Authors: Vannetta Chapman
“Something not everyone understands.”
“After that I came home, and there were the same old troubles with
Mamm
and
Dat
, but I was stronger. You know? I was better able to handle them. But I guessâ¦I guess I just got used to being alone.”
“You're not alone now.”
“No.” Sarah smiled past the ache of her memories. “I'm not.”
“So how will you answer Paul?”
“I'd like to say yes. If you wouldn't mindâ”
“Of course I don't mind. I can handle things here for a few hours.”
“It would be
gut
to have a little time away from anyone who needs their face washed or wants to talk pig nutrition.”
“The boys are quite excited about the pigs. It's
gut
of Paul to think of them, to give them this chance to learn and even earn money.”
“But don't you see? That's part of the problem. My brothers have been through so much. So have Mateo and Mia, for that matter. I don't want them getting too close to Paul if this doesn'tâ¦well, if it doesn't work out.”
“Why wouldn't it?”
“I don't know.” Sarah rubbed at the muscle at the back of her neck. She'd slept wrong and woken with a crick. Every move felt unnatural. She was hoping by morning it would be better. “I don't know anything about him.”
“It seems you probably do and don't realize it.”
Mammi
replaced her shoe and washed her hands. Sitting back down, she pulled her basket of yarn closer and began to knit and purl. “We know he's a hard worker. He cares about the children. He's a fine farmer.”
“But those things don't necessarily make a
gut
husband.” Sarah blushed just saying the word. He'd asked her on a picnic. It was hardly a marriage proposal.
“True, but I think it tells you something about a person. If they are hardworking and dependable, then they care about others. If they are willing to help, then they are compassionate. The feelings a man has for a woman don't exist independently of who he is and how he relates to others. Rather, I think romantic feelings are an extension of those things.”
Sarah thought about that a few minutes as she nursed her mug of tea. Finally, she voiced the worry that had been circling in her mind for weeks. “You said once that you wished my mother had waited longer. That if she had, she might have realized what she was taking on with my father.”
“They were young. Younger than you are now.”
“But how do you know? How do you know that you won't regret beginning a thing?”
“I suppose the best way is to pray, and to listen to the advice of your elders.”
Now Sarah smiled. “Which would be you.”
“Yes, I guess it would.”
“And you think I should go.”
“I think you should follow your heart, but if your heart is lightened by being around Paul, if you find yourself looking forward to time with him, then yesâI think you should go tomorrow and enjoy a few hours out in the sunshine.” And then she added mischievously, “With no dirty faces to wash.”
P
aul was surprised and relieved the next day when Sarah told him yes. Actually, she'd said, “You can pick me up at three.”
Which gave him his first dilemma. How was he to pick her up? He'd spent so much time gathering his courage and then worrying over her answer that he hadn't given much thought to the details.
He had picked out a nice spot beneath an oak tree. It was far enough from the pigpen that they wouldn't be disturbed by the raucous critters. They could make quite a noise when they felt the need. The first few times he'd heard their high-pitched cries, he'd run over, certain a coyote had jumped into the pen. But no. They'd simply decided to chase each other at top speed, circling the pen, trundling through the mud, squealing and oinking and generally kicking up a fuss.
So he picked the site for their dinner as far from the pen as reasonably possible, but still close enough to the barn not to necessitate a long hike across muddy fields. Rebecca had given him an old quilt, which he spread out underneath the tree. Then he debated between walking over versus driving the tractor. Sarah worked hard all week. Maybe she would enjoy being off her feet a while. So he'd hooked up the battered Ford pickup bed to the back of the tractor and at fifteen minutes before three he'd driven over to her place.
He hadn't expected all of the children to be out on the front porch playing. All except Andy. “He's at Emma's,” Henry had explained with a wink.
Sarah had looked doubtfully at the pickup bed, but she'd climbed in with a smile. Perhaps she'd forgotten he didn't own a horse and buggy yet.
They waved at the kids and
Mammi
. Only Mia had complained that she wanted to go, and Isaac had distracted her by offering to take her to the garden to see what had sprouted. Paul doubted anything had broken through the dirt yet, but he didn't point that out.
Instead, he popped the clutch and drove the tractor slowly back toward his place. The motor was too loud for them to talk, so he focused on the lane. When he stopped beside the old oak tree and helped her out, Sarah smiled and said, “
Danki
,” and something in his heart fluttered.
She sat on the quilt and ran her fingers over the faded patchwork pattern. “I love old quilts.”
“This one was Rebecca's. She said you probably wouldn't like sitting in the grass.” He hadn't been particularly keen on sharing his dating plans with anyone, but his sister-in-law had guessed.
He and Sarah talked about the crops, the kids, and the Klines.
“You went on a mission trip with Becca and Joshua?”
“I did, and with his brother, Alton.” She added as an afterthought, “We also had a chaperoneâBecca's
aenti
.”
“What was it like in Texas?”
“Different, being on the coast, but the peopleâ¦well, after a while I learned that people are the same everywhere. Hardworking and honest, and sometimes in need of a helping hand.”
He told her again about his plans for the other fields, what he hoped to plant and when he hoped to plant it.
Finally Sarah said, “Would you like me to help you bring out the food?”
“Food?”
“This is a picnic,
ya
?”
“Um⦔ The day was sunny with a slight breeze. One of those rare days that was absolutely perfectâneither cold nor hot, but a cold sweat broke out along Paul's neckline.
“You forgot?” Sarah guessed.
“I suppose I got distracted thinking about where to have it and how to pick you up and Iâ¦well, yeah. I forgot all about food.”
“I could have brought something.”
“No, I didn't want you to do that.” At her look of surprise, he added, “What I mean is that you cook all week long.”
Paul took off his hat and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “Let me run inside and see what I can rustle up.”
“I'll go with you. We'll do it together. That is, if you don't mind my coming inside⦔
“Of course I don't.”
If his first mistake was forgetting the food, his second mistake was inviting Sarah into the barn. She'd been there before. She'd helped set up his living area and stock his pantry.
As they walked from the bright light of an April afternoon into the cooler semidarkness of the barn, he showed her the shelves he'd built, how he'd repaired some of the stalls that had fallen into disrepair. He shared his plans to purchase a buggy horse in the fall.
Sarah nodded politely about these things, but when they walked into his living quarters, the look on her face said it all. First her eyes widened, and then her mouth opened in a small
O
, and then she pasted on a smile and said, “Well. Let's see what you have.”
“Um. Maybe just check the fridge or theâ¦the pantry there to your right.” He hastily collected the dirty socks, two sets of soiled work clothes, and muddy shoes. While her back was turned, he shoved it all under his cot.
He needn't have worried about being caught. Sarah was staring at the overflowing pile of dishes in the sink. When he walked up next to her, she'd snapped out of some reverie and said, “Right. I'll check the fridge.”
“I think I have crackers and maybe a few cans of soda.”
“I found some sausage and cheese.”
She turned to him holding both in her hands, a triumphant smile again on her face.
“I'm afraid that cheese is a bit old.”
“
Ya
, but we can cut off the molded portion. It will be fine.”
He found a cutting board and sharp knife, grabbed a crate off the bottom of his pantry shelves, and dumped the items into it along with two cans of warm soda.
Sarah added the sausage and cheese.
“Oh. There is one more thing.” He opened his refrigerator and reached in the tiny freezer section. Holding up a Snickers bar, he said, “Dessert.”
Sarah was quiet as he carried the crate back toward their picnic quilt. He thought her silence said a lotâhow disappointed she was, what a terrible idea this had been, and that she wished the afternoon was already over.
They had very little left to talk about, and soon Sarah admitted that she was worried about
Mammi
and the kids. He offered to give her a ride home, but she waved him away. “It will do me
gut
to walk. I ate more than half of the Snickers bar, and you know how packed with calories those are.”
She smiled and thanked him for the picnic, but as she walked away Paul understood that he had blown it. He wished she had just laughed about it, but that look on her face when she'd seen the disaster of his small living spaceâ¦it said a lot. He folded up the blanket and went back inside. Shaking his head, seeing his place as she had seen it, he set about cleaning out the sink, adding hot water and dish soap, and washing the last week's worth of dishes.
He could plow and plant a field by himself. He'd learned to work on forty-year-old tractors. He knew that his barn was in tip-top shape. He'd personally mended the holes in the siding and roof and shined the windows. He was a good farmer. Those were all things he'd learned from his father.
But he was a terrible housekeeper. He didn't know what to pack for a picnic lunch.
And he was clueless about how to court a girl.
Somewhere along the way, he'd missed those lessons.
S
arah was still awake when Andy came home later that evening.
“Where is everyone?” he asked.
“Asleep already.”
“Oh. I didn't realize it was so late.”
“Out with Emma?”
“
Ya
. Is there anything to eat? I'm starving.”
“
Mammi
made snickerdoodle cookies. There's a container of them on the counter near the stove.”
“Want me to bring you any?”
“
Nein
.” Some days it was all Sarah could do not to revert back to her old ways. When something was bothering her, when she felt nervous at all, it was tempting to choose not to eat. She understood that for what it wasâan unhealthy coping mechanism. Control what you eat and you at least control something. But she also understood that such behavior was self-destructive. A better idea would be to pray about the things bothering her.
“I'll take a half glass of milk.” It was a small concession, but she felt proud of herself nonetheless.
“Tell me about your picnic.” Andy collapsed onto the couch, pulling off his shoes and dropping his socks on the floor.
It reminded Sarah of Paul's place, and she nearly started laughing.
“Making fun of my feet again?”
“
Nein
. It's only thatâ¦well, you reminded me of Paul for a moment.”
“How so?”
She told him about the tiny area he lived in and the complete chaos there. “Mateo and Isaac keep a room cleaner.”
“Huh.”
“Huh, what?”
“Well, it's only that picking up your socks isn't the first thing on your mind when a person is worried about crops or pigs or neighbors.”
“I guess. But how does he even eat? If you'd seen the dishes in the kitchen. I didn't know he owned that many plates and bowls. The sink was full and even overflowing.”
“It's not a sin to forget to wash dishes a few times.”
Sarah didn't know how to respond to that. Had she been adding up Paul's sins and assigning him a score? That was a terrible thing to do. More confused than ever, she changed the subject. “And what of the house on his property? When is he going to work on it? Or is he going to live in a corner of the barn the rest of his life?”