ONE

 

Ruth Johnson peeked out the family room window the moment she heard the Amish buggy rattling down the road. The new Amish family had moved in over a month ago, but she still got a strange thrill each time their buggy drove by.

The situation was peculiar indeed. It seemed odd that an Amish family would purchase the farm next to her family’s property. There were no Amish groups nearby, at least, not that she was aware of. She didn’t know much about the Amish, but she was pretty sure that they usually lived in communities. Had this family distanced themselves from their Amish group on purpose?

She’d grown up on this property in Moab, Indiana and she’d always loved the rolling hills and farms in this area. The land was certainly suitable for the Amish, seeing that they typically grew their own crops. She was vaguely familiar with the customs of the Amish—she knew they drove a horse and buggy, dressed differently, and often farmed the land. Other than that, she had no clue how they conducted their lives.

This morning, Ruth, her mother, and sisters had been busy making several batches of chocolate chip cookies.

“Ruthie, will you take these next door?” Mom asked.

Heat rose in her cheeks. She’d always been somewhat timid, so the idea of just showing up on the doorstep of total strangers did not sound appealing in the least.

“You want me to take them to the neighbors? Can’t Janie go? She’s older,” Ruth pleaded.

“Only if you’re volunteering to do my chores for me,” her sister hollered from the kitchen, where she currently washed dishes.

That had always been Ruth’s least favorite job. “Never mind, I’ll go.” She did her best to keep the begrudging tone out of her reply.

She wasn’t about to ask her other sister, Daphne. She was meaner than an old flustered hornet’s nest and her fury stung twice as hard.

~

The late morning spring air was absolutely perfect—crisp and lightly scented with the fragrance of wildflowers, especially when the breeze blew softly. Snuggles, Ruth’s fluffy calico cat, met her at the door, meowing softly.

“I’m sorry, Snuggles, but these cookies aren’t for you. I’m taking them to our new neighbors. Do you want to come with me and meet them too?”

“Meow,” was Snuggles’ response, as she rubbed her head on Ruth’s pant cuff.

“Okay, let’s go.” She began the quarter-mile trek to their neighbors’ farm. About half way there, Snuggles deserted her for a starling that descended from a nearby bush. So much for company.

Once Ruth came to the long white pasture fence that separated the two properties, she decided to go around to the front rather than just climb over. A stranger entering their field uninvited might not make the best first impression. She walked down their long driveway and soon spotted a young man clad in suspendered blue pants, a grey buttoned shirt, and a straw hat, whom she guessed must have been one of the family.

As she neared, she became more nervous.

The young man led a horse to a nearby pasture and turned it loose. He met her just as she was about to step onto the porch step. His clothing had obviously experienced much work this morning, evidenced by the stains and unpleasant aroma. She supposed that was to be expected on a working farm.

She stared down at the plate of cookies in her hand to avoid looking at his face. “I brought some cookies.”

“I see that.” His face brightened and a gentle grin lifted a corner of his mouth.

She finally looked up and found the most gorgeous hazel eyes she’d ever seen. “Oh, I…um…” She felt her cheeks warm. Had the temperature risen on her walk over? “I’m Ruth…uh, Ruthie. Your neighbor.”

Oh, but she felt like a fool stumbling over her words.

“Schee,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

He shook his head and smiled. “Nothin’. Gut to meet you, neighbor.”

Ruth nodded. “You too. What’s your name?” She could kick herself for getting flustered.

“Mahlon. Stutzman.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard that name before. Is it an Amish name?”

“Jah.” He eyed the plate of cookies.

“Would you like one? They’re for your family.”

The screen door screeched open and a woman appeared. “Mahlon, do we have a guest?”

He met Ruth’s eyes once again and smiled. “Jah.”

“Well, why don’t you invite her inside?” She chided and shook her head at Mahlon. She said something to him in a language Ruth couldn’t understand.

Mahlon responded with a frown which made Ruth all the more curious what the words had meant.

The woman, whom she presumed to be Mahlon’s mother, turned to look at Ruth. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Mahlon motioned for her to enter before him.

She walked in and immediately felt warmth. She looked around and spotted a large woodstove near the kitchen. Why on earth did they have a fire this time of the year?

“Come, sit down.” The woman motioned to a peculiar-looking rocking chair that appeared to be handmade. It sat next to an identical one in the living room, a small matching table between the two.

Ruth did as told. “My name is Ruth, but most people call me Ruthie. I live next door. My mother asked me to deliver these cookies. We made them this morning.”

“Tell your mother thank you, Ruthie.” The woman smiled. “I’m Naomi and I’m guessing you’ve already met Mahlon.”

“Yes, we met outside.” She glanced at Mahlon as he, too, took a seat in an empty chair. “Don’t let me keep you from your work.”

“Nee. Guests come first.” He grinned.

Naomi rose from her chair and disappeared into the kitchen.

Ruth felt like jumping up and running back home as Mahlon eyed her from across the room. A slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth and he winked. Was he flirting with her?

She avoided his handsome gaze, immediately stared at her hands, folded them together, then unfolded them, then rubbed them on her jeans.

Where had Naomi disappeared to? Was it especially dark in there? She glanced up at the ceiling. Where were their light fixtures?

As though reading her mind, Mahlon reached over to a side table and raised the wick on a lantern. The room immediately brightened.

“Lemonade?” Naomi appeared with a tray of glasses and snack bowls.

“Oh, yes, please.” She reached for a glass. “Thank you.”

“Some popcorn?” Naomi nodded toward the bowls on the tray.

Ruth reached for one. “Thank you.” She hadn’t expected this hospitality. It was quite refreshing.

Naomi then served Mahlon and set the tray down on the table.

Ruth sipped her lemonade. “This rocking chair is really comfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like this. Did your husband make it?”

“Mahlon makes and sells them. I make the cushions.” Naomi smiled.

“They’re very nice, Mahlon. Where do you make them?”

He pointed toward the window. “Just outside in the shop there.”

“Do many people buy them?” She’d noticed a small handmade sign out by the road.

“Not yet. But I’m hoping they will sell well here. They were popular with the tourists in Pennsylvania.”

“I sometimes work at a furniture store that my uncle owns. I could see if he’s interested in selling your rocking chairs.”

“Y-you would do that for me?” His humble tone endeared him to her even more.

“Yes, sure. I just need to know a few things. What price you’d sell them to him for…unless you’d rather do consignment. In that case, he’ll need to know how much you want out of each one then he’d tack his price onto that. I’ll need to know how fast you can make them too.”

“How much do you say it would sell for?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. These are so unique. And I’m sure they must take some time to make.” Ruth ran her hand over one of the chair’s arms. “Other rocking chairs in my uncle’s store sell for a hundred to a hundred and fifty. I would think you could probably get at least that out of it.”

She couldn’t read the look on Mahlon’s face. Was he pleased or insulted with her assessment? She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“These are really nice. I think people will appreciate the fact that they are homemade and each one is unique—it’s sort of like a piece of art.” She smiled, hoping Mahlon sensed her admiration for his handiwork.

“Do you think so? That Englischers will like them too?”

She frowned. “The English? Oh, I don’t know if we get many people visiting from England around here. Besides, it would probably be difficult for them to take the rocking chairs back home, don’t you think? Unless, you could ship it for them. But then, I’m thinking that’s probably pretty expensive.”

Mahlon’s grin grew wide as she spoke and he shared a smile with Naomi. Was there some sort of inside joke she didn’t get? Or had she said something wrong?

“What? What is it?”

Naomi spoke now. “We call those who are not Plain—not Amish—Englischers.”

“Oh, so you would call me Englischer, even though I’m not from England?”

“Jah, Englischer.” Mahlon’s eyes sparkled. He was teasing her.

“So, should I call you an Amisher?” Ruth returned his jest.

Mahlon laughed out loud.

Ruth looked up at the clock when it chimed. She really should be getting back home. Mom would wonder what happened to her. “I like your clock.”

“Denki. Eli, my husband, bought that for me as an engagement gift.” Naomi smiled.

Ruth glanced at Naomi’s hand where a wedding ring would usually adorn a married woman’s finger.

Naomi must’ve notice. “We don’t believe in outward adornment. That is why I do not wear a wedding ring like the Englischers.”

“Oh.” Ruth reached for one of her earrings, now feeling self-conscious for wearing them. Not to mention her necklace and ring.

“We don’t judge you. That is not our place.”

Naomi’s statement made her curious now. Did they think that wearing jewelry was sinful?

“I should probably go now.” Ruth looked up at the clock again. “Thank you for everything.” And she’d truly meant it. Somehow, being here with Naomi and Mahlon just felt right. She didn’t feel awkward or out of place like she’d expected to, she felt important, like she’d known them her entire life.

“I could show you my shop before you go.” Mahlon offered.

Ruth nodded. “I’d love to see it.” She stood up when something caught her eye over in the corner. “That quilt is beautiful.”

“Mamm made it.” Mahlon smiled.

Ruth walked to the quilt draped over one of the chairs. “It’s amazing. I wish I could make something like this.” She wanted to touch it, to examine it closer.

“I could teach you.” Naomi smiled.

“Really? You would? That would be fabulous.” Not to mention, she’d get to see Mahlon again.

“I don’t have any dochdern to teach. I would be happy to. Do you think you could come over on Thursday? I plan to start a new quilt then.”

“Thursday would be great.” She didn’t think her smile could stretch any wider.

Mahlon took his hat off the wall peg and placed it on his head. “Shop’s this way.”

She didn’t miss the warning tone in Naomi’s voice as she spoke to Mahlon again in a language Ruth couldn’t comprehend. Nor did she miss Mahlon’s return grunt. Whatever his mother had spoken to him had not made him happy.

“Goodbye, Naomi. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Wait.” Naomi rushed to the kitchen and returned with a loaf of bread in a clear plastic bag. “For your family.”

“Thank you. They will appreciate it. I’ll see you Thursday.” Ruth took the bread then followed Mahlon outside.

Mahlon walked past a carriage house and into a stately barn. Light filtered in through fiberglass panels on the roof. They passed several empty stalls, which Ruth figured belonged to the horses that now grazed out in the field.

“How many horses do you have?” She noted that the stalls appeared relatively clean and she wondered how often they were mucked out.

“Me? Just one for my courting buggy.”

“Oh. But your parents own several?”

“Jah. My younger brother Leon has one and Daed owns five.”

She stopped and peered out one of the openings in the barn. Horses dotted the landscape, grazing on the grass of the rolling hills. Her breath caught at the sheer beauty of the scene. “Which one is yours?”

Mahlon moved next to her and looked out as well. “The palomino.”

She looked at him and laughed. “You just spoke a foreign language to me. I know zero about horses.”

He smiled and pointed. “See the caramel colored horse with the blond mane and tail? That’s mine.”

“Oh, she’s beautiful.”

“He.” Mahlon chuckled and Ruth thought the warm sparkle in his eye becoming. He stared down at her and an awkward moment passed.

Suddenly, she was aware of his closeness. She cleared her throat and then stepped away. “We should probably look at your woodshop now.”

“Jah.” He nodded and then led the way through the barn. At the end was a set of double doors. Mahlon slid the latch and the doors opened to an expansive workspace.

Ruth took in all the tools in the shop and the finished furniture that lined the walls. “Wow! I didn’t expect this. Did you make that bedroom set? And the dining room table and chairs?”

“Daed and I did.”

She walked over to the table and slid her hand over its smooth surface. “Oh, Mahlon, they’re beautiful. You do great work.”

Pleasure seemed to radiate from his face. “You think so?”

“Yes. It’s amazing.”

“Thank you for saying that, Ruthie. I like it, but I always wondered if other people thought it was any good.”

Ruth’s mouth dropped opened. “You mean, no one has ever praised your work before?”

“Praise belongs to Der Herr, to God.”

“No, I just meant it as a compliment, not worship or anything.”

“Oh.” He shrugged. “I guess Mamm and Daed say that I do a gut job, but amazing and beautiful are words I’ve never heard in reference to my work.”

She tapped her chin. “Maybe I should bring my camera over one of these days. That way, I can show my uncle that owns the furniture store. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any handmade items in his store.”

“Do you think Englischers would like it?”

“Well, I’m an Englischer and I like it.”

“You’re not just saying that? You really mean it?”

Mahlon clearly needed a confidence boost. He was much too humble to see the value of his work. “Yes, I mean it.” She pulled her phone out of her pants pocket and glanced down at it to see the time. She’d been there much longer than she’d anticipated. “I should be going now. My mom will wonder why I’ve been gone this long.”

Mahlon nodded and led the way back out of the barn.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, then?” She glanced to the house and noticed Naomi peeking through the window.

“If Der Herr is willing.”

“Bye, Mahlon. Thank you for showing me your shop. And please thank your mom again for the bread.”

~

Mahlon sighed as he watched the beautiful Englisch girl walk down his driveway toward her own home. What good fortune to have her as a next-door neighbor. If only she were Amish. If she were, he would have asked to court her.

When she disappeared from sight, he stepped into the house to get another glass of lemonade before continuing his work in the barn.

His mother eyed him as he walked into the kitchen. “It seems like you have taken well to our neighbor.”

“She’s really nice, ain’t so?” And cute, he added mentally.

“You must remember that she is Englisch and you are not.”

“You’ve already stated that fact, Mamm.” He wasn’t meaning to be disrespectful, but he didn’t like being nagged. “We have not joined to any group since we’ve been here. There is no bishop around to forbid it.”

He pulled a pitcher of lemonade from the icebox and poured a glass, then drank nearly the whole thing in one gulp.

“Your father will forbid it.” She shook her head. “You need to find a nice Plain girl.”

“Like who, Mamm? In case you haven’t noticed, there isn’t exactly an endless supply. The nearest Amish district isn’t even within buggy driving distance.”

“Der Herr will bring someone along. You will see.”

He finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the counter. He walked to the door, then turned back to his mother. His eyes met hers. “Perhaps He already has.”

Mahlon stepped outside into the sunshine. He looked over toward the neighbors’ house and wondered if Ruthie was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her. He’d thought about kissing her in the barn as they stood so near to each other. He now wondered how she would have reacted if he had done so. Would she have kissed him back or would he have been met with rejection? He hadn’t wanted to seem too forward though. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away. Nee, he wanted her to return. Often.

Today was shaping up to be a great day, indeed. Mahlon wasn’t entirely sure what the future held for him, but if he had anything to do with it, the beautiful neighbor he’d just met would definitely be a part of it.