The Amish Cowboy's Homecoming

by Ophelia London

  “I’ll come for Sadie later this afternoon, if that’s okay,” he said.

  “She’s fine here,” Grace replied. “As long as she wants.”

  There was nothing more to say, as they both had work to do on their own. Still, Grace wasn’t going to be the first to say “mach’s gut” this time.

  “Well then.” Isaac began backing up, while Grace’s heart took a leap into her throat, missing him already. “I’ll see you soon.” He took a few steps away before turning back. “‘I’ll Do a Golden Deed,’ you said? All the verses?”

  Grace smiled and nodded. “Works every time.”

  She heard Isaac chuckle, then he waved before mounting Scout and leaving the farm. She could’ve sworn she heard him humming the old Protestant hymn as he rode away.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Grace said when Daisy shook her head, black mane spreading down her back. “I wasn’t really thinking about…” She bit down on her bottom lip. “He’s just so handsome—anyone would think so.” She tilted her head, gazing into the distance. “And generous and caring, and so thoughtful. Humble, too. Okay, okay.” She gave the mare a stroke down the nose. “My complete focus is on you now.”

  Grace got Daisy to pull a light wagon, though when she reared at the sight of a larger cart, Grace knew the mare’s training was done for the day. She walked down the row, spending time with each horse, though her mind wasn’t completely on them this time, but wondering what might be happening at the Brenneman farm.

  It was time she peeked in on Sadie and Jane to see what the little girls had been up to all day. The second Grace stepped into the house, she froze in place.

  The kitchen was empty, but Grace found Sarah and Amos beside each other on the couch. No lights on. Not a sound. Sarah was sitting up, while Amos was tipped toward her, eyes closed, his head leaning against her chest. Sarah cradled it gently, while his arms were low around her waist.

  “Shhh.” Sarah held a finger to her lips. “He’s exhausted after last night.”

  Grace nodded, still not sure what she’d walked into, though she knew instantly it was a private moment where she didn’t belong.

  “Good news,” Sarah continued, her voice barely a whisper. “Your father called. Eve’s condition has improved. Coming home soon.”

  Not wanting to make a sound, Grace clasped her fingers together and held them under her chin. “Danke,” she mouthed, her heart flooding with gratitude.

  Sarah nodded an inch, then tipped her chin to look down at her husband, running a hand through his hair.

  Grace left them, tiptoeing up the stairs. When she reached the top, she lowered onto her knees, giving proper thanks to her Heavenly Father with everything in her heart.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Add the water slowly. Right into the center. There ya go.”

  “I do know how to mix concrete, Isaac,” Lucas said, leaning on his shovel, looking at Isaac with narrowed eyes.

  Isaac chuckled. “I’m kidding you, brother.”

  “I was away for ten years,” Lucas admitted, wiping his brow. “But it’s all coming back to me.”

  “Once you participate in your first barn raising,” Isaac said, “it’s in your blood forever. That’s what my father used to say. I can’t tell you how many I’ve done.”

  “We couldn’t have a better crew chief than you,” said Lucas, pushing a wheelbarrow full of freshly mixed concrete to where the foundation was being poured. “So far, this is one of the smoothest barn raisings I’ve attended. You’re a fine leader.”

  Isaac looked down at the notes on his clipboard. “I’ll try not to let that go to my head.”

  The actual barn raising was tomorrow, but the concrete foundation block had to be laid at least a day before, giving it time to set. More than fifty men had shown up to work that morning, which wasn’t a surprise. Barn raisings involved every person in the community: men, boys, women, and children. Everyone had their part.

  “Isaac!”

  For the past ten days, his reaction had become the same every time he heard her calling his name. First it hit him in the chest, a soft, inviting punch, which settled as a warm, slow shiver meandering down his limbs.

  “Have some water.” Grace was holding up a glass, enticing him to take a break.

  She’d been bringing snacks and cold drinks to the workers all morning. Even before they poured the foundation, she’d been there the days when the crew had been removing the ashes, seared wood, and other debris of the original barn. That late evening when the shipment of reclaimed lumber had finally shown up from the mill, Grace was there, offering hot coffee and warm shoofly pie by the slice. One day, at high noon, she’d arrived at the Brennemans’ riding Cincinnati.

  Isaac had heard a few gasps and whispered observations, but mostly, seemed folks didn’t give her behavior a second look, as if seeing a beautiful woman on horseback was commonplace. Perhaps it was…where Grace Zook lived.

  She never seemed to tire but was strong and helpful, thoughtful, showing service and a maturity he hadn’t seen in her before then.

  “Danke,” he said, taking the cold glass gratefully.

  She wore a blue dress, the black apron tied at her waist instead of through her arms. She smiled at everyone, cheerful in her duties.

  “What?” she asked when he felt his own smile broaden.

  “I’m happy to see you,” Isaac stated simply, “so I’m smiling at you.”

  She dipped her chin, a feminine, bashful blush on her cheeks. “Well, stop. Someone might see you.”

  Isaac felt a pinch in his stomach. He still hadn’t asked John for permission to take Grace on a date, though it had been on his mind practically every darn second. It wasn’t as though they were purposefully sneaking around, he just hadn’t found the right time for a serious discussion with her father. In the week and a half since his boss had returned from the hospital in Hershey, the two men had grown even closer—which was a natural result of working side by side. Isaac respected him even more now, so naturally, he felt horribly guilty that he’d been flirting with John’s daughter behind his back for so long.

  Isaac couldn’t stop worrying what would happen if John disapproved of their dating. Could he fire him, and Isaac would lose the money from the job, also impeding his plans for the future with Sadie?

  “I better go, then,” Isaac said. “Maybe I’ll see you later?”

  “You have to see me later,” Grace said. “Cincinnati has two more weeks of training. You can’t expect me to keep up the pace without you.”

  He exhaled a laugh out his nose—a temporary reprieve from the guilt. “I meant after the day’s training.” He took a step closer. “I meant a proper date after the sun goes down. I meant taking you on a ride in an open buggy, you allowing me to hold your hand. Maybe you’d loop your arm through mine if we take a moonlit stroll.”

  “I think that could be arranged,” Grace said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “When?”

  “Soon.” Isaac looked around, wishing he could leave his post right then and sweep her away. “I, well, I still have to speak to your father.”

  “Papa likes you a good much,” Grace said cheerily.

  “He likes me because I’m a hard worker and a decent man.” He paused to shake his head, feeling that guilt again. “At least, he thinks I’m decent. He doesn’t know what we’ve…done.”

  Just like his, Grace’s smile took a dip. “Not like we’ve sinned or anything. We’ve just…we’ve done things a bit out of order from what’s traditional.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Really though, since when have I done anything traditional?” Her smile was back, and when she laughed, it was impossible for Isaac not to feel at peace.

  If someone hadn’t called his name, he was quite sure he would’ve remained exactly where he was.

 
“I’ll be right there!” he called over his shoulder, not ready yet to take his eyes off her.

  “You better get going,” she said. “You’re in charge, you know.”

  “Jah.”

  “See you tomorrow?”

  “You’re leaving?”

  Grace ran her hands down the front of her apron. “I have other responsibilities.” She paused. “I think Sin misses seeing us together, though.”

  “I’ll make it up to you,” Isaac promised. “I know I’ve been leaving a great deal of the training to you.”

  “What you’re doing now is more important.” She lowered her chin and said something he couldn’t make out.

  “What was that?” He turned his ear to her.

  “I said I’m very proud of you. In the most modest way, of course.”

  He laughed. “Danke, Grace Zook.” There wasn’t much more to say, and Isaac did need to get back to laying the foundation. Grace was first to walk away that time, waving as she handed another man a cold drink.

  But instead of returning to his chores, Isaac had no choice but to watch her, while feeling a legitimate weakness in his knees, a lightness in his head, a flutter in his heart, all leading to a realization that he was on a path he’d only dreamed of.

  …

  The next day’s festivities began early. Family carriages started arriving at the Brenneman’s right as Isaac got there at seven. He and Jeremiah greeted everyone, directing where the buggies, carriages, and wagons should park.

  “Morning.” Isaac waved to the Chupps. “Right over there,” he motioned.

  “I know,” Collin Chupp grumbled. He was driving the family buggy and gave Isaac a glare that he felt all the way to the back of his eyeballs.

  “What was that about?” Jeremiah asked, obviously noticing the glare.

  Isaac shrugged. “No idea.”

  But he did know. At least he suspected. How could anyone observe him and Grace together and not presume something besides friendship might be going on between them?

  If Collin noticed, John might have, too.

  When was the right time to swallow his concern and talk to Grace’s father properly? With only a few weeks of training left, it felt as though time was running out.

  “Guder mariye,” he repeated over and over before it was time to go to work.

  Just as he was about to leave the rest of the greetings to Jeremiah, the Zook family arrived. He felt his heart begin to beat hard in his chest in anticipation of seeing her. And nervousness about seeing his boss.

  He knew Eve wouldn’t be coming—she being one of the few members of the congregation who was excused. He tipped his hat to John, who was driving, and waved at the two little girls, who practically jumped out of the back of the buggy and ran toward a group of kinnahs. Sadie was already there.

  “Morning,” Amos said as he climbed out, holding a hammer in one hand and a saw in the other. “Put me to work.”

  “How are you at sawing floor joists?” Isaac asked, shading his eyes from the sun.

  Amos was already peeling off his black jacket. “Just point me to where I’m needed.”

  “Be careful, husband.”

  The voice was female, but not Grace’s. Isaac was astonished when he saw Sarah lean out the front of the buggy and stretch a hand to Amos.

  “Aye, I will,” Amos replied, reaching up to take his wife’s hand in a way Isaac had never imagined was possible between these two from his own observations and from what Grace had told him.

  Just then, Grace poked her head out. Isaac gawked at her, knowing his mouth was still hanging open in disbelief. Grace looked over at the couple, smiled, and shrugged one shoulder.

  I’ll get the whole story later, he said to himself. By the way Grace is grinning, I’m sure it’s a good one.

  Grace climbed out of the back of the buggy, clad in a peach-colored dress, appearing as clean and fine as ever.

  “Can I help you with that? Here, let me carry—”

  “You certainly will not,” Grace said, turning a shoulder to him, guarding the two large bags of potatoes she was holding in her arms. “You know very well what my job is today and what yours is.” She lowered her voice. “And you’re not to treat me differently.”

  Isaac stepped back, grinned, and crossed his arms. “Oh aye. I’d never do that.” He tapped his chin and motioned with his head. “House is that way, but I’m sure you knew that.”

  “Danke,” she said, holding eye contact with him longer than was necessary. Or discreet.

  “Danke!” Sarah cheerfully echoed as she practically bounced out of the buggy and headed toward the farmhouse, lugging a stack of Dutch ovens.

  When he looked at Grace again, she only gave him that same mysterious shrug.

  “I’ll see you at lunchtime,” she said.

  He took off his hat. “Danke, Grace, for all you do for me.”

  “Oh stop it,” she whispered under her breath. “You’re making me blush.”

  Isaac didn’t say another word. He didn’t have to. He just gazed at her, feeling happy and warm as they stood together under the morning sunshine.

  “Ahem.”

  Isaac jumped back when John came up beside them. “M-morning, John. How are you?”

  “Mornin’.” He stood between them, big and tall, chest out, methodically slapping the head of a hammer into his palm. “Got a job for an old man like me?”

  Isaac swallowed, wishing he’d already had the looming conversation with his boss. He was anxious about his future, but he was nearly just as anxious at the notion of not being allowed to court Grace. Sometimes it felt like he was torn down the middle.

  “The old men are most likely with the teenagers pulling out nails from the refurbished beams,” Isaac said to him. “Experienced men like yourself are handling the bigger projects, like posting the main frame.”

  “Well, then, I suppose I best be going that way.” John sent a glace to his daughter first—who seemed to be frozen in an abnormal position—then he looked at Isaac…who was beginning to feel too hot under the collar. A moment later, the corners of John’s eyes crinkled. Was he…smiling at them? “You kids have fun today, jah? But be safe.”

  The moment John walked away, Isaac felt a heavy tension loosen in his shoulder muscles, and he allowed himself to feel optimistic that his talk with John would be a success. “You too!” he called, following the need to shake out his stiff arms and hands.

  “You’re lucky he respects you,” Grace said with a wink, then turned to the house.

  Since it wouldn’t be Christian to leer at her so obviously as she strolled away, Isaac went back to his own job, happy for the distraction and to be of service. Since barn raisings in Amish country were as common as a winter cold, everyone seemed to know where to go and what to do. It was a perfect group of men working like a well-oiled machine.

  Isaac found himself nailing down rafters next to Amos, for which he was grateful. They hadn’t spent much time together, and to Isaac’s shame, he’d formed an unfair opinion of the man.

  After all, Isaac himself understood that no one really knows what’s going on in someone else’s marriage.

  “Got any longer nails?” Amos asked him as they worked side by side.

  “Jah.” Isaac passed him a handful. “I can send for more.”

  “I’m good for now,” Amos replied. “This is going to make a fine barn. Word is that Jerry wanted to expand his herd. I think he’ll get to after this.”

  “I guess that’s one good thing about what happened.”

  “Aye. Here—let me hold that in place for you.”

  Isaac hadn’t expected to have any kind of deep and meaningful conversation with Amos as they’d been clinging to the rafters like frogs to a lily pad, but he was grateful to have some kind of relationship with him.

  Noon
came, along with the lunchtime bell. Isaac had been smelling the delicious food cooking for the past hour. His parched mouth and growling belly told him it was time to stop. At one of the long tables, he was wedged between Lucas and Samuel Chupp, across from Bishop Turner and his sons, ensnared through the entire meal by answering questions about Silver Springs.

  Folks were curious about him, which he understood, but he’d hoped he would be able to spend some of his break with Grace. The few times he saw her, Collin Chupp was either talking to her or following behind her.

  Isaac might’ve felt jealous or envious that someone else was occupying her attention, but he knew where Grace’s heart was.

  It might’ve taken until sundown to finish the barn, but the folks of Honey Brook were hard workers, never taking unplanned breaks, always asking what else they could do. Isaac was amazed when families began loading up their carriages and buggies with the tools they’d brought and the pots and pans used for cooking.

  Almost out of nothing, a sturdy barn now stood where there once was only ashes.

  “Fine day’s work,” John said, placing a hand on Isaac’s shoulder.

  “Mighty fine,” Isaac agreed. “But you know it had little to do with me,” he quickly added, not wanting to come across as proud or self-serving.

  “Oh, nay,” John said. “I do know that.” He looked at Isaac, dead serious, then he broke out in a gleeful chortle. “Lighten up, son. I believe you managed to impress everyone around here.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Some more than others, I reckon.”

  Isaac noticed Grace coming their way. The front of her dress and apron were spotted with splashes of food and hard work, but her eyes were smiling as she looked at him.

  “John Zook, I’d like to have a talk with you…” Isaac began, squaring his shoulders. “About that very subject.” The words had flowed out so naturally that he felt almost no nervousness.

  “Oh?” John said, placing his large body between Isaac and his eyeshot of Grace. “What sort of talk?”

  “I think you know, sir.”