An Amish Wedding

by Kathleen Fuller; Beth Wiseman Kelly Long

  “Okay. I’ll wait until morning to fix it. Keep the pail underneath the leak. If it does rain, that should contain it.”

  Naomi nodded. “For gut measure, I’ll pray there won’t be any rain.”

  “I’ll add my prayers to yours, then.” He put his hands on his narrow hips, his fingers lightly resting on the waistband of his dark blue broadfall pants. “I’ll see if Chester has any leftover shingles and paper at the new haus. If not, I’ll pick some up on my way here tomorrow.”

  “Would you like to come in for some coffee?” Despite the chilly weather, he wore short sleeves. Just looking at him made Naomi hug her own arms.

  He shook his head. “Chester is probably ready to geh by now. He’s supposed to show me the new haus tonight.”

  “All right.” She felt a tiny bit disappointed he had to leave so soon, and she hid a frown. Where did that feeling come from?

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Zeke opened the door and started to leave. But before he stepped outside he turned and faced her. “It’s been a real pleasure meeting you, Naomi.”

  She stilled at his unexpected words. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out the door. She followed him, standing in the middle of the doorway as he made his way to her parents’ house. Was he . . . whistling? A little off-key, but definitely whistling. As she watched him go, she murmured, “Likewise, Zeke Lapp.”

  DESPITE NAOMI’S PRAYERS, IT STARTED RAINING SHORTLY after Zeke left. Showers continued the next morning. Waking up well before sunrise, Naomi groaned when she heard the rain pummeling the daadi haus. She threw on a pale gray dress and white apron, thrust bobby pins into her hair and kapp, and shoved her feet into her black stockings and shoes. A knot formed in her stomach. Had it rained all night? She said a quick prayer that the leak in the roof hadn’t expanded.

  She hurried to the living room, glancing out the front window at the curtain of rain and wind pelting the glass. She turned on the battery-operated lantern on the small end table by her chair and held her breath as she looked at the ceiling. As she feared, the ceiling was sagging even more, and now a steady stream of water flowed from it.

  A chill hung in the room. Naomi shivered, glancing at the coal stove in the opposite corner of the room. She’d hoped to put off lighting it until mid-October. So much for that idea.

  But first she had to tend to the leak. She glanced down at the pail underneath the drip. Water splashed against the rim with every falling drop. She bent down to pick up the bucket.

  Whoosh! The ceiling suddenly gave way.

  ZEKE HAD JUST TIED UP CHESTER’S HORSE AND BUGGY next to Naomi’s barn when he heard a faint cry come from inside the daadi haus. He quickly tied a loose but strong knot in the reins and ran to the building, leaping over puddles and hurdling the three steps leading to the inside. He threw open the door. As he had feared when he woke up to the pounding rain that morning, more water had leaked into the house. Naomi stood right underneath the leak, her dress soaked through, a steady stream of rain falling on her.

  “Z-Zeke?”

  His shin rammed into the side of the couch as he hurried to her. When he reached her, he heard her teeth chattering. Without thinking he pulled her out from under the leak. Quickly he whipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her damp shoulders.

  “Y-your j-jacket,” she said. “I-it’s g-getting wet.”

  “Don’t worry about it. What happened?”

  “Th-the ceiling.”

  He looked up and saw a hole the size of a soup can in the center of the sag. He groaned.

  “Here.” She started to take off his jacket.

  His hands covered hers, stopping her. “Nee. You need it more than I do.”

  The storms over the past two days must have been part of a cold front. He’d noticed the drop in temperature when he’d left his uncle’s house a little while ago. Zeke looked around the living room, dimly lit by the weak light of the lantern. The sun had risen, but the heavy cloud cover prevented much light from coming through the window. He spied a coal stove in the corner of the room. “I’m going to light the stove, okay?”

  “Ya.” She pulled his jacket closer to her, still looking a little shocked. Her white kapp hung limp and askew on her head.

  Zeke saw a basket of newspapers beside the stove. He picked up a sheet and lit it with the handheld lighter he found on a small shelf near the stove. Holding the lit paper high in the flue, he checked to make sure there was an updraft in the chimney. If not, the house would soon be filled with choking smoke. Satisfied when the wisp of smoke wafted up the flue, he put the paper in the stove, added several more layers on top, and waited for them to catch.

  “I can finish that.”

  He turned around at the sound of Naomi’s voice. He hadn’t heard her leave the room, but she had changed into a dry, long-sleeved dress and a light blue kerchief. At least she wasn’t shivering anymore.

  “It’s okay. It will only take a minute.” The newspapers lit quickly. He laid a bed of coal over the glowing embers, then shut the front of the stove and faced Naomi. “I’m so sorry. I should have fixed the roof last night.”

  She shook her head. “It would have been dangerous to do that in the dark, with just a flashlight.”

  “Still, I could have put some plastic over the ceiling. That would have held the water back.”

  “Considering we didn’t have any, I don’t see how you could have.” Naomi walked over to the leak and wiped a droplet of water off the end of her nose.

  Still feeling guilty, he moved beside her and picked up the pail. “I’ll take care of this.” Making sure not to spill any water on the dry part of her wood floor, Zeke carefully carried the pail to the door and tossed the water onto the grass just beyond the front porch. He went back inside and put the pail back under the leak. The rain had started to let up a bit, and the water was now coming down in a thin stream.

  He looked at her. If she was angry, he didn’t blame her. Although he had to admit she looked cute in her kerchief. If he’d been thinking, he would have come back last night with Chester and put something over the hole, instead of counting on the weather report. If he had, the ceiling would have held.

  “I’ll get a mop and clean the floor.”

  Surprised, he turned and looked at her again. More light filtered into the room, revealing her calm expression. If she was mad, she had a strange way of showing it.

  “When Margaret gets here, I’ll have her get started in the kitchen.” She faced him, consumed with the confidence he’d been attracted to from the moment they met. “We won’t have a normal workday, but that’s all right.”

  Zeke couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t be irritated after being doused with cold rainwater. Yet after the initial shock, she now seemed unfazed. He’d never met anyone like her before.

  “Goodness, what happened?”

  Zeke turned around to see a blond-haired woman walk through the open door, her steps hesitant. Physically she was Naomi’s opposite—light blue eyes, fair skin, and about an inch shorter than he was. But both women seemed to be about the same age, which he guessed to be in their early twenties.

  “More problems with the leak,” Naomi said. She crossed her arms over her chest.

  The other woman’s gaze darted to the stream of water coming out of the ceiling. “I can see that. What are you going to do?”

  Zeke listened as Naomi gave the woman, who was apparently her assistant, instructions. Not wanting to interrupt, he slipped past them and went outside to the buggy. The rain seemed to have lightened up. If it stopped completely he could get up on the roof and replace the tar paper and missing shingles. But until then, he’d have to make a quick repair job inside using the plastic sheeting he’d gotten from Chester that morning. He slipped on his tool belt, then grabbed his supplies.

  When he went back inside, Naomi had disappeared. The blond woman stood by the stove, holding her hands above it.

  “Where’s Naomi?” he asked.<
br />
  “Getting a mop. Downstairs. I was just trying to get warm.” She looked at her feet for a moment, then met his gaze again. “I’m Margaret,” she said, her voice cracking on the last syllable of her name.

  “Zeke Lapp.” He didn’t mean to sound curt, but he wanted to repair the ceiling. “Do you know if Naomi has a stool or an old chair I could stand on?”

  “Sure. It’s in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

  A few moments later he climbed on the small step stool. He glanced at Margaret, who watched. “Could you give me a hand?”

  “Sure!” She hurried over to him. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Hold this,” he said, giving her the plastic sheeting. He grabbed three nails out of one of the pockets of his tool belt, then slipped the hammer from its leather loop on the other side of the belt. “Now hand me the plastic.”

  He couldn’t be sure, but when she gave him the plastic, he thought he heard her giggle. He glanced down at her and stifled a sigh. Being one of the few bachelors in his community had made him a target for single females between the ages of nineteen and thirty. He’d heard that shy giggle more than once. Naomi, hurry up! He had come to Paradise for his cousin’s wedding, not to find a wife.

  Chapter Three

  NAOMI CLASPED HER FINGERS AROUND THE HANDLE OF the mop, grateful that the roof had collapsed when it did. If it had happened during the winter, the small stove wouldn’t do much to keep the house warm, not with cold air and possibly snow coming through the ceiling. As she made her way from the back porch to the front room, she thought about how Zeke’s coat had felt around her chilly body. She had breathed in the mix of scents emanating from the sturdy, dark blue fabric. A smoky wood smell, as if the coat had been hung in front of a fire to dry. The underlying aroma of coffee, which made sense when she saw the small brown stain on the lapel as she took the coat off to change. And a scent she couldn’t identify, but one that had triggered another shiver through her body. One that had nothing to do with being cold.

  A pounding sound came from the front room. Knowing that even in the rain she might have customers soon, she quickened her steps. When she walked into the living room, she saw Margaret beside Zeke. He stood on tiptoe on a footstool, hammering a corner of a plastic tarp over the hole in the ceiling while Margaret held the other end. The rain had ceased, but water still dribbled, making hollow plinking sounds against the plastic.

  Naomi started to ask if they needed help. Then she saw the look on Margaret’s face as she gazed up at Zeke. And remembered her promise.

  “Can you hand me the other end?” Zeke said to Margaret. She complied, and in a few moments he had the hole secured. He stepped down off the stool.

  Naomi watched Margaret follow Zeke to the stove, never taking her eyes off him. Zeke tossed a few more pieces of coal into the stove and shut the door. Margaret moved in close and said something, but Naomi couldn’t make out the words. Zeke turned to her, giving her the same polite, charming grin he’d given Naomi when they first met.

  For the briefest of moments, something ugly twisted inside her. She ignored it as Zeke walked toward her, again with Margaret in tow.

  “That plastic should keep the leak at bay,” he said. “Now that the rain has stopped I’ll get up on the roof and fix the flashing.”

  “But the roof’s wet,” Margaret said, her eyes growing wide with concern. “You could slip and fall.”

  Naomi had the same thoughts. Yet before she could say anything, Zeke shook his head. “I’ve been on all kinds of roofs. Wet ones, icy ones. I’ll be careful.” He kept his hazel eyes on Naomi as he spoke. Then he flashed her a smile and went outside.

  As soon as he disappeared, Margaret moved right next to her. “Where did he come from?” Excitement edged her tone. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  “He’s Chester’s cousin. He arrived from Middlefield, Ohio, yesterday.” She looked at her friend, noting her dreamy expression. Whatever ugliness had appeared in Naomi’s heart, it wasn’t there now. Margaret was smitten.

  “He’s very schee. And nice.” Margaret’s smile dipped. “I don’t know why I’m even talking about him. A mann like him would never give me the time of day.”

  “You don’t know that. He could be thinking about you right now.” She put her hand on Margaret’s forearm, wishing her friend wasn’t so down on herself. “I think we should find out if he is.”

  “But how? It’s not like I can just walk up to him and ask him out on a date.”

  “Leave that to me,” Naomi said. She heard the thud of Zeke’s footsteps on the roof. She hoped he would keep his promise and not do anything reckless. Somehow she knew he would stay safe.

  NORMALLY ZEKE MAINTAINED SINGULAR FOCUS WHEN he was working on a roof. Any loss of concentration could result in his slipping and falling off the slanted surface. But despite his attempts at paying attention to tacking down the tar paper, he couldn’t get his mind off Naomi.

  He put two tacks in his mouth and positioned the tar paper in place. He’d spent the last twelve years of his life praying for God to bring the right woman along. When he was younger his prayers weren’t exactly earnest—he was too busy working and didn’t mind being single. But in the past couple of years, the loneliness had caught up with him.

  Seeing his siblings, his friends, even men he didn’t know married and with children triggered a bit of desperation inside him. Yet despite his desire to find a wife, he wouldn’t settle for just any woman. Not because he had to have the most beautiful one, or the finest caretaker, or even the best cook—although being able to cook was a plus. He wanted his marriage to be blessed by the Lord, and influenced by Christ in every way. He trusted that God would let him know who the right woman was. He wasn’t sure how, but he had faith. And so far he hadn’t felt anything for the women he had met.

  Until now.

  The hammer came down on his thumb. “Ow!”

  Thanks for the reminder, Lord. I’ll pay attention to my work from now on.

  He managed to shove Naomi out of his mind for a few moments. A buzzing sounded in his ears. He assumed it was a fly. He waved the pest off and started hammering again. Then he felt a sharp pain on the side of his neck. He slapped his hand against his skin, only to feel another stinging sensation on his left leg. Turning, he dropped his hammer. Hornets! He leapt up as several more stung him. He skidded down the roof, batting at the hornets. “Ow!”

  “Zeke? What’s wrong?”

  He saw Naomi when he got to the edge of the roof. “Hornets!” he yelled. One stung him on the cheek. His foot slipped on the eave.

  “Zeke!”

  He regained his balance, then was stung again as he clambered down the ladder, his tool belt slapping against his waist. “Inside,” he gasped. “Quick!”

  They both ran inside and shut the door. Zeke leaned against it, his breath hitching.

  “Are you okay?” Her hand rested on her chest, her soft brown eyes round.

  Suddenly he felt every single hornet sting at once. He shook his head, closing his eyes against the pain.

  She ran up to him and grasped his arm. “How many times did you get stung? Never mind, we’ll find out.” When they reached the kitchen she led him to a chair. “I need a bowl, baking soda, and a glass of water.”

  “What happened?” Margaret asked, retrieving the items.

  “Hornet stings.” Naomi leaned over and looked at Zeke. “One on your face for sure. Where else?”

  “Neck. Arm. Leg.”

  She nodded, then turned around as Margaret put the bowl on the table. In a few seconds Naomi had mixed the baking soda and water into a paste. She took some in the palm of her hand and dipped her finger in it. She applied it to the sting on his face with a gentle, confident touch.

  Despite the pain, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she continued to apply the thick white paste to his neck. She was even prettier up close.

  “You’ve been stung before, ya?”

  He nodded. “Not like
this.” He held up his forearm. A bright red dot appeared among the dark hairs.

  “Are you feeling okay, other than the pain?” She paused, a thick coating of baking soda paste on her finger. “Dizzy? Nauseous?”

  “Nee. The stings are enough.”

  A knock sounded on the front door. “I’ll take care of whoever it is,” Margaret said.

  “I haven’t had a chance to put anything out,” Naomi told her.

  “It’s all right. I’ll tell the customer what we have.” Margaret disappeared from the kitchen.

  Naomi turned her attention back to Zeke. “Where else did you get stung?”

  He pointed to a spot under his collarbone. Already the pain had started to ease. The paste was doing the trick.

  She moved her paste-covered finger toward his shirt, then paused, her cheeks suddenly turning red.

  He looked down. His shirt collar was open, making it easy for her to slip her hand underneath the fabric and apply the paste. Instead he reached for the bowl. “I can get the rest of them, Naomi.”

  “Ya.” She stepped back, then hurried to the sink to wash her hands, not looking at him. He quickly put the paste on the stings on his chest. The one on his thigh would just have to do without. When he set the bowl on the table, she turned off the tap and dried her hands. She walked toward him, handing him the towel. He wiped off his fingers.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea there was a hornets’ nest up there.”

  “I’m not sure there was.” He looked at her, touched by her concern. “They seemed to come out of nowhere.” He took off his damp hat and tapped it against his other hand.

  “I’m glad you weren’t stung more. Do they still hurt?”

  “Not too bad. Don’t worry, I’m fine.” A different kind of warmth traveled through him as he met her relieved gaze. “I’ll figure out where that nest is and finish up the roof.” He started to stand.

  “You don’t have to do that now.” She put her hand on his arm, then jerked it back. “I mean, I don’t want you to get stung again.”