by Sarah Price
“Good evening to you too,” he said as cheerfully as one could expect from Christian Bechtler. He turned his face toward the sky, shutting his eyes for just a moment as if enjoying the feeling of the sun on his cheeks. “God’s blessed us with some fine weather this week.”
“Indeed he has.” Eleanor smiled at him and wished that Mary Ann would stop scanning the horizon over his shoulder. Her impertinence toward Christian was a source of never-ending discomfort for everyone in the family, especially since his interest in her was more than obvious even if it was unspoken.
Clearly Christian noticed Mary Ann’s surveillance of the road, and as politely as he could, he stepped aside so that she could have a better view. His reward was a forced smile of appreciation that lacked any warmth from her. Eleanor wished that she could shake her sister for her lack of manners, especially to such a kind man as Christian Bechtler. His admiration of Mary Ann never wavered, despite her obvious dismissal of his high regard for her.
“Where is he?” she mumbled to herself.
Being an honorable and righteous man, Christian did not inquire as to whom she waited for or what held her so captivated down the road. Eleanor suspected he already knew. Instead, Christian smiled at both of the sisters and announced with great fanfare, “I’ve come with an invitation! An outdoor supper at my haus on Friday evening. Like a picnic.”
He seemed quite pleased with himself, but Mary Ann hardly glanced at him.
“For all of you, of course,” Christian added.
Maggie poked her head outside the window. “Even me?”
He laughed. “What type of picnic would it be without you, sweet Maggie?”
“Mayhaps Maem will let me leave school early!” With great enthusiasm Maggie disappeared from the window, and the sound of her voice speaking to her mother carried through the air.
Eleanor tried to hide her amusement at Maggie’s eavesdropping and inquiry as well as the sound of Christian’s laughter. It was a sound she hadn’t heard very often while in his presence. His intensity, so apparent in his dark eyes that seemed to watch everything without ever expressing his emotions, hindered good humor, it appeared to Eleanor. Hearing him laugh, especially at Maggie, made her realize that she may have misjudged Christian Bechtler.
“Shall we bring something, Preacher?”
He nodded, his eyes occasionally darting toward Mary Ann, who continued to display her distraction from their conversation. “Jacob Miller and his family will be there as will Widow Jennings and a few other folks from the g’may. I have everything covered except for dessert. Mayhaps you might find time to bake a pie or two?”
“Of course!” Silently, however, Eleanor couldn’t fathom arriving at a picnic with so many people with just a pie or two. Dessert was as important to the meal as the main course. Certainly they would bring cookies, cake, pie, and, depending on the weather, ice cream. Fortunately, with the sewing jobs beginning to trickle in, they could afford to make extra desserts for when they visited others.
From behind the hedgerow of evergreen trees, the sound of an approaching buggy could be heard. Christian glanced over his shoulder, and when he turned back to the two women, Mary Ann had lit up, her lack of interest in anything suddenly replaced with great enthusiasm.
“John Willis has been calling,” Eleanor said softly.
“Ah. I see.” He looked at Mary Ann one more time. She began waving to Willis when she could see him, her attention focused strictly on him. Christian cleared his throat. “And Willis will be invited to the picnic as well.”
At the mention of John Willis, Mary Ann finally turned toward Christian as if seeing him for the first time. “Ja?” She smiled, already taking a step in the direction of the buggy. Eleanor flushed when she saw that Willis had arrived in an open-top courting buggy, a fact that was certainly not lost on either Christian or Mary Ann. “Oh, a picnic will be wunderbarr fun! Danke for the invitation!”
And with that she hurried to the buggy. Eagerly stepping onto the footrest, she hoisted herself up so that she could sit beside Willis.
“Good day to you,” Willis said in the general direction of the house. His attention, however, was on Mary Ann.
“Oh, Willis!” she gushed. “Christian just invited us to a picnic at his haus next Friday at supper time! Isn’t that special?”
“Indeed!” He smiled at her. “Now let’s go for our ride.” He slapped the reins on the back of the horse, and the carriage lurched forward in such a way that Mary Ann fell against Willis, her laughter a little too loud for Eleanor’s taste.
In silence Christian and Eleanor watched them leave, Mary Ann gracing them with one last wave before the buggy turned the corner and disappeared behind the trees.
“I’m afraid my schwester is not of the old school where emotions are kept to oneself in the interest of personal etiquette and public discretion.” Eleanor sighed, turning to face Christian. Her embarrassment at Mary Ann’s behavior was only countered by her wish that Christian might find happiness. “Her notions of courtship lack the common sense, I reckon, of one who has been exposed to the world. Perhaps she should gain that exposure to the world so that she can understand disappointments often follow blind happiness.”
Christian remained standing there, staring at the empty lane where the buggy had just left. He seemed deep in thought for a few seconds and then, finally, said, “Such a disappointment would change her very regard for courtship, perhaps not just of one suitor but of all, ja?”
Frowning, Eleanor tried to make sense of his question. “I do not confess to know what the future would hold for her, Christian, should she encounter such a disappointment.”
“Ah.” At last he tore his gaze from the lane and looked at Eleanor, his dark eyes sorrowful and full of melancholy. “I do not wish exposure to the world for your schwester, Eleanor.” He remained silent for a few moments as he studied the landscape. Finally he continued talking. “I don’t know how much Widow Jennings has shared with you, Eleanor, but I once knew a young woman who was quite similar to your schwester. Her vibrancy for life equaled her energy to experience living. Unfortunately circumstances forced her to know the world all too soon, I’m afraid. I would not wish such a fate on anyone, especially someone like Mary Ann.”
From inside the house Eleanor’s mother called out to Christian, inviting him inside for a glass of meadow tea. He bowed his head to Eleanor, excusing himself to climb the two steps at the front door. When he disappeared inside the house, Eleanor stared after him, mulling over what he had just confided in her. While Widow Jennings had mentioned something about Christian Bechtler and a young girl, she had given no hint to the circumstances that resulted in his never marrying her. Now, based on what he told her, Eleanor’s imagination ran wild, and she said a quick prayer that God would watch over her sister. After so much turmoil in their lives, an unfortunate circumstance befalling Mary Ann would be the worst of things to happen.
Chapter Twelve
LATE FRIDAY AFTERNOON Eleanor, Mary Ann, and Maggie walked the two miles to Christian Bechtler’s house for the promised picnic. Most of the road was shielded by large trees, their massive branches covered in green leaves creating a canopy of protection from the morning sun. In the distance a herd of black Angus cows grazed in a paddock, the sound of their gentle calling to each other breaking the silence of the walk.
Eleanor and Mary Ann were too tired from a week of work to indulge in much conversation. Maggie trudged behind her two older sisters, dragging her feet despite Eleanor’s repeated warnings that she would scuff up her Sunday shoes. Maggie simply did not care.
“I hate walking so far,” she complained, still kicking at stones in the road.
“It’s good for you,” was Eleanor’s simple reply. “Between you at school and us sewing all week, the walk is just what we all need!”
“Indeed!” Mary Ann grumbled, reaching up to rub at her neck. “I’m tired of sewing all day. I’ll become an old hunchback before you know it!”
Eleanor was glad that Maem had ridden over in Jacob’s buggy, for the roads were hilly and Maem seemed especially fatigued as of late. Eleanor presumed it was from so much hard work involved in fixing up the cottage as well as the heat that seemed to linger on the second floor. Sleeping was next to impossible in the evening until the humidity dissipated around two a.m. However, as soon as the sun crested over the horizon, the air became thick once again. Today they were fortunate, as a cool front was blowing in from the north.
“I don’t understand why we cannot have a horse and buggy,” Maggie moaned, trudging along behind her two sisters.
Eleanor was quick to respond. “You know we cannot afford it, schwester.”
“Everyone else has a horse and buggy. All they do is eat hay and grass!”
Mary Ann turned around, walking backward so she could see Maggie. “Mayhaps your wish will come true!”
There was something about the way she said these words, a gleeful tone to her voice, that raised the red flag for Eleanor. “It’s not fair to raise her expectations, only to be disappointed,” she said to Mary Ann cautiously.
“Oh fiddle-faddle! I don’t know why I’ve kept it a secret anyway. I’m not raising her expectations, and she won’t be disappointed! You see, Willis has offered to give me a horse,” Mary Ann blurted. “Isn’t that a fine gift?”
Immediately, Eleanor stopped walking. She faced Mary Ann with a concerned expression. “You’ve known him less than two weeks. I’ll be glad to hear that you declined his offer.”
At this statement Mary Ann tilted her chin defiantly. “I most certainly did not.”
“A horse!” Maggie jumped up and down. “Oh, I hope I can learn to ride it.”
Eleanor tried to maintain her composure. “We cannot afford a horse, and you both know it. We also have nowhere to stable it. Even more important than the impracticality of owning a horse in our current financial state, it would be very inappropriate to accept such a gift.”
“And why is that?” Mary Ann cried.
“Is there . . . some sort of an understanding between the two of you?”
Eleanor’s question caused Mary Ann to lower her eyes.
“I thought not. And therefore the entire g’may would have much to say about you receiving a gift of such magnitude from Willis.”
Waving her hand at Eleanor, Mary Ann continued walking. “Oh fiddle-faddle! That Amish grapevine is ridiculous and of no concern to me. Let them talk.”
If Eleanor wanted to alert her sister to the fact that the Amish grapevine already was talking about her sister’s untraditional relationship with Willis, she kept her mouth shut. Just the previous day Widow Jennings had visited to help Maem and Eleanor can peaches for their winter pantry. She had been only too happy to share the gossip regarding Mary Ann riding beside Willis in the open-top courting buggy, not just last Saturday but on Sunday too. There had even been speculation about where they had gone on Sunday because they had apparently not shown up at the youth gathering as planned. But Eleanor feared that pressing her point would only make Mary Ann more stubbornly obstinate, so she switched tactics.
“You know a horse would only be another worry for Maem,” Eleanor cautioned. “We can barely afford enough food for ourselves, never mind food for a horse. You will refuse that gift, Mary Ann. I insist on it.”
Like an insolent child, Mary Ann stomped her foot as she walked away from Eleanor. Yet the argument was over. The meager income they had from the interest on their small inheritance needed to be set aside for food. Without a garden at the cottage they did not have any vegetables to can, and as for fruits they had to buy them from local farmers. Over the winter they would have to rely on what little they could purchase to make up for the rest. Feeding and tending to a horse was not in their current budget.
When the three sisters turned down the lane that led to Christian’s harness shop, all discussion about a horse was forgotten. Eleanor caught her breath, and stunned at what she saw, Mary Ann didn’t pay attention and stumbled over a rock on the side of the road. It was Maggie who said what they were thinking.
“Is this Preacher Bechtler’s haus?” Maggie looked up at Eleanor as if anticipating an answer. “It’s—”
“Magnificent,” Mary Ann completed Maggie’s sentence. “I thought he merely had the harness shop. That’s all that Widow Jennings said.”
Eleanor tried to compose herself from the surprise that she too felt.
Before them was a large white farmhouse, complete with a wraparound porch and sizable windows on the first floor. Several of the windows looked like they were glass doors that opened onto the porch. Two large oak trees, one on the western side and the other on the eastern side, shielded the house from the midday sun. His garden, located along the back of the property, flourished with well-manicured plants. And the building where he ran his harness shop was just behind the barn, another large white building with big windows that displayed racks of various leather goods.
“When does he have time to tend to all of this?” Eleanor whispered.
“It’s not as if he has any family, I reckon,” Mary Ann said.
Eleanor shot Mary Ann a look, but when she detected no sarcasm in her sister’s voice, she returned her attention to the house. She couldn’t imagine how Christian had the time, or wherewithal, to operate such a successful harness store, tend to the g’may as a preacher, and manage the upkeep of the farm. From the looks of the fields in the background, he had a successful corn crop that year as well. Her respect for Christian, while already great, grew tremendously.
“Let’s go,” she said, nudging her sisters.
Several buggies were already parked in the area near the harness store. Mary Ann, however, quickly began searching for Willis’s courting buggy. When she didn’t see it, she barely greeted the others that were already gathered under the shade of the large oak tree before she began staring down the lane, searching for his arrival.
Widow Jennings raised an eyebrow at Mary Ann’s obvious impatience and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “I wouldn’t have believed it, but now . . . ”
Eleanor turned around. “Believed what, Widow Jennings?”
“Oh, never mind me,” she laughed, her cheeks pinking up. “Just speaking when I shouldn’t.”
But Eleanor insisted.
Dramatically leaning forward, Widow Jennings lowered her voice and looked around before she spoke, as if ensuring that no one could overhear their conversation. “I heard that Willis was driving your schwester in his courting buggy just the other day. Sunday, I believe.”
This much Eleanor knew to be true. “I scarcely find that something hard to believe,” she said. “Many young people go riding in open-top buggies. And he was taking her to the youth gathering.”
“Ja, vell, that was only the beginning,” Widow Jennings said with a touch of smugness. She leaned back, as if contemplating sharing the rest of her confidence with Eleanor. Finally she continued. “It wasn’t just that they were in the courting buggy. It was the fact that they did not arrive at the youth gathering, as I’ve already told you. Since then I’ve found out where they were. Apparently they were seen driving to that farm he is to inherit.” Widow Jennings paused, leveling her gaze at Eleanor. “They were alone in the haus, Eleanor.”
Stunned, Eleanor took a moment to regain her composure. Was her sister truly that ferhoodled in love with Willis that she would compromise her reputation by entering a house with Willis unsupervised? And not just any house but his future house? With such a short period of time having passed since they met and no engagement to announce, Mary Ann being alone with Willis in a house would certainly raise quite a few eyebrows and cause women to talk.
“I’m . . . I’m sure you must be mistaken.”
“Nee, Eleanor,” Widow Jennings said, folding her hands piously before her and standing up as straight as she could. “It comes from a very reliable source, I can assure you.”
“I can assure you that if my schwester did go into
his haus, nothing inappropriate happened.” Eleanor wanted to believe her own words, but she knew that Mary Ann’s emotions were driving her actions when her sense of propriety should be in charge. Would Willis be such a flirt as to take advantage of Mary Ann’s adoration? Even though Eleanor disapproved of the couple’s too obvious deep affection, she couldn’t believe that Willis was such a scoundrel.
The arrival of John Willis interrupted their private conversation.
Mary Ann waved at him as he drove the horse and carriage down the lane. “He’s here!” she said to no one in particular.
Widow Jennings lifted an eyebrow and gave Eleanor a knowing smile.
Christian took a few steps toward the newest arrival and greeted Willis with as much warmth as he would any visitor to his farm. But Eleanor could sense the stiffness in his spine as Mary Ann rushed past him to stand beside the carriage.
“Willis! You made me worry you wouldn’t come!” she said, not caring that anyone else was nearby.
He stepped on the brake and dropped the reins onto the seat beside him before jumping down to the ground. He reached out and touched her arm, a gesture innocent yet intimate at the same time. “And miss such a lovely gathering?” He smiled at the gathered people. “Highly unlikely! I shall always be where my heart is,” he declared.
Once again Widow Jennings clicked her tongue and turned away.
Standing beside Christian, Eleanor took the opportunity to redirect his attention. “I had no idea that you also farmed, Christian. When do you have time for all of the chores and responsibilities you have taken on?”
“Ah, Eleanor,” he said gently. “I hire young farmers to tend the land, men who need the income to buy their own farms. It’s my duty to care for God’s land as well as my pleasure to help others.”
“How very righteous,” she complimented. It was true that farmland was increasingly shrinking in Lancaster County. Many young Amish couples were leaving the area, moving to more remote areas to start new communities in states that offered more land and fewer tourists. She often read about these new communities in the weekly newspaper, The Budget, and wondered what it would be like to pick up and leave. Isolating, for certain, and not something she wished to consider for her own future.