Courting Her Secret Heart

by Mary Davis

  Two months ago, she might have considered his offer, but now it just sounded ridiculous, and not just because of her mutter’s conditions. There was Amos, too. “Leave? I can’t leave.”

  “Yes, you can. You could be so much more than this. You could be a star. I can make you a star. I know you love modeling. I’ve seen it in your eyes.”

  He was right. Modeling had sparked something inside her. Partly because his attention had made her feel special and partly because she was doing something forbidden. She felt sort of a thrill getting away with it, but it had been wrong.

  “I did love it, but I can’t do it anymore. My family needs me.” And she needed her family. Modeling had been hollow. She could see that now. She’d welcomed her family into that empty space, and they brought her joy.

  “Please consider my offer. I’ll take care of you. I have a large apartment. There’s plenty of room for you.”

  “Are you asking me to marry you?” That didn’t sound like Hudson. He was not the commitment type.

  “Not right away. Maybe in time.”

  Which most likely meant never.

  “You expect me to leave my family, whom I could never come back to, to live with you? You don’t know me at all.” She hadn’t known herself either, but now she did, at least a little better. And what she knew was that she was Amish and would always be Amish. Her family needed her, and she would be here for them. For a change.

  “I thought you cared about me, too.”

  Deborah had basked in his praise, but she held no fondness for Hudson outside of modeling. She’d thought she did. She had even had a crush on him in the beginning. She could see now how shallow all that had been. “I’m not modeling ever again, and I’m not going to leave with you. My family needs me. I belong here. Goodbye, Hudson.” She tossed the envelope back at him and walked away.

  “Debo. Debo? Debo!”

  At the name of her model persona, Deborah ran and didn’t stop until she was back inside. She would never be Debo again.

  “Who was that man?” Mutter asked.

  Oh, dear. Her mutter had seen, and likely her sisters, too. Had Vater seen? Gott willing, he had not. Hopefully, her mutter would forget as easily as she forgot Deborah. “No one. He lost his way.” Both those statements were true. Hudson was no one to her anymore, and he’d lost his way because he never should have come out here.

  * * *

  Amos had watched Deborah run inside. What had that Englisher said to her to make her so upset? He strode over to the man in the dark suit who still stood beside his car. “What business do you have with Deborah?”

  The man leveled his gaze at Amos and gave a sardonic laugh. “Deborah? You have no idea who she is. To me, she’s Debo, the model. My model.”

  “Model?”

  “That’s having your picture taken with a purpose.”

  Why did Englishers think Amish didn’t know anything about the outside world just because they chose not to get caught up in all those meaningless activities and collecting useless possessions? Sometimes Englishers were more ignorant than the Amish. But soon, Amos would be an Englisher.

  The man went on. “In this case, catalogs and book covers. She’s been modeling for me for over a year.” He made his fingers do a walking motion. “Ever wonder where she sneaks off to? To see me.” He poked his own chest with his index finger.

  That couldn’t be. Deborah couldn’t be a model. She went to help a friend. Not to model. Deborah wouldn’t do that. He studied the Englisher. This was the “friend in need” she slipped away to help so often?

  “I asked her to come live with me. She’s considering it.”

  Ne, Amos would not believe that. He wouldn’t believe anything this Englisher said. “You need to leave.” He narrowed his eyes.

  “Admit it, you don’t know your little Amish girl as well as you thought you did.”

  Anger rose up inside Amos. “Now.”

  The man opened his car door. “Tell Debo she hasn’t seen the last of me.” He got in and drove away, kicking up dirt and gravel. Once on the blacktop of the road, the car sped up and raced away with a thundering roar.

  Amos picked up the envelope Deborah had tossed back at the man. The outside simply read “Debo.” What was in it? Should he open it? Should he give it to her vater? He flipped it over. The flap hadn’t been sealed down, just tucked inside. Deborah would never know if he peeked at the contents. He stared at it for a long time before he retreated into the barn and stowed it under his cot.

  He would ask Deborah about this. She would tell him who that man was and what was really going on.

  He strode to the house and entered through the kitchen door. All the women stood or sat, busy at tasks. “Deborah, may I speak with you?”

  Sarah came over and hugged him around the waist.

  Lydia put her hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “Let him go.”

  Sarah did and smiled up at him.

  He smiled back at her, then looked at Deborah.

  She stared, unmoving, as though she might deny his simple request.

  “Go on.” Teresa waved for Deborah to comply.

  She released the dishcloth in her hand and followed him outside. “What is it? I need to help with supper.”

  “Let’s talk in the barn.” He led the way, and once inside, he faced her. “Who was that man?”

  Her gaze darted around as though she didn’t know who he was talking about, but then she asked, “Who, the man in the black Porsche?”

  She knew the kind of car? Had she ridden in it, as well?

  He held up his hand. “Before you say anything else, wait here.” He didn’t want her to be tempted to lie. He went into his small room, returned with the envelope and held it up. “He told me you’ve been modeling for him.”

  Her face paled. “You spoke to him?”

  “I did, but I didn’t believe anything he told me. He called you Debo. I want to hear what you have to say about this.”

  She stared at him for a long time, then took a deep breath. “Ja. I did some modeling, but it wasn’t anything bad. It was for high-end catalogs and book covers.”

  He stared back. That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. He’d thought she would explain this whole thing away and paint a completely different picture. “Having your picture taken willingly like that is bad. He’s the friend in need you’ve been helping?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Sort of.”

  Then it was true. “You know consenting to have your picture taken is forbidden.”

  Her voice came out small and frail. “I know.”

  “I can’t believe you would do something so blatantly wrong.” Just another Amish girl being duplicitous. Were there any who were trustworthy? What should he do now? “He said he asked you to go away with him and that you are considering it.”

  “Ne! He asked, but I would never do that. Never consider it.”

  Dare he believe her? Either she told the truth now and lied before, or she lied now and told the truth before. Either way, she’d lied to him. She had participated in an activity she knew went against their Amish beliefs. He held out the envelope. “What’s this?”

  She looked from him to the envelope and back to him before taking it. “Did you open it?”

  “Ne. I thought about it, but it’s yours.”

  “It’s money for the work I did.” Her voice sounded defeated. “I’m sorry I ever did it. I quit. I’m not modeling for him anymore. It’s over.” She stared at Amos a moment. “What are you going to do?”

  The proper Amish thing to do would be to tell her vater. To tell the church leaders. But then a proper Amish wouldn’t be making plans to leave. “I don’t know.”

  “I promise I’m not going to model anymore. Ever again. I want to help take care of my mutter. And now with a new little one on the way, there will
be a lot to do.”

  No wonder she was a mystery to him—she’d been harboring a secret. A huge secret. Maybe more. “Any more secrets I should know about?”

  “Ne.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

  He wanted to believe her but didn’t know how with all her secrets and lies.

  “Let me know what you decide to do.” She walked away.

  Part of him wanted to tell on her as quickly as possible to hurt her the way she’d hurt him, and then leave this farm to get away from her. Get away from this community. But another part of him wanted to keep her secret and protect her.

  He cared about her more than he realized, and that made her betrayal of trust hurt that much more. How could he ever trust her again? He couldn’t. He needed to leave as soon as possible. But could he leave her? His heart didn’t want to.

  * * *

  Tears coursed down Deborah’s cheeks as she ran through the field to the pond. The ducks squawked and flapped their wings to get out of her way. “Sorry.” She plopped down on her sitting log.

  How could she have been so stupid? The attention and praise Hudson had given her had been empty and worthless.

  The look of disappointment and disapproval in Amos’s eyes wrenched at her heart. What had she done? He would never trust her again. That hurt more than she thought it could. If she’d walked in a different direction, she never would have met Hudson. Never modeled. Never fallen into that temptation.

  She tilted her head heavenward. “Gott, I am so sorry for what I have done. What do I do now?”

  The image of banding together with her sisters, helping their mutter, flashed in her mind.

  A peace washed over her soul, and a contentment she’d never felt before swirled inside her. A smile pulled at her mouth. She sensed the Lord calling her to care for her mutter. Deborah had a purpose now.

  She stared at the crumpled envelope fisted in her hand. She’d forgotten about it. She didn’t want this money or any of the money she’d earned. It was all tainted.

  Standing, she wadded up the envelope with the enclosed money into a ball and prepared to throw it into the water. She stopped with her hand over her head, getting the impression to hold on to it. But why?

  She flattened the rumpled envelope and folded it in half. She would need to figure out what Gott wanted her to do with this money.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Amos stewed for two days over Deborah’s misdeeds. He should tell Bartholomew what she’d done. But that would hurt Deborah. But to not tell her vater would be a betrayal of the trust he’d placed in Amos, and a betrayal of the trust the bishop had placed in him. But Deborah would hate him if he told. But then, he’d betrayed them all by plotting his escape from the community.

  He wanted to be away from her, but at the same time, not let her out of his sight. Even now that he knew her secret, he sensed there was so much more to learn about her. He didn’t need to get tangled up with a duplicitous girl and her secrets. This twisting inside rattled him. Though he knew what he should do, he didn’t want to do it.

  He’d thought life on a farm with females would be easy, simpler. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He should just get his departure over with instead of continuing to delay. He could see no other way out of this mess except to leave the community now. Before any of this mattered.

  He headed to his little room in the barn. The kittens lay curled up in a huddle on his cot. He pulled out the cell phone. He’d thought he wanted to leave but now a part of him wasn’t sure anymore.

  Had it only been a week or two before Bartholomew’s accident that he’d run into Jacob in town? His cousin had understood Amos’s angst and betrayals. Had told him that Rumspringa wasn’t a gut representation of actually living in the Englisher world. That he needed to try it. So, why not? The Amish world hadn’t treated him very well, had ended up not having anything to offer him. No land to work or a trustworthy wife.

  Amos sat on the other end of the cot from the kitten pile with the cell phone in his hands, weighing it as he weighed his options. He liked working on the Miller farm, felt at home here, but he couldn’t stay indefinitely. Bartholomew would get his cast off soon. Amos couldn’t return to his family’s farm. What had he told Deborah? The Englisher world held different opportunities. He wouldn’t know what those opportunities were until he tried. Right?

  He pressed the button to turn on the phone. Nothing happened. He held down the button. Still nothing. Dead battery. He’d forgotten to plug it in all this time. He could charge it in the electrical outlet in the main part of the barn, normally used to plug in a heater to keep young or sick livestock warm on bitter winter nights. He dug the cord out from under the cot. Dare he charge it now?

  The sound of female humming drifted into the barn.

  He tossed the phone and cord under the cot. It hit the back wall with a thump. He cringed.

  The humming grew louder, as one of the girls entered the barn. “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” floated through the air.

  Deborah?

  He stepped out of his room.

  Miriam sucked in a breath, interrupting her tune.

  Not Deborah. Just as well. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She smiled. “My fault. I was deep in thought. Not paying attention.”

  Miriam was a sweet girl. No secrets. No disguise. No subterfuge.

  Maybe he was drawn to enigmatic girls for a reason. But if he didn’t want to be surprised or disappointed, he should find a girl who didn’t hide behind a mask. But how would he know? “What brings you out here?”

  She held up the shiny galvanized pail. “I’m on my way to milk Sybil.”

  Of course. He should have known. Quiet, dependable Miriam. Always doing her work without complaint. No mystery about her. Just what he needed.

  But nothing about her appealed to him. Nothing drew him in. Nothing made him want to know more. Was there anything more to know?

  Not like Deborah, who had an alluring mystique about her.

  And secrets.

  * * *

  The following week, Deborah helped her mutter on with her coat. Mutter had scheduled tests at the hospital today, and Vater was taking her, accompanied by Hannah and Lydia, who had been the most involved in Mutter’s management.

  The anxiety remedies Deborah had purchased in conjunction with avoiding caffeine seemed to keep Mutter amenable. Deborah prayed the calm lasted. Mostly for Mutter’s sake so she wouldn’t be frightened, but also for the others looking after her.

  The foursome headed out the door, followed by Deborah and Miriam.

  Amos stood out front with his hand on Floyd’s bridle. Her emotions fluttered about from one to another and back. First happy to see him, then guilty for her secret, then dread that he would tell someone mixed with relief he hadn’t. Maybe she needed some of those remedies to calm her nerves.

  He had avoided Deborah since the Hudson incident, showing up only at mealtimes and leaving shortly afterward. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t told her vater about her having modeled. She was afraid to ask what he decided to do with the information, fearful it would push him into telling Vater and others what she’d done.

  Right now, she couldn’t brood over what he might do.

  Amos held open the buggy door and spoke to Vater. “I can drive if you like.”

  “Danki, but I will feel better to have a man on the farm while I’m in town. We will probably be there most of the day.”

  Deborah stepped forward. “I could go and help out.”

  “I think too many people going might make Mutter more nervous than she already is. Even though the herbs you purchased seem to be helping. We’ll tell you everything we learn.”

  She ached to go, but agreed it was probably best if she didn’t. “Are you picking up Dr. Kathleen on the way?”

  “Ne. She’
s meeting us at the hospital.”

  “Don’t forget to tell her how the remedies are working so far.”

  “I will, little mutter hen.” Vater patted Deborah’s hand and climbed in the back with Mutter and situated his crutches.

  Hannah, at the reins, drove away.

  As they left, Deborah’s heart weighed heavy.

  Amos came up beside her. “Your mutter is going to be all right.”

  Surprised, she turned to him. The first words he’d spoken to her in days. Words of comfort, no less. “You’re speaking to me again?”

  He gave her a weak smile but didn’t answer her question. “Your vater and sisters will take gut care of her.”

  That was part of the problem. They always took care of everything, unintentionally excluding Deborah to the point she wasn’t needed. But she had been the one to find the natural remedies, and that made her feel better. “Danki for being here to help us in all of this.”

  “I’m glad I could, but I haven’t done very much.”

  “Oh, but you have. Just being here to support us and keeping our secret. At least for now.” Deborah knew how to keep secrets. And now Amos knew hers. How long would he keep it? “Unless the doctors can figure out exactly what’s wrong with her and make her better, I think a lot more people are going to find out about her conditions.”

  “That won’t be so bad, will it?”

  His concern touched her, especially after so long a silence. Was his talking to her a sign that he’d made a decision?

  “It depends on how they react.”

  He nodded. “True. Even in our community people can be unkind without realizing it.”

  “Especially children. They may not mean to be, but words could be out of their mouths before anyone can stop them.” Deborah hoped no one spoke cruelly to, or about, Mutter.