Carrie Lighte - Anna's Forgotten Fiancé

“Melinda told me a bit about you, but I have so many questions, I don’t know where to start,” she confessed.

“Why don’t I give you the basics and if there’s anything else you want to know, you can ask?” Fletcher questioned. When Anna nodded in agreement, he said, “Let’s see—my name is Fletcher Josiah Chupp and I’m twenty-four. My daed was a carpenter. He and my mamm passed away by the time I was fifteen. I have three older sisters, all married, and sixteen nieces and nephews. I moved to Willow Creek, Pennsylvania, from Green Lake, Ohio, in September. My onkel Isaiah had been in dire need of another carpenter on his crew for some time.”

“Because my daed died?”

Fletcher glanced down at his fingers, which he pressed into a steeple. “Jah. Your daed worked for Isaiah and he had a reputation among the Englisch of being an excellent carpenter. He left a big gap in my onkel’s business. No one could ever fill his shoes.”

“No one could ever replace him as a daed, either,” Anna murmured. After a pause, she asked, “So then, you live with your ant and onkel, and with Aaron and his sisters?”

“Neh. There wasn’t room enough for me there. I live in my groosdaaddi’s home.”

“Elmer! Your groossdaadi is Elmer Chupp! I remember him,” Anna exclaimed. Then she realized aloud, “But of course I would, wouldn’t I? I’ve known him for years. He was my daed’s first employer, before Isaiah took over their family business. You must greet him for me.”

Fletcher rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want to distress you, Anna, but my groossdaadi died in late December from pneumonia.”

“Neh! Oh, neh!” Anna’s bottom lip began to quiver.

“His passing was peaceful and it’s a blessing to know he’s not suffering the pain he endured toward the end,” Fletcher said. “He always appreciated the soups and meals you made for him. And you were very consoling to me while I mourned.”

“Dear Elmer Chupp.” Anna clucked sorrowfully. “Didn’t you say you lived with him?”

“Jah, I moved in with him when I first arrived in Pennsylvania,” Fletcher clarified. “Now I live there alone. After you and I became betrothed, I discovered Groossdaadi willed his house to me, as his first grandson to tell the family of my intention to marry. For some reason, Groossdaadi chose not to follow the traditional Amish practice of bequeathing it to his youngest son, my onkel Isaiah. In any case, there were property taxes due, which you and I paid from my construction salary and your savings from working at Schrock’s Shop, so the house is as gut as ours.”

Anna’s mind was reeling. She and Fletcher owned a house? On one hand, getting married and setting up her own household was a desire she’d harbored for years. On the other hand, with every new piece of information revealed to her, she was becoming increasingly uneasy at how seriously her life was intertwined with the life of a man who seemed like a virtual stranger, albeit, an appealingly thoughtful and stalwart one.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she admitted, “I’m confused about the timing. In Willow Creek, it’s customary for most Amish couples to keep their courtships as private as they can. They wait until July or August to tell their immediate families that they intend to marry. Their wedding intentions aren’t published in church until October, and wedding season follows in November and December, after harvest. Yet Melinda says it’s now March. Why did we already tell our families we intend to marry next fall?”

“We actually intend to marry next month,” Fletcher responded. “You don’t recall, but last October, Willow Creek was struck by a tornado. So many houses were damaged that Bishop Amos allowed those betrothed couples who needed to help their families rebuild to postpone their weddings until April. Of course, you and I were just getting to know each other last October, so we weren’t yet engaged, but by January, we were certain we wanted to get married. We decided to take advantage of the bishop’s special provision allowing for spring weddings this year.”

“We only met in September and we’re getting married in April?” Anna asked, unable to keep her voice from sounding incredulous. Six months was a brief courting period for any couple, and it seemed especially out of character for her. She had walked out with Aaron for over two years. As fondly as she dreamed of becoming a wife and a mother, lingering qualms had kept her from saying yes to Aaron’s proposals, no matter how many times he asked. How was it she’d decided so quickly to marry Fletcher?

“Jah,” he stated definitively. “As we confirmed to the deacon, we fully and unequivocally believe the Lord has provided us for each other.”

Anna understood the implications. Prior to making their engagements public, Amish couples underwent a series of meetings with the deacon during which time the couple received counseling on the seriousness of entering into a marriage relationship. Although Anna had no recollection of those meetings, she knew if she and Fletcher completed the series and announced their intentions, it meant they were resolute about getting married.

“Have the wedding intentions been published in church?”

“They were announced on Sunday,” Fletcher replied. “We’ll be wed on Tuesday, April 7, five days before Easter and a week before Melinda and Aaron get married.”

Anna inhaled sharply. “Melinda and Aaron are getting married?”

“Uh-oh,” Fletcher said, smacking his forehead with his palm. “I assumed Melinda already told you.”

“She probably didn’t want to upset me.”

Fletcher cocked his head. “Why would Melinda marrying Aaron upset you?”

“I d-don’t know,” Anna stammered. “I have no idea why I said that.”

She was far more concerned about her own wedding than Melinda’s. I might as well be marrying the prince of England as this man, for as foreign as he is to me, Anna thought, deeply disturbed. Perhaps I should consider canceling our upcoming nuptials?

“You were so excited after the intentions were published that you mailed the invitational letters to all of our out-of-town friends and family members first thing on Monday morning,” Fletcher said. “Of course, the leit at church were invited and I extended several personal invitations on Monday evening, as well.”

Upon hearing just how far their plans had progressed, Anna felt as overwhelmed by the prospect of calling off the wedding as she was by the prospect of carrying through with it. She silently prayed, Please, Lord, if I really do know and love Fletcher Chupp and believe he’s Your intended for me, help me to remember soon. If he isn’t, please make me certain of that, too.

* * *

Fletcher noticed Anna’s face blanched at his words and he worried she might cry—or faint. “This must be a lot to take in,” he said, trying to reassure himself as well as to console her. “The doctor said your physical well-being is the priority, and if you get enough rest your memories should take care of themselves.”

Fletcher could always tell when Anna’s smile was genuine because she had a small dimple in her right cheek. He saw no sign of it as she responded, “I can’t imagine there will be much time for me to rest, with two weddings planned. I wonder how Naomi has been faring.”

From his discussions with her, Fletcher knew how concerned Anna had been about her stepmother ever since Anna’s father died. Naomi, who periodically suffered from immobilizing depression, was so grief stricken in the months following Conrad’s death that Anna had almost single-handedly managed their household, with sporadic help from Melinda. In addition to caring for Eli and Evan, comforting Naomi and tending to the cooking, cleaning, laundering and gardening, Anna also worked at a shop in town so she could contribute to the household expenses. Her cheerful diligence was one of the qualities Fletcher most admired about her.