Leah's Choice (18 page)

“It’s lovely!” Leah called back.

Susanna and Irwin had made a new scarecrow to keep the blackbirds out of the strawberry patch. They’d taken old clothes, good for nothing but scrub cloths, stuffed them with straw, and plopped a ragged bonnet on top. Then Susanna had added sparkly streamers of aluminum foil and strung can lids to the broomstick that served as arms. It was a good scarecrow, and Leah didn’t know who was more pleased, Susanna or Irwin. It was Dat who’d taught his girls how to make scarecrows, and back in Pennsylvania, when he was a boy, Dat had made such funny ones that he’d been able to sell them to the English for their gardens.

Leah reached the edge of the strawberry patch and started picking near the scarecrow, in the next row over from her mother. The berries were fat and ripe, bursting with juice, and it was all Leah could do not to eat more than she put in her split-oak basket. What she had to tell her mother was daunting, and she concentrated on filling her container as she gathered her nerve.

For the past two days, Mam’s face had shown the worry she felt over Johanna’s disastrous marriage, but this morning, here in the garden with the birds singing and the sun shining, she looked years younger. And thinking of the possibility of her own marriage to Daniel, Leah wondered if Mam would ever take a new husband.

Thinking of her mother marrying someone was a little disturbing. However, it was expected. Few Old Amish widows in their forties remained widows for long, but it would take a lot of getting used to. With her daughters leaving to set up homes of their own, Mam and Susanna would soon need help running the farm. But she had her own way of doing things, and a new husband might bring as many problems as solutions.

Leah retrieved a particularly large cluster of strawberries and tried to think of the best way to approach her mother. Once she’d told Mam, there would be no going back, and maybe that was part of her reluctance. She did love Daniel. She was certain she did, but what she wasn’t sure of was her ability to leave home—to leave her family and her entire way of life to go off and be with someone else. The farm, her mother and sisters, even Irwin, would always be a part of her. What kind of a wife and partner would she be for Daniel? Was she doing the right thing for both of them? Doubts haunted the shadowy corners of her mind.

“You have something to say to me, daughter?” Mam asked, startling Leah so badly that she dropped a strawberry and it rolled into the center of the open space between the rows. “You’ve been following me around all morning with that guilty expression on your face.”

“Me?”

“Ya,”
Mam said. “You, Leah. You may be a woman grown, but in some ways you’ll never change. Remember when you poured the big crock of honey in Aunt Martha’s church bonnet?”

“I was four and I thought it would make her sweet,” Leah protested. So long as she lived, her sisters or Aunt Martha would never let her live it down.

“You may as well come clean. What have you done now?”

Leah glanced away, then back at her mother. “This is more serious than a child’s prank, Mam. It’s Daniel. Daniel Brown. We’re…we’re seeing each other.”

Mam set down her strawberry basket and straightened her back. “More than that, I’d say. And isn’t this a little late to be telling me?”

Leah felt the sting of her mother’s disapproval in her gaze. “You knew?”

“I knew. It isn’t like you, Leah, to sneak around. But a Mennonite boy? Have you thought what this would mean? Not just for you, but for our whole family? How your sisters will feel if anything comes of it?”

Leah looked at the ground, suddenly ashamed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said. “I just didn’t know that I’d feel this way about Daniel.”

“Is it serious? Has he asked to court you?”

Leah nodded. “He has…and I’ve said I would…let him, I mean.”

Her mother closed her eyes for a second and hugged herself, rubbing her arms with her fingertips. “I always wondered what I’d say if one of my girls came to me and said that,” she said. “I wondered, but I never had the answer. I still don’t.”

Leah raised her chin and looked her mother eye to eye. They were the same height. “I think I love him, Mam.”

“Love of a man is one thing, daughter. Living a lifetime with him is another. Daniel Brown is Mennonite. I know you’ve considered what that would mean.”

“A hundred times. Every waking minute.”

“And you think you could give up your faith for him?”

“Why shouldn’t she follow her heart, Mam?” Johanna walked from the grape arbor toward them. She didn’t seem shocked; her sister must have been standing only a few yards away, listening to their conversation.

“This is between Leah and me,” Mam chided. “You shouldn’t interfere.”

“Why not? She’s my sister, isn’t she? I owe her the wisdom of my experience, too.” Johanna turned to look into Leah’s face. “Do what’s right for you. If you don’t, you may live to regret it.”

“Johanna,” Mam said. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” Johanna cried emotionally. “Don’t say what we all know is the truth?”

“You’re upset,” Mam soothed. “Things are bad now between you and your husband, but—”

“I was a fool,” Johanna said. “I turned down the man I loved over a foolish misunderstanding. And now, I’ll never be happy again.” She took hold of Leah’s arm, tears filling her eyes. “Don’t make the same mistake. Daniel’s a good man. So what if he’s a Mennonite? Don’t they worship the same God? If you love him, marry him, Leah. Because the one thing you don’t want is to be tied into a marriage with the wrong man.”

* * *

Mam fussed, but in the end, she softened enough to invite Daniel to dinner that night. The meal was awkward, with long periods of silence and black looks from Rebecca and Ruth, but as the days passed, the family seemed to tolerate having Daniel among them. Leah continued to attend church with Mam and her sisters on alternate Sundays, but she also began to take part in Mennonite worship services, such as a weekly Bible school for adults. Daniel’s aunt and uncle were polite, if not enthusiastic, about the two of them keeping company.

“It will take time for them to accept us,” Daniel said soothingly. “All of them.”

Leah had her doubts. Her grandmother and Aunt Martha took no pains to hide their disapproval of the match, and Bishop Atlee became a regular visitor to the Yoder farm. Through it all, she and Daniel continued to volunteer for the food bank and to help with Amish work frolics, but generally, the Amish community—other than Leah’s immediate family and Samuel—ignored Daniel.

It wasn’t easy to be at odds with people she’d known and loved all her life, but the longer she and Daniel knew each other, the more Leah felt that he was right for her. Of her sisters, only Johanna—who remained at Mam’s with her children—seemed totally supportive of the romance.

“How long will you have together before you have to make a final decision?” Johanna asked, one afternoon when they were making strawberry jam. Susanna had taken Jonah and Katy outside to play, and Mam and Rebecca had gone next door to Ruth’s to help her and Miriam can asparagus.

“There’s no way to know,” Leah answered. “He expects to get word soon, though, and then he could be sent anywhere. It will probably be back to Spain or maybe even Mexico. Daniel speaks Spanish, and that would make working in a medical clinic easier for him and for his patients.”

Johanna used pot holders to transfer the hot jars of jam from the counter to a butcher-block table near the window to cool. So far, they had finished thirty-two pints, and the rows of ball jars shone like jewels in the afternoon sun.

“So, if you do marry him, you’ll have to go away for a long time?”

“It could be as long as a year.” Leah smiled at her sister. “I can’t imagine what it would be like—living in a foreign country and learning to cook and eat the different foods. But wherever we are, there will be a Mennonite community. It may be small, but we’ll be able to have our own worship services and celebrate holidays as if we were home.”

“So you have decided to marry him?” Johanna arched an auburn brow. “You’re certain?”

“Almost. Yes, I think I am.” She didn’t want to admit to Johanna that she was still hoping to hear God’s answer to her prayers loud in her ears. She thought she knew what God’s plan was for her—Daniel certainly was sure of it. But, so far, she hadn’t received any personal messages. Maybe it was prideful, but she was still waiting and listening. “Almost,” she repeated. “I know I love Daniel. It’s not Daniel, it’s me I still have doubts about.”

“You wonder if you have the courage to take a leap of faith,” Johanna said, speaking aloud the words Leah had been thinking.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Have you prayed about it? Asked for the Lord’s guidance?”

Leah nodded. “But…” She sighed. “I don’t think God has heard me.”

Johanna wiped her hands on her apron, went to the table, and began to write the date on the labels for the jars of jam. “He always hears us,” she said. “Sometimes, I think we don’t listen when He speaks to us.”

Leah approached the table and leaned on the back of a chair. Her sister’s writing was bold and clear as she used the permanent marker to fill in one pretty label after another. Leah and Rebecca had picked out the labels from a catalog, and they showed a basket overflowing with fruit. They made the ordinary canning jars look special and attracted customers at Spence’s.

“Why did you speak up to Mam for me?” Leah asked. “When I talked to you before…about Daniel, I thought you were warning me to stay away from him.”

Johanna’s blue eyes sparkled with moisture. “It was my duty as a big sister and a member of the church. If you had listened to me and decided not to see Daniel again, then your love for him wouldn’t have been more than a flirtation. But if you’re willing to go against all of us, he must be right for you.”

“Is that what I’m doing, Johanna? Going against my family?”

“Ne.”
Johanna smiled and shook her head. “Not me, and in the end, not Mam, either. Remember, she was born Mennonite. They must be good people if she was one of them. But I’ll expect to get letters from you every week with foreign stamps on them, letters that tell me everything you do and everything wonderful you see.”

“Thank you.” Leah hugged her. “You don’t know how much it means to me—to have you on my side.”

“We’re all on your side,” Johanna said. “It just depends on where you’re standing.” She rose. “Now, let’s get this jam put away and start on the birthday cakes for Aunt Jezzy. I think we’ll need four, at least.”

Leah nodded. “At least. Daniel and Irwin can eat a whole one between them. What kind are we making?”

“With all these strawberries?” Johanna shrugged. “Strawberry shortcake. What else?” Leah laughed and went to get the big sheet cake pans from the pantry.

The following day, Anna and Samuel,
Grossmama
, and the children, Aunt Martha, Uncle Reuben, and Dorcas, Roman and Fannie and their little ones, as well as Ruth and Miriam, Eli and Charley were all coming to share a birthday supper on the lawn. Samuel had put a pig on to roast over hot coals at six in the morning, and Anna was preparing baked beans and coleslaw. Charley and Eli were in charge of setting up tables and benches outside. Miriam was making a huge fruit salad, and Ruth had promised enough potato salad to feed the whole church.

Leah, Rebecca, Susanna and Johanna would cook the rest of the food this afternoon. Leah couldn’t wait to have Daniel enjoy a meal with her extended family. She was even looking forward to his meeting Aunt Martha. She was Aunt Jezebel’s niece, and could hardly be left out of the birthday party. Besides, maybe once Aunt Martha got to know him, she wouldn’t be so critical of their courting. It wasn’t likely, Leah thought, but you never knew. Mam kept saying that under her crusty exterior, Aunt Martha had a good heart. If that was true, her shell must be pretty tough.

As it happened, Aunt Martha didn’t come.

“Mam slipped in the wash water and pulled her back,” Dorcas explained. “She said to tell your mother and Aunt Jezzy that she’s sorry, but she thought it would be best if she just went to bed with a hot water bottle.”

“Ya,”
Uncle Reuben chimed on. “But she said be sure and bring her a plate. You know how she likes roast pork.”

“And she wants a big slice of birthday cake,” Dorcas finished. “Or two if you have extra. Her appetite isn’t quite what it used to be and she fancies a little cake now and then.”

Leah glanced at Johanna, and her sister rolled her eyes. It was all Leah could do not to giggle. Aunt Martha always said she wasn’t hungry, but Mam said Aunt Martha could eat more than Anna and Samuel put together, and she always wanted a plate of leftovers to take home. Not that anyone minded. Mam always had enough food to feed the county, and today was no exception.

Eli put Daniel to work helping with the tables, while Leah and her sisters carried out platters of food. Samuel brought his roast pig in his daughters’ pony cart and drove it right around to the grassy backyard. The pork smelled wonderful, almost as good as the bushel of yeast rolls that Fannie had baked that afternoon.

There was a bustle as Mam supervised the food, and Charley and Irwin carried out two armchairs for either end of the tables. One was for
Grossmama
, and the other for Aunt Jezebel. Leah’s aunt was as giggly as a girl. She kept saying that she couldn’t believe all this fuss was for her or that she was sixty years old today.

“I remember when I was ten,” she said excitedly. “My uncle took me fishing to a lake and we went in a boat. I caught the biggest fish and my mother cooked it for my supper.”

Eventually, everyone was seated, grace was finished, and the eating, laughing and talking began. Daniel sat directly across from Leah, between Eli and Charley, and it was hard for Leah to take a bite with him watching her.
He fits in,
she thought.
He may be different, but he fits in.
Here, for the first time, she could feel her family and friends slowly lowering the fences.

Halfway through the meal, Rebecca stood up and read a poem she had written about Aunt Jezebel. Aunt Jezzy’s face turned beet-red and she covered her face with her hands, but it was easy to see that she was pleased. Leah smiled at Mam, so glad that her mother had thought to honor Dat’s aunt’s special day. Not everyone understood Aunt Jezebel or knew how deeply she felt things. Some even said she was touched. It was true that she had her odd ways and that she’d never married. But Leah loved her.