Holding a Tender Heart (19 page)

What did they mean about Paul Wagler?
Debbie wondered.
Who was he?
She didn't dare ask. He seemed quite handsome and dashing in the brief glimpse she'd gotten. Wouldn't any Amish girl be honored to have him pursue her? But that apparently wasn't the case with Lois. Was he a flirt? Or too full of himself? The Amish made big issues out of such things. Now the sound of the buggy behind them was getting louder, pulling Debbie from her thoughts. But the driver didn't attempt to pass them. Lois had let out the reins, and Buttercup was now clipping along at a faster pace. Lois must not want another buggy to whirl past them.

“Do you think Joe will get over his hurt before long?” Lois asked, giving Verna a quick sideways glance.

Debbie watched for Verna's response. Lois wasn't normally this sympathetic to her elder sister's troubles, but this one had the whole family concerned. Debbie had heard their whispers at odd moments during the evening hours. She also saw it in their glances at each other whenever Verna's face clouded over—which was often, it seemed. The problem of Joe wore heavily on all of them. Even the bishop had concern written on his face when a conversation near him broached the subject.

“I wish I knew.”

Debbie thought Verna's voice sounded weary.

“But let's talk of something a little more cheerful, shall we?” Verna continued. “Debbie's coming to church for the first time. That will be quite a happy experience, I hope.”

“I went over everything with her last night,” Lois said, acting as if Debbie weren't sitting beside her in the buggy. “She's ready for all eventualities.”

Verna appeared amused. “Did Debbie teach you that big word?”

Lois sputtered, “I learned that word listening to the
Englisha
talk
at the health-food store, mind you. And there's nothing wrong with that. They talk so much more educated than we do.”

“Don't start on that this morning,” Verna begged. “At least appreciate what you have. Take some examples from Debbie and how she acts.”

“Oh, she understands me.” Lois tossed her head so her bonnet shifted sideways. With one hand, she straightened it.

“I'm used to Lois's feelings, Verna,” Debbie said, interrupting their conversation. “And I do understand, I guess. I come from that world, and there are exciting things out there. But I like this simple life much better.”

“See!” Verna sounded triumphant. “Debbie has much to say that you could learn.”

Lois didn't answer. She stared straight ahead.

“She's not angry,” Verna assured Debbie when Debbie glanced her way. “Lois doesn't like being reminded of the decent heritage she has.”

Debbie settled back into the buggy seat. The last thing she wished this morning was to make an issue out of her
Englisha
ways. Lois was peeved regardless of what Verna thought. Maybe if Debbie maintained her cheerfulness, Lois would get over her hurt feelings. “All I can say is that I'm happy to be here,” Debbie stated. “And I'm sure Lois finds much to appreciate with this wonderful life, don't you, Lois?”

“I like that you're here.”

Lois didn't sound too mollified.

Debbie noticed a smile flit across Verna's face as they drove on. Lois said nothing more, but her fascination with the
Englisha
world was tempered for the moment. At least Lois hadn't followed through on her threat to attend college this fall. And perhaps Debbie had played a small part in this change of mind. If she had, she was thankful. She was sure Lois wouldn't find the
Englisha
world as fascinating as she thought she would.

Debbie pulled the buggy blanket tighter and lowered her head.
Her face was turning colder by the minute. Her heart, though, was pounding faster the closer they came to the meeting place. She was going to see Alvin Knepp today, and he would see her in an Amish dress. What would he think of her? Would he think of her at all? Yes, he surely would! Hopefully, he was developing an interest in her. Even Bishop Beiler's eyebrows had been raised yesterday when Alvin drove in their lane again…to borrow a bag of oats, he said.

“It's becoming quite a habit of the boy to stop by here on Saturday mornings,” Saloma had commented when the bishop had come in after Alvin left.

Bishop Beiler had nodded. “
Yah
, it does seem a bit strange.” He'd stroked his beard and puzzled over the matter. “There's no reason for them to run out of oats this early in the spring.”

“Maybe he wishes to take the place of Deacon Mast,” Lois teased.

Everyone laughed except Debbie. She wasn't quite sure what the joke meant. Apparently Deacon Mast's duties weren't considered the pleasant sort.

A twinge of guilt plucked at her heart, but Debbie pushed it away. She'd not been dishonest by keeping her silence. If it had occurred to one of the Beilers to ask her about Alvin, she would have admitted that he fascinated her. But Alvin wasn't her motivation to attend church, Debbie reminded herself. She'd wanted to attend the Amish church the first chance she had, so she'd asked. From there—once she had Bishop Beiler's approval—all it had taken was a quick trip down to her parents' place to let them know she wouldn't be attending church with them in the morning.

Her mom had appeared resigned before the words were out of her daughter's mouth. It was as if her mother had expected such news. Her dad, on the other hand, had seemed pleased. “I wish you the best, Debbie, whatever this adventure of yours is all about. I don't understand it, and neither does your mother. But we've always believed in supporting you when you've really wanted something. And this you seem to want.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Debbie had responded.

The blessing of Dad's approval was wonderful, Debbie thought as she watched the road ahead of her. The well-kept, white farmhouse of Henry Yoder came into view. Lois had told her last night that this was where church would be held today. Debbie had gone silent for a moment before saying, “But isn't that the man you told me about? The one who made a church confession the other Sunday, along with Joe Weaver?”

“
Yah
, the very one,” Lois had said.

“But isn't he still angry?” Debbie had wondered.

“He's supposed to be humbled,” Lois had told her. “But I doubt it. Still, there's no reason we can't have church at his place. Anyway, these things are scheduled a year or so ahead. They can be changed only under the direst of situations.”

All of this intrigue fascinated Debbie. She'd grown up around the Amish, and yet she knew so little about them and their traditions. Only after Bishop Beiler had opened his home to her had she been allowed to see the inside workings of the community. What a blessing that was! And she was most thankful. What if Bishop Beiler hadn't allowed her to stay? Debbie winced at the thought. She wouldn't be on her way to the services this morning with Verna and Lois, for one thing. “Thank you, Lord, for watching over me,” Debbie prayed silently as Lois guided Buttercup down the Yoder driveway. Their buggy bounced toward the line of several other buggies that had stopped at the end of the sidewalk where shawl-draped women climbed out, taking their time as they extracted smaller children from the backseats.

Verna gave a little wave as they went past and whispered to Lois, “Slow down. You don't have to make such a grand entrance.”

“I'm showing off my visitor!” Lois pulled Buttercup to a stop beside a line of parked buggies.

She was doing nothing of the kind, Debbie thought as she watched the line of men standing near the barn who were now
looking their way. Lois wanted attention for herself, even if she had no plans to stay Amish.

“Now you have Paul coming toward us,” Verna hissed as they climbed out of the buggy.

Lois made a face. “I do declare he's got his eye on you, Verna.”

“He does not!” Verna retorted.

“Then who else is he looking for?” Lois shot back.

Verna colored slightly but had recovered by the time Paul arrived.

Lois cooed, “If it isn't Mr. Charming himself. I didn't think you stooped to helping poor girls unhitch.”

Paul laughed. “I do declare it's the bishop's daughters themselves. And who is this charming visitor who graces your buggy this morning?”

Debbie turned to face the full force of this man's charm, of which he had plenty, she had to admit. “I would be Debbie Watson, an outside girl,” she told him, giving a quick nod of her head. “And I'm staying at the Beilers.”

“
Yah
, we've all heard about the pretty
Englisha
girl living at the Beilers,” he said, his grin broadening. “But why are you in…well…Amish clothing?” As he talked, he was undoing the tugs on their buggy.

“Leave her alone!” Lois snapped. “She's not for you.”

“Mind your own business.” Paul dismissed Lois with a wave of his hand.

Debbie glared at him. It was time she changed her tactic. “Maybe I misspoke. I really meant to say that I'm a visiting
Amish
girl.”

Paul laughed. “You can't fool me. I suppose you speak Dutch then?”

“Okay, so I'm
Englisha
,” Debbie pronounced the German word with care. “Now are you happy?”

“
Yah
, I am. And I hope you feel welcome,” Paul said, still grinning. “At least I'm doing my part to welcome you by coming out to help unhitch.”

“Glad to hear you're
gut
for something,” Lois said, sinking in her barb as she handed him the tie rope.

Paul ignored Lois as he clipped on the tie rope and led Buttercup toward the barn.

“I think you blew our young charmer off his feet,” Verna whispered to Debbie as the three girls headed toward the house.

“I didn't intend to,” Debbie whispered back.

Lois said out of the corner of her mouth, “I think our Paul's taken quite a shine to you.”

Seventeen

S
ome fifty minutes later Debbie sat on a hard, backless bench inside Henry Yoder's house trying to hold still. The service had begun less than an hour ago, but already it felt longer. It wasn't like she hadn't been warned last night about the discomforts of an Amish church service. Lois had made that clear in her description of the three-hour service that went from nine to twelve.

“And doesn't get out one minute before that,” Lois had told her with a grim look. And then Lois had asked, “How long do your church services last?”

“It varies,” Debbie had mumbled, but Lois hadn't looked convinced. Clearly Lois thought
Englisha
church services lasted a matter of minutes. Which wasn't true, but at least they did sit on padded pews.

Debbie shifted in her seat between Lois and Verna. Ida sat a few girls down and gave her a smile when she glanced that way. Debbie smiled back but jumped when another song number was hollered out from the other side of the room. That was one thing Lois had failed to mention, but she probably hadn't considered the loud announcement of each song number a thing worthy of report. It was amazing what one became used to—if one were raised with it.

There were also other things she would have to get used to, like
the unmarried boys with their smooth chins who sat across the room in long rows. Behind them sat the married men with bearded faces, most of whom made only brief eye contact with her. She was obviously the new girl this morning, and both the married and unmarried males were curious. Most, though, lost interest after the first minutes—except Paul Wagler.

For someone with a reputation as a tease, Paul appeared serious enough. He'd gaze at her intently for long moments, obviously mesmerized with her every move. This she wasn't used to. And it was something Lois hadn't mentioned. How could she? Clearly no one had anticipated that Paul would be so smitten with her. Thankfully, Verna claimed Paul got over girls quickly, so surely she wouldn't have to endure this for more than a few Sundays. As her new person allure wore off, everyone—Paul included—would leave her in peace.

They'd have to, Debbie told herself, because she did want to continue her Amish church attendance. If there had been any doubt in her mind, it had been dispensed with already. The singing had done that. It was magnificent. The sound rose and fell like she imagined the chants of medieval monks did. She'd never heard anything quite like this before. Here a whole group of people—male and female—sang in unison without accompaniment.