The Amish Wedding Promise

by Laura V. Hilton

He reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I’ll hitch up their horse and buggy for them.”

  “You’re a good man, Zeke.” Gracie’s voice broke.

  He managed a tight smile as he grabbed the ladder, collapsed it, and carried that and the hammer to the barn.

  He just wished he could do more.

  * * *

  Grace went back into the haus and left a note for Hallie’s mamm and sisters, then returned to the buggy. Zeke—or someone—had given Charlie Horse a pail of water.

  “Hallie and Ted just left.” Zeke gestured toward the road when he came out of the barn. “I took care of their tools as best as I could.” He sighed heavily and shuffled his feet a bit. “Did, uh, you want to head to town and see if we can find Timothy?”

  Grace pursed her lips. “Why?”

  Zeke frowned. “Because Hallie said she saw him?”

  “She thought about it and decided it wasn’t him. There’s no point in going to town to search for Timothy’s look-alike. What good would it do?”

  Zeke’s brow furrowed. “But…well, wouldn’t it be best to be sure?”

  Grace wasn’t sure she wanted to know. If it was Timothy and he was playing dumb with Hallie, Grace wasn’t sure she would be able to keep from telling him off. And maybe telling him that very firm NO and actually meaning it. Because any guy who worried his mamm and didn’t check on his bride on their wedding day just wasn’t the type of man she wanted to be married to.

  She forced her temper under control, tried for a calm exterior—though she probably failed—and shrugged. “Where would we start to look? I doubt he hung out at the restaurant all day. Besides, we should probably get home.”

  Zeke didn’t look too certain. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, then shrugged. “Your wish is my command.”

  As if what she wanted actually mattered.

  As if he’d move mountains if she asked him to.

  Or maybe even uproot himself and relocate to Hidden Springs, just to be near her.

  If she wanted.

  If she found the courage to hope. To believe.

  To ask.

  Chapter 12

  A half hour later, the Lantz farm came into view, bordered on the sides by a swollen drainage ditch. A disheveled, mud-covered figure hovered near the edge. The figure locked gazes with Zeke a moment before recognition sparked in his eyes. “Ezekiel. Wait.”

  “Vernon?” Zeke pulled on the reins. “Halt.”

  Vernon took a giant step over the ditch and slipped. His knees sank into the mud.

  Zeke jumped from the buggy and offered a hand, helping him scramble up to the road. Why was he out here by himself? Was he hurt? “Are you all right?”

  “Jah, I’m fine. Danki.” Vernon glanced at Gracie. “Did you find Timothy?”

  “Not yet,” she answered.

  Vernon glanced at Zeke, his brown eyes serious. Jah, Zeke agreed with Vernon’s unspoken assessment. If Timothy wasn’t the man Hallie thought she’d recognized in town, then Gott alone knew if Timothy was still alive or where the tornado set Timothy down. The next town, the next county, the next state. They really needed to track the system and form a detailed search grid—

  “I found another cow.”

  Huh? Zeke glanced at Vernon, then at the cornfield behind him. No bovine appeared behind him in the almost-barren field. Just a few straggly, dried-up cornstalks that somehow missed being cleared during the harvest.

  “Not here,” Vernon said. “Off in the woods. It’s stuck, bawling in misery, and I can’t rescue it on my own. It’s kicking, getting itself more stuck, and risking injury. I’m looking for Seth or Jon.”

  “Can we help?” Zeke asked.

  “Jah, but I think we might need more than just us. The cow’s wedged pretty tight. Do you think your daed and brother are back from town yet?” Vernon glanced at Gracie.

  She looked toward the driveway. “I don’t know. Hop in. We’re headed home anyway.”

  Vernon glanced down at his wet and muddy pants, then shrugged. “Danki.” He climbed into the back of the buggy next to the empty picnic basket.

  “Two baskets down, a buggy load yet to go,” Gracie murmured.

  Huh? Zeke glanced at her and out of the corner of his eye caught Vernon’s frown.

  “Sandwiches.” Gracie must’ve noticed his expression, too.

  Vernon still looked confused.

  “From the wedding that wasn’t,” Zeke clarified.

  Vernon nodded, as if it made perfect sense now. “My bride is preparing for our wedding in three weeks,” he said quietly. “I can’t imagine what you are going through.”

  Maybe he did understand.

  A white van pulled out of the driveway as Zeke approached the beat-up mailbox. At least it was no longer dangling precariously from the post, even if it took pink tools to get the job done.

  Two men stood in the yard, facing the direction of the vanished barn. A pile of lumber and other items were partially covered by a tarp.

  Right. Barn raising tomorrow. And probably visitation starting for Toby. Zeke’s presence wouldn’t be required at the visitation—or funeral—unless they wanted him to accompany Gracie.

  “They’re home.” Gracie stated the obvious as they turned into the driveway.

  “Can we get to where the cow is by buggy?” Zeke looked at Vernon.

  “Probably, but I don’t know the way by road. We’ll need a rope to secure the cow to the buggy, if we free her,” Vernon said.

  Zeke slowed the horse as they drove behind the haus.

  “I’ll look for a rope.” Gracie stood in the still-moving buggy.

  “Hold on, now,” Zeke said, reaching for her, but she hitched her skirt and vaulted out. His breath caught and his heart stuttered when her feet narrowly missed the turning buggy wheels and she had to twist sideways to avoid slamming into a boulder, but she somehow managed to land on her feet and took off at a dash toward the haus.

  Her daed yelled, “Halt!”

  Charlie Horse stopped. But Gracie didn’t.

  Vernon made some odd sound. One that might’ve been a yelp.

  Zeke agreed, once his breath caught up with him and his heart resumed beating. “Jah, the woman is dangerous.”

  “She kind of reminds me of some trick rider I saw at the county fair once. Do you think it’s because her groom is missing and she has no reason to keep living?”

  Zeke didn’t really think that was the reason. He glanced at Vernon. “I don’t know, but that’s a good guess. My daadi always said, ‘One should stay alive, if only out of curiosity.’”

  Vernon chuckled.

  Maybe Zeke should talk to her daed. His gaze shifted to Seth Lantz, approaching the buggy with a thunderous expression on his face.

  Because…because Zeke let Gracie jump from a slow-moving vehicle? As if he had any control over the woman?

  Or because Zeke had lost his straw hat and now violated the unspoken Amish dress code?

  Or if Seth Lantz had issues with Zeke’s driving, he needed to watch when Gracie took the reins. That might give him a few more silver hairs.

  Vernon climbed out of the back and approached Seth. “I found your other cow, but she’s stuck and scared and I can’t get her out without help. Gracie went to get a rope.”

  “And she’s probably in pain since she hasn’t been milked.” Seth focused on Vernon, the thunder fading. “Find a log to use for a stool so we can ease some of her discomfort.”

  Vernon nodded and trotted off. Zeke frowned at the flimsy excuse. Just kneeling on the ground would work. Or they could find a log where the cow was.

  Seth’s attention returned to Zeke. His face hardened.

  Zeke tightened his fists around the reins. Or maybe he should’ve released them and slunk from the buggy in shame.

  No. No. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t even kissed the girl when she made that, um, suggestion. He raised his chin. Firmed his shoulders. But a muscle ticked in his jaw.

&nb
sp; “I trusted you with my daughter, Bontrager.”

  A white blur flew past Zeke, and Slush landed beside him on the seat, tongue lolling. He grinned at Zeke and leaned into his shoulder.

  At least the dog still liked him. And was showing his support. Not that it was worth much.

  Zeke managed a wordless nod. He tried to think of something to say other than, “Yes, sir,” like the boys at the boys’ ranch might say when pressured, but in the Amish world that might be considered a bit disrespectful.

  But really, what had he done to violate Seth’s trust?

  “I know your type.” A long silence while Seth stared at Zeke as if unearthing all his hidden secrets.

  Zeke resisted the urge to squirm.

  “Handsome, twinkling blue eyes, a smile that could cause a woman to look twice, a devil-may-care attitude, and the girls turn cartwheels to get your attention.”

  Not hardly, but oh, that was what this was about. Gracie’s foolish stunt getting out of the buggy. Seth thought she was trying to impress him. Zeke opened his mouth.

  “She’s in a fragile place right now.” Seth’s words were almost a growl. Oblivious Daed thought she was mourning? Or did he recognize his daughter’s attraction when she was supposed to be mourning and believe Zeke was encouraging her?

  Worse, brother number twelve stood behind his daed, his muscular arms crossed. At least the other eleven brothers weren’t there, armed with chain saws.

  Except, Gracie wasn’t as fragile as they thought. And…

  Wait. Gracie jumping out of a moving buggy was meant to get his attention?

  Or was it meant to impress Vernon?

  Because other than her driving, she hadn’t done anything else dangerous around him.

  Except maybe to bare her soul. And mention the four-letter word that still seared his thoughts. Kiss.

  So not happening.

  Zeke forced himself to meet Seth’s eyes. “I’ll have a talk with her.” Again. “I already told her and her friend I’m not here to date. But you should know, Hallie isn’t sure, but she thinks she saw Timothy in town. Gracie didn’t want to follow up on it.”

  The husky whined. Dipped his head, then shook it, as if he were shooing the thought away.

  Zeke shared the sentiments.

  Seth stilled, opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it as Gracie ran out of the haus, a coiled clothesline rope in her hand.

  “Let’s go free the cow.” She tossed the rope into the buggy.

  “You’re staying home with your mamm and Patience. And when I get back, we’ll have a chat about your stunt riding,” Seth growled.

  Gracie’s eyes widened. She glanced from Seth to Zeke, then back. But to her credit, she didn’t argue. She simply nodded and headed toward the laundry hanging on the clothesline in the side yard as Vernon came back carrying the stump of a tree. Perfect stool height. Zeke had to give him credit for that. Perfect, like everything else he did…except he wasn’t smart enough to see through the blatant excuse to get him out of the way.

  At Seth’s pointed look, Zeke got out and carried the empty picnic basket to the porch. Slush jumped out and followed, close at his side. He turned as Seth took the reins. Vernon sat beside him, attempting to explain exactly where he found the cow. Jon climbed into the back.

  Zeke hesitated, unsure if they even wanted him to go along. Or if they did, should he grab his bag so they could find someplace else for him to stay, somewhere far away from Gracie?

  Seth peered down at him from the buggy seat. “Go get the pink toolbox and come along, boy.”

  Wow, he certainly was failing with the father figures in this area. Just like at home.

  He retrieved the pink toolbox from the empty kitchen and climbed into the buggy next to Jon. Slush started to crouch to make his leap, but Seth pointed to the ground. “Slush, sit. Stay.”

  The dog whined but obeyed, giving Zeke a mournful look.

  Zeke was tempted to give an equally mournful look to the dog and slouch in the seat, but that would make him look guilty for whatever sins the Lantz men accused him of. Like perhaps encouraging Gracie to be a daredevil. As if that was his fault.

  Somehow, Seth was able to follow Vernon’s rather bumbling directions, and they found the cow. Well, actually, they heard her before they found her. She was wedged in what remained of a shed. Two walls. The other two sides and the roof were missing. A shoelace connected to a man’s work boot was driven into the wall next to her. The cow bawled pitifully from her awkward position of what appeared to be midbuck, her head and forelegs protruding through the wall.

  Seth got the log stump out and set it near the thrashing cow. Vernon grabbed her tail to keep it from slapping their host in the face, and Jon and Zeke went around to the front to survey the situation.

  Zeke rubbed the cow’s nose and spoke softly. “Shhh. It’s okay, Bessie. We’re here to rescue you.”

  “Her name is Cowntess. With a w and not a u.” Jon gave him a sideways glance.

  Zeke grinned. “Grossdaadi?”

  “How’d you guess?” Jon’s eyebrows rose.

  “Gracie told me the horses’ names.” Zeke kept his voice soft and continued rubbing the cow’s head. “I’d love to meet him sometime.”

  “I hear tell that you have. He was working at the school this morning when you arrived.”

  Right. Zeke had forgotten. But that brief encounter hardly counted.

  “The other cow is named Dairy Queen,” Jon said.

  “I guess you have royal cows,” Zeke quipped.

  “They think they are, anyway.” Jon grinned.

  “Whatever you’re doing is calming her. Keep it up,” Seth called from the other side of the wall.

  Zeke continued crooning to the cow while petting her. He quietly sang a few hymns to her. The cow gazed at him with her big brown eyes. Jon took the pink hammer and carefully dismantled the damaged shed around the cow, working to get her free. As soon as Seth finished milking the cow, he murmured instructions to Vernon as they started working on the inside.

  “Step aside,” Seth said. “Go get the rope from the buggy. Too bad I didn’t think to buy a pail when I was in town. Hate to waste the milk, but Cowntess’s comfort is the main thing. I hope she’s not injured.”

  Something crunched on the other side of the wall.

  Jon carefully removed another section of wall as Vernon came around with the clothesline. He handed the rope to Zeke. “Here you go, cow whisperer.”

  Zeke set his lips and glowered at him but slipped the rope around the cow’s neck anyway.

  “Hey, I meant that as a good thing.” Vernon clapped Zeke’s shoulder, as if he were a father figure and not Zeke’s peer.

  Interesting. But at last Cowntess was freed. Jon dropped the hammer and took the rope from Zeke and led her off to the side, away from the pile of wooden rubble to solid footing, where he checked her over for injuries.

  Vernon and Zeke gathered the pink tools Jon had left scattered on the ground and repacked them into the matching toolbox. Then Vernon carried the toolbox to the buggy.

  Seth came through the cow-size hole as Zeke piled the discarded scraps of damaged lumber next to the remains of the shed. The older man planted his dirty work shoes just in Zeke’s peripheral vision.

  Zeke looked up.

  There was a measure of respect in Seth’s eyes. “I misjudged you. I wouldn’t have been able to free the cow without injury if you weren’t there to calm her.”

  Zeke stood. Nodded. If only it were so easy to please his own daed.

  “I was going to ask you to pack your bags—”

  Zeke swallowed. He’d figured so. “I haven’t unpacked yet. I’ll grab my things when we get back.” Maybe he’d be placed with Kiah after all.

  “I changed my mind. As I said earlier, you are good with Patience. Slush likes you, and they say dogs are a good judge of character. You are gentle with animals, and you’ve done what I’ve asked without complaint. It’s just Grace that conc
erns me. Today is her wedding day, and she’s looking at you the way she never has her groom.”

  Zeke opened his mouth, then shut it. It wasn’t his place to tell Seth Gracie’s secrets. And he wasn’t 100 percent sure of what to think of Timothy based on Gracie’s comments and her own behavior. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt her.” At least he thought he had.

  “I’m afraid she might hurt herself.” Seth smiled, but it was weak, fleeting. “Let’s get back. I need to have a talk with her.”

  Zeke nodded, but only because he didn’t know what to say. Hopefully, Gracie would open up to her daed.

  * * *

  Grace folded the cool, clean laundry, but inside her temperature was rising. Why did Daed and Jon have to turn around in time to witness her foolish jump from a moving vehicle for a stupid, childish reason? She wanted Zeke to notice her. To think she was different from other girls. More fun. More…independent.

  And jah, she might be, but Amish men didn’t want different. They wanted a woman who could cook, clean, and bear children while maintaining a quiet, calm persona that would make her a submissive, perfect Amish wife who…

  Ugh. In other words, they wanted what she was not, and worse, she had to go and prove it. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Well, she could cook and clean as well as the next girl. It was the quiet, calm persona she had trouble with.

  She’d better not mention the time she tried trick riding like she’d seen at the fair just to impress a boy. That hadn’t turned out so well. The horse hadn’t understood why she was attempting to stand on his back and had bucked her off. She’d broken her leg in three places and had to spend six weeks in an itchy cast. Daed had told her she was lucky she hadn’t broken her neck.

  She should be grateful that Timothy had noticed her. Wanted to marry her. And did his best to mold her into something she wasn’t. He demanded; she obeyed. Buggy racing was a thing of the past. Sneaking out with Englisch friends and trying to learn how to drive a car…Well, that had ended badly anyway. She’d driven straight into the woods and hit a tree. And her Englisch friends wouldn’t let her try to drive again.

  Though, to be honest, she’d been too scared to try again. Once was enough. A slow-moving buggy pulled by a running horse was much safer than a fast-moving car. And horses had enough sense to avoid trees.