Hannah's Courtship

Hannah winced. The term was wrong. Ugly. “Downs,” she corrected softly. “With Down syndrome. Like my Susanna.”

“She wasn’t Amish. The midwife. ‘He might not live,’ she said. ‘A lot of times babies like him have a bad heart. It might be a blessing if he did—’ My Ebben, he’s quiet, like David. But he got so mad at that woman. ‘Don’t you say that!’ he said. ‘Don’t you say such things about our beautiful son.’ And he was beautiful, Hannah. He had this mop of yellow hair, as yellow as May butter, big blue eyes and the sweetest look on his face.”

“My husband always said that Susanna was a blessing from God.”

Sadie nodded eagerly. “Ebben asked that midwife to leave and not come back. We took David to a baby doctor at a big hospital. He told us that David would grow and learn like any other child. But he never said what a good boy David would be. He’s never been willful.” She hesitated. “It’s why we never thought that David would ever...”

“Sneak out at night?”

“Our older son, now that one. When he was Rumspringa—he was a caution. Sowing his wild oats, Ebben always said. And if David wasn’t...didn’t have Downs, we would have expected him to...”

“But he does. They do.” Hannah swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “We’ve always protected Susanna, kept her close. She’s afraid of the dark. Running off to buy pizza...” Hannah exhaled softly. “I don’t know what to do. They just have this idea that—”

“That they’re courting,” Sadie finished. “I know. I know it’s crazy, but David is very fond of your Susanna. He talks about her all the time.”

“They could have been killed in that buggy accident.”

“I know. I couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night. David’s driven in the field and in the yard, but never a horse on the road. He doesn’t understand the danger of motor vehicles. It’s a blessing your pony wasn’t injured when the buggy went into the ditch.”

Both women were quiet for a moment.

“The question is,” Hannah said, “what do we do about them? I almost sent her to Brazil to visit Leah and her husband. I thought that maybe a few months away from David and—”

Sadie cut her off absently. “He was sick. When he was little. Cancer. We thought we were going to lose him. But God was good. The doctors...”

She raised her gaze to meet Hannah’s. “He can’t ever be a father, our David. The doctors said it’s impossible. Some boys with his...with Downs... But for certain with David. He’ll never be able to...you know.”

“Oh.” Hannah almost said she was sorry, but was she? Was that a blessing, considering David’s difficulty in taking care of his own needs? And why was Sadie sharing that? What did it have to do with Susanna and David sneaking off at night?

“I was just thinking,” Sadie said. “Ebben’s cousin’s daughter Janet, she’s slow. Not Downs. Not like Susanna or David. But she can’t read, can hardly count to twenty. David can, you know. He can read, too. Easy books and The Budget. He loves to read The Budget to us in the evenings.”

Hannah waited, wondering what Sadie’s point was.

“Janet, she got to an age where she wanted to be like her sisters, wanted to walk out with boys and go to the singings and the frolics. And pretty soon, she had herself a beau.”

“What did her parents do?”

“They talked to their bishop and their church elders, and they all decided that the best thing to do, considering...”

Hannah shifted in her seat. “Was?”

“To let them get married.”

“Get married?” Hannah repeated.

Sadie nodded.

“Are you suggesting that—” Hannah stopped and started again. “Are you saying that you think that David and my daughter—” She took a moment to compose herself. “Sadie, Susanna and David could never be married and live alone. They could never live a married life.”

Sadie pressed her lips together. “Maybe not the same married life we’ve had, but...” She looked down at her hands, then back up Hannah. “I’m not saying we should give them permission to court. I just think it’s something we need to keep in the back of our minds.”

Chapter Three

Albert pulled into the long driveway that led through the trees to his nephew John’s new log-cabin-style home. He glanced at his watch as he pulled into a spot in front of the porch. He was right on time.

He’d had a good day, considering that he’d had less sleep last night than usual; by the time he’d returned from the Yoder farm, it had been after two in the morning. Not that he minded. As a matter of fact, he’d enjoyed the little adventure. Of course, he was concerned for Hannah’s daughter and her friend. Thankfully, everyone was safe. No harm done.

And his day had turned out to be an easy one. Besides the four routine calls for immunizations, he’d stitched up a pig’s snout, and done a physical examination on a nice-looking colt. With the new vet that he and his nephew had hired tending to the small-animal portion of the practice, he was free to spend his time where his heart was, with large-animal cases: cows, horses, pigs, sheep and goats.

John and his wife, Grace, stepped out onto the porch and waved. Albert felt a rush of pride. He’d never fathered a child, but John was as close to being a son as a man could ask for. And the wife he’d chosen, Grace Yoder, had come to the marriage with a bright-eyed little boy who had eased his way into Albert’s heart.

Albert walked around the truck, opened the passenger door and let his dog out. From the floor, he took a bag containing a junior-size pair of binoculars he’d found while poking around in his attic. They had been John’s when he’d been around Dakota’s age, and he thought the boy might like them.

“Come in, Uncle Albert,” Grace called. “Supper’s ready. My spaghetti and Johanna’s yeast rolls. Your favorite.” She led them into the house and the dog trotted behind them. “She sent them home with me when I went to pick up ’Kota.”

“Where is the little rascal?” Albert looked around. “I brought him these.” He held out the binoculars.

“He’s not here,” Grace explained. “Johanna invited him to stay overnight with Jonah, and I couldn’t pry him away.”

“He’ll be sorry he missed you. But I know he’ll love these. I remember when Gramps bought the binoculars for me,” John said, taking them from Albert and peering through them. “The two of us used to go bird-watching on Sundays after church.”

“I’ll just finish up in the kitchen,” Grace said with a smile. “You two catch up on vet talk.” She hurried away, auburn ponytail swinging behind her.

Albert grinned at John. “I like that girl more every time I see her. You picked a winner. I’m just going to wash up.” He pointed toward the half bath in the hall.

John bent to pat the dog’s head. “I did, didn’t I?” he said. “Grace has made me happy, really happy.”

Albert paused at the bathroom door. “You’d have to be crazy if you weren’t happy, with her and ’Kota.”

Albert entered the small room, switched on the light and closed the door behind him. Funny, he thought as he soaped his hands, how much life there seemed to be inside the walls of this house. He looked into the round mirror. “Love inside these walls,” he murmured half under his breath. For days, he’d been looking forward to sharing this evening meal with the three of them. Home was pretty lonely without Pop there now, just him and old Blue and the two cats that had somehow wormed their way into the family.

Blue had been a hard-luck case just like the cats, and had turned out to be one of the best snap decisions he’d ever made. Not a lot of people wanted a three-legged coon hound that couldn’t hunt anymore, but he and Blue suited each other just fine. Without Blue... Albert sighed. Dogs had short lives, compared to humans, but most folks couldn’t help getting deeply attached to them, and he’d be the first to admit he was guilty.

Grace was still in the kitchen when he joined John at the long pine table in the dining room. As she had predicted, they each had stories of the day’s patients and their owners to share. Albert settled into a chair, took a sip from the glass of iced tea John had given him and studied the spacious room.

The log walls, the heavy log beams and wood floors gave the place a real flavor, and Grace and John had furnished it with a mixture of vintage pieces, such as a beautiful refinished icebox and a scarred church pew, mixed with a few antiques. Nothing was fancy. So far as he knew, the young couple didn’t own a television. Other than the laptop, which lay on a maple desk in the living room, and electricity, the house could have been from another century.

“So what’s this I hear about you coming to the Yoders’ rescue last night?” John asked.

“Amish telegraph?” Albert asked with a chuckle.

John laughed. “Johanna told Grace. I can’t imagine Susanna and David King out on the road at night with a pony. It’s a wonder something worse didn’t happen to them.”

Albert leaned back in the chair. “I came along at the right time. Whoever ran them into that ditch kept going. But it might teach those kids a lesson and keep them out of worse trouble.”

Grace came to the table with individual bowls of garden salad. “Susanna’s never done anything like that before. I’ve never known her to get into any kind of trouble. She’s such a sweet girl.”

“You think it’s serious, David and Susanna?” John asked Grace. “They seem to spend a lot of time together.”