by Sarah Price
Eleanor nodded her head but said nothing.
“Mayhaps sooner?”
She knew that traveling so far would mean he’d have to hire a driver and leave the farm for at least two or more hours at a crucial time during the late weeks of summer. Without Eleanor or her sisters to assist John with hay cutting and baling as well as the regular chores, Edwin’s help would be even more important. Besides, at some point in time, Edwin would be needed back on his own family farm, and that was even farther away from Quarryville.
Eleanor had appreciated his offer as well as his help with packing up their few household goods that were taken to the new cottage in Quarryville. Only now, as Eleanor looked around at the pitifully few boxes that were piled by the front door, she realized that Edwin had spent much more time than was necessary when helping them. Seven boxes, two benches, one rocking chair, and a kitchen table that needed to be put together. That was the remainder of what had been their lives on the Manheim farm.
“Knock, knock!”
Eleanor started at the strange voice and immediately looked to the door. Her mother was already dusting off her apron as she walked to greet the couple that stood there, watching the three women with curious smiles on their faces.
“Cousin Jacob,” Maem said, extending her hand to shake his.
He was a rotund man, his suspenders stretched to the max over his large, protruding stomach. His graying beard appeared wiry and unkempt, the bottom of it hiding the first two buttons on his shirt. But the smile on his face and sparkle in his eyes lessened the severity of his image. “Making yourself at home already, then?” he remarked lightly as he glanced around the room. “And from the looks of it, having quite the task ahead of you!” At this he laughed, and the portly woman beside him did too. “Have you met my mother-in-law?” He motioned to Eleanor and Mary Ann, waving them over to join them. “Widow Jennings is what we all call her.”
The large-boned woman with a cherubic face laughed and swatted playfully at his arm. “Ach, Jacob! I detest that name!” But she offered no other to take its place.
Eleanor shook Widow Jennings’s hand and glanced over at Mary Ann to do the same. Out of the corner of her eye she exchanged a look with her sister and knew without doubt that they shared the same thought. Jacob Miller and Widow Jennings appeared close enough in age to be married, and their casual banter bespoke of a friendship that seemed more than unusual. Eleanor could only imagine what Jacob’s wife must be like.
After the pleasantries were exchanged, Eleanor tried to fill the odd moment of awkward silence that fell over them. “We . . . we cannot thank you enough for the cottage,” she managed to say to Jacob, hoping that her voice did not give away her personal disappointment in the size and condition of the habitation. “It was very kind of you to offer it to us.”
“Ach, Eleanor! You are family, ja? And that’s what family does. Helps each other during the difficult times.” He leaned over and mumbled to Widow Jennings, but loud enough for all to hear, “At least the good ones do, the ones that stop thinking of their own needs long enough to notice others!”
Again they both laughed as if sharing a wonderful private joke, a joke that Eleanor suspected had to do with her half brother and his wife, Fanny.
“Now, girls,” Widow Jennings said when her laughter had faded. “We insist that you come to the haus for supper. Your company is mandatory at our table. And you must meet Jacob’s good friend, Christian Bechtler. He’ll be stopping in for some supper as well.”
“I . . . I . . . ” Maem didn’t know how to respond and stumbled over her words.
“We’d be delighted,” Eleanor ignored the pleading look from her sister and responded on behalf of her mother. While it would have been easy enough to plead weariness from the day’s move, Eleanor also knew that they had no food for supper. Besides, it would be impolite to decline when Jacob was their benefactor.
“Just wunderbarr!” Widow Jennings said. She exaggerated whispering to Maem, “One of your two dochders should do right well as his fraa!” Once again she laughed, and Jacob joined her.
“Oh!” Maem’s intake of breath and quick glance in Eleanor’s direction did not escape Jacob and his mother-in-law’s attention.
“What’s this?” Jacob said inquisitively, looking from one to the other.
Widow Jennings immediately seized the opportunity to inquire further. “Perhaps one of your dochders has a special friend already, ja?” She eyed Eleanor suspiciously and with a knowing smile on her lips.
Eleanor colored at the suggestion.
“Vell, ja,” Maem said, surprising Eleanor with her candor. “We do expect a visitor to come calling on my oldest.”
“Ach! A wedding this autumn?” Widow Jennings looked at Jacob, her eyes wide and full of hope. “Jacob! You must start preparing!” She returned her attention to Maem and Eleanor, unaware that Maggie had slipped back into the room. “And who is this special friend, hmm?”
Eleanor started to shake her head to indicate that her mother had spoken too quickly on her behalf when Maggie made her presence known. “Why, you must mean—”
“Shh!” Eleanor cut her off before she could speak Edwin’s name.
But it was enough information to delight Widow Jennings. “Oh, a guessing game! I do love little puzzles. Surely we will find out who this friend is. Might you give me a hint, Maggie? A letter perhaps?”
“F!” Maggie said, shooting a glance at Eleanor as if to say, “What harm could one letter do?”
“F. . . F. . . ” Widow Jennings glanced at the ceiling as if pondering the possibilities. “Frederick? I don’t think I know any Fredericks in the area.”
Jacob held up his hand. “There was that one Frederick. The one who married the Blank girl, ja?”
“He’s from Ohio and married, Jacob,” Widow Jennings said, stressing the word married. “Clearly a married man is not our mysterious courter with the F name!” She paused, thinking. Then, as if an idea crossed her mind, she lit up and widened her eyes. “Mayhaps F is not his first name, but his family name!” Delighted with the game, she clapped her hands like a child. “Oh, I shall have much fun in asking around to see if we can discover who this mysterious friend is!” She chuckled to herself, clearly amused by the challenge. “I do so love a good mystery!”
Jacob leaned forward as if telling a great secret. “She does, I fear. My fraa, Leah, is just the opposite. Much too much work to do and no time for playing games. But Widow Jennings does favor a good game of trying to determine who is courting whom!”
Again, Widow Jennings playfully pushed at his arm. “Now stop, Jacob! You’ll have them thinking all sorts of bad things about me! Such as I’m a gossip or bad person!”
He laughed. “You are a gossip, but surely not a bad person.” Without further delay, Jacob started for the door. “We must be going. The farrier is coming, you know.” He waited for Widow Jennings. “Farrier starts with f. I reckon it’s not him, is it now?”
They both laughed as they headed toward the door, Widow Jennings pausing in the doorway to bid them good-bye one last time. “I have no doubt we shall all become fast friends! In fact, you should dine with us every evening until your haus is properly set up. I’ll make certain to tell my dochder, Leah, to plan on that!” One quick glance around the room and her eyes bulged from her head. “And I see that fixing this place shall take quite some time, ja?”
No sooner had they left than Mary Ann turned to Eleanor and, moaning aloud, rolled her eyes in defiance. “Why did you accept their invitation, Eleanor? We’ve just arrived and she’s quite much to deal with after such a stressful day!”
Eleanor straightened her shoulders and stared directly at her sister. “It’s the right thing to do, Mary Ann. They are, after all, our hosts!”
“Of what?” Mary Ann gestured around the room mockingly. “Four walls and a roof that probably leaks when it rains? I’m surprised there aren’t any snakes in here, along with the mice and spiders.”
“Tha
t sounds rather ungrateful,” Eleanor chided.
“At the first sign of a snake in the house I will personally move back to Manheim, Fanny or no Fanny!” Maem’s indignation caused Eleanor to smile, especially when Mary Ann shivered at her own mention of snakes.
Maggie lit up at the mention of a snake. “If you do find it, don’t kill it, Maem!”
Ignoring Maggie, Maem sighed as she looked pointedly at Mary Ann. “Grateful we should be, for regardless of your initial impression of Jacob and his mother-in-law, they have been the only decent family members to step forward and offer us a place to live.” Her eyes roamed around the room. Eleanor didn’t have to wonder what her mother saw underneath the dust and cobwebs and cracked paint on the walls: hard work and a lot of it. “And I believe that ten snakes hiding in the pantry here are better than the one snake living in our former house.”
To that comment neither daughter replied. They merely shook their heads at the reference to Fanny and returned their attention to the chore at hand: cleaning their new home.
Chapter Eight
THE LARGE FARMER’S table was set for twelve, and one place setting remained empty. Mary Ann sat next to it, having been assigned the spot next to the end of the bench. The platter of sliced ham and the bowls of steaming vegetables, all fresh from the garden, created a pretty picture, especially with the people seated around the table.
Jacob sat at the head of the table with his wife, Leah, beside him. Widow Jennings assumed the other end of the table, and the children sat quietly in between. They ranged in age from eight to two years of age, and from the looks of Jacob’s wife, another one might be on the way. Clearly the young mother, her hands full with caring for a household and four young children, had no time or energy for socializing. She had a forlorn look—dark circles under her eyes and no hint of a smile on her face. Eleanor had glanced at Mary Ann when they were introduced to Leah, and without one word being shared between them, Eleanor had known that Mary Ann immediately disliked Leah, having immediately identified that Leah was one, and only one, word: dull.
Unlike Jacob or his mother-in-law, the rest of his family was not as talkative, either from not having the opportunity to get a word into the conversation or by choice, Eleanor did not know. What she did know was that Jacob’s wife was much younger than he, and had she been a little less morose, they might have become friends.
After they prayed silently and began eating, Widow Jennings began her lively conversation once again. She talked about the garden and the members of the church district, mentioning the names of their leaders. Eleanor learned that Christian Bechtler was one of the g’may’s preachers, despite being an older man who had never married.
“Such a rarity!” Widow Jennings exclaimed, her mouth full of ham. She continued to talk while she chewed the food. “Isn’t it, Jacob? An unmarried man being nominated! Whoever heard of such a thing?”
Jacob took over when she paused to swallow. “Ja, that’s true. But he is such a righteous man, so godly and submissive to the Lord. If an exception was ever made, this was the man to do it for!” He punctuated the air with his fork as he spoke.
When an unusual silence fell between the two, most likely because they were taking their next bites of food, Eleanor took the opportunity to inquire further. “And what does Christian Bechtler do?”
Waving her own fork in the air absentmindedly, Widow Jennings answered enthusiastically. “He runs a harness-making store. Quite a large one, if I might add. And rather fancy harnesses. Not just plain ones for the Amish folk, you know.” Then, as if she was telling a great secret, she lowered her voice and leaned forward. “People say he has clients from all corners of the country and Europe too! Quite a successful fellow, he is! Employs quite a few of the young men in our district, bless him. But he lives alone in that large haus of his. And with right gut farmland too! No fraa, although there was speculation at one time . . . ”
“He’d be a right gut catch for one of you girls!” Jacob interrupted, pointing his fork at Mary Ann first and then at Eleanor.
“Ach! Jacob! Don’t forget that Eleanor is already spoken for!” Widow Jennings said teasingly. “The mysterious man with the name that begins with F!”
Eleanor flushed and lowered her eyes.
Maem did her best to change the subject so that she could alleviate her daughter’s discomfort. “What happened to his intended, then?” she inquired, regarding Widow Jennings’s comment about Christian Bechtler.
“Ach, heaven help us!” Widow Jennings pressed her hand on her heart and leaned forward. “I’m not one to gossip, but there was a young woman who caught his fancy. When he was younger, you know, of course. But she had a questionable rumschpringe, and Christian’s parents were quite adamant that their family name not be sullied by such talk and speculation. They sent him to Ohio to apprentice at a harness-making store. When he returned, she was gone.”
“How tragic!” Mary Ann exclaimed. “Gone, as in perished?”
“Nee,” Jacob said, lowering his voice as he glanced toward the door as if expecting someone. “Gone from the Amish community. She run off, she did.”
“With an Englischer!” Widow Jennings added in a low voice. “Christian was most devastated and spent much time trying to locate her, I’m afraid.”
Mary Ann’s eyes widened. “Did he ever find her?”
Leah cleared her throat and glanced toward her children, each one of them sitting quietly on the bench but listening intently to the conversation.
Jacob laughed. “Little pitchers have big ears . . . ”
Ignoring her son-in-law—and grandchildren for that matter—Widow Jennings lifted an eyebrow as she stared at Mary Ann, who was clearly giving her undivided attention to the subject. “Of course, there is a little more to the story . . . ”
But Widow Jennings could disclose no additional information, for the door opened and a tall man entered the room, pausing to remove his straw hat and hang it on a hook on the wall.
His dark hair framed his face, a handsome face in Eleanor’s opinion, that was too obviously lacking the mustache-less beard that all married Amish men wore. Unlike most Amish men he was not very tan, most likely since, as Widow Jennings had pointed out just moments before, he worked inside, unlike the Amish men who farmed. But he had a pleasant look about him, one that spoke of high virtue and humility at the same time.
“I apologize for being late,” he said politely to Widow Jennings. His deep voice commanded everyone’s attention, all eyes turning to look at him. Unaware of the charismatic presence that seemed to surround him, he nodded at Jacob and his family before he glanced at the Detweilers. His eyes, so dark and flashing, seemed to linger, just for a second, on Mary Ann, especially when she slid over to permit him more room to sit next to her. “The Detweilers, ja? It’s a pleasure to meet you. We have been looking forward to welcoming you to our community.”
Only after he was seated, and said a short silent prayer, did the conversation resume.
Widow Jennings was quick to introduce him to the newcomers, pausing just briefly to add, “And we dare not neglect to mention that you should form no attachments to Eleanor, Christian. She has a special friend.” The way that she emphasized the word special brought a fresh blush to Eleanor’s cheeks, and for just one moment, she wished she could sink into the floor.
Jacob laughed, clearly unaware of (or simply unconcerned for) Eleanor and Christian’s discomfort regarding the joke told at their expense.
Christian’s dark eyes darted to look at Eleanor. He forced a friendly smile. “I can assure you,” he said in slow, drawn-out words with nothing but kindness behind them, “that my attachments will be made equally to all of the Detweilers, Widow Jennings. They are, after all, your family as well as new members of our church district.”
His response pleased everyone at the table, and Eleanor knew, at once, that she appreciated his kind handling of Widow Jennings’s crass manners.
For the rest of the meal his attention f
ocused on discussing matters related to farming with Jacob, not on anything of particular interest to any of the women or children around the table. And when Leah excused herself to change the baby and put the youngest children to bed, Maggie and Mary Ann looked as if they too wanted to leave.
Eleanor shook her head at them, glancing at the plates as a silent indication that they could not leave until everything was cleaned and put away. In response Mary Ann rolled her eyes.
“Well, Bechtler, I don’t believe I shall listen to your advice on the autumn haying,” Jacob said at last. He pushed his plate forward and his chair backward, both at the same time. With good humor, he raised an eyebrow at his guest. “You are, after all, known for harness making, not crop predicting, ja?”
Widow Jennings laughed.
Christian smiled, clearly not offended by Jacob’s remark. “Ah, true,” he said politely. “But many a farmer comes to my shop and shares their secrets. I have the benefit of many while you, dear friend, have the benefit of only a few.”
“Ach, vell now!” Jacob tapped his hand against the edge of the table, his eyes twinkling at the good-natured comeback. “You have me beat on that one, Bechtler! I can’t argue that!” He winked at Eleanor and Mary Ann. “But I still say that, once we say the after-prayer, I’m going to bore you with more of my strategy for the back two paddocks and, even worse, ask you to walk with me to see!”
“It will be my pleasure,” Christian responded. “Perhaps the young women would like to walk with us to see as well?” He looked directly at Mary Ann when he said this.
A moment’s silence followed his invitation, and all eyes turned to Mary Ann. She seemed to stumble over her words, and Eleanor knew that her sister had been caught off guard. “Oh, I . . . ” Mary Ann fidgeted on the bench, wringing her hands on her lap. “I . . . ”
Eleanor leaned forward, placing a hand on Mary Ann’s arm and speaking up on behalf of her sister. “What a kind invitation,” she said. “But I do believe we shall leave the walking and hay-making talk to you two men. We should help clean up the dishes and then retire to the cottage. It has been a rather long day.”