Sarah's Garden (15 page)
“That’s fine, Doctor. I get your point.” Sarah’s voice was tight, and she had a burning vision of yanking Deborah Loder’s blonde hair and giving Anna Stolis a walk in a storm she’d not soon forget. She slapped a half-eaten pinecone in her basket, then turned toward the grapevines that Father grew near the creek.
She drew a deep, shaky breath and realized that she was jealous. She ’d never felt the emotion with such intensity before, and the overwhelming feeling of the sin nearly made her sick at her stomach. She was jealous of others spending time with a friend, which made her the least desirable of friends. She didn’t deserve to spend time with him herself; she needed to go home.
She’d just turned again when she caught his blue eyes regarding her amusedly while he snacked on late black raspberries. The dawning awareness that he was teasing her did nothing to slow her from gritting her teeth and swinging her basket in an unladylike arc back over her arm. She shook her head at him, then turned to go, wanting to stomp but deciding she’d not give him the satisfaction.
He caught her arm, then jumped back a step when she swung her basket at him. “Don’t forget, Doctor, that there were three brothers before you who really liked to tease a little sister. Stay back, or you may find yourself in need of your own care.”
“I thought the Amish were against violence,” he replied in an injured tone, and she ignored the pulling in her heart at his cajoling.
“I’m going home, Doctor. Good afternoon.”
“There’s only one girl I want to take for a ride in my car, Sarah King, and in your heart, you know that.” His voice stopped her. It was true. She knew it. He cared about her. She had the power to make him care more, without regard to the future. She turned, trembling, to face him.
“I do know it,” she whispered, her anger fast melting into unwanted tears. “I don’t want to know. I cannot. It’s not done.”
“What’s not done?”
“Now you know what I mean.” She swallowed hard. “An Amish and an
Englischer
. . . as more than friends. It’s not done.”
The smile left his eyes and he stared at her. “How could it be done, then?”
S
arah . . . Sarah King? Have you chosen? I’ve don’t have all day.”
The impatient voice of Mrs. Stolis echoed through the crowded dry goods store as Sarah stared at the bolts of fabric for the twelfth time. She could not forget her conversation yesterday with the doctor in the woods. She hadn’t answered him; she couldn’t. Somehow she had led herself into an intimate talk with an
Englisch
man she barely knew, and she knew that she had to stop it. The Bible said to “flee from temptation.” And so she had fled, losing him through the tree-and shrub-lined paths until she was back at the farm and hidden in prayer by her own bed.
She’d pled to
Mamm
that her stomach was upset when she ’d been called to come and help with dinner.
Mamm
had allowed that she was ill, and Sarah did not feel that she ’d harbored a lie since her stomach was truly knotted in anxiety. She ’d fallen into a restless sleep, dreaming that she was running through the woods being chased by herself.
And today she’d woken and dressed, forgetting that it was the day of her birth until she ’d come downstairs, intent upon slipping into the garden for her dawn rendezvous, when she saw
Mamm
in the kitchen beating a bowl of frothy whiteness with a wooden spoon.
Guder mariye
, Sarah. May the Lord bless you on your birthday.
Wie geht’s
?”“
“I’m much better,
Mamm
,
danki
. I—I had forgotten that it was my birthday.”
Mamm
laughed. “I did not. It’s been twenty-one years since I carried you, and I still remember your coming . . . in the garden, of course, right in the middle of picking berries for jam. The midwife said we ’d found you under the blackberry leaves instead of the cabbage . . . your head was stained purple for two weeks where I touched you.”
“I love that story.”
“
Jah
, and you will also love your gift from Luke today. He ’s going to watch the stand so that you and I may have a free afternoon to ourselves.”
“
Ach
,
Mamm
, really?”
“
Jah
, your father agrees.”
Sarah had smiled her gratitude and smelled the batter for her cake. Then she ’d slipped away to the garden to pray but had not found peace. Her thoughts were too jumbled to center properly on
Der Herr
. And now she stood before the bolts of fabric thinking how well the aqua blue would make up a shirt for the doctor.
“Sarah! If you’re not going to choose, then let me go ahead,” Deborah Loder snapped, shifting her wicker basket. “I want to buy that sky blue for a new blouse.”
“Which would look lovely with your hair,” Sarah remarked glumly.
Deborah looked at a loss for a moment, then went on in a kinder tone. “
Danki
, Sarah. May I go ahead?”
“
Jah
, please do.”
Sarah sighed and drifted back to where
Mamm
was examining some small teaberry candies for cookie toppings. It had been
Mamm
’s idea to come to the Stolises’ dry goods store as a celebration of Sarah’s birthday. Sarah still had all of the money she’d earned from the stand, and
Mamm
had thought it a nice idea if Sarah might buy herself some fabric for a new blouse. Her wine-colored one was getting worn, but the colors of the materials had swum in bland unison unless she was matching them against a pair of blue-gold eyes.
“I need nonpareils and dried teaberries for those sugar cookies the boys like. Should I get both today? And, Sarah, where is your fabric?”
“I could not choose.”
Mamm
shot her a sharp glance. “Are you still ill, child?”
“
Nee
,
Mamm
.”
“Yet you are not yourself. I think that . . .”
She was interrupted by the bang of the screen door and the appearance of Mr. Loder, who looked sheepishly around at the cluster of women. He nodded to his daughter and cleared his throat.
“Word is that they’ve sent for the midwife over at John Kemp’s farm.”
Sarah clutched her mother’s arm in excitement; Chelsea’s baby must be coming! Mr. Loder left in the same abrupt manner, his duty done, and the women began to buzz about
Mamm
and Sarah as they were hustled to the front of the store to complete their purchases.
“Are we going to Chelsea’s,
Mamm
?” Sarah asked in a low tone as they finished paying.
“
Jah
, we will
geh
. . .”
Sarah had to grab her mother’s basket, which she left on the counter, and then scurried to loosen Shadow’s tether as
Mamm
appeared ready to take flight, post and all.
Sarah held on as they navigated around the other buggies at the store, then set out at a good trot.
“If Mr. Loder knows, then Father and the boys will know too.” Sarah’s heart pumped with excitement. “
Jah
, they will know by now.”
Sarah realized the truth of this as word spread fast through the fields where the telephone houses were permitted to be used for good reason, and childbirth was considered reason enough as the community rejoiced in each new life.
It was warm, and the confines of the closed buggy seemed hotter than usual as they took to the high road. After a moment of studying
Mamm
’s tense profile, Sarah laid her hands over her mother’s on the reins.
“Please,
Mamm
. . . let me drive. You’re worried.”
Mamm
gave the reins over with a sigh and leaned back in the buggy.
“
Danki
, Sarah. You are a good girl. I know that all will be well, and that
Der Herr
is in charge, but it seems . . . I can remember Chelsea being as tall as a footstool and today she’s giving birth . . .”
Mamm
wiped at her face with a clean handkerchief. Sarah clicked to Shadow who, she knew, was already doing his very best. The most a horse and buggy could travel was eight miles an hour, and the Kemp farm was some ten miles west of the Stolises’ store.
Sarah was concentrating on the road and the passing
Englisch
vehicles when she heard an automobile coming up fast from behind. The red sports car sped past and pulled onto the dirt off-road about an eighth of a mile ahead.
Mamm
made a surprising sound of relief in her throat, as Sarah’s heart began to pound even more furiously.
She had no idea what to say to the doctor and could not delay the moment as Shadow’s fine feet took the distance in no time. Sarah turned the buggy off the road where the doctor and her brother, James, stood waiting outside the car.
James caught Shadow’s bridle and scratched the horse ’s nose while the doctor hurried to help
Mamm
down from the buggy.
“I heard the news of your daughter, Mrs. King. I thought maybe I could help with a ride. Your husband agreed and sent James to take Shadow and the buggy back.”
Ach
. . . this is good. Thank you, Dr. Williams.”
Mamm
smiled “warmly at him for the first time, Sarah noted with satisfaction.
The doctor offered a hand to Sarah, and she touched him lightly as she jumped down but did not meet his gaze.
Mamm
had approached the automobile and stood waiting by the passenger door. The doctor hurried to open it for her and held her arm as she slung herself into the low seat.
James laughed aloud. “
Ach, Mamm
. . . if only you could see yourself. I wish Father were here. You look right at home!”
Mamm
shot him a dark look. “Stop your foolishness, James King.
Ich kam sell neh geh
—I cannot tolerate that!”
“Indeed,” the doctor rejoined. “Your mother is very brave to ride in a sports car . . . and your sister, of course.”
He’d gone around to the driver’s side and levered back his seat to reveal the miniscule back interior and swept his hand before him with a gallant air.
“Please, Miss King, if you will.”
Sarah hurried to move, but her skirts got caught on the door and he bent to loosen them while she pulled at the fabric in embarrassment. He leaned close enough for only her to hear. “Miss King—in my car. Why does this subject seem familiar?” He straightened and Sarah met his eyes for the first time, finding them dancing in amusement. She let out a sigh of exasperation and jumped into the back, uncaring of the ball she ’d made of her skirts. The doctor began to whistle and put his seat back, folding his long body to fit behind the wheel.
Sarah felt as trapped as a mouse and tried to shift her weight.
“Seat belts, ladies. If you don’t mind.” He helped
Mamm
fasten the belt and cast a look in the back. Sarah was ready for him and had the belt snapped despite the fact that it tightened in the jumble of her clothing. He met her gaze in the rearview mirror and she knew he was smiling, so she turned her head to study James as he gave them a happy wave.
Sarah watched
Mamm
’s aged hands tighten on the low dashboard as the doctor pulled out.
They made it onto the high road, and Sarah began to enjoy the quick, fluid movement of the vehicle and the almost purr-like sound of the engine as the miles to the Kemp farm flashed by in a whirl of colored trees, harvesting neighbors, and the backdrop of the rolling mountains. Sarah had to suppress a giggle as Mr. Zook gave the car a second glance from his perch on the corn harvester, surprise etched on his face to see
Mamm
in the passenger seat.
Mamm
took it in stride and raised a passing hand in salute while Sarah looked around to see the man’s expression of disbelief.
The Kemp farm came into sight, and Sarah thought how pretty it was with its rows of maple trees lining the dirt drive and the farmhouse’s white gables and light green shutters. She ’d only visited the farm once before, shortly after Chelsea’s wedding. The young couple had moved into the main house and John Kemp’s mother had moved into the small
doddy
or grandparent house as was the custom when there was an only son who married.
The doctor pulled up before the steps and then hurried around the car front to help
Mamm
out. Sarah tried to fool with the seat lever but could not make it move, so she waited and watched
Mamm
take to the steps. Dr. Williams came back to Sarah’s side and moved the seat lever to release her. She clambered from the back, ignoring his outstretched hand.
“Miss King,” he chided. “Is this my thanks for the ride?”
Sarah craned her neck to look up at him and her
kapp
, which had lost a few pins in her exiting the car, blew off in a gust of wind. She gasped and reached to cover her head while he stretched long fingers to catch the delicate thing by its strings.
“Please,” Sarah gasped, her slender fingers unable to contain the massed bun of blonde hair and its stubborn strands. She felt him put the
kapp
back on her head, and she grasped it with relief, pulling tightly on the strings. She saw him bend down to the ground, gathering stray pins, and she waited, feeling miserable.
“Here you go.” He handed her the pins and she took them, haphazardly stabbing them into her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, starting to move to the steps.
He caught her arm. “Wait . . . why are you sorry?”
She stopped, still holding her hands to her hair. “Because it’s sinful to let any man see my hair unbound, except my husband.”
“Your hair is beautiful.”
She shook her head and pulled away, running up the steps and inside the screen door, letting it slam with finality.
G
rant sighed and turned back to the car, intent on leaving. He felt sadly out of step with the slip of a girl who’d changed his world over the last months, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He heard the squeak of the screen door, and he looked up hopefully.
A young Amish man with coal black hair and a neat, curling beard stepped outside. He was visibly distraught but came down the steps with a hand outstretched.