The Amish Cowboy's Homecoming

by Ophelia London

  Collin groaned loudly. “She’s had her fun with the gauls, but it’s high time she goes inside. Learn to cook and clean and…take care of a man.” Collin turned his gaze to rest on Isaac. “She’s my girl, ya see. We’ll get married someday.”

  “Ah,” Isaac said. “That’s…” His voice faded, not knowing what to say. True, he’d been around Grace for only a few hours, but could a woman like her really be interested in…

  Again, he cut off his thoughts. None of his business.

  “Maybe this wedding season, even,” Collin continued. He wasn’t smiling like a happy husband-to-be but instead wore an expression of almost…obsession on his face. How odd.

  And how odd was it that Isaac felt a rush of protection toward Grace? His throat got tight, and he could feel his heart beating hard. He took a long look at Collin Chupp, protection turning to defensiveness.

  But why should that be? He hardly knew either of them. He’d basically stepped into their lives from out of nowhere. Perhaps he didn’t know Grace’s character at all. Or maybe there was something more to Collin.

  “If only she’d go out with me,” Collin added, his voice dropping from forceful to almost sulky.

  One of the sisters started to laugh, nudging the other. “You’ve been asking to court her for a hundred years.” They broke into giggles.

  “Not officially,” Collin said, rubbing the back of his hand across his chin.

  Finally, that alarm pushing through Isaac’s blood died down. Grace won’t even go on a date with him… He covered his mouth with a hand, hiding a smile.

  “You’re not interested in her, are you?” Collin continued, looking straight at Isaac.

  Isaac lowered his hand. For the life of him, he didn’t know how to respond.

  “Of course he isn’t,” Samuel practically jumped in, letting Isaac off the hook. Though Samuel’s resolved tone made Isaac want to frown. “She’s his boss’s daughter. There’s a firm line there, son.”

  “Oh,” Collin said, though still looking incredulous.

  “And being from Silver Springs,” one of the daughters added, “the girls in your community are more traditional than Grace Zook. That’s the kind of woman you’ll want to marry, jah?”

  I will? Isaac couldn’t help thinking. It was true: his New Order congregation was a bit more liberal when it came to technology and worship services, but the rules about women’s roles were nearly as old-fashioned as the Swiss Amish in Nebraska.

  “That so?” Collin said, staring at him hard now, all that intensity returning.

  This wasn’t a topic Isaac wanted to discuss—it was personal. Plus, he wasn’t anywhere close to thinking about getting married.

  “Jah,” he finally said, tired of feeling the weight of all the eyes in the room on him. “I’m definitely traditional.” He’d spoken the tiny fib mostly to pacify Collin, and with the hopes of moving on to another subject. “And I would never overstep my place. Your father’s right—he’s my boss.”

  He looked at Collin again, who was back to shoveling food into his mouth. Isaac breathed out the last of that unexpected, overreactive protection for Grace, turning his full attention back to Sadie.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I need that bowl—no, Amos, not that one, that one.”

  “Sorry. There are five bowls where you pointed.”

  Sarah exhaled in a loud huff and stared at her husband. “Maybe if you spent more time helping me and less time at the sawmill…”

  “Here,” Grace said quietly, handing the correct blue mixing bowl to her older brother. “She needs it to make the pancakes.”

  “Danke,” Amos said, rushing over to his wife.

  “He works at the sawmill,” Grace pointed out, then instantly regretted butting in.

  “Don’t defend him, Grace,” Sarah said, planting her hands on her hips as she stood near the stove. “And don’t get in the middle of it. It’s not your place.”

  Then why do you always ask my opinion about why Amos works so much, or why he still hasn’t fixed your rocking chair, or why can’t he be a better husband?

  Grace loved her brother, and she’d even liked Sarah Miller fine enough when Amos started courting her three years ago. But a few months after their wedding day, it was as if nothing her brother did satisfied his new bride. And, since Sarah had decided it was best that the newlyweds move in with Amos’s family instead of the tradition of moving in with Sarah’s, Grace was too often front row to their arguments.

  In addition to making the worst lemonade in Lancaster County, Sarah was grumpy all the time and constantly yelling at her husband, then demanding Grace take her side.

  “I’m not in the middle of it,” Grace said, smoothing down the front of her apron. “All I did was hand him a bowl.”

  Sarah sighed again. “You’ll understand when you’re married. Or maybe you’ll find a husband who actually cares about you.”

  A fist squeezed around Grace’s heart as she looked at her brother, his chin lowered. Amos didn’t deserve this. But Sarah was right; it wasn’t Grace’s business to interfere in someone else’s relationship. Even though she’d been holding her tongue for years.

  “I gotta go,” Amos said.

  “Of course you do,” said Sarah.

  Amos exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “I gotta go to work,” he said. “I’m nearly late.”

  “Then go,” Sarah howled. Her harsh tone made Grace’s heart ache for her brother again, and also wonder if she’d awaken the whole house at this early hour.

  “I’ll be back for supper,” he added, putting on his straw hat while walking to the door, not even attempting to kiss her goodbye. Grace would sooner try to kiss Cincinnati…

  “Of course you will,” Sarah muttered. “Auf wiedersehen,” she added, turning her back to him after offering a quick and stiff goodbye.

  “Mach’s gut,” Grace said, smiling lightly at her bruder, hoping to convey her purest of sympathy to him. But really, what was she supposed to do?

  Since she couldn’t say anything, she simply sent Sarah a look she knew she’d understand.

  “Your brother can take care of himself,” Sarah replied, rolling her eyes.

  “And you could be easier on him,” Grace said, then held her breath.

  Sarah stared at her, closed her eyes, and shook her head. “Are you eating breakfast with us?”

  “Can’t,” Grace said. “I’ve got to get out to the new horse. Training starts today.”

  “Don’t know how you can stay out there for so many hours.”

  Having you in the house all day makes it easier, Grace wanted to say, but didn’t. She silently apologized to the Lord for even thinking it.

  The sky above was still a dark purple, but bright lines of orange and yellow settled along the horizon. In just a few minutes, she would see the first sunbeams.

  Danke, kind Heavenly Father, for this beautiful day. She continued her prayer from earlier. Danke for Maam and Daed, and all my family. She smiled. Even Sarah. Please bless me with patience and kindness, and with a heart that wants to serve thee better. And please help me to find my way, dear Gott, that I may do my duty to—

  She suddenly cut off, hearing a noise coming from the stables. A sound that wasn’t equestrian.

  “Guder mariye!”

  Grace was shocked to see Isaac at Cincinnati’s stall, handfeeding him a carrot. “Guder mariye,” she echoed, but with way less enthusiasm. “When did you get here?”

  “Oh, ’bout fifteen minutes ago.”

  He was wearing clean black pants and an olive green shirt with short sleeves, brown suspenders, and boots. Plus his “cowboy” hat. Grace envied how well-rested he looked, even after such a long day yesterday.

  She bit her bottom lip, loathing that he’d beaten her to work. “You didn’t have to,” she said, walking toward him. “I p
lanned on brushing him out first thing.”

  Isaac shrugged. “I’m an early riser.”

  “Hmm.” Grace exhaled, taking note. “The brush is right there.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  “No, I—” Suddenly, Isaac had the horse brush in his hand and was holding it behind his back. When she took a step toward him, he took a step back, one side of his mouth tipped up. “This isn’t a game.”

  Isaac frowned and looked to the side. “It isn’t?”

  “It’s serious.”

  He held the brush out in front of him. “This is serious?”

  Grace grabbed the brush, hearing him snicker as she turned her back to him. “What are you so happy about at this hour?” she couldn’t help asking.

  Isaac tipped back the front of his hat. “Woke up in a good mood, I reckon.”

  Grace blew out a breath in exasperation. She’d woken in a good mood, too. But him beating her to Cincinnati made her competitiveness flare up.

  “I have a very specific way of grooming a new horse,” she said. “It leads into my heeding routine.”

  “I have my own techniques, for which I was hired.” His voice was calm and level, which made Grace want to stomp her foot. “But your father says we’re a team—so, we’re a team, or did you forget that?”

  He was playing his charming card again. Okay, if this was all a game to him, Grace could play her own card.

  “I was only teasing you,” she said with a lilt to her voice. “You’re so touchy this morning. Loosen up, Isaac King.” She purposefully fluttered her lashes as she passed him, noticing that he didn’t break eye contact as she’d expected.

  As a married man, shouldn’t he be ignoring her friendliness?

  “You’re a curious woman, Grace Zook,” he said, pulling down the front of his hat.

  Grace swung around, holding out the sides of her skirts. “And you haven’t even seen my heeding skills.”

  Isaac chuckled. Even though he was completely off-limits and basically out to steal her future, something in the sound made Grace want to join him.

  What a lucky woman Sadie is to be the wife of a strong, cheerful, talented man, she thought as she stood beside him, both of them reaching into the stall, getting Cincinnati used to their smells. I hope she appreciates him, takes good care of him.

  She couldn’t help thinking about Sarah and Amos. How much longer could Grace be expected to live in the same house as Sarah? Her sister-in-law caused so much tension.

  “I’m going in,” Isaac said, breaking into her thoughts. He was already opening the small gate before she could make a move. She wanted to object, to say she was going into the stall with the horse first. But that was selfish. And hadn’t he let her corral Cincinnati on her own last night?

  “Good boy,” Isaac said, his voice calm and soothing as he offered the back of his hand. The horse was tentative at first, but then he moved up to Isaac, smelling his hand, his palm. A stab of jealousy hit Grace when Isaac reached up and ran a knuckle down the front of the horse’s nose. “Good boy,” he repeated, running his hand around the white patch of his forehead.

  Grace was dying to jump in there and pet the beautiful Morgan, get him trusting her, not just Isaac. But she knew full well that part of working as a team was not overstimulating the animal. She would have her time with Cincinnati soon enough. Until then, she watched almost greedily as Isaac stroked at his nose, the sides of his head, while whispering softly, peacefully, making even Grace feel calm.

  “Your turn.”

  Despite the irritation Grace felt from just the existence of Isaac, she felt a giddy grin spread across her face as Isaac pushed open the gate, inviting her to come in beside him. “He’s glorious,” she whispered. “Aren’t you, good boy?” she added when Cincinnati lowered his head to snuffle at the side of her face. Grace giggled, taking in the smell and the sounds, loving every second of the experience.

  “I think he’s ready for a lead,” she said about twenty minutes later, after she was sure the horse was nice and relaxed.

  Any training session—even with a new horse—could only be up to two hours. Much longer and the horse would lose interest, get tired, and want to rest or play. Grace was relieved Isaac felt the same way—she didn’t want to clash with him about something so basic.

  “I think he’s ready to run,” Isaac said, when the two hours was up.

  “Ya think?” Grace said when Cincinnati jerked his head to the side, probably tired of the harness and lead. But they’d made good progress. They practiced putting on and taking off the tack, brushing him down, and simply getting him used to being around humans. Trusting them.

  “Should we let him into the back pasture with the other horses?” Isaac asked, pulling at the collar of his shirt. It was getting warm in the stables.

  “Maybe not yet,” Grace replied. “I don’t want him to lose focus on us, now that we finally have it.”

  Isaac didn’t reply right away. Maybe he didn’t agree with her but didn’t want to argue, either. Still, she wasn’t about to end the morning in a dead heat.

  “I, uh, I liked how you led him in by the chin that first time,” she began. “I was impressed.”

  “Jah?”

  “Oh, jah.” As he walked past her, she made a point to glance up, batting her lashes flirtatiously like the way she’d seen Hannah do sometimes.

  He paused and tilted his head. “Got something in your eye?” he asked.

  “Uh—no,” Grace said, jerking her chin away. “Oh…oh, you,” she added, doing her best to familiarly shove at his shoulder.

  “Don’t lose your balance, there,” he said. “Are you overtired? Need to sit?”

  “Nay.” Grace exhaled. “Never mind.” Since the man still wasn’t reacting the way she’d expected, and she loathed faking interest in him, she gave up her plan to flirt him into quitting.

  For now.

  “Before I go,” she said, “I’ll fill a cotton ball and put it in Cincinnati’s stall for later. “It’ll help.”

  “A cotton ball?” he asked. “For what?”

  “The lavender oil.”

  He dipped his chin, staring at her through his brows. “Lavender?”

  “Aye.” She planted her hands on her hips, not appreciating the amused expression on his face. “Mixed with sweet almond and orange, it’s very relaxing, calming.”

  Isaac removed his hat and ran a hand up the back of his hair. “Are you serious? You think a little flower is going make a difference in his behavior?”

  “It’s essential oil,” she corrected him. “Folks have been using it medicinally for thousands of years. And yes, I think it will make a difference.”

  Grace had to press her lips together hard to stop herself from kicking Isaac King in the shins for looking at her like…like she was a dotty child, or maybe someone’s great-grammie who’d seen better days.

  “Is that okay with you?” she finally said, though she was not truly asking permission.

  A long moment passed before Isaac lifted his hands. “Fine. Just don’t get that stuff near me. And you’re right about Cincinnati. He can run around the front ring until he’s tired out. I’ll be back this afternoon to check on him.”

  “You don’t have to…” Grace cut herself off, not wanting to pick a fight. “See you then.”

  “Goodbye for now,” Isaac said, pulling down the brim of his cowboy hat in a kind of gentlemanly way, making Grace want to scowl…or maybe smile. She wasn’t quite sure.

  …

  For the rest of the day, Grace tended to her regular duties. She had five other horses that needed attention and training, one who was nearly ready to pull a buggy for the first time. She’d barely finished a young draft horse’s lesson when Isaac returned.

  “Why are you still out here?” he called. He’d changed into a clean blue shirt, may
be even taken a bath. Grace could only imagine how filthy she must’ve looked.

  Oh, well. My appearance doesn’t matter to Isaac. He’s married. Luckily. Otherwise, surely Papa would never allow us to work so closely together. She smiled to herself. And I wouldn’t be able to walk by him and playfully push his shoulder like I did this morning.

  Even though it didn’t seem to even rattle him.

  “My twin is inside taking a nap,” Grace said, going for a joke, wondering if someone like him would even get it, and then mildly surprised when he chuckled.

  “Can I help you with this?” he asked, taking the lead of the tan draft horse.

  “I’m all done with this girl. She’s not stubborn, but she’s not catching on.” She blew out a breath. “About wore me out, all the tugging.”

  “Some horses are like that. I don’t mind taking off the gear,” he added.

  Grace couldn’t help eyeing him suspiciously. Why was he being so helpful? “Aye. Danke,” she said. “Shall I bring out Sin? I corralled him earlier.”

  “Jah, that was my hope.”

  For a while, they stood inside the fence, watching Cincinnati run free. A few times, he actually slowed his gallop as he neared them, but never stopped. That would come soon enough. For now, they wanted him to feel calm and at home, trust them enough to learn.

  “It’s been a productive full first day,” Grace said. “But I think it’s good he’ll have a rest tomorrow.”

  Isaac turned to her. “Tomorrow? Why?”

  “Why…because it’s Sunday. Preaching Sunday.” The blank expression on his face confused her.

  “You don’t want to train because it’s Sunday?”

  “It’s the Sabbath. It’s the day of rest and for us to honor Gott.”

  “Right.” Isaac removed his hat and placed it over his chest. “Right,” he repeated. “Of course, sorry.”

  Grace was a bit puzzled. Was his congregation in Silver Springs that much different than Honey Brook? Maybe his village didn’t have traditional Sunday services like hers did. How else were they different?

  “Looking good,” a new voice said, and Grace turned to see her father. “Just look at that gait.”