The Amish Marriage Bargain. Marie E. Bast
weren’t looking.” He smiled like a bu who had just received a dollar to buy some candy.
“My cheese factory is doing very well.” He glanced at May. “The artisanal cheese is a big seller. It’s fancy cheese for the Englisch, they liebe it with crackers. The cheddar with bacon bits is my most popular seller. My shop is even in the Iowa Cheese Club and on the Iowa Cheese Roundup.” He cleared his throat. “I’m building a haus and will be well established enough to marry soon.”
The twinkle in his eye warned May he wasn’t here just as her friend. She dropped her gaze as his hand started inching closer to hers. She jumped up, twisting her foot but stifled the yelp. “I’ll make some coffee and we’ll have a cookie. I made them the other day. Snickerdoodles.”
“That’s okay, May. Don’t go to any trouble. Please, sit and talk.”
“Nein. You deserve a little refreshment after driving all the way here and then helping Thad.” She hurried to make a small pot of coffee, and in the meantime, set a plate of cookies on the table. When the coffee was ready, she poured two cups, set them on the table and collapsed on the chair.
“You seem tired, May.”
“Jah, I am.” When they finished their coffee, she stood and walked him to the porch. As she waved goodbye, a movement caught her eye and she turned toward the dawdi haus.
Gretchen was watching them from her flower garden.
It was for the best that he went home. She needed time to think of a way to tell Elmer she didn’t liebe him and didn’t want to marry him.
And she needed time to think of an answer for Thad...and what was best for the rest of her life.
Thad helped his youngies stack the vegetable boxes of tomatoes, carrots and bush beans onto the truck bound for Des Moines. This load would complete the contract he had with a local market chain. He heaved the last box up into the waiting hands of the Vickerson Transport Company man inside the truck, stacking and securing the boxes. Done.
The truck driver handed Thad the clipboard with the receipt. He reviewed it, signed it, took his copy and handed it back. It was 6:30 a.m. when the truck pulled away.
Thad pulled a hanky from his pocket and wiped his brow as he watched the truck pull out of the drive. “Ethan Lapp, you and Carl Ropp head to the barn and start milking, it’s getting late. The rest of you are on cleanup, follow me.”
While Thad supervised, the buwe cleaned the packaging room of vegetable scraps, foam pieces and boxing debris, then he had them scrub the area and store the unused cartons back on the shelves. When they completed the task, he had them disinfect the milking room when Ethan and Carl had finished with the last cow. After lunch, they spent the rest of the day weeding the north forty acres. At four o’clock, he gathered the three summer hires for a short meeting. “Danki for all your help, you work hard and did a gut job today. You can come back on Friday morning for your pay. If you don’t make it, I’ll drop your check in the mail.”
Daniel, the newest of his summer hires, stepped forward while the other two walked away. “Danki, Mr. Hochstetler. If you need help with anything else, give a shout.”
Thad patted him on the back. “Danki. I’ll do that.”
As the buwe stood by their buggies talking, Thad overheard a few discussions of what they were going to do with their money. He chuckled. Most planned to save it. However, a few sounded like they were going to fix up their buggies to attract a pretty mädel.
Rumbling wheels on the drive pulled his attention from the buwe to his daed’s buggy heading straight toward him. Daed parked under the shade of the oak tree and stepped down. He walked toward Thad with an uneasy look on his face.
“Something wrong, Daed?”
The older man took a couple of purposeful strides closer. “The bishop stopped to chat with me in town.” He kicked a stone with his foot as he stopped abruptly. “He said the elders didn’t like you and May living in sin together. Your year of mourning is over. What was allowed before, won’t be tolerated now.”
Thad’s jaw dropped. “That’s not true.”
Daed held up his hand. “Stop right there. Whether you are or not, it goes by appearance and what’s decent. You’re out here on the farm with May inside the haus. You wander in and out all day and spend the evenings together.”
“Who said that?” Thad’s back bolted up straight.
“Is it true or not?”
“Jah, but it’s my haus and May lives here, too. It was her daed’s farm, but you know all that.”
“You must marry May, or she must move out. I know what her papa said about her staying in the haus, but no doubt, he would thank me for looking out for her reputation. I worry that no nice bu will want to marry her.”
Thad stepped back so fast he almost fell. His hands and face turned cold as his blood drained to his feet. His throat tightened so he could barely speak. “Who...is spreading rumors?”
“The bishop said that several elders have mentioned it to him. Not just that, but he doesn’t want the Englisch neighbors to think that we condone living in sin. Not my words, his.” Daed’s voice turned sullen. “Did you tell May that the bishop paid you a visit?”
“She knows he was here, but we never talked about what he said.” Thad’s gaze dropped to the grass. His mind whirled. He didn’t want to lose May when they were just starting to get along. This would humiliate her, and for sure and for certain she’d move the three hundred miles to Aent Edna’s.
Thad rubbed a hand over his heart. It felt as though a hundred stampeding Holsteins had trampled on his chest. Gott, how do I make May understand? We need to get married—and fast. When I tell her, please ease her pain and confusion.
He paced the ground, then faced his daed. “How much time did the bishop say we could have to think about this situation?”
Daed hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and locked eyes with Thad. “She has to be told today. Either she moves out in the next couple of days, or you marry.” He gave Thad an easy pat on the shoulder. “She’s a fine woman and would make Leah a gut mamm. Do what’s right, Thad.” He nodded and headed back to his buggy.
Thad wandered to the bench he’d made a year ago and sat in the front yard. He stared at his daed’s buggy kicking up dirt and sticks as it sped across the barnyard to the dawdi haus. The dust swirled in the wind, then disappeared like May would probably do when he told her about the gossip.
He kicked at the grass underfoot. He could give May back the farm, and she could pay someone to run it. The outcome would no doubt be the same. Someone would gossip about her and that man. Then the bishop would make her marry him.
They were getting along better. Maybe she’d consider a proposal. Nein, what was he thinking? She had told him once she hated her sister’s secondhand clothes. She’d never want her secondhand husband.
He stood and walked around the haus toward the porch while a million reasons why their marriage was a bad idea bombarded his senses. Was it possible one of the buwe who worked for him was gossiping about him and May and his daed just didn’t tell him?
He reached the porch steps and halted, one foot still in mid-air, then he slowly lowered it to the step. He tried to budge the other foot from the ground, but it felt as if glue clung to the sole of his shoe making the task difficult. Finally, one step after the other, he reached the top, knocked on the kitchen door and entered.