Timothy’s expression didn’t change. Well, maybe it did. It darkened and mixed with hurt. Acute betrayal.
Zeke found his pajama pants. Stuffed them in the bag. There. All packed. Except for his toothbrush.
A clatter came from the kitchen. Followed by a crash.
Gracie pushed past Timothy and ran.
Timothy stared another moment before he turned away to follow Gracie.
Zeke collapsed on the edge of the bed, closed his eyes, and waited for the ax to fall.
The line was drawn in quicksand.
And he’d crossed it.
Willingly.
And for just a moment, he’d had a taste of heaven. Of his dream future.
One that was lost to him forever.
Chapter 27
Grace dashed into the kitchen to find the iron skillet on the floor in front of the stove, halfway between Mammi and a Mennonite man she didn’t know standing in the open doorway. Another man who appeared to be Amish stood in the shadows behind him. And behind the second man, Vernon. Mammi stared, unmoving, holding a rolling pin as a weapon. Had she dropped the iron skillet when the men appeared, or had she flung the iron skillet at the man? Or men? More importantly, had Mammi lost her mind?
Grace bent and picked up the skillet, setting it on the stove. She turned to the men. Someone had to be hospitable. She winced at the memory of Vernon’s last words and threats and the realization these men might be here to send Zeke home, especially if Vernon’s self-satisfied smirk was any indication. She added a quick prayer for sanity since this situation couldn’t get any weirder with Zeke’s kisses still burning her lips, Timothy upstairs, and Mammi threatening violence. Although, she’d like to toss the skillet at Vernon and knock the smirk off his face, too. But instead of being impulsive, she took the high road and pretended everything was fine. “May I help you?”
The first man didn’t look away from Mammi. Apparently she was the larger threat. “Daniel Zook, miss. We’re here to speak with Ezekiel Bontrager.”
Oh. Judging by the first man’s grim expression and Vernon’s folded arms, it wasn’t for a good reason, either.
Could she lie and say he wasn’t here? She picked up the clean clothes, returned them to the laundry basket, and moved it to a chair.
But no. Lying would be a sin, and not only that, Vernon was here and he’d know…not to mention Mammi would scold her for telling falsehoods.
“Um, take a seat on the porch,” Grace said. It was chilly outside, but since Mammi was armed with a rolling pin and possibly throwing dangerous frying pans, it somehow seemed the best place for them. “I’ll get him.”
“I’ll get him,” Timothy said rather sharply.
Grace whirled to see him standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She fought a giggle at how absurd this whole situation was turning out to be. If only now she could be dreaming. But no. Instead, storm clouds gathered, dark and scary looking, on her personal horizon.
The look Timothy gave her was downright possessive. As if now that he’d caught her in an embrace with another man he suddenly found her desirable. But now that she’d had that embrace, she could never say the same about Timothy.
Lord, get us through this storm. And if I can marry the man I love, I’ll never doubt Your ability to calm storms again. A weird sense of peace in the middle of it filled her.
She puffed out a breath. “Danki, because I have pies to make.” Despite the faint sense of peace, she desperately grasped for some anchor of normal in the middle of this swirling storm.
Timothy nodded and turned away, retreating upstairs. The three men returned outside. And instantly, she had more breathing room.
“Oh, and Mammi? Daadi Cliff sent ground lamb for supper. I think Bishop Nathan is coming because daadi requested cherry pies.”
And oh, please, Lord, let me have a chance to talk to him before Timothy does.
She set the package of meat beside Mammi on the counter.
Mammi made some sort of weird noise and didn’t move. She kept staring at the porch window. The men were still visible, making themselves comfortable on the porch furniture.
“Mammi?” Grace waved a hand in front of her face to end the statue pose.
Mammi shook her head. Hard, as if to clear it. “Bishop Nathan. Right. He’s especially fond of shepherd’s pie.”
“Daadi Cliff requested a few cherry pies, too. I’ll get started on that,” Grace repeated, in case Mammi hadn’t heard her the first time. She carried the canister of flour over to the table.
Timothy appeared in the doorway. His gaze pinned Grace’s. “I told Zeke some guys are here for him, but he’s taking a shower first. Hopefully, it’s a cold one.”
Grace’s face burned.
Mammi ignored him. “How many did Cliff invite for dinner exactly?”
“I don’t know,” Grace said.
“Me.” Timothy pointed to his chest. “He said Gracie and I need to talk about our wedding plans.” He raised a brow.
Grace sagged and braced her hands on the table. A storm raged to life inside her, a roaring noise in her ears just like that tornado, twisting, twirling, and wreaking havoc. A flash flood threatened to flow from her eyes. Dear Jesus, no. Please calm the storm. She hadn’t actually thought of Patience’s prayer until it emerged.
She closed her eyes for a moment as the prayer emerged, then opened them to look the source of the storm in the eye.
“And I can see we have plenty to talk about,” Timothy added glumly, maybe a bit of hurt in his voice, still staring at Grace. There was also a glint of jealousy in his eyes and a silent promise of punishment or a lecture later that she rebelled against.
“Jah, we do.” Grace opened her mouth to let loose with a torrent of words, starting with the obvious Where have you been, and why did you pretend—
Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.
A verse from Psalms dammed the words on her tongue.
Be still? When Zeke had told her to talk to Timothy and she had so much she wanted to say. Not the least being, Please, let me go. Release me.
Timothy sat at the table and stared at her. He said not a word.
But then, neither did she. At least not verbally. She dumped ingredients in the bowl and mixed the dough. She still didn’t have any answers. She picked up Mammi’s rolling pin weapon and applied it to the dough. Be still. Impulsive is so much easier. She bit her lip and pressed down; then a noise caught her attention.
Zeke emerged, hair damp, in clean clothes, and carrying his packed bag.
Her heart lurched, and the storm swirled again. Oh, dear Lord…
“They’re on the back porch,” Timothy said.
Zeke stopped, shook Timothy’s hand. “I wish you every happiness.”
He glanced at Mammi, who’d finally started to brown the ground lamb, then looked at Grace. “Danki for your hospitality.”
Timothy snorted.
Shadows filled Zeke’s eyes as he gazed at Grace. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his jaw firmed. “I’ll think of you on Thursday. I’ll, um, never forget you.” His voice was raw.
She whimpered. Only their audience kept her from launching herself at him. And that was by a badly fraying thread.
Is this it, Lord? Did you want me to come to a complete and total end of myself? Well, I have. Now what? Will you finally calm the storm, or will it be like the other two times when the tornado destroyed our barn and Jon almost died? How am I supposed to be still? How are You exalted in any of this? She’d prayed the first part of the prayer twice before, but He hadn’t answered. There was no reason to expect He would now. Well, the tornado had postponed the wedding and brought Zeke here, but what good did that do her now?
Tears blurred her eyes as Zeke moved toward the door.
A car pulled into the driveway and parked behind the missionary’s van.
Zeke stepped outside.
Grace gulped and ran after hi
m, ignoring the floury mess on her hands. If there were some way of stopping this…
Daed emerged from the van. He paid the driver, then stooped to pick up Timothy’s rusty green bicycle from where it lay in the yard. He pushed it far enough to lean it against the haus.
Slush howled and ran from the barn, launching himself at Zeke as the driver left.
And Zeke stumbled to a stop as he glanced at the trio waiting on the porch. “Daed?”
Chapter 28
This was worse than Zeke had thought. His behavior had brought Daed to Illinois to berate him among strangers. He cringed, glancing from Daed’s irritated grimace to Vernon’s perpetual smirk to stern Daniel Zook. Hopefully, they would try to make his scolding less public. At least away from Gracie. He didn’t want her witnessing the harsh words. He wanted her final memories of him to be positive, with them laughing, teasing, kissing…
He sighed as he dropped his bag, ran a hand over the dog’s head, then turned to Seth, postponing the inevitable. “Danki for your hospitality, Seth. I hope Jon is doing okay?” He wished he’d be around to know Jon had fully recovered. Maybe Cliff or Gracie would write and let him know. He hated leaving behind the man who could have been like a brother or friend, although not as much as he hated leaving Gracie.
Seth climbed up on the porch. “He’s showing some involuntary hand movements. And he opened his eyes briefly.”
“Oh, praise Gott,” Gracie murmured behind Zeke. He stepped to the side so she could see more than his back.
“His mamm insisted on staying again tonight, but I needed to pick up a few things here and then I’ll head back in the morning. Plus, my daed said there was something I needed to be here for.” Seth’s gaze landed on Zeke’s packed bag. “Are you boys leaving us?”
That would seem obvious. Zeke gulped and glanced at Vernon leaning against the porch railing.
Daed stood, extending his hand. “Ezekiel’s father, Elias.”
Seth shook it. “Seth Lantz. What can I do for you gentlemen?” He eyed Daniel Zook, where he sat on a bench, with a confused frown.
Daniel Zook opened his mouth but shut it again as a buggy rolled in, and Cliff and Bishop Nathan emerged.
Oh no—more people to witness Zeke’s disgraceful expulsion. At least his allies were now equal in number to his judges, until they hear of the most recent kiss. And with Timothy sitting inside and the door wide open, they surely would.
Cliff glanced at Timothy’s bike as he bustled up on the porch. “Oh good, we’re all here. Send Timothy out and let the party begin! Gracie, are those pies done?”
Party? This was no party. Zeke frowned.
“No.” She sounded stressed. “I sort of got sidetracked, but—”
“Well, get in there and make them. This doesn’t involve you.” Cliff pointed toward the door.
“It does involve me,” Grace objected.
Zeke glanced at her. Please, obey your daadi. The dog nuzzled him, and he looked down at a smiling Slush. As if there were something to smile about. “I don’t want Gracie to hear this.” His shame would only be compounded if she witnessed it. And why did Timothy need to be here? So he could gloat over emerging the victor? It was hard enough for Zeke to have wished him happiness. But also, what about the audience of Vernon smugly watching? That was bad enough.
Gracie touched his arm, sending fire to his heart. Oh, the ache. “But—”
“Go inside, Gracie,” Cliff reiterated.
She made a frustrated and hurt sound but went inside. The door didn’t click, though, so she must’ve left it open a crack.
Zeke glanced at Daed.
And…and was that a smile?
He blinked and looked again.
It was.
When was the last time Daed smiled at him? Certainly, he’d never smiled when Zeke had messed up, which was more often than not.
That smile. Oh, how he’d missed it and the relationship they used to have. If only he could feel his father’s love again.
Slush nudged him, knocking Zeke off-balance. He took a step, and then something propelled him forward—an almost physical pressure against his back.
Daed met him halfway.
Zeke almost cried as Daed folded him against his chest.
When was the last time they’d embraced?
Zeke might’ve clung.
“I love you, son. I’m proud of you.”
Proud? Of what? And who told him something good, because it definitely couldn’t be smug Vernon. Zeke rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he was dreaming.
The door creaked open, then slammed shut behind them. “You requested my presence?” Timothy sounded a bit cocky.
It wasn’t a dream. Zeke released Daed and half turned. Maybe what he’d thought was a nightmare humiliation might not be so bad after all. No matter what happened next, at least he’d heard those amazing words from Daed’s lips, and he had one reason to celebrate today, even if nothing else turned out well.
Slush growled.
“Shut up, dog.” There was a bit of that wild I need a fix light in Timothy’s eyes.
“Slush.” Zeke crouched. The dog leaned into him.
The bishop coughed and pulled a hot-pink, zippered cell phone case out of his pocket. The one Zeke had found in the underwear-strewn field. Bishop Nathan glanced from Cliff to Seth as he handed the colorful plastic-protected phone to Timothy, who winced. Paled. His hands shook as he took the phone.
Zeke’s stomach dropped. Even without the text message open, Timothy obviously recognized the phone, and that alone convicted him of wrongful behavior toward his intended bride…Oh, and based on their cafeteria conversation, this other woman Timothy loved wouldn’t let him into her new apartment. Zeke’s heart hurt for Timothy. He had some explaining to do—explaining that might postpone or cancel the wedding.
Bishop Nathan frowned. “We need to talk about this and a few other things, Timothy. Come with me to the barn. Seth, please join us.”
Cliff nodded at Seth. “I’ve got the rest of this conversation, son. Go with the bishop and keep your mind on Gott.”
Timothy’s hands shook harder. He dropped the phone.
Seth picked up the phone, handed it to the bishop, but frowned at Cliff. “Daed, what is going on?”
Jah, exactly. Was this a dream or reality? Zeke ran his hand over Slush’s head. What was going on? Something that might result in Gracie being set free. Please, Lord.
“We’re clearing the storm-muddied waters, son,” Cliff said. “Now, go do your part.”
Those storm-muddied waters were crashing over Zeke in waves that gave him moments of hope mixed with equal parts of terror.
“Come, Timothy.” Bishop Nathan gave him a stern look, turned, and headed to the barn.
After a moment, Timothy followed. Except, he stopped and grasped his bicycle handles. Straightened it. Started to swing his leg over.
Seth grabbed Timothy’s shoulder. “To. The. Barn. Now.”
Timothy stumbled, dropped the bike, and obeyed.
Except, he pulled what might be a homemade cigarette out of his pocket. Lit it.
After a moment, the breeze brought the unmistakable odor of marijuana to the men on the porch. Hopefully, Gott would show Timothy a way up from rock bottom and help him get the help he so desperately needed.
Seth grabbed the joint, threw it on the ground, and crushed it with his shoe. He said something Zeke couldn’t hear to Timothy, then picked the crushed cigarette up and carried it into the barn. Probably to show to the bishop. As if there weren’t enough evidence against Timothy already. Just like there was plenty of evidence that Zeke had crossed the line and broken trust.
Zeke patted the dog one last time, then stood. “I suppose we should go. It was nice getting to know you, Cliff.” He swallowed a sob, grabbed his bag, and moved toward Cliff and the stairs.
Cliff grabbed him by both arms. “Stop right there, boy. We aren’t done with you.”
“Have a seat, Zeke.” Daniel Zook pointed to an
empty chair across from Vernon—which would put Zeke in the hot seat.
He grimaced. “Do we have to do this here?”
“Sit.” Cliff gave a gentle shove.
Zeke sat. And tried to keep his eyes on Jesus and find that same peace he’d felt yesterday over there in the partially built barn when he prayed with the missionaries. He shifted his gaze back to the man in front of him. He’d take his punishment like a man.
Daniel Zook leaned forward. “So, I heard from Vernon—”
“Yes, sir. And I’m sorry—”
“There is no rule against a girl developing a crush on you. Especially since you didn’t date her. Although I did hear the story of her kissing you.” Daniel Zook glanced at Cliff and smiled slightly.
Zeke’s face heated.
Daed chuckled.
“From what I understand from reports coming in to the rescue/relief center, everyone loved you, while”—he glanced at the silent Vernon still leaning against the railing—“Vernon kept complaining about being stuck with jobs like finding lost cows.”
Zeke had wished he’d had that job over washing a dog or fixing a mailbox with a pink hammer. To think they’d been jealous of each other’s jobs.
Daniel Zook nodded at Vernon. “I already had a heart-to-heart talk with Vernon about reasons for the assignments, motives, and jealousy.”
Vernon squirmed.
In what universe did perfect Vernon get the lecture? And how that must have stung!
Wait. Everyone loved him? Zeke didn’t know quite what to say to that. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a loser as he’d thought. But would they still love him if they knew how he’d kissed Grace upstairs? How he’d hoped Timothy wouldn’t be found so Grace was free?
Daed reclaimed his seat next to Daniel Zook and clasped his hands over his knees. “Back home, I was getting phone messages from Daniel Zook reporting how you saved a man from falling off his roof. How you comforted a grieving man. How you rescued a family stuck in a storm shelter. Positive comments from everyone here. Seth called. Cliff called. Then Vernon called, and I knew I had to come.”
Zeke cringed. So, all the positives were lined up on one side, and it only took one voice from home to erase it all.
The Amish Wedding Promise Page 24