“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