Read Heritage of Lancaster County 03 The Reckoning for Free Online Page A
Authors: Unknown
instead of farming. Said it just this mornin' . .. wants to be a blacksmith like his old Daed."
"Ach, but you ain't old," she said cautiousl3; lest he think she was debating him. "Reall?; you ain't."
He turned to her and gave her a broad smile. "S'right kind of ya, Mary."
"Well, it's not just my opinion." Her voice felt fragile, as if it might give out on her.
"Your opinion matters more than ya know."
She was thankful to be sitting down just nou; for she felt the strength drain clean out of her legs--downright weak- kneed as always whenever she was around this man of God. "The smithy's a good callin' for a boy, I'd say," she managed.
"Jah, I tend to agree."
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She was aware of the wind against her bonnet as they neared the town of Bird-in-Hand. It was ever so much like riding through a dream, floating through a familiar yet somewhat hazy world. She found herself holding her breath, lest the ride come to an end and she awaken.
John halted the horse, bringing the carriage to a smooth stop, then excused himself to run into the bank. Watching a man of his years scamper across a parking lot like a colt was a sight to see, to be sure. She thought she might laugh out loud. Oh, joy! Was John feeling the first stirrings of love for her? Did he feel half as giddy as she?
The horse puffed out plumes of warm air from bulging nostrils as Mary waited. Then lickety-split John was back, pushing a bank receipt into his coat pocket. Mary was amused by his rushing to and fro. Whatever the reason, she dared not surmise.., or question. She must be careful lest she jump to conclusions.
"Do ya care for some ice cream?" he asked, almost shyly. "Sounds gut." She couldn't imagine anything colder on such a chilly day, though, and had to keep her face muscles in check so as not to let a chuckle loose.
Up the road a bit, they pulled into a roadside stand. John drove the carriage right up to the order-out window. "Would ya like a chocolate sundae?" He smiled as he asked.
"Jah, with plenty whipped cream and nuts, please." She was awful surprised that he seemed to know her taste in desserts.
He turned to the window and ordered the chocolate sundae for her and a banana split for himself.
The return trip to Hickory Hollow was pleasant enough, but terribly cold by now--what with the ice cream settling in her stomach, frosty and sweet, and a sizable case of nerves--sitting next to the bishop thisaway. Her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.
"Feelin' a bit chilly, are ya?" Before she could answer, he
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reached back and pulled up another heavy lap robe from the backseat, letting go of the reins in order to place it gently over her legs.
"D-denk-ki," she stuttered, ashamed of herself for not being able to conceal it, yet glad for another layer of warmth.
"I best be gettin' you home."
It was the last thing on earth she wanted to hear. She'd much rather freeze to death than have the ride come to an abrupt end. Still, in spite of her disappointment, she nodded submissively. She thought for sure he'd let her out somewhere away from the house, the way they'd arranged the meeting in the first place. But when nothing was said, even when they passed the familiar shoulder and the grove of trees, her pulse quickened. It looked as though he was really going to drive all the way into the barnyard before letting her out.
Mary folded her mittened hands as the horse made the turn into her father's long lane. Her heart felt ever so soft toward the widower. And when he turned to bid her goodbye, his eyes were filled with tenderness toward her as well.
I'll be seem' ya, Mary, at the meeting tomorrow," he said, tipping his black felt hat like a real gentleman.
"Jah" was what came out. Oh, but she wanted to say so awful much more to the kind and gentle widower. Things such as were not becoming to a quiet, submissive young Amishwoman on the verge of being passed over for marriage. She was smarter than to say anything except, "Denki for the ride.., and the
"Ach, but you ain't old," she said cautiousl3; lest he think she was debating him. "Reall?; you ain't."
He turned to her and gave her a broad smile. "S'right kind of ya, Mary."
"Well, it's not just my opinion." Her voice felt fragile, as if it might give out on her.
"Your opinion matters more than ya know."
She was thankful to be sitting down just nou; for she felt the strength drain clean out of her legs--downright weak- kneed as always whenever she was around this man of God. "The smithy's a good callin' for a boy, I'd say," she managed.
"Jah, I tend to agree."
47
She was aware of the wind against her bonnet as they neared the town of Bird-in-Hand. It was ever so much like riding through a dream, floating through a familiar yet somewhat hazy world. She found herself holding her breath, lest the ride come to an end and she awaken.
John halted the horse, bringing the carriage to a smooth stop, then excused himself to run into the bank. Watching a man of his years scamper across a parking lot like a colt was a sight to see, to be sure. She thought she might laugh out loud. Oh, joy! Was John feeling the first stirrings of love for her? Did he feel half as giddy as she?
The horse puffed out plumes of warm air from bulging nostrils as Mary waited. Then lickety-split John was back, pushing a bank receipt into his coat pocket. Mary was amused by his rushing to and fro. Whatever the reason, she dared not surmise.., or question. She must be careful lest she jump to conclusions.
"Do ya care for some ice cream?" he asked, almost shyly. "Sounds gut." She couldn't imagine anything colder on such a chilly day, though, and had to keep her face muscles in check so as not to let a chuckle loose.
Up the road a bit, they pulled into a roadside stand. John drove the carriage right up to the order-out window. "Would ya like a chocolate sundae?" He smiled as he asked.
"Jah, with plenty whipped cream and nuts, please." She was awful surprised that he seemed to know her taste in desserts.
He turned to the window and ordered the chocolate sundae for her and a banana split for himself.
The return trip to Hickory Hollow was pleasant enough, but terribly cold by now--what with the ice cream settling in her stomach, frosty and sweet, and a sizable case of nerves--sitting next to the bishop thisaway. Her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.
"Feelin' a bit chilly, are ya?" Before she could answer, he
48
reached back and pulled up another heavy lap robe from the backseat, letting go of the reins in order to place it gently over her legs.
"D-denk-ki," she stuttered, ashamed of herself for not being able to conceal it, yet glad for another layer of warmth.
"I best be gettin' you home."
It was the last thing on earth she wanted to hear. She'd much rather freeze to death than have the ride come to an abrupt end. Still, in spite of her disappointment, she nodded submissively. She thought for sure he'd let her out somewhere away from the house, the way they'd arranged the meeting in the first place. But when nothing was said, even when they passed the familiar shoulder and the grove of trees, her pulse quickened. It looked as though he was really going to drive all the way into the barnyard before letting her out.
Mary folded her mittened hands as the horse made the turn into her father's long lane. Her heart felt ever so soft toward the widower. And when he turned to bid her goodbye, his eyes were filled with tenderness toward her as well.
I'll be seem' ya, Mary, at the meeting tomorrow," he said, tipping his black felt hat like a real gentleman.
"Jah" was what came out. Oh, but she wanted to say so awful much more to the kind and gentle widower. Things such as were not becoming to a quiet, submissive young Amishwoman on the verge of being passed over for marriage. She was smarter than to say anything except, "Denki for the ride.., and the