Carrie Lighte

Minding The Amish Baby


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daadi haus herself!”

      Tessa squinted suspiciously at her sister. Ever since Katie married Mason, she seemed eager to match Tessa up, too. Katie claimed it was because she valued finding a man she loved so much she wanted Tessa to experience something similar, but Tessa suspected Katie may have felt guilty about leaving her behind. There was no need; although initially Tessa was sorry to see her sister go, she quickly adjusted to living completely by herself and now she actually preferred it that way. Especially since Katie and Tessa still visited each other regularly.

      “That may be true, but I’ve already been courted by the only eligible bachelors I can think of in Willow Creek,” Tessa complained. Everyone except Turner, that is, she mused, recalling how her skin had tingled when his hand accidentally touched her face the previous evening. She immediately banished the peculiar thought.

      “In Willow Creek, jah,” Katie said. “But Mason’s sister-in-law Lovina has a brother who just moved nearby to Elmsville from Indiana, and he has expressed interest in remarrying.”

      “A widower? How old is he? Forty? Forty-five? Sixty?”

      “Schnickelfritz!” Katie flicked a dish towel at her sister. “For your information, he’s thirty-three.”

      “Is that how many kinner he has, too?”

      “Of course not. David only has four kinner.”

       “Only?”

      “Four isn’t a lot. I hope to be blessed with at least that many.” Katie brought the last of the dishes to the sink. “Kinner are a gift from the Lord, Tessa.”

      “I know that,” Tessa replied. “But I can’t imagine myself as a mamm to one kind yet, let alone four at once.” As adorable as Mercy was, and as fond as she was becoming of the baby, Tessa had grown antsy after only two days of caring for her. She couldn’t wait to get back to the shop where she’d be among people who could talk back to her when she spoke to them. “What do you think I have in common with this David, anyway?”

      “I’m not sure,” Katie admitted. “But you need a suitor and he wants a wife, so you ought to at least meet him. If you don’t strike it off, that’s fine, but you need to keep an open mind. You never know who the Lord might provide for you.”

      “How do you propose I meet him? It’s not as if a thirty-three-year-old widower visiting from out of town is going to show up at one of our district’s singings.”

      “That’s why you’re going to host a potluck supper here the next time he visits Willow Creek. Mason and I will kumme, and we’ll invite Mason’s sister, Faith, and her husband, Hunter. We can also ask Anna and Fletcher Chupp to kumme.”

      Tessa groaned. “But then it will be obvious you’re trying to match David and me, which will be uncomfortable, especially if we have nothing in common.”

      “How about if Anna and Fletcher each invite a single friend, too?”

      “I don’t know...”

      “Have you got any better ideas?”

       “Neh.”

      “Then a Saturday evening potluck it is. I’ll find out when David’s going to be in town, and then we’ll extend the invitations,” Katie said, smiling.

      Tessa wished she was as optimistic as her sister was, but she felt more dread than hope about meeting David. Still, it gave her the excuse to host a party and she supposed that if there was even the tiniest possibility Katie’s plan would help prevent Tessa from returning home, it was worth a try. Somehow, though, when she weighed the option of becoming an instant mother to four children against the option of going home, going home didn’t seem so bad after all.

      Friday afternoon was especially challenging for Turner. For one thing, the shipment of LED components he’d ordered didn’t arrive, which meant Patrick couldn’t finish installing the new lighting system for Jacob Stolzfus’s buggy. For another, Mark encountered a problem as he was working on the brakes of Jonas Plank’s buggy. Unlike most of the buggies in Willow Creek, his used disc instead of drum brakes. Jonas said he kept going through brake pads too quickly, so Mark removed the calipers and when he saw how damaged the pads were, he examined the rotors, which were severely scored. The buggy would need new ones.

      Because disc brakes were rarely used among the Amish, Turner had to call several Englisch salvage yards to find what he needed. Although it was permissible for the Amish in Willow Creek to use phones for business purposes, Turner didn’t have one installed in the buggy shop, so he had to traipse to the phone shanty. It was quicker to walk than to hitch and unhitch his horse, but even so, the trip disrupted his regular work. He finally secured the parts from a place in Highland Springs, but the yard owner was going out of town and told Turner he couldn’t pick them up until late the following Thursday afternoon. Jonas Plank pulled a face when Turner explained the situation to him, and it took all of Turner’s self-control not to remind him he’d urged the young man to purchase a buggy with drum brakes from the start.

      Then on Friday evening, despite Turner’s best attempts to pacify her, Mercy cried so long and hard she eventually wore herself out. Between managing the challenges of his shop, taking care of the baby after work and struggling with his concerns about Jacqueline, Turner was bushed. After putting Mercy to bed, he stayed up just long enough to devour a ham sandwich before going to sleep himself.

      Not long after, the blaring of a car horn jarred him from slumber. Jacqueline’s back! he thought and bounded from bed to don his daytime clothes. His heart thumped as he shoved his feet into his boots, flung open the door and bolted outside onto the porch without a coat.

      When the horn sounded again, he realized it was coming from the other end of the lane, near the daadi haus. A man’s voice traveled distinctly across the winter air. “I’m not going to stop honking until you come out, Tessa!”

      So it wasn’t Jacqueline after all. Turner couldn’t quite catch Tessa’s reply to the man’s demands, but her tone sounded alarmed so he hurried through the night in the direction of the ruckus. As he neared the daadi haus, he could hear Tessa scolding the driver. “I said hush! You’re going to wake my landlord, who’s a very grouchy person on a gut day, so I can’t imagine how agitated he’ll be if his rest is disturbed at nearly midnight by an Englischer. Please leave.”

      “It’s not my fault I’m an Englischer,” the man argued. “I’ll become Amish if it means you’ll go out with me. Just once. Please? I’ll be a complete gentleman. We’ll go out to eat, that’s all. If you don’t enjoy your time with me, I won’t ask for another thing again. I promise.”

      “Neh, Jeremy. You need to leave. Now.”

      “Not unless you agree to go out with me.”

      “The only place I’m going is back inside, and I want you to leave.”

      The moon cast enough light for Turner to watch as Tessa started back up her walkway and onto the porch. Unsure whether he ought to interfere, he hesitated, but when the young man sounded his car horn again, Turner stepped out of the shadows. Suddenly all the frustration he felt about his sister living among the Englisch boiled up inside him and he struggled to suppress the urge to direct it toward the driver. The Amish were pacifists and Turner’s faith required him to forgive both figurative and literal trespassers.

      “Tessa asked you three times to leave. Do I have to ask you a fourth time?” he stated in a deep, gruff voice.

      Jeremy’s head swiveled in Turner’s direction. “Of course not. I’m sorry for causing a commotion. I’ll leave right away, sir,” he said, his voice suddenly meek.

      “Denki,” Turner responded. “Please don’t return without an invitation from me.”

      As Jeremy repositioned the car so he could drive forward down the lane, the headlights