An Amish Courtship. Jan Drexler

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СКАЧАТЬ to see Esther watching her. Samuel’s sister had heard every word of their conversation.

      “Esther...” Mary stepped across the kitchen and took her arm. “I hope you weren’t offended by what Sarah said.”

      Esther plucked at her apron. “Ne. It’s true.” She looked at Mary, her narrow chin set firm. “But what you said is true, too. Samuel isn’t Daed, and he can change.” She glanced at the kitchen door, where Samuel had disappeared. “I just hope more folks come to see that.”

      * * *

      Samuel Lapp charged out of the Stutzmans’ house, ignoring everyone he passed. He’d hitch up the mare, find his sisters and head for home. He was a fool to think this morning would be different than any other Sabbath morning that he had attended the meeting.

      His steps slowed. When was the last time he had come to the Sabbath meeting? A month ago? Two months? When he reached the pasture gate, he leaned on the post. Several of the horses started walking toward him, but his mare stood next to the water trough, ignoring him and the other horses.

      A bay gelding stopped a pace away from him and extended his nose slightly.

      “I have no carrots for you.” Samuel spoke softly. Whose horse was this one? He eyed the sleek neck and the muscled haunches. Someone who knew horses and took good care of them.

      The words of the men around the dinner table washed over him again. Even two years after his father’s death, the Lapp legacy followed him no matter what he did. No matter how much he wanted to change.

      He bent his head down to meet his fist, quelling the sick feeling in his stomach. Why should he even try? Men like Martin Troyer would never let him forget whose son he was. Samuel squeezed his eyes closed, seeing Martin’s pompous figure at the end of the table once more.

      Then the minister’s words echoed over Martin’s mocking tone. Jonas Weaver had said he believed him. He expected him to show up to help with Vernon Hershberger’s farm work. The minister’s confidence made Samuel want to follow through with his promise.

      But Daed had burned too many bridges with his habit of promising help that he never delivered, and he was guilty of the same thing.

      His father had lived on the edge of being shunned and put under the bann. How many times had the deacons stopped by the farm to talk to Daed? To reprimand him? And then he would promise to do better. He’d take the family to meeting for a month, maybe two. He’d promise to join in the community activities. He’d promise to stop the drinking...but then forget his promises.

      Samuel rubbed his hands over his face. Could he face Martin again? Not when this slow burn continued in his stomach. The world was full of Martin Troyers who would never let him come out from under Daed’s shadow.

      He leaned on the fence, watching the horses. They had lost interest in him and had gone back to cropping the grass.

      When Bram had returned home after living in Chicago for twelve years, he had been able to avoid Daed’s legacy. His older brother had escaped the shame of the remarks and pitying looks and Samuel envied him.

      The envy was worse than the shame.

      When people spoke of Bram, respect echoed in their words. Respect Samuel had never heard when people spoke of their daed...or him.

      As much as Samuel wanted to prove to the community that he wasn’t the same man as his father, he had fallen short. Nothing he said made any difference. They treated him the same way they always had, as if a man could never change.

      That girl with the brown eyes, Mary, was different, though. New in the community, she knew nothing about his past. Nothing to make her judge him. Perhaps if he could do something to earn her respect, the rest of the community would follow.

      Samuel rubbed at his beard, remembering how Mary Hochstetter had stood up to him before church. If he could earn her respect, he wouldn’t care about anyone else’s opinion.

      He picked at a loose sliver of wood on the fence post. It broke off and he stuck it in his mouth to use as a toothpick.

      “Samuel?”

      The woman’s voice came from behind him. Unfamiliar. It wasn’t Judith or Esther.

      “Samuel Lapp? Is that you?”

      He straightened and turned, facing this new challenge. But when he saw Mary Hochstetter standing next to the wheel of the last buggy in line, watching him, he felt his tense face relax into a smile.

      “Ja, it’s me.”

      She twisted her fingers together.

      “When we met this morning, I was very impolite.”

      “Forget it.” The words came out rough, and he cleared his throat.

      She ran her hand along the wooden buggy wheel, brushing off a layer of dust. “I let myself form an opinion of you without learning to know you first. Sadie says I should be careful not to judge a book by its cover.”

      She smiled then, still watching the dust drift from the buggy wheel into the air. His heart wrenched at the soft curve of her lips.

      “I wasn’t very polite, myself.”

      “You were fine. I mean, you didn’t do anything—” Her face flushed a pretty pink. “I mean, you were friendly.” Her face grew even redder. “Except for...when you winked... I mean, I’m sure you didn’t mean to be forward.” She bit her lip and turned away.

      Samuel resisted the urge to step close to her, to cover her embarrassment with a hand on her arm. “I think I know what you mean.”

      “I heard what you said in there.” She tilted her head toward the house in a quick nod. “I think it is wonderful-gut that you want to help with that poor farmer’s work. In Ohio, the community always works together when one family is having trouble.”

      He felt a flush rise in his cheeks at her words of praise. “We do that here, too.” He couldn’t look at her face. If she had heard what he said, then she had also heard the derisive remarks from the other men.

      “That’s good.”

      Samuel dared to raise his eyes, but she was fingering the buggy wheel again. As another little cloud of dust drifted to the ground, she glanced at him and smiled. “I must go help wash the dishes.”

      Mary walked back toward the house, turning once when she reached the center of the yard to give him a final glance. Samuel raised his hand in answer and leaned against the fence post behind him. She opened the screen door and entered the covered porch, disappearing from his view.

      Samuel scratched his beard, running his fingers through its short length. Sometime after Bram had come back last year he had stopped shaving. A clean chin had been a sign of his single status, but last fall he had stopped caring. Stopped thinking that what he looked like mattered to anyone.

      But now, his insides warm from Mary’s kind words, he suddenly cared what she thought about him and his farm. Maybe he could earn her respect. Maybe he could hope to move out from under Daed’s shadow and become a member of the community the way Bram was.

      He СКАЧАТЬ