An Amish Husband for Tillie Page 2

  Up until that moment it had been easy to pretend that she belonged in the English world. Sure, she’d had to buy all her clothes at Goodwill, and sometimes she didn’t match things up just right, but she was trying her best to fit in. Then came all the talk of Christmas, and one thing became so very clear: she was never going to fit in.

  And that’s why she had to come home.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” Libby said, flashing her a shy smile. Shy was not a word Tillie normally associated with Libby, which meant something was up.

  “I’m glad I’m back too.”

  Tillie waited for Libby to say more.

  “Hannah and Leah will be so happy to see you.”

  “Jah,” Tillie said. Still she waited.

  “And Gracie. You know she has five kids now? Can you imagine? And one of her own coming soon.”

  The last thing she wanted to hear about were her sisters’ and her cousin’s perfect lives.

  “What’s up, Libby?”

  It was as if a dam broke. Libby turned toward her and grabbed Tillie’s hand. “Does it hurt?” she asked with a pointed nod at Tillie’s burgeoning belly. “Being pregnant?”

  Tillie laid a protective hand over the mound. “Why do you ask?”

  Libby sighed, a frustrated sound. “No one will tell me. You know how the women are. They don’t like to talk about things. I just want to know. That’s all.”

  “Because of a boy?”

  “Maybe.” Another sigh, this one more wistful. “I’m growing up and everyone still treats me like a child. I just want to know things.”

  Tillie waited.

  “Silas King.” The name was almost like a prayer on her lips.

  Tillie remembered Silas. “He’s a little older, right?”

  Libby sniffed. “Not that much older. Just five years. Anyway, he’s been acting like he’s going to ask me to court him, and, well . . .” She fiddled with one of her kapp strings, then shook her head. “You just got home. I shouldn’t be bothering you with this.” She started to stand, but Tillie reached out and held her in place.

  “Don’t run away,” she said. “If you have a question, ask it.” She would much rather people ask than stare at her and make her wonder what was going on inside their heads. No one paid her much mind in the English world, but now that she was back in Pontotoc, she knew that was going to change. Stares and questions—they were both coming.

  “It’s just marriage and relationships . . . I’d ask Mamm, but it’s been so long since she and Dat got married I doubt she even remembers.”

  Tillie bit back a laugh. “You’d be surprised,” she said. “But I wouldn’t want to ask my mother about such things either.”

  “How do you know when you’re ready? To . . . you know . . .”

  “I do hope you’re talking about getting married.”

  Libby sniffed delicately. “Of course.” She really was still so young. A tender soul trapped in the body of a young woman.

  “You’ll know,” Tillie said.

  “Like you and Melvin.”

  Well, she had thought she knew. Now everything had changed. She had rushed in, been impulsive, gotten herself in a bit of trouble, and had come running back home. Part of her knew she should be with Melvin, talking to him about marriage and the early family they had started. But she had to be here, in Pontotoc, where she truly belonged. They might not give her a second glance when she was among the English, and she was certain to endure more than her fair share of gossip and disapproving looks, but she needed to be here, with her family. For as long as they would have her.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said. She wanted it to be true, but Melvin hadn’t come after her. Not yet, anyway. Was that what she wanted? For him to swoop in and take her away?

  No, she wanted him to come back too, and live with their families. Well, her family, since all of his had moved away. Leah had told her in one of her letters. But they could live here, she and Melvin and the baby. Maybe in the cabin up the drive. Or even in a house they had yet to build. But they had already started their family without talking all these things through. What was a girl to do with that?

  “Just promise me one thing, Libby,” Tillie said. “Don’t be in a rush.”

  Rushing in had gotten her in the exact spot she was in now. And the place wasn’t always comfortable. Not by far.

  Chapter Two

  Levi Yoder pulled his gloves from his hands and made his way into the feed store. He hated coming into town. He hated stopping at the feed store. Too many men standing around talking about too many things that hardly seemed to matter. The weather, Thomas Byler’s new carriage mare, and these days . . . Christmas.

  Most of all, he hated Christmas.

  And he hated himself for hating it.

  “What can I get you, Levi?” the man behind the counter asked. Tyrone Getty had run the co-op for as long as Levi could remember. Like with a lot of folks of color, it was impossible to tell exactly how old Tyrone was. His wiry steel-gray hair bore testament to his years, but his dark face was devoid of wrinkles, smooth and unlined like that of a much younger man. He had been here when Levi was a child and it seemed that he would remain long after Levi had passed.

  “Tyrone,” Levi grunted, and slid a small piece of paper across the counter toward the man. With any luck the order would get him through, clear to the new year. But it seemed these days luck wasn’t on his side.

  “Gimme a minute,” Tyrone said, never taking his brown eyes from the paper. The man didn’t wear glasses—another thing that made his age such a mystery. “Help yourself to a cup of coffee.” He nodded toward the old-fashioned sideboard that had been converted into a coffee station for the customers.

  Levi started toward the station, then faltered. On a day like today, when the wind had turned off a bit chilly, the coffee was a welcome offering. It was the company that made him leery. Four men stood between the sideboard and the potbellied stove. He knew them all. George Williams owned the land next to the bishop’s. Max Myron ran the Randolph Animal Shelter. They were the two English in the group. Jason Menno and Chris Lambert were both Amish farmers, members of the same church district as Levi, and they already wore sympathetic looks on their faces.

  How much longer before people stopped looking at him like he was something to be pitied? How long before he stopped feeling like a walking sack of grief? Who knew?

  Just another reason why he hated to come to town.

  But they had spotted him. Jason moved from in front of the coffeepot and the men stood and waited for him to come near.

  What choice did he have? Levi recovered his steps and started toward the station. On the way he passed an endcap of Christmas lights and another with some sort of inflatable creatures to place on the front lawn. A reindeer, a Santa, and a snowman. Like there was any snow in Northeast Mississippi. Not this early in the year, and hardly ever enough to build a snowman. Then he passed a dancing Santa that moved to its own music every time someone walked by it. A dancing Santa. Why was that necessary in a feed store? It wasn’t. Just like all the strands of shiny garland that looped and swooped around the ceiling. Or the silver and gold snowflakes that hung from fishing line and paper clips. None of it needed to be there, and it only served to remind him that they were gone.

  Mary. And the baby he never got to hold.

  Gone in an instant.

  “Levi.”

  One of the men spoke. He wasn’t paying attention as to who it was. He just wanted to get his cup of coffee and back away to allow them to finish their conversation on Thomas Byler’s carriage mare or the weather, or Strawberry Dan’s last boring sermon. Whatever it was that they had been talking about before he arrived and everyone’s day was shattered with sadness.

  Levi nodded in their general direction, poured himself a Styrofoam cup full of coffee, and wandered away without making eye contact with any of them. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want them to ask him how he was doing. He answered those questions
every day, every time they had church or he had to run into town to get supplies. Each day when at least one of the good members of their community came to visit, bringing food and company he did not want. The lies were weighing heavy on him. People asked, but they didn’t want to know the truth. They didn’t want to know that he was having a hard time accepting what all would say was God’s will.

  God’s will. He almost snorted coffee up his nose at the thought. Thankfully it slid down his throat instead and saved him from drawing all their attention once again.

  He had been taught that the Lord controls all things. That He has a plan and His will would prevail. The idea of God’s will seemed perfectly logical when talking about other people’s problems. He had even been able to accept that it was the reason for his brother Daniel’s death. But not this. Not his Mary and his baby.

  And lying to everyone when they asked him how he fared and telling them that he was good and God’s will would shine through made him choke. How could the death of an innocent who had yet to draw a first breath be a part of God’s will? What kind of God would will that? None that he wanted to follow. Which stood to reason that God’s will wasn’t a part of Mary’s death. Something else. Maybe punishment for a crime of his youth. He didn’t know. He only knew that it couldn’t be God. If it was . . . heaven help them all.

  He took another sip of his coffee and unbuttoned his coat. It was warm in the store. Or maybe it was the eyes that watched him that had him warm beyond normal. He knew they meant well. And normally he would have been able to handle it. But not while surrounded by blow-up snowmen and dancing Santas.

  Without looking at the other men, he headed back to the counter. A small bell sat next to the cash register and was used to summon a clerk, mostly Tyrone, if he wasn’t right there already.

  Levi tapped the bell with more vigor than he had intended. Tyrone appeared in an instant.

  “Something wrong?” the man asked without hesitation.

  Had he rang the bell that urgently? No matter. “No. Jah. My order,” he finally managed. “Double it.” Then for sure he wouldn’t have to come back into town before the Christmas celebrating was over and done.

  * * *

  Levi managed to avoid the four men, as well as the two others who came into the feed store while he waited for his increased order.

  Just after he had asked for the extra supplies, he had second thoughts. It would eat up a lot of his savings, and with too much feed on hand he would run the risk of rats getting into it. Or moisture and mold. But it was done and he wasn’t changing his mind now. He just stayed to the side and out of the way, hoping that no one noticed him there.

  He listened in while the men talked but didn’t join their conversation. He had nothing to say about a new mare, an old bull, or the fact that Melvin Yoder’s girlfriend had returned without him.

  He remembered when they had left. Sort of. Levi was a little older than Melvin and Tillie, the girlfriend, but he knew her brother, David. They were in school together, and in the same youth group. He had spent many a summer afternoon at the pond behind the Gingeriches’ house fishing and lolling about in the sun. But that had been before a sweet girl named Mary Byler had captured Levi’s attention and stolen his heart away.

  He swung up into his wagon and snapped the reins to start his horse. He was glad he had brought the wagon into town today instead of his buggy. He would never have been able to get all this home without the extra room.

  And now another trip to the feed store was one less thing he had to worry about. The next hurdle was church. Tomorrow was Saturday. He had one day to prepare for the kind looks and sympathetic twists of the ladies’ mouths as they gazed at him. Having the entire congregation to deal with was so much worse than the pitying looks of the one or two daily visitors. It was maddening.

  It had been two months since Mary had died. A brain aneurysm, they had called it. He supposed that was a fancy way of saying that her brain had started bleeding for no reason. Well, none that they could say for sure. It could have been the strain of the pregnancy. Or something she was predetermined to suffer from. He wasn’t so sure about that. Wasn’t that a scientific way of saying God’s will? Even then, none of it mattered. Understanding what had happened to Mary wouldn’t bring her back. So he’d only halfway paid attention when they were telling him. Or maybe it was the sheer weight of his grief that had wiped it from his memory. What did it matter, now that his Mary was gone?

  She had been six months pregnant, and he couldn’t help remembering that if she were alive today, she would be as round as an apple and glowing like the other women he had seen this far along. He was certain she would be crocheting this or that for the baby, planning, but not too much. It wouldn’t do to appear arrogant, like they were taking God’s blessing for granted. And they had wondered if maybe . . . just maybe . . . the baby might come a little early and be born on Christmas Day, sharing a birthday with Jesus. Now, he had heard some of the men in town debating on whether or not Christmas Day was actually when Jesus was born, but it didn’t matter. It was the day when everyone celebrated, and that was enough for Levi.

  And he missed her. He missed Mary every day. He had hoped some of the pain would have eased by now. Or maybe he was expecting too much from himself. Right now he just wanted to go home, away from all the talk of Jesus and Christmas, away from all the pretty red poinsettias and English chatter of Santa Claus and hide away until it was all over.

  He turned down the dirt lane that led to his house. The road needed to be graded. It was “rough as a cob,” his grandmother would have said. He smiled at the memory. Just one more person he had to miss this holiday. He should go back into town in a day or so and find someone to help him with the road. But he wouldn’t. It could wait.

  When he saw the buggy parked in front of his house he almost pulled back on the reins and turned his wagon around.

  Miriam Elizabeth Yoder, most always known as Mims, stood next to the buggy, hands planted on her hips. His sister. His nosy, busy, bossy sister who meant well, but liked to bully him, and anyone else who would allow it.

  “Levi Yoder.” Her look was stern, her mouth set in a thin line.

  He cringed as he pulled the horse to a stop. “Mims.” He gave her a nod and hopped down from his wagon.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “Town.” He didn’t mean to be curt, but like half of his family, she treated him as if he were a fragile piece of china that would shatter if a person looked at it too hard. The other half acted like nothing had happened. He didn’t know which was worse. He was struggling to find his way, and as much as he loved his family, they were not helping in that process.

  “I came over.”

  “I can see that.” He pulled the fifty-pound bag of dog food from the stack of supplies in his wagon and carried it toward the barn. Puddles waddled out from inside, her tail wagging her entire body despite the added weight around her middle.

  “Le—” Mims started, then broke off. She shook her head. “I was concerned about you.”

  “I’m fine.” He shifted the bag of food to his shoulder and reached down to pet the freckled dog on the head. Puddles, an Australian cattle dog, had been Mary’s dog, and the pooch grieved for her mistress almost as much as Levi did. “Come on, girl,” he said, then led the way into the barn.

  He half expected Mims to follow him, but she didn’t. Yet she was still waiting there by her buggy when he came back out.

  “We should talk about this, you know.” Her words were like a puzzle with a few missing pieces, but he understood her meaning.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” He picked up the sack of feed corn. It wasn’t his best solution, but he hoped it would keep weight on the few heads of cattle he had decided to keep during the winter. He supposed if they preferred to roam for grass, he could feed it to the chickens and the ducks. And he wasn’t coming up with things to think about, so he didn’t have to sit around and miss Mary.

 
“You can’t just lock yourself away.”

  He didn’t know why not. There were several members of their community who were committed to staying at home on all days except for church Sundays. Granted, they were eccentric at best, a little off in the head at worst, but he could deal with that label. In truth, he didn’t care one bit what people thought of him.

  Well, maybe a little, but since he had lost Mary, he cared less and less.

  He made his way into the barn and out again before answering. “I’m not locked away. I just went into town.”

  She looked into the back of his wagon. “This looks like it was bought by one of those English people who thinks the end of the world is coming.”

  “It is. One day.” He picked up the bag of alfalfa pellets and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

  “Levi. It’s a wedding. He’s our cousin. Everyone will be devastated if you don’t come.”

  “I doubt that.” In fact, he was pretty certain that his cousin, who was widowed and getting married for the second time, wouldn’t notice if Levi was there or not. Maybe if he was cousins with the bride it would be different, but men didn’t put as much importance on things like weddings. To men like him, the marriage was more important, and his marriage was gone. His not wanting to go to the wedding had nothing to do with the fact that his cousin was starting over while to Levi the concept of a new beginning was as foreign as the moon.

  “Then do it for Mamm.”

  The words stopped him. His mother. She was one of the ones who acted like everything was just as it had always been. He appreciated the fact that she was trying, in her own way, to help him move forward, but so far, her efforts had been in vain. He was stuck.

  Maybe when the holidays were over. How could he move forward if all he could think about were the things that were gone?

  “Mims.” The one word said it all. How she wasn’t playing fair, how she needed to think about his feelings too, and how family came first, but some things were delicate.

  His sister propped her hands on her hips in that sassy way of hers, but her eyes softened. “Lee.”