Their Pretend Amish Courtship. Patricia Davids

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      “They will foal without you, and your father can certainly handle it.”

      She walked to her mare standing patiently beside the corral. “Trinket will miss me. I can’t go months without seeing her.”

      Fannie loved horses, he knew that, but he sensed she wasn’t telling him the whole story behind this scheme. “Trinket will survive without you. What’s the real reason you don’t want to go?”

      She sighed heavily and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “You may have heard I took a job working for Connie Stroud on her horse farm.”

      “Mamm mentioned it.” His mother kept up on all the local news. How she was able to learn so much about the community without the use of a forbidden telephone was a mystery to him.

      “Connie raises and trains Haflingers. Trinket was one of her foals. Connie’s father passed away two years ago and she is having a hard time making a go of the place. She gives riding lessons and boards horses, but she needs to sell more of her Haflingers for a better price than she can get around here if she is going to make ends meet.”

      “If she can’t sell a horse without you in the state, she’s a poor businesswoman.”

      He walked over to two more horses tied to the fence. One was his niece Hannah’s black pony, Hank. The other was Ginger, a bay mare that belonged to his mother. Speaking softly to Hank, Noah ran his hand down the pony’s neck and lifted his front foot. He found the shoe was loose and too worn to save. He checked the pony’s back foot, expecting to find it in the same condition.

      Fannie walked over to Hank and began to rub him behind his ears. The pony closed his eyes in bliss and leaned into her fingers. “I’m deeply beholden to Connie. I need to help her save her stable.”

      Noah glanced at Fannie’s face and was surprised by the determination in her eyes. Fannie might be hotheaded and stubbornly independent, but she was clearly loyal to this friend. “How does pretending to be engaged help her?”

      “It keeps me here. Not a lot of people know what amazing horses Haflingers are. I came up with the great idea of an equine drill team using Connie’s Haflingers plus my Trinket. We are going to give exhibitions at some of the county fairs and then at the Ohio State Equine Expo. I have seven Amish girls from my riding club who have already joined us.”

      “Your parents are permitting this?” It was an unusual undertaking for an Amish woman.

      She looked away from him. “We haven’t been told we can’t do it. You know how crazy the Englisch are for anything Amish. If we can generate some interest, show what Connie’s horses can do, I know it will help her sell more of them. Besides, everyone in the group is depending on me to teach them—and the horses—the routines. Our first show is in a week.”

      Fannie had a way with horses that was unique. He’d always admired that about her. “I’m sure your parents will come around if you make them see how much you want to stay.”

      “Mamm won’t. She has her mind made up. She says Betsy is more help to her than I am because I’m always out in the barn. Betsy likes to cook, sew, mend and clean, while I don’t. I’ll die down there if I have to give up my horse.” Fannie sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

      Noah put Hank’s hoof down to stare at Fannie. He considered putting his arm around her shoulders to comfort her, but thought better of it. “Would it help if I talked to your folks?”

      “Nee, it won’t do any good. Mamm will know I put you up to it.”

      “I’m sorry, Fannie, but don’t you think your idea is a bit dishonest?”

      She shook her head. “If you ask to court me today, actually ask me, then it won’t be a lie. I can tell Mamm we are walking out with a straight face and a clear conscience.”

      “I don’t see how, when you concocted the whole thing.”

      “You have to help me, Noah. I don’t know what else to do. Betsy would love to spend a few months with our grandparents and see the ocean. You don’t have to tell anyone you are dating me. All you have to do is take me home after the singing on Sunday and I’ll do the rest. Please?”

      Why did she have to sound so desperate?

      * * *

      Fannie wasn’t making enough headway in swaying Noah. She took a deep breath and pulled out her last tool of persuasion. “What are your plans for this summer?”

      He looked suspicious at her abrupt change of topic. “We are putting up hay this week. We’ll start cultivating the corn after that if the rain holds off.”

      “I didn’t mean farmwork. Are you playing ball again this summer?” She flicked the brim of the blue ball cap he wore instead of the traditional Amish straw hat. Once he chose baptism, he would have to give up his worldly dress.

      He ducked away from her hand. “I’m in the league again with the fellas from the fire department. I’m their pitcher. If we keep winning like we have been, we have a shot at getting into the state invitational tournament.”

      She twined her fingers in Hank’s mane. “You must practice a lot.”

      “Twice a week with games every Saturday. In fact, we have a makeup game tonight with the Berlin team, as we were rained out last weekend.”

      “You wouldn’t mind missing a few of your practices or even a game for a family picnic or party, would you?”

      “What are you getting at, Fannie?”

      “I’m not the only one you’ll be helping if you go out with me. Your mother has been shopping around for a wife for you. Did you know that?”

      His expression hardened. “You’re narrisch. Up until this minute I was starting to feel sorry for you.”

      She almost wavered, but she couldn’t let Connie down. “I’m not crazy. With all your brothers married, you are the last chick in the nest.”

      “So?”

      “So she’s worried that you are still running around instead of settling down. She has asked a number of her friends to invite their nieces and granddaughters to visit this summer with the express notion of finding you a wife among them. They’ll be here for picnics and dinners and singings all summer long, so you can size them up.”

      “Mamm wouldn’t do that.” Amish parents rarely meddled in their children’s courtships.

      “Well, she has.”

      “My mother isn’t the meddling sort. At least, not very often.”

      Fannie shrugged. “Mothers are funny that way. They don’t believe we can be happy unless we are married, when you and I both know we are perfectly happy being single. Are you ready to spend the summer dodging a string of desperate-to-be-wed maidens?”

      “Nee, and that includes you and your far-fetched scheme. No one will believe I’m dating you of my own free will.”

      She felt the heat rush to her face. “You kissed me once.”

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