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Authors: Mindy Starns Clark
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hadnât wanted to wait for the next auction at New Holland, because that would have been a lot closer and easier.
Regardless, we were on our way now. The drive would take about forty minutes, so I was glad when Amos found stuff to talk about. I didnât have to come up with anything and neither did Priscilla, who probably wouldnât have said a word anyway.
Amos mostly filled the time by updating Priscilla on the goings-on of every family from Ronks to New Holland and all places in between. He didnât talk about local life the way Roseanna would have, with news of weddings and births, but instead shared highlights of the good farm years and the not-so-good, new businesses and new schoolhouses, weather phenomena, who had been sick, and who had brought in interesting welding projects. By thetime we reached the outskirts of Ephrata, Amos had covered nearly every month of the six years Priscilla had been away.
Once we arrived at the auction, I directed Big Sam past the cars, trucks, and trailers belonging to the Englisch and the Mennonites to a long rank of Amish buggies out back. We found an empty slot and pulled in. I climbed out first, and as I turned to help Priscilla down, I saw that her eyes were already busy scanning the horizon, which was bustling with activity.
â Die Geil Vendyu, â she whispered, more to herself than to me. The horse auction.
Amos and Priscilla stood nearby as I tied up Big Sam, gave him a couple carrots as a reward for the long trek, and then wiped down the lather on his body so he wouldnât draw flies while he was out here waiting for us. As I worked, I sensed Priscillaâs focus on me, and I had the distinct impression she was making sure I was treating Big Sam well, especially after our earlier conversation regarding my skills as a horseman.
When I was finished, the three of us headed toward the auction grounds, which were already packed with people. Stone Road typically started off by auctioning tack at eight and then switched over to horses at ten. It was probably a little after nine right now, which meant we still had some time to check out the offerings before we would have to take our seats at the ring.
As we neared one of the holding pens, I gave Priscilla a glance, but I couldnât tell if she was excited or nervous or what. Mostly, she seemed distracted, which I supposed wasnât all that surprising. There was a lot to take in here, and for a first-timer it could be a bit overwhelming. She asked Amos about the general layout of the place and then said she would meet us in half an hour at the entrance to the stands.
âDonât you want to help pick out the ones weâll be bidding on for you?â her uncle asked, clearly startled.
She didnât answer. She had already wandered away.
Amos gave me a perplexed look, but I was as surprised as he. For a girl who was about to be given a new horse, she certainly didnât seem all that grateful.
Regardless, he grabbed a program and the two of us stepped up to the rails to get a look at the horses on the dayâs listing. We saw some Standardbreds that seemed healthy and werenât too young or too ancient. We decided on six good possibilities, and then we went inside the holding pen to give each ofthem a quick going-over. There wasnât the room or the time to do a full exam, but I was able to check their hooves, fetlocks, and knees while Amos looked at their teeth, ears, and eyes. Together, we narrowed our list down to four solid choices, and then we came back out and moved toward the bleachers.
The tack auction wasnât quite finished yet, so I offered to buy Amos some coffee while we waited to go in. He declined, turning and giving a hearty greeting of â Hoe gaat het? â to a familiar face, an Amish man I recognized as a welding customer. I headed off to get a cup for myself.
I wasnât sure whether Priscilla might want some too or not, so I scanned the crowd on
Regardless, we were on our way now. The drive would take about forty minutes, so I was glad when Amos found stuff to talk about. I didnât have to come up with anything and neither did Priscilla, who probably wouldnât have said a word anyway.
Amos mostly filled the time by updating Priscilla on the goings-on of every family from Ronks to New Holland and all places in between. He didnât talk about local life the way Roseanna would have, with news of weddings and births, but instead shared highlights of the good farm years and the not-so-good, new businesses and new schoolhouses, weather phenomena, who had been sick, and who had brought in interesting welding projects. By thetime we reached the outskirts of Ephrata, Amos had covered nearly every month of the six years Priscilla had been away.
Once we arrived at the auction, I directed Big Sam past the cars, trucks, and trailers belonging to the Englisch and the Mennonites to a long rank of Amish buggies out back. We found an empty slot and pulled in. I climbed out first, and as I turned to help Priscilla down, I saw that her eyes were already busy scanning the horizon, which was bustling with activity.
â Die Geil Vendyu, â she whispered, more to herself than to me. The horse auction.
Amos and Priscilla stood nearby as I tied up Big Sam, gave him a couple carrots as a reward for the long trek, and then wiped down the lather on his body so he wouldnât draw flies while he was out here waiting for us. As I worked, I sensed Priscillaâs focus on me, and I had the distinct impression she was making sure I was treating Big Sam well, especially after our earlier conversation regarding my skills as a horseman.
When I was finished, the three of us headed toward the auction grounds, which were already packed with people. Stone Road typically started off by auctioning tack at eight and then switched over to horses at ten. It was probably a little after nine right now, which meant we still had some time to check out the offerings before we would have to take our seats at the ring.
As we neared one of the holding pens, I gave Priscilla a glance, but I couldnât tell if she was excited or nervous or what. Mostly, she seemed distracted, which I supposed wasnât all that surprising. There was a lot to take in here, and for a first-timer it could be a bit overwhelming. She asked Amos about the general layout of the place and then said she would meet us in half an hour at the entrance to the stands.
âDonât you want to help pick out the ones weâll be bidding on for you?â her uncle asked, clearly startled.
She didnât answer. She had already wandered away.
Amos gave me a perplexed look, but I was as surprised as he. For a girl who was about to be given a new horse, she certainly didnât seem all that grateful.
Regardless, he grabbed a program and the two of us stepped up to the rails to get a look at the horses on the dayâs listing. We saw some Standardbreds that seemed healthy and werenât too young or too ancient. We decided on six good possibilities, and then we went inside the holding pen to give each ofthem a quick going-over. There wasnât the room or the time to do a full exam, but I was able to check their hooves, fetlocks, and knees while Amos looked at their teeth, ears, and eyes. Together, we narrowed our list down to four solid choices, and then we came back out and moved toward the bleachers.
The tack auction wasnât quite finished yet, so I offered to buy Amos some coffee while we waited to go in. He declined, turning and giving a hearty greeting of â Hoe gaat het? â to a familiar face, an Amish man I recognized as a welding customer. I headed off to get a cup for myself.
I wasnât sure whether Priscilla might want some too or not, so I scanned the crowd on
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