A Groom for Greta. Anna Schmidt

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      And yet when she heard the snort of a horse and the soft plodding of hooves on the sandy road that ran past their house and on out to the countryside, Greta flew to the window. She could not help but hope that it would be Josef bringing his buggy to collect the two sisters for services as he had done ever since their father had died a year earlier. In that instant she played out the entire scene of how he would come to the door, hat in hand, eyes on the ground. And she would greet him as if nothing had passed between them the day before. The three of them would climb into his buggy and arrive at services as they had every other Sunday.

      But when she looked outside there was no buggy. Instead there was a wagon with a matched team of black Percheron horses and climbing down from the driver’s seat was none other than the blacksmith, Luke Starns.

      “What on earth?” Lydia had followed Greta to the window and was also watching Luke approach the house.

      “He’s come to drive us to services,” Greta said. “He offered,” she added with a shrug as Lydia’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

      “And you accepted this offer of a ride with a man we barely know?” Lydia asked, her voice the one she used when questioning a student.

      “Not right away,” Greta stammered. “I mean I thought about it and well, Josef is certainly not going to call for us.”

      There was a knock at the door. It was five minutes before eight o’clock. “I told him to come at eight,” Greta added.

      “Come drink your tea and eat something,” Lydia said with a resigned sigh. “I’ll get the door.”

      Theirs was a small house and Greta did not really have to eavesdrop to overhear the exchange between Lydia and the blacksmith. She nibbled at a slice of rye bread as her sister greeted Luke.

      “You are early, Luke Starns. My sister is just having her breakfast.”

      Greta frowned. “Oh, Liddy,” she whispered to herself. “Show the man a little kindness.”

      She heard Luke mumble an apology.

      “Well, come in out of the heat,” Lydia instructed.

      While Lydia marched down the hallway to the kitchen, Greta saw that Luke had remained uncertainly by the front door.

      “Liddy,” Greta hissed, “offer the man some juice.”

      “We do not have time for juice, Greta.” She took a cloth napkin and wiped a crumb from the corner of Greta’s mouth. “Now, come along or we’ll be late.”

      Outside, Lydia stood aside, making it clear that she expected Greta to climb up to the wagon’s only seat first. “It’s going to be another hot day,” Greta said, trying to ease the tension that hung over the trio as heavily as the humidity. “Even for August,” she added when they were all three seated.

      But it was apparent that she could not expect comments from either Lydia or Luke. Both of them were sitting as if someone had placed a board against their backs and they were each staring straight ahead, their mouths tightly set into thin lines. Clearly any attempt Greta might make to start a conversation was useless so she bowed her head and folded her hands in her lap. She might as well put the time to good use—praying that somehow she might get through this day.

      At Pleasant’s house, where services were to be held, Pleasant’s husband, Jeremiah, came forward to welcome them. If he thought it odd that they should arrive with Luke Starns, he gave no sign.

      “Is your great uncle inside, Jeremiah?” Lydia asked as he helped her down from the wagon. Jeremiah’s uncle was the head of their congregation.

      “Yes. Is there a problem? Has something happened?” He was clearly mystified that Lydia’s first comment would be to ask the whereabouts of the congregation’s bishop without so much as a greeting for him. Greta felt a touch of relief as she realized that at least Jeremiah seemed to have no idea at all that Josef had quit her.

      “Greta just needs to ask him a question,” Lydia replied with a smile. She waited for Jeremiah to help Greta down then turned to Luke. “Thank you, Luke Starns, for the ride. My sister and I will be staying to help Pleasant prepare the barn for tonight’s singing and can find our way home after that.”

      In spite of her own worries, Greta rolled her eyes heavenward as if seeking God’s help. No wonder Lydia had never had a serious beau. She treated every man she met as if he were one of her students. She saw that Luke had been about to say something to Lydia, then thought better of it.

      “Are you better?” Greta heard Luke murmur and realized that he was addressing her while Lydia was already halfway across the yard on her way to the large farmhouse.

      “I am perfectly fine, Luke.” She offered him a tight smile. “And having kept my end of our bargain I trust that...”

      “I’m not given to gossip, Greta, but you should prepare yourself because soon enough...”

      “Greta.” Lydia was expert at delivering an entire lecture with a single word. In two syllables she had effectively reminded Greta that it was the Sabbath, that they were to turn their hearts and minds to God and that the bishop was no doubt awaiting her arrival.

      As the two sisters walked toward the house, Greta glanced back over her shoulder toward the barn where Luke was now unhitching the horses while Jeremiah greeted more neighbors. Luke was right, of course. It hardly mattered what he might have said to Roger Hadwell. By the end of today’s service everyone would know.

      “Let’s get this over with,” she said as she and Lydia reached the front door of Pleasant’s home.

      Inside the modest white frame house, the backless wooden benches, transported from house to house for the biweekly services, had been set up in the two large front rooms that were a feature of every Amish home. From down the hall that led to the kitchen, Greta could hear the voices of those women and girls who had already arrived. They would gather there to deliver their contributions for the light meal that would follow the three-hour service. She and Lydia were each carrying a basket that held their contributions for the meal. It was a comfort to realize that the women all seemed to be talking in a normal tone, not whispering as she might have expected.

      Pleasant rushed forward to greet them.

      “Could you take these?” Lydia asked, handing Pleasant her basket. “Greta needs to speak with Bishop Troyer.”

      “Of course,” Pleasant replied, taking Greta’s basket, as well. “Something to do with a certain announcement to be made today?” she asked and she actually winked.

      Greta forced a smile as Lydia took her arm. “We won’t be long,” she assured Pleasant.

      “Maybe it would be better if we just told everyone now,” Greta murmured. “At least then it would be out in the open.” On the other hand, there was still time for Josef to find her, tell her he’d been wrong, beg her forgiveness.

      They passed through the front hall separating the rooms where services would be held. They dodged a group of small children racing up the stairs. The younger men and boys tended to linger outside until others took their places СКАЧАТЬ