Her Pretend Amish Beau
Author
Patricia Johns
Reads
19.3K
Chapters
13
Chapter One
Delia Swarey stood in her messy kitchen. Dirty dishes were stacked on the crumb-scattered counters, and the floor hadn’t been swept since yesterday. They were in a busy time here at the Swarey Flower Farm, and in order for her and her four boys to get the outdoor work done, something had to slide. That turned out to be her housework.
Delia ran her hands down her gray work apron. It neatly covered a pink cape dress. Even without anyone to see her inside the house, she did better with her own appearance than she did her countertops. Her dark brown hair, highlighted with a few gray strands, was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck and covered with a crisp, white kapp.
A knock drew her away from the mess, and she headed over to the side door and pulled it open with a tired sigh. A teenage girl stood on the step. She wore a pink cape dress in a darker hue than Delia’s, and her blond hair was pinned back neatly underneath a white kapp.
“Hello, I’m Violet Lehman.” The slim girl had her head cocked to one side, and one hand planted on her hip. “I’m Judith and Bernard Lehman’s granddaughter from next door, and I was wondering if you might have a job for me to do.”
“Are you here visiting?” Delia asked.
“Yah, my daet and I came to help my grandparents move to my aunt Dina’s house.”
“Right...” She’d been so busy that she hadn’t been keeping up with her neighbors’ lives, and she felt bad about that. Violet’s father was Elias Lehman—she knew him from grade school. “I didn’t realize you’d arrived yet. I thought—”
“It’s okay,” Violet said, and she glanced over her shoulder furtively. “The thing is, I’m here for a couple of weeks, and I want a job, if you’ll give me one.”
“A job?”
“Yah. I can do most things. I’ll weed and hoe, water plants, carry buckets—whatever you need. If you’ll pay me.”
Delia glanced back at the messy kitchen. Would the girl want to clean up?
“How do you feel about housework?” Delia asked.
“I was hoping—” Violet’s face fell “—I was hoping for real work.”
As if cooking and cleaning wasn’t real work! Any woman who had to keep up with it all knew just how much work it really was. It was women’s work, but she thought she understood.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Thirteen.”
Delia might have guessed older, but at this age, it could be hard to tell. Violet was nearing the age of graduating from the eighth grade and would be getting a job after that, anyway.
“And how does your daet feel about you asking me for work?” Delia raised her eyebrows.
Violet’s cheeks pinked. “He...doesn’t know.”
“I can’t very well give you work without your daet’s permission,” Delia said. “I’m sorry, Violet. As much as I could use some extra help around here right now...”
“You could let me start now, and I’ll ask him at dinnertime,” Violet said quickly. “He won’t mind, especially if he knows I already started. Then he’ll see that it’s just fine.”
Delia wasn’t about to be part of a girl manipulating her father, and she spotted a tall, lean man over by the fence. He pushed his hat back on his head. He had a full, dark married beard and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. Was that Elias? He had broad shoulders and an easy way of standing that was familiar. She hadn’t seen him since his wedding twenty years ago, when he hadn’t grown his beard yet. He was three years older than she was, and Delia had just turned forty-one this year.
“Is that your daet?” Delia nodded over Violet’s shoulder.
The girl turned and her shoulders slumped ever so little. “Yah.”
“Well, let’s bring him over and sort this out,” Delia said. “I could use the help, and I’ll pay you for it, but I need his permission.”
Delia waved, and Elias leaned down and slid between the rails of the fence, then headed over in their direction with an easy swagger, and Delia repressed the urge to check her kapp with her fingertips. He’d certainly matured into a nice-looking man, she had to admit.
“Delia!” Elias smiled as he ambled up. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”
“Yah, Violet and I just met.” Delia smiled at the girl. “She’s a lovely young woman.”
“Danke, I couldn’t agree more,” Elias said, then he sobered. “I heard about Zeke. I’m sorry, Delia.”
“Danke, but you understand that pain. I heard about Wanda,” she replied. They’d both lost their spouses in the last few years.
“Yah, it’s been...hard.” Elias looked down at his daughter, then sighed. “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away.”
“Blessed be the name of the Lord,” Delia murmured, completing the Scripture reference. “It’s not always so easy to accept it, though, is it?”
“Not at all,” he agreed. “I’m sorry to bring up sad topics. My daughter and I are here in Redemption helping my parents move to my sister Dina’s place. They just built a new dawdie hus, and my parents will be much more comfortable over there. My other sister Mary and her husband are taking over this house, so there’s a lot to prepare.”
“She mentioned that,” Delia replied. “I was talking with your mother about it not so long ago, and I thought there was another month still. But we’ve been so busy here with flower orders for some big chain stores that I think the time got away from me. Without Zeke, it falls to me and the boys to keep it all running, and I’ll admit it hasn’t been easy.”
Violet sent Delia a hopeful look that made the girl suddenly look younger, and Delia’s heart melted. With four boys of her own, she had a soft place in her heart for little girls. She’d hoped to enlarge her family with a daughter before Zeke died, but it hadn’t been Gott’s will.
“Elias, Violet mentioned she might have some free time to help me out around here,” Delia said, casting the girl a smile. “I don’t know if you’d be okay with it, but if she’d be willing to help me and the boys with some garden work, I’d pay her for her time.”
Violet’s smile was a grateful one. What could Delia say? She’d enjoy having a girl around here, too. Being the mamm of four boys left her perpetually outnumbered, and while Violet wouldn’t exactly even things out, it would be nice, all the same.
As if on cue, Delia’s two middle boys, Thomas and Aaron, came out of a greenhouse and headed in their direction. Their gloves were dirty, and they wore rubber boots. They’d been watering the more delicate rose bushes. She smiled indulgently in their direction.
“Meet two of my boys,” Delia said. “This is Thomas—he’s fifteen—and Aaron, who’s fourteen.” The boys arrived at the house then. “Boys, meet Violet Lehman. She’s the daughter of my friend, Elias.”
Thomas and Aaron exchanged a look, not to be distracted by a girl, apparently, because they then eyed Elias suspiciously.
“Is this a friend like the man from Bird in Hand?” Aaron asked, lowering his voice, but still loud enough to be heard by Elias, and Delia felt her face heat.
“No, Aaron. Not like that. This is Judith and Bernard’s son and granddaughter.”
“Oh, good,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “Sorry. There have been some men interested in courting our mamm. Just making sure you weren’t one of them.”
“Thomas!” Delia gave him an annoyed look. “I don’t have a lineup of men asking for my hand. You make one or two callers sound like a flock!”
“There were three of them,” Aaron countered.
“Over a span of two years,” Delia replied, and she looked over at Elias to find an amused smile tickling his lips.
“Daet, can I work for Delia?” Violet asked earnestly.
Delia was glad for the distraction from this current direction the conversation had taken.
“Working with boys?” Elias said, and he looked about ready to shake his head in the negative.
“I’ll have to work with boys when I get a real job, Daet,” Violet said, and she darted a cautious look in Delia’s sons’ direction. “And these ones seem decent enough. Their mamm looks like she’d keep them in line.”
Aaron’s freckled face blushed red then, and Thomas barked out a laugh. “Our mamm is downright terrifying.”
“I am not!” Delia said, shaking a finger at them. “You two, get back to work! We’ve got lots to do.”
Thomas shot her a grin that never ceased to soften her up, and Aaron eyed Violet once more as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her. But they did as they were told and headed back in the direction of the greenhouses.
Delia let her gaze move over the rows of greenhouses to the flower plots beyond—row upon row of lavender, daisies, chrysanthemums and baby’s breath had come into bloom. The color and the scent drew tourists in from the side of the road, and they’d take pictures.
“What kind of work do you need her to do?” Elias asked.
“She’d have to take direction from the boys,” Delia said. “They’re watering plants and adding fertilizer. Soon enough we’ll be picking stems for a large flower order. It’s careful work—we can’t be damaging the blooms—but I’m sure she can do it.”
Violet shot her a relieved smile. She’d probably thought that Delia was going to offer her housework. Well, Delia wouldn’t mind an opportunity to tidy up her own kitchen for a change from the outdoor work.
“Well...” Elias sighed. “Okay, if you’re offering her the work.”
“Aaron! Thomas!” Delia called. The boys turned. “Take Violet with you and show her what she can do to help out, would you? You can get her a pair of my rubber boots and one of my aprons!”
“Danke!” Violet said with a brilliant smile, and she jogged off in the boys’ direction.
“You don’t have to worry about my sons,” Delia said. “They are well-raised boys, I can assure you. My oldest, Ezekiel, already has a girlfriend of his own. And my youngest is only eleven. You’ve seen the biggest danger just now.”
Elias nodded. “I have a feeling your boys would be good kinner.” He looked in the direction of his daughter’s receding form as she ambled next to the boys toward the largest greenhouse. The aprons and boots were kept there. “Did she come asking for work?”
“Yah, she did,” Delia replied. “I guess she’s eager to make her own money.”
Elias nodded slowly, then stopped nodding and shook his head. “She’s had a hard time since her mamm passed. She’s got her own way of seeing things.”
“How has she been dealing with it all?” Delia asked.
“She’s gotten rebellious.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. I only want to keep her safe.”
“But if her biggest rebellion is getting a job—” Delia shrugged.
“It’s not.” He winced, and for a moment, he seemed to hold his breath. Then he exhaled in a rush. “Delia, I know it’s been ages since we’ve been friends, but can I count on your discretion?”
“Of course.”
“She’s been idealizing the Englisher ways. She’s got a little radio that she listens to their music on, and I caught her with a tube of lipstick a month ago. Lipstick!”
“Well, she can’t get away with wearing it,” Delia said. The Amish didn’t wear makeup, and lipstick would stand out, no matter how subtle the color.
“Not here, but if she were in town...” He sighed.
“I know, I know,” she said. “You worry that she’s going to attract the wrong attention.”
“Exactly. And that she’s flouting rules for the sake of being rebellious. If she’s doing that now at the age of thirteen, what will she be doing at seventeen when it’s time for her Rumspringa and she gets a bit more freedom?”
“I understand that worry,” she said. “I used to worry about Ezekiel, but he’s in his Rumspringa now, and the worst thing he’s done is play music on a radio in his buggy. Oh...and he bought a pair of Englisher running shoes, but he hardly wears them.”
“It’s more than that. It’s the loss of her mamm. I know it was particularly hard on her, and she’s angry, but she doesn’t have anyone to blame.”
“No one but Gott,” she murmured.
Delia understood that anger. She’d felt it for a little while after her husband died. Why hadn’t Gott intervened? Why had he chosen to take her husband right when she’d needed him most? She’d worked through it, but then she was a grown woman. How could a girl know how to make sense of such a loss? That kind of emotional turmoil wasn’t Violet’s fault.
“How have your boys dealt with Zeke’s passing?” Elias asked.
They were getting right to the personal business, weren’t they? But she could see the worry in Elias’s eyes. Not many people could understand their situation, she knew. Losing a spouse, and then carrying on raising children as a single parent, was the hardest thing a person could do.
“You saw how protective they are of me,” Delia replied. “They’re like roosters around here, and I’m the only hen to protect. They hate it when I even entertain the idea of another man in my life. I’ve tried talking to them about it, but they don’t want a new daet. And they figure they can take care of me themselves. They think I’ll forget about a new husband if they can carry the burden on those boyish shoulders. I don’t want them to do that. It’s sweet, but...”
“Wrong,” he finished for her.
Delia leaned against the doorframe. “Yah. Wrong. But will they listen?”
“Have they been questioning their faith?” he asked, lowering his voice.
“No...not that I know of,” Delia said. “Do you really think Violet will leave the faith?”
He spread his hands. “How can I know? She’s told me a couple of times already that she wants to go English when it comes time for her Rumspringa. She wants a job so she can save up her money. She’ll change her mind on that, won’t she?”
She knew what Elias wanted her to say—that Violet would forget about it, outgrow the ideas, and everything would turn out perfectly given a bit of time. But how could Delia know that? He wanted reassurance that Delia couldn’t provide. She shook her head, and instead said, “They keep us hopping.”
“Do they ever.”
How long had it been since Delia had had an honest conversation like this with another parent? She’d talked to other mothers, but these days she found herself reassuring everyone that she was doing just fine. She didn’t know why she’d fallen into that habit. Her sisters and brothers had all left for other communities, so she didn’t have the support. For the most part, Delia was fine. But telling other married women that she wanted to get married again felt almost like she was envying them their healthy, happy marriages. And maybe she was! But she didn’t like to admit it. Talking with Elias felt different, though. He had his own struggles, and he was in the same situation she was.
Delia met Elias’s gaze and she smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Elias.”
It was comforting, somehow, to see an old friend who could sympathize.
“It’s good to see you, too,” he said.
“Did you want to come inside?” she asked, and she glanced over her shoulder at the messy kitchen and winced. “Actually, my kitchen is a mess. I’m going to be honest with you—I can’t keep up with proper housework and with the farm work. So when I have to choose between a job that will keep money coming in and one that will just give me a clean counter again, I choose the income.”
“Understandable.” He met her gaze easily. “And if you’re offering to let me come in, I won’t judge.”
Delia stood back and gestured through the door. “Then come on in, Elias. You’ll see the worst of my kitchen, but I suppose it’ll make us truly friends if you don’t faint.”
Elias laughed at her joke and came inside. She watched him as he glanced around the kitchen—the unfinished dishes, the cluttered counter, the messy table. He didn’t look alarmed, and she headed over to clear off the table and give it a wipe. There were still a few dishes from the boys’ snacks on the table, and bread crusts from unfinished midmorning sandwiches.
“I don’t know why I just told you all that about Violet,” Elias said. “You’re easy to talk to.”
“I’m also in the same wagon, so to speak,” she said. “It’s not easy parenting alone.”
“I’ve been working hard at keeping my mouth shut in Indiana, hoping Violet will settle down and I’ll figure out how to help her adjust. I don’t want her reputation to be damaged. Her struggles should be private.”
“I try to keep up appearances, too,” Delia replied, carrying a stack of dishes to the counter and returning with a wet cloth. “I hate being ‘Poor Delia.’ I don’t want to feel sorry for myself, and I don’t want other people feeling sorry for me, either.”
“That’s pride,” Elias said with a rueful smile. “I should know. I’m the same way. Not that it’s working very well, but I try.”
Delia wiped off the table, took a pair of boys’ boots off the seat of one chair and carried them to the mudroom where they belonged.
“You know, I could talk to Violet,” Delia said as she returned. “If she’s working over here, I might have an opportunity. Kinner can be like that—they won’t hear a word from the parent who loves them more than life, but they’ll consider something from a stranger. Maybe I can give her a word of wisdom.”
“You’d do that?” Elias asked.
“Elias, of course! We’re all in this together, and parenting is hard.”
“Maybe I could help you out with your boys, too,” he said.
Her boys would only close the circle and think that Elias wanted more from her. They’d get defensive and very likely rude. She couldn’t have that.
“I’m not sure that would work,” Delia replied. “They’ll just see you as a threat.” An image sprang into her mind of a scarecrow—stuffed with straw and incapable of feeling any pain whatsoever. “The most helpful thing would be to have a scarecrow to let them work out their worst behavior so they can get over it and put it behind them!” She smiled ruefully and deposited a plate of muffins into the center of the table, within reach of her guest. “But don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”
“A human scarecrow?” Elias said, his eyebrows rising.
“I was joking! I can’t ask you to put up with their bad attitudes. They can be a handful. I love them dearly, but I also know my boys.”
“It’s not a bad idea, actually.” Elias plucked a muffin off the plate and peeled back the paper. “Your sons want to protect you and take care of you like their daet did. It’s part of being male—that drive to protect a woman. And they need to talk about all that—work it out. Sometimes it’s hard to show our weakness in front of extended family and the ones who know us best. But you and I might be able to help each other. If you helped me to sort out my daughter’s anger, I could take a couple of weeks of teenage angst for you.”
And Elias cast her a heart-stopping lopsided smile. Her heart skipped a beat. Was he offering what she thought he was offering? And dare she consider it?
Elias wasn’t even sure why he’d offered it! Standing in to let four teenage boys take out their confused feelings on him? But she was offering to talk to his own confused teen, and he was grateful—maybe too grateful. And Delia was comfortingly beautiful. She had creamy skin with natural color in her cheeks, and eyes that made him want to smile for no reason whatsoever. Her dark hair had a few strands of silver now. When he knew her years ago, she’d been sandy blonde, but time had darkened her hair and softened her figure.
That shouldn’t matter. It didn’t really, he told himself firmly. It wasn’t like he was ready to take on a whole new family, either!
The side door banged open and a young boy came inside.
“Mamm, I need a Band-Aid!” he hollered and stopped short when he saw Elias. “Oh. Sorry.”
“Where did you hurt yourself?” Delia asked. “And this is Elias, an old friend of mine. Elias, this is my youngest, Moses. He’s eleven. He’s my almost-teen, but I lump him in with the others.”
Elias gave him a nod, and Moses’s gaze turned shrewd. He was a skinny kid with a spattering of freckles across his nose. The sun had left him pink. He was suspecting more than a friendly visit, it would seem.
“Show me where you’re hurt,” Delia said.
Moses pulled up a pant leg, and there was a smear of blood on one shin. Delia tutted, got a cloth and opened a tin of Band-Aids.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
“On the fence.”
“You boys leave more of your own flesh on that fence,” she said. “You could walk around to the gate, you know.”
“It’s too far. I like going over.”
Elias couldn’t help but smile at that. In his home, it was all about school drama, deep sighs and his daughter telling him he couldn’t possibly understand anything about the right running shoes to go with her dresses. But he remembered being a boy who climbed over fences and skinned his knees. Boy problems were refreshing.
Delia bandaged Moses up and then looked out the side window.
“Did you finish weeding the fourth row?” she asked.
“Yah, that’s why I was going over the fence. I was going to get an apple from the tree.”
“Those are green,” she said. “You’ll get a stomachache.”
“Can I have a muffin, then?”
“Sure.” Delia handed him one and pointed him toward the door. “If you want a break, that’s okay, but after that you can either help me with dishes or check for eggs in the henhouse.”
“Aw...” Moses made a big show of sighing. Delia was unmoved. “Okay. I’ll check for eggs.”
“Good choice!” Delia shot her son a smile. “And thank you for your hard work, Moses. You’re really growing up.”
The boy’s shoulders straightened at the compliment, and he headed for the door. When the screen door flapped shut behind him, Delia took the Band-Aids back to the cupboard. She was strong and competent, and there was wisdom in those dark eyes of hers. He felt better just being in her kitchen.
“And I haven’t even offered you something to drink!” Delia said suddenly. “What kind of a hostess am I?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Elias said. “Sit down.”
Delia blushed a little and pulled out a chair. She reached for a muffin.
“The thing is,” Elias said, “you’re the only one I’ve talked to in two years who really gets it. The Early Widowed Club is a lonely group. There aren’t too many of us, and no one else really understands the challenges, even though they try. And your boys look like good kinner to me. I think I could probably get them to talk, especially if they thought I was trying to court you. They’d have a whole lot to say about that.”
That was how boys worked—they’d open up if they figured it was for a cause. Otherwise, they’d be tight-lipped.
“You might be too brave,” she replied with a low laugh.
“What happened to the other three men who tried courting you?” Elias asked.
“My boys chased them off,” she replied. “Or I caved in and called it off because my boys couldn’t handle it. It amounts to the same thing.”
It did. Her boys were locking things down around here—no matter how good their intentions were about taking care of their mother. And his daughter was going wild on him and threatening to leave the Amish faith just as soon as she could run away. That thought chilled his blood. But Elias might have a solution...
“If our kinner thought that we were courting,” Elias said slowly, “it might give us time to help them get over a few things.”
Delia turned her head to the side, then looked back at him.
“How would Violet feel about you courting someone?” Delia asked.
Through the window, Elias could just see the front of the biggest greenhouse. The door opened and his daughter came out clad in a dark apron and gum boots. One of the boys gestured out toward a garden plot and she turned after them and disappeared from sight.
“It might do Violet good to see that her Amish life can go on,” Elias said quietly. “I think that might be part of her problem. Her mamm is dead, and she can’t imagine life just...going on without her, you know? She’d rather leave everything behind than face life without her mamm in it. And I understand. I just can’t seem to make it better for her. But if she could see that life can go on with her mother’s memory intact, I think it would help her.”
“You do understand her,” Delia said quietly.
“She doesn’t think I do.”
Delia nodded. “Yah. It’s hard for all of us—harder for the kinner, for sure.”
The more he thought on it, the more this idea seemed to be a good one. Add to that, his parents had already been hinting strongly that he should be looking in Delia’s direction for a new wife, even though he’d told them that he wasn’t ready for anything like that.
“My boys aren’t ready for me to date, but this might actually help,” Delia went on. “I can’t let them keep guarding me like they’re doing. This might be just the thing to change the tone around here. If they could face the thought of me spending time with a man, we can sort out all those confusing feelings—without my sons being an actual threat to a new relationship.”
“And if I don’t get Violet talking about her feelings, I might lose her for good when she’s old enough to make a choice for the faith,” he agreed. “This might get her talking. I think it’s worth a shot.”
He looked down at Delia, and he could see the emotions flickering across her face, until they finally settled into a smile.
“So...for the kinner?” she asked.
“Yah.”
“How would we do this? I don’t want to lie to them,” she said.
That was a problem. He didn’t want to lie, either, but sometimes parents kept some information back from kinner, for their own good.
“We could simply tell them that we’re old friends, and we like each other...” Elias paused. “I know it’s been a while, but I always did like you. So that wouldn’t be a lie.”
She dropped her gaze. “I thought you were nice, too.”
“And we could tell them that we want to spend more time together and see where things go,” he suggested.
“Technically all true,” she agreed with a nod. “Except we’re seeing where things go with our kinner instead of each other.”
“Yah, exactly.” It was a deft side step.
“And when it’s time for you to go back to Indiana?” she asked.
“We tell them that we enjoyed getting to know each other and that we’ll stay good friends, but that we decided to keep things on a friendship level.”
Delia nodded slowly, and her lips pursed in thought for a moment. Then she nodded again.
“It wouldn’t be bad for them to see how that works,” she agreed. “How many young people cause untold grief because they don’t know how to simply let go and move on when a romance doesn’t work out? But if they can see two mature people spending time together in a virtuous way and moving on without hard feelings, it might be a valuable lesson for the future for all of them. That’s a skill, you know.”
“Yah, I know it.” This might be even better than he thought. He might not have a wife to help him in the raising of his daughter anymore, but a good friend might make up the difference. “So...are you willing?”
“I am.” Another, even brighter smile broke over her face.
And he felt a flood of relief. This might be a reckless idea in some ways, but sometimes Gott provided just the solution when a man needed it. And Delia seemed like the perfect solution to him.
