Patricia Davids - Their Pretend Amish Courtship

“You’re right. There are good, hardworking people everywhere. If only hard work were enough to keep this place going. I’m glad my father isn’t here to see how I’ve run it into the ground.”

“You took care of your father as well as any daughter could. It wasn’t possible to grow the business while he was so ill. You had a mountain of your father’s medical bills to pay and you have done that. You will get this place back to the way it was and even better.”

Fannie followed Connie’s gaze as she glanced around the farm. Only four of the twelve stalls in the long, narrow barn were being used by boarders. The barn was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. The red paint was faded and peeling in places. Cobwebs hung from the rafters. A soggy spot at the end of the alley showed where the roof leaked, but all the Haflinger horses in the paddock and pasture were well cared for, with shining coats that gleamed golden brown in the sunshine. Connie took excellent care of her animals.

Attached to the barn was an indoor riding area where Connie’s nine-year-old daughter, Zoe, was practicing her trick-riding moves on her Haflinger mare. Connie had once crisscrossed the United States performing at rodeos and equestrian events as a trick rider herself. She paused in her work to watch her daughter.

“I have got to make a go here, Fannie. I have to leave my daughter something besides tarnished belt buckles, fading ribbons and debts. I don’t want to sell any of this land. My father made me promise that I wouldn’t and I want to honor his wishes. After I’m gone, Zoe will be free to sell or stay. That will be my gift to her. A woman should be able to choose her own path in life.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Connie shot her a puzzled glance. “Strange words coming from an Amish lass. I thought an Amish woman’s goal in life was to be a wife and a mother.”

“It is for most of the women, but I can’t imagine being so tied down. I certainly don’t want to marry and give some oaf the right to boss me around.” To give up riding horses was like asking her to give up part of her soul.

“Does that mean you are thinking about leaving the Amish? I know some young people do, but won’t you be shunned if you decide to leave?”

“My church believes each person must make that choice. If I leave before I am baptized into the faith, I won’t be punished, but I know my parents won’t allow me to continue staying at home. If I do decide not to be baptized, I was hoping I could work for you full-time and get my own place someday.”

“If your plan with the drill team works out, I sure would consider taking you on full-time. I’ve never seen anyone as good with horses as you are. But don’t give up on the idea of marriage. I can’t see you settling for an oaf. It will take a special fellow to get harnessed to you, but I think he exists and I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I don’t think he exists and I’m sure not going to waste my time looking for him.”

“If I’d had that attitude before I met Zack, I wouldn’t have Zoe now. It was a fair trade. Look at that girl go. She is fearless.” Maternal pride glowed on her face as she watched her daughter circling the arena on her horse.

“She’s really getting good,” Fannie said. Trick riding was something she had always wanted to try.

“Better than I was at her age. I shouldn’t encourage her, but I can’t help it. The girl is like a sponge. She soaks in everything I tell her. I guess I’m one of those mothers who relive their glory days through their kids.”

“Do you miss it?”

Connie paused in her work. “Sometimes I do, but that life is behind me along with my failed marriage to Zoe’s father. Dad’s illness was the excuse I used to come home, but that wasn’t the whole truth. I missed staying in one place. Zack was the one with a restless spirit. Besides, I didn’t want Zoe to grow up in a camper, always headed down the road to the next rodeo. I wanted her to have a home—a real home—and Dad gave us that.”

She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Point your toes down, Zoe. Keep those legs straight and arch your back more.”

“Like this?” Zoe shouted.

“That’s better. That’s a pretty good hippodrome stand.”

Zoe grinned and waved one hand in acknowledgment as she stood atop the back of a gently loping golden horse with a wide white blaze down its face.

“Zoe is going to miss you,” Connie said, turning back to Fannie.

“Don’t give up on me yet. I may still find a way to stay.” Fannie had no idea what that would be, but she wouldn’t stop trying.

Connie put down her brush and motioned toward a pitchfork leaning against the wall. “Good. Until then, you still have work to do. I don’t pay you much, but I expect you to earn it.”

Fannie laughed as she picked up the fork. “I would exercise your horses for free, but cleaning stalls will still cost you.”

Connie untied the lead ropes of both horses. “I’ll put these two away. You start on stall five and work your way down. George should be here soon. That man is always late. I wish I hadn’t hired him.”

George was another part-time stable hand at the farm. Connie insisted she couldn’t afford full-time help, but in Fannie’s eyes, George wasn’t worth even part-time wages. He spent most of his time flirting with the girls in Fannie’s riding group—or any woman who came to the farm.

Connie motioned toward her daughter. “I’ll be back after I help Zoe with her technique. She’s getting flat-footed again and that’s dangerous, even on Misty.”

Fannie set to work in the stall Connie had indicated, but her mind wasn’t on the tasks before her. She still had to find a way to convince her parents that Betsy was the one they needed to send to Florida. No amount of pleading by her and her sister had changed their mother’s mind so far. Their father might be persuaded, but their mother was adamant.

If only Noah had agreed to her plan. She wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn’t. He was right. Her idea bordered on being dishonest, even if it was for a good cause. She didn’t want to be courted by anyone, but having Noah reject her outright was humiliating. She wasn’t that ugly, was she? There had been a time when she liked him—a lot. She tossed a forkful of straw into the wheelbarrow at her side.

She had liked being kissed by him, too. A lot. Jabbing the fork into the pile of dirty straw, she tried to forget about that night. She was the dummkopf for dumping her drink on him. He sure wouldn’t try that again.

“Fannie, can I talk to you?”

She shrieked and spun around at the sound of Noah’s voice, sending her forkful of dirty straw flying in his direction.

Chapter Three

Noah stared at the debris clinging to his navy blue ball-uniform pants and white socks. “Remind me to make sure you have empty hands before I speak to you in the future.”

He looked up to see Fannie’s shocked expression change to a guarded one. “Why are you here? Was there some insult you forgot to offer?”

“My first instinct is to say I’m saving one for another day, but I’m actually here to apologize and to hear you out.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you’ll help me?”

He brushed down the front of his pants. Was he really going to go through with this? “Are you going to keep throwing things at me?”

“That was an accident.”

“Accidents seem to happen around you often.” At least, it seemed that way to him, as he’d been on the receiving end of them more than once.

She folded her arms over her chest. “I thought you were going to apologize.”

Time to get on with it. “Fannie, please accept my apology for calling you crazy.”