Rebecca Kertz - Noah's Sweetheart

“It will be done in a month,” Noah promised.

“If he says it will be done, it will be done,” Charlotte said when Rachel was skeptical. “The Lapp men are good carpenters.”

“Men of many talents,” Rachel said softly, thinking of Noah, recalling his skill with her rescue and the desk he’d made for the teacher.

“It is getting late,” Noah said. “Aunt Mae will be wondering why I kept you so long.”

“Ja,” Charlotte said. “There is cooking to be done before we come on Sunday.”

Rachel had almost forgotten. They would be spending time at the Lapp farm on Sunday. She would meet not only Noah’s mother, but also all of his other kin. She was both terrified and excited by the prospect. Were all of the Lapp brothers as handsome as Noah?

They left the cottage, and it seemed a much shorter walk back to the buggy, where the old mare Janey waited patiently for their return. Rachel climbed into the back of the buggy, conscious of Noah waiting for her and Charlotte to be seated.

“I will be right back,” Noah said and he disappeared around to the rear of the schoolhouse. He was back within minutes with two handfuls of wildflowers. Without a word, he gave Charlotte and Rachel each a small bouquet of colorful, delicate blooms.

Rachel remained silent as Charlotte thanked him profusely. The gesture was sweet and thoughtful, and she didn’t know what to make of it. No doubt he’d wanted to give flowers to Charlotte but felt it’d be awkward not to give any to Rachel.

Whatever his reasons, Noah had pleased her, and Rachel tried to shut down her feelings. It wouldn’t do to like Noah, who was the man in her cousin’s life. It wouldn’t do to get involved with any man. She had learned a hard lesson from Abraham Beiler, and she should never, ever—could never, ever—forget how awful she’d felt.

* * *

Rachel went with the Amos King women to the Lapp farm on Friday. She hadn’t expected to visit so soon, but Katie Lapp had seven sons and only a baby daughter. Katie needed help getting ready for the five families who would come to visit on Sunday.

They had delivered pies to Kitchen Kettle Village on Thursday morning. On Thursday afternoon they had baked two more cakes and four more pies. These treats were for the social.

Rachel had a pie on her lap as Aunt Mae drove the family buggy over to the Lapp farm. It didn’t take long to get there. As her aunt pulled the carriage into the Lapps’ barnyard, Rachel stared at the house. It was a big house, bigger than the Amos Kings’ and bigger than her home back in Ohio. White with a large front porch and many windows across the second and first floors, it was a plain but beautiful structure that displayed signs of a contented life.

Her aunt and cousins alighted, and as she climbed out, Rachel was conscious of chickens clucking and running about the yard. A low mooing from the barn could only have come from the family cow. Two young Amish boys of about six or seven ran about, chasing each other, while an older boy, who looked to be eleven or twelve, carried wood from the shed with his gaze on his two younger brothers. Noah’s brothers? Rachel wondered.

“John! Jacob!” Aunt Mae called. “Come say hello to your new schoolteacher.” She turned to Rachel. “John is mei kinskind. He is your cousin Sarah’s son. He is five.”

Rachel blinked. “Sarah? Sarah is here?”

Aunt Mae nodded. “She and Eli live on the other side of Bird-in-Hand. They have been away to Delaware. They were due back late yesterday.” She smiled as the boys approached slowly, eyeing Rachel with cautious curiosity.

Rachel hadn’t realized that Sarah had had children. Sarah was the eldest of the Amos Kings. She had married when Rachel and Charlotte were young children, so it was natural that she now had one or more daughters or sons. She studied John, Sarah’s son. He was a handsome boy with blond hair and brown eyes. Did he look like his vadder or Sarah? Rachel could barely remember what her cousin Sarah looked like.

“Rachel,” her aunt said, “these boys will be your students. John, Jacob, this is your new schoolteacher. John, Rachel is also your cousin. Jacob belongs to Abram Peachy. Abram is deacon.” And then to Rachel, she whispered, “and a widower.” The boys had started to turn away, ready to play again.

She called after them. “Boys! What do you say to your new schoolteacher?”

“Gut day to you, Rachel. We are pleased to meet you.” It was Jacob Peachy who spoke.

John stared at her. “What do I need school for? I like working on the farm.”

“You must learn English,” Rachel said, “so that you can do farm business in town.”

Jacob was nodding as if he understood. “Ja, John. You don’t want to be a bad farmer, do you?”

“I will be a gut farmer! I know a lot about plowing and planting...and harvesting!”

“I’m sure you do, John,” his grandmother said. “But Rachel is right, it is important for you to learn things to help you someday when you are big and can take over your father’s farm.”

“We will both come,” Jacob added.

Rachel gazed at his sweet face and thought how unfortunate it was that this poor boy had lost his mother. “I will see you in class in two months.”

The boys nodded before they ran off to finish their barnyard play.

Rachel became aware of several things at once as she entered the Lapp family home. First was that the house was filled with women she didn’t know. Then she saw Charlotte greet another woman warmly with a hug. She heard “Sarah” and she realized that this was the cousin she had met only once when she was barely old enough to remember.

Charlotte came back and grabbed Rachel’s hand, leading her toward her older sister. “Sarah, this is cousin Rachel.”

Sarah smiled. She looked so much like Aunt Mae that Rachel had to keep herself from staring. “You were young when we met.”

Rachel nodded. “Ja. You took me for a walk to see the barn animals.”

“That’s right.” Her eldest cousin looked surprised. “You were three.”

Rachel studied her cousin’s face carefully. “You have the look of your mudder.”

“We all do,” Sarah said, referring to her sisters. She turned to softly scold a little girl who was trying to put her fingers into a freshly baked chocolate-cream pie. It was one of Rachel’s pies brought from Aunt Mae’s, which hadn’t been put in a cool place yet. “Rose Ann!” she exclaimed. “You must not touch that pie.” Seeing the little girl’s face begin to crumple, Sarah bent to scoop up the child into her arms. “You can have a piece of pie when we get home.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and turned back to Rachel. “This is my youngest—Rose Ann. She is three and she likes chocolate.”

Little Rose Ann nodded vigorously. “Chocolate.”

Rachel felt her heart melting as she stared into her little cousin’s hazel eyes. Rose Ann’s hair had a hint of red highlights. She was a beautiful child with an inner glow.

“Ah, pie!” Noah was suddenly near the pie, ready to do what little Rose Ann was forbidden to.

“Nay!” Rachel exclaimed. She had sensed immediately when he’d come in. “That is for Sunday. You must not touch it now—”

“Just a taste?” he asked with a look of boyish innocence, but Rachel could see the mischievous twinkle that spoiled his whole act.

“Ows!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Rachel is right. You should not be here. We are here to do women’s work. You don’t look like a woman to me.”

Noah’s face beamed. “I’m glad you noticed.”

“No-ah!” Katie Lapp’s sharp tone was like a shout across the room.

“Mam?” he said as his mother approached. Katie was a strikingly plain woman who would stand out no matter if she wore Amish clothing or a potato sack. Her white prayer kapp sat properly on her head, revealing a glimpse of sandy-brown hair, the same color as her son’s.