by Amy Clipston
Sarah cleared her throat and crossed the room. “The kitchen is small, but I liked it.” She gestured toward the oak cabinets. “He made them himself.”
“Wunderbaar.” Luke rubbed the cabinets as if they were velvety-soft kittens. “Nice craftsmanship. I always told him he could open his own cabinet shop, but he wanted to concentrate on furniture. An uncle taught him how to make tables, chairs, and bed frames. Peter was a master at it.”
“Uncle?” she asked, her voice small, weighed down with more hurt. “He had an uncle in Ohio too?”
He nodded. “Ya, he did.”
Pain shot through Sarah’s abdomen like fire, and she sucked in a deep breath.
“Sarah?” Luke rushed over to her. “Are you all right?”
Unable to speak, she held her breath, praying the cramping would subside.
“Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair. He started to reach for her but instead pointed to the chair and she sat. He then knelt next to her, his eyes full of worry. “Should I run and get your mamm? Do we need to take you to a doctor?”
“No.” She swallowed deep breaths. The pain eased, and she leaned back in the chair. “It passed,” she whispered.
He nodded, concern still reflected in his face. “Want me to go get your mamm?”
She forced a smile and shook her head. “I’m gut, but danki.” She took short breaths in anticipation of any lingering pain. Finding none, she let her body relax. “Would you like to see the upstairs?” she asked.
He frowned. “Are you sure you can make it up the stairs?”
“I’m expecting zwillingbopplin. I’m not ill.” She hoisted herself from the chair and started for the stairs. “Go get your bag, and I’ll show you your room.”
He grabbed his bag from the living room and followed.
Sarah took her time climbing the stairs and insisted she was doing fine when Luke again asked if she was okay. When they reached the hallway on the second floor, she leaned against the wall and breathed deeply, feeling as if she’d trotted across the back pasture in record time.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Ya.” She caught her breath. “I have two more months of this. I’d better make myself a bedroom on my parents’ first floor.”
“I think that would be wise,” he said with a smile.
Sarah motioned toward the master bedroom. “This is our room.” She paused. “I guess I should say this was our room.” She scowled while studying her bed, which sat lonely and tidy, untouched since the morning Peter had perished. The beautiful green-and-blue log-cabin quilt her sister-in-law Sadie had crafted as a wedding gift seemed to mock her.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the last night Peter had held her close in the dark. She could almost feel his whiskers brushing her face, and she could almost smell his fresh, masculine scent.
But he lied! a small voice inside her chided. Your precious husband died and took all of his secrets with him. You’ll never know if anything he ever told you was true!
“If this is too painful for you, we can move to another room,” Luke’s voice whispered close to her ear.
Sarah kept her eyes squeezed shut. If she concentrated, she could imagine the voice speaking to her belonged to Peter. She’d give anything to hear him say, “I love you, Sarah Rose” one last time.
And she’d give anything to find out why he’d been dishonest with her.
“Which room would you prefer I use?” he asked.
Sarah’s eyes flew open, and she cleared her throat, forcing back the lump threatening to strangle her words. She had to find a way to let Peter rest in peace. She needed to pray for strength.
“Sarah?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “Do you need some time alone in here?”
“No,” she whispered, surprised by his understanding, wondering if he could read her mind. “I need to face the memories in this house eventually, and there’s no time like the present.” She headed into the hall and pointed toward the room next door.
“This was my sewing room.” Her eyes moved over the piles of material strewn about—the shirts and trousers she hadn’t finished making for Peter, and the maternity dresses she had begun. Her sewing machine sat on a small desk in the center of the room.
“I need to clean up the mess. I’ll have to tell Timothy to bring the material to Mamm’s,” she muttered, closing the door and moving to the next room, which contained a cradle and a few dressers. Bags of baby clothes from her sisters sat in the corner of the room awaiting sorting.
Her stomach twisted at the idea of being in this house, surrounded by bittersweet memories while organizing baby clothes for the twins who would never know their father.
And what would she tell her children about their father? Would she tell them they had more relatives in Ohio? Should she go to Ohio and meet the relatives herself before the babies were born?
She crossed the room and stared down at the cradle, wondering if she’d ever truly know who her husband had been. Her thoughts turned to her own family.
“Dat made this cradle for my oldest brother, Robert,” she said. “It’s been passed down to each of the Kauffman kinner and kinskinner.” Gingerly she pushed the cradle, which rocked back and forth, quietly scraping the floor.
“Eli does some nice work.” Luke ran his fingers over the finish. “But you’ll need a second cradle. Maybe I can make it for you.”
Raising her eyebrows, Sarah met his gaze. “You want to make me a cradle?”
“Why not?” He tilted his head and shot her a crooked smile.
She noticed for the first time that Luke was handsome. Due to the strong family resemblance, she assumed he was Peter’s first cousin. Perhaps their fathers had been brothers.
It didn’t matter if they were first cousins or even distant cousins. How could Sarah even know for sure? What if the whole Troyer family was full of liars?
She headed for the door. “The guest room is here.”
He stepped into the small bedroom and glanced around. “This is perfect.”
Sarah moved to the bed and idly straightened the quilt. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s functional.”
“I’m Amish,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t need fancy.”
She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. “Ya, that’s true.”
He lifted the dark-green shade and glanced out the window. “Who lives in that house across the field?”
“Timothy.” Sarah held her stomach as the twins performed summersaults. “He built that house a few years ago.”
“Is he engaged?” Luke straightened the shade and leaned back against the wall. His lanky physique filled the room, and she guessed he was taller than Peter by at least an inch.
“It was three years ago, but his girlfriend, Miriam, changed her mind a month before the wedding and left the community.” She absently smoothed the quilt.
“She left the community?”
“Ya.” Sarah glanced up, meeting his surprised look.
“I guess she was shunned, ya?”
She shook her head. “She was going to join the church before they were married, but she left abruptly. Timothy was crushed. They’d been together a long time, and it took him a few years to work up the nerve to ask her to marry him. She’d always toyed with the idea of going to college, and she said she had to try to fulfill her dream. She longed to be a pediatric nurse.”
He shook his head. “I’m sure he took that hard.”
“He was angry for a long time. But he finally managed to move on by focusing on the furniture store.” She hoisted herself up. “He works long hours and always takes on the larger projects at the shop. Dat tells him he’s a workaholic, but that doesn’t stop him. I think that’s how he deals with his broken heart.”
“He never met anyone else?” Luke asked, standing up to his full height, which meant he towered over her by at least six inches.
“No. I hope he does someday. He’d be a gut husband and dat.” She studied Luke’s face an
d tried to guess his age. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine,” he said.
“Two years older than Peter,” she whispered.
“Ya, that’s right.” He rubbed his clean-shaven chin.
Studying his mocha eyes, she wondered who Luke Troyer was. Part of her wanted to stay distant from him and not get to know him, but another part of her wanted the truth—the real truth. Yet she worried Luke would reveal even more painful deception Peter had left behind without explanation.
“Why haven’t you married?” she asked before she could stop the words.
A grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “You get right to the point, Sarah Rose.”
“I’m sorry.” Her face burned.
“It’s fine.” He waved off the thought. “I did have someone special back before my pop got sick.”
“Your father was ill?”
“Ya, he had a stroke several years ago, and he died about eight months ago.”
“And your mamm, is she living?”
He shook his head. “She died in an accident when I was young.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. And you took care of your father alone?”
He leaned back against the wall again. “That’s right. I split my time between work and Pop. My girlfriend got sick of waiting for me, and she moved on.”
“Waiting for you?” She tilted her head in question. “I don’t understand.”
“She wanted me to choose between my pop and her. I couldn’t leave Pop. He was my responsibility.”
“Was she Amish?” Sarah asked.
“Ya. We grew up together.” He tossed his straw hat onto the peg on the wall next to the bed.
She shook her head with disbelief. “How could she abandon you when you needed her most? It’s our way to care for each other. Now that Peter’s gone, it seems everyone wants to take care of me whether I want their help or not.”
“Millie wasn’t like that. I think she was too selfish to spend her time caring for my pop. She waited for a year and then married someone else—my best friend.”
“And you never met anyone else?”
“I was too busy caring for Pop and working. I didn’t have time for courting.”
“You’ve had a lot of tragedy in your life. You’ve lost your mamm, your dat, and your true love. That’s a lot for a person to bear.” She stepped toward the door. “I’ll let you get settled. The bathroom is downstairs next to the kitchen. I’ll go to the market tomorrow and get you some groceries. Feel free to come to my parents’ house for meals.”
Although Luke’s presence had sent her emotions into a deep abyss of anger and hurt, she felt sorry for him and his loss. She didn’t wish her sorrow on anyone, especially someone who was family.
“We’ll be sitting on the porch later if you want to join us.” She studied the exhaustion in his eyes and shook her head. “You look tired, though, so I’ll understand if you’d rather sleep tonight. It’s been a long day for you.”
He raked his hand through his brown hair. “I think I may call it a day, but I appreciate the invitation.”
“You’re also welcome to use our horse and buggy,” she added. “Timothy may have already introduced you to Molly in Dat’s barn. Peter bought Molly before we were married. She’s a very docile horse. You can use her to venture around town.”
“Danki,” he said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “Sleep well.” Turning, she stepped through the doorway.
“Sarah!” Timothy’s voice rang out downstairs. “Sarah Rose! Mamm is looking for you back at the house.”
“Wait. I want to say something,” Luke said.
He ran his hand through his hair again, reminding her of Peter when he was nervous. Her mouth went dry.
“Danki for everything,” he said. “I appreciate how your family has welcomed me here.”
“Sarah? Where are you?” Timothy called, boots scraping the stairs.
“I could only dream of having a family like this,” Luke said.
His words brought tears to her eyes. This poor man had lost his family. He deserved her sympathy.
But how can I know he’s telling the truth?
“Sarah?” Timothy said as he came up behind her. “We were starting to get worried. You’ve been here quite awhile. Mamm is looking for you.”
“I was just showing Luke the house,” Sarah huffed, annoyed. “I was about to head back.” Wasn’t she old enough to take care of herself? She was sick of everyone hovering over her like she was a fragile little girl.
“Good night, Luke,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let’s go,” Timothy said. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he steered her toward the stairs.
Later that evening, Luke stepped from the shower and snatched a towel off the rack on the wall. While drying himself, he reflected on the day, and exhaustion pummeled him. He was both emotionally and physically drained. His life had taken a turn he hadn’t expected after arriving at the Kauffman & Yoder Amish Furniture store this morning. He’d discovered that not only was Peter dead, but that he had left behind a family—a real family with a wife, unborn twins, and a host of in-laws who’d cared for him.
Grief mixed with anger gripped Luke. He was filled with questions, and he wanted answers. No, he needed answers, and they were answers only Peter could provide.
But Peter was gone. He was dead.
Luke brushed at the moisture in his eyes and cleared his throat while unanswered questions swirled like a tornado in his mind. How had Peter—who had been anti-Amish and driven to become English, and who had left home in Ohio in a fit of anger—moved to another Amish community and quickly become a part of it? It didn’t make sense.
Luke could tell the Kauffmans had loved and accepted Peter as one of their own. Peter had been a lucky man—probably luckier than he’d ever appreciated.
While pulling on his clothes, anger entangled with envy surged through Luke. Peter had married sweet, angelic Sarah, and from the sound of her stories, he was a good Amish man.
He contemplated that for a moment. Perhaps Peter had rediscovered his belief in God. Peter had joined the church in Ohio before he left, and maybe he’d found renewed belief when he met the people here in Bird-in-Hand.
But still, it didn’t seem fair. All Luke had ever dreamed of was a family—a real family, with a loving wife and many, many children. He’d given it all up to care for his pop. Yet Peter had walked away from his family in Ohio and into a brand-new one in Pennsylvania.
Balancing a kerosene lantern in his hand, Luke fetched his dirty clothes and moved through the kitchen toward the stairs. Scanning the room, he tried to imagine Peter and Sarah sharing a life in this house. He wondered if they’d been happy together.
The sorrow reflected in Sarah’s eyes told him she missed her husband with all of her heart. Their home seemed haunted with a ghost of the love Peter had left behind. Luke’s heart craved the love Sarah held for Peter. He hoped someday he could find a woman who was as sweet, loving, and kind as Sarah seemed to be.
Ascending the stairs, he focused on Sarah. Or, as her parents called her, Sarah Rose. How fitting her middle name was. She indeed was a delicate flower, but he’d also seen her thorns when she stood up to her family members. She was a complex woman. He hoped he could foster a friendship with her and be a part of her twins’ lives. It was the least he could do to help her through her loss and the rough road ahead.
Luke yawned as he threw his dirty clothes into a pile on the chair near the bed. Tomorrow he would hitch up Molly and take a tour of Bird-in-Hand. Then he’d visit Eli and see if he could get some wood to start on that cradle.
He would have to tell DeLana the news of Peter’s death, but first he wanted to find out more about the family Peter had left behind. He would contact DeLana when he traveled back to Ohio.
He snuffed out the lantern light and climbed into the double bed. Closing his eyes, he imagined Sarah’s face. He prayed silently, thankin
g God for his safe passage to Bird-in-Hand and for the opportunity to find Peter’s family.
7
Sarah, is that chocolate cake ready yet?” Beth Anne asked as she crossed the bakery kitchen. “We have customers asking for one of your famous cakes.”
“Ya.” Sarah swiped the knife over the icing one more time and then placed it on the counter. “Here you go.”
“Wunderbaar.” Beth Anne lifted the cake plate. “Your best yet.” She paused and turned her concerned eyes to Sarah. “How is Luke doing?”
Sarah shrugged. “Gut, I guess. I haven’t seen him in a few days since I dropped off some groceries and supplies for him. But Dat says Luke’s been visiting businesses and checking out Lancaster County. He’s stopped in to see Dat every day and helps out with the projects at the shop.”
“Gut.” Beth Anne touched Sarah’s arm. “How are you feeling?”
Sarah yawned. “Tired.”
“You need a break. Sit for a while, and I’ll bring you some ice water.” Beth Anne ambled toward the front of the bakery. “I’ll be right back.”
Sarah lowered herself onto a chair and took a deep breath. The past few days had been long. Although her mother had suggested she cut back on her hours at the bakery, Sarah couldn’t bring herself to stay home. She’d rather be with her sisters, contributing to the family business.
Lindsay appeared with a glass and placed it in Sarah’s hand. “Here’s your water, Aenti Sarah.”
“Danki,” Sarah said, lifting it to her lips. The icy liquid was just the refreshment she craved.
While running her fingers through the cool condensation, she wondered what Luke had been doing since he’d arrived at Bird-in-Hand. Truth be known, she’d avoided him as much as possible, worried if she spent more time with him, she’d find out about more lies from Peter, crushing her already-broken heart.
Timothy insisted Luke would only hurt Sarah, and he encouraged her to avoid him. But while she wanted to stay away from Luke, Sarah still couldn’t stop her mind from wondering about the questions Peter had left unanswered. The biggest was why Peter had left Ohio.