Where Love Grows (31 page)

O
n Sunday morning, Steve lowered his head against the wind as he shook hands with the long line of men standing beside the barn, all the while hanging on to his hat as the early morning gusts sailed across the barnyard.

“Doesn't look like it'll rain,” one of the men offered.

“No, I don't think so either,” Steve agreed.

“Silo filling's up for this week,” another added.

Steve nodded, taking his place at the end of the line. The murmur of the conversation rose and fell around him. Other men came down the line to shake his hand, muttering the occasional “
gut
morning” to him.

Steve watched as Menno pulled in with his surrey. He stopped at the end of the walk, and Anna climbed out. Moments later Susan came from the other side of the buggy, and the two women went up the sidewalk. Their shawls moved with the wind, the flayed ends flapping as the two clung to their bonnets. With their heads turned sideways against the wind, they disappeared into the washroom.

Would Susan be among the new baptismal class this morning? Steve wondered. All week he had wanted to ask what her plans were. Perhaps tell her of his feelings for her. Hoping that if he did, his words might influence her to take the final step. But this couldn't be done that way. Not if he wanted to live with himself. Not if he wanted to trust her completely. He must see what Susan chose on her own with no influence from him.

And there were plenty of reasons why Susan might choose otherwise. She had already been out in the
Englisha
world once, and now she had plenty of reason to do so again. Thomas had dumped her. Her
daett
and
mamm
were in the
bann
. He was close enough to the family to see how much it was hurting all of them.

Menno's drawn face after communion still lingered in his mind. The man seemed to have aged years in those few hours, his back stooped even more after the service ended. Likely Menno hadn't missed partaking in a communion service since he was baptized—unless for a bodily illness, but not for reasons of his soul. And Menno's heart had clearly gone out of the farmwork. Oh, he came out every morning as always, but the strain showed.

Steve had done what he could to show his intentions to Susan these past few weeks without revealing too much. The woman had attracted him from the time Menno had taken him on as his hired man. But she had been dating Thomas then. And he wouldn't have even considered interfering with another man's relationship. Plus, Susan hadn't noticed him. At least not in that way.

But now with the double blows of Thomas and her
mamm
and
daett
's
bann
, perhaps he should have moved in at once and made his feelings known. Any normal man would have done so. But he was much too cautious. And this time he might have waited too long. What if Susan didn't join in the instruction class this morning? Would he always wonder if he should have done this differently?

He could have asked Susan home officially from the hymn singing after Thomas dropped her instead of just giving her the little ride on that one night. But he hadn't. Was it because he hung on to some obstinate conviction about doing things the right way? What if he lost Susan? The one girl who had finally caught his full attention?

“You'll have to settle down someday,” his
mamm
had told him many times, but he had never wanted to. Until now. Not that he had that much to offer a girl. He wasn't outgoing like Thomas. He couldn't crack a joke after church and have the young boys roll on the benches in mirth. He ought to have settled for the first girl who would take him, but he hadn't. He had held out for something. And now he knew what it was. Rather,
who
it was—Susan Hostetler. The bright, sunny, smart girl who had spent time in the
Englisha
world.

“Bachelors turn weird after a while,” his
mamm
had warned. “Old and tattered and messed up in the head. You need a woman to soften your edges, Steve. Do you want me to pick one for you? Or I can get your sisters to ask a girl for you.”

He had laughed and ignored her.
Mamms
were made to be ignored; at least when one became a certain age and on certain subjects. Instead, he had prayed about a wife. But nothing had happened. Except he had received an offer to be a hired hand for Menno Hostetler in a neighboring county.

Taking the job with Menno had seemed more a choice made out of boredom than anything else. His
daett
no longer needed his help at home with the younger brothers coming up. But there would have been many things for him to do in Daviess County other than farming. Jobs that paid better money than Menno offered. But he didn't want to leave farming.

Was this the hand of
Da Hah
guiding him? Placing him in the right place at the right time? Then why was he wasting time with waiting? Susan belonged in the community. He didn't need more evidence. Look at how she had been holding up under all the pressure. Standing by the side of her
mamm
and
daett
during their time of suffering. Sure there had been the stories he'd heard. Stories of Susan's travels in the
Englisha
world. Stories of Susan dating
Englisha
men. But they were stories. And even if true, they were likely exaggerated. He shifted on his feet as he stood in the line of men.

Had Susan really gone out to fancy restaurants with an
Englisha
man? Had she spoken of love with him? It seemed so impossible, so completely different from what she was. And yet it could have happened. The signs were there in the way Susan freely threw her head back when she laughed in those moments at the supper table when a faraway look crept into her eyes. It was there in the way she drove her buggy at times—with a touch of recklessness, pushing the horse hard.

Steve shoved his thoughts away long enough to shake another hand and mutter, “
Gut
morning.” He must get himself out of this frame of mind. Was this how love affected people? Causing them to wander in their mind? If it did, he must be deeply in love the way his mind was going all morning. Tensed up and all emotional about a girl. His
mamm
would be smiling from ear to ear if she knew and getting her hopes up. But the big question remained. Would Susan go along to the baptismal class this morning? If she did, he would ask her home from the hymn singing tonight.

He took a deep breath at the thought. Susan wouldn't be surprised, would she? Somehow he figured she already knew. Indeed, she probably was waiting for him to make up his mind. Well, today it would be made up one way or the other.

Steve jerked his head toward the main road as a buggy came racing in the driveway. Someone driving a surrey with a sharp, peppy horse was a little late. What would a man with a family be doing with such a horse?

A smile broke across Steve's face as the buggy dashed up to the walk. The driver was James Troyer. Teresa already had a child, so James must have invested early in a surrey, expecting other children to follow soon.

Teresa was climbing out of the back, her shawl wrapped around the little boy in her arms. A gust of wind caught Teresa's bonnet and sent it flying back so it was hanging by the strings tied under her chin. James jumped out of the buggy and took the child in his arms while Teresa got her bonnet back on her head. He had left the lines inside the buggy, and there was no way such a wild horse would stand alone without a tight hand on the reins. Someone must still be inside. The Troyers had visitors this morning?

James climbed back inside the buggy and waited for a moment until Teresa arrived safely at the washroom door. He then let out the reins and the horse lunged forward. As he drove closer, the visitor's face and shirt became visible through the windshield. A young
Englisha
man? Who could he be? He must be from Teresa's side of the family. Perhaps one of her mother's friends.

When James pulled to a stop, the visitor climbed out of the buggy and briefly fumbled with the tugs on his side, obviously wanting to help but clearly not knowing his way around horses and buggies. Steve smiled and ran forward to offer his help. But another boy was already holding the shafts for James when he arrived.

“
Gut
morning!” Steve offered his hand to the
Englisha
man. Behind him, James dashed toward the barn, hanging on to his prancing horse.

“Good morning!” The man smiled. He turned his head sideways as the wind blew through his hair. “Kind of gusty out in the country this morning.”

“
Yah
, it is. Feels like a storm blowing up. But Mullet over there claims it won't rain. I guess his old bones have been right more often than wrong.”

The
Englisha
man laughed. He was tall, handsome, and dashing. Exactly the sort of man Susan might have gone out with in the
Englisha
world. Surely Susan didn't know this man. After all, he hadn't arrived with the Hostetler family.

“Robby's the name,” the man said.

Steve put out his hand. “Steve Mast's my name.”

“So this is where you have church?” Robby looked over the gathered men. “Susan said yesterday I was welcome to attend. But I couldn't make up my mind until this morning. Thanks for giving me a welcome right away.”

“Susan?” Steve was staring. “You know Susan?”

“Quite well,” Robby said. “She stayed with us while she was in Asbury Park. Well, not really at our house, except for the last few weeks. The rest of the time she rented the apartment above my mom's bakery.”

“I see.” Steve swallowed hard. “Are you visiting?”

“I've been visiting my aunt in Livonia,” Robby said. “I thought I'd stop by since I know Teresa and Susan. Teresa offered me a ride to the service this morning, and I accepted.

“When did you arrive?”

“Yesterday.”

“Are you staying long?”

“Well, I hope to spend more time with Susan before I leave. Catch up on old times. Teresa said perhaps she could have Susan and me over for supper on Monday night. I really can't stay longer than that.”

“I see.” Steve cleared his throat. He motioned with his head toward Bishop Henry, who was leading the long line of men to the front-porch door. “It's time for church to start. You can follow me in if you wish. Sit with us young men, even if you're married.”

“Oh, I'm not married,” Robby said. “Am I allowed to sit with the girls?”

He must be joking! Steve thought, glancing over at him. The man clearly had a twinkle in his eye.

“I might get you a seat with the married women,” Steve replied. “I think they'd trust you there.”

Robby laughed. “I like you people, that's for sure. You have a great sense of humor. Susan always was like that. I had more fun with her than I've had with almost any girl I've known.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked. But he didn't wait for an answer as he blended into the line of young men, Robby staying close behind him. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer to that question.

Robby stayed with Steve as they moved toward the house. Steve's mind raced with questions. When had Robby been at the Hostetler place? He hadn't worked on the farm yesterday afternoon. Was that when Robby arrived?
Englisha
cars came and went all day because Anna was still selling the last of her garden produce, so Steve wouldn't have noticed even though he worked on the farm. Surely nothing was unusual here. Susan wouldn't do anything inappropriate, would she? Of course not. He had to keep believing that. Robby couldn't have been the man she used to go out with in the
Englisha
world. He wouldn't dare walk in here like this, as if nothing was wrong if that were the case.

Steve followed the line of boys into the living room, sliding sideways on the hard bench as he sat down. He took several deep breaths, trying not to look toward the girls section. Abe Troyer's house was warm this morning, and sweat beads crept out under his shirt collar.

When the first song was announced, Bishop Henry stood up and led the line of ministers upstairs. Two boys got up to follow, and three girls after that. Steve forced himself to look. He had to know if Susan was among them. At least that would supply some comfort. His gaze caught sight of her familiar face, with her head bowed low and her gaze on the floor, leading the girls upstairs. So he had judged Susan's character correctly. He let out a sigh of relief. But why was this Robby guy sitting beside him?