The Amish Spinster's Courtship

by Emma Miller

  Rosemary released Lovage’s chin and picked up the dropped seam ripper. “It makes you worthier because you have respect for yourself. Because you refuse to be second best to a man.”

  Lovey looked down at her lap, nursing her stinging finger. “Can we please not talk about Ishmael?”

  “What did I do?” Rosemary exclaimed, setting down the things in her hands. “Where did I go wrong, Lovey, that you never think you’re good enough? That you think you don’t deserve a kind, loving husband, the same as the rest of us?”

  Lovage shook her head, feeling guilty that her mother felt that her struggles with self-esteem had anything to do with the way she had raised her. “You did nothing wrong,” she said softly, trying to get control of her emotions. She was on the verge of tears and she didn’t even know why.

  That wasn’t true. She did know why she was distressed and this wasn’t about Ishmael; it was about Marshall. Maybe she was upset because she’d never expected to feel this way about a man and it scared her. It scared her because she was having a hard time believing Marshall liked her, wanted to be with her, even though he’d come right out and said it. Even though he’d proposed marriage their very first date. At the thought of it, she almost giggled out loud. And then suddenly she felt her heart buoyed. Two men had asked her to marry them in the last year. How many women her age could say that?

  “Lovage, look at me,” her mother pressed.

  Lovage slowly lifted her gaze until she met her mother’s.

  Rosemary reached out and gently tugged on one of Lovage’s prayer kapp strings, which fell just below her chin. “You are worthy of a good husband, of love. And I truly believe that God has a man in mind for you. So don’t be foolish. Don’t push Marshall away. Because what if he’s the one God means for you to marry? I think God leads us to the answers to our prayers, but He doesn’t force us to accept His gifts. We all have the free will to accept love or not.”

  Rosemary seemed lost in her thoughts for a moment and then she went on. “I’ve not said this to anyone else, but you know, when Benjamin asked me to be his wife, I argued with him. I argued with myself. I argued with God. Benjamin was my beloved Ethan’s best friend. It seemed wrong to marry him. To love him,” she said softly. “But that was God’s intention. It took a lot of praying and Benjamin’s kindness and patience for me to come to accept that.”

  Lovage stared at the foot of the sewing machine. “But what if God means for me to be single? To stay here and care for you. With the new baby coming—”

  “God means for my husband to care for me,” Rosemary interrupted, now sounding exasperated. “You need to accept Benjamin as my husband.”

  Lovage looked up, surprised by her mother’s words. “Of course I accept him as your husband. I love Benjamin. What would make you think I don’t? Because never once did I disagree with your choice, Mam,” she said passionately. “I do believe God intended you to be together.”

  Rosemary crossed her arms over her round belly. “I’d like to think that’s true.”

  “It is true.” Lovage rose. “I love Benjamin,” she said firmly. “And I love him more because he loves you.”

  “Then you have to accept that this child and I—” she rubbed her swollen abdomen “—are Benjamin’s responsibilities. As my husband and the babe’s father.” Rosemary sighed. “Ach, daughter.” She put her arms out to Lovage. “I know as my firstborn you feel a responsibility to me, but your responsibility is to yourself. You—”

  A knock on the door frame of the sewing room made them both look up. It was Jesse. “Got a customer at the shop, Lovey,” he said. “Wants to see you.”

  Lovage frowned. “Isn’t Ginger in the shop? And Jacob and Joshua? I’m not supposed to be working today.”

  “Said he won’t see anyone but you.” Jesse pressed his lips together. “Sent me to fetch you.”

  “I’m sewing for Mam. Is there a problem with something he had repaired?”

  Jesse had a strange look on his face. “Said he’d only see you,” he repeated.

  Lovage glanced at her mother.

  “Go,” Rosemary said with a wave. “And put a Band-Aid on that finger before you come back.” She picked up a section of the pink dress on the table and slipped onto the stool at the sewing machine. “I promised to get that dress stitched for Tara before the singing tomorrow night, but she’ll have a fit if you bleed on it.”

  Annoyed to be pulled away from the conversation with her mother, but also curious as to what customer wanted to see her, Lovage grabbed a black umbrella at the back door and followed Jesse to the harness shop. The moment she walked into the store, she turned around and looked down at Jesse. It was Marshall Byler. And he was talking to Ginger. Who was giggling and leaning across the counter toward him.

  “Marshall wanted me?” she whispered harshly to her brother. Without realizing she was doing it, she reached up to make sure her kapp was on properly, then down to smooth her dress. “Why didn’t you say it was him?”

  Jesse sheepishly held up a dollar bill.

  Glancing over her shoulder at her little brother, Lovage strode toward the customer counter where Marshall waited. “You should probably go before you’re in trouble,” she told Jesse.

  He took off.

  When she reached the counter, Lovage looked at her little sister. “I didn’t know you were working out front. You could have saved me the trouble of walking all the way from the house.”

  Ginger took a step back. “I should get back to work,” she told Marshall.

  He nodded, offering a quick smile. “Good to see you.”

  Lovage waited until her sister went through the door into the workroom before she turned back to Marshall. “Ginger couldn’t have helped you?”

  “Didn’t want Ginger,” he said, his tone playful. “I wanted you.”

  A warmth washed over as she thought about what her mother had said to her. He came to see you, not Ginger. “You sent my little brother to get me without telling me it was you?”

  “Not his fault,” Marshall said to her. “If you want to be angry with someone, be angry with me.”

  She exhaled, trying not to smile. “I’m not angry with him. When I was his age, I’d have done the same for a dollar.”

  He grinned.

  “Still, you could have just sent him for me, saying you wanted me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, glad she’d changed her dress midmorning after spilling maple syrup on herself. “It wouldn’t have cost you your hard-earned money.”

  “I was afraid you might not come.” He rapped his knuckles on the counter and then pressed both palms to the smooth surface and leaned forward. “Would you have come out if you’d known it was me, Lovey?”

  He’d shaved and had on a lavender short-sleeved shirt that looked as if his grandmother had pressed it for him. And he was wearing his good straw hat, not the one with the piece out of the brim that he’d worn the first time they met.

  She glanced at the finger she’d injured, wanting to make sure she wasn’t bleeding on her dress. “Maybe,” she confessed. “Maybe not.” She looked up at him. “What do you need? I’m busy. My mother needs my help.”

  “I like that blue dress on you,” he said, holding her gaze. “You look pretty in blue, even though your eyes are green. A nice green. Not muddy like some.”

  Against her will, Lovage felt her cheeks flush. Marshall was flirting with her. Again. Maybe he really did like her. “I have things to do.” She fought a smile. “You asked to speak to me, and here I am.”

  He sighed and stood to his full height again. “I came to see if my britchen strap was ready.”

  “It’s not.”

  He laughed, gesturing with one hand in the direction of the workshop. “You didn’t even check yet.”

  “I don’t have to. I told you when it would be done.Five business days.” She moved a stapl
er on the counter from one side of the cash register to the other. “Probably be next week.”

  He grinned again, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “I knew it wouldn’t be ready.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “Then why did you come?”

  He shrugged. “Not all that busy at home today, not with the rain. I’m working on building a tack room in our barn. I’ll show it to you when you come for supper.”

  “I didn’t know I was coming to supper.”

  “Sure you are. For Sam’s birthday, next weekend. Your whole family is coming.” He leaned on the counter again. “Anyway, the strap was just an excuse to see you. I know we’re going for ice cream tomorrow, but I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  His words surprised her. “Wait, we’re still going for ice cream?”

  “Of course,” he said, seemingly genuinely taken aback. “Well, supper and ice cream. My grandmother likes fancy fast-food chicken.” He frowned. “Why did you think we weren’t going?”

  Lovage pressed her lips together. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t think they were going because she knew he couldn’t really be interested in her. Not someone like her who took her responsibilities to her family seriously, someone who wasn’t fun.

  Marshall held her gaze again; he had the bluest eyes, like the color of the sky on a hot summer day. A long moment passed before he tapped the countertop with his knuckles. “Also, church is at Barnabas Gruber’s on Sunday. I’d like to drive you home after.”

  “Drive me?” She gave a little laugh. “The Grubers live on the road behind me. It’s plenty close enough to walk.”

  He shrugged. “Good idea. I’ll walk you home.” He gave the stapler she’d moved a little push with his finger. “I’ll pick you up about five on Thursday? I hired a van. Route 13 is too busy to take Toby out on. Any horse, really. Grossmammi and Sam are coming. You should bring Jesse.”

  “You really want me to have supper and ice cream with you?” she asked, still feeling like she should be suspicious. After all, who would choose her over Ginger? “There’s a singing at the Fishers’, you know. Because Asa King had to cancel hers last Friday night.”

  “Ya, I know there’s a singing. Ginger just told me all about it.” He flashed her another handsome smile. “But Grossmammi is looking forward to her chicken nuggets. So, five o’clock on Thursday?”

  Lovage knew the smart thing was to end this flirtation, this...whatever it was, right now. She knew a man like Marshall couldn’t really be interested romantically in her. Even if he did, how long would that last once he realized how dull she was? And then she would be crushed. But she liked him so much and he was so cute and he seemed sincere.

  “Okay if Jesse brings his friend Adam, too?” she said in a rush of words. “Adam Raber from over at the next crossroad. I’ll pay for us myself, of course,” she added.

  “It’s definitely okay if Jesse brings a friend, and you will do no such thing. My treat.” He hesitated and then said softly, “See you tomorrow, Lovey.”

  “It’s Lovage,” she called after him as he walked away.

  “I know,” he called back.

  And then he laughed and she felt warm to the very tips of her toes inside her black canvas sneakers.

  Chapter Six

  After the final church service of the day, Marshall stood in the Grubers’ barnyard with a group of single men, discussing the weather and the state of their wheat and soybean crops. As he listened to the conversation, he scanned the backyard for Lovey. They’d barely spoken a dozen words all day, but that was just because during services, the men sat separately from the women. Then when it had been time for dinner at the long tables set up under the trees, Lovey had been busy helping to serve the meal. Marshall had wanted to wait to eat until the second sitting, when most of the women, including Lovey, would eat, but he’d gotten roped into a conversation with their new preacher and had ended up sitting with a group of men at the first sitting. The whole meal, Marshall had kept his eye on Lovey, and though they’d made eye contact several times and she’d smiled at him, she’d not come to his table, not even to see if he needed more water or iced tea.

  They’d had a good week, he and Lovey. After a successful trip out for dinner with his grandmother, Sam, Jesse and his friend, he’d managed to see her again on Friday. He’d gone late in the day, just before supper, under the guise of checking on his britchen strap. It wasn’t ready yet, of course, but she’d ended up standing in the barnyard talking to him until her stepfather had closed up shop and the dinner bell rang. Lovey was still definitely a little shy with him, but he could see her warming up. And the more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her.

  “What do you say?” Joshua, one of Lovey’s stepbrothers, asked, poking Marshall in the ribs. “You have time for a little project?”

  Marshall glanced at Josh, feeling guilty that he hadn’t been paying attention. Last he’d heard, they were still talking about the rising cost of seeds and whether or not GMO seeds were a necessary evil of the modern world they often struggled to remain apart from. “Sorry?” he said.

  “The greenhouse. Will was telling you about it at dinner. We’ve a mind to build Rosemary a greenhouse. Will’s already drawn up the plans. We just need a couple of extra hands. We’re thinking we can squeeze a few hours in here and there when we’re not busy.”

  Marshall’s gaze strayed to the house again as he plucked at his suspenders. Women were coming and going, with children trailing behind them. Everyone was putting away the last of the dishes and loading the benches on the church wagon, which moved from house to house, depending on who was hosting. “Ya, sure. I’m in. I can spare a few hours here and there.” He glanced in the direction of the backyard again, hoping Lovey hadn’t already left. He thought he’d been clear that he wanted to walk her home.

  Will, Lovey’s stepbrother who he was good friends with, laughed and took off his black, wide-brimmed Sunday hat to wipe his forehead with a handkerchief. “If you’re looking for my sister, she was in the kitchen last I saw. Your grandmother was questioning her pretty hard.”

  “Which one?” Jeb Fisher, Josh and Jacob’s friend, joked. “That Ginger has a mighty cute smile.” He slipped his thumbs behind his suspenders. “I’ve a mind to ask her to let me take her home, next time my parents have a singing.”

  Jacob gave Josh a playful push. “Aw, you been saying that for weeks. Just can’t get up the nerve, can you?”

  The other fellows joined in on the laughter and Josh looked over at Marshall again. “We’re talking about our oldest sister, Lovey. Been seeing a lot of you around our place these last two weeks.”

  Marshall wasn’t surprised his grandmother took the opportunity to talk with Lovey when she had her alone. He wasn’t worried, though, because he had no doubt his girl could hold her own with Grossmammi. He looked to Josh. “You asking me if I’m sweet on your sister? Because I’ll tell you the truth, I’m sweet on her, all right.” He ground one boot into the loose gravel in the driveway. He’d polished them that morning, giving them a good shine because it was important that a man went to church looking neat and pressed.

  Caleb Gruber, whose father had hosted church, slapped his hand on his leg. “Sounds like you’ve got it bad, Marshall. You best watch out, otherwise you’re going to find yourself a married man.”

  The young men all laughed again.

  “You’re one to talk,” Marshall teased, not in the least bit embarrassed. “It was your banns I heard read this morning. You and Mary Lewis marrying in the fall, according to the bishop.” Mary, a girl from Kentucky with a sweet disposition, was living in Rose Valley with her cousins. Word was that her parents had sent her to Delaware to find a husband, and found one she had. She was a good match for Caleb, Marshall thought.

  Caleb turned bright red and thrust his hands into his pants pockets, looking down.

  Ma
rshall grinned. “If you’re asking my intention, Josh,” he said, directing his gaze to Lovey’s brother, “it’s to marry Lovey, if she’ll have me. This fall, same as Caleb.”

  “Marshall Byler!”

  Marshall glanced up to see Lovey walking his way. From the look on her face beneath her big black Sunday bonnet, he could guess she’d heard what he’d said.

  “If you’re walking with me,” she said, striding past him, her head held high, “you’d better come along.”

  Several of the guys snickered, but Marshall wasn’t in the least bit self-conscious or annoyed. “Guess I’ll see you fellows later.” As he walked away, he called back, “Let me know when you want to start work, Josh. I’ll be there.”

  Marshall and Lovey fell into step, side by side, walking across the barnyard toward the entrance to an old lane that led across the Grubers’ back property, to the road he and Lovey both lived on, Persimmon Road. It was probably only a fifteen-minute walk from the Gruber house to Benjamin’s place, but Marshall figured if he walked slowly, he could stretch it out to twenty minutes of private time with her. Once there, he figured if he stalled, maybe helped Benjamin feed up, he might even get an invitation to supper. Rosemary hadn’t invited him to eat with them yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. She definitely liked him, and even though she hadn’t come out and said so, he thought she liked Lovey with him.

  “You shouldn’t say those things,” Lovey told him when they were out of hearing of the men he’d been chatting with.

  He glanced at her, but couldn’t see her face for the shadow cast by the black bonnet. “What’s that?”

  She turned her head so he could get a better look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, but he didn’t think it was from the July heat. “You know very well what I’m talking about.”

  He could tell she was trying to sound annoyed with him, but he could also tell she wasn’t really all that upset. Maybe she was even flattered that he would make such a public declaration.

  “That you and I are to marry,” she went on. “Shame on you. I’ve agreed to no such thing.”