Plain Jayne by Hillary Manton Lodge Read Free Book Online

to decipher a conversation might push me over the brink.
    Me and the potatoes, we were good.

    â€œLet us give thanks,” Gideon said, his voice soft with a rumble. Nine heads bowed in unison.
    I used the moment to stare without being noticed. The men sat on one side of the table, the women on the other. We were surrounded by bowls and platters filled with food, tall glasses of thick, white milk, and a conspicuous lack of fresh vegetables.
    After the moment of silence, I watched in fascination as this large family calmly, methodically downed huge quantities of food, with the men serving themselves first. Dinner conversation revolved around household chores and retellings of the workday. Samuel, Leah, and Elizabeth still attended school, while Amos, Elam, and Sara worked.
    Gideon discussed with his sons which cattle needed to be moved, when to butcher the pigs, and the fact that some of the fence needed repair. Martha commented to Sara which garments were wearing out beyond use and which could be mended. Sara promised to start work on a new pair of pants for Samuel.
    Not what I was doing at seventeen. My teen years consisted less of housework and family than of daydreaming about faraway colleges.
    â€œTell us about yourself,” Ida said, interrupting my thoughts. “Where are you from?”
    I shoved my hair out of my face. “I live in Portland, but I grew up on the coast.”
    Squeals of delight erupted around the table. “Where on the coast?” Sara asked.
    â€œLincoln City.”
    Leah leaned forward. “Did you go to the beach every day?”
    â€œNo…not every day. The weather’s pretty nasty.”
    â€œJayne, would you like more potatoes?” Martha interrupted.
    I declined.
    Ida pressed forward. “What is your family like?”
    I told them about my married sister, Beth, and her little girl. How my mother still lived in Lincoln City. Alluded to the fact that we didn’t talk often. Work, you know.
    â€œOnly one sister?” Elizabeth’s brow furrowed.
    I smiled, realizing how strange that must sound to her. “Only one sister. Sometimes it got lonely.”
    I offered to do the dishes after dinner. Nine faces looked at me, aghast, but Gideon said yes.
    After I’d finished scrubbing the last baking dish, albeit with Sara and Leah’s help, Gideon offered to give me a tour of the farm.
    â€œWhatever I can help with, put me to work,” I said as we stepped out of the house. “Milking, whatever.”
    Gideon howled in laughter, but when we got into the stalls I saw why. The milking machinery towered over us both. “Many people think we Amish are against technology,” he said, “and that’s not true. We believe in three things.” He held up three fingers. “We believe in serving God by being Plain. We believe in living outside the world. And we believe in hard work. Life should never be too easy for us. Milking equipment—” he gestured at the stainless steel tanks—“makes the milking easy, but it also makes it so we can work at other things even harder. We run the machinery on diesel and wind generators. We do not bring in outside electricity.”
    â€œI stand corrected.”
    Gideon led me to the corral next. “Our horses are not for riding, they are for pulling. Sugar and Shoe pull the buggy—”
    â€œShoe?”
    He gave a rueful smile. “Elizabeth named him when she was tiny.”
    â€œGood choice.”
    â€œBalsam pulls the tractor.”
    â€œWhat do you grow?”
    â€œMainly sorghum and oats. Maybe next year, though, I will take out the sorghum and put in solar panels.” He shrugged. “Maybe. The families living here in Oregon came because we wanted to follow the old ways
and
use technology. Many groups in Ohio use the technology, but their children run wild and the
Ordnung
became less important. There was too much compromise.”
    I tried to look as if