Emma Miller - The Amish Bride

Ellen nodded and smiled. She knew what her father was up to. They were so close that she was familiar with all his tricks. He was deliberately being sentimental about her mother to keep Ellen from talking about what she’d sought him out for. He knew that she was unhappy with the ambush that had happened at supper, and he wanted to avoid the consequences. But she suspected that he’d be disappointed if she let him get away with it, so she went straight to the heart of the pudding.

“You shouldn’t have asked the Shetlers here for supper to talk about this courting business without talking to me first,” she admonished gently. “I can’t believe you didn’t wait to see whether I was in favor of this or not.”

“ Ach...ach , I was afraid you’d be vexed with me. I told your mother you would.” He gestured with his hand. “But it is such a good solution to Simeon’s problem and ours. And how could I refuse him? He came to me at midday, told me what was on his mind and said that he’d already approached you with the idea and you were in favor. Then he invited himself and his sons to supper.” He shrugged as if to say, what could I do? “He’s a good neighbor and an old friend.”

“Friends or not, I’m your daughter, and who I will or won’t marry is a serious matter. If you knew I wouldn’t approve, you shouldn’t have done it,” she said, unwilling to surrender so easily to being manipulated.

She had the greatest respect for her father’s judgment, but he’d always fostered independence in her. Even at a young age, he’d treated her more as another adult in the home than as a child. Maybe it was because her mother had always been an uncomplicated and basic person, content to allow her husband and the elders of the church to make decisions for her, while his was a keener mind that sought in-depth conversation. Or perhaps it was because she’d been the only child and he doted on her.

In any case, the Bible said “Honor thy father and mother,” and she hoped she hadn’t taken advantage of his leniency. She’d taken care not to be forward in front of others, especially with the more conservative of the community. But here, in their own home, with none but him to hear, how could she do less than protest his high-handedness?

“What was I to say to Simeon?” he went on. ‘“ Nay , old friend, you can’t come to share bread with us until I see if my daughter wants to marry either one of your boys?’” He found a withered lima bean and cast it to the brown-and-white rat terrier sitting at his feet. Gilly caught the bean in the air and chomped it joyfully.

“It was a shock to see Micah and Neziah all dressed in their best, here at the table.” Ellen glanced at her mother, but she snored on, her hands loose in her lap, her bowl of unshelled beans hardly started. “She was good tonight, don’t you think?” she said, waffling by talking of something easier. “Her morning started bad, so I worried...”

Her father’s face was lost in shadow now, but Ellen knew he was smiling. He had such fondness for her mother, his love seemingly growing stronger with his wife’s slow mental decline. “She perked up when I told her that the children were coming. Buzzed around the kitchen like she was forty. Her biscuits were light enough to float, don’t you think? And she was sharp as a needle at supper.” Her father continued to hull limas, his fingers moving unconsciously without pause. Fat beans dropped by ones, twos and threes into the wide basket in his lap.

“Jah,” Ellen agreed. “No lapses in memory.” And her mother’s biscuits had been good tonight. She’d not forgotten the rising or the salt as she did sometimes. And she hadn’t let them stay in the oven until the bottoms began to burn. Once, not long ago, Ellen had come in from the garden to find the kitchen full of smoke and her mother standing motionless in the center of the room, staring at the stove and coughing. Ellen had had to get the biscuits out of the oven and shoo her mother outside where she could breathe. It was those lapses in judgment that made Ellen apprehensive about her mother’s health.

“So, Dochter , did you enjoy yourself on your outing with young Micah?”

“I did have a good time,” she admitted. “But you know I would have put the Shetlers off if I’d had the choice. This isn’t something that I can decide in a few hours.”

“But you are open to being courted by Micah or his brother?” When she didn’t answer right away, her father pressed on. “You have to marry, Ellen. You know that, don’t you? What will you do when your mother and I go to our reward? We’re not young, either of us. You’re a healthy young woman. You need a family of your own. And it would fill our hearts with joy if you could give us a grandchild before we die.”

She swallowed. Her throat felt tight, as if an invisible hand was squeezing it. It was all perfectly logical, of course, but what about her heart? Her parents had married for love, and she had hoped for the same.

“I’m not asking you to marry either of Simeon’s boys,” he father went on. “I’m only asking that you give them a chance.”

Her gaze met his, but she still didn’t speak.

“Just...just a month. That’s all I ask of you. Give them a month.” He smiled the smile he knew she could never resist. “Is that too much for an old man to ask of his daughter?”

He said it so sweetly that she sighed and looked at the lima bean in her hand. “No, I suppose it’s not too much to ask, so I will walk out with them,” she said softly. “But I’ll tell you now—” she pointed with the empty hull at him “—I’ll only truly consider Micah, not Neziah.”

“Don’t be foolish. You cared for Neziah once. You came close to marrying him.”

She tightened her mouth. “That was a long time ago,” she said. “Marrying Neziah would have been a mistake. We were— are —too different. He isn’t the husband for me, and I’m certainly not the wife for him.” Memories she hadn’t stirred up in years came back to her, and she felt her heart trip. Things had been so complicated with Neziah, and she had been so young. “I’d feel trapped in a marriage with him.”

“Then you’re wise to refuse him.” He leaned closer to her. “But you are open to being courted by Micah?”

She nodded. “ Jah. If you think I should do that, I will.”

“And you don’t think it’s being unfair to Neziah to allow him to believe you’re considering his suit?”

“Honestly, Dat , I think he went along with Simeon’s idea just to please his father. I bet he’s trying to figure out at this very moment how to get out of this.”

“Then we will put this all in God’s hands,” her father said. “He’s never failed to be there when we need Him. It pleases me that you are willing to walk out with the Shetler boys, and I will place my hopes and prayers on the best solution for all of us.”

She nodded, her heart suddenly lighter. “I’ll put my trust in Him,” she agreed. And for the first time in years, she allowed herself to think of a different life than she had thought hers would be...one that included a husband, a baby and new possibilities.

* * *

“I’m hungry,” Joel said in Deitsch as Neziah lifted him out of the bathtub and wrapped him in an oversize white towel.

“ Jah , me, too,” Asa agreed in Deitsch. “I want milk and cookies. Can we have milk and cookies, Dat ?”

“English,” Neziah reminded them. “Bath time is English. Remember? Soon Joel will go to school, and the other children will speak English. You wouldn’t want them to call him a woodenhead, would you?” Asa wriggled out of his grasp and retreated to the far end of the claw-footed porcelain tub. “Come back here, you pollywog.” He captured the escapee and stood him beside his brother. It always surprised him how close they were in size, even though Asa was nearly two years younger. Neziah wrapped his younger son in a clean blue towel and sat him on the closed toilet seat.