neighbor did in her kitchen. At first, her question, and in front of her father and brothers, had stopped my heart, but then I realized with a quick scan of my eyes that her family didn’t take her forwardness as wrong behavior. If one of my sisters had spoken so directly to a boy in my father’s presence, he would have immediately taken her aside and chastised her for openly flirting.
As I unscrewed the cap on the gas tank of the mower, my mind raced. Even though I tried to block the curiosity from spilling over, I started to wonder about the girl. How old was she? What did she like to do?
Did she have a boyfriend?
The last question made me pause, and suddenly I felt unreasonably jealous—a foreign emotion to me. Why should I be jealous when I only just met the girl, and she was English besides? I knew the English kids began courting really young. I reckoned she was probably around sixteen, which was just old enough to begin courting in the community. But for an English girl, she might already have had several boyfriends.
That was a troubling thought.
“What did you think of our new neighbors?” Jacob asked quietly enough but still busting into my thoughts as he managed to sneak up on me. He stopped for a moment, his bright brown eyes waiting, with the harness over his shoulder.
I shrugged, not wanting him to know about my infatuation with an outsider. “They seem like nice people.”
“I noticed the way you looked at that girl. I admit she was pretty, but don’t be developing any ideas, Noah. It’ll only get you into a whole heap of trouble with Father and Mother—and the church,” he said sternly.
“Why did Father even invite them over for dinner if the elders are so adamant about us not interacting with the English, especially the ones our age? It makes no sense,” I retorted, irritated that my almost-twenty-year-old brother was already giving me a rough time about the girl, and I’d only just met her. Why did everything have to be so difficult?
“Mr. Cameron is a doctor and he’s going to be working at the hospital in town. Father feels that he’s an important English man to know. But, and let me stress this to you, little brother, that doesn’t include his wild daughter.” With that, Jacob headed for the barn.
“Where are you going?” I asked, cross that he would threaten me and then walk away like that. Maybe the English kids had the right of it. Perhaps I should just beat the tar out of him for being so condescending to me. I was confident I could whip him in a fair fight.
“I’m going to pick up Katie. She’s coming for dinner, too.” He answered without turning to me and then disappeared into the barn.
Pity quickly replaced anger. Katie was Jacob’s betrothed. They were marrying in November, and ever since he began courting her, he had completely changed. He’d become one of them—the strict “follow the rules of our church’s Ordnung and never have any fun” adults in the community. The transformation had happened almost overnight once Father and Mother had agreed to the courtship. Jacob began spending every Sunday evening at Katie’s house, arriving home after midnight with a goofy smile on his face. It was astonishing what a little bit of kissing could do to a fellow’s brain. It was like a disease or something, and once a man caught it, he was doomed to never have any fun again.
And although it seemed like a distant memory now, it was only a couple of years ago that Jacob had insisted, in secret, of course, that he’d leave the Amish and go English when he reached eighteen. Unlike me, he hadn’t taken to the farmwork as readily, and with his sharp mind, he’d been all too interested in the many gadgets that the outsiders had in abundance.
I was never tempted by such things. They were just…things, and confusing at that. But Jacob had been different. From the time he was small, his mind had been overactive. Unable to fight his urges, he had filled his curiosity in many ways; by studying the engine in the driver’s truck or playing with the computers and games that were on display at the local stores—all to our parents’ chagrin.
Believing that he was a brother lost to me, I was surprised when he did a full turnaround after choosing to court Katie. Now everything had changed—Jacob was one of the most dedicated young Amish men in the community
The same fate would catch me someday, too. It was inevitable. I’d watched all the older boys go through the same process, and many of them had been so adamant about leaving the community and going English. ’Course, they never did. It was easy to talk about it—and maybe even yearn for it—but to actually do it was a whole ’nother story. Surviving in the outside world was not an easy thing, especially for someone who’d been raised Amish. But it seemed that all desires to go outside the community and experience the English lifestyle were extinguished when a pretty girl came along.
Unlike the others, there’d never been a time in my life when I wanted to leave my world. The ties I had with my family and the members of the church were very important to me. I loved working the farm and driving the horses—I wouldn’t trade those things for any of the comforts and entertainment of the English people.
Their way was definitely not my way.
Hurrying, I pushed the heavy mower to the house and started it up. While I pushed it through the short grass, barely needing any cutting at all, I decided that I wasn’t going to waste my time pining away over a girl that I could never have—and one who wasn’t a part of the life that I had been born into.
But even though I tried to block her from my mind, focusing on everything else under the sun, I couldn’t stop wondering about what it would be like to kiss such a girl. Those thoughts made the time spent mowing go quickly. With more energy than I’d felt in a while, I finished the yard in fifteen minutes and raced to the house to get ready.
Mother, Sarah and Rachel were flitting around the kitchen like busy hummingbirds when I came through the door in a rush. I couldn’t help noticing in just a glance that Mother looked stressed, having to stretch the meal unexpectedly for the guests.
To my surprise, even my littlest brothers, Daniel and Isaac, each had a broom in hand and were sweeping the wooden floor. Mother must have been desperate, to hunt the rowdy boys down and ask them for help.
“I’m taking a shower, Mother,” I said, hurrying through the kitchen. I had spoken to her in English, but as usual with the older Amish, she answered me in Pennsylvania Dutch.
“Noah, tell me what they were like. Father said little except that they were coming for dinner.” She had actually stopped working on the pork chops to stare at me with intense curiosity. My sisters looked about the same, waiting for my answer.
“Well, there are three kids,” I offered, wanting to just get out of the kitchen.
“Are there any girls?” Sarah asked with wide-eyed excitement.
“One—her name is Rose and she’s about your age, and the older boy, Sam, is probably my age, and then there’s a younger brother. I think his name is Justin.” I answered her in a very matter-of-fact way, especially trying not to give anything away when I mentioned Rose’s name. Women were pretty intuitive about stuff like that, and I worried that just a few words and they’d see right through me.
“Rose… That is a pretty name.” I couldn’t help agreeing with her. Not that I’d admit it out loud.
She drilled on with the interrogation, asking, “How were they dressed—are they modest people?”
Here we go. The image of the dirty, wet and aggressive kids rose up in my mind. I was at a loss for words, but I recovered quickly and lied. “They were very modest and nice English people, Mother. Now, I stink, and I need to take a shower before they arrive.” I impatiently waited for her to excuse me.
“Do you believe they’re Christians?” Mother asked with a sharper-than-usual voice.
What was I going to say to that one? Father had already witnessed the young ones fighting like riled-up roosters, and I was sure he’d be filling her in on the details when they were alone in their bed after dark. I’d be surprised if they even went to a church. “I don’t