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Their Pretend Amish Courtship
Patricia Davids
Make-Believe BeauFannie Erb isn’t looking for a husband—especially if she has to leave her beloved horses to go find one. What she needs is a way to assure her parents she’s not hopeless when it comes to love. Family friend Noah Bowman might just be her solution. A fake relationship will free them both from unwanted matchmaking plans. How could Fannie predict that pretending to date the handsome, teasing boy next door would awaken genuine emotions? By summer’s end they’ll be free to part, but Fannie’s growing feelings are transforming her neighbor into the only man who might ever rein in her adventurous heart.


Make-Believe Beau
Fannie Erb isn’t looking for a husband—especially if she has to leave her beloved horses to go find one. What she needs is a way to assure her parents she’s not hopeless when it comes to love. Family friend Noah Bowman might just be her solution. A fake relationship will free them both from unwanted matchmaking plans. How could Fannie predict that pretending to date the handsome, teasing boy next door would awaken genuine emotions? By summer’s end they’ll be free to part, but Fannie’s growing feelings are transforming her neighbor into the only man who might ever rein in her adventurous heart.“Tender and gentle, with two delightful characters who truly belong together. A lovely read.”
—RaeAnne Thayne
“Tender and gentle, with two delightful characters who truly belong together. A lovely read.”
—RaeAnne Thayne
* * *
“Are you saying you’ll help me?”
“Are you going to keep throwing things at me?” he asked.
“That was an accident.”
“Accidents seem to happen around you often.”
“I thought you were going to apologize.”
“Fannie, please accept my apology for calling you crazy.”
“All right. I forgive you.”
“Danki. Now it’s your turn.”
“For what?”
“For calling me a dummkopf.”
“Lots of Amish folks have nicknames. That’s mine for you.”
He threw his hands in the air. “What am I even doing here?”
She caught hold of his arm. “I’m sorry. Will you help me?”
“I think a pretend courtship—could be in my best interest as well as yours.”
She squealed, “Noah, I could hug you right now.”
He held out both hands. “Drop the pitchfork first.”
Dear Reader (#u4b706c1a-fc14-59e4-9586-fbc45a296c2c),
Fannie and Noah have become my most favorite characters to date. And after thirty books, that’s a lot of characters. This young couple are not the most mature people, but they both have good hearts. Their dedication to their friends is what drew me to them the most.
Fannie’s temper is something I can identify with, for I raised a hothead, too, although she wasn’t a redhead. My poor daughter had many mouth-before-brain moments. Fortunately, she grew out of that temper and is now as easygoing as I am. Almost.
Fannie and Noah were at the opposite ends of their faith journey. Noah believed wholeheartedly that God would show him the path to take. In his unwavering belief, he forgot that the Lord gave us free will. We have a say in our fates. We make the choices that change our lives.
Fannie was at the other extreme. She believed, but her faith was shallow. She thought she could make life happen as she wanted because she wanted it. She forgot that nothing is possible without God’s help. Nothing. Knowing God and not asking for His help is like owning a cell phone and not using it to call 911 when you’re in a car wreck. Prayer is a tool. Use it.
I hope you enjoyed their story and I want to let you know my next book, Amish Christmas Twins, will be out in time for... You guessed it... Christmas.
Blessings to you and yours,


After thirty-five years as a nurse, PATRICIA DAVIDS hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her online at patriciadavids.com (http://www.patriciadavids.com).
Their Pretend Amish Courtship
Patricia Davids


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
And God hath set some in the church,
first apostles, secondarily prophets,
thirdly teachers, after that miracles,
then gifts of healings, helps, governments,
diversities of tongues.
—1 Corinthians 12:28
This book is lovingly dedicated to my father,
Clarence Stroda. He taught me a lot
about making my way in the world
and keeping God in my life. Thanks, Dad.
Contents
Cover (#uc3619e6b-7edb-5822-b141-1e962ef49e38)
Back Cover Text (#u99522890-a1fc-5aed-a1a9-2cd670d3a459)
Introduction (#ua811af28-52e9-59c0-a03b-184a7e588dfe)
Dear Reader (#u1511c100-0edb-5994-82bc-0df092e6d1b7)
About the Author (#ud5ecac76-d478-5596-b329-9437f2b9ae16)
Title Page (#u6e370b72-fbea-501f-94f3-a893c8e0fa2c)
Bible Verse (#u230eb5a2-cc0f-5d70-b56a-ebbe04fece1c)
Dedication (#u111a878f-c29c-565e-9d22-fb4000462a1b)
Chapter One (#u3839d355-2d70-5786-b12c-c9c110646fd2)
Chapter Two (#u0083f984-34e8-5bb4-82e9-330b12163494)
Chapter Three (#u6e7fd5de-25a4-58c7-81de-32351cbe95c2)
Chapter Four (#u1caa23e6-0439-57cb-b23f-b52790422b6b)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u4b706c1a-fc14-59e4-9586-fbc45a296c2c)
“You are going and I don’t want to hear another word about it, Fannie. Nor from you, Betsy. Do you hear me?”
When Fannie’s mother shook a wooden spoon at one or both of her daughters, the conversation was over.
“Ja, Mamm.” Betsy beat a quick retreat out of the kitchen.
Fannie glared after her. The little coward. Without her sister’s help, Fannie had no chance of changing her mother’s mind. Seated at the table in her family’s kitchen, Fannie crossed her arms on the red-checkered tablecloth and laid her head on her forearms. “Ja, Mamm, I hear you.”
There had to be a way. There just had to be.
“Now you are being sensible.” Belinda Erb turned back to the stove and continued stirring the strawberry jam she was getting ready to can. “I will write to my mamm and daed tomorrow. They insist on sending the money for your bus ticket. I expect you’ll be able to leave the middle of next week. It will be a relief to know one of us is helping Daed look after Mamm while she recovers from her broken ankle.”
“A week! That isn’t much time to get ready to go to Florida.” How was she going to come up with a plan to keep from going in a week?
“Nonsense. It’s plenty of time. You have two work dresses and a good Sunday dress. What else do you need?”
Fannie sat up and touched her head covering. “I need another kapp or two.”
Her mother turned around with a scowl on her face. “What happened to the last one I made you?”
“I lost it.”
“When you were out riding like some wild child, no doubt. It’s time you gave up your childish ways. Anna Bowman and I were just talking about this yesterday. We have been too lenient with our youngest kinder, and we are living to rue the day. She is putting her foot down with Noah, and I am doing the same with you. When you come back from Pinecraft at Thanksgiving, you will end your rumspringa and make your decision to be Amish or not.”
Fannie had heard about Anna’s plans to see Noah settled and she felt sorry for him, but she had her own problems.
Her mother turned back to the stove. “I have given up on seeing you wed, though it breaks my heart to say so.”
Here came the lecture about becoming an old maid. She wasn’t twenty-two yet, but she had been hearing this message since she turned nineteen. That was how old her mother had been when she married. Why did everyone believe the only thing a woman wanted was a husband? “Betsy isn’t married and she is two years older than I am.”
“Betsy is betrothed to Hiram. They will marry next fall.”
Fannie sat up straight. “When did this happen?”
Why hadn’t her sister mentioned it? Betsy and Hiram had been walking out together for ages. Fannie thought Hiram would never get up the courage to propose.
“Hiram came to tell your father and me last night.”
“Then why does Betsy want to go to Florida?”
Fannie’s mother took her time before answering. “She loves her grandparents and wishes to spend time with them while she can. As you should.”
After pulling the jam off the stove, Fannie’s mother came and sat beside her at the table. “Why are you so dead set against going?”
Fannie knew her mother wouldn’t approve of the promise she’d made. “I have made plans with my riding club for this summer.”
“Your horses and your club won’t take care of you when you are old. Mamm writes that there are plenty of young people in Pinecraft during the fall and winter. You may want to stay longer.”
“Young people but no horses.”
“Enough about horses!” Fannie’s mother rose to her feet. “You have chores to finish and I must get these jars of jam done. It’s a wedding gift for Timothy Bowman and his bride. Timothy’s mother told me they plan to leave on their wedding trip after the school frolic.”
Fannie clamped her lips together. Her mother wanted to change the subject. It wouldn’t do any good to argue; Fannie knew she’d only be wasting her breath. She left the room and found her sister gathering clothes off the line in the backyard. Fannie joined her, pulling down stiff wind-dried pants and dresses. “Mamm said you went and got engaged to Hiram.”
“It was time. I’m not getting any younger.”
“That’s a poor reason to marry.”
“It’s reason enough for us. We are content with each other. You are blessed to have this opportunity.” Betsy clutched a pillowcase to her chest. “I have always dreamed of seeing the ocean. I can’t imagine how big it must be. Hiram has no desire to see the sea.”
“Doesn’t he have a desire to please you?” That, in a nutshell, was what was wrong with getting married.
“It would be an expense we couldn’t afford. Perhaps someday.”
“I would gladly send you in my place, but I don’t imagine Hiram would be happy about...that...” Fannie’s words trailed away as an idea took shape in her mind. “That’s it. I need a Hiram.”
“What are you babbling about now?”
It was so simple. “Betsy, would you go to Florida if I couldn’t? What if Mamm decided you should go instead of me? Would Hiram understand?”
“He knows we must honor our elders. I would gladly take your place, but Mamm has her mind made up.”
“If she knew I was being courted, she would bend over backward to keep me here. She is desperate to see me wed.”
“She’s desperate to see you interested in any young man instead of your horses. Who is courting you? Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
“I have to go.” Fannie shoved the clothes in her arms at her sister. There was only one fellow who might help her.
* * *
“Noah, where are you? I need to speak to you.”
Working near the back of his father’s barn, Noah Bowman dropped the hoof of his buggy horse, Willy, took the last nail out of his mouth and stood upright to stare over his horse’s back. Fannie Erb, his neighbor’s youngest daughter, came hurrying down the wide center aisle, checking each stall as she passed. Her white kapp hung off the back of her head, dangling by a single bobby pin. Her curly red hair was still in a bun, but it was windblown and lopsided. No doubt it would be completely undone before she got home. Fannie was always in a rush.
“What’s up, karotte oben?” He picked up his horse’s hoof again, positioned it between his knees and drove in the last nail of the new shoe.
Fannie stopped outside the stall gate and fisted her hands on her hips. “You know I hate being called a carrottop.”
“Sorry.” Noah grinned as he caught the glare she leveled at him.
He wasn’t sorry a bit. He liked the way her unusual violet eyes darkened and flashed when she was annoyed. Annoying Fannie had been one of his favorite pastimes when they were schoolchildren.
She lived on the farm across the road where her family raised and trained Standardbred buggy horses. Noah had known her from the cradle, as their parents were good friends and often visited back and forth. Fannie had grown from the gangly girl he liked to tease at school into a comely woman, but her temper hadn’t cooled.
Framed in a rectangle of light cast by the early-morning sun shining through the open top of a Dutch door, dust motes danced around Fannie’s head like fireflies drawn to the fire in her hair. The summer sun had expanded the freckles on her upturned nose and given her skin a healthy glow, but Fannie didn’t tan the way most women did. Her skin always looked cool and creamy. As usual, she was wearing blue jeans and riding boots under her plain green dress and black apron.
He preferred wearing Englisch jeans himself. He liked having hip pockets to keep his cell phone in, something his homemade Amish pants didn’t have. His parents tolerated his use of a phone because he was still in his rumspringa. He knew Fannie used a cell phone, too. She had a solar-powered charger and allowed other Amish youth to use it if they didn’t have access to electricity.
“What do you need, Fannie? Did your hot temper spark a fire and you want me to put it out?” He chuckled at his own wit. He and his four brothers were volunteer members of the local fire department. Patting Willy’s sleek black neck, Noah reached to untie the horse’s halter.
“This isn’t a joke, Noah. I need to get engaged, and quickly. Will you help me?”
He spun around to stare at her in shocked disbelief. A marriage proposal was the last thing he’d expected from Fannie. “You had better explain that remark.”
“Mamm and Daed are sending me to live with my grandparents in Pinecraft, Florida, until Thanksgiving. I can’t go. I’ve told my folks that, but they insist. Having a steady beau is the only way to get them to send Betsy instead.”
At least Fannie wasn’t suffering from some unrequited love for him. He should have been relieved, but he was mildly annoyed instead.
He opened the bottom half of the Dutch door leading to the corral and let his horse out. Willy quickly trotted to where Fannie’s Haflinger mare stood on the other side of the fence. The black gelding put his head over the top rail to sniff noses with the golden-chestnut beauty.
Noah began picking up his tools. “I hear Florida is nice.”
Fannie grabbed the top of the gate. “Are you serious? My grandparents get around on three-wheeled bicycles down there. They don’t have horses. Can you imagine staying in a place with no horses?”
He couldn’t, but he didn’t think much of her crazy idea, either. “I’m not going to get hitched to you because you don’t want to go to Florida.”
Indignation sparked in her eyes. “What’s wrong with getting hitched to me? I’d make you a goot wife.”
She stepped back as he opened the stall gate. “Fannie, you would knock me on the head with a skillet the first chance you got. You have a bad temper.”
“Oh!” She stomped her foot, and then sighed heavily. “I do have a temper, but I wouldn’t do you physical harm.”
“Small consolation considering how sharp your tongue is. Ouch! Ow!” He jumped away from several imaginary jabs.
Her eyes narrowed. “Stop teasing. I don’t want to actually marry you, dummkopf. I said engaged, not married, but I guess it doesn’t have to be that serious. Walking out with me might do. If not, we can get engaged later. Anyway, we will call it off long before the banns are announced and go our merry ways.”
He didn’t like being called a dumbhead, but he overlooked her comment to point out the biggest flaw in her plan. “You and I have never acted like a loving couple. Your parents would smell a rat.”
“Maybe, but maybe not. Mamm has been telling me for ages that it’s time I started looking around for a husband.”
He closed the stall gate and latched it. “Better go farther afield for that search. The boys around here all know you too well.”
She wasn’t the kind of woman he’d marry. He might enjoy teasing that quick temper, but he wouldn’t want to live with it.
Her defiant expression crumpled. She hurried to keep up with him as he went outside. “Don’t be mean, Noah. I need help. I can’t go to Florida. My daed has two mares due to foal this month.”
“They will foal without you, and your father can certainly handle it.”
She walked to her mare standing patiently beside the corral. “Trinket will miss me. I can’t go months without seeing her.”
Fannie loved horses, he knew that, but he sensed she wasn’t telling him the whole story behind this scheme. “Trinket will survive without you. What’s the real reason you don’t want to go?”
She sighed heavily and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “You may have heard I took a job working for Connie Stroud on her horse farm.”
“Mamm mentioned it.” His mother kept up on all the local news. How she was able to learn so much about the community without the use of a forbidden telephone was a mystery to him.
“Connie raises and trains Haflingers. Trinket was one of her foals. Connie’s father passed away two years ago and she is having a hard time making a go of the place. She gives riding lessons and boards horses, but she needs to sell more of her Haflingers for a better price than she can get around here if she is going to make ends meet.”
“If she can’t sell a horse without you in the state, she’s a poor businesswoman.”
He walked over to two more horses tied to the fence. One was his niece Hannah’s black pony, Hank. The other was Ginger, a bay mare that belonged to his mother. Speaking softly to Hank, Noah ran his hand down the pony’s neck and lifted his front foot. He found the shoe was loose and too worn to save. He checked the pony’s back foot, expecting to find it in the same condition.
Fannie walked over to Hank and began to rub him behind his ears. The pony closed his eyes in bliss and leaned into her fingers. “I’m deeply beholden to Connie. I need to help her save her stable.”
Noah glanced at Fannie’s face and was surprised by the determination in her eyes. Fannie might be hotheaded and stubbornly independent, but she was clearly loyal to this friend. “How does pretending to be engaged help her?”
“It keeps me here. Not a lot of people know what amazing horses Haflingers are. I came up with the great idea of an equine drill team using Connie’s Haflingers plus my Trinket. We are going to give exhibitions at some of the county fairs and then at the Ohio State Equine Expo. I have seven Amish girls from my riding club who have already joined us.”
“Your parents are permitting this?” It was an unusual undertaking for an Amish woman.
She looked away from him. “We haven’t been told we can’t do it. You know how crazy the Englisch are for anything Amish. If we can generate some interest, show what Connie’s horses can do, I know it will help her sell more of them. Besides, everyone in the group is depending on me to teach them—and the horses—the routines. Our first show is in a week.”
Fannie had a way with horses that was unique. He’d always admired that about her. “I’m sure your parents will come around if you make them see how much you want to stay.”
“Mamm won’t. She has her mind made up. She says Betsy is more help to her than I am because I’m always out in the barn. Betsy likes to cook, sew, mend and clean, while I don’t. I’ll die down there if I have to give up my horse.” Fannie sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Noah put Hank’s hoof down to stare at Fannie. He considered putting his arm around her shoulders to comfort her, but thought better of it. “Would it help if I talked to your folks?”
“Nee, it won’t do any good. Mamm will know I put you up to it.”
“I’m sorry, Fannie, but don’t you think your idea is a bit dishonest?”
She shook her head. “If you ask to court me today, actually ask me, then it won’t be a lie. I can tell Mamm we are walking out with a straight face and a clear conscience.”
“I don’t see how, when you concocted the whole thing.”
“You have to help me, Noah. I don’t know what else to do. Betsy would love to spend a few months with our grandparents and see the ocean. You don’t have to tell anyone you are dating me. All you have to do is take me home after the singing on Sunday and I’ll do the rest. Please?”
Why did she have to sound so desperate?
* * *
Fannie wasn’t making enough headway in swaying Noah. She took a deep breath and pulled out her last tool of persuasion. “What are your plans for this summer?”
He looked suspicious at her abrupt change of topic. “We are putting up hay this week. We’ll start cultivating the corn after that if the rain holds off.”
“I didn’t mean farmwork. Are you playing ball again this summer?” She flicked the brim of the blue ball cap he wore instead of the traditional Amish straw hat. Once he chose baptism, he would have to give up his worldly dress.
He ducked away from her hand. “I’m in the league again with the fellas from the fire department. I’m their pitcher. If we keep winning like we have been, we have a shot at getting into the state invitational tournament.”
She twined her fingers in Hank’s mane. “You must practice a lot.”
“Twice a week with games every Saturday. In fact, we have a makeup game tonight with the Berlin team, as we were rained out last weekend.”
“You wouldn’t mind missing a few of your practices or even a game for a family picnic or party, would you?”
“What are you getting at, Fannie?”
“I’m not the only one you’ll be helping if you go out with me. Your mother has been shopping around for a wife for you. Did you know that?”
His expression hardened. “You’re narrisch. Up until this minute I was starting to feel sorry for you.”
She almost wavered, but she couldn’t let Connie down. “I’m not crazy. With all your brothers married, you are the last chick in the nest.”
“So?”
“So she’s worried that you are still running around instead of settling down. She has asked a number of her friends to invite their nieces and granddaughters to visit this summer with the express notion of finding you a wife among them. They’ll be here for picnics and dinners and singings all summer long, so you can size them up.”
“Mamm wouldn’t do that.” Amish parents rarely meddled in their children’s courtships.
“Well, she has.”
“My mother isn’t the meddling sort. At least, not very often.”
Fannie shrugged. “Mothers are funny that way. They don’t believe we can be happy unless we are married, when you and I both know we are perfectly happy being single. Are you ready to spend the summer dodging a string of desperate-to-be-wed maidens?”
“Nee, and that includes you and your far-fetched scheme. No one will believe I’m dating you of my own free will.”
She felt the heat rush to her face. “You kissed me once.”
He arched one eyebrow. “As I remember, you weren’t happy about it.”
“I was embarrassed that your brother Luke saw us. I regretted my behavior afterward, and I have told you I was sorry.”
“Not half as sorry as I was,” he snapped back. “That glass of punch you poured on me was cold.”
She was sorry that evening ended so badly. It had been a nice kiss. Her first.
She and Noah had slipped outside for a breath of fresh air near the end of a Christmas cookie exchange at his parent’s house the winter before last. She had been curious to find out what it would be like to be kissed by him. Things had been going well in his mother’s garden until Luke came by. When Noah tried for a second kiss after his brother walked away, she had been so flustered that she upended a glass of cold strawberry punch in his lap.
“That was ages ago. Are you going to berate me again or are you going to help me?” Fannie demanded.
He leaned over the pony’s back, his expression dead serious. “Find some other gullible fellow.”
Her temper flared and she didn’t try to quell it. “Oh! You’re just plain mean. See if I ever help you out of a jam. You were my last hope, Noah Bowman. If I wasn’t Amish I might actually hate you for this, but I have to say I forgive you. Have fun meeting all your prospective brides this summer.” She spun on her heel and mounted her horse.
“If I’m your last hope, Fannie Erb, that says more about you than it does about me,” he called out as she turned Trinket around.
She nudged her mare into a gallop and blinked back tears. She didn’t want him to see how deeply disappointed she was.
Now what was she going to do?
Chapter Two (#u4b706c1a-fc14-59e4-9586-fbc45a296c2c)
Noah regretted his parting comment as he watched Fannie ride away. She didn’t have many friends. She was more at ease around horses than people. Her reputation as a hothead was to blame but he knew there wasn’t any real harm in her. Her last bobby pin came loose as she rode off. Her kapp fluttered to the ground in the driveway.
Willy raised his head and neighed loudly. He clearly wanted the pretty, golden-chestnut mare with the blond mane to come back.
“Don’t be taken in by good looks, Willy. A sweet disposition lasts far longer than a pretty face. I don’t care what Fannie says—Mamm isn’t in a hurry to see me wed.”
He walked out and picked up Fannie’s kapp. At the sound of a wagon approaching, he stuffed it into his back pocket. His cousins Paul and Mark Bowman drove in from the hayfield with a load of bales stacked shoulder high on a trailer pulled by Noah’s father’s gray Percheron draft horses. The chug-chug sound of the gas-powered bailer could be heard in the distance where Noah’s father was pulling it with a four-horse hitch. Noah’s brothers Samuel and Timothy were hooking the bales from the back of the machine and stacking them on a second trailer.
“Who was that?” Mark asked.
“Fannie Erb.” Noah watched her set her horse at the stone wall bordering her family’s lane. Trinket sailed over it easily.
“She rides well,” Paul said with a touch of admiration in his voice.
“She does,” Noah admitted.
“What did she want?” Mark asked.
Noah shook his head at the absurdness of her idea. “She’s looking for a beau. Are you interested?”
Mark shook his head. “Nee, I’m not. I have a girlfriend back home.”
His brother Paul nudged him with an elbow. “A man can go to an auction without buying a horse. It doesn’t hurt to look and see what’s out there.”
Mark and Paul had come from Bird-In-Hand, Pennsylvania, to stay with Noah’s family and apprentice with Noah’s father in the family’s woodworking business. The shop was closed for a few days until the Bowmans had their hay in, and Noah was glad for the extra help.
Mark scowled at his brother. “A man who doesn’t need a horse but goes to the auction anyway is wasting a day Gott has given him. You know what they say about idle hands.”
“I won’t suffer from idle hands today—today—today. I’ll have the blisters—blisters—blisters to prove it,” Paul called out in a singsong voice. The fast-talking young man was learning to become an auctioneer.
Mark maneuvered the hay wagon next to the front of the barn. The wide hayloft door was open above them, with a bale elevator positioned in the center of it. Noah pulled the cord on the elevator’s gas-powered engine. It sprang to life, and the conveyer belt began to move upward. Noah glanced toward the house and saw his brother Joshua jogging toward them. Noah sat on the belt and rode up to the hayloft. Joshua came up the same way and the two men waited for the bales their cousins unloaded.
After stacking the first thirty-five bales deep in the recesses of the hayloft, Noah and Joshua moved to the open loft door to wait for the next trailer load to come in from the field.
Joshua fanned his face with his straw hat and then mopped his sweaty brow with his handkerchief. “It’s going to be another hot one.”
The interior of the barn loft would be roasting by late afternoon, even with the doors open. Noah pulled off his ball cap and reached into his back pocket for his handkerchief, but pulled out Fannie’s kapp instead.
The silly goose. Did she really think he would agree to court her at a moment’s notice? Only she could come up with such a far-fetched scheme. He tucked her kapp back in his pocket and wiped his face with his sleeve, determined to stop thinking about her.
He leaned out of the loft to see how close the second wagon was to being full. “Looks like I’ll have time to finish putting a new horseshoe on Hank before they get here. We have some pony-size shoes, don’t we?”
Joshua nodded. “On the wall in the tack room. I had John Miller make a full set for Hank right after I brought him home.”
“Goot.”
“I can take care of him later,” Joshua offered.
“Checking the horses’ feet is my job. I only have Hank and Ginger left.”
“What does Ginger need?”
“I noticed she was limping out in the pasture. I haven’t had a chance to see why.”
“I can take care of her. I know you want to have your work done before you head to your ball game.”
“Danki, bruder.”
“You can return the favor some other time. I’m looking forward to your game next weekend. It should be a goot one. Walter Osborn can knock the hide off a baseball when he connects.”
Walter was an English neighbor and volunteer fire fighter. Part of his job was to gather the Amish volunteers in the area and deliver them to the fire station when the call went out. He was also a good friend of Noah’s.
“Walter is the best catcher in the league and our power hitter. If we can get into the state tournament, he’ll have a chance at being scouted by the pros. Those men don’t come to these backwater places. Walter deserves a chance to show what he’s got.”
Joshua settled his hat on his head. “Are you hoping to be scouted by a pro team?”
“Where’d you get that idea?” Noah avoided looking at his brother. He’d never told anyone about his dream.
“Mamm and Daed were talking about it the other day. Your coach has been telling everyone you have a gift. It’s easy to see how much you love the game, but you’ll have to stop playing soon. You will be twenty-two this fall. Your rumspringa can’t go on forever.”
Noah gave the answer he always gave. “I intend to enjoy a few more years of my running-around time before I take my vows. I’m in no rush.”
Giving up his English clothes, his cell phone and the other worldly things he could enjoy now would be easy. But could he give up the game? That would be tough. He loved playing ball. Out on the pitcher’s mound, with the pressure mounting, he felt alive.
He suspected that Fannie felt much the same way about her horses. She would hate giving up her riding but she would have to one day. Riding a horse astride was considered worldly and only tolerated before baptism. A rush of sympathy for her surprised him.
He pushed thoughts of Fannie and her problems to the back of his mind as he climbed down the ladder in the barn’s interior and headed to the tack room. He needed to concentrate on winning the game tonight. It would bring him one step closer to his goal.
To find out if he was good enough to play professional ball.
If he was good enough, he believed it would be a sign from God to go out into the world and use his gift. If he didn’t have the level of talent that his coach thought he did, that would be a sign, too. A sign that God wanted him to remain in his Amish community. Either choice would be hard but he had faith that God would show him the right path.
He was finishing Hank’s shoeing when he heard the sound of a buggy coming up the lane. His mother and his sister-in-law Rebecca pulled to a stop beside him in Rebecca’s buggy.
His mother graced him with a happy smile from the driver’s seat. “We have just heard the nicest news.”
“What would that be?” He opened the corral gate and turned Hank in with the other horses. The second hay wagon was on its way.
“The bishop’s wife told me two of her nieces have arrived to spend a month visiting them. I have invited them to supper this evening,” his mother said quickly.
“And I received a letter telling me my cousins from Indiana are coming to visit.” Rebecca smiled at the baby in her arms. “I’ll certainly be glad to have a pair of mother’s helpers with me for a few months. This little fellow and his brother wear me out.”
“So, both your cousins are girls?” he asked trying not to appear uneasy. Had Fannie been right?
His mother exchanged a coy glance with Rebecca. “They are, and all the young women are near your age. I’m sure you’ll enjoy getting to know them. Maybe one will catch your eye. I might even talk your father into hosting a few picnics and singings this summer. Won’t that be wunderbar?”
“Sounds like fun, but you know I’ll be gone a lot this summer, and I have a ball game this evening.”
His mother frowned. “It won’t hurt you to miss one of your silly games. I insist you join us for supper and meet the bishop’s nieces.”
“The team is depending on me. I can’t cancel now. It’s important to them.”
A stern expression settled over his mother’s face. “And this is more important. Noah Bowman, we need to have a talk.”
His heart sank when his mother stepped out of the buggy. She rarely took the lead in family matters. Normally his father took him aside for a talk after some indiscretion. Rebecca drove the buggy on to the house, leaving them alone.
His mother folded her arms over her chest. “Your father and I have spoken about this and prayed about it, and we have come to a decision. My sohn, you are our youngest. Your father and I have been lenient with you, letting you dress fancy and not plain, letting you travel with your team and keep your cell phone, but you are old enough to put away these childish things as all your brothers have done. It’s time you gave serious thought to finding a wife.”
He leaned close trying to cajole her with his smile. He didn’t want her to worry about a decision he couldn’t make yet, so he told her what he thought she wanted to hear. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mamm. I plan to join the church in due time. If that is Gott’s will.”
“You give lip service to this most solemn matter, but nothing in your actions gives me cause to believe your words.”
He took a step back. She was dead serious. If his parents forbade his ball playing, he would have to do as they asked or leave home. He wasn’t ready to make that choice.
The odds of getting picked up by a major-league team were a thousand to one against him, but he needed to know if he was good enough. Why had God given him this talent, if not to use it?
What could he say that would change his mother’s mind?
He shoved his hands into his hip pockets and rocked back on his heels. His fingers touched Fannie’s kapp. Would she still agree to a courtship or had he burned that bridge with his taunting?
Swallowing hard, he pulled the kapp from his pocket and wound the ribbons around his fingers. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I have plans to see someone before my game tonight.”
His mother glanced from his face to the head covering in his hand. “Who?”
“Fannie. Fannie Erb.”
His mother’s eyes brightened as she smiled widely. She took his face between her hands and kissed his cheek. “Oh, you sweet boy. You don’t know how happy I am to hear this. The daughter of my dearest friend. Why didn’t you tell me?”
* * *
“I thought I had a plan to stay, but it fell through.” Fannie and Connie had finished exercising two of Connie’s horses and were brushing them down before returning them to their stalls.
“What plan was that?”
“I asked Noah Bowman to pretend to court me and he turned me down.” Fannie patted Goldenrod’s sleek neck and ran her fingers through the mare’s cream-colored mane. She hated to admit her failure to her friend.
Connie swept a lock of shoulder-length blond hair away from her face and gave Fannie a sympathetic smile. “Thanks for trying. Don’t worry so. The team will carry on without you.”
“Will they?”
The girls were all younger than Fannie was. They didn’t believe in the project the way she did. They weren’t beholden to Connie the way she was. If Connie had to sell her property, Fannie would lose more than a friend. She’d lose the job she loved. Riding and training horses was more than a childish pastime. It was what Fannie wanted to do for the rest of her life.
Fannie’s Amish upbringing put her squarely at odds with her dream. Although some unmarried Amish women ran their own businesses, it wasn’t common. Some worked for English employers but only until they chose to be baptized. Most worked in their family’s businesses. Her parents and the bishop wouldn’t approve of her riding once she was baptized, she was sure of that. Unless she chose to give up her Amish faith, it was unlikely she could follow her dream.
Could she leave behind all she had been raised to believe in? She wasn’t ready to make that decision. Not yet.
“I think the team will do fine,” Connie said, but she didn’t sound sure.
Fannie pushed her uncertainty aside to concentrate on her friend. “I wanted to do this for you. I owe you so much.”
Connie continued to brush her horse. “You have to get over thinking I did something special, Fannie. I didn’t.”
“You kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life. That was something special.”
“It was your love of horses that led you to make the right decision. I only wish those other young people had made the same choice.”
“So do I.” Fannie cringed inwardly as she thought about the night that had ended so tragically less than two months after her seventeenth birthday.
“Have you settled on the number of patterns the girls will perform?” Connie clearly wanted to change the subject, and Fannie let her.
“Not yet, but I will before I leave. Have you had any inquiries from the ad you ran on the Horse and Tack website?”
“Lowball bids, nothing serious. Maybe I’m just a poor marketer. These horses should sell themselves. If I had the money, I’d have a professional video made. That might do the trick.”
“My father says the Englisch want an angle, a story. A good horse for sale isn’t enough. It has to be an Amish-raised and Amish-trained horse. That’s okay for him, but it doesn’t help you.”
“I can always say raised near the Amish and trained as the Amish would, but that lacks punch even if it is accurate.”
Fannie shook her head and realized her kapp was missing. Mamm would be upset with her for losing another one. She pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket. She always carried two for just this reason. She folded it into a triangle and tied it at the nape of her neck.
A woman should cover her head when she prayed, and Fannie was in serious need of prayers. She couldn’t believe it was part of God’s plan for her to abandon her friend and to leave her beloved horses behind. “It amazes me how the Englisch think anything Amish must be better. We are the same as everyone else.”
“You’re right. There are good, hardworking people everywhere. If only hard work were enough to keep this place going. I’m glad my father isn’t here to see how I’ve run it into the ground.”
“You took care of your father as well as any daughter could. It wasn’t possible to grow the business while he was so ill. You had a mountain of your father’s medical bills to pay and you have done that. You will get this place back to the way it was and even better.”
Fannie followed Connie’s gaze as she glanced around the farm. Only four of the twelve stalls in the long, narrow barn were being used by boarders. The barn was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. The red paint was faded and peeling in places. Cobwebs hung from the rafters. A soggy spot at the end of the alley showed where the roof leaked, but all the Haflinger horses in the paddock and pasture were well cared for, with shining coats that gleamed golden brown in the sunshine. Connie took excellent care of her animals.
Attached to the barn was an indoor riding area where Connie’s nine-year-old daughter, Zoe, was practicing her trick-riding moves on her Haflinger mare. Connie had once crisscrossed the United States performing at rodeos and equestrian events as a trick rider herself. She paused in her work to watch her daughter.
“I have got to make a go here, Fannie. I have to leave my daughter something besides tarnished belt buckles, fading ribbons and debts. I don’t want to sell any of this land. My father made me promise that I wouldn’t and I want to honor his wishes. After I’m gone, Zoe will be free to sell or stay. That will be my gift to her. A woman should be able to choose her own path in life.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
Connie shot her a puzzled glance. “Strange words coming from an Amish lass. I thought an Amish woman’s goal in life was to be a wife and a mother.”
“It is for most of the women, but I can’t imagine being so tied down. I certainly don’t want to marry and give some oaf the right to boss me around.” To give up riding horses was like asking her to give up part of her soul.
“Does that mean you are thinking about leaving the Amish? I know some young people do, but won’t you be shunned if you decide to leave?”
“My church believes each person must make that choice. If I leave before I am baptized into the faith, I won’t be punished, but I know my parents won’t allow me to continue staying at home. If I do decide not to be baptized, I was hoping I could work for you full-time and get my own place someday.”
“If your plan with the drill team works out, I sure would consider taking you on full-time. I’ve never seen anyone as good with horses as you are. But don’t give up on the idea of marriage. I can’t see you settling for an oaf. It will take a special fellow to get harnessed to you, but I think he exists and I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I don’t think he exists and I’m sure not going to waste my time looking for him.”
“If I’d had that attitude before I met Zack, I wouldn’t have Zoe now. It was a fair trade. Look at that girl go. She is fearless.” Maternal pride glowed on her face as she watched her daughter circling the arena on her horse.
“She’s really getting good,” Fannie said. Trick riding was something she had always wanted to try.
“Better than I was at her age. I shouldn’t encourage her, but I can’t help it. The girl is like a sponge. She soaks in everything I tell her. I guess I’m one of those mothers who relive their glory days through their kids.”
“Do you miss it?”
Connie paused in her work. “Sometimes I do, but that life is behind me along with my failed marriage to Zoe’s father. Dad’s illness was the excuse I used to come home, but that wasn’t the whole truth. I missed staying in one place. Zack was the one with a restless spirit. Besides, I didn’t want Zoe to grow up in a camper, always headed down the road to the next rodeo. I wanted her to have a home—a real home—and Dad gave us that.”
She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Point your toes down, Zoe. Keep those legs straight and arch your back more.”
“Like this?” Zoe shouted.
“That’s better. That’s a pretty good hippodrome stand.”
Zoe grinned and waved one hand in acknowledgment as she stood atop the back of a gently loping golden horse with a wide white blaze down its face.
“Zoe is going to miss you,” Connie said, turning back to Fannie.
“Don’t give up on me yet. I may still find a way to stay.” Fannie had no idea what that would be, but she wouldn’t stop trying.
Connie put down her brush and motioned toward a pitchfork leaning against the wall. “Good. Until then, you still have work to do. I don’t pay you much, but I expect you to earn it.”
Fannie laughed as she picked up the fork. “I would exercise your horses for free, but cleaning stalls will still cost you.”
Connie untied the lead ropes of both horses. “I’ll put these two away. You start on stall five and work your way down. George should be here soon. That man is always late. I wish I hadn’t hired him.”
George was another part-time stable hand at the farm. Connie insisted she couldn’t afford full-time help, but in Fannie’s eyes, George wasn’t worth even part-time wages. He spent most of his time flirting with the girls in Fannie’s riding group—or any woman who came to the farm.
Connie motioned toward her daughter. “I’ll be back after I help Zoe with her technique. She’s getting flat-footed again and that’s dangerous, even on Misty.”
Fannie set to work in the stall Connie had indicated, but her mind wasn’t on the tasks before her. She still had to find a way to convince her parents that Betsy was the one they needed to send to Florida. No amount of pleading by her and her sister had changed their mother’s mind so far. Their father might be persuaded, but their mother was adamant.
If only Noah had agreed to her plan. She wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn’t. He was right. Her idea bordered on being dishonest, even if it was for a good cause. She didn’t want to be courted by anyone, but having Noah reject her outright was humiliating. She wasn’t that ugly, was she? There had been a time when she liked him—a lot. She tossed a forkful of straw into the wheelbarrow at her side.
She had liked being kissed by him, too. A lot. Jabbing the fork into the pile of dirty straw, she tried to forget about that night. She was the dummkopf for dumping her drink on him. He sure wouldn’t try that again.
“Fannie, can I talk to you?”
She shrieked and spun around at the sound of Noah’s voice, sending her forkful of dirty straw flying in his direction.
Chapter Three (#u4b706c1a-fc14-59e4-9586-fbc45a296c2c)
Noah stared at the debris clinging to his navy blue ball-uniform pants and white socks. “Remind me to make sure you have empty hands before I speak to you in the future.”
He looked up to see Fannie’s shocked expression change to a guarded one. “Why are you here? Was there some insult you forgot to offer?”
“My first instinct is to say I’m saving one for another day, but I’m actually here to apologize and to hear you out.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you’ll help me?”
He brushed down the front of his pants. Was he really going to go through with this? “Are you going to keep throwing things at me?”
“That was an accident.”
“Accidents seem to happen around you often.” At least, it seemed that way to him, as he’d been on the receiving end of them more than once.
She folded her arms over her chest. “I thought you were going to apologize.”
Time to get on with it. “Fannie, please accept my apology for calling you crazy.”
“All right. I forgive you.”
“Danki. Now it’s your turn.”
She thrust out her chin. “For what?”
“For calling me a dummkopf.”
“Lots of Amish folks have nicknames. That’s mine for you.”
He threw his hands in the air. “What am I even doing here?”
She reached out and caught hold of his arm. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for calling you names. Will you help me?”
“I think a courtship—a pretend courtship—could be in my best interest as well as yours.”
She squealed. “Noah, I could hug you right now.”
He held out both hands. “Drop the pitchfork first.”
She laughed softly, a bright, happy sound he discovered he liked. Leaning the implement against the wall, she turned back to him. “What made you change your mind?”
“You were right about Mamm’s plans for my summer. How did you know?”
“Rebecca, Mary and Lillian were talking about it at the quilting bee last week.”
That the three of his sisters-in-law were in on it didn’t surprise him. Wedded bliss was catching in his family. He started picking the loose straw from his socks. “What were you doing at the quilting bee?”
“Quilting. We were making a wedding gift for my cousin. Caring for horses isn’t all I know how to do.” She offered him a handkerchief from her pocket.
He used it to wipe his hands. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I can cook, clean, sew and manage a house. I just prefer taking care of horses.”
“I don’t blame you. Mamm made all her sons learn to cook, in case we had to take care of ourselves again. I learned, but I never liked it. Actually, Timothy is a good cook. Samuel, Joshua and I can get by, but Luke can’t boil water.”
He was stalling, trying to decide if he was making the right decision. Going out with Fannie wouldn’t be that bad, would it? He liked horses almost as much as she did. That would give them something to talk about. How would she feel about his playing ball all summer? She said she wasn’t ready to settle down, and he believed her, but what if she changed her mind after going out with him? He didn’t mind teasing her, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings if she fell for him.
She tipped her head to the side. “When did you and your brothers have to take care of yourselves?”
He realized she didn’t know the story. He launched into it with relief. Anything to delay the moment.
“When I was two, my mother became very ill. So ill that my father feared for her life. The way she tells it, there was a terrible blizzard. Rather than risk taking all of us out in the storm, Daed left Samuel in charge, bundled my mother in all the quilts we could spare and set out for the doctor’s office in town. The doctor was able to get mother to the hospital, but the storm was so bad that Daed couldn’t get back. Samuel took care of us and all the farm animals for three days until the blizzard let up. All we had to eat for those three days was bread soaked in milk with honey, because Samuel didn’t know how to cook anything.”
“How old was he?”
“If I was two, he would have been ten.”
“By the time I was ten I could cook almost anything—fried chicken, baked ham.”
“How is your bread?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I make goot bread.”
“And your cakes?”
“Light as a feather angel food, or do you prefer dense, gooey shoofly pie?”
“Shoofly, hands down. What about your egg noodles?”
“They could be better but they won’t choke you. Why all the questions about my cooking?”
He took a deep breath. “My daed always said a man should never date a woman he wouldn’t marry. I’ll never marry a bad cook, so I won’t date one.”
She clasped her hands together. “So you are going to walk out with me?”
He rubbed his damp palms on his pants. “I want you to know that I’ll be playing ball a lot this summer. You might miss some parties and such because I won’t be able to take you.”
“That’s okay. I’m not much of a party person. Besides, I’ll be busy with my equestrian team. But we will have to see each other often enough to convince my parents we are dating.”
“Okay. I guess I’m in.”
She jumped at him and gave him a quick hug before he could stop her. Then she flew out of the stall calling back, “I have to tell Connie.”
What had he gotten himself into? Would a summer of being paraded before unknown and hopeful women be worse than a summer of Fannie?
It would, because his parents would make sure he stopped playing ball. He couldn’t let that happen. His friends were depending on him and he needed to know if he was good enough to become a professional player. God would decide, but Noah knew he’d have to do the work.
Fannie rushed back into the stall a few seconds later. “Danki, Noah. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“We are helping each other. I think.”
Moving to stand in front of him, she gazed into his eyes. “If you truly feel this is wrong, Noah, you shouldn’t do it. I’ll find another way.”
“It isn’t exactly honest, but we aren’t hurting anyone. I’ve walked out with a few girls and it never led to marriage. There’s no reason I can’t take you home from church a few times or to a party to see if we would suit.”
She drew back. “We won’t. I’m sure of it. You are not the man I want to marry.”
“Goot to know. I was worried.”
“Don’t be. By the end of August, I’ll be ready to take Betsy’s place in Florida if she wants to come home. You’re right, we aren’t hurting anyone. Betsy wants to go in my place. She is much better at caring for the elderly than I am, and our grandparents deserve the best.”
“I see your point there.”
“Do you? Connie does need my help, too. You can see that for yourself. This place will soon be on its last legs.”
“That’s no lie,” George Milton said from the doorway. A handsome man with dark hair and dark eyes, George was an English fellow a couple of years younger than Noah. Noah knew him only slightly.
“This is a private conversation, George.” Fannie leveled a sour look at him.
“Excuse me!” He rolled his eyes and walked on.
“You don’t care for him?” Noah asked. He didn’t, either.
“He is sloppy in his work. As I was saying, I’ll enjoy riding on the drill team enormously, I won’t lie about that, but I can and will be as much help to my mother as Betsy would be. Plus, I can still help my father with his horses. I’m willing to work hard and see that no one suffers because of this decision.”
Noah’s conscience pricked him. Fannie’s reasons for this pretend courtship were more selfless than his. He simply wanted to keep playing ball.
Her face brightened. “I won’t make demands on your time, Noah. If you happen to like one of the women coming to visit, I’ll step aside and give you free rein.”
He managed a half smile. “A fella isn’t likely to get such a generous offer from a normal girlfriend.”
She slapped his shoulder. “Well, you are a fortunate fellow, Noah Bowman. I’m not an ordinary girlfriend.”
With a toss of her pretty head that reminded him of her spirited mare, Fannie walked out of the stall with a sassy stride that drew his attention to her trim figure. Among the earthy and familiar smells of the stable, he caught a whiff of something flowery.
Nope, there was nothing ordinary about Fannie.
Realizing he’d forgotten to give her the kapp she had dropped, he pulled it from his pocket and lifted it to his nose. A scent that reminded him of his mother’s flower garden in summer clung to the fabric. Since Amish women didn’t use perfume, he knew the smell must be from the shampoo Fannie used.
Flowery and sweet. Not what he expected from a girl who spent most of her time with horses.
He walked out into the arena and saw her with a half-dozen other Amish girls. They were saddling Connie’s horses. All of the girls eyed him intently as Fannie left them to speak to him. “The rest of my team is here. Do you want to watch us practice?”
“Another time. Walter is waiting outside to drive us to our game in Berlin. Do they all know about us?” He jerked his head toward the girls.
“Only Connie knows.”
He squared his shoulders and held out Fannie’s kapp. “That’s a relief. I guess I should get this over with. Fannie, may I take you home after church tomorrow?”
She glanced over her shoulder and then leaned close. “If you have to grit your teeth to ask me out, Noah, no one will believe we like each other.”
His mouth fell open. He snapped it shut and glared at her. “That is exactly what I said. Ja or nee, Fannie. Can I take you home after church or not? I don’t have all day.”
Her sweet smile didn’t reach her eyes. “As much as I would like to refuse your kind offer, I won’t. I will almost be happy to go out with you.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “And I will be sincerely happy when this charade is over.”
She took a step closer and whispered, “Not nearly as happy as I will be.”
“You ungrateful minx. Enjoy your time in Florida.” He turned away.
She caught his arm before he had taken a single step. “I’m sorry, Noah. Really. Please don’t go away mad. I will do better.”
“I must be ab en kopp, off in the head. Otherwise, why would I be here?”
She looked over her shoulder and then turned to him with resignation written across her face. “You’re right. No one will believe we are a couple. I’m not as pretty as the girls you’ve gone out with in the past. I’m much too horsey for most men to look my way. I don’t know how to act around a fella who shows some interest, so I act as if I don’t care. You’ve been a friend to me in the past and I hope that we can be friends again in the future. I’m sorry I put you in an awkward situation.”
If she had been a motherless kitten, she couldn’t have looked more forlorn. It was too bad he had a soft spot for kittens. He looked toward the group of young women watching them and sighed heavily. “Fannie, we might not be friends after this, but your teammates are gonna believe we’re a couple.”
Calling himself every kind of fool, he took her by the shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her cheek. Then he beat a hasty retreat before she had time to react.
* * *
Fannie pressed a hand to her tingling face. Had Noah wanted to kiss her, or had he done it purely for effect?
For the effect, the sensible part of her insisted. The less sensible part of her wondered if he liked her—just a little. She stared at the door where he’d disappeared until the sound of giggling and a wolf whistle penetrated the fog in her mind.
She turned to face her teammates, ignoring George’s leering stare from across the arena. “We have a lot of work to do and only a short time to do it. Mount up. Zoe, start the music.”
Connie came over and handed Fannie Trinket’s reins as the strains of “She’ll Be Coming ’Round the Mountain” blared from a speaker on the arena railing. The group had decided on the song because the rolling cadence of the music matched the gait of their horses.
Connie held on to Trinket’s reins as she gazed at Fannie’s face. “Just remember that people who play with fire often get burned.”
“I’m not going to get burned,” Fannie said quietly, praying that was true. “I know the difference between real and pretend.”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
* * *
Every time Fannie looked up from her hymnal on Sunday morning, she caught sight of Noah’s reflection in the mirror on the wall behind the bishop and preachers at the front of the room, and she started thinking about Noah’s kiss all over again.
The service was being held at the home of John Miller, the local blacksmith. The widower lived with his mother on a small farm a mile from Fannie’s home. Like many Amish homes, the walls of the downstairs could be opened up to accommodate members of the congregation during services that were held every other Sunday. Wooden benches had been placed in two rows where women sat on one side while the men sat on the other.
She should be minding the words of the bishop’s preaching, but all Fannie could think about was riding home with Noah that evening. After the singing that would be held for the youth following supper. After dark.
Would he kiss her again?
She gave herself a mental shake. The whole idea was ridiculous. How could she pretend to be interested in Noah when she wasn’t? The longer she thought about it, and she’d spent most of the night thinking about it, the less she wanted to go through with it. The only answer was to call the whole thing off.
She couldn’t silence the talk among the girls who’d seen him kiss her, but it would die down and none of them were likely to spread the story if Noah didn’t come around again. George would forget about it soon enough, and he knew very few Amish folk.
Calling it off was the right decision. She would tell Noah as soon as she had the chance.
She glanced at the mirror again. She could see a half dozen of the young unmarried men and boys in the reflection. They were all seated at the back of the room nearest the door. They would be the first to leave when the three-hour service was over. Several of them drew frowns from the ministers by their restlessness as the end approached. Fannie couldn’t blame them. The backless wooden benches were hard. She focused again on the heavy black songbook in her hands. She had been desperate, and her spur-of-the-moment plan had been foolish. There had to be a better way. If only she could think of one.
“Why is Noah Bowman watching you?” Betsy whispered in her ear.
Fannie glanced up and met Noah’s eyes in the mirror. He nodded slightly to acknowledge her. A rush of heat filled her cheeks and she looked down quickly. “I have no idea.”
“Shveshtah, you’re blushing.” Betsy smirked, causing several nearby worshippers to look their way.
Fannie shot her sister a fierce stare and Betsy turned her attention back to the bishop. Fannie glanced in the mirror again.
Unlike yesterday, Noah was dressed plain in black pants and a black coat over a pale blue shirt. He was indistinguishable from the other Amish men around him except for the shorter haircut he wore. He wasn’t the most handsome one of the Bowman brothers. Luke was the best looking while Samuel was the most hardworking, but Noah was nice looking in his own way. She liked his eyes the best. Her sister called them forget-me-not blue. Fannie liked the way they sparkled when he smiled. And he was almost always smiling.
Except when he was around her.
Not that she smiled that much around him, either. Ever since that evening in his mother’s garden, they seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Fannie couldn’t put her finger on the reason.
People around her began singing and Fannie joined in, knowing it was the final hymn of the service. Normally the preaching seemed long, but not today. Today it ended all too quickly. When she walked outside, Noah was waiting for her off to the side of the house with his straw hat in his hands. She clutched her fingers together and walked toward him.
“You look like a martyr heading to your own execution. Try smiling.” He nodded to someone behind her.
Fannie swallowed the comment that sprang to her lips and smiled instead. “Is this better?”
“Vennich.”
“A little is better than nothing.” She looked over her shoulder and saw his mother smiling warmly at them. Anna winked at her and waved before snagging Fannie’s mother by the arm, and the two of them walked away with their heads close together.
Fannie kept her grin in place with difficulty as she turned back to Noah. “You didn’t tell your mother we were going out, did you?”
He gave her a sheepish look and shrugged. “I kind of did.”
Fannie pointed to their mothers as they stood talking to each other. “She’s going to tell my mother, and I haven’t mentioned it to her.”
“Mamm put me on the spot.”
“In what way?”
He grabbed Fannie’s arm and led her around the side of the building. “She said I had to end my rumspringa and look for a wife this summer. She meant it, so I told her I was already seeing you. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? This was your idea.”
Why hadn’t she thought this through before rushing over to see Noah? “I was thinking my mother was the only one who needed to believe we were going out. I didn’t consider how your mother would feel about it.”
“She’s thrilled. Very, very thrilled.”
Fannie closed her eyes and cringed. “Of course she is. She and my mother are the best of friends. How are we going to break it to them that we aren’t getting married?”
“Whoa. Slow down, Fannie. Don’t get ahead of yourself. We haven’t had a date yet. Let’s stick to the plan at least until the second week of August.”
That was the weekend of the Horse Expo, but he didn’t know that. “Why then?”
“The state invitational baseball tournament is being held that weekend.”
She took a step away from him. “Wait a minute. You told your mother we were going out so you could keep playing baseball this summer?”
“Don’t take that tone with me. I have my reasons for agreeing to this just like you had your reasons for coming up with this idea.”
And to think she had been wondering if he liked her even a little. “It’ll never work. I’m sorry I ever suggested it.”
“Don’t be hasty. I’m willing to give it a try, unless you have your heart set on leaving for Florida next week.”
She folded her arms across her middle. How could she tell Connie she’d changed her mind after assuring her friend she would help her? She couldn’t. “It looks like you and I are stuck with each other for the summer. Very well. What are your plans for our first date?”
“We do what normal people do. We’ll stay for the singing tonight and I’ll take you home afterward.”
“Don’t expect an invitation to come in and visit, the way normal couples do.”
“If I get home too early, my parents are going to think we didn’t hit it off.”
“So drive around for an hour or two.”
“I’m not wearing out a good horse just to make you happy.”
“You wouldn’t know a good horse if you tripped over one.”
“How can you, of all people, say that?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but his brother Joshua came around the corner of the building. “Here you are. It’s our turn to go in and eat, Noah.”
“Danki, I’m coming.”
Joshua smiled at Fannie. “Would you care to join Mary and Hannah when they go in? I know they would enjoy visiting with you.”
“Danki, Joshua, but I have to find my sister.”
“We are getting up a game of horseshoes after lunch. Noah and I will take on you and your sister, won’t we, bruder?” Joshua seemed intent on getting her together with the rest of Noah’s family. Had Noah’s mother told them all that she and Noah were dating?
She forced a bright smile for Noah. “I’d love the chance to beat Noah at any game of his choosing.”
Joshua laughed. “Well, don’t pick baseball. Did he tell you he pitched a no-hitter yesterday? Against the league champions from last year. Everyone at the fire station thinks this year’s trophy will look awesome on our wall. The boy has an amazing arm.”
Fannie was surprised when Joshua winked at her, too. “I’m glad he’s finally showing some sense in his personal life.”
She wanted to sink into the ground.
Joshua left when he heard the sound of his wife’s voice calling him, but Noah lingered.
Fannie’s temper cooled rapidly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. We seem to be trapped by our little deception. Do we tell them now or let them down gradually?”
“Gradually, I guess. We started this so we might as well finish it. The next time I have a brilliant idea, don’t listen to me.”
“I won’t.”
She stared at her feet for a long moment. “A no-hitter. Wow, that’s quite an accomplishment.”
“It was due more to great fielding by the team than my pitching. Gott smiled on us.”
She was glad to hear him giving credit to others and to God. The awkward silence grew between them. Finally, she said, “I do need to find my sister.”
“Sure. See you later at the horseshoe pit.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t think I’ll take it easy on you,” he said as he walked away.
“The thought never crossed my mind, but you’d better not.”
A small grin curved his lips. There was a distinct twinkle in his eyes. “You won’t knock me in the head with a horseshoe, will you?”
“I have already promised to stop throwing things at you.”
“Goot. I’ll hold you to that.” His grin turned to a wide smile just before he rounded the corner.
Fannie leaned back against the wall of the house as a funny feeling settled in the center of her stomach. He sure was an attractive fellow when he smiled.
She shook her head at her own foolishness. “I’m not going to fall for him. This was definitely my worst idea yet.”
It would be difficult to guard her emotions if she had to spend much time in his company. If he was being nice to her, she wasn’t sure she could do it.
Chapter Four (#u4b706c1a-fc14-59e4-9586-fbc45a296c2c)
“I’m glad that’s over with.” Noah held out his hand to help Fannie into his open buggy after the singing that evening.
“So am I.” Fannie ignored his hand and climbed in by herself. “Did you see everyone staring at me when I first came in? I almost turned and ran.”
“Now that you mention it, I can’t think of the last time I saw you at a young people’s gathering.”
“They’re a waste of time if you aren’t shopping for a potential spouse.”
“Not everyone is looking to marry. A lot of us just want to have fun.”
“The boys are there for fun. The girls are all looking for someone to marry. I noticed plenty of them eyeing you. Especially the bishop’s visiting nieces. In the future, could you at least act as if you are interested in me?”
“Maybe I’m not that good of an actor,” he snapped.
“Work on it or this will be pointless.” She scooted as far away from him as she could get without falling out the other side of his buggy.
She was right to rebuke him. He had neglected her, but a group of his friends had wanted to talk baseball. He got caught up in the conversation until it was almost time to go home. That’s when he noticed Fannie sitting beside her sister and her sister’s beau, and recalled why she was there. He’d spent the last half hour sitting beside Fannie but mostly talking to Hiram as Fannie fumed. He knew the buggy ride home was going to be a rough one.
Deciding he should smooth the troubled waters with a compliment or two, he climbed in beside her. “I noticed during the singing tonight that Gott has given you a fine voice.”
“Danki. You have a pleasant voice, too.” She stared straight ahead with her arms clasped tight across her middle. Was she nervous? It wasn’t as if it was a real date.
“You don’t have to hang off the side. I don’t bite.”
“I do,” she quipped, but she relented and inched a little closer.
“Do you want to drive?” He offered her the reins.
She looked at him then. “Why?”
“I’m just asking. I know you’re almost as good a driver as I am.”
She sat up straight and planted her hands on her hips. “Almost as good?”
He flinched at her offended tone. That had been the wrong choice of words. So much for smoother waters. “Do you want to drive or not?”
“All right.” She accepted the reins and neatly turned Willy to head out of John Miller’s yard. It was after ten o’clock, and the other couples and singles were already gone.
Noah propped his feet on the dash rail and crossed his hands behind his head. “Willy has a tendency to drift to the left.”
“I see that.” She corrected the horse’s line and stopped him at the highway, where John Miller’s lane intersected it at the top of a steep hill. When she was sure the way was clear, she eased Willy out onto the blacktop.
At the bottom of the hill, a hundred yards away, the road ended in a T. Beyond the roadway the tree-lined river slipped silently through the farmland. Fannie turned Willy onto the road that skirted the riverbank. Breaks in the trees occasionally gave Noah a glimpse of moonlight rippling on the water’s surface.
He studied Fannie’s face as she sat beside him. A soft wind fluttered the ribbons of her kapp and tugged at the curls she tried so hard to confine. She held the reins with confidence, as he knew she would. He’d seen her helping her father train horses to pull buggies since she was knee-high. “Nice night for a drive.”
“I reckon. Driving at night makes me nervous.”
So the unflappable Fannie had a weakness. “Why?”
“I’m always afraid a car will come up behind me too fast and run into me.”
“It happens. We can’t know when Gott will test our faith with such a trial. Do you want me to take over?”
“Nee. I must overcome this fear.”
He worried about the tremor in her voice. She really was scared—but determined. “What do you think of Willy?” he asked, to take her mind off her apprehension.
“He’s a sweet goer. Nice smooth gait. A high stepper but not absurdly high. He has a soft mouth and responds to a light touch on the reins. He’s a goot gaul.”
“And you said I wouldn’t know a good horse if I tripped over one.”
She sent him a sidelong glance, but seemed to consider her words for a change. “Sometimes my mouth says things before my brain can stop it. Forgive me.”
An olive branch? He gladly accepted it. “You are forgiven. I’ve been known to speak rashly, too.”
“Sadly, that seems to be all we have in common.”
“We both like horses.”
A hint of a smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “There is that.”
“I’m sure we’ll find other things we can agree on by the end of the month. I’ll try if you will.”
“I reckon there’s no harm in trying. At least you aren’t as boring as Hiram. I don’t know how my sister stands him.”
“It might be uncharitable of me, but I have to agree. He is a boring fellow. If you don’t love pigs, there’s no point in striking up a conversation with him.”
She giggled and Noah relaxed. The drive wasn’t so bad after that. It wasn’t long before the fence that marked her lane came into view up ahead. She turned Willy neatly into her driveway and pulled him to a stop in front of her house. The building was dark except for a dim light glowing in the kitchen window.
She handed Noah the reins. “Would you like to come in?”
“I thought you weren’t going to ask me in.”
“Another one of my mouth-before-brain moments.”
It was an accepted custom for an Amish girl to invite her date in for a visit, even though her parents would be in bed. The young man and woman were expected to be on their best behavior. They would talk or play board games until very late as they got to know each other.
“I don’t see Hiram’s buggy. Do you think he’s gone home already? I know he left with your sister.”
“He never stays long.”
Noah shrugged. “He’s an odd duck. Sure, I’d like to come in.”
“Really?” The look of shock on her face was priceless.
He hopped down, secured Willy and turned to help Fannie out of the buggy, but she was already standing on the ground. “You don’t have to come in, Noah. We can pretend you did.”
“I think we’ve done enough pretending for a while, don’t you?”
“I reckon you’re right.”
She led the way inside and closed the door quietly behind him. “I made some cinnamon-raisin biscuits this morning. Would you like one?”
“Sounds goot.”
“Do you want to sit in the living room or here in the kitchen?” She had her hands clenched tightly together.
“The normal place for a couple to visit is in the living room, but I like the kitchen better. It’s cozy.” He took a seat at the table.
She seemed to relax. “I agree. No point in trying for a normal courtship at this point.”
Moving to the cupboard, she removed two plates and placed two biscuits on his and one on hers. She sat down at the table and pushed his plate toward him. He wasn’t hungry, but he pulled off a small piece and ate it. The raisins were plump but the dough was tough.
“How is it?” she asked.
“It won’t choke me.”
She scowled and opened her mouth but he forestalled her. “Brain first, mouth second, Fannie.”
Her scowl faded and she blushed. “They aren’t my best.”
“They’re far better than anything I could make. I imagine cooking is like playing ball. It takes a lot of practice to get good enough to make it look easy.”
“Do you practice your pitching at home?”
“Some. I have to pester my brothers or my cousins to catch for me. They don’t always have time.”
“Have you always liked playing ball?”
“Are you kidding? What boy doesn’t? Don’t you remember all the recesses we spent playing softball at school?”
“I remember staying in to write I’m sorry for something or other on the blackboard a hundred times. I was always in trouble. I wasn’t any good at hitting the ball so I wasn’t picked for a team very often.”
“I used to get you in trouble a lot. I thought it was funny to see you get angry. Your face got so red. I’m sorry about that.”
She shrugged. “We were kids.”
“Still. It wasn’t kind of me.”
They talked about school for a while, sharing memories and funny stories from their childhood days. It surprised Noah that she recalled so many of his exploits. The Bowman boys were known for their adventuresome natures, but he wasn’t the wildest one.
“Luke was the worst of us,” Noah admitted. His brother had left the Amish and gotten into trouble with the English law over drugs, bringing shame to the family.
Fannie’s eyes filled with sympathy. “No one would know it now. He’s changed for the better.”
“Gott and Emma changed his heart.” Luke had become a devout member of the faithful, much to his family’s joy.
“Does your brother Timothy like teaching school? It’s unusual for a man to become a teacher.” She nibbled on the edge of her biscuit.
“He loves it, especially since his wife, Lillian, teaches there, as well. You heard the school is holding a frolic, didn’t you? The school board has decided to add a wing to the building for the upper classes that Timothy teaches. They are pouring the new foundation next week.”
“We heard about it. Mamm and Daed have said they will help.”
“That’s great. The more hands we have, the easier the work will be.”
She sighed heavily. “It’s odd to think about our school changing as much as it has.”
“You haven’t said you forgive me for teasing you the way I did back then.”
“I forgive you.” She looked at him from under lowered brows. “Just don’t do it again.”
He chuckled. “If you don’t throw stuff at me, I won’t call you carrottop, copperhead, fire-eater or ginger nut ever again.”
“Aw, thanks for nothing. Ginger nut? No one ever called me a ginger nut.”
“Did I miss that one when we were young?”
She plucked a raisin from her biscuit and tossed it toward him. He caught it in his open mouth and she giggled.
He sat up straighter. “I say you can’t do that again.”
“And I say I’m not going to spend time sweeping the kitchen floor after my failures. Besides, I think it’s time you went home.”
He checked the clock on the wall, surprised to see how late it was. “I reckon you’re right. Our team has a game next Saturday. Would you care to come and watch?”
“I can’t. We have our first competition at the Wayne’s County Fairgrounds that day. That’s if I’m not on my way to Florida. You can come watch us practice at Connie’s place on Tuesdays and Thursdays at six.”
“Are you sure I won’t be bored?”
“I doubt it. You appreciate good horses the same way I do.”
“I’m thinking not as much as you do. Our team, the Fire Eaters, practice on Wednesdays and Fridays at five o’clock over behind the fire station. You’re welcome to come watch us.”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Talk about boring.”

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