“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