Courting The Amish Nanny

The sound of a truck clattering up the gravel road jarred Levi from his thoughts. Signaling the driver, Scott, to stop, he crossed the lawn to the barn, which was located on the opposite side of his house from the daadi haus. Halfway in between his house and the barn was a small workshop. Last week he’d rearranged his tools and workbenches to create an area where Maria could make wreaths. Beginning the day after Thanksgiving, the workshop would also serve as a place for her to ring up sales when the farm opened to the public. But Levi didn’t expect Maria to arrive until nine o’clock, so he continued toward the barn, where he stored the portable baler, the machine used to shake the needles from the trees and the chain and handsaws.

By the time he and Scott loaded the equipment onto the truck bed, the rest of the crew had arrived. Levi spent the next couple of hours explaining the tagging system, showing the young men around the sixteen-acre farm, and demonstrating how to operate the machinery and palletize the trees for shipment, the way he’d learned from working at a tree farm the previous year. The guys groaned when he reminded them they were required to wear goggles and ear protection whenever they used the chain saws, so he delivered a stern lecture on injury prevention.

He intended to supervise their work until he was confident they knew what they were doing and would do it safely, but Walker Huyard, a young Amish man who was employed by a tree service company during the warmer months, pulled him aside. “A word to the wise is sufficient,” he said. “You’ve got an experienced crew here.”

“What do you mean?”

Walker returned his question with a question. “Does Colin Blank watch you like a hawk or nag you like a schoolmarm when you’re roofing for him?”

Levi got his point; on occasion Colin was overbearing, much to the consternation of his employees. Clapping Walker on the shoulder, he said, “You’re right. I’ll leave you guys to it. I’m going to take a break and I’ll be back by ten thirty—to help, not to harp on you.”

He returned to the house to discover the kitchen empty, but laughter spilled from the living room, where Elizabeth and David snuggled against Sadie on the sofa. They were so enraptured by whatever she was saying they didn’t immediately notice his arrival. I don’t know if the kinner could handle the upheaval of another nanny leaving. Especially not Sadie. More to the point, he had no idea who he’d get for a replacement.

Pausing silently at the threshold of the room, he studied her animated gestures; something about the artful way she moved her hands reminded him of Leora and he realized his wife had been Sadie’s age when her life was cut short.

Sadie suddenly noticed his presence. “Can I help you?” she asked dryly.

“Neh, I’m just checking up on you.” That sounded wrong. “I mean, checking in on you. To make sure there’s nothing you need, that is.”

“Denki, we’re all set.” Her tone remained politely formal.

“Sadie’s telling us stories about her brieder,” Elizabeth said.

“One time they used a pulley and a clothesline to fly from the loft of the barn to a tree on the other side of the fence!” David exclaimed.

“Her bruder Joseph got stuck halfway across and he was too scared to let go, so Sadie’s other brieder had to reel him back like a fish,” Elizabeth recited.

Despite his intention to smooth things over with Sadie, Levi had been cautioning his children for so long it was second nature to him to blurt out, “That sounds very dangerous. I imagine they gave Sadie’s mamm and daed a fright and they probably received a harsh punishment.”

“Neh, my eldre didn’t find out until afterward, when it was clear Joseph was okay. My daed was impressed by the ingenuity and durability of their invention. Besides, we positioned our trampoline near the end of the line so we could let go before we hit the tree. It was a lot safer than jumping out of the loft into a pile of straw the way we usually did,” Sadie said with a laugh.

“Her brieder were afraid to try it, but Sadie went first and then they all wanted a turn,” Elizabeth interjected.

Levi pointed his finger at his daughter. “If I ever saw you dangling from a rope in the air, I’d be very, very upset.” As Elizabeth’s expression changed from jubilant to ashamed, Levi realized how punitive he must have sounded, when what he meant to express was how disturbed he’d be if she was ever in such a dangerous position. Trying to assure his daughter she wasn’t being scolded, he said, “But I don’t have to worry about that because you’re not a tomboy.”

“Not yet, she isn’t,” Sadie countered. “She’s too young to determine what kind of personality or interests she’ll develop. But just because she’s a maedel doesn’t mean she shouldn’t run and climb and jump and explore the outdoors. Physical exercise is gut for children, both buwe and meed.”

As Sadie spoke, her eyes flashed a warning Levi was walking on thin ice. “I only meant it would have alarmed me if Elizabeth—or David, for that matter—had gotten stuck the way Joseph did. I didn’t mean there’s anything wrong with a girl being active,” he tried to explain. “My Leora was one of the most adventurous women I’ve ever known. I’ll be pleased if Elizabeth takes after her mamm in that way—but that’ll be when she’s older and can judge for herself whether or not a risk is worth taking. Until then, she needs the guidance of responsible adults.”

Sadie didn’t look at all appeased. She blinked twice before freeing her arms from the children’s grasp and standing up. “You mentioned how much work you have to get done today, so you probably want to return to it now. And I need to begin preparing lunch.”

I’m still on thin ice, Levi thought. Not wanting to push her, he figured he could go back to reminding the children about their safety rules tonight. Right now he sensed if he didn’t back off, Sadie would decide to pack her bags that evening. “Don’t worry about tidying the kitchen or making hot meals for lunch. Sandwiches are fine. The most important thing is the kinner are well cared for. And you’re right, a little exercise is gut for them. If the rain lets up, maybe you can take them for a walk to the barn and back.”

Did he imagine it or did Sadie roll her eyes before glancing at David and Elizabeth and asking, “What do you think, kinner? Can you make it all the way to the barn and back?”

Unsure if she was teasing the children or taking a swipe at him, Levi joked, “If they can’t, I’ll swing by on the clothesline and pick them up.”

The children laughed, but Sadie’s expression remained unreadable. “I’ll see you at lunchtime, then,” he muttered awkwardly, exiting the house as quickly as his feet could carry him.

If Levi thought his comment about sandwiches being acceptable to him or his concession in allowing her to take the children outside was going to win Sadie over, he had another think coming. If the rain lets up? It’s barely drizzling, Sadie fumed as she squared the potatoes for stew. She’d never encountered an Amish father—especially one who lived on a farm—who didn’t fully expect his children to play and do their chores outside in weather far worse than this. Was this one of the differences between the Amish in Maine and the Amish in Pennsylvania, or was it simply one of Levi’s quirks?

And what exactly did he mean about Elizabeth not being a tomboy? Sadie resented the word that had often been used to describe her, too. Which wasn’t to say she didn’t relish being every bit as agile, strong and intrepid as her brothers. But like the word pal, the word tomboy had negative connotations when a man used it to describe a woman. To Sadie it indicated he thought she didn’t also have the feminine interests and qualities that men admired and appreciated in a woman.

She covered the pot and set it on the stove to simmer. “What do I care what Levi thinks of me as a woman anyway?” she muttered. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to stay there.

“Who are you talking to?” David was suddenly at her elbow.

“Oh, sometimes I think out loud,” she admitted. “So, what did you and your schweschder usually do with your groossmammi in the mornings once your chores were done?”

“Groossmammi read to us.”

“Or we played board games or colored,” Elizabeth piped up as she entered the room.

“I see,” Sadie said. She wondered whether their sedentary activities were because their grandmother had been ill and didn’t have a lot of energy, or because of Levi’s restrictions. “The sun is peeking out from the clouds, so let’s take that walk to the barn now.”

The children scurried to the mudroom, where Sadie helped them into their boots, coats, mittens and hats. As soon as they stepped outside, Elizabeth and David simultaneously slid their hands into Sadie’s. Although she was happy to receive the gesture as a sign of affection, she was surprised they didn’t want to run freely, the way most children did after being cooped indoors for any length of time.

“Let’s make a dash for it!” she urged and began sprinting across the yard toward the barn. But the children couldn’t keep up and she didn’t want to tug too hard on their arms, so she slowed to a casual stroll. As they approached the workshop she noticed a lamp burning and asked the children if they thought their father was inside. If I see him again right now, I might not be able to censor myself.

David answered, “Neh, that’s where Maria Beiler makes wreaths.”

Another woman to talk to; that was just what Sadie needed at the moment to take the edge off her unpleasant interaction with Levi. “Let’s stop in and say hello.” As soon as she opened the door, the scent of balsam filled her nostrils.

“What a wunderbaar surprise—wilkom!” Maria greeted them. “Would you like a demonstration of my one-woman wreath-making workshop in action?”

She proceeded to show them how she collected boughs from the bin the crew had filled outside the door. Then she cut the trimmings into a suitable size and arranged them neatly around a specially designed wire ring. Using a foot-pedaled machine, she clamped the prongs on the ring, securing the boughs into place. Finally, she fastened a bright red or gold ribbon on the wreath and then carefully hung it from a peg on a large portable rack.

“As you can see, I’m running out of bows,” she said. “I like to make them at home ahead of time but since yesterday was the Sabbath, I’m falling behind.”

“I can tie a few bows into shape so you can keep assembling the other parts,” Sadie volunteered.

“Denki, but this is my job. You’ve got your hands full enough yourself.”

“Please,” Sadie pleaded.

Maria smiled knowingly. “Do you have a case of cabin fever already?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she handed Sadie a spool of ribbon, and to the children’s delight, she announced she needed their help on a special project. She supplied them with precut lengths of red and green cord, as well as a glue stick to share, before leading them to a crate filled with thin slices of tree trunks. She explained how to glue the cord onto the trunk slices, transforming them into ornaments the customers’ children could take for free to decorate their trees at home.

As Maria was setting up their workbench, Sadie deftly fashioned the stiff ribbon into fat loops until she formed a half-dozen bows and then stopped to affix one on each wreath from the pile. When she finished, she repeated the process as quickly as she could in order to keep up with Maria.

Once their work fell into a steady rhythm, Maria asked, “So, are you...getting on all right at the haus?”

“Jah,” Sadie answered carefully. “Although I’m discovering parents do things a little differently in Maine than in Pennsylvania.”

“Ha!” Maria uttered. When the children looked her way, she lowered her voice to confide, “The parenting differences you’ve noticed have nothing to do with Maine.”

“So were those, uh, differences the reason the other two nannies left?”

“Two? There were four nannies before you, and jah, that’s exactly why they left,” Maria whispered. “To be fair, Levi wasn’t always like this. He used to be fairly easygoing. But after his wife died, he became really controlling.”