Where Love Grows (9 page)

“So was Teresa in love with this Yost? Did he dump her? I have a hard time imagining that. And she's never had much of a thing for older guys.”

“No,” Susan said. “Yost called off their relationship for…um…‘ personal reasons,' shall we say.”

“You need to be more specific than that, Susan. Teresa's my daughter, and I think I have a right to know what happened. And what was Teresa doing with him in the first place?”

“Okay, but please don't tell
Mamm
this. I never told anyone else, and neither has Teresa, that I know of. The only reason I know is because I was with Teresa the day we went to clean his house. That's when Yost told Teresa their age difference was simply too much for him. That he didn't want her bearing children far into his old age. Now, I'm not sure that was his real reason, but that's what he told us.”

“That's funny.” Maurice burst out laughing. “Why was the old fogy dating her in the first place?”

“They never really dated. They talked to each other a few times. You know how badly Teresa wanted to join the community. She was willing to do anything to accomplish that for baby Samuel's sake.”

“It still makes no sense to me,” Maurice whacked at some spiderwebs spun around a beam.

“I guess I'll have to tell you our secrets.” Susan sighed. “There was quite an uproar when Teresa first came—about her having a child without a husband.”

“I'm not surprised. I always thought Teresa's desire was a wild goose chase. But she had her heart set on her dream.”

“The solution one of the ministers came up with was to have Teresa accept Yost's offer to marry her—once she was baptized, of course.”

“Sort of nip any problems in the bud?”

“I guess,” Susan said. “I'm sure you think this sounds old-fashioned and unfair.”

“And Teresa went along with the plan?” Maurice wasn't sweeping any longer.

“Much too willingly, I thought. I guess she didn't think she had any choice if she wanted Samuel to be raised among the Amish. Even after the ministers saw how sincere Teresa was and backed off the marriage requirement, Teresa stuck with the plan. And then James stood up for Teresa, which upset his father. James's father is a deacon. He objected so strongly to James and Teresa's budding feelings for each other that Teresa was even more determined to avoid trouble by sticking with her plans to marry Yost.”

“Oh, the ways of mice and men,” Maurice muttered. “But I can't blame anybody really. I suppose an unwed girl coming in from the outside with a child in tow could seem to threaten your way of life.”

“At least it got worked out satisfactorily,” Susan said. “And Teresa's faith is awesome! She really trusts God. She's been a great example to me…and to all of us.”

“You can sure say that! Even to her old mother.” Maurice stopped to wipe cobwebs from her face. “I'm glad to see Teresa happy and living among such sincere people.”

“We're not perfect,” Susan assured her.

“You try to be,” Maurice said. “That goes a long way with me. So what is this old man like? He must not be too bad for Teresa to tolerate him.”

“She's a saint, remember?”

“I'll still be looking forward to meeting the old fogy. He must be something.”

Susan laughed. “His house took about as much cleaning as these beams are taking. His place was a major mess, and he desperately wanted a wife to cook and clean for him. That was about the list of requirements. Trouble is, no Amish women wanted him. Sometimes that happens with certain people. They develop a reputation—justified or otherwise—and never quite succeed in shaking it. At least Yost finally has found someone, from what it sounds like anyway.”

Just then Teresa jerked open the barn door and paused for her eyes to adjust before exclaiming, “I can't believe you're out here, Mom, cleaning barn beams for my wedding.”

“It's good exercise,” Maurice said. “And I had to get away from all those women with their Betty Crocker cooking skills. I was ready to burst into tears from shame.”

“Mom, you don't have to impress anyone,” Teresa said.

“Well, I have to do something. I didn't come here to just sit around while others work hard on your wedding preparations.”

Teresa stared across the barn before taking a few steps forward. “Come over here, Mom. I want you to see where James and I will be getting married.”

Maurice followed Teresa with a puzzled look on her face.

“We're going to stand right
here
,” Teresa said, stopping to motion with her hand. “The barn doors will be open, the sunlight will be flooding in on people's backs. There will be women seated over on this side, and men seated over there. The little boys on the front rows there and little girls on the front rows here. Everyone will be looking at us! The bishop will take our hands, asking us the sacred vows. Then we will be man and wife forever, as long as both of us shall live. These people believe in what we'll be promising. Only death will ever separate us in this world, Mom.”

“That's very wonderful,” Maurice agreed. “I'm glad I'm here to experience your dream with you. You inspire me, Teresa.”

Teresa blushed, answering only after a long moment. “It's God who worked it all out, Mom. I don't take any of the credit. Even I never dreamed of this. Just having Samuel grow up with an Amish father would have been enough for me.”

“Sweetheart,” Maurice said, taking Teresa's hand, “only the best is good enough for you. God knows I could never give it to you. Come, give your old mom a hug.”

Teresa's face beamed as she wrapped her arms around her mother. “You're not that old, Mom.”

“Soon you'll have me believing that,” Maurice said over Teresa's shoulder. “I tell you, there's something about this life that makes a person feel younger.”

“It's their wholesome living, Mom,” Teresa said, holding her mother at arm's length. “It's their honest, open-faced lives that makes them the way they are. They speak the truth even when it hurts.”

“You're going to make me blush pretty soon,” Susan interrupted. “We're not nearly as wonderful as you think. Any good thing we have or do comes from
Da Hah
alone.”

“I don't think anyone disagrees with that,” Maurice said. “Now, let's get some work done or those women in the house will think I can't work at all.”

“You have been working!” Teresa protested.

“So what's next?” Maurice asked, ignoring Teresa's remark. “Lead us to our next duty, Susan.”

“You're already sounding like one of us,” Teresa said with a laugh. “I really think you should sit on the front porch swing for the rest of the day.”

“I will not,” Maurice said. “These old bones will toil until the sun goes down.”

Susan joined in the laughter. “The garden is next on the list of things to do. It needs weeding.”

“So even the garden gets dressed for the wedding day!” Maurice exclaimed. “I do like this more and more.”

“I told you, Mom,” Teresa said as they followed Susan across the yard. Arriving at the garden, they began at the side near the house, moving along on their hands and knees, making sure to pull even the smallest weeds. The three women worked away until Ada appeared with glasses of freshly pressed lemonade.

“Time for a break!” Ada hollered, her face beaming.

The three women got up and made their way to the edge of the garden. Ada handed them all ice-cold glasses.

Maurice took a sip. “This is heavenly! How do you folks do this?”

“Thanks,” Ada said. “Fresh-squeezed lemons. One of the young girls made it. I'll tell her you liked it.”

“Please do,” Maurice said.

Teresa and Susan drank from their glasses and smiled their appreciation.

Ada asked Susan, “Do you need help out here? We could spare another person right now. We're almost done with the pies.”

“No,” Susan said, “we only have a few more feet to go.”

“Okay then.” Ada turned to leave. “I'm going home in a few minutes. My family will be crying for supper if I don't get back soon.”

After Ada disappeared around the corner of the house, Susan walked back to the end of the garden row where she'd been working. She resumed her weeding. Teresa and her mother stayed behind, their voices rising and falling out of hearing distance. Susan smiled. They were lost in their own world, and they surely had much to speak of. Not only because of their long separation, but also because of the many changes that had occurred.

Maurice could have easily rejected her daughter for abandoning their life in the city, pushing her away because of the choices she'd made. Yet, instead, the two were reaching out to each other in a way they never had before.

T
hat afternoon, as Thomas Stoll drove his buggy south on the gravel road, the rays of the setting sun flooded the side of his face. He squinted, turning his head before pulling down the rim of his hat. Troubled thoughts raced through his mind. Susan had finally invited him to stop by their place this week. But why hadn't she done so sooner? Was she having doubts again? He would be best man for Teresa's side of the family at the wedding, so this should give him quite a solid footing with Susan for the foreseeable future. And he was taking her home from the Sunday hymn singings again.

A smile crossed Thomas's face. He settled back into the buggy seat as the sun went behind low-hanging clouds on the horizon. Things would be in an uproar of busyness when he arrived at the Hostetler place. The wedding preparations were in full swing, so perhaps he should offer to help with the work this evening. A little thoughtfulness on his part couldn't do any harm, and it might just warm Susan's heart toward him all the more.

Thankfully this was finally happening. He had apologized often enough for the brief attention he'd paid to Eunice. And for the kiss, which he never should have done, of course. Thankfully Susan hadn't learned that while she was away in the
Englisha
world he'd gone on a date with Eunice. That itself was a miracle of sorts in this tight-knit community. Perhaps he should have told her about that date. It might have helped soothe Susan's hurt feelings sooner if she'd known he had pursued his attraction to Eunice just to make sure they were only a passing fancy. And that's how it had turned out.

Susan was the woman he wanted to marry. He'd wanted to marry her since his early teen years. They would have been married already if Susan had accepted his explanation about Eunice and hadn't overreacted. There never had been a reason for Susan to rush off to the
Englisha
world like she had. Everyone knew the
Englisha
offered no better solutions to matters of the heart than what the community had to give.

Thomas slowed down as the Hostetler farm came into view. The fields were laid out behind the barns in long, even squares, the corn almost ready for harvest. The hayfields were already in their second cutting. Menno had hired a new man for the summer—a situation Thomas hoped was temporary. First, because he should rightly be living on the farm this summer, learning how to farm by working alongside Menno. It wouldn't be long before Susan's father, due to his advancing age, might not wish to put the energy into training someone who hadn't grown up on a farm. But he had always dreamed of owning a farm, expensive as they were. He would have to pay Menno a fair price after Susan and he were married. He couldn't afford to make many mistakes in his farming practices because they could be costly. Things like crops planted on the wrong week. Hay cut when the weather wasn't right. Ruined hay could mean a winter spent having to purchase feed for the livestock, taking a serious cut out of the farm's profit margin.

That, of course, explained why Menno wanted a hired hand until Susan was married. Steve no doubt helped not only with the labor, but also with minimizing the risk of mistakes.

Thankfully, Susan seemed unaware of the sideways glances Steve was giving her at the hymn singings or the way Steve's face lit up when she spoke to him. How Susan failed to notice was hard to imagine, but hopefully this was a good sign.