The Amish Wedding Promise

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The Amish Wedding Promise Page 6

by Laura V. Hilton


  Vernon had already claimed the best bed in the room, the one nearest the window. Zeke put his bag on the other one, determined to make an effort to get along with Vernon. He left the room and found Gracie’s room. She’d thrown herself across the bed, shoulders heaving.

  Patience sat beside her, rubbing her back. “It okay, Gracie. Jesus calm the storm.”

  Zeke stopped in the doorway, laid the sandwich on the dresser, and backed out. He didn’t take time to look around. Gracie needed Patience right now more than either of them needed food.

  He dipped his head as he walked away. Jesus, please calm the storm.

  But a sense of unrest persisted.

  Chapter 7

  Grace’s head pounded and her throat hurt when she finally sat up, wiped her eyes, and hugged her sister. “Danki, Patience.”

  “You wash face now.” Patience patted her back. “Feel better.”

  Not really. Grace wasn’t sure she’d ever feel better. She wasn’t even sure how to pray. Gott had answered her prayers—maybe. He’d stopped the wedding, but did that mean He didn’t want her to marry Timothy? Or had Gott decided to give her a little more time to figure things out?

  If it was the latter, how would she figure it out if no one listened to her?

  If only she had someone to talk to at this very moment. Someone who cared. But she didn’t. No one except Slush. And he might be a good, loving listener, but he never gave her any helpful advice.

  “I hungry.” Patience followed her to the bathroom and watched as Grace splashed cold water on her face.

  “I heard the dinner bell a while ago. I’m surprised no one came to get us.” Grace reached for a towel.

  “Zeke did. He peeked in and left sandwich.”

  Grace spun around to face Patience, her face heating. “What?”

  “Zeke did. He—”

  “I heard you. Why didn’t you say something?”

  Patience’s face screwed up. “To who?” She held her hands up.

  Grace shut her eyes. “Never mind. Go on downstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.” She turned back to the sink and washed her face again, then tugged on her dress to make sure it wasn’t clinging somewhere it shouldn’t.

  Satisfied that everything was in place, she returned to her bedroom. Patience was right. A sandwich waited on the edge of her dresser, right inside the door.

  Her cheeks burned.

  Zeke had been inside her bedroom and witnessed her lying on her bed crying like a big baby. How awful.

  Not that anyone would judge her today. They would think she was in mourning due to the unconfirmed but extremely likely death of her groom.

  And she was. Sort of.

  Just mostly mourning that nobody cared enough to listen.

  She grabbed the sandwich and carried it downstairs. She wasn’t hungry anyway. Mamm would tell her she needed to eat to keep up her strength, but skipping one meal wouldn’t hurt, would it?

  The table was pulled out to full capacity, and her family plus Zeke and Vernon filled all the chairs except one. Everyone’s head was bowed.

  Oh, they were praying. Maybe she could escape out the front door. Or return to her room.

  “Amen,” Daed said.

  So much for escaping.

  She slipped into the empty seat between Patience and Jon and kept her head bowed. Hopefully, no one would notice any remaining tearstains.

  “Glad you joined us, Gracie. Zeke didn’t think you would,” Mamm said. “You need to keep up your strength.”

  Grace nodded and tried hard not to roll her eyes at how predictable Mamm was about “needing to keep up her strength.” Despite herself, her gaze rose to meet Zeke’s. His mouth quirked in a half smile, but his eyes remained serious. Caring.

  As if he might be the one person in the world who’d listen to her selfish concerns.

  Not that they mattered. Timothy was still missing.

  And it was her fault, because she’d asked Gott to stop the wedding.

  * * *

  After dinner, Zeke went outside, retrieved the dog brush, and called Slush over. Vernon retreated into the woods as Zeke sat on the bottom step, the husky leaning against his legs. Dishes clattered inside as the three women cleaned the kitchen.

  The Lantz men all scattered in different directions. At the noon meal, Seth had said something about him and Jon getting tarp or plastic to cover the broken windows, and shingles to repair the roof, as well as ordering supplies for a new barn. One of the brothers went for a wagon to collect the wood stacked on the side of the road. The others went to their homes to take care of things and inventory damages there. Seth had also mentioned something about a planned schedule for tomorrow.

  Left alone with the dog, Zeke rubbed the animal’s ears with one hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket with his other. No new messages, no missed calls. Hadn’t Daniel Zook checked his phone yet? Or did he already know about the three missing men? Seth Lantz had mentioned that Englisch experts would be in charge. Zeke would wait until evening and try to call him again.

  The backdoor opened. Gracie emerged and sat on the opposite side of the wide steps. She twisted to face him. “The dog isn’t going to get brushed at this rate,” she teased.

  He glanced at Slush leaning into his touch. “Guess not.” He patted the dog’s head. “Time to get to work, boy.”

  Slush gave him a mournful look and shifted away.

  Zeke ran the brush through the dog’s fur but glanced at Gracie. Maybe she’d have some idea where Timothy might’ve taken refuge. “Tell me about Timmy.”

  She hesitated. “He’s confident. Overly so, sometimes to the point of being arrogant. He never asked me to do something—just stated it, and I jumped. I don’t know why. Maybe because Mamm bends over backward to do what Daed wants, but their relationship is different somehow. Daed tries to please Mamm, too.”

  Zeke frowned. He’d meant what Timmy liked to do or where he liked to go so they’d know where to begin looking, but Gracie’s comments concerned him. “You like the bossy type?” Not that it was his business.

  She shook her head. “At first it was flattering. That first Sunday evening I was old enough to go to a singing he came up to me and said, ‘I’ll take you home.’ Then he walked off. My friends and I giggled about how he knew what he wanted. But then I witnessed guys asking—asking—my friends to ride home with them, and that seemed kind of sweet, you know? As if they had value and were respected.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Note to self: Ask her what she wants. Zeke looked away and continued brushing Slush. He’d always asked girls—hands damp with sweat, a quiver in his voice, and knees knocking, worried about the chance of a refusal that implied he wasn’t good enough.

  “His mamm and mine are friends, so Mamm was excited when she learned Timothy had started courting me. I was still flattered, but he acted possessive sometimes. If I talked to another guy, he would come over, interrupt, and pull me away to talk to someone else. When we were alone, he’d speak to me about being unfaithful. I’d really be in trouble if he saw me sitting here next to you, talking.”

  Zeke glanced at the wide space between them. Big enough for both Eli and Kiah to sit without any of them touching. He grunted.

  “If I made plans with a girlfriend, he wanted me to clear them with him first.”

  His fist tightened around the brush. “And you agreed to marry him when he asked?”

  “He didn’t ask. Gott told him that we were going to marry. And who am I to question Gott?”

  “How did your daed like this?” Zeke glanced at her. How many times had he questioned Gott?

  Gracie played with her kapp ribbons, twirling them around her fingers. “I didn’t tell him. Maybe it’s normal, you know? Mamm tells Daed everything like that. Then I tried to talk to Mamm, but she told me I have cold feet and said it was normal.”

  Zeke nudged the dog into a different position. “I’m not sure if it is or not. You should’ve talked to your daed.”

  “It’
s my fault Timothy’s missing.”

  Zeke’s hand fumbled the brush. He jerked away from Slush and stared at her. “How so?”

  “I prayed that Gott would stop the wedding.” Her voice broke.

  He shook his head. “I hardly think you are to blame for a tornado. That is caused by barometric pressure, I believe. Warm fronts mixing with cold fronts. Something like that.”

  Slush got up and nosed Gracie’s hand. She petted him. “Jah, but…”

  He waited, but she didn’t continue. “Why do you want to find him so badly? If you didn’t want to marry him, then…”

  She was silent for what seemed an eternity. “I love him. We grew up together. We had fun sometimes. He can be really sweet. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to marry him.”

  “And now you are?” Wow, absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

  She snorted. “Nein. I’m not at all sure. I just don’t understand why Gott would tell him it was His will for us to marry, but He wouldn’t tell me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

  It was true that the Amish teaching said one thing, but Zeke had found women like Gracie have brains of their own. And why wouldn’t Gott speak to them about something so important as marriage, too?

  “Besides, do I really want to have to explain every move I make and clear every friendship with Timothy for the rest of my life?” She glanced at him. “And why did Gott stop the wedding if it was His will for Timothy and me to marry?”

  She asked tough questions. He tried to think of a good response. Nothing came to mind. Especially when Slush’s earlier grin made him wonder if Gott had stopped the wedding so Zeke had the chance to meet Gracie. Not to mention Patience’s words about Zeke marrying Gracie. His cheeks burned. Not going there. He puffed out a breath and clasped his hands over his knees. “So do you want to find him?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? His family is worried about him, and I am, too. Besides, I need to have some closure. And if he used the tornado as an excuse to run away, I need to know, right?” Gracie shifted and the step creaked. “I refuse to be jilted. That is like the ultimate shame.”

  “Why would Timmy run away if he believes it is Gott’s will for you to marry?” Zeke grimaced. He shouldn’t have asked that. Besides, it seemed to him it’d be better to be jilted than married to the wrong person. “You know, never mind. Where should we start looking for him?”

  Gracie bounced to her feet. “His two best friends’ homes. Grab the chain saw and harness the horse. His name is Charlie, by the way. My grossdaadi named him. Charlie Horse.”

  He forced a chuckle. Stood. Something didn’t feel right about this at all. He wanted to find Seth and talk to him about Gracie and Timothy. But it was none of his business.

  “I’ll tell Mamm and see if she wants me to take Patience with us.” She grabbed the dog brush, dashed up the stairs, and disappeared inside the house.

  Slush moved to lean against Zeke’s legs again and looked up at him with a sad puppy dog expression.

  “Do you want to come?” Zeke ran his hand over Slush’s head.

  The dog tucked his tail, plopped down on the ground, and sighed.

  Funny how well Slush communicated. Zeke grinned. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Nein! You not find Timmy. Marry Zeke!” Patience wailed from inside. A thump followed.

  Zeke jerked to attention and glanced toward the haus. Leave it to Patience to state her desires so clearly. He liked Gracie, but they were barely acquaintances. Hardly ready to marry.

  He headed for the pasture and Charlie Horse. He didn’t even know Gracie’s grossdaadi and he already liked his sense of humor.

  Since he wasn’t even an opponent running some race against the confident Timmy, he needed to stay far away from the marriage drama.

  Not his business.

  Even if he wanted it to be.

  * * *

  Grace tried not to glare at Patience, but really, she wanted to. Patience wouldn’t understand, though. Especially since she’d connected faster with Zeke in a few hours than she had with Timothy in over three years. She’d heartily disliked Timothy. And he’d barely tolerated her.

  Grace really shouldn’t focus on the negative aspects of her groom. But wow, it was so nice to have someone listen to her and show some concern like Zeke had. He hadn’t offered any advice, though, other than to talk to Daed. And maybe she should, but with Timothy missing it hardly seemed appropriate.

  And then Zeke had to ask why she was so determined to find Timothy. Maybe part of the reason she wanted to find him was so this time she could tell him no—even if it was just to see how he’d react so she’d know what the rest of her married life might involve. Or maybe to suggest they wait another year. To make sure she was certain.

  “Hush now, Patience,” Mamm said. “She hardly knows Zeke. Besides, he doesn’t even live here. Timmy is a sweet young man and will be a fine husband for our Gracie.” She looked away from Patience and turned her attention to the piecrust she was making. “Patience can stay home with me. It might be better if she did, given her infatuation with a certain Indiana guest.”

  What would Mamm think if she knew Grace was infatuated with him, too?

  Grace shook that off. “Okay. I’m going to visit Timothy’s friends and see whether they made it home and if they know where Timothy might be.”

  “I do hope you find him safe and sound. Take another few bags of sandwiches and cookies with you. I sent some home with your brothers, too. They’ll go stale by the time Jon and Aubrey marry, and even if we have them for supper the next five nights, we have plenty.”

  Jah, it took a lot of sandwiches to feed a barn full of guests.

  Grace went downstairs for the picnic basket again to refill it with sandwiches and cookies. She carried it up, filled it, and took it out to the waiting buggy. Zeke held Charlie’s reins in one hand and reached for the basket with the other.

  “Feeding the electrical workers again?”

  She smiled, handed him the basket, and then climbed into the buggy. “I’m driving.”

  He lifted the picnic basket into the back and climbed in next to her. “Lead on, my lady.”

  When had anyone ever called her a lady?

  Grace steepled her hands and pressed her fingers to her lips as she closed her eyes. Lord Gott—

  “So, Timothy’s friends—”

  She opened her eyes, unsteepled her hands, and pressed one finger to her lips.

  His gaze dipped.

  “Shhh.” She’d barely made the noise when his fingers gently closed around hers.

  Sparks shot through her. Her eyes widened as his eyes rose to hers.

  “I was praying,” she whispered.

  He kept his hand against hers. “We’ll both pray. Gott knows where Timmy is. We’ll see you married, Lord willing, and if he’s who you want.”

  “What if he’s not?” She whispered that, too.

  Zeke’s jaw worked. “Then you have the right to say no.”

  She moistened her lips, let her gaze trail over the firm planes and angles of his face, then pulled her hand from his.

  It was so nice to have someone listen to her and, more importantly, hear her.

  Someday, she’d thank him.

  Someday.

  Somehow.

  Someway.

  Chapter 8

  Zeke should pray. He should. Instead, he dipped his head and watched Gracie out of the corner of his eye.

  She resteepled her hands and closed her eyes again. Her light-brown hair and kapp had been straightened sometime, but she still had wood chips clinging stubbornly to her blue dress. It wasn’t light like the sky, or dark like navy blue, but a shade that fell somewhere in the middle of the color spectrum. Whatever color it was officially known as in the artist world, it was a color that, with the light and shadows, complemented her eyes. Reflecting blue in some parts, gray in others.

  Beautiful eyes. A beautiful girl. Someone he would’ve considered work
ing up the courage to ask out on a buggy ride, if she lived in or near Shipshewana and he could easily date her.

  But distance between their homes aside, she loved Timothy. He needed to remember that. Even though she had issues with Timothy’s controlling nature, she loved him.

  Zeke had to admire the man’s courage, though. He’d never have the self-confidence to march up to a pretty girl and tell her that he was taking her home. But then Zeke stopped himself. Gracie didn’t appreciate not being asked. And…

  Timothy was controlling her friendships. That bothered Zeke more. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might’ve heard something sometime about men who did that being abusive. Zeke wouldn’t testify to that, though. Maybe he imagined it.

  But at the end of the day, Gracie loved Timothy.

  If she and Zeke ever became anything more than acquaintances, they’d be temporary friends at best. Just until Timothy was found—alive—and Zeke turned and walked away content in the knowledge that she was reunited with her one true love.

  The stuff romance novels were made of. He could almost imagine his sixteen-year-old sister, Elizabeth, sighing over that ending in one of those endless Christian romance novels she was eternally checking out of the library, four or five at a time. He teased her about it, but there were worse vices to have than being a romance-loving bookworm.

  Like buggy racing the night before a wedding, during a tornado. And what—had the guys stopped to go skinny-dipping? In November? Is that how Timmy lost his pants?

  Gracie made a clicking sound and Charlie Horse trotted toward the road.

  Zeke shook his runaway thoughts back on course. Checking with Timothy’s friends was a good place to begin. Because beyond that, Zeke didn’t have the vaguest idea where to start. Maybe checking storm shelters…but it seemed the owners would’ve noticed a random Amish man joining their family in the shelter. Unless the homeowners weren’t home, and he somehow got pinned in by a fallen tree or something.

  That’d be something to mention to Daniel Zook, too, whenever Zeke succeeded in reaching him.

 

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