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 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
