The envy was worse than the shame.
When people spoke of Bram, respect echoed in their words. Respect Samuel had never heard when people spoke of their daed...or him.
As much as Samuel wanted to prove to the community that he wasn’t the same man as his father, he had fallen short. Nothing he said made any difference. They treated him the same way they always had, as if a man could never change.
That girl with the brown eyes, Mary, was different, though. New in the community, she knew nothing about his past. Nothing to make her judge him. Perhaps if he could do something to earn her respect, the rest of the community would follow.
Samuel rubbed at his beard, remembering how Mary Hochstetter had stood up to him before church. If he could earn her respect, he wouldn’t care about anyone else’s opinion.
He picked at a loose sliver of wood on the fence post. It broke off and he stuck it in his mouth to use as a toothpick.
“Samuel?”
The woman’s voice came from behind him. Unfamiliar. It wasn’t Judith or Esther.
“Samuel Lapp? Is that you?”
He straightened and turned, facing this new challenge. But when he saw Mary Hochstetter standing next to the wheel of the last buggy in line, watching him, he felt his tense face relax into a smile.
“Ja, it’s me.”
She twisted her fingers together.
“When we met this morning, I was very impolite.”
“Forget it.” The words came out rough, and he cleared his throat.
She ran her hand along the wooden buggy wheel, brushing off a layer of dust. “I let myself form an opinion of you without learning to know you first. Sadie says I should be careful not to judge a book by its cover.”
She smiled then, still watching the dust drift from the buggy wheel into the air. His heart wrenched at the soft curve of her lips.
“I wasn’t very polite, myself.”
“You were fine. I mean, you didn’t do anything—” Her face flushed a pretty pink. “I mean, you were friendly.” Her face grew even redder. “Except for...when you winked... I mean, I’m sure you didn’t mean to be forward.” She bit her lip and turned away.
Samuel resisted the urge to step close to her, to cover her embarrassment with a hand on her arm. “I think I know what you mean.”
“I heard what you said in there.” She tilted her head toward the house in a quick nod. “I think it is wonderful-gut that you want to help with that poor farmer’s work. In Ohio, the community always works together when one family is having trouble.”
He felt a flush rise in his cheeks at her words of praise. “We do that here, too.” He couldn’t look at her face. If she had heard what he said, then she had also heard the derisive remarks from the other men.
“That’s good.”
Samuel dared to raise his eyes, but she was fingering the buggy wheel again. As another little cloud of dust drifted to the ground, she glanced at him and smiled. “I must go help wash the dishes.”
Mary walked back toward the house, turning once when she reached the center of the yard to give him a final glance. Samuel raised his hand in answer and leaned against the fence post behind him. She opened the screen door and entered the covered porch, disappearing from his view.
Samuel scratched his beard, running his fingers through its short length. Sometime after Bram had come back last year he had stopped shaving. A clean chin had been a sign of his single status, but last fall he had stopped caring. Stopped thinking that what he looked like mattered to anyone.
But now, his insides warm from Mary’s kind words, he suddenly cared what she thought about him and his farm. Maybe he could earn her respect. Maybe he could hope to move out from under Daed’s shadow and become a member of the community the way Bram was.
He tugged at his whiskers, watching the screen door that had given a slight bang as Mary had disappeared. He tugged at the whiskers again. Maybe he would shave in the morning.
* * *
“Who would think that two nice girls like Judith and Esther would have a brother like that?”
Ida Mae leaned her arms on the back of the front buggy seat and tilted her head forward between Mary and Aunt Sadie.
All three of them were tired after the long Sunday afternoon at the Stutzmans’, but they had enjoyed a good time of fellowship. All of Mary’s fears had been for nothing. This new community had welcomed them with open arms.
“Samuel has a burden, for sure.” Aunt Sadie turned to Ida Mae. “Don’t be too quick to dismiss him, though. There’s more to him than he shows us.”
“Judith and Esther are nice girls, didn’t you think so, Mary? Judith is going to bring a knitting pattern over this evening. She is so friendly.”
“Ja, they both are. Is it only the three of them in their family, Aunt Sadie?”
“Their parents have passed on.” The older woman’s expression softened as she looked back over the years. “There were six children. A nice family, it seemed, until...” She glanced at Mary and Ida Mae. “I don’t want to gossip. They were a nice family. Bram is the oldest. He left the community during his rumspringa, but his mother never gave up hope. Even on her deathbed she had faith that Bram would come back home.”
“Did he?” Ida Mae watched their aunt’s face, interested in the story.
“Ja, he did. Not until after she had passed on, but he did come back. He married a widow from Eden Township and lives down there with their children. A good Amishman, even after all his troubles.”
Ida Mae leaned closer. “What about the rest of the family?”
“Samuel inherited the farm when their father died a couple years ago. The oldest girl...her name...I can’t remember it. Maybe Katie? Anyway, she married a man from Berlin, Ohio. We haven’t seen her since then. The next girl is Annie. She married a Beachey from Eden Township, the oldest son of their deacon. I go to quilting with her every other Thursday, and she has a sweet little boy.”
Sadie’s voice trailed off, smiling as she watched the roadside pass by.
“And the rest?”
“You’ve met them. Esther and Judith. They keep house for Samuel and have since Annie got married.” She brushed at some dust on her apron. “I’ve tried to help those girls once they were on their own after their older sisters left home. I don’t know how much they remember about their mother, but they were quite young when she died.”
“What kind of help?” Ida Mae asked.
“We made soap together last winter, but I’ve also been longing to help them with their sewing. You’ve seen how worn their clothes are. They haven’t made new ones for a couple years, and I don’t think Katie or Annie taught them to sew. If we had fabric, we could have a sewing frolic, just the five of us.”
Mary glanced at the smile on Sadie’s face. “I think you would have a thing or two to teach us, too. We should invite them over.”
“If they have time. They keep themselves at home most days. Our Wednesday quiltings are about the only time they get to be social with the rest of the women of the district.”
“Maybe if we tell Samuel that we’ll make new shirts and trousers for him, he’ll like the idea.”
“Ja, for sure.” Aunt Sadie’s chin rose and fell. “I’ll talk to Samuel when he comes