Following Your Heart (24 page)

T
hree weeks later on a Saturday evening, Yost Byler drove south along the gravel roads, allowing his horse to take his time. At each stop sign the horse lingered, hanging its head before Yost slapped the reins again. What was it going to be like, he wondered, to actually speak to the
Englisha
girl? Not that Teresa was
Englisha
anymore. She had been through two instruction classes now, and looked very Amish in the dresses Susan and Anna made for her.

Still, she was an
Englisha
girl. And with that knowledge came fears, even though he was determined to marry her. What if after the vows were said she decided to up and leave him like many of the
Englisha
women left their husbands? There could even be children by then, many of them, since he was an old man and she was a young woman. He would lose them all besides losing his wife. Didn't
Englisha
women always take the children with them when they left home?

Yost combed his beard with his fingers, holding the reins with the other hand. Well… things didn't look too comforting, but neither did his present state. Marriage to an Amish girl wasn't going to happen, so he might as well take this chance. And Teresa was
gut
-looking, much too
gut
-looking for him, but that could not be helped. He would have to be thankful for what
Da Hah
had sent him.

Yost combed his beard again. Teresa was still a little skinny. No doubt she was hanging on to some of her
Englisha
eating habits. But this was nothing that good Amish cooking and a couple of children couldn't take care of. That was, if Teresa could cook.

His fingers stopped combing his beard. Surely Anna and Susan would be teaching the
Englisha
girl the ways of the community? A wife who couldn't cook would be too awful to even think about. His hands grew cold at the very thought.

And what about how young Teresa was? Teresa would be bearing children for many years. Would it be wise to have a wife who was still bearing children when he could no longer farm the land? They would starve once he could no longer work. Yost pushed the thoughts away and slapped the reins. These were things
Da Hah
would have to take care of. He was going to marry the girl.

Ahead of him, Menno and Anna's farm came into view. No one knew he was coming, but they surely expected him. It was, after all, Saturday evening, and the time for these things. Work would be slowing down on the farm in preparation for tomorrow's day of rest. Teresa would have time to speak with him.

He should have waited longer perhaps, but there were many things to speak of with their wedding coming up so quickly. He drew his breath in. How fast
Da Hah
worked once His will was understood. Yost really had nothing to offer but thanks even with his many fears. Turning into the Hostetler driveway, he pulled up to the hitching post and climbed down.

It would not be wise to unhitch, Yost decided. That could look like he wanted to stay for supper—which he did—but one didn't go asking for an invitation. This was his first visit, and he hardly knew the
Englisha
girl. He should not be staying long. Taking the rope out from under the seat, he tied the horse to the wooden crossbar.

The washroom door behind him opened, and Yost nearly lost his hat turning around. Menno was walking across the yard toward him, a slight smile on his face.

“
Gut
evening,” Menno greeted him.

“
Gut
evening,” Yost said. “Nice weather tonight.”

“
Yah
,” Menno said. “And if it holds, I ought to get my plowing done this week.”

Yost looked around, “Are you still taking care of the farm on your own?”

Menno laughed. “I'm afraid so. I've been waiting on Susan and Thomas…but you know how young people are these days. They can't make up their minds. In our day and time we would have had the vows said a long time ago.”

Yost cleared his throat, his mind on other things than Menno and his trouble with Susan. “Is the
Englisha
girl available to speak to? I was thinking it is time she and I spoke with each other.”

“I don't suppose Deacon Ray would have any objections, what with her attending instruction classes,” Menno said.

“Has the girl been speaking of doubts?” Alarm flashed across Yost's face.

“No doubts,” Menno said shaking his head. “Teresa seems to have fully made up her mind. I must say you will be getting a
gut
wife. The girl is learning our ways rather quickly.”

“Has she been…learning to cook?” Yost asked, staring at Menno's face.

“I can't say that I've been keeping track,” Menno chuckled. “But she spends time in the kitchen with Susan and Anna. I suppose she's helping cook. You wouldn't be worried, now would you?”

Yost swallowed hard. “I was just thinking, that's all.”

“She couldn't do worse than your own, now could she?” Menno teased.

“I guess not,” Yost agreed. “But she is an
Englisha
girl.”

“I wouldn't worry about Teresa,” Menno said, slapping Yost on the shoulder. “But why am I jabbering with you? I'm sure Teresa will come out if you take a seat on the swing over there.”

“I'll do that,” Yost said, watching Menno's back as he went inside. Yost walked up to the porch. The swing creaked as he placed his weight on it, holding the seat steady with his feet.

Yost turned to look across Menno's open fields. Happy thoughts ran through his mind. With his marriage to Teresa, he would fatten up in the years ahead until these porch springs not only squeaked but groaned when he sat down. Wasn't that what happened to married men? With even half decent cooking around it would also happen to him. He would grow old with his middle swelling from added pounds.

There would be cherry and apple pies. Perhaps the
Englisha
girl could even learn how to make shoofly pie. Although that could be expecting a lot. Fresh bread on Saturdays would be enough to be thankful for. Of course all of this would cost more in groceries. He would have to work the farm a little harder, but it would be worth every effort. Perhaps the back field could be plowed this spring yet, and a large garden begun. Yost smiled, looking out across Menno's fields.

“Good evening,” Teresa's voice said behind him, and Yost jumped to his feet.

“
Gut
evening,” he said, extending his hand.

What else was there to do, he wondered. How did one greet an
Englisha
girl, especially one that was to be your
frau?

“I'm glad you came to visit.” Teresa shook his hand.

Her touch was soft. That wasn't
gut
. Amish women's hands were toughened by hard work. But perhaps he was jumping to conclusions too quickly. Teresa hadn't been in the community long, and might not have had time to show the effects of her hard work.

“I thought it was time we spoke,” Yost said, sitting down again. She lowered herself onto the swing beside him.

“Was it a nice drive down in your buggy?” Teresa asked, with a warm smile. “It's been beautiful weather all week.”

“
Yah
, it has.” Yost cleared his throat. “It makes for good working conditions in the fields.”

“Where is your farm located?” Teresa asked. “Susan said it was north of here.”

“It's on the edge of the community,” he said. “Land is cheaper up there, but not by much. I hope it's not someplace you don't wish to live. I mean, our people like to live close by each other.”

Teresa's cheeks blushed, but Yost didn't take his eyes off of her face. This was an important question, he figured. But surely Teresa wouldn't be putting on airs, wanting to live in a more convenient place?

“It doesn't matter where I live, Yost,” Teresa said smiling again. “Just as long as it's part of the community.”

“Oh it is,” Yost said. “It's only a little inconvenient.”

“I'm used to inconvenient,” Teresa said. “Were you born here in the community?”

“
Yah
,” Yost said, leaning back on the swing. “
Mamm
and
Daett
used to live here, but they have moved away to a community in Iowa. I decided to stay. Most of my brothers and sisters also have stayed. I guess we like it around here.”

“I'll have to meet your family sometime,” Teresa said giving him a quick sideways glance.

Yost smiled. The girl was definitely on the right track with things. She already wished to meet his family.

“We have our reunions once in a while,” he said. “And there's Sundays of course. At the church services.”

“Perhaps Susan can point them out sometime,” she said.

Silence settled on them, broken only by the soft squeak of the swing. It was time they got down to talking about what was most important. Yost cleared his throat.

“I hope you understand about you and me—how this arrangement came to be,” he said. “I know that you are an
Englisha
girl, and that your people do things differently. So perhaps I should ask you to marry me like they might do it.”

“It is a little different around here,” Teresa said, not looking at him.

“Are you willing then to
wed
me on the day of your baptism?” he asked. “I know Menno has already asked you, and that is
gut
enough for me—if you don't wish to answer.”

Teresa sat unmoving, her hands clasped in her lap. “Is this how your people ask each other to wed?”

“I don't know,” he said. “I have never asked a woman to wed me.”

“I see.” She raised her eyes to his face. “And are you asking me now, even when I have already given my answer?”

“
Yah
, I thought this might make it easier for you,” he said. “Perhaps if we should speak of this to each other, instead of through others.”

“It would be best if we didn't do things through others anymore,” Teresa agreed. “And I am agreeing to wed you on my baptismal day.”

Yost stared off across the plowed fields, his eyes taking in each clod of turned dirt, lingering on the rich darkness of
Da Hah
's great creation. This was so much easier than he had ever imagined. All that work he had put into traveling to other communities. All that work trying to get widows and old maids to allow him to take them home from the hymn singing. Now here was an
Englisha
girl, agreeing to be his
frau
the first time he spoke with her. Surely
Da Hah
's compassion had finally reached him.

“There is only one requirement that I have,” Teresa said, her voice jerking him out of his thoughts.

“
Yah
, what is that?” he asked.

“That you must accept my son, Samuel, as your own,” she said. “That you raise him as an Amish boy and give him your name. I don't know how such things are done, but I've been here long enough to know that a strange name among the Amish will raise questions. I want him growing up without any doubt in people's minds as to who his father is.”

Yost didn't think long.

“
Yah
, that is possible,” he said. “I have no objections to such a request.”

“Even with what you know about me?” she asked. “That I have been with a man, and borne a child by him? This does not bother you?”

Why did the
Englisha
girl have to speak so plainly? Already there was red creeping up his neck at such open thoughts, but she was to be his
frau
and likely she didn't know any better.

“I have accepted the will of
Da Hah
,” he said after a few seconds. “If Deacon Ray and Bishop Henry approve of your baptism, then I will also agree. None of us are without sin, and
Da Hah
is always merciful.”

She nodded. “I wished to hear the words from you. Remember, we are not to speak through others anymore.”