An Amish Courtship. Jan Drexler

son. The one who had stayed home. But Mamm had still died.

      Tilly trotted across the culvert over the stream and the next crossroad was in sight. A quarter mile west, Annie had said. His stomach churned with something. Anger? Resentment? Or was he only nervous?

      Samuel pulled Tilly to a stop at the corner. He didn’t have to turn. He could continue down this road, find a spot to rest until it was time to pick up the girls again and face Bram another day.

      But he was done with putting things off. That’s the way Daed would have handled this. He would have ignored Bram, pretended he didn’t exist to punish him for taking off to Chicago all those years ago. If he was going to come out from his daed’s shadow, he needed to face Bram.

      Make amends.

      He turned the corner and headed west, keeping Tilly’s pace to a slow trot, even though she shook her head in protest. Samuel kept the reins tight, holding her in. He wanted time.

      The farm was on the left after he crossed another little creek. A Dawdi Haus nestled in the grass near the creek, with a flower garden in the front. The main house stood on a rise near it, and a white barn sat at the back of the lane. A field next to the lane was planted with corn, and the stalks stood nearly a foot high. A team of four matching Belgian horses grazed in the pasture beyond the barn.

      Samuel pulled Tilly to a halt in the road. The horses in the pasture meant that Bram was at home, not out in the fields. He fought the urge to keep driving down the road and turned Tilly into the lane. Someone had seen him coming. An old man watched him from the porch of the Dawdi Haus, but Samuel followed the sound of metal hammering on metal that rang from the barn.

      He halted Tilly near the barn door and climbed out of the buggy. The ringing continued. He tied the horse to the rail alongside the barn. No break in the rhythmic hammering from inside.

      Looking around, Samuel spied the old man, who had walked up to the main house and stood on the front porch. He lifted his hand in a wave and Samuel returned the gesture. There was no alternative now except to face Bram. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he walked into the barn.

      Just inside the door, he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. Bram was at the end of the main bay, working on a plow, his back to the door. A boy stood next to him. The seven-year-old held his hands over his ears to block out the noise, but leaned as close to Bram as he could, fascinated by the work.

      Bram stopped hammering and bent down to inspect his work. “You see here, Johnny,” he said as he pointed, “that was the piece that had come loose. But now it’s fastened in good and tight and should work fine.”

      Samuel walked toward them and the boy saw him.

      “Daed, someone’s here.”

      Bram straightened and turned, a welcoming smile on his face until he saw who it was.

      “Samuel.” His voice held a note of surprise.

      “Hello, Bram.”

      Bram pulled off his gloves and laid one hand on the boy’s shoulder without taking his gaze away from Samuel. “Johnny, we’re done here. Why don’t you go see if your grossdawdi needs any help?”

      Johnny ran out the back door of the barn and Bram stepped closer.

      “I didn’t expect to see you.”

      Samuel tried to smile. “Annie told me where you live.”

      “You’ve been to Annie’s?”

      “I brought Judith and Esther to her house for the quilting this morning, and I thought I’d stop and see how you were doing.”

      Bram stared at him. “If I remember right, when I stopped by the farm last year you told me that I didn’t belong there, and you didn’t want to see me again.”

      Samuel took a step back. Ja, for sure, he remembered that day. Bram had been all slicked up in a gabardine suit. An Englischer through and through.

      “You didn’t look like you wanted to stay.”

      Bram stepped closer. “You didn’t even let me go to the house to see the girls.”

      Samuel looked him in the eyes. “You weren’t our brother anymore. You were some fancy Englischer. How did I know what you wanted from us?”

      His brother looked down. “You were probably right.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was hoping to hide out at home, but when you sent me on my way, I had to make other plans.” He smiled then, looking at Samuel again. “I should probably thank you for that. If you hadn’t forced me to move on to Annie and Matthew’s, I would never have met Ellie.”

      “But the last time we spoke, at the barn raising, you threatened me.”

      “Ja, well, I did, didn’t I? You must understand, there were some dangerous men around and I didn’t want you to get mixed up with them. I was hoping to scare you off.”

      Samuel felt the corner of his mouth twitch. “More dangerous than you?”

      Bram’s mouth widened in a wry grin. “Dangerous enough. But that’s in the past. My life is different now. Better. Much better.”

      Samuel nodded, looking around at the neat, clean barn. “Life has been good to you.”

      “God has been good to me.” Bram grabbed Samuel’s shoulder and squeezed it. “What about you? How are things going for you?”

      Samuel scratched at his chin, missing the whiskers. “Not as good.”

      “When I stopped by last year, it looked like the farm was doing all right.”

      He shrugged. “As well as when Daed ran it. The hogs sell, and that brings in cash when we need it.”

      “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Mamm died. How did Daed take it?”

      “You don’t know how she died? Annie didn’t tell you?”

      Bram shot him a look. “What do you mean?”

      “Daed was drunk. He and Mamm were arguing.” Samuel shut his eyes, trying to block out the memory of the shouts, Mamm’s cries. “She fell down the stairs and died three days later.”

      “Annie never told me any of this.” Bram ran his hand over his face. “What do you think happened?”

      “You know what Daed was like when he lost his temper.”

      Bram nodded. “Especially when he was drunk.” He paused and their eyes met. “Do you think that had anything to do with the accident?”

      Samuel shook his head. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if it wasn’t an accident. I’ve gone over it in my head again and again. All I know is if he hadn’t been drinking, he wouldn’t have been fighting with her. But he drank all the time back then.”

      They stood in silence as Samuel relived the memories again, and felt the release of having someone to share his suspicions with. Whether or not Daed had shoved Mamm, causing her fall, or if she lost her balance, he would never know. He had never told anyone about what he had witnessed that day.

      Finally, Bram sighed. “I’m sorry, Samuel. I left home because I couldn’t take Daed and his temper anymore, but I left you alone with him. I shouldn’t have done that. We should have faced him together.”

      Samuel shrugged. “You know Daed. He kept us working against each other so that we wouldn’t work against him.” Samuel stared at the barn floor as he realized just how strong their father’s influence had been. “We were never friends, were we?”

      Bram shook his head. “Daed always picked at me, asking me why I couldn’t be more like you. He always did like you the best, you know.”

      Samuel stared. “What do you mean? He always told me that I should be more like you.”

      Bram stared back at him, then his laugh came out