Emma Miller - A Love For Leah

“I don’t think that would be best,” Leah said firmly. “You know my mother. She’d want to put her spoon in my soup pot. I love this house and I love my family. But I’m not ready to fall into the habit of being a dutiful child again. You know exactly what I mean. I’m sure you’ve seen it before. A young widow returns home to her parents’ house and the next thing you know, twenty-five years have passed and her mother is still cooking her supper and hanging out her laundry. No. I’ll come to your home and put myself in your capable hands.”

She rose and picked up her teacup to carry to the sink. “Find me a husband, Cousin Sara.”

Chapter Two

Leah drove her little car slowly down her mother’s driveway, savoring the familiar sights of green fields, grazing cows and her brother-in-law plowing with a four-horse team. Beside her sat Sara, several quarts of vegetable soup in a basket at her feet.

“It’s so strange to be back in Seven Poplars,” Leah said as she came to a stop at the edge of the blacktop and looked both ways for traffic. A buggy passed the mailbox, and several automobiles approached from the opposite direction, so she waited until it was safe to pull out. “One minute I feel like an outsider, and a few minutes later, it’s as if I never left home.”

“For me, it’s much like that, too,” Sara agreed. “I haven’t been in Delaware that long, but most of the time, I feel like I was born and raised here. Your mother and I have been close since we were children, but I didn’t know anyone else until I got here. It was a pleasant surprise to find all of Seven Poplars so welcoming.”

“I’m so glad.” Leah smiled at her. Plump Sara’s hair was dark and curly, her eyes the shade of ripe blackberries and her complexion a warm mocha. Although a generation older, Sara was a widow like Leah. And Sara had also made major changes in her life after she was left alone.

When it was safe, Leah turned onto the blacktop in her little black Honda and smiled to herself, suddenly glad she’d decided to put her future in Sara’s hands. She instinctively felt she could trust Sara, maybe even more than she could trust herself right now, which was why she’d decided to hire a matchmaker to find her a husband.

“Do you have a preference on where you live?” Sara asked, breaking into Leah’s thoughts. “Does it have to be in Seven Poplars, or just in Delaware?”

Leah nodded. “I’d love to stay in Seven Poplars, but I know that’s not likely. Though maybe you’d find a man looking to relocate here. Anywhere in Delaware would be fine. I just don’t want to live so far from my family and friends that I can’t visit again. I missed them so when I lived in Brazil.”

“I can understand why you’d want to stay here. This is a special community. Still, many young women might wish that they had had your opportunity—to travel so far to another country,” Sara observed. “To see so many different kinds of people and to live in a jungle.”

“It was an amazing experience. I feel blessed to have served God as a missionary. I already miss the friends I made there.” Leah’s throat clenched as she remembered the Brazilians standing on the muddy riverbank to wave goodbye. Small Pio clinging to his grandfather’s leg, gentle Caridade nursing her new baby girl, and the collection of village elders, all in their finest basketball shorts, rubber-tire flip-flops and feathered headdresses. And around them their most precious possessions—the beautiful children, shrieking with laughter, heedless of the ever-present dangers of poisonous snakes, caimans and piranhas in the swirling, dark water.

“Their lives are so different from ours, harsher, and less certain,” Leah murmured. “I went to teach, but ended up receiving far more than I gave.”

“And do you have a timeline in mind? How soon would you like to marry?” Sara asked pointedly.

“As soon as possible.” Leah gripped the wheel, confident in her response. “It’s time I was married, and God willing, I want another child as soon as possible.” It felt good that she could finally keep her voice from breaking when she spoke of being a mother again. God truly was good, and time, if it didn’t heal wounds, made them easier to bear. “Is that a problem?” she asked Sara.

“Not at all,” Sara answered warmly. “You’re past the mourning stage of widowhood. At your age, most would agree, the sooner the better.”

Leah nodded as they approached a tall Amish man striding along on the shoulder of the road. Recognizing him, she slowed and waved. It was her brother-in-law Charley’s friend Thomas Stutzman.

Sara waved and then glanced back at Thomas as they passed him. “Wait! Stop the car.”

Startled, Leah braked, looking anxiously to see if she’d barely missed some hazard. “Something wrong?”

“Ne.” Sara shook her head and motioned toward the side of the road. “Pull over onto the shoulder, can you? We should... I want to give Thomas some soup for his grandparents.”

“Of course.” Leah pulled over and put on her flashers.

Sara got out of the car and motioned to the man. “Thomas! Hop in. We have some soup here for your grandparents.”

Leah watched in the rearview mirror as Thomas approached the car. He and Sara exchanged words, but Leah couldn’t make out any of what they were saying. Then Sara turned back toward the car. “No more than you could have expected. Ellie’s quite set in her ways,” Sara said as she walked back to the car and opened the rear door. “Get in. Leah won’t mind driving you home. You can hardly walk and carry quarts of soup down the road. But you’re headed in the opposite direction. You weren’t headed home, were you?” She gave a wave, indicating again that he should get in. “No matter.”

Thomas, seeming to realize there was no sense arguing with Sara, folded his long frame and climbed into the back. His head nearly brushed the roof so he removed his hat and dropped it into his lap. “Leah,” he said in greeting.

“Thomas.” Her backseat was small, and Thomas had broad shoulders. He took up most of it, even before he removed his hat.

Leah had seen him at church services the previous week. He was Charley’s age, older than she was, but he’d always seemed younger. Her sister Rebecca had told her that Thomas was still unmarried, but walking out with the little schoolteacher. Leah wished her well. Thomas was a good guy, though not the sort of man she’d be interested in. Thomas was far too immature and happy-go-lucky to suit her. And too self-centered.

“Your mother lets you keep a car at her house?” Thomas asked, glancing around the vehicle as he put on his seat belt. “I know you Mennonites drive, but...” He didn’t finish whatever it was he was going to say.

“We do drive.” Leah put the car into gear and eased back onto the road. “This car belonged to my late husband’s cousin. Ben moved to Mexico to serve as a missionary and he gave it to me.”

“Hannah doesn’t object to Leah driving.” Her arms crossed, Sara looked over her shoulder at Thomas. “Leah’s Mennonite sister Grace drives every day, doesn’t she? And Leah’s stepfather has his pickup for veterinary emergencies. Bishop Atlee approved.” She chuckled. “Leah isn’t a child anymore. She respects her mother, but she doesn’t ask for permission on how to conduct herself.”

“That’s what I tell my mother,” Thomas said. “About me.”

Sara made a small sound of disbelief. “And how does that work?”

“Not very well.”

“Didn’t think so,” Sara replied.

“Doesn’t work so well with my mam, either,” Leah said with a grin. “It’s why I’m going to stay at Sara’s.” She kept her eyes on the road. “I’d be happy to drop the soup off at your grandparents’,” she assured him, “if you’re headed somewhere else?”