“Do you think Frederick got a chance to ask to court Lucy before she left with Nick?” Katura questioned.
“Probably not. Otherwise, she would have stayed until the singing was over so Frederick could have given her a ride home. Or she would have asked him for a ride right then since she was sick.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Katura yawned. “Can you believe she asked Nick for a ride instead? That’s awfully forward.”
“Jah, but Nick’s so nice he probably agreed because he felt sorry for her.”
Lucy considered coughing to let her stepsisters know she was awake and could hear them, but she felt too humiliated. Why didn’t Mildred and Katura believe she hadn’t left because she was ill? Couldn’t they at least entertain the possibility Nick was interested in her?
As if answering Lucy’s unspoken question, Katura said, “One thing’s for sure. He’d never consider being her suitor. She’s not his type. Nick only courts women who are outgoing and adventuresome. You know, women who are more like you and me.”
Lucy heard Mildred gasp. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “Nick probably wanted to talk to Lucy about one of us!”
“Do you really think so?” Katura questioned, and Lucy discerned the hopeful catch in her voice.
“Jah. That’s how buwe in Willow Creek sometimes determine if a maedel is interested in being courted. They talk to her friends or sisters. Or if they’re really shy, they’ll pass a note,” Mildred explained knowingly.
“But Nick isn’t shy at all.”
“Neh, not usually. But maybe he likes one of us so much he’s afraid we’ll reject him. Maybe that’s why it’s taken him so long to propose courtship—he hasn’t been able to work up the courage. So instead of asking us straight out, he’s taking the safe approach.”
Lucy would have been inflamed, but instead she pushed her quilt against her mouth to suppress a giggle. Her stepsisters might have lacked self-awareness, but they sure didn’t lack self-esteem.
“I should get him. I’m the oldest,” Katura demanded, as if she were competing for a prize.
“You can’t claim him. He’ll decide for himself which one of us he wants to court.”
As her stepsisters bickered about who was more worthy to have Nick as her suitor, Lucy rolled to her side and curled the pillow over her ear to block them out. They may have been right to think Nick didn’t want to court Lucy, but they were just as wrong to imagine he wanted to court either of them. Once again, she stifled a guffaw. She couldn’t wait for her cousin Bridget to visit at Christmastime so they could share a laugh over the hilarious irony of it all.
Chapter Three
Lucy woke early on Monday morning, planning to make breakfast for her father before he left for work. Betty and her daughters weren’t early risers, so Lucy cherished the time she had alone with her daed. It was one of the rare occasions when she could get a word in edgewise, but sometimes instead of conversing they ate in companionable silence, enjoying the familiarity of the pattern they’d established years before Betty and the girls moved in. But by the time Lucy dressed, brushed her long hair into a bun and washed her face, she heard the wheels of a car rolling down the lane.
The Amish weren’t allowed to drive or own automobiles, but they were permitted to accept rides from Englischers. Lucy’s father’s colleague, Ray, routinely picked him up since their house was on the way to the woodworking production company where they were employed. Not one to take a neighbor’s generosity for granted, Lucy’s father regularly assisted Ray with significant house and yard projects such as roofing or installing fencing.
Marvin just as well could have taken the buggy to work, but Lucy had an inkling he wanted to be sure there was transportation at home for her. For one thing, if she needed to deliver her goods to Schrock’s Shop, her father didn’t like her to walk, even though Main Street was barely a mile away. For another, Lucy knew he secretly wanted to ensure there was a way for someone to seek medical intervention quickly in the event she developed breathing problems. Two years ago she suffered an acute respiratory attack while she and Betty were at home without a buggy. Betty had had to run to the phone shanty to call for help, and she had wound up gasping so bad by the time the ambulance arrived that the paramedics thought she was the patient. The episode had shaken Lucy’s father deeply, and after that he always left the buggy behind.
Touched by her father’s thoughtfulness, Lucy never let him know that most days it was Mildred or Katura who used the buggy to travel the short distance to their jobs on Main Street, where they worked part-time. They were both cashiers at the mercantile, which was a grocery and goods store catering primarily to Willow Creek’s Amish. Granted, the two young women spent the better part of their shift on their feet, but most Amish meed in their area walked farther than that to get to their jobs.
When the two of them weren’t using the buggy, Betty was. She frequently journeyed to Elmsville to visit her ailing sister. But Lucy never cared; she was so glad to have some quiet time to herself she would have offered to carry her stepsisters to town on her back if it meant she didn’t have to listen to their prattle.
That’s a very judgmental thing for me to think, she reflected. The Lord makes us all different. I don’t like them criticizing me for keeping to myself so I shouldn’t criticize them for being so chatty.
Since she was awake and dressed anyway, Lucy decided she’d make breakfast for the other women. They loved buttermilk pancakes and sausage, and a hot breakfast would hit the spot before they set out in the chilly November air. She set four places at the table, and just after she ladled the last scoop of batter onto the iron griddle, Mildred and Katura appeared in the doorway.
“That smells appenditlich,” Mildred gushed.
“But you shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. Especially not after being sick last night,” Katura protested, showing a rare concern for Lucy’s health.
“It’s not a bother and, as I told you, I wasn’t ill,” she insisted as Betty ambled into the room.
“Guder mariye,” she greeted the three young women. “What a treat to have pannekuche and wascht. What’s the special occasion? Did something happen last night you want to tell us about?”
Lucy was taken aback by how blatantly Betty hinted she wanted to know more about why Nick had brought her home. Despite the fact most Willow Creek Amish youth kept their courtships to themselves, it was clear to Lucy this was one more way in which her stepsisters and stepmother abided by a different set of customs than Lucy did. She could never figure out if the difference was a matter of their personalities or if it was because they were from the Elmsville district, which was governed by a slightly more lenient Ordnung.
“Jah, something did happen last night!” Mildred blurted out. “Nick Burkholder left the singing early to give Lucy a ride home. And we think we know why.”
Even though Betty was already aware Nick had brought Lucy home, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why?”
“He wants to court either Mildred or me. Probably me,” Katura said. Then she demanded, “Out with it, Lucy. Did he give you a message to give one of us?”
It was one thing for Katura and Mildred to whisper about their theories when they thought she was asleep, but Lucy was dumbfounded they’d suggest right to her face Nick had brought her home only to inquire about them. No wonder they’d been so solicitous about her making breakfast—they were trying to flatter her. Maybe they were each hoping she’d put in a good word for them with Nick.
“Neh, he didn’t mention either of you at all,” she said, sounding as complacent as she felt. She slid the final pancakes onto a platter. After placing the dish on the table, she sat down and asked, “Shall I say grace?”
No sooner had she finished thanking the Lord for their food and asking Him to bless their day than Mildred coaxed, “You probably don’t want to make one of us feel bad, but we can’t stand not knowing who Nick’s intere
sted in. Please tell us, Lucy.”
Betty cleared her throat. “They’re right, Lucy. It isn’t fair of you to keep the girls on tenterhooks like this.”
That was the last straw. “Okay, if you must know,” Lucy began, and Mildred leaned forward while Katura froze with her fork midair. “It’s me he’s interested in spending time with. In fact, he’s picking me up at six o’clock on Tuesday evening.”
Katura lowered her utensil and Mildred slouched back against her chair again. Lucy almost felt sorry she’d crushed their hopes until Mildred waved her hand dismissively and said, “Okay then, don’t tell us the truth. We’ll find out eventually.”
“But she has to tell us which one of us he wants to court,” Katura contradicted. “What if she convinces him I’m not interested? Or that you’re not interested? I don’t want her speaking on my behalf, do you?”
“Lucy, you can’t—” Mildred began to whine.
To Lucy’s surprise, Betty broke in. “If Lucy says Nick is interested in her, I think that’s nice, so stop pestering her. You two girls will have plenty of opportunities to socialize with all the Grischtdaag parties and events coming up anyway.” She reached over and patted Lucy’s hand and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell your daed about your new suitor. As long as you finish your household chores each day, I’m sure he won’t mind if you walk out with Nick at night.”
Lucy wanted to retort that she always finished her chores and half of her stepsisters’ chores, too, but she was so grateful Betty had put an end to Mildred and Katura’s needling she let the remark slide.
At least that part of the plan is accomplished, she thought. She couldn’t help but wonder if Nick was having as much difficulty convincing his family they were courting as she’d had convincing hers.
* * *
It was easier for Nick to get out of working late on Tuesday than he expected. Apparently, his mother had told his father he was courting Lucy, and there were no objections when he asked if there was any way he could leave work at his usual time that week.
“No problem. Kevin and I can manage things here,” his father said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. Apparently, he thought as highly of Lucy as Nick’s mother did.
As Nick was leaving, Kevin smirked and whispered, “Have a gut time. And remember, this is temporary. Don’t break Lucy’s delicate little heart.” Then he puckered his mouth and smacked his lips in an exaggerated kissing gesture.
“Don’t start anything on fire,” Nick retorted as he set his hat on his head and exited through the back door.
When he turned down the lane to Lucy’s house, he spotted her standing on the porch, clutching a cloak around her chest. It wasn’t that cold outside, but she was behaving as if it were ten degrees below zero. He hoped she wasn’t going to complain about riding in an open-seat buggy in this weather.
He hopped down from the carriage while she crossed the yard in the light streaming from the house windows. “Hi, Lucy,” he said, and reached to support her as she climbed into the buggy, but she kept her arms snug around her chest. She acts as if we’re still kinner in school and I have the cooties, he thought.
“Hello, Nick,” she said in a hushed tone. “Don’t look toward the window because I think we have an audience. I’m hiding my embroidery materials beneath my cloak. I don’t want Betty and my stepsisters to see, because they might realize we’re not actually walking out together.”
Nick chuckled. So she wasn’t as standoffish as he’d thought. “It’s already too dark for them to see this far. They’ll never know. But here, let me help.”
He cupped Lucy’s elbow to propel her upward, but she was so light he nearly tossed her into the buggy and she flung her arms out for balance, upending her tote bag.
“My linen!” she wailed as she retrieved a rectangle of fabric white enough to see in the twilight. “I hope it didn’t get dirty.”
“Sorry about that,” he apologized, feeling like a bull in a china shop. Usually his confidence wasn’t so easily rattled.
They didn’t say another word until they were nearly at the library and Nick asked, “What are you going to say if someone sees you in the library?”
“I’ll probably say hello.”
Nick looked at her sideways, but he couldn’t discern from her profile if she was joking or if she was just too obtuse to know what he meant. “Neh, I mean what excuse are you going to give them for being there alone?”
“Why do I need an excuse to be at the library alone? It’s not as if anyone other than our families know we’re supposedly going out together tonight, right? Your family will be busy at the store and mine wouldn’t dream of coming to the library. So if I meet anyone else from our district, I’ll simply greet them as usual.”
Nick was dubious. He knew how quickly rumors spread in Willow Creek, especially when meed like Katura and Mildred were involved. If they told their peers Nick and Lucy were walking out that night and then someone saw Lucy alone, it wouldn’t take long before their farce would be discovered.
“Do you suppose you could keep a low profile anyway?” he requested.
“Unfortunately, a low profile is all I can keep.” Lucy giggled. “Let’s just say being five feet tall is something of a shortcoming.”
Amused, Nick smiled. Most meed he courted were too self-conscious to laugh at what they considered physical imperfections. Not that Lucy’s height was an imperfection—it was how the Lord had created her—but she was unusually short compared to most of the Amish in their district.
In the library parking lot he offered to help her down from the carriage, but she insisted she could manage on her own. Covertly glancing around, he noticed a group of Englisch preteen girls hanging out on the library steps—probably waiting for their parents—but he didn’t see any Amish people or buggies. “I’ll be back at eight thirty to pick you up,” he said.
“The library doesn’t close until nine so it’s fine if you’re running a few minutes late.” When Lucy smiled Nick noticed that her straight, white teeth gleamed in the light cast by the streetlamp. He watched as she trod past the Englischers who gave her a once-over and then giggled behind their hands. Not even as tall as the shortest of the girls, Lucy held her head high and swung her canvas bag as she passed them. Whether she was oblivious to their presence or deliberately ignoring their ridicule, Nick couldn’t guess. Lucy was more complicated than she seemed on the surface, a characteristic he found both intriguing and frustrating.
Nick directed his horse toward an Englisch lumberyard in Highland Springs. Ordinarily, he would have purchased his supplies from the local lumberyard, but the Englisch one was open late and he was relatively certain he wouldn’t see anyone he knew there at this time of evening.
Since he’d already made Kevin purchase most of the supplies he’d need from their father’s hardware store, Nick only needed to buy paneling. It was a challenge to secure the long pieces of wood in his courting buggy, and he frequently had to stop along the way to the cabin to reposition them.
As he journeyed, Nick thought about Kevin grumbling over how much the supplies cost. That should have been the least of his brother’s concerns. It was as if the boy didn’t fully appreciate how much trouble he would have been in if Jenny Nelson hadn’t extended such grace. Nick asked the Lord to touch Kevin’s conscience and to open his eyes to his careless behavior. Please, Gott, help me to be a better example to him, too.
When he arrived at the cabin, he flicked on the lights and began unloading the supplies. Preoccupied with trying to figure out where to begin deconstructing the wall, Nick didn’t realize how late it was until a clock chimed eight times—or was it nine? He glanced at the mantel place clock. It was nine. The library was closed and Lucy would be waiting. Experience told him the only thing worse than breaking up with a woman was being late for one. She was going to be madder than a hornet.
He flung the last of the mate
rials into a messy stack in the corner of the room, locked the cabin door and bounded across the lawn to his buggy. This was one of the many occasions when it was clear that buying Penny hadn’t been an impractical choice; the animal trotted as quickly as Nick allowed and he arrived at the library within fifteen minutes.
As he approached the building he couldn’t see Lucy and he worried she may have left without him. But how? From what he could tell, it wasn’t likely she’d undertake a walk that far in daytime, much less in the dark. His heart shuddered. Had something befallen her? But when he scanned the entrance area again, he spotted her partially obscured by shrubbery on the side of the library steps. Her bag was at her side and she was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees. She’s so thin she’s probably chilled to the bone, he thought.
Her head was tilted toward the sky and Nick wondered if she was praying. Maybe she was asking God to hasten Nick’s arrival. He brought his buggy to a halt and jumped down. His movement seemed to startle her, and she rose and absentmindedly brushed off her skirt.
“I’m sorry, Lucy,” he said. “I got so involved with my tasks I entirely lost track of time.”
Still looking upward, she replied, “I understand how that can happen. I was so absorbed in my embroidery I almost got locked inside the library just now. The librarian found me in a corner chair in the basement and chased me out. Look, is that Mars?”
Astounded that Lucy wasn’t angry, Nick’s eyes followed the skyward direction of her pointed finger. “Jah, I think you’re right.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked. “I’m usually not outside at this time of night so I hardly ever get to see the planets and the stars.”
Nick saw them all the time, but he never stopped to appreciate them the way she apparently did. They stood side by side in silence observing the sky until a shiver passed over Lucy and she said, “We’d better get going. It’s late.”
Reluctantly, Nick nodded and reached for her bag. He repeated his apology. “I really am sorry I wasn’t here when I said I’d be here. It won’t happen again.”
Her Amish Holiday Suitor (Amish Country Courtships Book 5) Page 4