Anna's Gift (14 page)

Beside her, little Mae giggled and opened her mouth. “Taste good,” she said.

“Do they?” Anna asked. She tilted her head back and mimicked the child. And soon Samuel was doing the same. Laughing, they bounced and slid over the deep snow, and Anna marveled at how fast they covered the distance. Eventually, Mae wiggled off her father's lap and into Anna's. She was warm and soft, and Anna felt a
surge of love fill her. Maybe her grandmother was right, she thought. Maybe God did have a plan for her. And maybe, if she was lucky, Samuel would be part of it.

He leaned close. “So you admit that I'm courting you? That if we suit each other you'd be willing to become my wife?”

“I'm thinking on it.”

Samuel laughed again, and the sound of his big, booming voice was like music to her ears. “You are a stubborn woman,” he pronounced.

“Ne,”
she answered. “My Aunt Martha is a stubborn woman. Something tells me that she won't be happy to see us together.”

Samuel nodded. “You're right, but who better to let know our secret. By tomorrow morning, snowstorm or no snowstorm, every family in the county will know that we're walking out together.” Snowflakes lodged in his beard, and Anna reached up and brushed them away.

“Was that so hard?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“What?” She was suddenly shy. This wasn't happening to her, couldn't be. What had she done to deserve such a beau?

“To touch me, Anna? To smile at me? You don't know how many nights I've lain awake wondering what was wrong with me, wondering why you didn't want me.” He draped a big arm around her shoulders and pulled her and Mae closer to him. “I love you, Anna. You may not believe it, but I do.” He leaned even closer, and before she knew it, Samuel's lips brushed hers.

Anna's heart skipped and hammered against her ribs. For long seconds the snowy landscape, the sled, the horse, everything, vanished. There was nothing but the sweet sensation of Samuel's kiss. And then she realized where she was and what she'd just permitted. She pulled
away just as horse and sleigh broke out of the woods' lane and into Aunt Martha's yard.

Dorcas, carrying two buckets of water to the barn, stopped gape-mouthed and stared, so surprised that she dropped her buckets. “Anna?”

Aunt Martha came out of the chicken house with a basket of eggs. She wore a denim coat of Uncle Reuben's, men's high rubber boots and a blue wool scarf over her head. “Whatever are you doing in that contraption?” Aunt Martha cried. “On a Sabbath. With Samuel Mast?” she demanded. “Reuben! Reuben! Come see this.”

“Good day, Martha, Dorcas,” Samuel called, merrily. “Just checking to see that you have everything you need. What with the snow and the roads blocked.”

“You have Anna alone in that sleigh? With bells?”

Samuel shook his head. “The bells are on Smoky, Martha. No bells on Anna. Her mother wouldn't approve.”

Anna saw Dorcas standing behind her mother, break into a grin.

“Don't worry. We have Mae with us.”

Her aunt huffed. “A child? Hardly a proper chaperone.” She glanced around and shouted again. “Reuben!”

“Certain you have everything you need?” Samuel asked.

“This is not right. Not proper,” Aunt Martha declared.

“Then we'll be off,” Samuel called with a wave. “Lots of families to visit.”

“See you at church next week,” Anna called, mischievously. And then they were off again, flying over the ground, charging through the snowy fields on a thrilling and heart-pounding ride.

T
he snow didn't last. The following week, a warm front moved across the state, and heavy rains washed away the accumulation of snow. Samuel's beautiful sleigh was stored in his carriage shed, covered with a tarp, to wait for another day when travel by buggy was impossible. Anna's ride with Samuel had caused quite a flutter in the community, but her mother and sisters were more than ready to support her.

“I told Lydia that Samuel couldn't find a better wife if he searched every Amish community in the county,” Mam told Ruth one afternoon.

Ruth's Eli had been working late at the chair shop, so she'd walked across the field to visit with the family. She'd brought Grossmama some lovely strips of blue wool for the rug she was working on.

It was Thursday, and Mam had a school board meeting at seven, at Roman's house, so they'd planned an early supper. “It's time Anna had a little fun. Who deserves it more?”

Anna busied herself at the sink, carefully washing the battered copper pot that Grossmama had brought with her from Ohio. The pot, called a kettle, had been pur
chased in Philadelphia as a gift for a bride, long before Pennsylvania became one of the original thirteen colonies. It was her grandmother's most cherished possession, handed down through the family for generations.

“That kettle goes to Anna when I die,” Grossmama said. “Martha will kick up a fuss, but she's not to have it. Martha couldn't make peach jam without burning it, to save her soul, and she doesn't deserve it.”

“Now, sister,” Aunt Jezebel interjected. “You're too hard on Martha.”

“Martha's too hard on me. Like to killed me, getting born. I was in labor with her for three days. It's a wonder either of us lived.” Lovina was seated in the big rocking chair near the stove, where she'd supervised the making of a batch of apple butter. “Is the van here yet? I'm waiting for the van to take me to the center.”

Grossmama had been asking all day about the van that would take her to Maple Leaf.

“Couldn't we arrange for her to go to the center just once?” Anna quietly asked her mother, when Hannah had brought her a clean towel to dry the kettle. “She seems set on going.”

Mam sighed. “Maple Leaf is for the English. Plain People don't go there. We provide for our older family members in our homes. We don't need the help of strangers to do what's right.”

“But what harm could it do if she wants to go?” Anna persisted.

Her mother shook her head. “Bishop Atlee wouldn't allow it. It wouldn't look right.”

Ruth joined them. “We are a people apart from the world, Anna.”

“But why is it wrong for Grossmama to spend time with the English, if it would be good for her?”

“We must live by the Ordnung,” her mother said. “Sometimes it's hard, but our faith has sustained us through trial and hardship. We can't question the ways that have kept us on God's path.”

“But what if Bishop Atlee agreed?” Anna dried the kettle with the dishtowel. “If he approved, would you let her go?”

“He won't,” Ruth said. “No Amish have ever gone to Maple Leaf. I know, because my friend Flo works there in the kitchen.”

“Is it a nice place?” Anna asked. “Do the Englishers treat the older people kindly?”

“Ya.”
Ruth nodded. “Flo says that everyone there is nice. Sometimes she helps with serving the lunch and cleaning the craft room.”

“I was thinking,” Anna began, and Mam laughed.

“What?” Anna asked.

“You've obviously been thinking hard about a lot of things. Samuel included.”

“Ah, Samuel,” Ruth teased. “How long are you going to keep him dangling?”

“She told Samuel that she'd give him an answer by her birthday,” Mam said.

Ruth looked unconvinced. “But you should know by now whether you want him or not.”

Mam chuckled. “And you didn't keep poor Eli dangling?”

“That was different,” Ruth said. “I had to be certain that he was committed to the faith. I knew how I felt about him, but I could never have married anyone who wasn't as dedicated as I was. And Anna doesn't have that concern. She and Samuel both joined the church years ago.”

“I'm just not sure,” Anna said. “I care for Samuel, but
I don't know if we're right for each other. If it's really God's plan for us.”

“Because of those kids?” Ruth asked. “They'd be a handful, especially the boys.”

“Ne.”
Anna shook her head. “It would be easy to love them all. I think I do already. It's Samuel that troubles me. And me.” She shrugged. “Look at me. Do I look like I belong with Samuel Mast?”

Her mother folded her arms and looked stern. “See how it is, Ruth? Your sister doesn't see herself as we see her—as beautiful and kind and strong. And as long as she can't love herself, she's not ready to accept the love of a man.”

Anna swallowed. “You don't understand. You're my family. I know you love me. But maybe that love blinds you to who I really am?” Hanging her apron on the hook, she hurried out of the room and upstairs. Not even her mother or her sisters understood what it was like to be born ugly in a family of pretty faces. No one understood.

She hadn't even gotten to tell them about her idea for her grandmother. Next week, a truck would be bringing the rest of Aunt Jezzy and Grossmama's things. Her aunt had told her that Lovina had stacks of braided rugs that she'd made over the years. What Anna had thought was, that perhaps their sister Johanna could see if the English shops that sold her quilts would be interested in selling Grossmama's rugs. If they could sell some or all, Grossmama would have money of her own, and perhaps her mind would be at ease.

Upstairs in her room, Anna pulled her rocking chair to the window where she could catch the last of the daylight, and removed a new, pale green dress from her sewing basket. As she hemmed the dress, the tension seeped out of her shoulders and neck, and she began to softly hum
an old hymn. She always felt better when her hands were busy and she felt useful.

The last time Naomi had been here, Anna had her try the dress on her, so it could be hemmed to the proper length. Samuel's sisters in Ohio kept the children in clothes, but the style wasn't always what the other children at school were wearing, and Naomi was at the age where she didn't want to look different. Anna could understand that perfectly. Surely, it wasn't vanity for Naomi to want her
kapps
and dresses to be like those of her friends. And Anna decided that she would ask Samuel when Naomi had last had her eyes checked. She spent a lot of time with her nose in a book, and it seemed to Anna that she was starting to squint. Maybe she needed a new prescription.

As Anna knotted the thread and put the last few stitches in the hem, Rudy's taunts rose in her mind, and again her stomach knotted. She would have to find a way to win over Samuel's twins, or there was no question of the two of them marrying. As Mam had said, she'd promised him an answer by her birthday, and that was only three weeks away. What if she was as undecided then as now? Would she have to refuse him? Better to say no than to say yes, and spend a lifetime doubting her choice.

“Anna?” Mam pushed open the bedroom door. “Are you sewing? Why didn't you light a lamp? You'll go blind.”

She smiled at her mother. “
Ne,
Mam, I'll not go blind. You worry too much.”

Mam came to sit on the edge of the bed near her. “I'm sorry if you felt pressured about Samuel. You know we all have your best interests at heart. We want you to be happy.”

Anna smoothed the wrinkles from the small, neat dress. “You want me to marry him.”

Mam shook her head. “Not if you don't want to.”

Anna replaced her needle in its case, and tucked the spool of thread into the basket beside the
kapp
and apron she'd finished on Tuesday. The
kapp
would need starching and ironing, but the outfit would be ready for Naomi to wear at next Sunday's services. “I'm sorry if I upset everyone,” she said. “But I have to decide for myself.”

“Ya,”
Mam agreed. “You do. I know a little how you feel. When I chose your father, it was against my family's wishes. My father especially felt betrayed.”

“Because you fell in love with Dat?”

Mam steepled her hands and tapped her chin gently with her fingertips. “Because, in marrying him, I chose the Old Order Amish faith over the one I was raised in.”

“But you weren't turning your back on God.”

“
Ne,
but my parents felt I was turning my back on the world.”

“Have you ever been sorry?”

Her mother smiled, and Anna thought again how beautiful she was. “Not for a moment. It wasn't giving up life, so much as embracing it. Our way is a special blessing, and I thank God every day that this was the path He chose for me.”

“You really believe that? That our Lord wanted you and Dat to marry?”

“With all my heart.”

Anna sighed. “That's beautiful, Mam. It's what I want. To love someone like that. To have him love me. And to never wonder if I made the right decision.”

“It's what you deserve.” Mam rose and picked up Naomi's dress. “This is good work, Anna. And you've put in a deep hem. She'll start to shoot up soon. I think she
will be slim like her mother, but tall like the women in her father's family. A sweet girl, Naomi. With a bright mind. She may make a teacher some day.”

“I think she'd like that.”

“It's good of you to take an interest in her. She's been a long time without a mother's care.”

“So I told Samuel. Sometimes I think Naomi has had to grow up too quickly. She needs to be a child for a few years yet.”

“It sounds to me as if you have a mother's interest in Samuel's girls.”

“
Ya,
but I worry about the twins,” Anna admitted. “It's clear that they don't want me to marry their father.”

Mam folded Naomi's dress and laid it on the bed. “They are children still, Anna. Sometimes you have to be tough.”

“You never had any boys, Mam.”

“Ne?”
Her mother smiled. “I had brothers. And now we have Irwin. I think he has become my son, even if he was delivered a little late in life.”

“Peter and Rudy don't want a new mother, and they don't want to share their father with a wife.” She wouldn't tell Mam about the hurtful things the twins had said to her. That was her problem.

“Eleven-year-old boys can be difficult, but you'll work it out. I have faith in you.”

More than I do,
Anna thought.

“Do you want to go with me to the school board meeting? Samuel's coming to pick me up, so that I don't have to drive. We'll be planning the winter picnic, and we could use your ideas.”

Anna shook her head. “It's not my place, Mam.” She could guess what Mam was about. Her mother wanted to throw her and Samuel together. Anna hadn't seen him
since their thrilling sleigh ride last Sunday, and the impulsive promise she'd made to allow him to court her seemed scary. She needed more time to think. “You go. I'll see to the house and pack your lunch for tomorrow.”

Her mother turned toward the door. “Very well.” Anna heard her sigh. “Sometimes you remind me so much of your father. It always took him forever to make up his mind about the least thing.”

“And once he had?”

Mam chuckled. “And once he had, there was no wavering. Jonas would stand by his decision until fish grew in our garden and the hens laid cabbages.”

 

Samuel had to pass the chair shop on his way to Hannah's farm, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to stop and chat with Roman before the others arrived. As satisfying as Sunday's sleigh ride had been, and as pleased as he was about Anna finally agreeing to the courtship, he was still worried. Her birthday was fast approaching, and he was growing impatient. What if she refused him? They were the talk of the community this week, and if she wouldn't have him, he'd be an object of jest for years to come.

He could protest that he didn't care what anyone thought, but he did. He valued the judgment of his friends and neighbors, and he wanted them to be supportive. He hoped he didn't look like a fool. He knew his sons weren't happy about his courting Anna, but he wasn't certain they would have welcomed any woman as their stepmother. He was afraid that he'd spoiled them.

Finding the fine line between being a responsible father and a doting one wasn't easy, and he'd found that each of his children was different. What worked with Lori Ann was exactly the wrong thing for Naomi or Mae.
Even the twins had their own separate personalities. Peter tended to follow Rudy's lead; yet, left to his own devices, he could show more maturity than his brother. Samuel had always believed that when the children were older, it would be easier to be a father, but that wasn't so. He needed a partner more than ever, a woman to talk to and confide in. Anna was his first choice; but if he couldn't have her, he'd have to make the effort to find someone else…perhaps someone older and more settled.

He tied his horse to the hitching rail and went into the shop. Roman had brought in kerosene heaters and placed gas lamps on the oval table for the meeting. The shop had electricity, but there was no need for it tonight. Fannie had made heaps of
fastnachts,
a fried donut with nutmeg, and Roman had a kettle of sweet cider heating. In the shop, the board could talk as long and late as they pleased, without disrupting Fannie's routine of getting her children ready for bed.

Roman looked up from his ledger and smiled as Samuel entered the room. “Where's Hannah? I thought you were bringing her tonight?”

“I am, shortly. Just wanted to be sure you had those receipts I sent Peter over with last week.”