Emma Miller - A Love For Leah

“He seems like a respectable man. I doubt Sara would invite him if he wasn’t.” Seeing that there were dirty dishes and silverware in the sink, he rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands and began to run warm water over the dishes. “I may as well wash these up,” he said. A dishwasher was the one appliance Sara didn’t have. With so much available help, she’d never seen the need.

“Are they still playing Dutch Blitz?” Leah placed the sandwich halves on a tray one by one. “I saw you won the first round.”

“Lost the second,” he said. “Ya, they’re playing. Couples now.” He reached under the sink for the dishwashing soap. “So, you’ve decided to let Sara make a match for you?”

Leah glanced over at him. “God willing. Sara seems pretty optimistic.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Is she trying to find a wife for you?”

“I’m thinking about it. Ellie suggested it.” He made a face. “I haven’t had any success on my own.”

Leah tried to open a quart jar of spiced peaches, but the lid was stuck. “Do you think you could open this?” Her vivid blue eyes regarded him hopefully. “Sometimes these lids are on so tight that it’s impossible to get them off.”

“Sure.” Thomas dried his hands on a towel and took the peaches. The ring gave easily under his strength. Without asking, he opened the other jar that she’d put on the counter beside the sandwiches. “Here you go.”

“Danki.”

Leah smiled her thanks and he was struck again by just how attractive she was. She didn’t look like a woman who’d been married and had a child. She hardly looked more than nineteen. Before she’d wed Daniel Brown and gone to Brazil with him, most people said she was the prettiest girl in Kent County, Amish or Englisher. He and Leah had never dated because she was a lot younger than he was and didn’t run with the same crowd. It was a shame she’d suffered such loss. But it did his heart good to see her here, still able to smile after all she’d been through.

Leah dumped the peaches into a blue-flowered bowl. “I’m surprised that you and Ellie are still speaking, let alone her giving you advice on finding a wife.”

He grimaced. “I’ll admit that I’m still smarting from the blow of her refusing me, but we’re too good of friends to let that come between us.”

“Sensible.”

“She’s special, Ellie. She’ll make some man a good wife. I’m just sorry it won’t be me.”

“It says something about you, Thomas,” Leah said, “that her being a little person didn’t matter to you. If you had married, your children may have been short statured, like her.”

“Ya, I did think about that. But it would have been in God’s hands. And who’s to say that being six feet tall is any better than being four feet tall?”

“Your parents didn’t mind?”

Thomas returned to washing the utensils in the sink. “My father huffed and puffed, but my grandfather reminded him that he had an uncle who had only one arm. He said that Uncle Otto could outwork any man he knew. And once Mam and Dat got to know Ellie, it wasn’t a problem anymore.”

“Your grandfather sounds like a wise man.”

“And a good one. He’s been good to me. My brother will inherit my father’s farm, but my grandfather has promised his to me. I was supposed to take up his trade, his and my dat’s, of smithing, but I’m not sure it’s what I want to do.” He lifted a dripping colander from the soapy water and rinsed it under the tap.

“Were you trained as a blacksmith?”

He nodded. “Ya. I was, but I think everyone is beginning to realize I may not be cut out for it. Grossdaddi has arranged for a new apprentice, Jakob Schwartz from Indiana. He’s arriving tomorrow.” Taking a clean towel, Thomas carefully dried the colander and put it in the cabinet under the sink. “Jakob’s little, like Ellie, but Grossdaddi says he has the makings of a fine smith.” He glanced at her. “You need the strength in the arms. Height doesn’t matter.”

Leah removed her oversize work apron. She was wearing a dark plum dress with a starched white Mennonite prayer kapp. “I suppose I should get these sandwiches out there.”

“The platter is heavy. Let me,” he offered.

“I can do it. I’m used to lifting heavy objects. Once, one of our parishioners brought home a quarter of a cow.” Leah rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask where he’d gotten the beef. There was always a running feud between the farmers and the indigenous people.” She picked up the tray.

“What was it like, living among them?”

“Wonderful. Awful. I never knew what kind of day we were going to have, one where nothing happened or one where the world turned upside down.” She chuckled. “A fine missionary I turned out to be. I could never even pronounce or spell the name our people called themselves. They are listed in our rolls as the St. Joseph tribe or the St. Joes.”

“I’d like to hear more about them,” Thomas admitted. “I’m curious as to what they’re like.”

She gave him a surprised look and set the tray down. “Really? You’re one of the few to ask. Since I’ve come home, I mean.”

He nodded. “Ya, I’m sure. But I’ve always been interested in the English world.” He grimaced. “That didn’t sound right, did it?”

She chuckled. “Ne, Thomas, it didn’t. I wouldn’t expect you to know, but I can’t imagine a life more un-English than our village. But to them, it is all the world. Like us, most of the St. Joes want to remain apart, with their customs and their jungle.”

He felt a flush of tingling warmth at the way she said his name, slow and sweet. He shifted his feet, suddenly feeling the conversation was getting too serious. “But what about that mysteriously acquired beef? Did you eat it?”

She laughed. “We all did. It was the season when protein is scarce. There were hungry people to be fed, so I asked the women to light the cook fires and we had a feast. Our refrigeration unit was very small, just used for medicine. Daniel was concerned that it would set a bad precedent, but I said, ‘Eat the cow or let her go to waste, and that doesn’t sound very sensible.’”

“And did Daniel eat the meat?”

Leah shook her head. “It didn’t keep me from enjoying every bite.”

Thomas laughed, then grew more serious. “This has got to be hard...coming home. Starting again.”

“Ya,” Leah agreed.

Thomas’s throat tightened. Leah had suffered a great loss. He had to admire her courage. “So I guess this—” he motioned toward the gathering beyond the door “—is as awkward for you as it is for me?”

“It is,” she said. “I didn’t want to come.” She shrugged. “But Sara is very persuasive.”

“Truer words,” Thomas agreed as he picked up the platter of sandwiches. “So...back we go to meet Sara’s likely candidates and hope for the best.”

“Ya.” Leah’s smile was mischievous. “And be prepared to hear a lot more about Holsteins.”

Chapter Three

Thomas pushed open the sliding wooden doors to his grandfather’s forge to catch some of the midmorning breeze. It was stifling inside, and he’d started to beat the last of the wrought-iron hinges into shape. Returning to his task, he used long-handled tongs to lift a smoking hinge into the sunlight to get a good look at it before plunging it back into the glowing coals.

His grandfather watched, faded blue eyes narrowed with concentration. “Goot,” he said. “A little more. Feel the shape in your mind, Thomas. Strike hard and true.”

Thomas swung the hammer again and again. The shock resonated through his body, but he paid it no mind. He was used to it. He didn’t mind hard work. It was this work he disliked.