Her Amish Holiday Suitor

“Do you suppose you could keep a low profile anyway?” he requested.

“Unfortunately, a low profile is all I can keep.” Lucy giggled. “Let’s just say being five feet tall is something of a shortcoming.”

Amused, Nick smiled. Most meed he courted were too self-conscious to laugh at what they considered physical imperfections. Not that Lucy’s height was an imperfection—it was how the Lord had created her—but she was unusually short compared to most of the Amish in their district.

In the library parking lot he offered to help her down from the carriage, but she insisted she could manage on her own. Covertly glancing around, he noticed a group of Englisch preteen girls hanging out on the library steps—probably waiting for their parents—but he didn’t see any Amish people or buggies. “I’ll be back at eight thirty to pick you up,” he said.

“The library doesn’t close until nine so it’s fine if you’re running a few minutes late.” When Lucy smiled Nick noticed that her straight, white teeth gleamed in the light cast by the streetlamp. He watched as she trod past the Englischers who gave her a once-over and then giggled behind their hands. Not even as tall as the shortest of the girls, Lucy held her head high and swung her canvas bag as she passed them. Whether she was oblivious to their presence or deliberately ignoring their ridicule, Nick couldn’t guess. Lucy was more complicated than she seemed on the surface, a characteristic he found both intriguing and frustrating.

Nick directed his horse toward an Englisch lumberyard in Highland Springs. Ordinarily, he would have purchased his supplies from the local lumberyard, but the Englisch one was open late and he was relatively certain he wouldn’t see anyone he knew there at this time of evening.

Since he’d already made Kevin purchase most of the supplies he’d need from their father’s hardware store, Nick only needed to buy paneling. It was a challenge to secure the long pieces of wood in his courting buggy, and he frequently had to stop along the way to the cabin to reposition them.

As he journeyed, Nick thought about Kevin grumbling over how much the supplies cost. That should have been the least of his brother’s concerns. It was as if the boy didn’t fully appreciate how much trouble he would have been in if Jenny Nelson hadn’t extended such grace. Nick asked the Lord to touch Kevin’s conscience and to open his eyes to his careless behavior. Please, Gott, help me to be a better example to him, too.

When he arrived at the cabin, he flicked on the lights and began unloading the supplies. Preoccupied with trying to figure out where to begin deconstructing the wall, Nick didn’t realize how late it was until a clock chimed eight times—or was it nine? He glanced at the mantel place clock. It was nine. The library was closed and Lucy would be waiting. Experience told him the only thing worse than breaking up with a woman was being late for one. She was going to be madder than a hornet.

He flung the last of the materials into a messy stack in the corner of the room, locked the cabin door and bounded across the lawn to his buggy. This was one of the many occasions when it was clear that buying Penny hadn’t been an impractical choice; the animal trotted as quickly as Nick allowed and he arrived at the library within fifteen minutes.

As he approached the building he couldn’t see Lucy and he worried she may have left without him. But how? From what he could tell, it wasn’t likely she’d undertake a walk that far in daytime, much less in the dark. His heart shuddered. Had something befallen her? But when he scanned the entrance area again, he spotted her partially obscured by shrubbery on the side of the library steps. Her bag was at her side and she was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees. She’s so thin she’s probably chilled to the bone, he thought.

Her head was tilted toward the sky and Nick wondered if she was praying. Maybe she was asking God to hasten Nick’s arrival. He brought his buggy to a halt and jumped down. His movement seemed to startle her, and she rose and absentmindedly brushed off her skirt.

“I’m sorry, Lucy,” he said. “I got so involved with my tasks I entirely lost track of time.”

Still looking upward, she replied, “I understand how that can happen. I was so absorbed in my embroidery I almost got locked inside the library just now. The librarian found me in a corner chair in the basement and chased me out. Look, is that Mars?”

Astounded that Lucy wasn’t angry, Nick’s eyes followed the skyward direction of her pointed finger. “Jah, I think you’re right.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked. “I’m usually not outside at this time of night so I hardly ever get to see the planets and the stars.”

Nick saw them all the time, but he never stopped to appreciate them the way she apparently did. They stood side by side in silence observing the sky until a shiver passed over Lucy and she said, “We’d better get going. It’s late.”

Reluctantly, Nick nodded and reached for her bag. He repeated his apology. “I really am sorry I wasn’t here when I said I’d be here. It won’t happen again.”

This time he assisted her into the buggy more gingerly than he had the first time, and instead of handing her the wool blanket he kept in the buggy, he spread it across her lap and tucked it beneath her feet with care.

Lucy had the sensation she was floating. She tried to convince herself it was because she’d made so much progress on her stitching, but that wasn’t the only reason. The truth was, she liked the idea of being courted, even if it was a false courtship. The experience of being outdoors at night beneath the stars was romantic in itself, and no man except her father had ever assisted her into and out of a buggy. She’d been missing out. If the attentiveness of a young man who wasn’t even a real suitor made her feel this blissful, how might she feel if the man truly liked her? Maybe when her stint with Nick was completed, she should accept Frederick as a suitor after all. She still couldn’t really picture it, but then she never imagined a buggy ride with Nick Burkholder could be so pleasant, either.

“You’re home late,” Mildred commented. She and Katura were lounging across their beds, but they hadn’t yet turned off the lamp when Lucy entered the bedroom. “Where did you and Nick go?”

“Oh, we went...out,” Lucy replied vaguely.

Katura tossed her long, loose hair over her shoulder, clearly pretending to be indifferent. “Could you turn down the lamp, please?” she asked. “Some of us have to go to work in the morning.”

It was a barb that ordinarily would have gotten Lucy’s goat. She worked just as hard as her stepsisters did to contribute to their family’s expenses, and she dared say she worked harder on keeping house. Furthermore, since Betty regularly visited her sister in Elmsville, most of the meal preparation fell to Lucy, too. But tonight she shrugged off the comment and dimmed the light as requested.

The room was quiet and by the time she eased into her bed, Lucy thought her stepsisters had fallen asleep. But then Mildred urgently hissed, “Spill the beans already, Lucy. What did you and Nick do tonight?”

A delicious vibration fluttered down Lucy’s spine as she said, “We went for a ride and we talked.”

Katura snorted, belying her earlier indifference. “That doesn’t sound like very much schpass. Or very romantic.”

“We also looked at the scars in the sty,” Lucy bashfully confided.

“The scars in the sty? Don’t you mean the stars in the sky?” Katura shrieked. She and Mildred laughed uproariously and Lucy’s face felt scalding hot. She couldn’t account for the slip of her tongue, but now her stepsisters were going to think she was so smitten with Nick she couldn’t speak straight. “I must be overly tired,” she said by way of excuse, and quickly joined in with their laughter so they wouldn’t know how abashed she was by her mistake.

After they quieted down, Mildred pried, “Did it seem like he wants to take you out again sometime?”

“Jah. We’re getting together on Thursday night.”

“That soon?” Katura sounded surprised. Then she added nonchalantly, “I suppose that’s all right, as long as he’s able to attend our caroling rehearsal on Friday night. We’re going out for pizza afterward.”

It irritated Lucy that Katura acted as if she were granting permission for Nick to court her, but she didn’t want to say anything in her defense, lest she trip over her words again. So Lucy simply bade her stepsisters good-night and pulled her quilt up to her chin.

She slept so soundly she realized upon waking she had missed another opportunity to prepare her father breakfast. And by the time Lucy was dressed, Katura and Mildred had already left for work, too. It must have been all that fresh air the night before—she never slept this late. Now she was going to have to hurry to make up for lost time. She had to complete a Christmas tree skirt she was custom designing for a customer from Schrock’s by this afternoon so she could drop it off at the shop on the way to the soup kitchen that evening.

In the kitchen she discovered a note from Betty indicating she’d be spending the day with her indisposed sister again. She requested that Lucy prepare supper and instructed Mildred and Katura to sweep the floors and beat the rugs when they returned home. Lucy tried not to think ungracious thoughts, but preparing supper took longer than beating the rugs and sweeping the floors, especially since those tasks would be shared between the two sisters. Lucy didn’t usually mind doing housework—in fact, she preferred the house being neater and more organized than the others did—but today she desperately needed time to work on the tree skirt.

Once she’d chopped vegetables and cubed the meat for stew, she put them in a pot to simmer throughout the day. Then she began making bread. In between kneading the dough, punching it down and allowing it to rise again, she embroidered the final touches on the tree skirt. With its array of pine trees and cardinals, church bells and candy canes, the design was exactly what the customer wanted, although it was too flashy for Lucy’s taste. She preferred the simplicity of white-on-white snowflakes or perhaps the accent of a sprig of holly here and there.

Like their linens and curtains, the Amish tended to keep their house decorations simple, too, but Lucy relished the Christmas holiday season when she could place candles on the windowsills and arrange evergreen boughs on the mantel. It didn’t take much to make their home feel festive and Lucy couldn’t wait to begin adorning it on Saturday. Perhaps this year Katura and Mildred would help her. I’ll probably have to bribe them with cocoa and cookies though. Immediately she regretted her sour thought and she asked God to forgive her attitude.

Mildred once asked Lucy if she got bored “sitting around embroidering all day,” but Lucy seldom did. Not only did she enjoy creating freehand designs, but she also used the time to pray. For example, as she worked on the Christmas tree skirt, she prayed that the family who ordered it would have a healthy, joyful, Christ-centered time of worship together.

Then her mind drifted to Nick. Reflecting on his willingness to help repair the cabin for Christmas, she realized she wouldn’t have guessed he’d demonstrate such a selfless devotion to his Englisch friend. Thinking of him, she was tickled by a chill, and she rose to stoke the stove and check on the stew.

By the time her stepmother and sisters came home, it was four o’clock. Her father returned at four thirty. He knew how important it was for Lucy to work at the soup kitchen, so he always made a point to return home by four thirty on Wednesdays, even if it meant he had to walk whenever his Englisch coworker was putting in overtime and couldn’t give him a lift home. This was one of those days.

“Denki for walking home, Daed,” she told him after she’d dropped the skirt off at Schrock’s and they were on their way to the soup kitchen. She was perfectly capable of handling the buggy herself, but he insisted, so she let him. It was another cherished occasion when she could spend time with him alone.

“What you do at the soup kitchen is important,” he said. “Just don’t let yourself get too run-down. Now that you’re...you’re socializing more, you might not have as much energy as you usually do.”

Lucy caught her father’s profile in her peripheral vision. Although he used the term “socializing” instead of “courting,” she felt guilty. Grinning broadly, he appeared so pleased. “I’m not actually...” she began, but then she realized she couldn’t back out of her agreement with Nick. It meant so much to him—and to the Nelsons. “I’m not going to get too run-down, Daed.”

“Gut. Because you deserve to enjoy yourself. And any young man—er, any young person who keeps company with such a smart, engaging maedel like you is very fortunate.”

Lucy was touched by how careful her father was to avoid using Nick’s name, as well as by his endearing sentiments. She knew few men in Willow Creek besides her father would consider her to be engaging, but she appreciated his opinion all the same.

At the church where the soup kitchen was located, Dan Ebersole was retrieving folding chairs from the closet near the back door where Lucy entered the building. Having recently moved from an Amish settlement in Ohio to nearby Elmsville and being reserved by nature, Dan didn’t have many friends, but he and Lucy had struck it off well together. “Your face is... It’s kind of glowing,” he faltered. “I mean, you look really happy tonight.”

“I am really happy,” she said. “It must be because Grischtdaag is my favorite holiday and it’s getting closer.” But as much as she loved Christmas, Lucy had never felt quite this cheerful about the holiday before. No, this kind of joy came from somewhere else.

On Thursday evening before starting off for Lucy’s house, Nick asked his mother for another wool blanket to stow in his buggy.

“Is there a snowstorm on the horizon?” she asked with a lilt in her voice.

“Neh, I want it in case Lucy gets cold,” he answered before he realized his mother was teasing him. His ears blazing, he hurried from the house.

As he directed Penny across town, he reasoned it was only common sense to bring an extra blanket for Lucy. She was so thin the wind probably went right through her, and he didn’t want her to complain. Then he began to worry that Lucy, like his mother, might interpret the gesture as something other than his being considerate; she might interpret it as a sign of affection. He couldn’t have that. This was a phony, short-term courtship, nothing more. So after Lucy was seated in the buggy, Nick handed her the spare folded blanket instead of arranging it for her as he’d done on Tuesday evening.

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