The Middle-Aged Amish Widow Read online

Isaac laughed. “I’m sorry. Gute mariye! I was just nervous for you when I left you alone with Wilma.”

  “I told her I came here to be alone and have a rest for a time. I didn’t mention anything at all about you doing work on the place.”

  “Gut. Denke for doing that.”

  “You’re welcome. She’s a very nice lady.”

  “They all are. Will you be using the kitchen today?”

  “I figure I’ll have to if I want to eat.”

  “Cook today for tomorrow, then, because I’ll need to move on to some work in the kitchen tomorrow. The stove will need to be moved so I can replace those missing and cracked tiles behind it.”

  “Okay. Where will you start today?”

  “The ceiling in the living room. I know that the leak on the roof was fixed six months ago, but the cosmetic work was left undone.”

  “How do you know about the leak?”

  “I fixed the roof some time ago. Your mudder wouldn’t let me paint the ceiling. I’m glad she’s reconsidered. I’ll have to clean it up and then repaint it.”

  “Okay. Have you had something to eat already?”

  “I have. Don’t mind me—just pretend I’m not here. I’ve brought my own kaffe and my own food for the day.” He nodded at the basket under his arm.

  “Nee, you didn’t need to do that.”

  He laughed. “I don’t want you fussing around me.”

  “Okay. Well, bring it through to the kitchen.” She went in to fix herself some eggs for breakfast. Then she intended to cook up the meat she had bought the day before. That would be enough meat to last for a few days, she figured.

  “I’ll get started,” he said as he headed out of the kitchen.

  “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He didn’t answer.

  She suddenly felt little movements in her belly, like butterfly wings. That was just how her friend had described feeling the first kicks of her baby. She pressed her hands against her stomach. She’d felt the same sensations a few weeks ago, but hadn't known whether they were just in her imagination. Now they were stronger, and she knew that she was feeling her baby moving around. As pleased as she was, she couldn't help being disappointed that Thomas wasn’t around to share her joy.

  Later in the day, she noticed Isaac sitting on the sun-drenched porch, just where she’d intended on drinking her meadow tea.

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked with tea in hand.

  “It’s your place. Well, your mudder’s.” He pointed to the chair next to him and she sat down.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” Sarah said, squinting as she looked up toward the sun.

  “It sure is. The sun is warm, but not burning hot. I like the springtime on days like this.”

  “Me too.” She took a sip of tea while she resisted asking him if she could fix him something to eat. She glanced down by his feet and saw the sandwiches he’d talked about earlier.

  * * *

  Isaac stared at the sandwiches by his feet, picked up his container and offered one to Sarah.

  “What are they?” She peered at them.

  “They’re salted beef.”

  She frowned. “Nee denke. Did you cook that yourself?”

  “I did. I’m quite a gut cook.”

  Sarah giggled. “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

  It is nice to have the company of a woman, Isaac thought. And with Sarah being married there was no threat that she’d become interested in him and turn her hand to baking. “Nee you don’t.”

  She fixed her blue eyes on him. “What do you mean?”

  “Tomorrow I’ll cook you dinner and bring it over. It’s the least I can do since you won’t be able to use your stove. I can’t have you starve. Ruth might never forgive me.”

  “Nee, you can’t go to all that trouble when you’re already working so hard.”

  “I like cooking. It’s not work to me and besides, we both have to eat.”

  “I guess that’ll save me cooking.”

  “Then it’s settled. You’ll taste my cooking and then you’ll know that men can cook as good as women.”

  “I never doubted it.”

  He found himself laughing and relaxing for the first time in quite a while.

  “What does your husband do?”

  When she took a while to answer, Isaac figured they might be having marital problems and that’s why she’d come there alone. “You don’t have to answer that. I was just trying to make conversation to find out a little more about you since you’re Ruth’s dochder.”

  “There’s not much to tell. One thing I can tell you is that you seem to get along better with my mudder than I do.” Sarah giggled.

  “Nee!” he stared at her face and saw that it was true—she wasn’t joking. “I can’t understand that. She seems so easy to get along with.”

  “Maybe it’s me then.”

  He frowned. “I can’t think that it would be either of you.”

  “You’re far too kind.”

  “No one can ever be too kind.”

  “We’re harshest sometimes with those we love, maybe because we know they’ll never leave us,” she said.

  “That’s true. They’re stuck with us.” He thought back to his siblings who’d been harsh with his decision about joining the Amish.

  “Are you talking about how you had to leave your family to join us?”

  He nodded. “It wasn’t even a hard decision. I knew I had to do the right thing in the sight of Gott.”

  “They wouldn’t have been able to understand your choice.”

  “Nee. They didn’t. That was years ago and I’ve not heard a word from any of them since.”

  “It might be best that way.”

  “You’re most likely right, but it's been harder on me since my wife died.”

  Ruth’s horse whinnied from the paddock at another horse who was pulling a buggy on a distant road.

  “What do you like about my mudder’s horse?”

  “He takes direction well. He’s been well trained and knows what to do. And he’s a fine looking horse too. Ruth’s looked after him well.”

  "She told me she had a neighbor boy feeding him while she was gone. I must find him and tell him that I’m here now.”

  “That’ll be the Fullers.” He pointed to the house.

  “Denke. I should’ve done that yesterday, but I thought I’d see the boy around. It looks like I missed him today.”

  “One of the boys would’ve come and fed the horse before schul. It could’ve been at five or six in the morning.”

  “That would’ve been way too early for me.”

  “Did I wake you too early?”

  “Nee. Seven is fine. I was awake and just about to make breakfast.”

  “I’ll bring breakfast for us tomorrow. I don’t want the stove to be hot because I’ll have to move it out of the way to do those repairs in the tiles behind it.”

  “Okay. So, you’ll bring breakfast and dinner?”

  “Jah, and the midday meal too.”

  “I don’t know if I can let you do all of that.”

  “You can. And I won’t hear another word about it.”

  When Sarah laughed, Isaac watched her and had the same feeling he used to have when he listened to his late wife laugh. It was nice to hear that sound again while the sun warmed him. He reached for his last sandwich while he realized he’d have to get to the store to buy food before it shut.

  “I’ll finish at four today.”

  “Okay.”

  When Sarah smiled at him he was pleased. “You know, you’re a lot like your mudder.”

  Sarah laughed again. “No one has said that to me—ever.”

  “You are.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “She’s a gut listener and you’ve got that same kind self-assuredness as her.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “I’m not even certain if self-assuredness is a real word, but you both have this kind of calmness about you
as though everything will be okay.”

  When she seemed nervous and touched the strings of her prayer kapp, he wondered if he were being too familiar with a married woman. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just mean that I enjoy your company.” Was he making things worse? He studied her to see if he had offended her in any way.

  She smiled. “I enjoy yours too. And I’m determined to make the most of my time away from home. I know when I get back, my mudder will want to build the grossdaddi haus immediately.”

  “Is your husband able to help with that or is he still not well enough?”

  “He won’t be able to help, but knowing my mudder, she would’ve already found someone who’ll be able to build it. She’s not one for letting the grass grow under her feet. That’s why I was surprised to see her haus in this state.”

  “Grief can do strange things to a person.”

  “My vadder’s been gone for a few years.”

  “Jah, but she’s been living here. She might not have wanted to change anything because if she did, that would mean she was doing things without him.”

  “I see. That makes sense. That’s why she left and sent me back to do the repairs and arrange to sell the haus.”

  He nodded. “We don’t always speak what’s in our minds and our hearts; not even to those closest.”

  “I guess that’s true.”

  “I know it is.” He bit into his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. When he'd swallowed, he said, “I haven’t changed a thing in my home since Veronica’s been gone.”

  As Sarah listened to him speak, she thought back to her home. She hadn’t even considered changing anything, let alone throwing out any of Thomas’ things. It was silly to be sentimental over possessions; one day she might give his things to the charity store, but there was plenty of time for that.

  Chapter 8

  The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him.

  Psalm 28:7

  * * *

  When Sarah finished her tea, they sat talking for some time.

  "I'll leave you to it, then," she finally said, thinking he’d better get back to work. She stood up and, as he had his mouth full, he gave a small wave and nodded his head.

  She walked back into the house to cook the dinner.

  When Isaac went back to work, Sarah made certain she stayed out of his way. Eventually he’d find out she was widowed and she didn't want to be on his list of women that he avoided. She wanted to remain friends with him. It would’ve been best if she’d told him upfront, but she had tried a couple of times. Sarah laughed to herself at the thought of him thinking she was a pie lady when she first knocked on his door.

  A few hours later, Isaac called out to her letting her know that he was going. Sarah was upstairs cleaning the bedrooms.

  She opened the bedroom window and stuck her head out to wave. "Bye, Isaac."

  He looked up at her. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow."

  "Okay." She watched him get into the buggy and drive away from the house.

  It was strange to be in the house without her mother or father. She headed down to the kitchen for an early dinner. Just as she sat down, there was a knock on the door. She opened it to see Isaac.

  “I forgot it was Sunday tomorrow, so it’ll be Monday before I’ll be here again. You’ll have use of your stove for another day.”

  “Jah, I forgot what day it was too. So Monday, you’ll be bringing breakfast and dinner?”

  When he hesitated, she added, “I’m holding you to it.”

  He laughed. “Monday, I’ll bring both breakfast and dinner.”

  “Gut!”

  “Will you be coming to our meetings while you’re here?”

  “I will. Wilma gave me the address and told me it was at her bruder’s haus.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll be there. Wilma gave me the directions.”

  “I look forward to seeing you.”

  Sarah sat through the church service barely listening to what was being said. She’d met two of her mother’s friends and they’d insisted that she sit with them. As the bishop spoke, Sarah was too busy wondering which of the ladies were married and which ones were the ones chasing Isaac. Wilma was sitting two rows in front of her and there was no guessing why Wilma’s head was constantly tilted to the left, where Isaac sat amongst the men. There was another lady sitting in the row in front of Wilma, and she seemed to be glancing in his direction as well.

  After the meeting was over, Sarah was at the refreshments table in the yard when she looked across to see Isaac engrossed in a conversation with another man. The man nodded toward Sarah, and Sarah looked away but not before she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Isaac turned to look at her. She resumed deciding which foods to put on her plate.

  "Mrs. Hersler."

  Sarah turned around to see Isaac. "We’re being formal? Mr. King, it's nice to see you again."

  "I heard something about you."

  Sarah gave a small laugh when she figured he’d found out the truth. She hoped he didn’t mind her not telling him upfront. "News doesn't take long to travel around here. What did you hear?"

  "I heard that you buried your husband only weeks ago."

  "That's correct. I'm sorry I misled you. I didn't mean to. I started to tell you a couple of times when we first met, and each time I was interrupted and the moment passed. We were looking at the house repairs then. After that, I didn't want you to think that I was another widow trying to marry you."

  Isaac looked thoughtful. "I sound like an ogre, and I'm not."

  She was pleased that he didn't seem to mind her keeping that information from him.

  "If I'd told you right away that I was widowed, would you have talked so openly with me?" Sarah asked.

  "Probably not, but maybe I would've when I found out you were Ruth’s dochder and the reason you were here." He shook his head. “I have to rethink my actions."

  "You're not the only one. I'm truly sorry to mislead you in the way that I did."

  "And I'm sorry to have caused you to do it. It seems we’re both even."

  "Shall we call a truce, then?"

  "I didn't know we were fighting," he said with a cheeky grin.

  She laughed again.

  "What is it that you have to tell me, Sarah? Is there anything else I should know? You haven't replaced me as a builder have you?”

  “Nee, I haven’t and if I wanted to, my mudder wouldn’t let me. You’re quite safe. I have no secrets now.”

  “Gut! Neither do I. You know them all,” he said with a lopsided smile.

  Sarah noticed two women coming from different directions heading towards them. She guessed they were coming to talk with Isaac and not herself. "Don't turn around now, but there are two women heading this way looking directly at you."

  The corners of his mouth turned down. "The story of my life lately."

  "Can I help in any way?"

  He sighed. "I think I'm beyond help, Sarah."

  They exchanged smiles.

  "I'll see you tomorrow morning?" Sarah asked.

  "I'll be there, bright and early."

  Sarah gave both ladies a smile as they were just about level with Isaac. She looked around for the bishop to say hello. She’d met him before, but thought he might not remember who she was without her mother nearby.

  Chapter 9

  Also I say unto you,

  Whosoever shall confess me before men,

  him shall the Son of man also confess before the angels of God:

  Luke 12:8

  * * *

  The next morning, just as Sarah started drinking a cup of hot tea, she heard a horse heading to the house. She looked out the window to see Isaac in his wagon. How much could he do today in the rain?

  She walked outside under the cover of the porch. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” he said as he jumped down from t
he wagon.

  “Can you do much work today?”

  “Jah, It’s mostly inside work.”

  “You didn’t forget breakfast, did you?”

  “Nee, denke. I’ve already eaten.”

  “We had an arrangement,” she said with a pretend frown.

  He laughed. “I’ve got it. I didn’t forget.” He picked up a basket out of the back of the wagon and headed toward her.

  “I wouldn’t mind a cup of kaffe.”

  “Done.”

  They sat in the kitchen as the rain poured down. They ate warm pancakes with maple syrup.

  “I’m sorry that they aren’t hot.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They are very tasty.”

  He drained the last of his coffee. “I’ll start in the barn. I’ve got some wood to cut.”

  “Then you have to move the stove?”

  “Jah, I’ll move on to the kitchen later in the morning.”

  As he stood up from the table, Sarah stood and gathered the dishes to wash. Soon, he was outside heading to the barn. She watched him from the kitchen window. There was something about the man that she liked. No wonder the women were after him. She could fully understand how they found his quiet confidence and ready smile appealing.

  Feeling a sudden desire for pickles, she looked in her mother’s pantry hoping she kept a jar in there. Denke, Gott—pickles. She reached for the jar knowing she must be having a craving. She’d never been fond of pickles at all. The lid was stuck on hard. Try as she might, she couldn’t open it. There was only one thing to do. She headed to the door and looked out. It had stopped raining. While Isaac was there she could make use of him, she decided. She carefully navigated her way between the puddles that the last downpour had caused.

  "Isaac," Sarah called out from the door of the barn.

  "Over here.”

  She looked in to see him in an unused stall just about to saw a piece of wood. "There you are."

  He looked up at her and then rose to his feet. "What can I do for you?"

  She handed him the pickle jar. "I can't get this jar off. I mean, lid off. I can’t get the lid off the jar."