Mary Davis - Courting Her Amish Heart

Kathleen reached for them. “What are you doing with my things?”

He put them in the back of his open buggy. “Even if you refuse a ride, I can at least take your belongings to your destination so you don’t have to cart them along behind you.” He held out his hand to her. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride? This is the hottest part of the day.”

“What would your wife say to you picking up a woman you don’t know?”

Pain flickered across his features and left just as quickly. “I’m widowed.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. She passed three years ago.”

“I thought with your beard...” She needed to just stop talking. But why did he still wear one? It wasn’t her place to ask. So he wasn’t married after all. That was gut to know. Ne, it wasn’t. The poor man had lost his wife. And she had no room in her life to consider courting and marriage.

He must have noticed her staring because he rubbed his jaw. “I’ve been meaning to shave this off. Thought about doing so this morning.”

Three years? And he still wore a beard? That was none of her business.

“So what do you say to that ride?” His mouth quirked up on one side.

That caused her insides to dance. Though she didn’t want to hurry her journey along, she certainly wasn’t enjoying the hike. She had wanted this time alone to gather her thoughts. But her hand reached out for his.

Strong, calloused and work worn. Comforting.

He helped her up into the front seat and with him came the distinct aroma of fresh-cut wood and something sweet.

She had rarely ever ridden in the front. This was an open buggy and still daylight, so there wouldn’t be anything inappropriate about accepting his offer. For what she had spent the past fourteen years doing and what she planned to do in the near future, she needed to make sure everything else she did was beyond reproof. She didn’t want to give the church leadership any more reasons than necessary to refuse her offer of help.

He climbed in next to her and set the buggy into motion. Strangely, he didn’t dive into conversation and questions like the English, who felt the need to fill every silence. He just drove. Down one road and then another. Turning here and there. How odd that the silence wasn’t in the least awkward. Sitting next to this man—this stranger—was comfortable.

And honey. He smelled of wood and honey. Very comforting, indeed.

Solar panels winking off a roof caught her attention. An Englisher must have bought that farm. When she’d left, it had belonged to one of the Lehman families. Another house also had solar panels. And then the next one. They couldn’t have all been sold out of the community. Amish liked to keep Amish property in the family, and if not, sell it to another Amish. “Did Englishers buy several of these farms?”

“Ne.”

“But what about the solar panels? They aren’t allowed.”

“They are now.”

She’d thought about how nice this form of electricity would be for the Amish and planned to bring it up to the leaders—after she got her clinic going. What other changes had taken place in her absence? Did her parents have solar panels?

When he turned onto the road that passed her parents’ home, she faced him. “How did you know where I was going?”

“You’re Kathleen Yoder. Your parents are David and Pamela Yoder.”

“How did you know?”

“Everyone knows who you are. The girl who went away to become a doctor.”

She couldn’t tell if that was sarcasm in his voice or something...something less negative. Dare she hope admiration? What was she thinking? Of course not. Her devout Amish neighbors would never condone her actions without permission from the bishop. But that didn’t matter. She would help them whether they liked it or not. She had a plan. In time, she hoped they would see the gut in what she’d done.

Lord, let them see I did it for them. For all of them.

* * *

Noah clucked to the horse and flicked the reins to keep Fred moving. He still couldn’t reconcile the strange sight that he’d found on the roadside.

Kathleen Yoder. Strolling along like a distant memory or faded dream.

She wasn’t at all what he’d pictured. He’d heard so many stories about her that he’d thought she’d be taller. More of a person to be reckoned with. He’d expected her to be more forceful. Not demure. How was she ever going to forge her way to be a doctor in their community? A doctor close at hand could prevent many senseless deaths. He admired her tenacity to do what no other Amish would. Woman or man.

And if she could come back after nearly a decade and a half, that gave him hope that another might too.

He certainly never anticipated her to be pretty, with her dark brown hair, steady blue eyes and heart-shaped face. Why would she have wanted to leave and pursue something like medicine against the leadership’s wishes? She could have married any man she wanted. Every young man must have had his sights on courting her.

“Stop the buggy.” Her words came out half-strangled.

“Why? We’re almost there.”

“That’s why. Please stop. Please.” She grabbed the reins and pulled back. Her hands brushed against his.

Fred eagerly obeyed.

Her touch sent a tingle shuddering up Noah’s arm. Before he could put on the brake and even before the horse came to a complete stop, Kathleen jumped to the ground and circled behind the buggy.

He set the brake and climbed down.

Kathleen paced behind the buggy, muttering to herself in English. “I stood up to Dr. Wilson with all his old-fashioned treatments that weren’t evidence-based. I had been right, and the patient lived. I can do this. I can face my family and the community without shame for my disobedience.”

He watched her for a moment. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to gain my courage. I thought I’d have this whole walk—” she swung one arm back the way she’d come “—to think about what to say to my parents. Planned it all out. And prepared myself if they don’t give me a warm welcome.”

“I’m sure they’ll welc—”

“What will I say to my younger siblings? Are any of them even left at home? The baby that was born the year after I left. Samuel. He’d be thirteen. And Jessica would be only fifteen. They won’t even know me. Are Benjamin and Joshua still enjoying Rumspringa? Or are they too old? Have they joined church? And Ruby should be considering marriage. I wonder if she’s being courted by anyone? And Gloria is certainly married.”

She was really worked up. He felt bad that she was so distraught. Dare he try again to console her, to let her know all would be well?

Another buggy came up the lane. Noah motioned for the driver to keep going. He didn’t think Kathleen needed someone else to witness her distress.

The young man nodded and kept moving.

Noah nodded back.

“Who was that? Someone I would know? Do you think he recognized me?”

“I think you know him. That was Benjamin Yoder.”

Kathleen stopped fidgeting and stared at him. “My brother? Benjamin?”

Her steady blue gaze warmed him. He nodded.

With a wistful expression, Kathleen studied the retreating buggy. “My brother.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t have recognized him. Do you think he recognized me?”

“I don’t think he got a very gut loo—”

“Of course he didn’t recognize me.” Kathleen resumed her pacing. “I’ve been gone for fourteen years, and he was so young when I left. How could he?”

“Kathleen?”

“How will any of them remember me?”

“Kathleen?”

“I will be as a stranger to them. All of them.”

Noah grabbed both of her hands to calm her. “Kathleen, look at me.”