Her Amish Holiday Suitor. Carrie Lighte

       Chapter Three

      Lucy woke early on Monday morning, planning to make breakfast for her father before he left for work. Betty and her daughters weren’t early risers, so Lucy cherished the time she had alone with her daed. It was one of the rare occasions when she could get a word in edgewise, but sometimes instead of conversing they ate in companionable silence, enjoying the familiarity of the pattern they’d established years before Betty and the girls moved in. But by the time Lucy dressed, brushed her long hair into a bun and washed her face, she heard the wheels of a car rolling down the lane.

      The Amish weren’t allowed to drive or own automobiles, but they were permitted to accept rides from Englischers. Lucy’s father’s colleague, Ray, routinely picked him up since their house was on the way to the woodworking production company where they were employed. Not one to take a neighbor’s generosity for granted, Lucy’s father regularly assisted Ray with significant house and yard projects such as roofing or installing fencing.

      Marvin just as well could have taken the buggy to work, but Lucy had an inkling he wanted to be sure there was transportation at home for her. For one thing, if she needed to deliver her goods to Schrock’s Shop, her father didn’t like her to walk, even though Main Street was barely a mile away. For another, Lucy knew he secretly wanted to ensure there was a way for someone to seek medical intervention quickly in the event she developed breathing problems. Two years ago she suffered an acute respiratory attack while she and Betty were at home without a buggy. Betty had had to run to the phone shanty to call for help, and she had wound up gasping so bad by the time the ambulance arrived that the paramedics thought she was the patient. The episode had shaken Lucy’s father deeply, and after that he always left the buggy behind.

      Touched by her father’s thoughtfulness, Lucy never let him know that most days it was Mildred or Katura who used the buggy to travel the short distance to their jobs on Main Street, where they worked part-time. They were both cashiers at the mercantile, which was a grocery and goods store catering primarily to Willow Creek’s Amish. Granted, the two young women spent the better part of their shift on their feet, but most Amish meed in their area walked farther than that to get to their jobs.

      When the two of them weren’t using the buggy, Betty was. She frequently journeyed to Elmsville to visit her ailing sister. But Lucy never cared; she was so glad to have some quiet time to herself she would have offered to carry her stepsisters to town on her back if it meant she didn’t have to listen to their prattle.

      That’s a very judgmental thing for me to think, she reflected. The Lord makes us all different. I don’t like them criticizing me for keeping to myself so I shouldn’t criticize them for being so chatty.

      Since she was awake and dressed anyway, Lucy decided she’d make breakfast for the other women. They loved buttermilk pancakes and sausage, and a hot breakfast would hit the spot before they set out in the chilly November air. She set four places at the table, and just after she ladled the last scoop of batter onto the iron griddle, Mildred and Katura appeared in the doorway.

      “That smells appenditlich,” Mildred gushed.

      “But you shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. Especially not after being sick last night,” Katura protested, showing a rare concern for Lucy’s health.

      “It’s not a bother and, as I told you, I wasn’t ill,” she insisted as Betty ambled into the room.

      “Guder mariye,” she greeted the three young women. “What a treat to have pannekuche and wascht. What’s the special occasion? Did something happen last night you want to tell us about?”

      Lucy was taken aback by how blatantly Betty hinted she wanted to know more about why Nick had brought her home. Despite the fact most Willow Creek Amish youth kept their courtships to themselves, it was clear to Lucy this was one more way in which her stepsisters and stepmother abided by a different set of customs than Lucy did. She could never figure out if the difference was a matter of their personalities or if it was because they were from the Elmsville district, which was governed by a slightly more lenient Ordnung.

      “Jah, something did happen last night!” Mildred blurted out. “Nick Burkholder left the singing early to give Lucy a ride home. And we think we know why.”

      Even though Betty was already aware Nick had brought Lucy home, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why?”

      “He wants to court either Mildred or me. Probably me,” Katura said. Then she demanded, “Out with it, Lucy. Did he give you a message to give one of us?”

      It was one thing for Katura and Mildred to whisper about their theories when they thought she was asleep, but Lucy was dumbfounded they’d suggest right to her face Nick had brought her home only to inquire about them. No wonder they’d been so solicitous about her making breakfast—they were trying to flatter her. Maybe they were each hoping she’d put in a good word for them with Nick.

      “Neh, he didn’t mention either of you at all,” she said, sounding as complacent as she felt. She slid the final pancakes onto a platter. After placing the dish on the table, she sat down and asked, “Shall I say grace?”

      No sooner had she finished thanking the Lord for their food and asking Him to bless their day than Mildred coaxed, “You probably don’t want to make one of us feel bad, but we can’t stand not knowing who Nick’s interested in. Please tell us, Lucy.”

      Betty cleared her throat. “They’re right, Lucy. It isn’t fair of you to keep the girls on tenterhooks like this.”

      That was the last straw. “Okay, if you must know,” Lucy began, and Mildred leaned forward while Katura froze with her fork midair. “It’s me he’s interested in spending time with. In fact, he’s picking me up at six o’clock on Tuesday evening.”

      Katura lowered her utensil and Mildred slouched back against her chair again. Lucy almost felt sorry she’d crushed their hopes until Mildred waved her hand dismissively and said, “Okay then, don’t tell us the truth. We’ll find out eventually.”

      “But she has to tell us which one of us he wants to court,” Katura contradicted. “What if she convinces him I’m not interested? Or that you’re not interested? I don’t want her speaking on my behalf, do you?”

      “Lucy, you can’t—” Mildred began to whine.

      To Lucy’s surprise, Betty broke in. “If Lucy says Nick is interested in her, I think that’s nice, so stop pestering her. You two girls will have plenty of opportunities to socialize with all the Grischtdaag parties and events coming up anyway.” She reached over and patted Lucy’s hand and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell your daed about your new suitor. As long as you finish your household chores each day, I’m sure he won’t mind if you walk out with Nick at night.”

      Lucy wanted to retort that she always finished her chores and half of her stepsisters’ chores, too, but she was so grateful Betty had put an end to Mildred and Katura’s needling she let the remark slide.

      At least that part of the plan is accomplished, she thought. She couldn’t help but wonder if Nick was having as much difficulty convincing his family they were courting as she’d had convincing hers.