Chapter 13
LUCY FELT AWKWARD sitting in Tobe’s open courting buggy and left plenty of space between them. Tobe had gotten down from the black carriage to greet her and even helped her in, gentleman that he was. Yet as soon as they were on their way up Witmer Road, she could tell by the rigid way he held the driving lines that something was gnawing at him.
They talked about the usual things—who was courting whom and what snacks were served at tonight’s Singing. He noted, “Your twin sisters went riding with the Mast brothers for the third time. Might be a double match.”
“First I’ve heard it,” she admitted.
“Well, if you came to Singings . . .”
“Gut one, Tobe.”
“I’m serious.” He gave her a quick smile.
She wanted to set her old friend at ease, but Tobe wasn’t himself tonight, and she decided not to bide her time. “Ach, what is it? What’s on your mind?”
Tobe laughed softly and shook his head.
“I know you, and you’re ferhoodled.” She waited, hoping he might loosen up.
Then he nodded. “All right.” He turned and smiled at her, then suddenly looked timid. “It really wonders me, Lucy, if you might’ve already heard from the grapevine the news I’m gonna tell ya.”
“Glory be! Tobe, the gossipmonger?”
He laughed again and caught her eye. “It’s called news when ya get it straight from the horse’s mouth. Ain’t gossip at all.”
She frowned, feeling her insides tighten. “Okay. What’s the news?”
He changed his grip on the reins. “Gut, then . . . I hoped you’d hear it from me.”
She stared at him. Was he going to reveal something really big, like an engagement? Was that why he wanted to talk privately? They were close friends, although they hadn’t been confidants since her relationship with Travis.
“Just how much longer will ya keep me in the dark?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, my parents are seriously thinkin’ of moving to Colorado next year, come early spring.”
His parents? She frowned, letting this sink in.
“Remember when they were gone for ten days early last summer?” He explained that they’d gone to investigate the possibility of becoming established there. “There’s ungeheier amounts of ranchland available,” Tobe said. “Acres and acres of wide open space, Dat says.”
Lucy wondered why he was telling her this. “Are they eager to live somewhere new?”
He stopped talking and looked straight ahead. The sudden silence was unsettling.
At length he said, “Thing is . . . I’m considerin’ going with them.”
She was speechless.
He held her gaze. “What do ya think, Lucy?”
Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’ve heard nice things . . . ’bout Colorado. Mamm writes a circle letter with some cousins from out west.”
“But what I’m askin’ is,” he continued, “do you think I should go?”
In her heart of hearts, she knew she had no right to keep her friend here. “Do you want to?”
He looked at her.
She shrugged. “I mean . . . if ya want to, why not?”
He was quiet again, seemingly sad, as if she’d given him the wrong response.
Again Lucy spoke, trying to sound more hopeful for Tobe’s sake, yet feeling as if the ground were sinking around her. “The mountains are tall there, jah? And you’ve always talked ’bout conquering them, remember?”
He chuckled. “Like a mountain goat?”
She laughed and slapped the seat playfully. “You know what I mean! The Rocky Mountains might just be callin’ you, Tobe.”
Their laughter blended with the evening air, and they rode for a ways without saying more.
When he spoke again, his voice was somewhat hushed. “Actually, my father’s giving me the opportunity to buy his farm here. If I decide to stay, that is.” The struggle was evident in his tone.
“What I really want to say, Lucy, is I’d like to court you.”
The word hit her like a bale of hay. Had she heard correctly? Courtship—with Tobe?
He kept right on going. “Because if there’s any chance of that, I’d be willin’ to consider staying on here.”
Things were suddenly fuzzy, and she couldn’t think of a sensible response.
“Uh, Lucy? Now’s a gut time to say something.”
She moved slightly in the seat, grasping for the right words. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Well, is it really a surprise—how I feel ’bout ya?”
Her voice escaped her. At last she replied, “I guess it is.”
“Is it a gut surprise . . . or a bad surprise?”
She would not embarrass him—he was too nice for that. Too wonderful, really. But she didn’t know what more to say. If Lettie and Faye—and Dat and Mamm—were here, they would be nodding their heads, encouraging her.
But the truth of the matter was simple: She couldn’t just blurt out her past failings. Tobe wouldn’t understand, and she could never fully explain.
“Lucy?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?”
“Ach, Tobe . . . I really don’t know how to answer. It’s just that . . .” Her words dried up like the tobacco hanging in their neighbors’ shed.
“Jah?” Tobe prompted her.
She tried to say more, but it came out as little more than a sigh.
They rode past Ray and Martie’s farmhouse on the hill, and the sound of the horse’s hooves clip-clop-clipping on the pavement seemed to accentuate the stillness between them.
Eventually, Tobe spoke again. “I’ve put you on the spot, Lucy. Didn’t mean to do that, believe me.”
“Nee, it’s really very nice of you to ask, but the truth is . . .” She stopped. I’m not good enough for you, she thought, pressing her lips together. “Listen, Tobe . . . I’ve given up on ever getting married.”
“Why on earth?”
“I honestly don’t think . . .” She hesitated and started again. “I’m just not the right girl for you.”
“Well, I disagree.”
She paused. “Honestly, I’m not.”
“Won’t ya let me be the judge of that?” Tobe sounded more confident now, not pleading but determined.
“Trust me, Tobe.”
“I certainly do . . . and I admire ya, too.”
Lucy felt terrible, but she absolutely could not let him change her mind. Tobe was such a good man—he deserved a better bride.
“Won’t ya consider praying ’bout this?” His tone was soft, endearing.
She wavered long enough for Tobe to extract some kind of hope from her silence. “Let’s not talk ’bout this anymore. Please.”
He slowed the horse, sighing loudly. “Lucy, you’re the dearest girl I know.” Facing her, he went on. “You must’ve known how I felt.”
She could no longer hold back the tears.
He leaned toward her as if he had the urge to touch her, but backed away just as quickly. “Lucy, how can I help ya? What are ya thinking right now?”
“No one can help me,” she whispered.
Moving back in the seat, Tobe was quiet.
She brushed away her tears and took a deep breath, then said flatly, “Might be best if ya just took me home. I’m real sorry to spoil the evening.”
Without another word, Tobe directed the horse to turn around at a wide spot in the road. The ride back to her father’s house was a silent one.
Tobe halted his mare a short distance from the mailbox, then looked toward Lucy. “Will ya at least think about this?”
Swallowing hard, she nodded.
He gave her a winning smile.
“Gut Nacht,” she said, nearly fleeing the buggy.