Their Pretend Amish Courtship. Patricia Davids
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Could she leave behind all she had been raised to believe in? She wasn’t ready to make that decision. Not yet.
“I think the team will do fine,” Connie said, but she didn’t sound sure.
Fannie pushed her uncertainty aside to concentrate on her friend. “I wanted to do this for you. I owe you so much.”
Connie continued to brush her horse. “You have to get over thinking I did something special, Fannie. I didn’t.”
“You kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life. That was something special.”
“It was your love of horses that led you to make the right decision. I only wish those other young people had made the same choice.”
“So do I.” Fannie cringed inwardly as she thought about the night that had ended so tragically less than two months after her seventeenth birthday.
“Have you settled on the number of patterns the girls will perform?” Connie clearly wanted to change the subject, and Fannie let her.
“Not yet, but I will before I leave. Have you had any inquiries from the ad you ran on the Horse and Tack website?”
“Lowball bids, nothing serious. Maybe I’m just a poor marketer. These horses should sell themselves. If I had the money, I’d have a professional video made. That might do the trick.”
“My father says the Englisch want an angle, a story. A good horse for sale isn’t enough. It has to be an Amish-raised and Amish-trained horse. That’s okay for him, but it doesn’t help you.”
“I can always say raised near the Amish and trained as the Amish would, but that lacks punch even if it is accurate.”
Fannie shook her head and realized her kapp was missing. Mamm would be upset with her for losing another one. She pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket. She always carried two for just this reason. She folded it into a triangle and tied it at the nape of her neck.
A woman should cover her head when she prayed, and Fannie was in serious need of prayers. She couldn’t believe it was part of God’s plan for her to abandon her friend and to leave her beloved horses behind. “It amazes me how the Englisch think anything Amish must be better. We are the same as everyone else.”
“You’re right. There are good, hardworking people everywhere. If only hard work were enough to keep this place going. I’m glad my father isn’t here to see how I’ve run it into the ground.”
“You took care of your father as well as any daughter could. It wasn’t possible to grow the business while he was so ill. You had a mountain of your father’s medical bills to pay and you have done that. You will get this place back to the way it was and even better.”
Fannie followed Connie’s gaze as she glanced around the farm. Only four of the twelve stalls in the long, narrow barn were being used by boarders. The barn was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. The red paint was faded and peeling in places. Cobwebs hung from the rafters. A soggy spot at the end of the alley showed where the roof leaked, but all the Haflinger horses in the paddock and pasture were well cared for, with shining coats that gleamed golden brown in the sunshine. Connie took excellent care of her animals.
Attached to the barn was an indoor riding area where Connie’s nine-year-old daughter, Zoe, was practicing her trick-riding moves on her Haflinger mare. Connie had once crisscrossed the United States performing at rodeos and equestrian events as a trick rider herself. She paused in her work to watch her daughter.
“I have got to make a go here, Fannie. I have to leave my daughter something besides tarnished belt buckles, fading ribbons and debts. I don’t want to sell any of this land. My father made me promise that I wouldn’t and I want to honor his wishes. After I’m gone, Zoe will be free to sell or stay. That will be my gift to her. A woman should be able to choose her own path in life.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
Connie shot her a puzzled glance. “Strange words coming from an Amish lass. I thought an Amish woman’s goal in life was to be a wife and a mother.”
“It is for most of the women, but I can’t imagine being so tied down. I certainly don’t want to marry and give some oaf the right to boss me around.” To give up riding horses was like asking her to give up part of her soul.
“Does that mean you are thinking about leaving the Amish? I know some young people do, but won’t you be shunned if you decide to leave?”
“My church believes each person must make that choice. If I leave before I am baptized into the faith, I won’t be punished, but I know my parents won’t allow me to continue staying at home. If I do decide not to be baptized, I was hoping I could work for you full-time and get my own place someday.”
“If your plan with the drill team works out, I sure would consider taking you on full-time. I’ve never seen anyone as good with horses as you are. But don’t give up on the idea of marriage. I can’t see you settling for an oaf. It will take a special fellow to get harnessed to you, but I think he exists and I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I don’t think he exists and I’m sure not going to waste my time looking for him.”
“If I’d had that attitude before I met Zack, I wouldn’t have Zoe now. It was a fair trade. Look at that girl go. She is fearless.” Maternal pride glowed on her face as she watched her daughter circling the arena on her horse.
“She’s really getting good,” Fannie said. Trick riding was something she had always wanted to try.
“Better than I was at her age. I shouldn’t encourage her, but I can’t help it. The girl is like a sponge. She soaks in everything I tell her. I guess I’m one of those mothers who relive their glory days through their kids.”
“Do you miss it?”
Connie paused in her work. “Sometimes I do, but that life is behind me along with my failed marriage to Zoe’s father. Dad’s illness was the excuse I used to come home, but that wasn’t the whole truth. I missed staying in one place. Zack was the one with a restless spirit. Besides, I didn’t want Zoe to grow up in a camper, always headed down the road to the next rodeo. I wanted her to have a home—a real home—and Dad gave us that.”
She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Point your toes down, Zoe. Keep those legs straight and arch your back more.”
“Like this?” Zoe shouted.
“That’s better. That’s a pretty good hippodrome stand.”
Zoe grinned and waved one hand in acknowledgment as she stood atop the back of a gently loping golden horse with a wide white blaze down its face.
“Zoe is going to miss you,” Connie said, turning back to Fannie.
“Don’t give up on me yet. I may still find a way to stay.” Fannie had no idea what that would be, but she wouldn’t stop trying.
Connie put down her brush and motioned toward a pitchfork leaning against the wall. “Good. Until then, you still have work to do. I don’t pay you much, but I expect you to earn it.”
Fannie