Carrie Lighte - An Amish Holiday Wedding

Faith’s brother traipsed down the hill in their direction, and Lawrence Miller ambled a few paces behind. They were followed by two young women. Hunter sensed the questions he’d been dreading had only just begun.

* * *

As she watched her peers approach, Faith felt uncharacteristically peevish.

Ordinarily, she relished the time she spent chatting with the other women during Sabbath dinner cleanup, but today Lawrence’s fiancée, Penelope Lapp—an eighteen-year-old deacon’s daughter who lived in a neighboring town—was visiting her relatives in Willow Creek. After church, Faith overheard Penelope fawning over Henrietta’s infant, claiming she hoped God would bless her with a baby by this time next year.

Although Faith no longer felt any romantic attachment to Lawrence, it distressed her to be reminded of why they’d broken up. She escaped to the creek to gather her composure, only to be discovered by Hunter, who pointed out what a “little wisp of a thing” she used to be and made her sentimental by calling to mind a long-forgotten memory of her departed father.

If all that weren’t unsettling enough, now she was going to have to exchange pleasantries with Lawrence!

“Hunter, how gut it is to see you,” Mason said, clapping him on the back.

Lawrence did the same and Hunter responded in kind.

“Please meet Katie Fisher,” Faith’s brother said. “She’s the schoolteacher here.”

“And this is Penelope Lapp,” Lawrence stated. “My intended.”

“Your intended?” Hunter repeated.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Lawrence ribbed him. “I’m twenty-two, almost twenty-three. It’s past time for me to marry and start a family.”

Faith winced, supposing if it weren’t for the time he lost courting her, Lawrence wouldn’t feel his marriage and family plans were behind schedule.

“How about you, Hunter?” Penelope asked. “Are you betrothed or walking out with someone?”

“Neh,” was all he said.

“ Neh? That’s a surprise,” Lawrence replied. To Penelope, he explained, “Hunter lived here for a while when he was sixteen and he was so sought after, he had his choice of meed . He could have courted anyone he wanted.”

Faith’s irritation was becoming more difficult to suppress—it sounded as if Lawrence were describing horses at an auction, not young women.

“Did you want him to court you, Faith?” Penelope asked.

“I was only thirteen!” Faith exclaimed. “Despite what some people may think, not every maedel’s sole dream is to get married as soon as she possibly can.”

She was appalled by Penelope’s nerve. Even if Faith had developed a crush on someone as a schoolgirl, it wasn’t something she’d discuss, especially not in front of male acquaintances. Courtships and romance among the Amish tended to be private matters.

“He didn’t court or even favor anyone, if I recall,” Lawrence said. “He claimed he didn’t believe in courting unless he intended to marry, and since he was only sixteen and lived in Indiana, there was no point in walking out with anyone here. He was probably the only person who actually attended our singings just for the singing.”

Penelope sniggled but Katie asserted, “ I attended singings in my district primarily for the singing when I was a youth. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Faith smiled at the stout, dark-haired woman. She always appreciated Katie’s forthright manner, and she was glad Mason was walking out with her. When Faith glanced at Hunter, she noticed he was shifting his weight from foot to foot, as if embarrassed by the conversation. She couldn’t blame him and she quickly switched topics.

“Speaking of youth, Hunter and I were just talking about how you boys used to spend time down here at the creek,” she said to Mason. “Do you remember the footbridge?”

“ Jah , of course.” Mason regaled the others with the anecdote about their footbridge disaster and subsequent submersion in the creek.

“After your daed pulled us out, he promised if you finished the fieldwork early the following week, he’d help us build a sturdier bridge,” Hunter recalled.

“ Jah , and you were so excited that after working all day for Ruth, you’d come and help us every evening in the fields and on Saturday, as well,” Mason reminisced, shaking his head. “My daed frequently commented about what a strong, dedicated worker you were. I often had to ask Gott to forgive my envy.”

“He’s still strong—look at those shoulders,” Lawrence observed, lightly punching Hunter’s arm.

Faith wasn’t certain if she imagined it, but Hunter’s face seemed to go gray. Was it modesty or the cold wind that caused him to set his jaw like that? Although as a boy, he was as congenial as could be, there was something stilted about his posture now that gave him an air of aloofness. Ordinarily, Faith would have been put off by an unsociable demeanor, but she sensed Hunter was uncomfortable with the attention, and she wanted to spare him further uneasiness.

“The bridge is still standing,” she informed Hunter. “This past summer I brought my nephew down to the water so he could cross it.”

Hunter visibly relaxed his shoulders. “I’m not surprised,” he said, looking directly at Faith as he smiled. “Your daed made sure it was durable.”

“I’d like to see it,” Penelope suggested. “Why don’t the men lead the way?”

Faith had never taken Lawrence to the bridge before, and she didn’t want him visiting it now. The bridge belonged to another part of her life; it belonged to her dad and brothers and nephews—and even to Hunter. But not to Lawrence. “I really ought to return to the house—” she started to say.

“There’s no need to hurry back,” insisted Penelope. “If you’re hungry, there will still be leftovers in another hour. And it’s not as if you need to dash to the evening singing to meet a suitor, is it?”

Faith huffed. She never mentioned wanting to eat, and she didn’t appreciate Penelope’s digging for information about whether she was being courted. “Actually, my concern is that I ought to be helping clean up.”

“But who knows when I’ll be back here again?” Penelope sounded like a wheedling child. “Please, Faith?”

“Alright,” Faith agreed, “ kumme along.” She had no idea why it was so important to Penelope to see the footbridge, but she gave in since the young woman was a guest in their district. As a member of the host family, it was up to Faith to be especially hospitable to her. But that didn’t mean she was going to let the men take the lead.

* * *

Although Faith courteously accommodated Penelope’s request, as she pivoted toward the woods Hunter noticed the spark in her eyes. What put it there? Why did she suddenly say she needed to get back to the house? Was it really that she wanted to help clean up, or did Faith have a suitor waiting after church for her? Hunter didn’t know why the possibility caused him to experience a twinge of disappointment now, when only yesterday he assumed she was being courted. But perhaps that wasn’t the reason she wanted to leave at all. Maybe Faith was simply tiring of Penelope’s intrusive inquiries.

Hunter sure was. He gladly would have returned to the house, too, but the only thing he wanted to do less than hike along the creek was to explain why he didn’t want to hike along the creek. He intended to avoid discussing his injuries as long as he could. After all, what would Lawrence say once he knew Hunter developed such broad shoulders from months of turning the wheels of a wheelchair and hoisting himself along the parallel bars at the clinic? Would Mason think Hunter was less of a hard worker when he found out he’d lost his job because he wasn’t mobile enough to meet the assembly quota at the RV factory? Would it suddenly dawn on all of them why he was no longer “sought after” as a bachelor? What might Faith—not just as his employer, but as a woman near his age—think of him then?