Her Forbidden Amish Love

by Jocelyn McClay

  She was just starting to feel the cold when the wind carried the beautiful sound of an approaching ambulance siren.

  When she led the EMS personnel inside, it was to the welcomed sight of Bishop Weaver stirring and blinking his eyes. Ensuring she stayed out of the way, Hannah sagged bonelessly against a row of fabric, uncaring that she knocked the bolts crooked from their normally pristine arrangement.

  When Gabe followed the gurney to the ambulance a short time later, she stayed inside the store, numbly watching the small crowd that’d gathered outside. A few of the onlookers were Amish, their faces mirroring shock and dismay as their bishop was loaded into the ambulance.

  By the time Gabe reentered the shop, Hannah had straightened the fabric bolts, hung up the phone and shakily lowered herself into the chair by the counter. At the sound of the bell and the tread of his shoes, she surged to her feet and into his arms. She almost wept anew with relief and comfort as they closed securely about her. Her eyes fluttered closed at his light kiss on her forehead.

  “You probably saved his life,” he murmured into her hair.

  Hannah sniffed once before succumbing to tears. They leaked onto his shirt.

  Gabe rocked her gently. “Shh. It’s okay. You did fantastic. His vitals were good when they left. They’ll take good care of him. You did everything you could and did it well.”

  Hannah inhaled raggedly. “How can you do what you do? I was so frightened.”

  “How can I not?” Another soft kiss, this time on her hair. “If I can save one life, or help one person on what might be their worst day, I feel like I’m fulfilling a major part of the purpose God has for my life.”

  Her knees still shaky, Hannah snuggled closer into his embrace. She’d felt that, too. Once the fear had subsided, when the outlook had become hopeful, among the myriad of emotions that’d bombarded her had been a sliver of satisfaction in making a difference.

  Gabe rocked her a moment more, before he eased back to look down into her face. Lifting a hand, he gently thumbed away the remaining tears from her cheeks. “God has a purpose for all of us. When I found mine, it was like something falling so obviously into place, I’m surprised there wasn’t an audible click. I don’t always save everyone.” Gabe paused, his face solemn as his thoughts went somewhere far away from the brightly colored store. When he spoke again, his voice was initially hoarse. “But I do all I can to make a difference, to create a positive outcome.”

  He took another small step back, his arm drifting away from her shoulder. Hannah felt its absence, the loss of its warmth and support, immediately. Reaching out a hand, she grasped the back of the chair she’d been sitting on earlier. Gabe’s gaze followed the movement with lowered eyebrows.

  After a moment, his attention remaining on the seat, he half smiled. “I’d be careful sitting in that.”

  Hannah cautiously pulled her hand away, as if the chair suddenly presented a danger.

  “There must be something about it. People keep passing out whenever they sit there. Of course—” his crooked smile expanded into a teasing grin “—the other common denominator is you. And that I can understand. You take my breath away whenever I’m around you.”

  Hannah slapped her hands to her face to cover her flaming cheeks. The action also served to hide her smile. Ducking her head, she hurried to the other side of the counter in order to get some barrier between her and Gabe. Just in case she did something foolish, like jump back into his arms.

  When he gave her a wink and a wave and headed for the back door, she waved farewell. Gabe felt certain of his purpose in life. Hannah hoped she could learn to be as certain in hers. But with her hands still reveling in the feel of Gabe’s gentle fingers touching her skin, it was hard to imagine that her purpose was to marry the bishop’s son.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pausing at the back door to the quilt shop, Gabe took a deep breath. He was going to ask Hannah to join him for lunch at The Dew Drop. The question was weightier than a simple meal together. He was asking her to make a public acknowledgment of a relationship—a possible relationship, he reminded himself.

  Although they hadn’t seen each other for the past few days, she was never far from his mind. He knew Hannah felt the same as he did—that they could have something precious and rare. Gabe ran a hand through his hair. He’d also thought the same thing years earlier. And been left alone, never to see her again until earlier this month. But if she said yes to being with him today...in full view of her Amish community...

  Taking another deep breath, he pushed the door open.

  Hannah poked her head out of one of the many colorful aisles as he closed it behind him. Gabe’s shoulders relaxed. His lips curved to share the immediate shy smile that lit her face. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. To his joy, she seemed to be content with the same. It was more than wonderful, but the action wasn’t going to get him a public date.

  He cleared his throat. “I was wondering how the bishop was doing.” Their efforts with Bishop Weaver had been the talk of the community the past few days.

  “Gut. He should be out of the hospital soon.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Gabe shifted his feet and wiped his sweaty palms against the side of his pants. Much is lost for want of asking. “I was also wondering if you’d be interested in joining me for lunch? I’d love to hear how the auction plans are going. Besides, an endless cup of coffee at The Dew Drop would help me get through the rest of the day.”

  Gabe held his breath as the smile wavered on Hannah’s face. His stomach dropped. She was going to say no.

  Hannah’s gaze darted around the shop before returning to meet his. “I could handle getting something to eat.” She put a hand over her stomach. “I think.”

  Gabe blew out his breath in a slow, quiet stream. Knowing it would be too much, he resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand. “Are you ready?” Hannah would understand the question to mean more than if she was prepared to walk out the door.

  Her slender throat worked in a swallow, but she nodded. Unable to keep the elated smile from his face, Gabe waited while Hannah put a sign on the door and donned her cape and bonnet. Then they were out on the street. Together. In public. By her choice, and not because she was worried about her missing dog.

  Gabe was abnormally aware of every horse and buggy that clip-clopped past them during the short walk to the restaurant. Knowing the speed of the Amish grapevine, Gabe wondered if half the community knew he was taking Hannah to lunch before they pushed open the door into The Dew Drop. If not, from the heads that swiveled in their direction when they entered, he figured they would by the time he and Hannah placed their orders. He understood enough of the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect to know they were the topic of conversation at every table they passed.

  By the studied composure of her face, so did Hannah.

  * * *

  Hannah sighed in relief when they settled into a booth at the back of the restaurant, just outside the swinging door to the kitchen. Her face flushed as she recalled a recent lunch here with another man. She bit the inside of her cheek. There had been nothing official about her relationship with Jethro. It’d only been...strongly suggested.

  The community had been receptive to the fundraiser, even though rumors were circulating that she was spearheading the event due to her interest in the man rather than the program. Surely the community could become receptive to the man? Outsiders had been accepted before—not into the church, but into the Plain community at large. Why not Gabe? He was a good man. Surely everyone could see that? And a Mennonite. There’d been a pleased rumble throughout the district about him, initiated by the Amish volunteer firefighters who’d gotten to know him.

  But what kind of relationship could they have? Knowing his passion for his work, Hannah knew Gabe wouldn’t become Plain. That left...her leaving. Could she? She’d pondered it once. The answer had been a tenta
tive yes before it became an adamant no. But with Gail now back, some of that sting was gone.

  Slipping off her cloak and bonnet, Hannah tucked them into the corner of the booth’s seat before turning to face the man across the table. If they could keep his job here, was there a way they could stay together in the community? She couldn’t become a baptized member of the church, but if she could still see and be involved with family and friends...could she live with that?

  Studying his dear face, Hannah thought perhaps she could. It felt good to be here together. In the open. Hannah’s smile pushed up like daffodils in spring. It felt really good in fact.

  Gabe seemed to feel the same way. His green eyes regarded her warmly. “So, how’s the auction coming? Have a location? A date?” He raised an eyebrow. “Any participants?”

  “Ja, to all three. Since it’ll help the volunteer fire department, they’ve offered the use of the building and surrounding area for the auction. As for participants, there’s been a lot of discussion. I need to confirm items so I can have posters made to hang around town.”

  Gabe nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds good. Sounds great, in fact. Anything I can do to help?”

  “Do you know how to sew?” Hannah jested.

  “Not at all. Guess you’ll have to find something else for me to do.”

  Right now, what Hannah would like for Gabe to do would be reach across the table and hold her hand. Was the community ready for that? Was she? Hannah flattened her hands on the wooden surface to keep from reaching for him herself.

  The bang of the kitchen doors beside them made her jump. Rebecca came over, her expression as grim as Hannah had ever seen as she set water glasses on their table.

  “You ready to order?”

  Gabe raised his eyebrows at the normally cheerful waitress’s unusual demeanor. He reached for the menus nestled behind the napkin dispenser. “Sorry, could we have another minute?” With an abrupt nod and a pasted smile, Rebecca turned toward the kitchen.

  Concerned, Hannah watched as the young woman pushed through the swinging doors. Now, over the top of them, she noticed the blotchy, tear-streaked face of Rachel Mast. As she watched, Rebecca gave a comforting hug to her older sister.

  Hannah frowned. “I wonder what’s going on. I hope everyone is all right. You haven’t been contacted about anything, have you?”

  Gabe pulled his phone out and glanced at the screen. “No missed calls.” Putting the phone back, he checked the device at his hip. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  Hannah relaxed, but she was still worried. Traveling on busy roads could be risky for the slower moving buggies. Farming was a dangerous business. Accidents might be more prevalent in the busy summer season, but silos filled with grain could be treacherous. Animals could kick or injure people. The Mast girls had recently lost their daed to a lingering illness. It would be awful if something had happened to their mamm or younger bruder, as well.

  A low rumble of male voices heralded the arrival of a group of Amish men into the restaurant. Hannah knew them all. They worked at a local business that made portable buildings. She was surprised when a few frowned at her and Gabe. While she’d expected a few raised eyebrows, their expressions leaned to unfriendliness. Visiting with the customers they passed, the group made their way to a table. Within moments, a ripple of whispers circled the room.

  By the time a more-composed Rebecca took their order and delivered it, Hannah discovered she and Gabe had drawn more attention. She straightened against the back of the booth when one of the men who’d come in with the group approached them.

  “Why did you tell Aaron Raber to leave for the Englisch world?”

  * * *

  Setting down his water glass, Gabe furrowed his brow, trying to recall where he’d seen the man before. “Excuse me?”

  “You told Aaron Raber to go to an Englisch school. He’s gone. He left the community.”

  Frowning, Gabe shook his head. “I didn’t tell Aaron to go.”

  The man’s lips flattened. Gabe couldn’t recall the man’s name, but he finally placed him as a volunteer fireman who’d attended one of his trainings.

  “I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding,” Gabe told him. The man’s grave expression didn’t change. “I’ve only seen Aaron at the department’s training the other night. We spoke briefly...” about his interest in training on gas and diesel engines, when I gave him a number to contact about it.

  His stomach churning, Gabe strangled his fork. Now he remembered the man as one who’d been in the small cluster near where he and Aaron had spoken. Surely Aaron hadn’t taken Gabe’s simple action as encouragement to leave?

  It took another swallow to force down the previous bite of food that suddenly stuck in his throat. The goodwill of the Amish community was helpful to his job. In fact, if they were going to be the ones financially supporting it, it was vital. His gaze shifted to Hannah. It would be vital for that relationship to work, as well.

  Gabe cleared his throat. “We chatted about a business interest he had. I gave him some information. That was all. I certainly didn’t encourage him to leave.”

  The man’s expression indicated he believed Gabe was directly responsible for Aaron’s departure. He strode back to his companions, who were watching from their table with chilly expressions.

  Gabe felt several gazes burn into his back. His meal could’ve been shredded paper for all he tasted. From Hannah’s rounded eyes, she felt the weight of the attention, as well. When an unusually somber Rebecca passed by and gestured with the coffeepot, they shook their heads. Gabe had his wallet out before she brought over the check. Talking in the restaurant ceased as he and Hannah walked to the door. The frosty winter day outside seemed warm in contrast.

  “Did you know anything about this?” Hannah whispered as they hurried down the sidewalk toward the shop.

  “No more than I said at the booth. Aaron was interested in motors. Something about determining there was a need for that type of work. I gave him a contact number. Did his leaving have anything to do with Rebecca and the other young woman’s distress? And why are we whispering?”

  Hannah faced forward, although she spoke in a louder voice. “I’ve never had other Plain folks treat me like that. Not since...not for a while. It brought back memories. Unpleasant ones.”

  Gabe slowed his stride at her admission, but when Hannah didn’t, he hurried to catch up. Before he could address her concerning comment, she spoke again.

  “Everyone knows Rebecca Mast’s sister Rachel and Aaron Raber are walking out together. They’ve been together for years. They took the baptism classes so they could be married. Aaron was supposed to be baptized with Rachel, my sister Abigail, Samuel Schrock and others this fall. Although Aaron came the day before to confirm his decision to be baptized, that Sunday morning a horse kicked him. It was obvious his arm was broken.”

  Gabe lifted his eyebrows. That explained the short cast on Aaron’s arm the night of the training.

  “They took him to Portage to have it taken care of. Benjamin came and was baptized. I don’t know when they were going to complete it for Aaron. I know Rachel has been anxious, because she’s waited all this time to marry him. And now he’s gone.”

  Gabe blew out a breath. “No wonder she was upset,” he murmured. “How often do young folks leave from your district?”

  Hannah stumbled. Gabe automatically shot out a hand to catch her. To his surprise, she shook it off. “Not...often. Rarely. Not since...not since my sister years ago.”

  “Your sister left? When was this?”

  “That day we were supposed to meet.” Jerking open the door to the quilt shop, Hannah swept inside, leaving Gabe rooted to the sidewalk.

  By the time he followed, she’d hung up her cloak and positioned herself behind the counter, almost as if she wanted a barrier between them. Why not? Gabe stopped on the other s
ide. There always had been. Maybe, even beside the differences in religious doctrines, they were getting to the root of it. It certainly wasn’t about their compatibility and the way he felt about her. And the way he thought she’d felt about him.

  “Was that why you didn’t show up that night?”

  Hannah picked at the embedded ruler in the countertop. “I walked with her down the lane, trying to convince her to stay. She was determined to go. The man she’d been—” Hannah shot a glance at him from beneath lowered lashes “—secretly walking out with was marrying another, and Gail was going to have a boppeli.”

  Her voice had dropped so much that Gabe leaned over the counter to hear the last bit.

  “I...I had to tell Mamm and Daed. I had never seen them so heartbroken.” Hannah shifted from fiddling with the ruler to spinning the orange-handled scissors that lay nearby with her finger. “I couldn’t leave them that night. Not when I was secretly meeting someone, as well.”

  “Why didn’t you let me know?”

  “How? We didn’t exactly plan beyond a meeting at a time,” she countered softly. “Besides, after seeing what Gail’s leaving did to my family... Their sadness, the shame they felt when those who are prone to judge in the community slighted or gossiped about us. How could I do the same thing to them? How could I have left, as well? Break their hearts again? Provide more fodder for the gossips? What example would that set for my brieder?” Her voice grew stronger as she spoke. Hannah looked up now, eyes glistening with tears but the set of her jaw almost daring Gabe to refute her statements.

  “Theirs weren’t the only hearts involved,” he murmured.

  Hannah sniffed, her face softening. “I thought you could handle it.”

  Gabe’s lips twitched. “I appreciate your confidence in me. I guess.” Twisting to look behind him, he located the chair. “Glad you didn’t remove it. I feel like I need it. I’ll try not to pitch onto the floor.” Stepping back, he dropped into the seat.