The Amish Wedding Promise

by Laura V. Hilton

  “Aw, how sweet. I guess I’ll meet him when I get off work.” Hallie glanced from her grandparents to the clock again. “I’ll feed the chickens and gather the eggs, then get ready to go. Unless you think the little boy would like to go out with one of our neighbor’s younger children to see the chickens.”

  “I’ll hitch up the horse and buggy for you,” Daadi muttered as he headed out to the barn.

  “He’s not so lit—”

  “Good morning.” A strange voice entered the conversation. Male. Must be the preacher. Hallie forced a polite smile and turned to stare at a handsome, beardless man with green eyes and dark-blond hair. He held a straw hat in one hand. He most definitely wasn’t a preacher. He’d have her undivided attention if he stood behind a pulpit. Something odd and unexpected pinged her heart. And for a moment—a very brief moment—interest flared.

  She steeled herself. Despite her crazy unwritten wishes and her prayer, she needed to guard her heart.

  He looked familiar, as if she’d seen him before. She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out where. When.

  A spark of recognition flashed in his baby, uh, greens. So they had met. He smiled. “I remember you. Holly, right? But you said you’re not a Christmas baby.”

  “Hallie. Not Holly,” she corrected automatically. But oh. That explained where and when. Her forced smile died. Six months ago, he was in town as a volunteer after the tornado…during the most terrible time of her life. Toby’s funeral.

  His smile widened. He winked. “Holly and Hallie sound the same to me. But I would love to help you collect eggs.”

  And he was a flirt. Lovely. Just lovely. She ignored Mamm’s not-so-subtle head tilt toward the door that urged her to take the boy out to the barn and to be polite. She didn’t have the patience today. Unfortunately, she’d have to put up with flirts all morning at her waitressing job. Most of them were retired, traveling with their significant other, and harmless. There were always a few she had to watch out for, though. The ones who reached out to pat, touch, or pinch waitresses in inappropriate places. She shuddered.

  The green-eyed man’s smile faded.

  “I forgot your name.” She glanced at Mamm, who frowned at her with narrowed eyes while beating batter for pancakes; then she made an effort to be polite. “I mean, nice to meet you. Um, make that welcome to the area.”

  “Danki.” His lips quirked. “Hezekiah Esh, at your service. My friends call me Kiah.”

  They weren’t friends. Not even close. But his name…Her heart lurched as she thought of the stack of letters hidden in her locked hope chest upstairs, forwarded to her by The Budget, all written by Kiah Esh. Letters she’d responded to, using her initials. Maybe they were friends. Secretly. So secret he didn’t even know. At least he didn’t know her in person.

  Mammi adjusted her trifocals and tapped nearer with her wheelless walker. She peered up into Kiah’s face, reached her hands up to touch his cheeks, and studied him. Then she pinched his cheeks before she released him and patted his arm. “So you’re the one who’s going to marry our Hallie.”

  Kiah’s eyes bugged, and he spluttered, then coughed.

  Hallie’s face burned. She stared at the floor. At least Mammi had good taste in men. But oh what Kiah must think. “I need to go to work.” No point in trying to correct Mammi. She wouldn’t understand.

  “What about the eggs?” Kiah’s voice sounded somewhat strangled.

  “You can collect them with my sister.” Hallie pushed past them.

  Her arm brushed against Kiah’s as she passed. Weird sparks shot through her. An electrical charge? She shook her head and went upstairs.

  Kiah’s last letter, one she hadn’t responded to, had said he would be coming to Hidden Springs, Illinois, and he wanted to meet her—GHB. He hadn’t said when. Or where he’d be staying. And if only she’d known so she could have been better prepared. But too late now. She’d have to make the best of it and make sure he’d never find his mystery girl.

  Because the safest place to hide was in plain sight.

  * * *

  Kiah turned away from the disconcerting mammi and watched Hallie hightail it for the stairs—the ones he’d just come down. Intriguing girl—and he’d felt sparks when they’d accidentally touched—but he wasn’t interested. He’d fallen in love, sight unseen, with the scribe for The Budget. He just had to find out her real name and then convince her she was the one he’d been waiting for. Or he was the one she was waiting for.

  Her real name—would it be Gabby? Gizelle? Gina? Gail? Whatever the G in GHB stood for, he’d find her. And woo her.

  Of course, that would be assuming she was young and not married to someone else.

  His mamm said it was pure craziness, because the scribe was probably eighty if a day. But the handwriting in her return letters didn’t look old. Daed shook his head in wonder or dismay and called it a “wild goose chase,” because if she were available and interested, she would’ve told him her name. And maybe they were right. But he wanted to find out for himself.

  He turned back to the kitchen to face the unsettling mammi and the now pancake-frying mamm. He cleared his throat. “I’m not on the market, but Hallie seems like a really nice girl. I’m actually already involved with someone else from this area. Perhaps you know her? She writes for The Budget, and her name starts with a G. GHB.”

  Both women stared at him. The mamm’s mouth gaped, her eyes wide, startled. A measure of doubt clouded Kiah’s vision. Maybe G was married.

  The troubling and bothersome mammi cackled. “Talk to Hallie,” the older woman said, with a gleam in her eyes.

  Right. Because she believed he was going to marry Hallie. But then again, maybe Hallie would know where to find G.

  A floorboard creaked, and Kiah turned to see Mamm and Daed emerging from the hallway. And Hallie coming downstairs, carrying her purse.

  “Hi.” Hallie greeted his parents with an overly polite smile. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m running late for work. I’m looking forward to getting to know you this afternoon.”

  Kiah didn’t think she meant it. She’d sounded too sugary sweet. And she didn’t quite make eye contact. He caught her mamm’s frown.

  Hallie’s smile faded as she skittered past Kiah with her head dipped, gaze down, and careful not to brush against him. So she must’ve felt the sparks, too. Interesting. The scent of lavender trailed her.

  “My husband’s in the barn,” the pancake-frying mamm said.

  Daed nodded. “Come, Kiah. We can make ourselves useful.”

  Kiah put his straw hat on and followed Daed and Hallie out of the haus. A small barn stood on the other side of the circular driveway. The air smelled fresh, as if they’d had a heavy dew overnight. There were no noticeable signs of the terrible twisters that’d touched down with destructive damage six months ago. A horse and buggy were already waiting, ready to go, in front of the porch. Hallie put her purse on the seat and climbed in.

  Kiah stopped beside the buggy, adjusting his hat to better see Hallie. If he wasn’t already so heart connected to the scribe, he might have been tempted by the beautiful woman. Or at least have accepted the challenge to break through her odd reserve around him. But he’d been different since the tornado, which led him to write to the scribe in the first place.

  He gazed up at her. “Can we talk later?”

  She paled. Shifted. Odd response. “I might be working a double shift.”

  “Whenever you get home is fine. Your mammi suggested I talk to you about some information I need.”

  Her glance darted toward the door and then back. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then shut it. She shook her head and muttered something he didn’t catch. Probably something about her crazy mammi. His heart sunk to realize the woman might have steered him in the wrong direction, and yet he couldn’t leave a possible avenue unexplored. Hallie clicked her tongue.

  The horse slowly took a step forward.

  Kiah took a step back to avoid getting run
over. “Your mammi thinks you might know someone in this district with the initials GHB.”

  Hallie frowned and gazed over his head as if she was thinking. When she glanced at him again, her expression could only be called a smirk. “George Harold Beiler.” She wiggled the reins and drove off.

  A man?

  Kiah mentally reviewed the handwriting. It was neat. Beautiful. But then some men had pretty writing. Kiah’s best friend, Zeke, who’d recently married, had great handwriting. He said it was because he had to read his measurements.

  But the writing had looked feminine.

  And at least one of the return letters had used lavender ink. Not a usual male color choice.

  Hallie’s daed stood in the wide-open doorway of the barn watching his daughter drive away. He shook his head as his gaze shifted to Kiah. His head tilted as if he was sizing him up. He gave a tiny nod as if Kiah had passed some pop quiz. “She works as a waitress in town. I’ll give you directions later if you want to go, order a slice of pie and conversation.”

  Did he think Hallie knew who GHB was, too?

  Or…Kiah cringed. What was wrong with the woman that she needed so many obvious matchmakers?

  * * *

  Sometimes it seemed as if the breakfast crowd never left before the lunch crowd arrived. The Friday-morning coffee club had filled every seat in the entire overflow dining section. Hallie refilled coffee mugs innumerable times, dodged the expected and inevitable wandering fingers, and delivered breakfasts, doughnuts, pastries, and pies. Now she was left with messy tables, sticky chairs, and a floor that needed sweeping and scrubbing.

  At least the coffee club left good tips.

  She filled a gray tub to overflowing with dirty dishes, hoisted it up in her arms, and turned to deliver them to the dish room.

  And there, in plain sight, was Kiah, legs kicked out under a small table, an infuriating grin on his oh-so-handsome face.

  Her heart lurched. Why did he have to be so appealing? So handsome?

  His green eyes met hers. “Service, please.” Somehow he managed to infuse the words with enough humor that it wasn’t an order but more teasing. Teasing like Toby used to do. But Kiah didn’t resemble Toby at all. He was light where Toby was dark. Really, Kiah was much more handsome. Did they have the same sense of humor? The same careless ease appeared to be there, and Kiah’s presence rubbed salt on the wounds of her loss. However, the man in the letters had an unexpected depth revealed there. Was it possible this teasing flirt had actually written those letters?

  Her lips quirked before she caught the involuntary movement and stiffened them. She liked his teasing. Liked his boldness. It made a part of her heart come to life, as if his humor had slipped through a crack in her sheltered and barricaded heart just like that sliver of sun through the curtain. She couldn’t allow it to gain any more ground. “This section is closed until the other dining room overflows.” She tilted her head toward the exit.

  “When I asked where you were, your boss told me to come back here. She said it was so nice to meet your new boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend? She used to have a boyfriend. Not anymore. Had he introduced himself that way, or had her boss merely assumed that any young man asking for her must be a boyfriend?

  “What’s with all these people matching us up?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t like it.” Hallie shifted the heavy tub and sighed. If her boss sent Kiah back here, Hallie had no choice but to let him stay. She needed to think up more GHB names to “help” him. If he only knew…“I’ll be right back to take your order.”

  “Coffee and a slice of pie for both of us. I don’t care what kind. Your boss said to tell you to take a break. I ordered fifteen minutes of conversation, too.”

  He ordered conversation? That could be done? Hallie frowned at him, but she could see how he charmed her boss into giving her an unscheduled break. That smile? That dimple? Those good looks?

  However, she wasn’t in the mood for either coffee or pie. She was in the mood to be contrary. She carried the tub to the dish room and returned with a cup of coffee, a slice of caramel apple pie, a glass of cola with ice, and a bowl filled with grapes, apple and orange slices, and strawberries. She set the coffee and pie in front of him, then set her cola and fruit on the opposite side of the table before sitting across from him.

  “Oh, it does feel good to sit down.” If only she could kick off her shoes and socks. “I may not get up again.” She only half joked, because she hadn’t been able to find her shoes this morning and had borrowed her younger sister’s sneakers. They pinched, and she’d definitely have blisters.

  Kiah studied her name tag. “Your name really isn’t Holly.” As if he hadn’t believed her. “H-a-l-l-i-e. That’s an odd spelling. What’s your given name?”

  “You don’t go by your given name. How do you spell Kiah?” No way would she share her real name.

  “Touché.” But his gaze remained fixed on her name tag. “Hal is short for Henry. Is your name Henrietta?”

  “Good guess.” But wrong, wrong, wrong. Her name was Hallelujah. She took a sip of her cola and tried not to smirk.

  “Henrietta, in the attempt of full disclosure, I am here to find the woman I love.”

  She tried not to react. But…“Hallie, please. Not Henrietta.” She’d forget to answer. “And is your girlfriend lost?”

  He picked up his fork and toyed with the pie. “I only know her initials. GHB. And that she’s a scribe for The Budget. Good thing I like puzzles.” He chuckled. “Unfortunately, I’m not very good at them. Can you help me find her?”