Amish Brides

Home > Christian > Amish Brides > Page 7
Amish Brides Page 7

by Jennifer Beckstrand


  He should have been relieved that Suvie felt that way about him, but disappointment tasted like soggy bran flakes in his mouth. Maybe it would be nice to have a girl take some interest in him, even if he could never return her love. But why should he be disappointed? This was exactly the kind of relationship he wanted with Suvie—with any girl now that Mary was dead.

  Suvie picked up the peanut butter chocolate drops as well as the coconut chocolate crunchies, the mint chocolate pieces, and a tub of macaroons for gute measure.

  When Suvie reached for her coin purse, Aaron yanked a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Clara. “I’m paying for this one.”

  “But I made you come,” Suvie said.

  “There were times when I could have come here for candy, and I was too lazy to do it. The stain of that shame follows me everywhere.”

  Suvie stuffed her coin purse back into her bag. “I’m happy I can help you clear your conscience.”

  “That, and I want to take home the leftovers,” he said.

  Suvie laughed. “I knew you were sneaky.”

  Clara gave Aaron a crooked smile. “It’s nice to see two friends who have such a gute time together.”

  Suvie grabbed the sack of goodies from Aaron’s hand and waved as she blew out the door like a warm spring breeze. “Denki, Clara. For sure and certain, we’ll be back.”

  There was nothing Aaron could do but follow. Suvie had a way of taking charge that was impossible to resist.

  He cupped his hand over Suvie’s elbow to help her into the buggy and climbed up beside her. “Okay. Hand me a macaroon.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Not yet? What do you mean, not yet?”

  “Well, you have to give the apple pie more time to digest, and there’s a special place we have to go to eat the chocolate.”

  “Why do we have to eat the chocolate at a special place?”

  She motioned for him to get the buggy moving. “Don’t ask questions.”

  “This buggy is a special place. I want a macaroon.”

  She giggled. “You have to be patient.”

  “But what if you sneak the macaroons while I’m driving? You’ve been known to eat more than your fair share.”

  “I promise I won’t eat any macaroons until we get there.”

  “What about the peanut butter chocolate drops?”

  “I’ll save you at least one,” Suvie said, with that mischievous glint in her eye and laughter tripping from her lips. Was she ever sad?

  After twenty minutes of her giving him directions, he figured out where they were going. She directed him to drive almost halfway around the lake before she found a spot that satisfied her. “Stop here,” she said. “It has a fire pit.”

  Aaron smirked. “We passed at least ten other spots exactly like this one, and they were a lot closer to home.”

  Suvie flashed a smile. “But this way we can watch the sunset over the lake.”

  “The sun is behind us.”

  She widened her eyes and shaped her mouth into an O. “We still have time to drive to the other side of the lake.”

  Aaron stifled a smile, jumped from the buggy, and pretended not to hear her. “Do you want me to build a fire?”

  “Jah. On the other side of the lake.”

  He walked around the back of the buggy, took Suvie’s hand, and helped her down. “This will have to do. If we wait any longer, all those peanut butter chocolate drops will be gone.”

  Her mouth fell open in mock indignation. “There’s nearly half left.”

  Aaron built a fire while Suvie spread out the plastic grocery bag and laid the tubs of peanut butter, mint, and coconut chocolates on it. Then she opened the graham crackers and marshmallows and placed them next to the chocolate drops. “Now,” she said, wiping her hands down her apron, “this is how you do it. You roast a marshmallow—but don’t burn it—then stack four chocolate drops, whatever flavor you want, on your graham cracker, and put the marshmallow on top of it.”

  “What if I like burned marshmallows?”

  “Nobody likes burned marshmallows. You only pretend to like burned marshmallows because you’re ashamed that you don’t know how to properly roast one.”

  Aaron chuckled. “That’s not true. I like the ashy taste in my mouth.”

  “I don’t believe you, and I can see I’m going to have to roast marshmallows for both of us.”

  He threw one more piece of wood into the flames, unable to ignore the way Suvie’s already-bright eyes reflected the fire’s glow and sent warmth coursing through his veins. If he’d been a peanut butter chocolate drop, he would have melted into a puddle already.

  She threw a dried leaf into the fire and turned her eyes to him, then immediately looked away as an attractive blush tinted her cheeks. “What are you thinking about?” she said.

  He cleared his throat. He had no idea what he’d been thinking. The light from Suvie’s stunning blue eyes had overtaken every thought in his head. But he couldn’t very well tell her that. “It wonders me why anyone would buy firewood at the store.”

  She curved one side of her mouth. “Where else would you buy it?”

  “I cut my own.”

  “Now you tell me! I could have saved three dollars.”

  While they waited for the fire to burn down to coals, they talked about firewood and her fear of chain saws and how she used a pellet stove to heat her tiny house and how one of her brothers checked on her every day. She gave him the whole tub of macaroons, and he ate three before she even had time to raise an eyebrow.

  With a little searching around their fire, he found two gute sticks and whittled points on them with his pocketknife. He handed the longest one to Suvie, and she skewered two marshmallows. “I’ll do one for you.”

  He shoved two marshmallows onto his own stick. “I can do my own and make an extra for you. You’re going to love the smoky, burned flavor.”

  “I won’t have you burning my valuable marshmallows.”

  “I like them burned,” he said.

  She made a face and huffed out her displeasure in one drawn-out breath. That girl must have deep lungs. Her sigh lasted long after Aaron thought she would run out of air. He laughed and made her laugh while sighing, and the rest of her breath came out like a stuttering engine. If he’d known it was this much fun to contradict her, he would have been doing it all day.

  “You only think you like them burned,” she said, when she stopped laughing.

  “We’ll see.”

  Mary hadn’t been much for the outdoors. It was too easy to get dirty. She never would have sat on the ground without a blanket underneath. But there wasn’t a bench or even a good-sized rock to sit on, so Aaron surrendered and knelt in the dirt to roast his marshmallows. Suvie held her stick near the coals and scooted close to Aaron on the side where the smoke didn’t blow in their faces. Her sleeve brushed against his and that familiar warmth threaded its way up his arm and down his spine.

  He liked Suvie, and it was nice to have a friend to eat pie and go to the lake with, especially on days when he felt extra lonely—which had been every day for the last three years.

  His marshmallows caught on fire, and he let them burn for a few seconds before blowing them out.

  Suvie groaned. “There go two perfectly gute marshmallows.” She reached back for a graham cracker and a tub of chocolate. “What kind of chocolate do you want with your ash cake?”

  He didn’t even flinch. “Coconut, please.”

  She placed the coconut crunchies on the graham cracker, and Aaron slid one of his marshmallows between the crackers. He plucked the other marshmallow off the stick and shoved it in Suvie’s direction. “Try this.” She wrinkled her nose and made a horrified face that prompted Aaron to laugh. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll eat it myself.” He popped it into his mouth. “Hmm. So gute.”

  Suvie made another face. “A mouthful of ashes.”

  He ate his burned s’more with great relish even though it didn’t t
aste all that good. He enjoyed watching her pretend to gag every time he took a bite.

  She finished roasting her marshmallows to a beautiful golden brown and carefully constructed two peanut butter chocolate s’mores. She flashed that breathtaking smile and handed one to him. “You at least have to try it.”

  Silky chocolate oozed from between the crackers, and he really couldn’t resist, no matter how much he liked to tease her. He took a big bite, savoring every bit of chocolate, peanut butter, and marshmallow.

  “I have to admit it was a little better than mine.”

  Smug satisfaction twitched at the edges of her grin. “I like a man who’s not afraid to admit when he’s wrong.”

  He grunted. “Wrong? I’m not wrong. I only said it was a little bit better than mine.”

  A laugh escaped from between her lips. “I can see we still have some work to do on the admitting you’re wrong part. But I won’t gloat about it. Do you want another one?”

  “Jah, if you don’t mind.”

  Her eyes sparkled like two brilliant stars. “It would be my pleasure.”

  He sat back and let her roast him marshmallow after marshmallow until he truly couldn’t eat another thing.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had s’mores for dinner before,” he said. “Next time, I’ll bring a couple of steaks from my dat, and we can grill them over the fire.”

  Suvie cocked an eyebrow. “It wonders me if you cook steaks the way you cook marshmallows.”

  “Of course.”

  She giggled and poked at the fire with her roasting stick. “How many beef cattle does your dat raise every year?”

  “Only three or four head. He doesn’t have the land for more.”

  “Will you raise beef too?”

  “Nae. At one time, I wanted to start a dairy.”

  “But not anymore?”

  “I haven’t felt like doing much of anything since Mary died.” The dairy was a forgotten dream. He supported himself—just barely—by planting corn on some of his land and leasing out the rest. He was too miserable to do anything but survive.

  “Maybe it’s not too late.” She hissed as a stray piece of ash from the fire landed in her eye. “Ouch.” She blinked rapidly and then covered her eye with her hand.

  “Here. Let me see.” He rose on his haunches, nudged her arm, and turned her toward him. “Open up.” He steadied the back of her head with one hand and pulled her fingers from her face with the other, then he gently pried her eyelid open. “Blink. Look to your left. Look up.”

  “I think a dairy is a wonderful-gute idea,” Suvie said, as he studied her eye. “You’re smart and a hard worker, and there’s plenty of room to expand your barn.”

  “Look to the right.”

  “And you’re wonderful handsome,” she said.

  She thought he was handsome? Was he sure that was what she had said?

  He didn’t know if he was handsome, but he knew one thing. In the gathering darkness by the light of the fire, Suvie was about the prettiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

  He drew air into his lungs, and the world seemed to stand still, or at least their little section of the lakeshore stood still. He was suddenly acutely aware of the caress of her breath against his cheek and the heady scent of flowers that she seemed to carry with her wherever she went. His gaze traveled to her full, smiling, probably-soft-as-rose-petal lips, and the urge to kiss her seized him like a steel trap.

  He traced his fingers along the soft contours of her throat and around to the back of her neck. All he could hear was the sound of his heart clanging in his ears as he pulled her closer and brought his lips down on hers. He’d been right. Her lips were as soft as rose petals, and he wanted to drink her in.

  The kiss wasn’t near long enough, but he pulled away to come up for air.

  Suvie never took her gaze from his mouth as a sigh parted her lips, sending a tremor through his entire body. He felt her tremble too, as if an earthquake had rocked both of them.

  “My eye feels better,” she whispered, “but I think I’m going to faint.”

  “I think I’m going to kiss you again.”

  Which he did. And it was just as wunderbarr as the first time.

  He was starting to like this whole friendship thing.

  Chapter 5

  Aaron studied the pancakes on his plate. He’d forgotten to oil the skillet before pouring the batter, so the pancakes were in shreds, but they smelled good just the same. He’d never actually made pancakes before, so he was pleased with his first attempt. While they were still hot, he spread them with butter, sprinkled the last of the peanut butter chocolate drops over the top, and doused his whole plate with syrup. He cut a triangular slice and took a bite. Probably the best breakfast he’d eaten in three years, if you didn’t count the benefit breakfasts that the district sometimes put on.

  The pancakes tasted like little slices of heaven, but he probably should have settled for his bowl of bran flakes. If he kept eating like this, Suvie would have her wish. He’d fatten up like a Christmas hog.

  He took another bite and smiled to himself. He loved that look Suvie got on her face when she bossed him around, as if she truly thought she could make him do what she wanted simply by giving him orders. He looked forward to proving her wrong. For sure and certain, he’d make her laugh with his stubbornness.

  Just thinking about Suvie made him feel ten pounds lighter, as if they’d eaten air for dinner instead of cheese and pie and s’mores. There were so few things that had made him happy in the last three years that he felt like a different person. He was sitting in his kitchen eating pancakes, thinking about Suvie Newswenger, and smiling. Maybe he was a different person.

  He took another bite. But maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her. He’d enjoyed the kiss, but he and Suvie were just friends. Had he been disloyal to Mary? He took a swig of milk and put that thought out of his mind. He didn’t want to think about guilt or shame during breakfast, especially when he was enjoying his homemade pancakes so much.

  His heart raced when he heard a knock on the door. Suvie was planning on another outing to look for petunias today, but he wasn’t expecting her so early. The knock was rather weak compared to the banging Suvie usually gave the door. Maybe it wasn’t her. He took another bite before hurrying to the door. If Suvie was on the other side, he didn’t want to keep her waiting.

  Lydia Schrock, Mary’s mother, stood on his porch, leaning on her cane and frowning like a walleye pike. Aaron felt a little guilty that his heart sank. He usually welcomed Lydia’s visits because she was the only one who understood his grief over Mary. Lydia’s heart was broken too.

  She was dressed in black from head to toe, including the black bonnet on her head. Lydia hadn’t stopped wearing black since the day Mary died. Aaron had always thought that Mary looked like her mother: petite, pretty, with a good-natured face and good sense in her eyes. All that had changed when Mary died. Lydia was only forty-six, but she looked twenty years older. She hunched over her cane as if it pained her to stand up straight, her face was gaunt and worn, her chestnut hair laced with abundant strands of gray.

  Aaron glanced across the yard. Mary’s brother Freeman leaned against Lydia’s buggy and glared in Aaron’s direction. He often drove Lydia places because she didn’t drive herself anywhere anymore. Aaron waved to him, but Freeman folded his arms and turned his face away.

  “Lydia,” he said, shaking off his disappointment that Lydia wasn’t Suvie. “Cum reu.”

  Lydia hobbled into the hall and pulled off her bonnet. Her ashen features blended unpleasantly with her white kapp.

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  “Jah,” she said, panting as if she’d run all the way from her house. “I get so out of breath anymore.” She sat on the small love seat in his tiny front room and motioned for him to sit next to her. When he sat, she reached up and patted his cheek affectionately. “No one but you, Aaron. No one but you understands what I suffer because of Mary’s dea
th. Menno won’t sleep in the same room with me anymore because he can’t stand to listen to me cry at night. I told him right out that I can’t stand listening to his silence. He acts as if Mary doesn’t deserve his tears anymore. None of them will listen to me, and they only care about themselves, the whole lot of them. Freeman started smoking. Dinah does nothing but stare at her phone all day. Joe left the church and went to live with his girlfriend in Stevens Point.”

  “I’d heard that. I’m very sorry.”

  “He might as well have stabbed a knife into my heart, for all he cares.” She took his hand. “You would never do that to me, would you, Aaron? You’d never forget Mary like that.”

  “Of course not,” he said, his voice full of conviction. Lydia should never doubt his faithfulness.

  “They’ve all stopped mourning for her, even Menno. His smiles break my heart. He’s forgotten her. They’ve all forgotten her. Everyone except you and me.”

  Aaron nodded. “My mom says I need to get over it and move on, but I loved her more than that.”

  Lydia’s chin quivered. “Menno plowed a field the day after the funeral. They don’t even try to understand.”

  Aaron slipped his hand over Lydia’s. “I promise I will never forget Mary.”

  Lydia sandwiched his hand between her own. “I have heard some terrible rumors, and I came to you so you could put them to rest. I haven’t been able to sleep.”

  Aaron stiffened. He knew what rumors Lydia was talking about even before she told him. He’d seen the looks at the market, the whispering behind the hands. “What rumors?”

  She stood up and paced the small room, her agitation evident in the way her hand gripped her cane. “I know it can’t be true. You love Mary and no one else, but Lorena Yoder tells me that you are dating someone.”

  Aaron’s throat was so dry he couldn’t swallow. “Suvie and I are just friends.” He was telling the truth, but it felt like a lie when he thought of that kiss.

  Lydia stopped pacing and pinned him with a suspicious glare. “Friends? Aaron, that’s how bad things start. It’s a dangerous path, and it smacks of disloyalty to my poor daughter.”

 

‹ Prev