The Amish Marriage Bargain. Marie E. Bast
doesn’t look like the USDA is in any big hurry to make changes. That means that many farmers are going to have to sell organic for the regular milk price. We’ll lose money, about 33 percent, by doing that, but it can’t be helped.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know how hard you work.”
“Jah, well, times are changing.”
“Maybe you could sell the cows and put in all produce?”
“The reason why we diversify is because a storm could wipe out the whole crop. This way we still have milk money to fall back on. The president of the association called the newspaper and a reporter showed up. He was going to put a story in the paper. Maybe the Englisch politicians will take notice. I’m praying for that.”
May flashed him a hopeful smile.
“How’s Leah? When I’m outside, I don’t see her much.She’s not up yet?”
“She was up earlier playing and had her breakfast. Now she’s napping. We were outside all yesterday afternoon. She missed her nap, and went to bed early. It threw her off schedule.”
“How is your vegetable stand doing?”
“It’s doing very well. Lots of Englisch stop by the roadside stand wanting to buy fresh produce.”
“Ah, gut. At least there is something we grow that the consumers like to buy.”
They hadn’t talked this much since they’d courted. Yet, if he was going to persuade her to stay, they’d need to be getting along a whole lot better. She set the breakfast on the table and sat opposite Thad. After the blessing, she poured his coffee and dished up her plate.
She only tolerated him, but in all fairness, he had dumped her and married her sister. He truly regretted that.
They both wanted the farm to succeed. And he sure hoped her liebe for it and Leah made her come to the right conclusion. But he needed to know where he stood with May.
A flash of fear tugged at his gut as he aimed his gaze across the table. “Have you made a decision yet about leaving Iowa?”
She raised her head and he could read the surprise on her face.
The words popped out before he could bite them back. He knew he shouldn’t rush her. She needed time. He’d only push her into making a hasty decision. That probably wouldn’t be in his favor.
“Nein. I’m taking my time—a move to Indiana is final. It’s a big decision, and I want to get it right.”
A sigh whooshed out before he could stop it. That meant he still had time to sway her decision.
But how could he convince her to stay?
May lugged the baskets of tomatoes and bins of green beans and peapods to her roadside stand she had put at the end of the driveway by the white fence. She arranged the quart-size cartons of strawberries in rows, then sat the plastic bags and cash box on the opposite end of the table.
She blotted her forehead with her hand as she glanced at the blanket on the ground where Leah sat playing. Her pumpkin was the only sweetness in her life. For sure and for certain, she was going to miss that little bit of sugar if she headed to Indiana. She’d told Thad she hadn’t made a decision, but in truth, it was for the best that she moved. But she needed to consider it from all angles.
Someday Thad would want to remarry, and that would make it uncomfortable for her. Edna’s offer was only for a short while, and she needed to take advantage of her generosity.
A warm breeze danced across her face, drying the perspiration on her forehead. She turned in that direction, stood for a minute and fully enjoyed the blessing.
It reminded her of the times she and April had sat under a tree one summer and talked about buwe. Who was the cutest, which one had the best personality, and who owned the broadest shoulders? Thad and Alvin tied for the win in all categories. A few pangs of homesickness stirred in her, knowing these would be her last few weeks on the land if she decided to move.
May glanced toward the barn where Thad stood looking her way. It was hard even imagining losing the family’s farm.
She finished arranging her vegetable stand, then took a step back and glanced at the display in front of the white fence. Perfect.
She’d miss her garden and the stand, but surely Aent Edna had a patch behind her café and bake shop.
She picked up Leah and the blanket she was sitting and crawling on. Leah smiled so sweetly that it stole May’s heart as she swung the tyke around. Leah giggled while little wisps of taffy-colored hair bounced around her cherub face. “Mamm, more!”
“Nein, it’s time for your nap, little one.”
“Mamm,” Leah laughed.
May reached the porch and laid the blanket on a chair. She turned when she heard wheels rumbling into the drive.
Bishop Yoder climbed out of his buggy and walked a few steps in her direction. “Gut afternoon, May. Another hot July day, jah? Is Thad around?”
“I believe he’s in the shed boxing vegetables, Bishop. Would you like a glass of lemonade?”
He looked toward the shed, then back at May. “That does sound gut. Just a small one.”
He followed her into the kitchen and plunked down on a chair waving his hat across his face.
“Would you rather sit on the porch?”
“Nein. This is fine.”
She sat Leah on the floor by her toys, cut a piece of banana bread, poured a glass of lemonade and set them in front of him.
He took a bite of bread, then washed it down with the cold drink. “Mmm, they are both gut.”
“I’m just going to put Leah down for a nap, but I’ll be right back.”
She laid Leah in her downstairs crib and returned to the kitchen.
She poured herself a glass of lemonade and joined the bishop at the table. “It’s a hot day for visiting.”
“Indeed. Tell me, May, does Thad work the farm every day, and do you cook his meals?”
A chill ran up her back. “Jah.”
“How’s this situation working out for you?” He took another sip and waited for her reply.
“I’m not sure I understand the question, Bishop.” She rubbed her finger down the glass through the condensation.
“Jah, he jilted you years ago, is that right? So is it uncomfortable for you to live here? Together?”
“This is my family farm that Thad inherited from April, but Daed said I could stay here until I married.”
“But he’s here all day.” The bishop gestured with his hand to the outside.
“He lets me stay, so I watch Leah and cook the meals. That’s all. Otherwise, I see very little of him during the day.”
The bishop finished his refreshment, pushed his chair back and gave May a nod. “See you on Sunday.”
She froze in her chair, and waited until his footfalls left the porch. She looked out the window. What was that all about? Why was he asking such questions?
May sipped her lemonade, sat the glass down and dried her hand on her apron. No doubt, she wouldn’t like the answers to those questions.
Thad took off his straw hat, slapped