An Amish Courtship. Jan Drexler

table, her face as thin and gray as Esther’s, nibbling at a piece of toast.

      Neither Judith nor Esther had taken any of the scrambled eggs but were eating toast with a bit of jam. Normally, Samuel would take two or three helpings of eggs and empty the platter of bacon. He pushed the bowl of eggs in their direction.

      “I can’t eat all of this. You take some.”

      Esther startled and looked at him, her eyes wide. “Did I fix too many eggs?”

      He shook his head. “I’m just not as hungry this morning. You and Judith can eat them. Don’t let them go to waste.”

      The girls glanced at each other, then Esther divided the last of the eggs between them. Judith dug in to hers eagerly.

      “The bacon, too.” Samuel pushed the platter in their direction. He had already eaten half of what Esther had prepared.

      He drank his coffee, the bitter liquid hitting his stomach with a burn. The girls did without decent food and clothes...but whenever he had extra cash, he bought whatever he thought he needed. He stared at Esther’s thin wrists. Just like Daed had done, he made his sisters make do with whatever was left over after he had taken what he wanted.

      Samuel loosened his fingers carefully from his tight grip on the coffee cup. He had been so blind. No different from Daed.

      “This afternoon I’ll take you girls to town.”

      They exchanged looks.

      “You don’t need to do that,” Esther said. “We don’t need anything.”

      “I know you need groceries.”

      “We have no money.”

      “I’ll take one of the hogs to sell at the butcher.” Samuel drained his cup and rose from the table. “So make a list. I’m going over to Sadie’s this morning, and then we’ll head to town right after dinner.”

      Samuel took the path that led from the back of the barn through the fence row to Sadie’s place. A well-worn path that he had traveled ever since he had been old enough to chore. Daed hadn’t cared whether Sadie’s chores were done or not, but Grossdawdi had drilled the habit of shouldering the responsibility into Bram and Samuel.

      Grossdawdi Abe. Not the grossdawdi far away, Mamm’s parents, but Daed’s father. The old man had lived in the room off the kitchen for as long as Samuel could remember, until he became sick with fever fifteen years ago. Grossdawdi Abe had called Samuel and Bram into his room one afternoon when Daed was away.

      “I want you boys to promise...” He had broken off, coughing, but then continued, “Promise me you’ll look after Sadie Beiler. You boys are big enough to remember. Make sure her chores are done.”

      Then he had grasped Samuel’s wrist and pulled him close.

      “Promise me.”

      Samuel had nodded his promise. And he had kept his promise, even though Bram had forgotten. Every week, no matter what else happened, he was at Sadie’s farm to do the chores he couldn’t bring himself to do around Daed’s farm.

      Choring on Daed’s farm brought too many memories to the surface, but when he worked on Sadie’s farm, he could feel Grossdawdi Abe’s approval. He did the chores for Grossdawdi, and for Sadie, and no one else.

      Now that Sadie was elderly he made daily trips to her farm. Not to do the small chores that the old woman insisted on doing herself, but to make sure she was all right. Sadie was more frail and forgetful than she wanted to admit, so Samuel had taken it on himself to check the chickens after breakfast.

      If the morning came when the eggs hadn’t been gathered, he’d be there to make sure the elderly woman was all right. So far that morning hadn’t come, but he still took the walk across the fields after breakfast each day. As far as he knew, Sadie had no clue that he made the daily visits.

      On Mondays, though, she expected him to be there to clean the chicken coop and do some other heavy chores. She would meet him at the barn to visit for a few minutes before she went back to her work in the house and he went in to the barn. Those Monday morning talks were more than just idle chats with his neighbor. Sadie reminded him of better times, when Mamm was still alive. Before Daed became a slave to drink. Talking with her made him think that there were still peaceful and happy places in the world.

      Today, as he rounded the corner of the woodlot, Sadie was nowhere to be seen. Mary was in the garden, attacking the weeds with a hoe.

      “You don’t need to do that, you know.”

      She jumped as he spoke, but relaxed when she recognized him.

      “Good morning to you, too.” She straightened and gave him a smile. “And why don’t I need to weed the garden?”

      “I do the heavy chores for Sadie. I always have.”

      “But Ida Mae and I are here now, so we can take care of things.”

      Samuel stared at her. He had to admit that there had been times when he had wished for someone else to take on the responsibility of watching out for Sadie, but now that Mary was offering, he didn’t want to let it go. He clenched his hand, as if he could keep a wisp of smoke from slipping through it.

      “At least I can clean out the chickens’ pen.”

      She shook her head as she continued hoeing. “I’ve already finished that. Chester’s stall, too.”

      Samuel looked around the orderly farmyard. “You’ve cut the grass?”

      “Ida Mae did.”

      “Then I’ll fix the hole in Chester’s stall. Sadie told me about it yesterday and I said I’d get to it today.”

      Mary got to the end of the row and looked at him.

      “You fixed the stall, too?”

      “Ja, for sure.” Her brown eyes twinkled in the morning sunlight. “My sister and I were taught to do all of the chores around the farm. Daed’s thinking was that everyone in the family needed to know how to do chores, from cooking breakfast to mucking stalls. So, we learned.”

      “And you’ve left me with nothing to do.” Samuel felt the growl in his voice.

      “There is something we do want you to do.” Mary’s face lit up. “We hoped you could bring Judith and Esther over for a sewing frolic. Just the five of us. Aunt Sadie knows so much that she can teach us, and we all need new dresses for summer.” She twisted the hoe handle. “I’m sure the girls could make a new shirt or two for you, too.”

      Samuel scratched at his chin. The skin was itchy and irritated after being shaved this morning.

      “I’ll make you a deal.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of deal?”

      “I’ll bring my sisters over tomorrow morning, like you said, if you let me do some of the work around here. There are some fence rails that need replacing, along with a few other things, so I’ll have plenty to do.”

      She pressed her lips together, as if relinquishing the fence mending was the last thing she wanted to do.

      “All right,” she said. “You can mend the fence. But bring your sisters, and any fabric they might have. Even an old dress we can make over into something new.”

      Esther’s faded and ragged sleeve edge flashed through his mind. He would make sure his sisters each chose a dress length of fabric while they were in town this afternoon. Maybe he would sell two hogs. Then he thought of the shadowed look on Esther’s face. She would appreciate the time she spent with Sadie just as much as he did.

      He nodded. “We have an agreement.”

      Samuel stuck out his hand to seal the deal the way he would with another farmer and Mary hesitated, then slipped her slender one into his, her grip firm.

      “Agreed.”