Midweek, Leah drove to the Stutzman farm in search of Thomas. While picking up groceries for Sara, she had run into a young Amish couple in Byler’s Store who were friends of her sister Ruth. They had recently bought a small farm in Maryland, not far from Seven Poplars, and were raising organic asparagus and selling it commercially. They’d invited her and Thomas to visit, and she’d been impressed enough by what they had to say that she felt she needed to tell him about them.
The Stutzman place, consisting of two attractive houses, several barns and a handful of outbuildings, as well as the blacksmith shop, was set back off the road on two hundred and ten acres of high ground. Thomas’s father kept a herd of dairy cows, which, along with the successful smithy, provided a comfortable living for the extended family.
Leah followed the gravel driveway from the road to the farmyard and parked her car near the blacksmith shop. A buggy stood near the open front doors. There was no horse between the shafts, but Leah could hear the ring of a hammer on steel and guessed that one of her neighbors was having an animal shod this morning. She was about to go in to search for Thomas when his grandmother came out of the house. “Morning,” Leah called in Deitsch.
The older woman smiled as she recognized her. “Leah Yoder. I expect you’re looking for our Thomas.” Alma pointed. In the second field over, Leah saw a man turning up pastureland with a one-horse plow. “If you’ve a mind to save these old legs of mine, you can carry this iced tea out to him.” She indicated a quart mason jar on a sideboard on the porch where she stood. “Plowing is warm work, and he’s been at it all morning.”
“I’d be glad to,” Leah replied.
Two men came out of the smithy. One, Leah’s sister’s husband Roland, was leading a gray driving mare. The horse picked up her feet gingerly, obviously testing a new shoe. Roland nodded and smiled. “Morning.”
She returned the greeting. She liked Roland. With him was Jakob, the new blacksmith come to work for Thomas’s grandfather. She’d met Jakob before so she wasn’t surprised by his appearance. Jakob was a little person, like Ellie. And, like Ellie, despite his short height, he was an attractive and cheerful person. Leah was sure he’d be an asset to the community and she couldn’t understand why Ellie seemed to have no interest in socializing with him. The man was a ginger, with thick, dark auburn hair. He had broad shoulders to balance his stocky build and his high forehead and large, cinnamon-brown eyes gave him an intelligent and pleasant appearance.
“Good day to you, Jakob,” she called.
He smiled and raised a hand in a friendly way.
“A nice young man,” Alma said, coming down the porch steps with the iced tea. “A help he’ll be to my husband and son, I know. He comes as an apprentice, but there is little he needs to be taught. A good man with iron and gentle with the horses.”
“I’m glad,” Leah said. She put out her hands to take the jar of tea. “I’d best get this to Thomas before the ice melts.”
“Ya, but best you take off your shoes before you walk out to them fields,” Alma advised. “We had some rain last night and you’ll get them good sneakers soaked through.”
Nodding agreement, Leah removed her new navy blue cross-trainers and left them by the car before setting out to deliver Thomas’s cold drink. As she walked into the first newly plowed field, she found herself chuckling aloud. The warm earth felt good on her bare feet, and the scent of fresh-turned soil made her almost heady with childhood memories. She’d gone barefoot in Seven Poplars much of the time, a pleasure that she couldn’t allow herself in Brazil because of the poisonous snakes and fire ants.
She stopped and shaded her eyes with a hand, watching as Thomas reached the end of the field and turned back. What a beautiful picture he and the big bay Belgian made, almost like a painting on a calendar. They made a good team, the horse and the man, striding forward, muscles surging in unison as though they were one.
She’d always loved horses, especially the huge draft animals used for pulling wagons and doing the heavy fieldwork. She and her sisters had often taken turns riding on the horses when her father plowed or cultivated the crops. Sometimes, they’d run behind to pick up earthworms that were turned over by the plow. Later, after supper, her dat would take them all fishing. How she’d missed all this in the years she’d been away from Seven Poplars. And how she ached to have more children of her own that could grow up here and experience the wonderful life that she’d had.
“Please, God,” she whispered. “Find someone for me who will make that possible.” The glass canning jar felt icy cold between her fingers as she started slowly toward Thomas and the long dark cuts the plow had sliced through the thick sod of the pasture.
As she drew closer to the field that Thomas was working, she found that she couldn’t take her gaze off him. Somehow, just watching Thomas and the sturdy draft horse made her smile. This was the life that she knew, simple and honest, and Thomas was the kind of man she understood best. If only he was older, more established, more mature. If only... But he wasn’t, and that was that.
She had to be patient. Sara would find her a settled and respectable widower who needed a wife.
So why did watching Thomas Stutzman send a skittering sensation down her spine? And why was she walking faster, eager to reach him and tell him about her new friends? And why had she lain awake the night they’d gone to Lancaster thinking of what a good time she’d had? She pushed those thoughts away. Thomas was her friend. He was fun to be with, and that was all.
“Leah!” Thomas reined in the horse, and the plow jerked sideways and came to a halt. Thomas looped the lines around the handles of the plow, lowered it onto its side and came to meet her. “What’s that? For me?” He grinned as he reached for the tea, removed the screw top and took a long drink. “Ah, good.” He drank again, and she watched as beads of condensation dripped from the glass jar to run down his sweat-streaked neck.
He was dressed in everyday work clothing: denim trousers, lace-up leather work shoes and a short-sleeved blue shirt. The knees of his pants were patched, and his shirt was faded from long hours in the sun, but he didn’t appear poor or shabby. With his tall, lean frame, narrow waist and broad shoulders, Thomas cut as sharp a figure as ever, she thought, and then chastised herself for doing so. This is only a favor for Sara, she reminded herself sternly. Six weeks of being together, and she’ll find a suitable match for me.
Thomas drained half the jar of tea, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed. “You have no idea how thirsty I was.” He placed the jar in the grass and removed his straw hat. His dark hair was as unruly as ever, thick and shaggy.
“You need a haircut,” she said. “I could...” She broke off. She’d always cut Daniel’s hair, and she’d almost offered to do the same for Thomas. She averted her gaze as she felt a warm flush creep up her throat and cheeks. Such familiarity wasn’t accepted between unmarried couples. Had he been her brother or other close relative, or if he’d been a child, it would have been fine. “Could...mention it to your grandmother,” she finished hastily in an attempt to cover her mistake.
“Ne.” Thomas laughed. “I wouldn’t let her near me with a pair of scissors. Grossmama never wears her glasses. The last time she cut my father’s hair, he looked like a sheep that had just been clipped. On one side, she cut a good two inches shorter than the other.”
Leah chuckled, grateful that he’d not pressed her on her near offer. But then he tilted his head and eyed her mischievously. “Unless, you’d like to—”
“Not me,” she protested, putting her hands up, palms out. “I’d do a far worse job of it.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he retrieved the mason jar and finished the rest of the tea. “Thank you,” he said when he had drained the last drop. “You saved my life.”
“I doubt that.”
“Absolutely.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t resist a smile. Thomas was being charming and he was hard to resist.
“What do you think of this as a spot to plant my garden?” he asked, encompassing the newly plowed field with a sweep of his hand. “The soil is rich, and since Dat put in the pond, the land is draining good.”
“It’s decent-looking soil, for certain.”
He nodded. “I thought I’d start with tomatoes, peppers and greens.”
“Where will you get your plants? It’s a little late to start tomato seedlings, isn’t it?”
“I found someone who will sell me organic seedlings that are a little more mature. I’m going to put in all heritage varieties: Brandywine, Old German, Nebraska Wedding, Cherokee Purple and Mortgage Lifter. I haven’t found a source for organic plum tomatoes, but I will.” He pushed back his hair and put his hat back on, pulling it down tight on his forehead. “You did me a tremendous favor when you took me up to Lancaster to meet Richard and his wife. I appreciate it.”
She shrugged. “It’s nothing. We had a good time.”
“The best,” he said. “Although it did get us in trouble with the bishop.” Together they chuckled, and then he glanced back to where the horse stood patiently. “Actually, I was about to quit for dinner. Mam doesn’t like us to keep her meal waiting. Would you like to eat with us?”
“Ne, I didn’t want to interrupt your workday. It’s just that I met someone at Byler’s and...” She hurried to explain to him about the asparagus and the ready market for the crop. “I thought maybe you’d like to go and take a look,” she suggested. “Of course, it takes years for asparagus roots to take hold, but once they do, it’s easy to care for them and harvest.”
“I’d like that,” he said. “When can we go?”
“Anytime, I suppose. I’ve finished up my chores at Sara’s.” She hesitated. “Honestly, I’m going a little stir-crazy. I’m used to being busy from sunup until evening. It’s strange not having my own home, my own work to be done.”
He met her gaze and something in his told her he understood. “How about this afternoon?”
“Aren’t you going to finish plowing the field?”
Thomas shook his head. “Dat needs the horse to bring in a load of logs from the woods. If you’ll stay for Mam’s fried chicken and dumplings, we can go right after dinner.”
Then she remembered her conversation with Samuel. The same conversation, she learned, he’d had with Thomas first. “Are we supposed to have a chaperone?”
“Are we leaving Seven Poplars?” he teased.
She frowned. “But we’ll be back early. It won’t be dark.” She pursed her lips. “Honestly, Thomas. I think the whole chaperone thing is a little over-the-top. Why should two grown adults need chaperones?”
“We follow church rules, Leah. I should have thought of it before Samuel had to speak to us. I blame myself. You’ve been away from it all, but I don’t have that excuse. It’s a small thing, a chaperone. And if you want to live Amish, you might as well get used to it.”
“Ya, so I tell myself.”
He smiled at her, his dark eyes warm and sparkling. “If you’ll wait while I unhitch Dickie, we can walk back to the house together. I know my mother would be pleased to have you take bread with us. She and my grandmother always cook enough for twenty and then fuss about all the leftovers.”
Leah wasn’t entirely sure she should be sitting down to dinner with Thomas’s family. If they were truly dating, with the intention of soon becoming engaged, that would be one thing, but this—what they were doing—she just didn’t know if she felt comfortable joining the family. But she really did want to stay.
“Come on,” Thomas urged. “You know you like chicken and dumplings. And there will be rhubarb pie. I cut the rhubarb yesterday.”
“Fine.” Leah chuckled. “You’ve convinced me.” She followed him back to where he unhooked the singletree from the plow and carefully knotted the long reins and hung them over the Belgian’s collar. Once Thomas had the horse under control, she approached and stroked his neck. “He’s beautiful,” she said. “I’ve missed horses. We didn’t have any in Brazil. They don’t thrive in the jungle.”
Thomas spoke soothingly to the big horse and began to lead him back across the field toward the house. Leah hurried to keep up. “I remember you riding your father’s horses when you were a kid,” he said. “You Yoder girls were something else.”
“I loved to ride the draft horses,” she admitted. “Their backs were so wide I wasn’t afraid I’d fall off. Miriam showed me how to braid the horse’s mane and pretend that it was the reins.”
He stopped and looked at her. That mischievous smile slid over his face. “Would you like to ride now?”
“Now?” She knew her eyes got big. “But—”
Thomas cut off her protest by stepping close to Dick and cupping his hands for her to use to step up. “Dare you,” he teased.
She glanced around. Who was there to see? Laughing, she caught a handful of Dick’s thick mane, thrust her bare foot into Thomas’s make-do stirrup and scrambled up onto the horse’s back. Once she was up, she turned sideways and sat on him with both feet dangling and her skirt back over her knees, where it belonged.
He nodded approval, took hold of the gelding’s halter and began to lead him once more.
“If we get in trouble for this, it’s your fault,” she declared, but she didn’t care if it wasn’t considered seemly for a woman to be riding a horse. Being up on Dick’s back, feeling the familiar rhythm of the horse’s gait beneath her, was exhilarating. “So if we need a chaperone this afternoon, where are we going to find one on such short notice?” she asked.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll find someone,” Thomas promised. “My mother, my grandfather, maybe even both my grandparents. We’ll have such a strict chaperone that even your aunt Martha won’t have a word to say in criticism.”
Leah chuckled as she remembered her aunt’s disapproving face when she and Uncle Reuben had found them changing the tire in the dark. “Maybe we’d best play it safe and ask Aunt Martha herself,” she joked.
“Ne,” Thomas protested. “Not her. I’d rather Bishop Atlee and both preachers, all crammed into the back of your car and fighting for a window seat.”
The image of that in her mind made her laugh so hard that she had to tightly grip the horse’s mane to keep from slipping off.
* * *
Several hours later, Thomas held open the car door so that his grandmother could get out. “Are you sure that double-dip cone didn’t spoil your appetite for supper?” he teased. Grossmama had agreed to go with them to the asparagus farm, but Thomas had had to promise they would stop for ice cream on the way back. His grandmother loved ice cream. Strawberry. Always strawberry. Luckily, Byler’s Store usually carried strawberry, and it was one of the places where you could still buy an old-fashioned ice-cream cone. Leah had chosen butter pecan, his personal favorite, a single dip, and he’d had two dips of rocky road.
Somehow, in the time that he’d gone into Byler’s to purchase the ice cream, his grandmother had convinced Leah to return to the house to share supper with them. Thomas almost wished she’d refused. While his family had embraced her at the noon meal, he’d felt a little awkward. No one in his family knew that this wasn’t a prelude to a real courtship. Leah had made that clear. He hadn’t thought it was fair to get his family’s hopes up, when in all likelihood, the dating would go nowhere.
The evening meal was a much simpler one: vegetable soup, buttermilk, crusty loaves of yeast bread and another helping of the delicious rhubarb pie. Jakob joined them as he did most evenings, and everyone had lots of questions about the visit to the Masts’ asparagus fields. Thomas always enjoyed this time of evening with his family. Supper was a time for leisurely eating and talking. Sometimes they would sit at the table for more than an hour, and afterward his grandfather would read a short passage from the Bible before everyone scattered.
“I should be going once we clear up the kitchen,” Leah said to his mother. “I’m afraid that I’ve imposed on your hospitality today.”
“Ne,” his mother answered, smiling. “We were glad to have you. Thomas never brings young women home with him.”
“And if you hadn’t come, Leah, I wouldn’t have gotten ice cream,” Grossmama reminded her. “You come every day, if you’ve a mind to it. I’m always free to go here or there.”
Even Jakob seemed taken with her. “I like hearing about far-off places,” he said as he settled down for a game of chess with Grossdaddi.
Leah offered to wash dishes, but his mother shooed her out of the kitchen. “Ne, ne. We can handle this. You and Thomas go sit on the porch and digest your meal.”
“I really should be getting back,” Leah protested. “Sara will wonder what happened to me.”
His grandfather had shaken his head and rubbed his generous belly. “No need to rush away. It will give you a bad stomach. Go and sit on the front porch with Thomas for a little while. And see if you can convince him to let his mother get that splinter out of his thumb.”
“He has a splinter?” Leah asked.
“Ya, and first thing you know, it will turn bad, and he’ll be swollen up to his elbow.” Thomas’s grandfather waggled his finger at him. “A fellow I knew one time, got a little splinter of wood in his foot and ended up with a wooden leg.”
Thomas curled his fist, hiding the offending thumb with its dime-sized, puffy red infection. “It’s nothing. The splinter will work its way out. They always do.”
“Would you let me have a look at it?” Leah asked. “I won’t touch it unless you want me to. But I’ve had a lot of experience removing thorns and splinters at our clinic. Once, I removed a rusty fishing hook that had gone through a child’s hand. Your grandfather’s right, you know. Splinters can cause a great deal of trouble if they aren’t removed and the wound properly cared for.”
Feeling trapped, Thomas looked from one to the other. “All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “I’ll let you look at it.”
“Goot,” his grandmother said as she wiped her hands on her flour-streaked apron. “I’ll get the tweezers.”
“And a needle,” his mother added. “Just in case.”
“Where do you want him?” Grossmama asked. “There may be more light by the window.”
“I think we can go out on the porch,” Leah suggested.
“Just Leah and me,” Thomas said. His mother was handing Leah a spool of thread with a needle thrust through it.
“Tweezers might be better,” his father suggested.
Thomas held open the back door for Leah. “We could sit on the step,” he said. “Or the swing.” This was ridiculous. He didn’t need anyone to dig the splinter out of his thumb. He could do it himself. A little infection made it easier to slide out. He felt foolish and a little ashamed that such a small thing could make him uncomfortable. But he hated needles. He always had. Still, he couldn’t look like a child in front of Leah. What would she think of him?
His mother tried to follow them through onto the porch, but he stood his ground and narrowed his eyes. “Mam,” he said softly. “I think Leah and I can manage one small splinter.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Ya, you young ones want to be alone. I should know that.”
His father called, “Wife.”
His mother handed him the tweezers. “Tell her that the needle is clean.”
His grossmama came to the screen door with alcohol and Dr Ivan’s All-Cure Liniment. It was the same liniment that they used on the livestock, more smell than antiseptic as far as Thomas was concerned, but it was easier to take it than argue. He pulled the wooden door firmly closed behind him and heard his mother and grandmother whispering. His father laughed, and Thomas joined Leah on the porch swing.
“Let me see,” she ordered him.
Nervously, he extended his left hand. She took it between her smaller ones and turned it to examine the infected splinter. “It’s nothing,” he insisted.
“Let me be the judge of that,” she said. “I’m the nurse.” She glanced up and chuckled. “Well, not really a nurse, but close. And don’t worry. I’m not going to poke you with a sewing needle.”
Her fingers were warm. Gentle. He felt himself relax. They were probably right. He should have done something about the splinter before this. He couldn’t afford to lose days due to an injury that didn’t heal properly. Seeing the asparagus fields had made him even more eager to see what he could do with organic vegetables. And Leah’s enthusiasm and suggestions added to his certainty that this was something possible.
“It must be sore,” she said.
“Not bad.” It was, but he wouldn’t admit it. He glanced down. The red circle was growing, but the splinter was in deep. Getting it out wouldn’t be pleasant. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Either we get it out or you go to the emergency room,” she said. “This kind of infection can spread quickly. You can’t afford to let it go any longer.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right. Do your worst.”
“First, we soak it in warm water with salt in it. And then I’ll see what’s in the first-aid kit in my car. If your mother has ice, we can numb your thumb before we attempt to remove it. Sound like a plan?” She smiled at him.
An hour later they were still sitting side by side on the porch swing, and Leah was once again holding his hand. Between the soaking in warm water, the ice, Leah’s soothing touch and her first-aid kit, they’d gotten the splinter out and cleaned up the inflammation. Except for a tiny pinch when the wood came out, it hadn’t hurt. And the small discomfort was more than made up for by the gentleness with which she applied antibacterial ointment and carefully bandaged his thumb.
They’d talked easily about the day, about the rhubarb pie and about the possibility of asparagus and beets and cucumbers, and they’d laughed about his mother and grandmother’s fussing over him. It had been a long time since he’d had such a good time with a young woman, and he’d never spent time with one that he’d been willing to be so open with. He didn’t want the evening to end.
Shadows began to fall across the porch and still they laughed and talked as if they did this every day. Thomas found himself studying her: her eyes, her freckled nose and her lips. What would Leah do, he wondered, if he tried to kiss her? He’d kissed Violet and Mary and Jane, to name a few girls. It had been fun and he’d liked it very much. But, suddenly, he wanted to take Leah into his arms and not just kiss her, but hold her. And he got the feeling she felt the same way.
He leaned closer. For an instant their gazes locked. He looked deep into her clear blue eyes and she began to lean toward him.
And then the moment was gone.
She pulled back and got up. “It’s getting late. It’s been a wonderful day, but it’s time I went back to Sara’s.”
He jumped up. Had he misread her? He was usually good at knowing when a girl wanted to be kissed. And he was pretty sure he hadn’t been mistaken. Not the way she’d looked at him. “Leah.”
“Thank your mother for dinner and for supper,” she said. “And your grandmother for going with us today, to act as chaperone.” She moved away from the swing.
“Leah,” he repeated. “I...”
“Good night, Thomas.” She hurried down the steps and across the yard to her car.
He stood there watching her go, wishing she wouldn’t, wondering if what he thought was happening between them really was.