The day had turned to dusk as Sadie sat on the swing waiting for Eli. Her heart brimmed with joy. Eli cared for her—he really did. He cared so much that he asked his grandfather to come all this way to meet her, or at least that’s what he finally confessed.
Even though it was only eight o’clock, the rest of her family had gone to bed. Most nights, her aunt, uncle, and cousins were in bed before sunset, especially since her uncle woke them at 4:00 a.m., summer or not.
She brushed her shoes on the porch as she swung. He’d told her he’d come, and she had no reason to question why he wouldn’t. Eli always kept his word. That was one thing she cared about most—loved most—about him. Sadie smiled. Ja, it was turning into love all right. And soon maybe marriage.
Up ahead, two figures crested the small rise. They were about the same height, but the one on the right of the road walked with a lightness to his step. The older man walked with more of a shuffle, yet Eli’s opa seemed to be in good shape for someone his age.
She walked to the gate and waved, then waited for them to get closer.
“Sadie, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She could hear the joy in his voice. “Opa told me he’d chatted with your mother many times, and she was a wonderful gardener.”
They entered the gate.
“I think she was envied by everyone in LaGrange county . . . not that the Amish envy.” The older man stretched out his hand and shook Sadie’s. “It’s an honor, dear.” It wasn’t the usual way the Amish did things, and it reminded Sadie of when she and Eli first met.
“You can call me Opa,” he said. “It seems only right, don’t you think?”
Heat rose to her cheeks. She’d be a welcome member of the family if that’s what Eli chose. She released his hand and motioned to the house.
“Come inside. I’d love to hear more,” she offered. “It’s always a joy to talk to someone who knew my parents. I’ve told Eli about Mem’s garden, and it’s wonderful to know you thought highly of it too.”
She led them to the house and opened the door wide. “I have coffee made and cookies, or if you’d rather have milk, I—” She turned, and her words lodged in her throat. There were two things she noticed immediately about Eli’s grandfather once he came inside. First was how similar the two men looked, with green eyes and chiseled features. Of course, Eli’s grandfather wore a beard, as did all Amish men. But the second was that he was wearing Englisch clothes.
Her smile faded, and Opa’s eyes widened. He looked down at his jeans and western shirt and then turned to Eli. “You did tell Sadie that I wasn’t Amish anymore, didn’t you?”
Eli looked to Sadie and cocked his head. “I believe so. Didn’t I? Surely I must have. I’ve talked about you, Opa, so much, with so many people in the area, well, I did mention that, didn’t I, Sadie?”
“No.” The word fell flat from her lips. “That’s something you forgot to mention.” She tried to act nonchalant as she placed the cream and sugar on the table and then got three coffee mugs from the cupboard. Her hand was shaking slightly as she set the mugs before them, but she tried to pay it no mind. She hoped Opa didn’t notice. He gazed up at her, and she smiled. What else could she do?
Sadie stood tall, posture straight, as if her whole worth in his eyes would be summed up in how well she held herself.
“You probably want to know why I have Amish family but I’m no longer Amish,” Opa said. “Both my wife and I were raised Amish, and we lived that way for many years. Then there were circumstances . . . people came into our lives who loved God. Who were more concerned about the character of one’s heart than one’s kapp or beard. The more time we spent with them, the more we began to see that God didn’t require us to follow our Plain ways so strictly. We’re still a simple people, and I run a simple business. It’s not as if we turned our back on the Amish.”
Sadie nodded, but she didn’t know what to say. She wished she could slow her pounding heart. Wished her mind wasn’t so muddled.
What do I do now? What would my brothers and sisters say? It wouldn’t be good. Not at all. Sadie bit her lip and stood there silently.
Eli looked at her with a curious expression. He took a sip of his coffee, peering at her over the rim of his coffee cup. He could tell something was wrong. She could see it in his eyes. But what could she offer? Sadie couldn’t even sift through her own feelings.
Was she mad at Eli for not making it clear that his grandfather wasn’t Amish? Yes. Did she now question her feelings for Eli? She had to admit she did. For as long as she remembered, she’d only imagined herself marrying a gut Amish man from a gut Amish family. She hadn’t ever considered the alternative. She wouldn’t even want to imagine what her mem and dat would say if they were still alive. And the fact that they weren’t and she couldn’t go to them for advice made her even more flustered.
She sat down at the table across from Eli and Opa.
It doesn’t matter that he’s not Amish, Sadie told herself. People left the Amish for various reasons. As long as Eli had a strong faith and commitment to the Amish, that was all that mattered, right?
“Sadie, Eli told me that some of your tomatoes got blossom-end rot, is that right?” Opa asked.
She was thankful he changed the subject. Her tomatoes were something she could easily talk about—and it gave her time to think.
“Ja, I had never seen that before. Thank you for telling Eli what I needed to do about it.”
Opa took a bite from his cookie and nodded. “I’m glad I could help, and if you’re interested, I’d be happy to stop by tomorrow and look at the rest of the garden to see if there are any other problems. It’s always a challenge when you start gardening in a new place.”
She poured herself some coffee but didn’t drink it. “Ja. I mean, ne. I mean, no, I don’t mind.”
“Have you ever considered selling your seeds, Sadie? From what I hear, they are a very special heirloom variety. Seeds like that need to be saved up, treasured, and doing so is one of my hobbies.”
Sadie’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “My mem refused anytime someone tried to buy seeds from her. Sometimes she would give them to neighbors. There have been Englischers who’ve approached her. Some were very insistent, but to us, these seeds are our heritage.” She thought again of the man from Pioneer Creek Seeds. Sadie remembered her mother’s words.
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t sell the seeds,” she said. “These tomatoes are special. They’re all I have of my family.”
He nodded and then smiled. “I wonder why I even asked. I understand, Sadie. I’ve heard those same words before. Your mem told me the same thing many times.” He chuckled. “It’s almost like hearing her words come through your mouth.”
“You asked my mem about selling her seeds?” Sadie’s throat clenched down. Her stomach ratcheted up. She was certain she was going to be sick.
“Excuse me?” She leaned forward, studying the man’s face. “What did you say your name is?”
“Paul, Paul Hostetler. I’m sure I met you once back in Indiana when I was visiting your mem. You were just a little thing then, but maybe you have heard about our business, Pioneer Creek Farms?”
“You.” Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked from Paul to Eli and then back to Paul again. “Is this what it’s all been about, Eli? Is that what everything’s been about? My tomatoes? My seeds?”
Eli leaned over to take her hand, but Sadie pulled it away.
He stood and walked over to her, but she rose and moved toward the cupboard, putting space between them. “Don’t think you can sweet-talk me.” Her lips trembled as she spoke. “Either of you . . . I can’t believe you’ve come all this way. I can’t believe you’ve given me so much attention for . . . my seeds. They must be valuable indeed.”
Suddenly the realization of what she was saying must have hit Eli because his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Sadie, are you saying what I think you’re saying? That I’ve been spending all this time with you so I can warm you up to buy your seeds?”
“Isn’t that true?” She jutted out her chin. “Your grandfather tried to persuade my mother, but she didn’t fall for it. But me?” Sadie placed her hands over her face, and then she shook her head. “I’m such a fool, and you knew it when you approached me, didn’t you? You knew how to help. You knew what to say . . . how to care.” Sadie’s voice rose. She lowered her hands and gazed at Paul. “No wonder you were so eager to help me with the blossom-end rot. You didn’t want to lose what your eye was focused on.”
“Sadie, listen to yourself. My grandfather . . . he had no intention of trying to trick you.” Eli ran his hand through his hair and then turned to his grandfather. “Won’t you tell her? I don’t care about seeds. Tell her that this is not what it’s all about.”
Instead of trying to urge her, Opa only sighed. “Eli, I’m afraid that if I say anything it’s only going to make things worse. It’s clear that Sadie here has heard plenty about me. Anything I’d say would be taken with a grain of salt.” Sadness filled the man’s face. “I think I remember how to get back to your cabin. If you’d like to stay and talk to . . . your friend . . . I can find my way back.”
“No.” Eli stepped away and shook his head. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say. Sadie has already made her decision. She’s already judged us before she’s heard a word.” Eli looked at her, and then he shook his head. “Good night, Sadie. I’m sorry—I’m sorry you feel the way you do.” He then turned and motioned for his grandfather to follow him to the door. And then without a word, they slipped into the night.
Sadie watched them go, and anger surged through her. Anger at them and anger at herself. She’d fallen for it—fallen for him, and to what reward? Only to have her heart broken again.
Sadie rushed forward, locked the front door, and then dimmed the lantern light. She needed time to think. She needed time to pray, and deep down the only thing that brought her joy was that tomorrow she’d be able to pick the first harvest from the garden—and save those first seeds—and prove she wasn’t a complete failure after all.