Jan Drexler - An Amish Courtship

Today, as he rounded the corner of the woodlot, Sadie was nowhere to be seen. Mary was in the garden, attacking the weeds with a hoe.

“You don’t need to do that, you know.”

She jumped as he spoke, but relaxed when she recognized him.

“Good morning to you, too.” She straightened and gave him a smile. “And why don’t I need to weed the garden?”

“I do the heavy chores for Sadie. I always have.”

“But Ida Mae and I are here now, so we can take care of things.”

Samuel stared at her. He had to admit that there had been times when he had wished for someone else to take on the responsibility of watching out for Sadie, but now that Mary was offering, he didn’t want to let it go. He clenched his hand, as if he could keep a wisp of smoke from slipping through it.

“At least I can clean out the chickens’ pen.”

She shook her head as she continued hoeing. “I’ve already finished that. Chester’s stall, too.”

Samuel looked around the orderly farmyard. “You’ve cut the grass?”

“Ida Mae did.”

“Then I’ll fix the hole in Chester’s stall. Sadie told me about it yesterday and I said I’d get to it today.”

Mary got to the end of the row and looked at him.

“You fixed the stall, too?”

“Ja, for sure.” Her brown eyes twinkled in the morning sunlight. “My sister and I were taught to do all of the chores around the farm. Daed’s thinking was that everyone in the family needed to know how to do chores, from cooking breakfast to mucking stalls. So, we learned.”

“And you’ve left me with nothing to do.” Samuel felt the growl in his voice.

“There is something we do want you to do.” Mary’s face lit up. “We hoped you could bring Judith and Esther over for a sewing frolic. Just the five of us. Aunt Sadie knows so much that she can teach us, and we all need new dresses for summer.” She twisted the hoe handle. “I’m sure the girls could make a new shirt or two for you, too.”

Samuel scratched at his chin. The skin was itchy and irritated after being shaved this morning.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of deal?”

“I’ll bring my sisters over tomorrow morning, like you said, if you let me do some of the work around here. There are some fence rails that need replacing, along with a few other things, so I’ll have plenty to do.”

She pressed her lips together, as if relinquishing the fence mending was the last thing she wanted to do.

“All right,” she said. “You can mend the fence. But bring your sisters, and any fabric they might have. Even an old dress we can make over into something new.”

Esther’s faded and ragged sleeve edge flashed through his mind. He would make sure his sisters each chose a dress length of fabric while they were in town this afternoon. Maybe he would sell two hogs. Then he thought of the shadowed look on Esther’s face. She would appreciate the time she spent with Sadie just as much as he did.

He nodded. “We have an agreement.”

Samuel stuck out his hand to seal the deal the way he would with another farmer and Mary hesitated, then slipped her slender one into his, her grip firm.

“Agreed.”

* * *

Tuesday morning Mary came back to the house after the morning barn chores to find Sadie and Ida Mae already sitting at the breakfast table waiting for her.

“I didn’t think I was that late,” Mary said, slipping into her chair at the small table.

“You aren’t.” Sadie folded her hands in preparation for their silent prayer. “We have company coming this morning, so we got breakfast started early.”

Mary bent her head over her own folded hands, struggling to force her thoughts away from Sadie’s comment. After a brief, silent prayer of thanks, she raised her head. Sadie sat with her fork poised, waiting for her to finish.

“I had nearly forgotten that the Lapps would be here today.” Mary cut a slice of sausage with the side of her fork.

“I’m glad Samuel is bringing the girls,” Sadie said. “I always enjoy their company.”

Ida Mae served herself some scrambled eggs from the bowl in the center of the round table. “Samuel looks different when he smiles. He was so gruff when we first met him, but then when he smiled, I nearly didn’t recognize him.”

Sadie sipped her coffee again. “He looks much like his grandfather did, years ago. Quite good-looking.”

“You knew his grandfather?” Ida Mae picked up the ketchup bottle. “That must have been a long time ago.”

“I was only sixteen when he asked to walk me home from Saturday night singing.”

Ida Mae stared at Sadie. “Did he court you?”

Sadie pointed at Ida Mae’s eggs. “You’re putting on too much ketchup.”

Ida Mae put the bottle down. Her eggs were covered with the sauce.

Mary passed her plate to her sister. “Here, spoon some onto my eggs, then it won’t go to waste.”

Sadie took another sip of her coffee, staring out the window as if she were watching her memories through it.

“He was my only suitor. We courted for two years.”

“What was he like?” Mary asked.

“Tall, with dark hair, just like Samuel. But careless. My daed didn’t like him very much.”

Mary took a bite of her eggs, trying to imagine Aunt Sadie’s father. He had been Mary and Ida Mae’s great-grandfather, and their mother had always described him as kind and loving.

Ida Mae finished her breakfast and leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. “What happened?”

Sadie sighed. “Abe—that was his name—liked to play practical jokes. One day he came to pick me up in his spring wagon, and he had whitewashed his horse.” Sadie smiled, shaking her head. “That scamp. We had a good laugh over his white horse, until Daed saw it.”

Mary picked up her coffee cup. “Then what happened?”

“Daed said the waste of the paint and mistreating the poor horse was the last straw.” Sadie’s eyes sparkled as tears welled up and she lifted the hem of her apron to wipe her cheek. “He told Abe not to bother coming around again. I would see him at Sabbath meeting, of course, but he never spoke to me again. He found a girl from the Clinton district a year later and married her.”

“So he just forgot about you?”

Sadie smiled at Ida Mae. “Ach, ne. You see, when Daed left the farm to my younger brother, your uncle Sol, I didn’t want to live there anymore. It was one thing to be an unwed daughter in my parents’ home, but with Sol and his wife having one baby after another, I was more in the way than I was a help. Elsie didn’t want an old maiden aunt telling her how to raise her children.”

“You couldn’t have been that old,” Ida Mae said.

“That was thirty-five years ago. I was fifty and had nowhere to go.”

“So what did you do?”

“Somehow Abe knew of my predicament. He gave me these ten acres and the church built this house and barn.” Sadie sighed. “Even after all those years, with his family grown and grandchildren coming along, Abe thought of me.”

They sat in silence, and Mary thought about Sadie’s story. How much was Samuel like his grandfather?

Sadie stood and started gathering the plates from the table. “The Lapps will be here soon. I have some scraps of material we can use to make a quilt top. We may as well start the sewing lessons sooner than later.”

Before the mantel clock in the front room struck eight, Samuel’s buggy drove into the yard.

“Go out and tell him to put his horse in the pasture with Chester,” Sadie said, pushing Mary toward the door. “And tell him we’ll have dinner ready at noon, and he and the girls should stay.”

Mary got to the buggy just at Samuel was tying the horse to the hitching post. “Aunt Sadie says to put your mare in the pasture.”