Amos was avoiding her.
Sure, they worked together the next few mornings, Amos mowing the hay while she raked it. The hay would need a few days to dry, which meant spreading it out with the hay rakes so it would be exposed to the sun, then raking it back up into hay piles. Fortunately it hadn’t rained, so the hay was drying fairly quickly. The green grass was now the color of typical hay, a light brown with green undertones. In the afternoon she picked tomatoes from the garden and helped Aenti Judith can. Amos spent the afternoons raking and turning the rest of the hay, then harvesting the corn. She didn’t see him until suppertime, and even then he wolfed down his food and then went back outside. She waited for him to return for two nights in a row, but when he didn’t, she’d gone upstairs, tired and dejected.
By Saturday morning she and Aenti Judith had canned forty jars of tomato sauce. “More than we need,” her aunt said. “God has blessed us with enough to share.”
But there was more work to be done, and Dinah settled herself on the front porch that afternoon and husked corn, trying not to be irritated with Amos. What was he doing after supper that was so important? Barn chores didn’t take that long. Then again, he was a farmer, so maybe there were some chores he had to do that she didn’t know about. She wanted to follow him and offer her help. If he wanted yer help, he’d ask for it.
Maybe it had been a mistake to offer to teach him to read. Maybe he didn’t want to learn and had only agreed out of politeness. But that didn’t explain why he had initially said he wished he could read.
There was another reason he could be avoiding her. Perhaps he didn’t want to spend time with her anymore.
She tried to focus on the corn, but the thought stung. She’d read too much into their friendship. He was a busy farmer, and although David had gotten the go-ahead from Anna Mae to go outside, he still wasn’t allowed to do any work. Dinah was sure David was barking out plenty of instructions, though.
For the first time since she’d arrived, she felt a pang of homesickness. She’d accomplished what her mother wanted her to do. She’d spent time with other people. Tomorrow she would actually be meeting strangers at church. She’d had fun canning tomato sauce and Chow Chow with her aunt. But now that David was on his feet, Amos didn’t need her anymore.
Neither did anyone else here. She yanked on the tough corn husk. She wanted to go home. She wanted the sanctuary of her room, the comfort of her pets. Her mother said she could change her ticket. Extend her trip were the exact words, but Dinah didn’t see why she couldn’t shorten it too. She’d pay the extra money if she had to.
The next morning Dinah woke up early, her stomach a bundle of nerves. Her mouth was already turning dry at the thought of meeting strangers. She’d been truthful when she told her aunt she wanted to meet the people in this community, but that had been when she felt more confident. Now that she would be facing them soon, she wished she hadn’t seemed so eager.
She put on her best Sunday dress, a light blue one that she had sewn this past spring. She also took time with her hair, even though no one would see it under her kapp. But Amos had seen it. She shivered, remembering the way he touched it. Then she shook her head. She should be thinking about worship, not about Amos.
After she dressed, she went downstairs to get a muffin for breakfast. She froze as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Amos was there, drinking milk from a large glass. His black pants, crisp white shirt, and black vest enhanced his good looks. He drained the glass and put it down on the table, then looked up. His hair was neatly combed, the neatest she’d seen it since she’d met him.
He also had a milk mustache.
Despite her nerves, she had the urge to smile. She went to him and handed him a napkin. “Y-you’ve g-got m-milk o-on y-yer l-lip.”
“Oh.” His eyes widened and he took the napkin from her. “I’m always doing that.” He wiped off the milk. “Did I get it all?”
He didn’t. There was one spot right above the right corner of his mouth. Without thinking, she reached up and wiped it away with her thumb. Then she drew back quickly, her face blazing with embarrassment.
“Are you two ready to geh?” Aenti Judith walked into the kitchen, tying her black bonnet on her head. David was right behind her, still limping, but looking much better than he had when she’d arrived. Last night he’d been talking about helping stack the hay tomorrow, and Aenti Judith hadn’t protested. Life was getting back to normal for the Mullet family.
Which meant it was time for her to get back to her life in New York. A lonely life.
Amos moved away from her and walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t look at her while they sat next to each other in David’s buggy on the way to church. In fact, he was turned from her, looking outside.
Dinah wanted to jump out and walk back to the Mullets. She’d definitely offended Amos. Maybe he didn’t even understand exactly why he didn’t want to talk to Dinah or even look at her. But being ignored by him hurt, more than she thought possible.
Aenti Judith had said it was a ten-minute buggy ride to Bekah and Caleb Mullet’s house, Amos and Jeremiah’s cousins. Finally they pulled into the driveway of a large, beautiful farm, which caused her nerves to go into overdrive. There were two houses on the property, along with several white-fenced corrals, two large barns, and one smaller barn.
“Caleb and his brother, Johnny, own this farm,” Judith said as David parked the buggy next to another one, adding to the long line of black buggies already there. “They have both their houses on the property. We’ll have church in the smaller barn, but lunch is at Bekah’s haus.”
Dinah barely heard her aunt’s explanation. She saw men and women greeting one another and visiting while younger kids stayed nearby and older kids congregated together. There weren’t as many people as she feared, but as Judith and David stepped out of the buggy, she realized the number didn’t matter. Whether it was five or fifty new people, she was still anxious. She would still stutter. She would still be judged.
Then she felt Amos’s warm hand cover hers. She looked at him, stunned, seeing understanding in his eyes. “It will be okay,” he said.
As usual, his words were simple, but filled with deep meaning. A flood of emotion washed over her. His simple reassurance was what she needed to hear. He released her hand. Taking in a deep breath, she exited the buggy.
Aenti Judith was immediately at her side. “There are so many lovely people here,” she said. “They will make you feel right at home.”
Her aunt was right. While Amos visited with a small group of men who looked about his age, Aenti Judith introduced her to several women. She met Bekah Mullet, whose bright eyes and animated way of speaking put Dinah more at ease. Her sister Katherine, who was married to Johnny, Caleb’s brother, was a contrast to Bekah—quiet, graceful, with pretty reddish-blond hair and freckles. She also met Laura Thompson, and noticed the thin scars on the woman’s face. They didn’t detract from her beauty or her confidence.
“N-nice to m-meet y-you,” Dinah said, wishing she could be as confident as Laura.
“You are planning to stay for lunch, ya?” Laura said. She glanced at Bekah, who was standing next to her. “We’ll make sure to point out the pies Bekah made.”
Bekah arched her eyebrow. “Mei pies aren’t that bad.” Then she looked from Katherine to Laura and laughed. “Katherine made the pies this time.”
“Bekah’s famous for her cooking skills,” Laura added with a wink. “Her poor cooking skills, that is. We’re all surprised Caleb isn’t starving to death.”
“I’ll have you know that while I haven’t mastered baking, I make a decent supper.” She pointed her thumb at a well-built man who looked to be in his early thirties talking to Amos. “As you can see, mei husband is definitely not wasting away.”
The women burst into laughter. Dinah was a little bewildered that Bekah was taking the teasing so well. Clearly her feelings weren’t hurt.
Bekah’s laughter faded. “Dinah, I’m a terrible cook. I know it. Caleb knows it. He married me anyway.” She grinned and gestured at Laura and Katherine with a tilt of her head. “These two and their husbands never miss a chance to tease me about it.”
“That’s part of the fun of being familye,” Katherine said.
“I’m not actually familye,” Laura added.
Katherine shook her head. “You are familye. Not by marriage or blood, but by friendship.”
“Which is why you get a pass for teasing me.” Bekah let out an exaggerated sigh. “See what I put up with?”
Dinah started to relax and returned the smile. Before she could say anything, people began heading for the barn. “Service is starting,” Aenti Judith said.
As Dinah tried to focus on the sermon, she thought about her own family. The way her brothers had teased her about being shy and stuttering. How they had made her cry. Her reaction had been so different from Bekah’s. What if she hadn’t let the teasing get to her? What if she hadn’t been so sensitive to it? What if she hadn’t hidden away with her books and her poetry, afraid she was going to be made fun of at any moment?
But she wasn’t Bekah. She was Dinah. Stuttering wasn’t the same as not being able to cook.
She forced herself to focus on the rest of the service. When it was over, she filed out of the barn with the other women. She searched for Amos, but he had disappeared.
“Are you sure it’s okay if we stay for lunch?” Aenti Judith asked.
She wasn’t going to say no. “Sure.” She would do what she normally did at large gatherings—observe. Stay in the shadows. Make herself invisible.
It was a beautiful afternoon and Bekah and Caleb had long tables set up in their backyard, along with another table filled with cold food that didn’t need to be cooked. Dinah held back while everyone filled their plates, then she took a few pickles, a slice of Swiss cheese, a piece of bread, and a cookie. She avoided the pies, not because she didn’t trust them but because her stomach was still upside down. She went to sit by Aenti Judith, who was with several other women. David was at the next table with a few of the men. There was no sign of Amos.
Then she found him a few yards away, playing with several of the younger children. The oldest looked no more than seven. They were tossing and kicking a volleyball back and forth. Amos had taken off his vest and his shoes and socks.
“Watch this, Amos!” The oldest boy tossed the volleyball in the air and pounded it with his fist. It flew a few inches before landing with a thud on the ground.
Amos smiled and picked up the ball. “Let’s play hot potato!”
The children shouted their agreement and arranged themselves into a circle, Amos towering over them. He bounced the ball back and forth in his hands as if it really were hot, then gently tossed it to the child next to him. They continued to move the ball around the circle until it came back to Amos. “Oh nee!” he said, juggling the ball in his hands. “It’s so hot!” Then he dropped the ball and collapsed on the grass. The boys ran over and piled on top of him.
Dinah started to laugh. Amos playing with the children was the most charming thing she’d ever seen. They loved him, she could tell. “Let’s do it again,” Amos said, squirming from underneath the kids and jumping to his feet.
“Amos!” David shouted. “That’s enough!”
Amos and the children froze, as if they were all in trouble. Then Amos looked at them, crouching down as he spoke. “I have to mind mei daed. Just like you have to mind yer daeds.”
The children nodded solemnly and dispersed. Amos put on his shoes, socks, and vest, then went to his father’s table and sat down, not saying a word.
Aenti Judith remained silent, but she did give David a pointed look. The rest of the women and men had picked up their previous conversation as if nothing happened.
David looked at Judith. “He was behaving like a little kinn.”
“He was behaving like a father,” Dinah said, furious that Amos was humiliated like that. “A father playing with his kinner.”
That brought another round of silence, a frown from both David and Aenti Judith, and no response from Amos. Oh nee. She’d overstepped her bounds this time. “E-excuse m-me,” she said and fled from the table. She went to David’s buggy and hid behind it, burying her face in her hands. She embarrassed not only herself, but Aenti Judith and David, and most of all, Amos.
As tears welled in her eyes, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Figuring it was Judith either coming to chastise her or see if she was okay, she wiped away the one tear that had escaped. She turned around and stilled.
Amos could tell Dinah had been crying. Not a lot, but he saw how wet her eyes were. That made him feel worse than he had when she had run from the table. This was his fault. If he hadn’t been playing with Caleb and Johnny’s sons and a couple of other boys, his father wouldn’t have said anything and Dinah wouldn’t be upset right now. He loved his little cousins and enjoyed playing games with them. This was the first time his father had said anything, and Amos hadn’t realized he’d been acting like a child when he was playing with them. He thought they were all having fun. Once again, he was wrong.
“A-Amos, I’m so s-sorry.” Dinah went to him. “I-I d-didn’t mean to embarrass y-you.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” At least not by what she said.
“I shouldn’t have . . . I-I d-didn’t w-w-want t-t-t-to . . .”
Shaking his head, he went to her. She was fighting to speak. She didn’t have to do that around him. He put his hands on her shoulders, not understanding why he did it, but knowing he needed to touch her, to let her know he wasn’t upset with her. “Dinah.”
She took in a big breath, like he did right before he put his head underwater when he went swimming. “I-I’m g-going t-to g-geh back to N-New Y-York.”