Emma Miller - Courting Ruth

“How are the children?” Mam asked. “And Reuben? Is he well?”

“His bad knee is troubling him. He thinks we might have rain all weekend. I left him working on his sermon for Sunday services.”

“I’m sure it will be as good as his last service,” Ruth said, unable to help herself. Reuben was a good man, but he could be long-winded. Very long-winded. In fact, he could speak more and say less than anyone she knew.

Mam threw Ruth a warning look, and Ruth hid a smile.

Aunt Martha glanced around, a sure sign that she was about to launch into one of her reprimands. When she did that, Ruth could never be sure if she was looking to be sure no one was near, or hoping they were.

“I’ve been wanting to speak to you, Hannah.”

She took on a tone Ruth knew well. Mam was in for it. “You were my younger brother’s wife, and I have a duty to tell you when I see something not right.” Aunt Martha cleared her throat. “You, too, Ruth.”

Ruth steeled herself. So she was in for it as well.

Aunt Martha was a faithful member of the church and the community, but she liked to point out the errors of other people, especially Mam’s daughters. And too often, she saw a small sin bigger than it actually was.

Ruth wasn’t sure if she was in the mood tonight to be too charitable. “Aunt Martha…”

“Quiet, girl. Show some respect for your elders. It’s for your own good and your mother’s. I don’t say this lightly.” She sucked in her cheeks in disapproval.

Ruth gritted her teeth. She had to learn to be more patient. Like Mam. She wanted to be more patient; it was just that sometimes Aunt Martha made it difficult.

“And me being the wife of the minister, well, that makes it my duty, as well…” Martha took a deep breath and pointed a plump finger at Mam. “Hannah, your household is out of control.” She scowled at Ruth. “And you’re partly to blame.”

Ruth bit her bottom lip to keep from speaking up. It did no good with Aunt Martha, not when she was like this. It was better just to keep quiet, listen and hope the tirade passed quickly.

“And I’m not the only one to have noticed,” Martha went on. “Reuben was just saying to me the other day that it’s unseemly for you, Hannah, to be teaching school like an unmarried girl.”

“I’m sorry my teaching troubles you,” Mam said. “But our school needs a teacher, and I’m qualified.”

“The school board and the bishop approved Mam’s appointment,” Ruth put in. “And her salary helps to support our family.”

Martha frowned. “Your mother should have remarried by now. Then it wouldn’t be necessary for her to work.”

“It’s only been two years, Martha. Jonas…”

“Two years and seven months, sister. By custom, it’s time you put away your mourning and accepted another husband. If you had a God-fearing man in your house, your girls wouldn’t be acting inappropriately.”

“Inappropriately?” Mam’s brows arched. “How have they behaved inappropriately? Lately?” she clarified, spunk in her voice.

“Today. At Spence’s.”

“Eli Lapp was there,” Ruth explained quickly. “He bought ice cream for Susanna and Miriam.”

Aunt Martha eyes widened with great exaggeration. “So this is the first you’ve heard of it, Hannah? Miriam made a show of herself with that wild Belleville boy. She rode on his motorcycle in front of everyone. With her skirts up and her Kapp flying off her head. Her arms were around his waist. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Really?” Mam asked.

Ruth noticed Lydia and Aunt Martha’s younger sister, Aunt Alma, peering into the kitchen. Lydia’s cheeks took on a rosy hue. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to—”

“Ne,” Mam said. “There’s nothing to hide. Martha was telling me that my tomboy daughter was riding behind Roman’s nephew on a motorcycle at Spence’s today.”

“Scooter,” Ruth corrected gently, feeling she had to defend her sister, even though she didn’t really want to defend Eli. “It wasn’t really a motorcycle. It was a motor scooter—”

“Scooter? Cycle? It doesn’t matter what the loud English machine is called,” Aunt Martha declared. “It’s unseemly for a young girl like my niece to make such a spectacle of herself.” She glared at Ruth. “Or for her older sister to allow it.”

Mam chuckled. “It would be just like Miriam to take a ride on the machine, wouldn’t it?” She shook her head. “But it’s not so bad, is it? She’s not joined the church yet. It’s natural for her to dabble with the world…just as we did once.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as if she knew some secret about Aunt Martha that Ruth and the others didn’t.

“It’s wrong,” Aunt Martha argued, her cheeks turning red. “You’ve been far too lenient with your daughters.”

“Mam is a good mother and a good role model,” Ruth said.

“You hold your tongue, young woman,” Aunt Martha fussed. “This would never have happened if my brother was alive.”

“Ne. Probably not,” Mam said. “And I agree that a motor scooter is dangerous, especially without a helmet. I’ll speak with Miriam about it.”

“You don’t understand the danger of situations like these,” Aunt Martha went on. “Of what people will say. How could you? You weren’t born Plain.”

“What does Mam being born Mennonite have to do with—”

Mam silenced Ruth with a wave of her hand. Once Mam’s temper was set off, she could handle Aunt Martha, and Mam’s amusement had definitely faded.

“Martha, you should mind the sharpness of your tongue. I don’t think my being born Mennonite has anything to do with my daughter taking a ride on an old motorbike, and I don’t think your brother, my husband, would approve of such talk. None of us should be too quick to pass judgment on Eli Lapp. He’s rumspringa and a visitor among us. How can we condemn what his church and family allows?”

“I suppose you believe Ruth is right, too.” Martha planted her hands on her broad hips. “In allowing Miriam to do such a thing.”

“Ruth is a sensible girl,” Hannah pointed out. “She’d never let her sisters come to harm. I trust her judgment.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t this time.” Aunt Alma, a shorter and paler reflection of Aunt Martha, hustled up to stand beside her sister. “I had a letter just yesterday from our cousin in Belleville about this Lapp boy. It’s worse than we first thought.”

“Tell them, Alma. I think it’s for the best we all know what’s what,” Aunt Martha prodded.

Aunt Alma needed no further encouragement. “Rumor has it that Eli’s family sent him away because he got a girl in the family way and refused to marry her.”

Ruth’s chest tightened, and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t want hear any more, but she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t walk away.

“So!” Aunt Martha cried, seeming almost pleased with the awful accusation. “Is that the kind of young man we want to welcome into our community?”

Eli moved deeper into the shadows of the lilac bush that grew outside the Beachys’ kitchen window. He could see Ruth standing very still near the sink, a drying towel in her slender hands. There were other women in the room, but Eli paid no attention to them; he saw no one but Ruth. Light from a kerosene lantern illuminated the planes of her heart-shaped face and glinted off the strands of red-gold hair that escaped from her Kapp. She was a beautiful girl. No, a beautiful woman.

He wished he’d gotten here sooner, wished he’d thought sooner of bringing the hand drill that Roman had promised to loan Norman. If he’d walked faster across the fields, maybe he would have had been in the yard in time to take Ruth’s horse when she and her family had arrived. Then he would have had the opportunity to speak a few words with her.