Amish Generations Read online

  “You’ve got a point.” He paused. “And now you’re interested in Fern.”

  “Like I said, I may be interested in her.” But there really wasn’t any maybe about it.

  “Look, if you like her, ask her out on a date. You’re twenty-four years old, and it’s not like you’ve never gone on a date before.”

  But this was different. Still, his brother was right. When Dan wanted something, he went after it. And there was no more hemming and hawing about it. He wanted a date with Fern.

  Alvin clapped him on the back. “Now, are we going to keep talking like a couple of hens? Or are we going to get back to work?”

  Dan nodded, then lifted a small torch from the bottom shelf along with a pair of safety glasses. He put on the glasses, then lowered himself under the chassis again. First he’d oil the nut, then carefully apply low heat, which would take care of the rust. He had to force himself to focus on the task, though. As a blacksmith, he was used to being around fire and keeping his mind free of distractions. Right now, Fern was a big distraction. But the next time he saw her, he would ask her out on a date.

  * * *

  “Bat,” Johnnie said, bending his elbow and leaning the side of his head against his palm.

  Fern nodded, then showed him another vocabulary card.

  “Cat.” He yawned. “I know all these, Fern.”

  “Then we should get through them quickly.” She flipped over another card.

  “Rat. Mat. Pat.” His shoulders slumped. “How long do we have to do this?”

  She had anticipated his reluctance. After she’d come home from Clara’s, she’d taken some of her mother’s blank recipe cards—with her permission, of course—and made two sets of flashcards. She pulled the second set out of her tote bag and shuffled both stacks. Then she started laying the cards facedown on the table. The word recipe was at the top corner of each card, along with seven thin red lines.

  Johnnie perked up a bit. “What are you doing?”

  “Putting cards on the table.” She hummed as she finished arranging them in a set of six down and six across. Then she looked at him. “Have you ever played concentration?”

  He shook his head. “What is it?”

  “A fun game.” She turned over one of the cards. “What does this say?”

  “Cat.”

  “Right. Now you have to find the matching word and read both of them out loud. But you only get one chance per turn to find the other word.”

  “Oh, I’ve played this, only with pictures.” He started to turn over a card.

  “Wait. Close yer eyes. Nee peeking.” While he closed his eyes tightly and put his hands over them, she shuffled the cat card back into the group. “Now it’s yer turn.”

  He quickly turned over a card. “Bat.” He frowned. “Can I have another turn?”

  “Not yet. Now it’s mei turn.” She turned a card over, and they continued to play the game until all the pairs were matched. Johnnie had won by one pair, and he had read all the words correctly. Maybe she had started too easily with him, but he did enjoy the game. She would have to put some harder words in the deck next time. She made a note to go to a discount store in New Philadelphia to purchase some index cards and other teaching materials.

  They worked on the reading schoolwork he didn’t complete in class for the next fifteen minutes, and she realized she wasn’t going to keep Johnnie’s attention much longer than that. When he finished the assignment, she said they were done for the day. He ran off as Iva came into the kitchen. “How did it geh?”

  “Gut. He doesn’t like sitting still. I think that’s his biggest problem.”

  She sighed. “I know. Alvin and I have talked to him about that, but what we say doesn’t seem to be getting through. He’s just like his father.” She smiled. “Which means he’ll be a fine mann when he grows up . . . if I live through his childhood.”

  Fern laughed and put the cards into her tote bag. “I’ll be back next Monday.”

  “That sounds gut. We’d like you to stay for supper again.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t today. I will next week, though.”

  Iva nodded. “We’ll plan on it.”

  Fern said good-bye to Iva, then left through the front door of the Kline house. She saw a familiar buggy in the driveway and realized it was Dan’s. She hadn’t known he was going to be here. She guessed he was working in the shop with Alvin. Iva had mentioned something about a new car project, but Fern had been only half listening as she tried to get Johnnie settled in his seat. She paused, looking at the shop, which was behind the house and to the side, where she could see it from the driveway. She wished she had an excuse to see Dan, but anything she came up with seemed too obvious. Instead, she turned and started for home.

  “Fern?”

  She spun around at the sound of Dan calling her name. Surprised, she waited as he jogged toward her. “Hey,” he said, wiping his hands on an old rag before he shoved it behind his back. “Alvin and I are fixing up a Stanley Steamer,” he said, a little sheepishly. “Messy work right now, tearing it apart.”

  “What’s a Steamer?”

  “A very, very, very old car. This one doesn’t even have a steering wheel.” He shrugged. “I know you don’t want to hear about that, though.”

  “Actually, it sounds interesting.”

  His brow lifted. “Really? We can show it to you when it’s finished. Right now, it’s just a bunch of metal and nuts and bolts. Oh, and some really dirty upholstery.”

  “I’d like to see it.” She stood there for a moment, suspecting he wanted to say something else. When he didn’t speak, she said, “I better geh home. It’s mei turn to cook supper tonight.”

  “I won’t keep you, then.” When she started to leave, he said, “Fern, wait. I want to ask you something.”

  She froze as she met his gaze. Keep calm. It’s not like he’s going to ask you out on a date.

  “Would you like to geh sledding with me Saturday afternoon?”

  Chapter 4

  Fern’s jaw dropped. “Sledding?”

  “Ya. Work gets slow during the winter, and I’m usually finished by lunchtime.” He kicked at the snow with the toe of his boot, then looked at her again. “I haven’t been sledding in a while, and I wondered if you’d like to come with me.”

  “I, uh . . .” She didn’t know what to say. Did he mean with him, alone? Or with him and other friends? Would it be rude to ask?

  “If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” He took a step back. “In fact, you can forget I mentioned it.”

  “Dan . . .” She should say no. She hadn’t been sledding in years, and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to. And if she had a flare that day, she’d have to cancel without giving him the real reason, and that would be not only rude but a lie.

  “I guess it was a silly idea.” He gave her a little wave and started to turn around. “I’ll see you later.”

  What am I doing? She was actually considering turning him down. After eleven years of waiting for this moment, she was hesitating. She could hear Clara’s voice in her head. Don’t be an idiot. If you give up this chance, it won’t come again.

  “Wait,” she said, stepping toward him. When he faced her again, she said, “I’d like to geh. It sounds like fun.”

  Dan grinned, and she almost dissolved into a giddy puddle on the driveway. His face lit up like a kid’s at Christmas, and she was so thankful that she hadn’t gone with her gut instinct and turned him down.

  “I’ll pick you up at one,” he said, still smiling.

  “Mei sled and I will be ready.” She didn’t have a sled, but her father still had one she and her siblings used when they were children. She was sure he wouldn’t mind her using it.

  He nodded, the grin still on his handsome face, then he turned and hurried back to the buggy shop.

  Fern grasped her tote bag and squealed into the handles. Even if this wasn’t a date and every single unattached person would be sledding with her and Dan,
she didn’t care. She would also put the worry about having a flare out of her mind. Dan had asked her out, and she was determined to savor that fact.

  * * *

  Dan couldn’t help but whistle as he drove to Fern’s house on Saturday afternoon. When he’d glanced out the shop window the other day and seen her leaving the house, he jumped into action. Sledding had been the first thing to pop into his mind, weirdly enough. He’d never been sledding with Miriam, who would have scoffed at the idea anyway. Miriam liked quiet activities, like reading and doing jigsaw puzzles. Nothing wrong with that, but he hadn’t been ready to act like an old married couple right off the bat.

  When he saw the excitement in Fern’s eyes when she said she wanted to go sledding, he knew he’d suggested the right activity. In school, their teacher had occasionally let them sled at recess, and he remembered how much Fern had seemed to enjoy it.

  Although there was that moment when he thought she was going to turn him down. She wouldn’t have been the first woman to turn him down for a date, but the idea disappointed him more than he thought possible.

  He pulled into her driveway. It had snowed again last night—two inches or so on top of the few inches that had already been on the ground—but it was cold, and the snow would pack easily. That made for good sledding down the steep hill close to the school, and he was determined to make sure they both had a fun time today.

  When he knocked on the front door, first noticing a sled leaning against a pole on the porch, he expected one of her parents to answer. Instead, Fern came right out, bundled in her coat, bonnet, a heavy scarf, and snow pants and boots. She was carrying a thermos and a small canvas tote bag. “I hope you like hot chocolate. I also brought a couple of sandwiches.”

  “Perfect.” He was also thinking about how perfect Fern was. Her cheeks and nose were instantly rosy from the cold, and she gave him a shy smile that reached clear to his heart.

  He picked up the sled for her, then they walked to the buggy, and he noticed she climbed inside without any problem. She even seemed to have a pep in her step she didn’t have last week. I’ll take that as a good sign.

  He handed her the same thick blanket, and she put it on her lap. So far, so good. But as he drove to the hill, he suddenly clammed up. He was rarely at a loss for words, but right now his mind was blank. His palms started to sweat, and he took off his gloves and gripped the reins. Finally, he asked, “Have you ever thought about becoming a schoolteacher?”

  Fern paused, then said, “Why are you asking me that?”

  He cringed. Maybe the question was too personal. “Alvin mentioned that Iva noticed how gut you were with Johnnie during yer tutoring session. She said you seemed like a real teacher.”

  “I thought about it,” she said softly. “But then I realized it wasn’t for me.” Quickly, she asked, “How is work on the car going?”

  “Pretty gut.” Since she seemed a little touchy about the teaching subject, he was glad for the change of topic. He told her they had removed the chassis, and he thought he would be able to save the entire metal mechanism. “I wasn’t sure at first, once I got into the project. But I think we’ll make the deadline.”

  “That’s gut.” She paused. “Why do they call it a Stanley Steamer?”

  “The company that produced the car was started by twin brothers whose last name was Stanley. Steamers were cars that ran on steam. There’s a boiler under the seat that’s fueled by gas or kerosene, depending on the model. Alvin knows all about how that works. He brought me on board to help with the bodywork.”

  “Do you enjoy doing that?”

  “Sometimes. I wasn’t interested in making and repairing buggies. I liked blacksmithing better, so I decided to start mei own business. Still, Alvin and Daed ask me to help them with a project every once in a while—usually bodywork. Alvin’s the mechanic in the family.” He pulled the buggy to a halt. “We’re here,” he said, glancing at her, more relaxed now that she had started a conversation. “Ready to sled?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Ya,” she said. “I can’t wait.”

  * * *

  Fern tried to control the swirling in her stomach. The butterflies were out of control, and for good reason. She could sit there and gaze at Dan all day long. But she was also excited about sledding. When she woke up this morning, she felt better than she had in weeks. She not only had the will but also the energy to enjoy herself.

  Leaving the hot chocolate and sandwiches in the buggy for later, she got out. Dan had tied his horse to one of the hitching posts in the school parking lot, and he was putting a horse blanket over him so he wouldn’t get too cold. Then he pulled out both of their sleds, which he had managed to fit behind the buggy seat. Fern glanced around. No one else was in sight, and the hill was white and pristine. She turned to Dan. “Are we the only ones here?”

  He stilled, looking unsure. “Ya. Were you expecting anyone else?”

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if this was a group gathering or not.”

  “Oh. It’s not.” He looked into her eyes. “It’s just me and you. Is that all right?”

  More than all right. She nodded, trying not to appear too eager. But inside she was thrilled.

  They walked to the top of the hill, which was a few feet from where he’d parked the buggy. Then he put his sled down on the edge of the precipice. A light snow had started to fall, and he motioned to her. “Ladies first,” he said.

  She placed her sled next to his. She didn’t know how to steer the sled with her feet, so she lay on her stomach on top of it. He did the same on his sled, and she turned to him. “Race you down the hill?”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” He put his hands on both sides of the rod that steered his sled. “One . . .”

  “Two . . .” she said.

  “Three!” they shouted together.

  Fern pushed off with the toe of her snow boot, and soon she was speeding down the hill. The sled moved faster than she remembered as a kid, and she fought to steer. Dan was way ahead of her, but she barely noticed as she heard a cracking noise coming from the front of her sled. The wood gave way and split into pieces, sending her skidding down the hill.

  Chapter 5

  Dan was just getting up off his sled when he heard the cracking noise behind him. He spun around and watched in horror as Fern’s sled broke apart and she went flying wildly down the rest of the hill, coming to a stop in a lump several yards away. “Fern!” He ran over and knelt in the snow next to her, his heart pounding.

  She turned over slowly, looking up at him, bits of snow covering her face. Without thinking, he took off his glove and brushed the clumps of flakes off her cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asked in a breathless panic. “Can you move yer legs?”

  Fern nodded. “Just . . . got the wind . . . knocked out of me.”

  He blew out a relieved breath, and when she started to move, he instinctively put his arm around her shoulders and helped her sit up. “Are you sure that’s all?” He couldn’t believe she wasn’t more seriously injured after her petite body had flown around like that.

  She moved her legs and arms. “Ya,” she said. “I’m okay.” She looked around. “But mei poor sled. It’s in pieces everywhere.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” He turned her chin, so she was facing him, wanting to make sure she wasn’t just saying she was okay to reassure him. “All I care about is that you’re all right.”

  Fern blinked, her chestnut-colored eyes never leaving his face. “I’m okay, Dan. I really am.”

  He believed her, but he kept his arm around her. It wouldn’t take much effort to pull her into his lap and kiss her. But he didn’t. Something more intimate had formed between them, though. He felt it, and he saw a spark of attraction in her eyes. The fact that she wasn’t trying to get away from him or protesting that he was crossing the line also convinced him that she was interested in him. But he wouldn’t take advantage of any woman in this situation. Especially Fern.

  Dan moved his arm fr
om around her shoulders and got to his feet. He held out his hand, and she took it. After he helped her stand, she brushed the snow off her dress and pants. “I guess I better pick up what’s left of mei sled,” she said, sounding slightly breathless.

  “I’ll help.”

  They gathered the pieces and met back at the landing point at the bottom of the hill. “How old was this sled?” Dan asked, looking at the wood. He could see it was partly rotted, something he should have noticed when he picked it up at her house. But he’d been too busy paying attention to Fern.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It was mei Daed’s from when he was a kinn.” She frowned. “I hope he doesn’t get mad that it’s ruined.”

  “I think he’ll be glad you weren’t hurt.” He glanced at his sled. “We could take turns using mei sled, if you want.” The thought that maybe they could sled together—an idea that really, really appealed to him—ran past him, but he’d be asking for trouble by getting that close to her.

  She looked at the hill, this time a little less excited, then back at him. “Okay.”

  They sledded down the hill two more times, but he could tell she wasn’t as enthusiastic about it as she’d been at the beginning. When she walked back up the hill the third time, he noticed she was moving much slower than she had the first time they went down.

  “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m getting cold. Can we break open that hot chocolate now?”

  She nodded, and her eyes filled with what looked like relief. They made a beeline back to the buggy, and Dan took off Crabapple’s warming blanket and feed bag, then unhitched him. The horse needed to move around after standing in the cold, and they could sip hot chocolate and eat sandwiches while he sauntered toward Fern’s house.

  By the time he’d put his sled and what was left of hers behind the front seat, Fern was already in the buggy and had poured the hot chocolate into the lid of her thermos. He climbed in, and she handed him the drink. He took a sip. It was still nice and warm. “Appleditlich.”