize without adults hovering nearby.
“Gut, gut.” He pushed back the brim of his straw hat, smiling, then he brushed a clump of dried dirt from his britches. Several of the men who were standing too close to the race had been splattered with mud.
Irma Rose snuck a peek at Isaac, who was standing a few yards away. He’d been staring at her most of the day. She’d known for a long time that he was interested in courting her, and he was nice enough . . . but in her mind, there was only Jake. She offered Isaac a quick wave before she turned her attention back to Jake. A smile lit his face again, and she was basking in the moment when Jonas Miller walked up.
“I won. Ol’ Bud came through for me.” He smiled as he looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders, which were not doing a very good job holding up his britches.
Irma Rose hoped Jake would make pleasantries with Jonas so she didn’t have to. Jonas was wild and reckless, and Irma Rose could often smell the lingering scent of cigars when she was around him. He was the same age as Jake, and while Jonas was handsome in his own way, he was certainly not Irma Rose’s type.
“It was a gut race,” Jake said, smiling. “Congratulations on the win.”
Irma Rose was thinking about sitting next to Jake in his buggy on Sunday and wondering if he’d kiss her at the end of the night. She became aware that Jonas was speaking to her.
“Did you ask me something?” She blinked her eyes a few times, then brought her hand to her forehead to block the sun.
His firm mouth curled as if always on the edge of laughter, and Irma Rose found it unsettling. As his dark eyes raked boldly over her, she felt her cheeks reddening, the way they always did around him. He caused a tingling in the pit of her stomach that made her uncomfortable. Jonas was tall, but unlike Jake, he was thin, like he hadn’t yet grown into his height. Jonas had the biggest feet she’d ever seen, and she’d heard that Mr. Tucker at The Shoe Barn had to order his black leather loafers from another state. Jonas took a step closer to her, and she noticed the stubble on his jawline. It seemed that no matter what time of day or night, he was never quite clean-shaven. Maybe because his hair was as black as a starless sky.
“I asked what you thought about the race.” Jonas’s smile grew and so did the funny feeling in Irma Rose’s stomach.
She lifted her chin. “I don’t think such competition is necessary.” She shrugged and smiled back at him. “It’s just silly.” She turned to Jake, wishing he’d reach for her hand—something to let Jonas know that Jake would be courting her. Or at the least, taking her to the singing next Sunday.
“I’ll be back,” Jake said as he pointed to his right. “Mei sister is yelling for me.” He extended his hand to Jonas. “Congratulations again. Bud is a fine animal.”
Irma Rose glanced around, looking for a way to escape being caught in a conversation alone with Jonas, but everyone seemed involved in their own conversations. She twisted the tie on her prayer covering, hoping Jake would return soon. And that Jonas would mosey along.
“I was wondering . . .” Jonas grinned as a river of sweat flowed down both sides of his face. “. . . if you’d like to go with me to the singing on Sunday?”
Irma Rose pulled a hand-stitched handkerchief from the pocket of her apron and dabbed at the perspiration beading on her forehead. She cleared her throat, her heart hammering against her chest. She hated that he had this effect on her. “Nee, I can’t,” she finally said, fighting the knot rising in her throat. “I’m going to the singing with Jake.”
Jonas took another step closer, his tall build casting a protective shadow over her, shielding her from the setting sun behind him. July had never felt so hot. “I think you should go with me instead.”
Irma Rose stepped back as she tried to get control of her uneven breathing. “I just told you . . . I’m already going with someone else.” She turned away to find Jake.
She could feel Jonas’s eyes on her as she rushed away. Blotting her forehead with her hankie again, she
picked up the pace.
Jonas took a step to go after her, but stopped himself. He rubbed the stubble on his chin and took a deep breath, knowing he had to make Irma Rose see that they were meant for each other. Jake Ebersol was a likable fellow, a pillar in the community, and everyone thought he’d follow in a long line of footsteps and become a deacon or bishop someday, like his father and grandfathers. But Jake wasn’t the right guy for Irma Rose. Jonas had watched her for three years. She had a fire for adventure. He’d watched her jump from the highest peak into Pequea Creek, and she could run faster than any girl he knew. She could swing a baseball bat and knock a volleyball over the net with ease, and her laughter stole his breath.
Irma Rose was beautiful. Great with the kinner in the community. And she was going to be the mother of his children.
She just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter Two
IRMA ROSE SAT WITH HER GIRLFRIENDS—HANNAH AND Mary—at the soda shop, as they did every Tuesday after they went to the market. They all shared a strawberry malt at the counter while watching the television—knowing their parents wouldn’t approve.
Hannah’s father would be particularly upset, whether it was their rumschpringe or not. He’d ground her for sure if he knew. Irma Rose was an only child, and her parents wouldn’t be happy, but they weren’t as strict as Hannah’s. Most likely, Irma Rose would just get a good talking-to. Unless, of course, they caught her watching something inappropriate—like Elvis Presley or Jerry Lee Lewis. Then there would be trouble. As for Mary, she always said her parents had more children than they could keep up with—fourteen—so she figured her chances of getting caught were slim.
Today, the sound on the television was turned down so low they could barely hear it, and the daytime soap opera As the World Turns was on, which didn’t interest the girls much.
“I hope it doesn’t rain on the way home.” Mary leaned forward and slurped from one of the three straws. “We should have brought one of the covered buggies.”
Irma Rose glanced out the plate glass window facing Lincoln Highway and toward the dark clouds in the west. They’d ridden into the town of Paradise together in Hannah’s topless buggy. She looked down at the floor beside them where their few grocery bags were. “Ach, I’ve got flour in my bag. That won’t do well in the rain.”
“We’d better go.” Hannah reached into her pocket for some coins. It was her turn to pay for the malt. She was waiting for change when the bell above the door rang, drawing their attention to a tall Amish man walking in.
Mary gasped, then covered her mouth with one hand. “It’s Jonas Miller,” she whispered.
Irma Rose sat up straighter and quickly looked away. Mary fancied Jonas—although Irma Rose couldn’t understand why. Mary said he was rough around the edges, but that all he needed was a gut fraa to tend to him. Irma Rose was pretty sure he needed more than that. She cut her eyes in his direction. For starters, he needed a haircut and, as usual, a shave. And someone in his house needed to mend the missing button on his blue shirt. Irma Rose could already smell the stale stench of cigar, yet a brief shiver rippled through her.
“Wie bischt, ladies?” He stopped right in front of Irma Rose. “Have you reconsidered going with me to the singing next Sunday?”
Irma Rose glanced at Mary, whose expression immediately fell, and she wanted to smack Jonas for hurting her friend like that. Didn’t he suspect how Mary felt about him? “I already told you . . .” She took a deep breath as the pit of her stomach churned. “I’m going with Jake.”
Jonas’s edgy grin crept up one side of his face. “I was just making sure you hadn’t changed your mind.”
“Nee. I have not.” She forced a thin-lipped smile. “Maybe Mary would like to go with you though.”
Mary hung her head as her face reddened, but she quickly lit up when Jonas said, “Sure. Mary, do you want to go with me on Sunday?”
Irma Rose felt her pulse beating in her throat as she watched Mary nod. Mary was a quiet girl, pretty with wavy brown hair and rosy cheeks. She had big blue eyes and long lashes that she was batting at Jonas.
“We have to go.” Irma Rose stood up from the stool, leaned down, and began gathering her share of the bags. “Danki, Mr. Weaver,” she said to the soda shop owner, who waved and nodded.
“Here comes the rain.” Hannah pointed at the window that ran the length of the soda shop. “Your flour isn’t going to make the trip home in my topless buggy.” She turned to Jonas. “Since you brought a covered buggy, can you cart Irma Rose to her haus so her flour doesn’t ruin?” She nodded toward the window, and Irma Rose looked in that direction. Jonas’s buggy was parked in front of the store, Bud tethered to the hitching post. Jonas’s buggy was easy to spot. It was the only one with bullet holes in it. There were all kinds of stories floating around about what happened, but Jonas would never confirm or deny any of them.
Irma Rose clutched her bags to her chest. “Nee. It will be fine.”
Mary spoke up too. “Hannah’s right. You should let Jonas carry you home.”
Looking down at the five-pound bag of flour, Irma Rose considered her options. Riding two miles in the buggy alone with Jonas, or showing up at home with wet flour and having to endure a lecture about reading the weather forecast in the newspaper before heading to town. “Fine,” she said stiffly as she lifted her eyes to his.
Jonas tipped the brim of his straw hat toward Mary. “And I’ll see you on Sunday.”
Irma Rose pursed her lips and said good-bye to Hannah and Mary. Jonas picked up the bag of flour, then Irma Rose followed him to his buggy carrying a brown paper bag of groceries. They placed the items in the backseat, then Jonas offered his hand to help her into the buggy. Ignoring the gesture, she heaved herself onto the bench seat and folded her hands in her lap.
Jonas had barely closed the door on his side when the rain started in earnest. He clicked his tongue and set the horse in motion, and Irma Rose prayed silently that it would only be rain and not a storm. Not only was she frightened of lightning and thunder but sometimes the horses got spooked, and they were going to have to cross Lincoln Highway to get home.
She was particularly worried about Hannah and Mary, and she could see her friends getting soaked in the topless buggy. “Can you follow Hannah and Mary to Mary’s haus before you take me home?”
Jonas began crossing Lincoln Highway behind Hannah. “Ya. Planned on it.” He turned to her and grinned. “Someone forgot to check the weather.”
She ignored him for a few moments, then turned to face him. “What were you doing in the soda shop, anyway?”
He didn’t answer at first, concentrating on getting across the highway safely. Once Bud was trotting behind Hannah’s buggy and away from the traffic, he turned to her. “I was looking for you.”
“I don’t know why,” she said dryly as she rolled her eyes, aware of how close they were in the small buggy.
Jonas smiled but didn’t say anything. Either he was the happiest man on the planet, or he just liked to make her uncomfortable.
They were quiet as both buggies made their way down Black Horse Road in the pouring rain. Irma Rose needed a distraction, something to keep her from focusing on the flashes of lightning up ahead.
“That was nice of you to ask Mary to the singing.” Irma Rose kept her eyes straight ahead, knowing she was fishing for information. Would Jonas say that he’d had to settle for his second choice? And why does that matter?
“Mary is a sweet maedel.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, and his jaw tensed as he strained to see through the windshield. The wipers were working hard, but it was still difficult to see.
Irma Rose jumped and covered her eyes when she saw a rod of lightning not too
far ahead. One, one thousand . . . two, one thousand, then BOOM! She pressed her hands against her ears and fought the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
“That was close,” Jonas said in a whisper, then she felt a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”
She pulled her hands from her ears, nodded, and bit her trembling lip.
“Don’t worry, Irma Rose. I’ll get you home safely.”
His voice was so strong and determined that she believed him. She was relieved when she saw Hannah and Mary turn into Mary’s driveway. She knew Hannah would wait to leave until the storm was over.
Another bright burst of light shone ahead of them, and she wondered if maybe they should ride out the storm at Mary’s house, too, but by the time she thought to suggest it, Jonas had Bud in a good trot and was passing Mary’s house. Irma Rose’s heart was pounding in her chest, and with one loud, thunderous boom after another, she fought the urge to cry.
Then Jonas shouted, “Bud!” He pulled back on the reins so hard the horse’s front feet came off the ground; the horse waved his hooves in the air until Jonas stopped pulling on the reins and they were at a complete stop.
“That was close!” Jonas let out a long breath and stared at the tree lying across the road in front of them.
“Should we go back the other way?” Irma Rose had both hands on the dash as she peered through the rain. Then she turned around and, in the distance, could see water starting to flow across the road in front of Mary’s house, an area that flooded easily.
Jonas slammed a hand against the dash of the buggy, causing Irma Rose to jump.
“I should have left you at Mary’s,” he said, shaking his head.
“You couldn’t have known that a tree would fall in front of us.” She paused, turning to look at him. His forehead was creased, but she covered her ears when another bolt of lightning flashed up ahead with a quick, thunderous follow-up. Jonas put an arm around her and pulled her close, and Irma Rose buried her face in his chest.