A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Read online

  Annie had always admired Mary’s brother Adam. From the time he was a boy he could build things—birdhouses and boxes in the beginning, then cabinets and chairs. She had liked his shiny black hair and had always wondered what was going on behind those smoky brown eyes. Then came the time when Annie and Mary came upon Adam building a hope chest in the woodshop.

  “Are you going to sell it?” Mary had asked her older brother.

  “I don’t want to,” Adam had answered. “I’d like to keep it.”

  “What for?” Mary had asked.

  “Maybe for the girl I marry.” At that moment Adam’s eyes had landed on Annie … and she’d been sure he was talking about her.

  That was the day Annie had started to plan. Annie loved planning, and she realized if she married Adam, she and Mary could remain close friends forever.

  But it was not to be.

  The air grew light around them and echoes faded as they emerged from the covered bridge. “You can come out now, scaredy-cat.”

  Hannah’s face peeked out from the blanket. “I wish they would take the cover off that bridge.”

  “Tourists love it,” Annie said, still stuck on her worries. “Those girls who are talking about me … What exactly are they saying?”

  “One of the girls in the group getting baptized said—Oh, I don’t want to gossip, Annie. I won’t tell you her name, but she said she hopes she doesn’t end up twenty years old with no beau in sight.”

  Annie’s cheeks blazed with embarrassment, a fire that no amount of wind could cool. “No beau in sight … that much is true,” she admitted.

  Hannah touched her arm. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, I’m glad you told me, even if the truth hurts.”

  “Well, the best way to make them stop talking that way is to start courting someone.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Annie swallowed over the lump in her throat. She couldn’t think of a single young man in their district who she’d take a ride with. And certainly there was no one she would kiss.

  Maybe she would be an alt maedel.

  “There must be someone you’ve got your eye on,” Hannah prodded.

  Annie shook her head. “No. Honestly, there’s no one who sparks my heart.” None of the young men even came close. “For me, the right man isn’t just looking for a wife. He’s looking to fall in love.” That was the thing holding Annie back from young fellas like Ruben Zook or David Fisher. She wouldn’t settle for just a man.

  She was waiting to fall in love.

  Hannah turned to face her sister, her round face pale as a moon. “Ach! I just got goose bumps. You make it sound so wonderful good. I want to fall in love, too.” Hannah looped an arm through Annie’s. “Help me find a beau, Annie. You know so much about how to talk to a fella and I don’t know where to start. Won’t you help me?”

  Annie smiled. “It’s not like learning to bake a pie.”

  “But you’re a good teacher.” Hannah’s features still seemed childlike though she was only two years younger than Annie. “You taught me how to make the best piecrust in the world.”

  Annie watched the road, moved by the sweet girl gripping her arm. How she would love to help her sister. “It’s not like learning to bake a piecrust. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to hone your kitchen skills. Dat always says that Mamm melted his heart with her venison stew, and I almost won Adam with my flaky piecrust.”

  “I’ll be having lots of chances to cook once Sarah is gone,” Hannah said. “And I promise, I’ll do whatever you say. Will you help me, Annie?” Hannah’s hopeful eyes made her shine like an angel in the darkness.

  At that moment Annie decided to do everything she could to help Hannah find her way to love. It would be an act of goodwill. Besides, it would help take her mind off her own worries.

  “If you want to find a beau, there are three things to remember. Good cooking. Good humor. And enough conversation to make a young fella feel comfortable.”

  “I never know what to say to a boy,” Hannah told her.

  “That’s the thing. The small talk has to flow, smooth as cake batter.” Annie had no problem talking to young men. She flitted from one group to another, chatting with everyone. But Hannah was shy. She hung in the corner of a room, quiet as a moth.

  “Then you’ll help me?” Hannah’s voice soared with hope.

  “I’ll do my best. I can help smooth out your social skills. And I’ll even keep my eyes open for a good match for you.” None of the young men in the district appealed to Annie, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find someone for Hannah.

  “Oh, sister Annie! Denki!” Hannah gave her a quick hug, mindful of the horse’s reins.

  Annie patted her sister’s arm, feeling a sense of satisfaction for the first time in months. She was going to be a matchmaker. She was going to help two people find love and happiness. And what was it Mamm always said?

  Happiness was like jam. You couldn’t spread it without getting some on yourself.

  TEN

  Emma pulled her sweater tight around her and jogged in place to ward off the cool night. A coat would have served her better than a sweater, but who would think to bring out a coat this early in September? Hers was tucked into a cedar chest in Dat and her stepmother Fanny’s room.

  Out here on the roadside, deep black night surrounded her. The croak of frogs rose from the field behind her, a chorus of song to rival the singing her group had just done in the Eichers’ barn. Emma had been careful to keep to the roadside and move out of the way of passing buggies and any cars that might happen this way on a Sunday night, but the ruts and lumps and thistles on the ground made for bumpy walking in the dark.

  Where was Gabe? She had seen him talking with his cousins when she headed out. He couldn’t be far behind.

  She pursed her lips, then smiled. No need to worry. Gabe was a strong, capable young man, and she felt perfectly safe here in the inky darkness at the edge of the Eichers’ mowed fields. Emma liked the soft quiet of night. Nothing could surround you with barely a whisper against your skin the way that darkness did. Her sister Elsie couldn’t understand why Emma wasn’t afraid of the dark.

  “But don’t you know that Gott created the dark, too?” Emma told her. “I think He wanted to remind us how wondrous warm and bright the day is, and He does that. Every night and every day.”

  Elsie had liked Emma’s answer so much that she had taken to asking the question over and over again, and the story of Gott creating night and day had become a family tale that brought them both comfort.

  Emma rubbed her arms briskly as she imagined Elsie at home, snug as a bug under her quilt in bed. The thought of Elsie with her pink lips and button nose, cozy under the covers, warmed her. And as she hugged herself, there came the gentle clip-clop of a horse’s hooves on the pavement.

  Gabe? Oh, she hoped so. She held her spot on the shoulder of the road and waited.

  “Emma? Emma, where are you?”

  “I’m here!” She stepped out, her heart lifting at the approaching sound.

  Gabe called to his horse, halting the buggy. “I heard a voice, but I don’t see the pretty schoolteacher who likes to hide out in cornfields.”

  Emma laughed as she stepped onto the paved road. “You make it sound like a game I play.” She stopped to pat Mercury before she moved to the buggy.

  “I figured one of us must like it, because I sure don’t.” Gabe sat still and tall as she climbed in beside him. A tower of will, he was. She squinted through the darkness, hoping to see the handsome planes of his face and the little smile that he reserved just for her. No one would ever call Gabe happy-go-lucky, but when he was with Emma she always found a way to crack that aloof shell and get a peek at the emotions that glimmered inside.

  “What do you mean?” she teased. “I think it’s exciting to have a secret that no one else knows about.”

  “I think you’re exciting.” He slid a hand around her waist and pulled her close. The warmt
h of his body was welcome in the cool night, and the smell of wood smoke and soap filled her senses. “The secret? I could do without that.”

  When she looked up at him he moved closer and pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of warm sparks flying in the night. His kiss took her breath away. It always did.

  These moments with him were rare, but she cherished being close to him.

  When the kiss ended, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes to drink in the sight of him. Such a handsome boy! Gott had truly blessed her to find him.

  “We’d best get off the main road before a car comes along and blinds poor Mercury with its lights.” Despite his words, he was holding tight to her, and she didn’t want him to let go.

  She ran her hand over his shoulder and held tight to the muscles of his arm. “Denki for waiting. I thought maybe you gave up on me and rode off in the other direction.”

  “Mmm.” He grunted, turning away. “I would never do that. But I saw you talking with David and Ruben.”

  “We were talking, that’s all.” She watched as he unwrapped the reins and urged Mercury forward. Was he jealous? “You know I only have eyes for you.”

  “But you won’t let anyone else know about it,” he said. “When will you leave a singing with me, Emma? I’m tired of leaving in an empty buggy and meeting you down the road.”

  “Gabe … we’ve talked about this before.”

  “And we need to talk again. I started going to singings just to see you, but you spend most of the night talking with other fellas. It’s not right, Emma.”

  “But I can’t be rude to them.”

  “They wouldn’t be coming up to you if they knew about us. That’s the unspoken rule: You leave a fella’s girl alone. But since this is all a secret—you and me—half the young men in Halfway think they have a chance with you.”

  “But they don’t.” She looked over at him. In the darkness she was barely able to see the bold features that she always studied by the light of lanterns at each singing or youth event. “And you know how careful I have to be.”

  She had explained her position a dozen times.

  “It’s so very important for me to set a good example for my scholars,” she said. “An Amish teacher must teach with her whole life, and I have to take care to stay on the right path.” A proper teacher had to be well-grounded in her faith and in her community.

  “Oh, you’re a straight arrow,” Gabe said. “No one could argue with that. You’re about as straight as they come.”

  She folded her arms. “And how did I end up with a crooked arrow like you?”

  “I’m not so crooked,” he said. “Just a touch wild.”

  “That’s for sure,” Emma teased, though in truth she thought Gabe was probably just an average teenaged boy. Wild, but most people didn’t know what he was up to because they were looking the other way during rumspringa.

  But she had known Gabe a long time, and he’d always had a wild streak. Stubborn, too. Once, when they were very little, Emma had cried when they were playing market and Gabe refused to sell her his corn because his cows needed it.

  Then there was that raft he and his cousin Ben built to fish down the river. That became quite an adventure when the raft started to fall apart and slipped under the covered bridge.

  A few summers ago when Emma had been visiting Sadie on a hot summer day, all the King boys stripped down to their underwear before her eyes and jumped into the pond. Gabe’s mamm had corralled the girls into the side porch for cookies and lemonade—but mostly to get them out of sight of the boys. The girls had giggled and whispered, but the boys—they hadn’t even cared!

  After school Gabe had always tried to organize baseball games in the spring or hockey games in the winter. He played hard, but he worked hard, too. Sadie said that no one knew their milk cows quite as well as Gabe.

  That wildness made her heart catch.

  She didn’t want to admit it, but it was a part of Gabe that made her pulse race. If only he could strike a balance between wild excitement and obedient Amish—then he’d be the perfect beau.

  He called out to Mercury to head down the lane, then turned to catch her staring up at him. “What’s on your mind, Miss Straight Arrow?”

  “I’m just wondering how a straight arrow like me and a wild one like you ever got together.”

  “Mmm. But we are together. And I say if we’re courting, we should be able to spend some time together.” Gabe steered the buggy onto the side of the road by her house. “You’re a schoolteacher, Emma. Not an angel.”

  “I’d like to be both,” she said defiantly.

  He reached for her, his hands circling her waist as he pulled her close. “A tiny waist. A back with a spine and muscles and shoulders under a dark sweater.”

  She smiled as he recited her features, as if taking inventory.

  “No, Emma, you’re no angel. Just a flesh-and-blood girl.”

  “You’re right about that.” Her blood was warmed by the closeness of him. She held her breath as he moved close to kiss her. Such a wondrous thing, Gabe’s kiss! Like a starburst on her lips.

  She ended the kiss and pressed her cheek to his chest, the broadcloth of his jacket, his Sunday clothes, so familiar now. They’d been courting for so long now. Like Gabe, she longed to share the news that they were a couple with all their friends and families.

  Whenever they were close like this, she wondered why she worried so much about what others would think about their courtship. They were a wonderful good match.

  But when they were apart, the truth bothered her like a hangnail. Gabe’s family had been through so much, and now with his older brother marrying an Englisher and his sister off on rumspringa …

  Oh, why did she have to fall for a boy from a family that was causing the ministers so much worry?

  She didn’t like to think about it; she had been friends with Sadie, and it was not her place to judge another. But she knew Bishop Samuel was talking about taking measures against Sadie for leaving the community a second time to live among the Englishers.

  And then there was Adam King about to marry the Englisher girl. Adam and Remy had gotten approval from the church leaders. From what Emma had heard, if Remy was truly committed to becoming a baptized member and living the Amish life, the church would let Adam marry her.

  Church approval was a very good thing. But the situation was unusual. Most Seekers, English who wanted to try living Amish, didn’t last more than a few weeks, and very few took the time to learn the language and the laws of the community.

  Remy McCallister was a special girl. But the fact that an Englisher was marrying into the King family was an odd thing that would make them stand out for generations to come.

  A three-horned sheep.

  As much as people pretended that the three-horned sheep was no different, when you looked out to the pasture, there it was with three horns. And as Emma often told her young students, three did not equal two.

  PART TWO

  When Your Heart Aches

  A man’s heart deviseth his way:

  But the Lord directeth his steps.

  —PROVERBS 16:9

  ELEVEN

  I’ll take mine sunny-side up, just like the day,” Dat said the next morning when Annie asked him how he wanted his eggs.

  “It’s good to see the sunshine,” Lovina said. She handed a piece of biscuit to little Mark, who sat content in the high chair. “Will you be able to make hay today?”

  Dat nodded. “We need to do as much as we can this week, before Perry has to go.”

  Annie tousled one of the golden ringlets of Mark’s hair. She had missed tucking him in last night because of the singing. Normally it wouldn’t matter, but now Mark’s nights in the house were running out. There were but a handful of days until the departure on Friday.

  She leaned forward and pressed her cheek to his. “I’m going to miss you, little one.”

  She was rewarded by an applesa
uce hand on her nose. “Hey, that’s my nose!”

  The little boy grinned as she swung around to face him.

  “Where’s your nose?” she asked, and he pressed a finger to his button nose.

  “You’re delicious.” She planted a kiss on his forehead, then turned away toward the stove, feeling weepy. She still could not believe that the Fishers would be leaving on Friday. She cracked two eggs on the edge of the skillet and tended the sizzling edges.

  The morning air was chilly, but the sun was strong, and Annie seized the chance to get some clothes washed and hung. The family’s collie trotted over and stared suspiciously when she saw Annie fussing with the machine. The gas-powered washer made a clamor that frightened the dog.

  “I know it’s not wash day,” Annie told the dog, “but with all the rain we’ve been having, we’re falling behind.”

  Seeing that Annie meant business, Sunny nosed the screen door open and scuttled away.

  The clatter of the washing machine on the porch matched the noise of the men hammering on the roof. Dat said they were almost finished with the repairs. The beat reminded Annie of a tune they had sung at the singing last night. She sang aloud as she swept the porch, knowing no one would hear her over the din.

  The late-morning sun warmed through her prayer kapp as she shook out a dress and hung it with two clothespins. At the end of the line she paused to move her basket and glance up at the sky. Still no clouds. Wonderful good.

  Her gaze skimmed the roof of the farmhouse. A tall, handsome man hammering into the roof came into view.

  Adam …

  Her heart sank in regret. When was she going to stop pining for a man who was about to marry someone else?