The Amish Spinster's Courtship. Emma Miller
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and enjoy myself for a few years. When I marry, it will be for life. Plenty of time to be serious then.”
“Mam thinks I should be looking for a husband,” Lovage mused. “Just last night when we were getting ready for bed, she reminded me that I have a birthday coming up.”
“You’ve got time. Twenty-five isn’t old age.” Ginger stood and perched on the edge of the worktable, crossing her legs at the knee and swinging a slim, bare foot. “And the sooner you marry, the sooner Mam will start thinking it’s time for Bay and me to make a match. And, like I told you, neither of us is in a hurry.”
“Goot. We agree on something.”
“But...” Ginger chuckled and shook her head. “Since you brought up the subject, I may as well have my say as chew on it like an old cow’s cud.”
“Say it then,” Lovage replied. “You know you will, anyway.”
“Okay, so maybe...” Ginger leaned forward and looked her straight in the eye. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so stubborn, and listen to someone once in a while. You know I love you more than gingerbread, and I only want what’s best for you.”
Lovage grimaced. “All right, all right. Say it and get it over with.”
“I’ve been talking to Bay and we agree. Our advice to you as the new girl is to make friends and go to the singings and the ball games and the frolics. Enjoy yourself before you settle down with a husband and babies. I’m going to the softball game. I think we all are. You should come with us. You’re a mean catcher, and we need one. Most of the girls are afraid of the ball.”
Lovage suddenly felt nervous. “What if this Marshall pesters me to ride home with him?”
Ginger shrugged. “I doubt he will.” She broke into a sassy grin. “Not when I give him my best smile.”
Lovage sighed and glanced away. A part of her wanted to go to the softball game, but this thing with Marshall suddenly seemed like so much pressure. “But what if he does?”
“Then you should go ride home with him. Like I said, you’re not his type, but it might be a good way to meet other boys. To be friendly with Marshall. He knows everyone in the county.”
Lovage crossed her arms over her chest. A part of her wanted to tell Marshall she’d ride home with him, just to prove to Ginger that she could be fun.
“Come on. I dare you to do it.” Still grinning, Ginger poked Lovage in the arm with her finger. “Tell you what, sister. If you ride home from the softball game with Marshall Byler Saturday night, I’ll take your turn at washing dishes for a whole week.”
Lovage knelt on a carpet of thick moss and pulled up a few dandelions that were sprouting up beside the fish pond. “Your herb beds are coming along beautifully, Mam. I didn’t think you’d be this far along with them.” She dropped the dandelions into a bucket with the few weeds she’d already pulled. “And the waterfall is perfect for this spot. I love the sound of the water. It’s so relaxing.”
Her mother placed freshly cut sprigs of lavender in a basket and rested her large, dirt-streaked hands on her hips. “I’m so glad you’re finally here, Lovey. I’ve missed you so much. No one appreciates my garden like you do.” She studied the twenty-foot, oblong pond with its bubbling cascade, miniature lily pads, cattails and decorative rock border, and smiled. “I wish I could take credit for this, but I can’t. The pond, the Irish moss and the wrought-iron bench were already here when Benjamin brought me to look at the farm. When I walked through that gate and saw this herb garden and the flowing water, I fell in love with the place. I told him that this was the one before I even set foot in the house.”
Lovage stood up and brushed the soil off her apron. She was barefoot, as was her mother, and both wore midcalf-length dresses, oversize aprons with large pockets and wide-brimmed straw bonnets over their prayer kapps.
Lovage was pleased that she and her mother had found a few minutes to be alone, even if it was to work in the garden. As the firstborn, she and her mam had always been close, and had become more so after her mother had been widowed three years ago. Lovage had missed her mother dearly in the time they’d been apart. She’d always considered her mother her best friend, so this morning was doubly precious.
When her mother married their late father’s best friend the previous year, Lovage had remained behind in New York when her mam and her new husband, Benjamin, and all their children, had made the move to Delaware. Lovage had four sisters and a brother, and Benjamin had five sons still at home, so it had been quite an effort to move them all. While the family got settled in Delaware, their mother had entrusted her with the responsibility of selling the livestock and the farm equipment, as well as disposing of the household goods.
Blending two large families and two homes into one wasn’t done easily or quickly, and the couple had decided that a new start, a new home and a new community would give them the greatest opportunity for success. Lovage was glad to remain behind to help her mother in whatever way she could, but she’d missed the bustle of her large family and was glad when the last of the decisions were made, the final shipment of household goods was on its way to Delaware, and she was free to come.
“Smell this lavender,” her mother said, bringing her back into the present. “And see how the thyme is growing. I was afraid that it wouldn’t. But there’s more rainfall here than back home, and the pond helps. There’s a good market for dried lavender, for sachets and hanging arrangements.”
“The soil seems free of rocks,” Lovage observed.
Her mother laughed. “No rocks in Delaware. At least not down here. Benjamin says it gets a little rocky upstate near the Pennsylvania state line. This whole garden used to be fenced in for the dairy cows. I wouldn’t be surprised if my hoe took root and blossomed.”
“The cows had a pond and wrought-iron bench? I’m confused.”
“For years it was a cow pasture and then, when the English farmer retired, his wife wanted a pretty pond and an herb and flower garden. You can see someone loved and tended it. Either that or the cows wanted somewhere nice to sit.”
Lovage laughed, picturing a cow sitting on the iron bench with a gardening trowel between her hooves. “I can see that this is a wonderful spot for you. But you inherited Grossmama’s green thumb. Any plant will grow for you.”
“And you have the gift, too,” her mam replied. “It’s a true blessing.”
Lovage clasped both of her mother’s strong hands and led her to the wide iron bench with the high back and the grapevine pattern. A grape arbor arched overhead with spreading leaves and tiny green concord grapes, providing relief from the hot July sun, something they both could relish. “Sit with me,” she urged. “You’ve been on your feet since before six this morning.”
Her mother’s smile lit her green eyes. “And that’s different from every other morning in what way, dochtah?”
“It isn’t. That’s the thing. You shouldn’t have to get up so early. You have Ginger and Bay and the younger girls to help you with breakfast and the chores. And now me. I want you to take better care of yourself.”
“It’s a wonder how I managed before you got here, my love.”
“Be serious.” She caught her mother’s hand again and clasped it with affection, taking in the broken fingernails and calluses. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Lovage thought with a glance at her own hands. Too bad she didn’t inherit Mam’s sunny disposition and lovely features instead of taking after her father.
She looked into her mother’s smiling face and tried to reason with her. “You have to let us help you, especially now with all these extra boys in the house. Boys