CHAPTER
thirty-one

Sylvia walked up Hickory Lane to meet Andy Zook at the location they had agreed upon. Moving quickly along the roadside, she kept telling herself not to be surprised if Andy didn’t show up.

Things can happen, she thought, recalling Titus’s bold declaration last May: “I’ll always love ya . . . be right by your side. . . .”

“Empty words,” she murmured, pushing her hands into her coat pockets, aware of the changing temperature.

This evening she would guard her heart more carefully. After all, Andy’s interest in me came about before his father was made a preacher. . . .

Adeline missed seeing Brendon that Saturday evening, but he’d told her earlier that he had a meeting to attend. So she enjoyed a quiet evening near the gas fireplace, studying for hours and then reading more of the Bible before soaking up every word of her mom’s next diary entry. She had slowed down the pace of reading those now, wanting to savor what was left, prolonging this special time. She was curled up in the pretty quilt given to Mom and Earnest as a wedding gift so long ago, a mug of hot tea within reach on the lamp table. Every now and then, she found herself staring at the flames in the gas fireplace, wondering when to best share with Brendon what she was discovering spiritually. How will he react? she wondered, knowing he was preoccupied with work.

She shrugged it off, thinking the right time would present itself. I’ll know when to bring this up. . . .

Later, she got her laptop to look at wedding trends, especially colors and styles of bridesmaids’ dresses for her maid-of-honor and two attendants. If I decide on even that many, she thought, wanting to keep things simple, per Brendon’s request.

Adeline’s grandparents had offered to pay for a lavish wedding, but Adeline didn’t want to take advantage of their generosity. After all, her mom’s marriage to Earnest had taken place before a justice of the peace, and the marriage to Adeline’s stepdad, William Pelham, had also been relatively modest. It wouldn’t be right to spend a bunch of Grandpa and Grandy’s money on my wedding, she thought. And she wouldn’t ask the trustee her mom had appointed to shell out extra, either. For once, I’ll be frugal, like Brendon.

Up Hickory Lane, Andy had already arrived and awaited Sylvia, much to her amazement. He stood outside his open courting carriage, dressed in black except for the white shirt collar that peeked out at the neck of his coat. His wide black felt hat made him look especially distinguished. She tried not to act surprised that he’d actually come, lest he not understand the reason.

“I thought of just pullin’ up to your back door,” Andy said as she met him. “No point hiding who you’re out with tonight, jah?”

She smiled. “Well, there are still some couples who prefer to keep it a secret,” she said, liking that he wouldn’t have minded her family knowing. She appreciated that he seemed to like to have things out in the open. “I did tell my parents, though.”

“I told mine, too,” Andy confessed, helping her into the carriage.

Again, she was very surprised and would have loved to know what the new preacher thought about his son taking out Earnest Miller’s daughter. But it wasn’t polite to probe. Besides, she thought, feeling a subtle twinge in her heart, maybe I don’t want to know.

“Are ya hungry?” Andy asked after getting into the driver’s side.

“Jah, are you sure?”

“It’s time to eat, for sure.” He mentioned two restaurants. “Which would you like?”

“Dienner’s is fine.”

“My Dat’s cousins run that one, so maybe we can get a family discount,” he joked, spreading the lap blanket gently over her. “I hope you’ll be warm enough. If not, I’ve got more blankets in the back.”

She appreciated his attention to her and tried not to compare a single thing he said or did with Titus. It was only fair, but it wouldn’t be easy.

Andy picked up the driving lines and signaled the horse to move forward.

Off to a good start, she thought happily.

Dienner’s Country Restaurant was crowded mainly with tourists, but there were a few Amish couples eating in the secondary room off to the side of the buffet. The young Amish hostess, with a friendly smile on her rosy cheeks, directed Sylvia and Andy to their table amidst the background of dinner conversation and the clinking sound of utensils on plates. Sylvia didn’t recognize the hostess, but Andy seemed to, and she assumed the young woman must be one of his many cousins or someone he knew from another church district.

When they were seated, Andy made a point of telling Sylvia that the hostess was Linda Esch, an in-law to his married sister. “Linda’s also a storyteller at the little rural library out east, near Honey Brook.”

Sylvia perked up at this. “She makes up stories?”

“Well, not exactly.” Andy explained that Linda memorized stories and dramatized them for children. “To encourage them to learn to read.”

“What a talent!”

Andy agreed. “She has a sharp memory.”

“How many stories does she know by heart?”

“At last count, seven—everything from Dr. Seuss to Aesop’s Fables. Do ya remember reading ‘The Hare and the Tortoise’ and ‘The Fox and the Grapes’?”

Sylvia smiled as she recalled Mamma reading those to her when she was small.

Andy reached for the menu. “Well, I guess we should choose what to order before we forget, jah?” He winked at her.

Agreeing, Sylvia realized again how comfortable she felt with Andy. He was always so easy to talk to.

“Would ya like the buffet?” he asked with a glance at her. “Don’t be shy . . . you can have whatever you’d like.”

She thanked him but didn’t think she wanted something as substantial as the all-you-can-eat buffet. In the end, Andy chose that, and she ordered a cheesesteak on a potato roll with a side of coleslaw.

Effortlessly, they resumed their conversation, talking now about the upcoming youth fall festivities, including the fall supper party to be hosted at the home of Ella Mae’s son-in-law.

“It’ll be loads of fun, and I hear David Beiler will have his nine-hundred-pound pumpkin on display,” Andy said, grinning like he couldn’t wait to see it. “David fertilizes it with phosphorous once the blossoms start.”

“That’ll do it,” Sylvia said. She told Andy that Dawdi Riehl had once grown a fifteen-hundred-pound pumpkin.

Andy chuckled. “That is big.”

They talked easily throughout the evening, and it wasn’t until much later, when they were alone again in his courting carriage and bundled up with several heavy blankets, that she realized she’d scarcely thought of Titus.

As they rode out along Route 30, Andy talked of all the fun they would have together this fall, as if he planned on asking her out again. At North Soudersburg Road, they turned north for a little way, then went east on Irishtown Road, wending their way back toward Hickory Hollow.

A mile from her house, Andy slowed the horse. “Sylvie, I don’t want to take you for granted,” he said. “Would ya like to spend time with me next Saturday after the Beilers’ supper party?”

To think he was asking her this far ahead made her smile. “That’d be nice, but . . .”

He turned to look at her. “What is it?”

“I guess . . . well, I thought ya might not wanna spend time with me anymore, not after your father’s ordination.”

Andy was so quiet for a moment, she was aware of her heart beating. Ach, I shouldn’t have said anything.

When he spoke again, it was rather softly. “Listen, Sylvie. I know why you and Titus aren’t together. It’s no secret.”

“You know?”

“Jah.” He paused and signaled the mare to a walk. “But I’m not Titus . . . and my father isn’t Preacher Kauffman.”

She was surprised that he’d immediately touched on the heart of the matter.

Andy continued. “My Daed and Dawdi Mahlon have been close friends with your Dat for more than twenty years now. Your Dat has been like family to them, and my father knows he’s serious now ’bout living as he should.” Andy looked her way, then back at the road. “But it’s not only about the connection between our families. It’s about you, Sylvie. I’ve admired ya ever since our school days.”

She’d wondered how long Andy had been observing her. “That’s a lot to live up to.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry. All of us are sinners, saved only by the grace of God.”

His words echoed in her heart, endearing him to her, and she felt ever so encouraged.

“So if it’s all right with you, I’d like to see ya next Saturday after the fall supper party, and at Singing on Sunday, too,” Andy said.

Two evenings in a row?

“That’ll be fun,” she said, trying to squelch a grin.

“Okay then. It’s settled.” Andy gave a nod before signaling the horse to trot again.

She felt truly at home with him, just as she had the other times they’d talked. And while she liked that they were becoming good friends first, before he showed any romantic affection, she couldn’t help wondering how long before he might hold her hand.