LITTLE WILD FLOWER
Book One
WRITTEN BY
Samantha Jillian Bayarr
Copyright © 2001 by Samantha Jillian Bayarr
Smashwords Edition
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This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and are therefore used fictitiously. Any similarity or resemblance to actual persons; living or dead, places or events is purely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publisher.
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All scripture references in this book used from New International Version of the Bible
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Also by Samantha Jillian Bayarr
LWF Series for Women
Little Wild Flower Book II
The Taming of a Wild Flower
Little Wild Flower Prequel
General Fiction
The Apothecary
The Darkroom
Romance Novella Collection
Milk Maid in Heaven
A Secret in the Attic
The Anniversary
The Fountain of Youth
Young Adult Fiction
Raven Finch and the Curse of the Dead Woods
Raven Finch and the Curse of Mooreloc’s Crystal
The Olivia Madison Journals
Olivia Plus Bug Juice Equals Trouble
Stephanie Goes on Strike
Ashley’s Worst Nightmare
April Showers Bring Mud
Anna’s Tree House
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ONE…......A Time to Grow
TWO…......A Time to Learn
THREE….A Time to Mature
FOUR.….A Time of Testing
FIVE….….A Time to Court
SIX……..A Time to Prepare
SEVEN……A Time to Wed
EIGHT…….A Time to Wait
NINE……....A Time to Nest
TEN…….….A Time to Love
LITTLE WILD FLOWER
Book Two
Sneak Peek
ONE…......As Time goes by
PROLOGUE
Jane Abigail Reeves was in denial. At least that’s how her older sister Nadine described her. Raised as a city girl in a dysfunctional, middle-class family, Jane found it impossible to recognize what normal was anymore. In 1977, her father purchased a farm in the heart of a rural Amish community in Indiana when Jane was only fifteen. Jane and her siblings had not been brought up Plain, but their father had used the move as a means to start a new life. He made it out to be a grand adventure for his family to live off the land, “Like the Amish do,” he had said so many years ago.
Jane knew the real reason her father wanted to move the family away from the city. Part was out of a need to save her mother from ridicule and judgment from unforgiving friends and family who couldn’t see past her condition or accept her recovery from alcoholism. The other part, she knew, was her father’s way of giving in to her mother’s unquenchable desire to run from her past mistakes with the hope of putting them behind her.
For nearly three months, her mother had spent time attending counseling programs, which included a six-week stay in an alcohol rehabilitation clinic, until finally, one unforgettable day; she had managed to come home to her family. Soon after her mother returned home from the clinic, Jack Reeves made an announcement he would move his newly pregnant wife, Anna Mae, and their seven children, including Jane, from a large city in Michigan. The move to the Amish community was almost unbearable for Jane at the time. She didn’t believe living out in the country, with horse-driven buggies, was something she felt she could ever accept.
In her stubbornness, Jane sat in her strange, new bedroom full of anger and resentment for the first two months after the move. She missed nearly her entire first summer at the new farmhouse, and even missed out on making friends the way her siblings had. Her older sister, Nadine, had tried on several occasions to coax her out of her room. She, too, wanted to have something better to do than hang around the warm house all summer, but Jane was too determined to brood. She’d been forced to leave her friends and modern conveniences back at her childhood home, all for the sake of a mother whom she wasn’t immediately open to forgiving at the time.
The Reeves family adapted quickly to their new environment, save Jane, who rebelled against everything from having to use an outhouse, to staring at a blank television in a house with no electricity. The changes, however, that her family went through became easier, and had also brought about their new way of life as they settled into their new farmhouse in the Amish community.
If the truth be told, Jane in fact loved the openness of the country, and admired the Plain lifestyle of the Amish folk that surrounded their farm. And though she initially rebelled, she knew her mother’s plans for recovery depended on a simpler way of life. After all, Jane’s entire life up until about six months prior to the move had been full of cruel treatment that she had suffered at the hands of her then-alcoholic mother. Prompted by her childhood friend, Bradley, whom she dearly missed, Jane built up enough courage to get her mother the help she needed. Directly after the move, she had some regrets over the decision, but when she saw how much it meant to her mother and the rest of her family, she felt guilty for being so selfish.
In spite of all that had happened, Jane and her mother became very close during that unsure period in their lives. While her thoughts remained with those early days in their farmhouse, a warm peace settled in Jane’s heart.
Oh, how happy I was then. In spite of all my protestin’ and anger about movin’ here and missin’ my friends back home, I’ve loved it from the very beginning. As a matter of fact, from the very first day I sat on the porch swing of our new house…
ONE
A TIME TO GROW
Little Rachel Zook was the first of our new neighbors to make her acquaintance with me. The Zook’s best milking cow, Ida, had gotten loose one early autumn day, finding its way to the next farm over—ours. I was too determined to brood to pay her any mind, or to be bothered by what was going on around me. And in my quest to shut out the world, an entire herd of cows might have been able to walk right by me unnoticed. We’d been here for over two months already, but this was the first time I’d been outside of the house.
I sprawled lazily across the wooden porch swing, daydreaming of how much better my life would be if I’d never suggested to my father that my mother needed a change of scenery. Though moving to an Amish community was not what I had in mind, I had to admit my mother had seemed much happier since the move. I, on the other hand, was miserably lonely without my friends to see me through. I’d gotten a few letters from friends I knew from school, but since I never wrote them back, they gave up. I didn’t see any point in keeping in touch by mail, since I knew I’d never have another conversation with them. With no phone, I felt cut off from everyone, and that was how it would stay.
I pushed the swing lazily with one foot, while the rhythmic squeaking of the old, rusty chain that suspended the swing had nearly lulled me to sleep. I let one arm dangle across the slats of the porch; the other neatly tucked under my head for comfort. Mindlessly twisting my long, blonde hair between my fingers, I gave in to thoughts of self-pity.
Startled by movement from across the long- stretched yard, I squinted my blue eyes against the afternoon sun. Taking in a deep breath, I could almost taste the ripe apples from the small orchard that stood between the two properties. When I finally looked in the direction of the commotion, I spotted a young girl working her way around the unkempt fence that established the property line separating us from our neighbors. I came to a sudden halt from my gentle swinging and sat upright to get a better look at the curly-haired tot as she struggled with the broken, whitewashed fence. Her clothing was just as my father had described to me just weeks before our move. A sudden shift of the wind tipped her bonnet off her head to reveal dark, blonde curls. Her apron fluttered around in the breeze, causing her agitation as she tried to free the hem of her long dress from the fence. I held a hand over my mouth to cover up my laughter. As she walked bashfully toward me, I straightened up, burying my amusement over her struggle with the fence. My efforts were in vain, however, for she introduced herself with downcast eyes.
“I’m Rachel Zook, and our milking cow got loose.”
She spoke with the same German accent I’d remembered from the man who talked with my parents regarding the sale of our farm. It had seemed like a lifetime before, but had only been a few weeks ago that I’d sat at the top of the stairs and watched my father converse with the strange, bearded man. His wife had spent many a day with my mother, sharing Amish recipes and folklore. While I had enjoyed the wonderful food they prepared together, I had carefully avoided contact with all of the neighbors—up until now.
Rachel adjusted her bonnet to sit squarely on her head, and then continued to speak.
“Could ya help me look for the cow? I think it came over this way, jah?”
Her eyes looked up slightly, enough for me to see a slight hint of mischief in them.
Though I was immediately intrigued by this small stranger, I pursed my lips and sighed heavily, determined that no one would interrupt my right to sit on the porch swing and brood.
“I saw a cow go that way.” I lied. But I pointed in the direction of the field behind our farm hoping she would go away.
“Will ya show me, please?” the little girl begged.
“Can’t ya ask somebody else?” I’m only out here because my mother said I was beginning to resemble a vampire in need of fresh air.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother ya, but you’re the only one out here.”
She pushed out her lower lip as she cast her eyes toward the ground.
“Now you're actin’ just like my little sisters. I’ll help ya look for the cow—as long as ya quit lookin’ at me like that.”
She flashed me a brief smile. “Are you Lucy’s sister?”
“Yep, that’s what they tell me. I’m Jane. And I’m guessin’ that if ya know my sister, then ya must be around her age.”
I stepped off the porch and stuffed my hands into the back pockets of my cut-off jeans, intending to help her look for the cow.
“I’m five years and eleven months to be exact. I’ll be going to the schoolhouse in September, Miss Jane.”
“Why in the world did ya call me ‘Miss’? I already told ya my name is Jane—just Jane.”
“I must say it that way because my papa says it’s gut and proper-like.”
“I hope ya don’t expect me to call ya Miss Rachel.” She shook her head as I was talking.
“You would only call me “Miss” if I was older than you; that’s what my papa says.”
I didn’t completely understand, but I let the matter drop—mostly because I didn’t really care.
“My father said we’re gonna have to go to your little school house because our old school is too far away. In another state—to be exact,” I mocked her. “B’sides, he don’t want us goin’ to public school no more. ‘Says it’s not a good place for us to learn our values.”
“So you’ll be converting?” she asked.
I scrunched up my face. “Converting to what?”
“The Amish ways,” she said gently.
“No way! We’re just goin’ to school with ya. I don’t think this Amish stuff is cool at all—only my dad—I mean my papa does.”
She looked at me only for a moment, but stood politely quiet next to me.
“I’d be willin’ to bet the school bus couldn’t even find us way out here in “no-wheres-ville,” I said under my breath.
“What did ya say, Miss Jane?”
“Never mind,” I said. “I wasn’t really talkin’ to you. And quit lookin’ at me like that, you're botherin’ me.”
She quietly apologized as we stepped out along the path that was surrounded by wild flowers so we could look for the stray cow. I searched as far as the horizon in every direction pretending to look for the cow, but really I was looking for any sign of a town or civilization of any kind. All I could see were a few homes, lots of trees, and plenty of animals.
Discouragement settled in the deep frown that had recently come to be a permanent expression on my face.“Ya don’t seem like ya want to live here,” Rachel said, breaking the sudden, awkward silence.
My frown grew deeper. “I never asked to live here if that’s what ya mean. I had to leave my best friends and a big school back home. I don’t feel like I belong here.”
She held out her arms in a wide circle and flashed me a smile.
“None of this makes me unhappy. It’s wonderful gut to live here if ya can learn to love it.”
“I’m not so sure I could ever be happy here. I miss my friends—and TV—and havin’ a bathroom inside the house.”
“What’s wrong with the outhouse in the yard?” Rachel asked.
“It just isn’t the same—trust me. Besides, it’s 1977 not 1877. People don’t need to use outhouses anymore since plumbing was invented. For cryin’ out loud—I don’t know why I’m even bothering to tell ya this stuff.”
“My papa says God gave me gut ears so I could be a gut listener,” she said.
I forced a smile when she looked at me, and I could almost see the honesty in her big, brown eyes. We walked a little further until we reached the edge of the pasture from where the cow escaped.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel suddenly asked. “Are ya sick, Miss Jane?”
“No. Why?”
“Why are ya holding your hand over your nose?”
“I don’t like the way it smells here,” I said, coughing lightly.
She cupped her hand around her mouth and leaned in close as if to whisper in my ear.
I leaned in a little as though I was interested in her secret. “You smell the cows. They don’t use the outhouse.”
I chuckled a little. “Maybe they should.”
“You will get used to it. Papa calls it good fresh country air, and says there’s no point in complaining about things when there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Well, I say you talk too much!”
She stopped along the path to pick a few of the different flowers that grew wild in the tall grass.
I considered walking away from her, but I wasn’t ready to return to my solitude on the porch swing just yet. “We’ve got a big family like all the families around here. My father says that’s why we’ll have no trouble fitting in. We’ve got two boys and five girls so far. My mother’s gonna have another one after Christmas.”
I had no idea why I was suddenly breaking my own rule of silence with this child, but it almost seemed a relief to speak out.
“I have one older sister named Rebekah,” she said. “She likes your brother, Mitchell.”
I had watched Rebekah with my older brother from my bedroom window, and the two seemed inseparable. She was all he talked about at the dinner table every night, and I was getting tired of hearing how happy he was when I was so miserable.
“I’ve got two older brothers named Samuel and Elijah, and Mam’s going to have twins soon.”
“Is Mam what ya call your mother?”
“Jah,” she said. “My two cousins, Luke and Daniel, live with us since my Uncle Abner and Aunt Esther died.”
“Wow, they didn’t die in the house did they?”
The very subject of death made me feel uneasy, but the thought of living in a house that once belonged to dead people made my stomach suddenly turn. Mitchell had always teased me about there being ghosts in the basement of our old house, and I suppose I’d developed a fear of the unknown because of it.
She shook her head casually, and ignored my question as she continued to talk of her family.
“My brother Elijah is about your age. Do ya want to meet him?” she asked, appearing to be sizing me up.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll meet him some time.” Truth was; I didn’t want to meet anyone.
“He’s in the field with my papa. We can go out there to look for Ida and you can meet Elijah at the same time. Maybe if you make a friend you won’t miss the one’s you can’t see anymore.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the field. I didn’t like her suggestion because I had no intention of replacing my friends, so I gently pulled away from her.
“Maybe later.” Man, she’s a pushy little thing.
She seemed to get the message and let the matter drop.
“Please tell me more about your family,” she begged, as we walked side-by-side along the path.
“Okay. You already know my brother Mitchell. He’s eighteen and a half. Then there’s Nadine, who’s almost seventeen, and I’m almost sixteen. When I was six, my mother had my sister, Rachel who’s nine; then Cameron, my brother came along. He’s seven. Then there’s Lucy; she’s almost six.”
“I’m already gut friends with Lucy. We’re going to sit together in school,” she said.
“Ya already told me you’re friends with Lucy. Anyway; after Lucy is Molly, she’s the youngest at three, but only until the new baby is born. My parents are hopin’ they’ll have another boy, but I’d rather have all sisters.”
I stopped talking and rolled my eyes when I realized that the child had lost interest in what I’d been saying. She led me along the trail, calling out for Ida, until we reached the back of her farm. Their farm mirrored ours, with two homes and an out-house next to the barn. Tall grasses provided segue to the growing fields that furnished a means of capital for the Amish farmers.
We followed the trail through the tall grass that led to a field that seemed to stretch out over several acres. A few feet in front of me, a handsome, teen-aged boy stopped working alongside a large man, bailing hay. They both had on short-sleeved, white shirts and brown trousers with suspenders, and wide-brimmed hats. I could see wisps of dark blonde hair falling out along the boy’s slightly tanned face while he stared as we approached them. I recognized the older man as Abraham Zook, the man who’d sold our farm to my family. He wore a long beard with no mustache, in the traditional Amish style.
Upon our abrupt appearance, one of the brown and white horses reared slightly, jostling the primitive farm equipment to which it was attached. The wide, flat wagon behind it was hooked to a separate team of horses. It was full of round hay bales stacked high, which I thought closely resembled giant Shredded Wheat Biscuits. They didn’t look at all like the square bails of straw my father had bought in town for our barn.
“Gut afternoon, Miss.”
Mr. Zook tipped his hat slightly toward me.
I clasped my hands behind me, nodding nervously. I hated formal introductions, and momentarily felt anger rise up in me toward Rachel for luring me here.
“What are you two girls doing out in the fields on such a hot day?” he asked Rachel as he fanned his face with his hat.
“Elijah, this is Jane,” she said, ignoring her father’s question. “She’s Lucy’s older sister, and she’s helping me look for Ida. She got loose again. I thought I saw her go over to their house, but maybe I was wrong.”
She giggled as her attention darted back and forth between Elijah and me.
“That will be enough of the teasing for now, Rachel,” Abraham said.
“Yes, Papa,” she said with downcast eyes.
She just had to draw attention to me, didn’t she? Is it too late to run off? Elijah might think I’m a baby if I run, so I’ll stay put. “Nice to meet you.”
Elijah tipped his hat toward me, causing my cheeks to flush. I nodded, then, turned my face away from Elijah’s, pretending as though I were looking for a cow that I’d never seen before. I struggled with my thoughts, keeping my back to him so he wouldn’t see the redness that I could feel sweeping over my face. I wasn’t certain what it was that embarrassed me so when Elijah looked at me. Maybe it was because I felt an immediate attraction toward him because he was much different from any of the boys at the public school I had attended.
Maybe Rachel made a mistake about our ages. Elijah looks older than me. But if he’s Nadine’s age, oh, I’ll be so bummed out. He’s such a fox.
My thoughts surprised me. I’d never been in competition with Nadine and I wasn’t about to start now. How could I be jealous when Elijah hadn’t even shown any real interest in me? After all, we just met. I pushed the thought from my mind as best I could and began to walk away from the three of them because I was certain my hot face had turned a shade of red that would surely reveal my intimate thoughts. I wondered how it was that I hadn’t seen this boy before now, and chided myself for wasting the entire summer in my room.
If I’d known I had such a cute neighbor, I might have left the house long before now.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Jane,” Mr. Zook said before I walked out of earshot.
“Me too,” I said over my shoulder.
My voice cracked, exposing the awkwardness I felt over meeting Elijah. I held up a hand, turning only my shoulder behind me to wave, as I continued to walk away.
“Jane, please wait for me,” Rachel called after me, running to catch up.
After a few minutes of walking together in silence, Rachel spoke up again.
“Elijah was staring at you for sure and for certain!”
Her comment took me by surprise but I tried not to let it show. I pulled a tall piece of grass from the field and began twisting it around my fingers, suddenly realizing I’d somehow lost the flowers that I’d picked only a few minutes earlier.
“How old is he anyway?” I asked, shrugging as though I didn’t really care what the answer was.
“He’s almost seventeen. Nearly ready to marry soon, Papa says.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t comment. Normally, I would have never believed such an answer, except for the fact that my father had sat the whole family down before our move to explain what our new neighbors would be like.
Growing up in a big city made it next to impossible to believe that people actually still drove horse-driven buggies instead of a car. It all seemed so backward to us as he explained it. Still, we sat with eyes wide, as my father prepared us for the type of language we would hear and the things we would see once our move was official. I’d forgotten that my father had tried hard to convince us that a lot of the Amish were married by the time they reached eighteen. None of it seemed real at the time my father explained it, but Rachel’s statement had made it a reality for me. I felt a little unnerved, not knowing what bothered me more at the moment; the fact that Elijah was indeed the same age as Nadine, or that he might be looking for a girl to marry. I pushed the silly thoughts aside for the time being so I could concentrate on helping Rachel look for the cow. After all, I certainly had nothing better to do, and this little girl had somehow captured my curiosity. It’s funny how quickly something so simple can change things and put them in perspective, for I suddenly realized that looking for a cow was the most excitement I’d had in months.
TWO
A TIME TO LEARN
On September fifth, school was officially open. In spite of my father’s many talks, I wasn’t truly prepared for what I saw as I entered the one-room schoolhouse. Neither was Nadine.
We walked into the entrance to an area lined with bookshelves on one side; wooden pegs for coats on the other side. Above the pegs was a shelf already filled with round metal pails I suspected contained food; the smell of fried chicken mixed with rain-soaked suede coats, hung in the air. Nadine and I stood at the doorway and stared for some time. I wanted to leave, but where would I go for an entire day?
I tugged on Nadine’s arm. “We aren’t gonna stay here for real, are we?”
Nadine narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “You heard what your father said. We have to stay here all day—every day.”
“He’s yer dad too, Nadine. You need to stop disowning mom and dad whenever yer mad. Ya make yerself sound so stupid when ya do that.”
My father expected us to be in school all day, and in school we would be whether we wanted to or not.
When we finally mustered up the nerve to step inside, the other kids scattered about as though being there was second-nature to them. Nadine and I, on the other hand, looked as out of place as a couple of hippies in an uptown office.
I looked around trying to make some sense of it, but it all seemed so primitive. A homemade sign painted in black lettering hung above the door that read “Coat Room”; as if we didn’t already know. Rebekah Zook, the schoolteacher and my brother, Mitchell’s girlfriend, greeted us cheerfully as we entered the over-sized schoolroom full of children of all ages. Several rows of long tables filled the room; wooden chairs pushed neatly beneath them. On top of the tables sat a McGuffey Reader for each place setting in the first three rows. The older children were instructed to sit in the back two rows.
In the front of the room, a chalkboard covered the entire wall. The east and west walls consisted of tall windows, reaching nearly from floor to ceiling. Along the back wall, a length of rope with clothes pins for the hanging of wet coats was fashioned under a row of several worn maps that were attached with straight pins. After attending such a large high school, I suddenly realized it was going to take a lot of adjusting to get used to learning in such a small environment.
Is Elijah coming?” Nadine asked Rebekah.
I cringed.
Why can’t that girl learn to keep her big mouth shut?
Nadine and I had secretly watched Elijah from the fence line for the previous two weeks. I disliked the idea of having Nadine tag along on such an important adventure, but I knew she would tattle on me if I refused to let her go. Nadine was just as interested in him as I was, but I was certain I had an advantage over Nadine to win Elijah’s heart since I’d recently made his acquaintance and she had not.
“The older boys don’t come back to school ‘til harvesting season is all finished up, but Elijah won’t be here at all since he’s too old. The boys don’t usually come to learn past eighth grade, and most times, the girls don’t come either if they’re needed at home.”
I nudged Nadine. “So tell me again why I didn’t stay home?”
“I ain’t goin’ over this again, Jane. Ya know we ain’t allowed to stay home. Dad don’t care that we’re past the eighth grade. We have to go to school, and that’s the end of it.”
“Ya don’t gotta snap at me. I didn’t make the rules.”
“Besides,” Nadine said. “I thought I’d come and see what it was all about. I think it would be fun to see what the Amish are learnin’.”
Nadine sounded nervous. She was trying too hard to cover up her embarrassment over being at the school, and I wasn’t buying the act she was putting forth for Rebekah’s sake. The only thing I didn’t understand was why Rebekah even registered us if we were too old to attend. Other than our father’s stern persistence over continuing our education, the only thing we might learn here would be the values that he insisted upon. Right now, though, I was in total envy of my brother for finishing at the public school back home.
Rebekah cleared her throat. “Deborah Yoder is here, but Lydia stays home to help with the harvesting of their orchard. Deborah is trying for her teacher’s certificate.”
“She’s gonna teach?”
Nadine was practically screeching.
Deborah and Nadine had become friends, but her tone made me wonder if this new bit of information would change all that. I knew Nadine’s competitive nature all too well, and she was never keen on the idea of someone being one-up on her.
“Maybe you could teach too, Nadine,” Rebekah offered. “Because you went to public school, you may be ahead of Deborah. And if I am to marry your brother, I won’t have any need for my teaching certificate. The Elders will need someone to fill the position.”
The look of satisfaction on Nadine’s face told me she was eager to learn more about teaching, though I wanted no part of it. As far as Lydia was concerned, we’d met her briefly a few months back. She, too, had been interested in my brother, Mitchell, but Rebekah had won his heart. Mitchell and Molly were the only kids in my family not in attendance at the one-room schoolhouse, since Mitchell had graduated and Molly was only three.
As I gazed about the room, I noticed that all the female students were wearing the traditional long skirts or dresses and aprons with white kapps on their heads. The boys had on trousers with suspenders, collared shirts, and wide-brim straw hats—much like the one I’d noticed Elijah wearing every day in the fields.
I nudged Nadine and pointed slightly, drawing her attention to the others. She ignored me. It felt awkward that she and I were the only girls in trousers—even Rachel and Lucy had worn their summer dresses. I wondered if we were expected to wear dresses to school, even though Rebekah hadn’t mentioned it to our mother when she put our names in her school roster. After a heavy sigh, I decided it best to push the thought from my head, knowing there was nothing to be done about it until later.
Rebekah began to write upon the black board, so Nadine and I took a seat with the older girls.
“Today,” she began. “Is Monday, September fifth, nineteen hundred, seventy-seven; the year of our Lord.”
It’s 1977; the year of disco. Man, I miss listening to my record player.
Rebekah was still speaking, but I just couldn’t concentrate.
“I have written it out for the younger children. I would like everyone to write their name and the date at the top of a piece of paper and write down what they did over the summer. We’ll be sharing at the end of the school day.”
Oh great. I knew it was a waste of time to come here. The last thing I wanna do is write an assignment for babies.
Everything I started to write had to be erased. I wasn’t about to share with a bunch of strangers that we moved here after my mother sobered up in a clinic; or that I spent most of my summer crying in my strange, new room because I missed my friends back home. My father had been right about one thing, we had started all over in this strange place, and there was no reason to reveal our secret past to any of them. Since there wasn’t anything I could write that would be of any interest—except the secret that Nadine and I shared about spying on Elijah, I wrote about Ida. I wrote about the dumb cow, and everyone loved it!
****
When school was dismissed, I endured the long walk home. I skipped ahead of Daniel Zook and my brother, Cameron, who had tried several times to toss their ball over my head. All the kids in my family had already made friends—except me, and I really wasn’t interested in making any in this boring place.
Upon entering the long, dirt drive that led to the house, I noticed the plumbing truck, which was once again parked right in front of the house, drawing a lot of attention among the neighbors.
Miller’s Plumbing had worked for two straight weeks putting modern plumbing throughout the house, and had even turned a storage closet upstairs into a bathroom. Abraham Zook had been over once or twice to voice his protest in the beginning, but my father cordially reminded him that we weren’t Amish, and we could no longer tolerate hauling the water in from the well just to bathe. I was happy because I wasn’t looking forward to having to run to the outhouse in the middle of the night in the dead of winter. Yes, a bathtub and toilet suited me just fine, since it was something I’d grown up having.
Still, seeing the truck made me realize my family wasn’t doing a very good job of trying to fit in with the community. I also feared we would lose the Zook’s friendship, which would destroy any chance I had at getting Elijah’s attention. I figured Mr. Zook’s protesting over the plumbing was due to his attachment to the house since it had belonged to his brother, Abner, up until he died. But every time I saw Mr. Zook, he was every bit as pleasant as always. It was a good thing too, because I’d overheard my father tell my mother he had plans to have the county hook up electricity.
When I entered the door to the main house, my mother and Naomi Zook looked up at me from their sewing.
“There’s lemonade out on the porch if you’re thirsty,” my mother said as I passed through the room.
“Don’t have time. I’m lookin’ for Mitchell,” I said over my shoulder.
What I really meant was that I didn’t want to get caught up in adult talk—especially not the Amish folklore I’d overheard too many times already. I’d convinced myself the stories bored me, though I’d found myself listening intently on a few occasions when the two of them didn’t know I was lurking about the house.
“We made fresh cookies.” Naomi’s voice was faint by the time I reached the kitchen.
I ignored them, and quickly poured a glass of lemonade before running out through the kitchen door to the Dawdi Haus out back. A quick holler let me know Mitchell wasn’t there so I ran out to the main field, which is where I’d been able to find him in recent days. He had offered to work the land for a small monthly wage so my father could continue to work in town until all the money was raised for our first year of operating the farm. In addition to his wage, my parents let him live in the Dawdi Haus. My father explained that the extra house is normally used for the grandparents to reside in when one of the sons takes over the farm after he marries. My parents said they would rather live in the main house until each of us kids was old enough to be out on our own, and Mitchell seemed fine with that arrangement because it meant he could have his own place.
My mother had her own contribution to the farm, with Naomi and a few other women to teach her how to use the wood cook stove. My father’s stomach was always pleased with my mother’s learning, and so was Mitchell’s after a hard day in the fields. She was also learning to can vegetables and fruits for winter storage. My father and Mitchell had already used the smoke house to cure some ham from the pig that the Zook’s had given us as a welcome gift.
My father was also pleased with the way my younger siblings had begun to fashion their language after our neighbors—I was still a little unsure about the idea of calling my parents Mam and Papa, but it was something I was beginning to get used to hearing. My parents even encouraged Mitchell to begin courting Rebekah Zook just before school began. In the eyes of the community, at eighteen, she was almost too old to be courting, but my brother had taken a shine to her and was quite pleased that Abraham had given his consent for the two to court “proper-like.”
Normally, marriage to outsiders was strictly forbidden, but my father informed us that the Zook’s and the surrounding community had changed a few years back by relaxing most of the Old Order customs. None of us really understood everything about it, but I knew it meant their rules had changed, allowing Mitchell and Rebekah the opportunity to marry, as long as he took on most of her traditional ways and honored her beliefs. Mitchell was so smitten with the schoolteacher that he was determined to become a farmer for her sake.
After stepping carefully over the clumps of earth that had been turned over, I reached Mitchell in the middle of the field with the lemonade I’d grabbed from the screened porch. He looked more pleased to see the glass of lemonade in my hand than he was to hear how my first day at the schoolhouse had gone.
“Ya brought that for me, right?”
I didn’t answer.
Mitchell wiped the sweat from his brow with a red bandanna that he pulled from the back pocket of his dusty trousers. Thick, wet strands of his dark hair stuck to his sunburned forehead. Sweat continued to drip from his hair onto his face, so he tied the bandanna around his head. He hopped down from the tractor and punched my arm playfully.
“I see ya brought me some lemonade.”
He grabbed the lemonade from me and gulped it down, then, handed the glass back to me.
“I drank outta that glass,” I teased. “I back-washed in it.”
“Ya did not, shorty, because if ya did, I’d have to rub yer face in the dirt.”
“I’m not short,” I barked. “Ya just grew more than I did, that’s all.”
“Yeah, and I got bigger muscles than you, too,” he said as he flexed his biceps.
He relaxed his hand, then, grimaced, holding his palms open, revealing red and blistered hands.
“I guess yer not so tough after all.” I held a hand over my mouth to cover my grin.
“Did ya come out here for a reason, or did ya just come out here to make fun of me?”
“Don’tcha even wanna hear ‘bout my day at the little school house?” I begged. “By the way, if ya marry Miss Rebekah, you're gonna have to give up this modern tractor and drag a horse through them fields.”
“Don’t tease me. And don’t ya go worryin’ ‘bout my business. Abraham ain’t mad at Papa anymore for puttin’ plumbin’ in the house and all. He got over it after the first week of the Miller’s truck bein’ in the driveway. So he ain’t gonna bother me none ‘bout havin’ a tractor. B’sides, ya need to start watchin’ what ya say. The Amish boys like to tease a fella if they find out he’s courtin’.”
“Listen to yourself. You’re really becoming one of them, aren’t you?” I asked, suppressing laughter.
He pursed his lips and punched me in the arm again.
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“Ooh, don’t be such a baby. So, ya gonna tell me how yer day went? I’ll bet it would have been more fun if Elijah had been there today instead of in them fields over thar with his papa.”
“If I can’t tease you, then ya can’t tease me either. And don’t say stuff like that, somebody might hear ya. Then I’ll get in trouble for thinkin’ on boys when I ain’t supposed to yet. I’ll make ya a deal—if you’ll be keepin’ my secret, I’ll be keepin’ yers.”
I pushed out my lower lip in an effort to stifle his laughter toward my seemingly hopeless situation.
“Ya don’t gotta beg. Hang in there,” he said as he punched my arm again. “Maybe Papa will reconsider his decision next month when ya turn sixteen. Who knows, maybe ya could start comin’ to Sunday Night Singin’s if yer lucky,” he added.
“What in the world is a Sunday Night Singin’?”
“Well if ya hadn’t spent the first few months in yer room after we moved here, poutin’ like a spoiled child, you would know more ‘bout what goes on around here,” he said, nodding his head and raising his eyebrow as though he had information that was privy to him alone.
“Wait just a minute,” I interrupted. “The only reason I stayed in my room is ‘cause our parents moved me away b’fore Bradley came to visit his grandma for the summer. I was just mad because I missed out on seein’ him this year. After bein’ somebody’s best friend for so many years, it ain’t easy givin’ him up, ya know.”
“Ya don’t gotta convince me. I know ya miss Bradley, but ya gotta move on with yer life. Ya should’ve gotten his new address if ya wanted to stay in touch with him. It ain’t easy, but ya gotta learn to live with the mistake ya made in not gettin’ his address last year,” he said.
“It ain’t my fault. I didn’t know we were gonna move, and he was the best friend I’d ever had, besides Penelope. And we both know I’ll never see her again either since she got put in a foster home last year. That’s two best friends gone in one year, and I just can’t take any crap from you about it.”
“C’mon, let’s not argue. Before ya get yer feathers ruffled over somethin’ ya ain’t got any control over, put your energy into what friends ya can get now, and make sure ya don’t lose any more,” he said as he gave me an affectionate squeeze.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get off track. Weren’t ya gonna give me the skinny on Sunday Singin’s?”
He smiled at me, letting me know that we were settled in our disagreement, then, continued with his explanation.
“Singin’s are what ya do when you're courtin’ an Amish girl. Usually it’s at someone’s barn and only the youth in the area are allowed—especially if you're courtin’ someone. We sing songs and play games. It really is a lot of fun. Rebekah and I have gone to a few, but we don’t let on to any of the fellas that we’re courtin’ one another. If we had, we’d have gotten teased somethin’ awful. For some reason or another, Amish boys like to tease ya when they find out you're courtin’ someone.”
“Would ya talk to Dad—Papa for me, Mitchell?”
“Don’t beg.”
“But ya don’t understand. If I can just get Elijah to notice me, then maybe I’ll have a chance to go to one of them Singin’s with him,” I said.
“Oh, he’s already noticed ya plenty. ‘Says he likes yer long blonde hair.” He flicked a wavy spiral from my shoulder and I pushed at his arm.
“Is that what he said?”
Mitchell just stood there, staring at me like I hadn’t said a word to him.
I stomped my feet playfully. “Tell me,” I demanded.
“Hold on a minute. You're so giddy; the whole county is gonna mistake your jumpin’ around for an earthquake.”
The excitement left me as soon as he made his comment.
“That’s not funny.”
“Well I had to say somethin’ to get your attention. Papa said ya had to be seventeen to have a beau, and unless he changes his mind, ya ought to hold your horses a bit. A year could be a long wait if you're gonna be this excited about it now. If Elijah’s really interested, he’ll wait on ya. And ya can be sure he’ll be proper around ya, so ya better start thinkin’ properly ‘bout him, or you’ll lose him to another girl,” he warned me.
Listening to Mitchell talk this way made it hard to believe that only a few short years ago I had felt nothing short of hatred for him because of his mean disposition. I had, in fact, despised my entire family because none of them ever cared to be kind to one another, much less to help another member with a problem. Oh, occasionally, Nadine and I would put our heads together, but it usually meant trouble for the both of us. Now Mitchell was grown up and every bit of what a big brother ought to be. He no longer carried the hatred in his heart that made him ugly. In fact, he’d grown to be quite handsome with the added feature of a kinder disposition, and Rebekah was right to have chosen him.
I walked away from Mitchell with the empty glass in my hand, forgetting that I wanted to tell him what a great teacher his Rebekah had been. The only thing on my mind was how to create an opportunity to talk to Elijah. I knew it wouldn’t be easy with his papa by his side in the field all day. I even worried that I might need to employ some of the workings of the “old Jane” in order to come up with a plan that would work.
Unable to think of anything that wasn’t devious, I left the glass on the back porch and walked slowly toward the Zook farm feeling quite discouraged. Rachel was on the front porch with Lucy, shelling peas with an older girl I thought I recognized from school.
“Hello, Jane. This is my cousin Hannah. She lives across the road.”
Rachel pointed to a grey farmhouse set back off the road. It was tough to see through the trees that lined the road in front of the property. In fact, I hadn’t even realized there was a farm there until she pointed it out, as I hadn’t yet explored much of my new surroundings.
“She’s the same age as you,” Rachel said, interrupting my thoughts.
“That’s cool. I mean; nice to meet ya, Hannah.”
I put up a hand as if to wave, then, felt a little awkward until she mirrored my action and waved back. Without waiting for an invite, I stepped onto the porch to join the others.
Hannah picked up a pitcher from a long table in front of a set of windows that lined the front of the house along the length of the porch. “Would you like some lemonade?”
“Yep. That would be nice. I just gave mine away to my brother in the south field a few minutes ago, and completely forgot to get myself some more. I’m awful thirsty,” I rattled on nervously.
Talking to people that I didn’t know had never been a talent of mine, but after the conversation I just had with Mitchell, I figured it was time for me to learn.
“Oh no!”
Rachel startled me with her sudden outburst.
“I knew I would forget to take a drink to Papa and Elijah. Mam’s going to give me extra chores if I don’t get out there.”
Rachel scampered a bit to gather the glasses full of refreshment for the two in the field.
“I’ll help ya,” I offered, secretly hoping this might be my chance to speak to the boy I admired so.
“Well, let’s go if we’re going to do it,” Hannah said.
Until that moment, I hadn’t counted on it being a group outing, feeling a little unsure of myself. I didn’t want an audience when I met up with Elijah in the field, but it was too late to rethink my offer of service.
I followed nervously behind the three girls, trying not to spill the pitcher that held the remaining lemonade in it. When Elijah came into view, a lump welled up in my throat, making it difficult to breathe. Once again, I found myself trudging over clumps of dirt—only this time I had to manage a half-full pitcher of lemonade instead of a mere glass. My eyes locked onto Elijah’s, and even from that distance, I could see the deep blue of his eyes as they sparkled in the sun.
Without warning, my foot caught in a clump of earth, sending me face down in the dirt. My ankle had twisted in the dirt, causing me to let out a high-pitched yelp just prior to landing. Lemonade seemed to spray in every direction, especially in my hair. Elijah immediately ran to my aid, but I was so embarrassed, I found it difficult to look him in the eye. I suddenly tasted blood mixed with the dirt in my mouth.
Rachel gasped. “You’re bleeding, Miss Jane!”
“Take her on up to the house, Elijah.” Mr. Zook spoke with authority.
Elijah offered his arm in assistance, which was a bit awkward in the beginning. However, the shooting pain in my ankle was bigger than my pride at the moment, which forced me to accept his arm with gratitude. He seemed to be a knowledgeable and calm guide, but I supposed he’d seen worse injuries on the farm than my ankle.
“Steady now,” he cautioned. “You don’t have to hurry. I imagine you’ll be off that ankle for a gut while.”
His voice was as gentle as I’d imagined it to be, and his strength in holding me was exciting. I was in no hurry, I felt safe and secure with his strong arms around me. We arrived at the porch of his farmhouse, and he sat me down gently in the same worn porch swing that Rachel had sat in just minutes before. Then he reached up and smoothed back my sticky hair from my face and smiled a heartfelt smile.“Looks like ya got yourself a mouthful of my God-given earth, and it’s smudged your pretty face a little, too,” he said.
My face flushed at his boldness.
Does he really think I’m pretty, or is he just being nice? I don’t think I care. I just like the attention.
Ha…equal rights are for ugly girls.
Though I knew it wasn’t right to get caught up in his good looks, I couldn’t help myself. I had to admit, though, his kindness was enough to make this moment worth the world to me, and I was prepared to milk it for all its worth.
“You wait here, Jane, and I’ll get a wet cloth to mop up some of the blood.”
I stared into his smiling blue eyes until he turned and walked away. All my life I had despised my name, until Elijah spoke it just then. Up until recently, my mother had spoken my name in harshness, but it sounded almost poetic coming from his lips.
When he returned, he sat down beside me on the swing, and began to dab gently at my bleeding lip. I studied his bright blue eyes, hoping for a sign that his kind actions weren’t out of some sort of Amish tradition. My father had told us about the people’s kindness being “their way”, but I wanted to believe this was more than traditional Amish kindness. Neither of us said a word, but I felt as though there was plenty being said as we fixed our eyes on one another. I wanted to kiss him. I’d always been an impulsive person, but my bloody lip kept the desire in check. My awkwardness had left me, and a sense of belonging settled in me as we sat quietly starring at each other for what seemed like a slow-moving moment in time.
Rachel and Lucy broke the silence when they scampered up onto the porch steps. Rachel even sat between us on the swing. I leered at her, knowing she did it on purpose. Elijah stood up abruptly and took my hand in his. His hands were rough and worn, as though they had seen many days of hard labor.
“Is there anything else you need, Jane?”
His manner was so gentle that I wanted to beg him to stay, but I held my tongue.
“Papa will be missing me in the fields, I should get back,” he said, his hands still clenching mine.
He flashed me a smile as he let my hand down gently in my lap. He advanced to the steps of the porch and turned to leave.
I understood he had work to do, but I didn’t like it. When he turned back, I sensed his hesitation.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, shooing him with my hand. “I just bruised my pride a little.”
He stood there smiling at me as though he understood, then, stepped off the porch, heading back toward the field. He turned his head a final time before leaving the yard to wave, and I waved back, feeling confident that this was the beginning of a friendship that might prove to be greater than the ones I had with Bradley and Penelope.
“I’ll stop by to see you tomorrow, if it’s okay with you?” he asked.
I wanted to jump up with excitement, but my ankle kept me in check. So I nodded my answer with a smile, and watched him disappear beyond the pine trees that surrounded the porch. I was suddenly thankful for the reminder of the pain in my ankle, which forced me to act like a lady instead of being impulsive the way I had been most of my life. If I was to win his heart I may have to begin to mimic the girls whose company I was presently keeping.
“Elijah likes you,” Rachel teased.
Hannah made kissing noises against her hand. “Is there anything else you need, Jane?”
“Don’t mock me,” I insisted.
“I can’t help it. It was just so cute the way he took your hand in his. I agree with Rachel. I believe my cousin likes you.”
I looked at Hannah, wondering if she was still teasing me, or if she truly believed Elijah liked me. Excitement welled up in me, and I was almost glad I’d fallen.
****
That night, I could scarcely sleep. I tossed and fidgeted so often that I woke Nadine.
“What’s the matter with ya? Go back to sleep and be quiet.”
“Don’t yell at me, Nadine.”
“If I was yellin’, you’d know it,” she threatened.“Ya are so yellin’, so cut it out.”
“Nope. And you can’t make me.”
“I’m sorry, Nadine. Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean to wake ya. I just can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout Elijah.”
She raised a thin eyebrow and sat up in her bed to face me.
“What about Elijah?” She was practically gritting her teeth when she spoke.
“Oh man. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my whole life as I was today. I fell in Elijah’s field and he had to help me back to his porch. But oh my gosh, Elijah was so sweet to me. Ya wouldn’t believe how nice he is—and so cute too, but anyone can see that.”
Nadine sighed and rolled her eyes, stuffing her pillow over her head.
“I’m just so happy that ya got to spend time with him, but I don’t want to hear another word, so please shut up and go back to sleep,” came a muffled and angry scolding from Nadine.
“Well ya don’t sound very happy for me. What're ya gettin’ so mad about?”
Nadine yanked the pillow off her face and pursed her lips. “Not another word, Jane—I mean it.”
“What's yer problem, Nadine? Yer actin’ like yer jealous.”
“I am not jealous. I just want ya to stop talkin’ and go back to sleep.”
“Yer the one that needs to stop talking. If ya don’t be quiet, yer gonna wake up everybody in the house,” I warned her.
“I said not another word or you’ll be sorry—I mean it, Jane—this is yer last warning.”
“You need to take a chill-pill,” I said, throwing a stuffed animal at her. I laid down on my bed, determined to dream of Elijah—she certainly couldn’t stop me from doing that.
****
The following morning, my ankle was very stiff and hurt more than the day before. It reminded me of a time when I was five, and had sprained my ankle because my mother had let me fall from the monkey bars at my elementary school. She had been so cruel that day by teasing me and refusing to help me down.
As I hobbled down the stairs, I reminded myself that I’d forgiven my mother quite some time ago, so I determined that I would put it out of my mind. I smiled as I reflected on the day she came home from the clinic, but a sudden commotion toward the side of the house interrupted my thoughts.