The Amish Cowboy's Homecoming

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The Amish Cowboy's Homecoming Page 27

by Ophelia London


  And just before he might’ve yielded, Grace sat back. “I think it stopped raining.”

  Isaac wondered how she could tell, for all he could hear inside his head was his pounding heart, his own fast, labored breathing.

  “The sun will be up before long,” she continued, letting go of his face. “We’ll be seeing each other again soon enough.”

  “That’s true,” he replied, though he still wasn’t ready to move. Even though he’d been the one to stop the path they’d been on, in his heart, he didn’t want to be separated from her for even an hour.

  A moment later, she was on her feet, turning her attention to Cincinnati. Isaac was grateful for the space, for the fresh air to breathe that didn’t fill his senses with all things Grace. For a second, he dipped his chin, offering one quick prayer of thanks that they hadn’t gotten carried away and done anything regretful.

  Finally he found the strength to rise to his feet, though his thigh muscles felt shaky, his head lighter than air. “Are you going back to bed?” he asked, joining her as she attended to the horse.

  “I’m going inside,” she said. “But I doubt I’ll sleep a wink.”

  The flirtatious look she flashed made him grateful again for Gott blessing him so thoroughly. “Same,” he admitted. “I’d hate for Sadie to wake up and find me gone.”

  “Go,” Grace said. “Three training sessions today, okay?”

  “Whatever you say.”

  It was a silly way to think, but after they’d said their extended goodbye, Isaac felt as though he was walking on clouds all the way back to the Chupps’. Had his feet ever touched the earth? Or had angels been his escorts?

  …

  The rest of that day was a blur, for in between morning training sessions, Isaac—quite nonchalantly—had asked Grace Zook for their first official date. After she’d accepted, Isaac knew he hadn’t stopped grinning until he’d finished his day’s work.

  The roads were still muddy, and not many buggies were out as Isaac made his way to the Zooks’ just as the sun had set, but this time, there was nothing that would keep him from beginning their courtship.

  “I hesitate to ask where we’re going,” Grace said as she sat beside him in the open carriage. She wore a dark blue dress and black cape fastened at the throat, and her eyes and cheeks practically glowed, pink lips smiling.

  “Afraid I’m planning a mud fight?” Isaac found it hard to keep his eyes on her and on the road.

  “I wouldn’t put it past you.” She laughed. Then she cleared her throat. “I would ask you about your day along the way but, since I was with you practically every minute, there isn’t much to catch up on.”

  “Sadie’s very excited,” he offered.

  “You told her?”

  “Yup.” Isaac felt his own smile broaden.

  “Does she understand?”

  “Probably not. Since we work together, she knows us spending time together in the evening is different. The two oldest Chupp girls talk about dating and courtships as often as they can. Sadie may understand more than she realizes, but I doubt she understands the actual significance.”

  “Oh?” Grace straightened her posture and blinked several times, as if playing coy. “And what is the significance?”

  “That I’ve been observing you, Grace Zook, for weeks now. And I’ve become very interested in getting to know you better.” He paused. “If this were a more traditional situation, I would’ve sat across from you during singing time. I would’ve asked you one or two questions while we ate cookies and drank punch. And when I’d worked up the courage, I would’ve asked if I could drive you home—”

  “I would’ve said yes,” Grace said, cutting in. “To everything.”

  Isaac reached out and took her hand, sliding it into the crook of his elbow, relaxing into a smile when Grace took his arm. “We would have dessert with your folks on our first date,” he continued. “Maybe meet up with another couple for supper on our second date.”

  “I guess not much about us has been traditional.”

  Isaac couldn’t help glancing at her, relishing the way she’d said “us.”

  “And I don’t mind that in the least,” she added.

  Isaac didn’t reply, but dropped into deep thought for a moment. He’d done everything right the first time around, he’d prayed and followed his heart and been obedient down to the letter. He’d never, ever consider himself lucky that Martha had passed away. No matter how he’d felt about her at the end, he would never be happy that Sadie was left without her mother.

  Still, because of all that, he was here with Grace now in the crisp night air. Anytime he wanted, he knew he could hold her hand, put an arm around her. Maybe he’d give her a tiny, chaste kiss. None of that would’ve been possible if their situation had started out traditionally.

  “I think I know where you’re taking me,” Grace said. As she studied him through her eyelashes, she squeezed his arm.

  “Is that so?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Honestly, Isaac hadn’t planned any kind of elaborate date, he was just looking forward to being alone with her, with them both away from the stables and dressed up, and especially with his intentions now known to her father.

  It wasn’t too much farther, and she’d see exactly where they were going. He’d walked by Annie’s Sweet Shop and Creamery a dozen times but had never gone in, though the smell of homemade waffle cones wafting out of their open doorway was always tempting. He could almost taste the fresh strawberry ice cream now.

  “Aren’t you turning here?”

  “Hmm?” Isaac asked. When he looked where Grace was pointing, he noticed that it wasn’t on the way toward anywhere. It was just a dim and silent road that led to what seemed to be an even dimmer pasture.

  “Grace Zook…” Isaac playfully squinted down at her. “Are you trying to get me alone?”

  She tilted her head. “We’re always alone.”

  “Are you trying to get me away from your father’s property, in the dark, under a full moon?”

  When she smiled and slowly blinked, her blue eyes seemed to be reflecting that very moon. “Maybe.”

  Suddenly, the last thing Isaac craved was ice cream.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Did you know I thought you were a boy when I first saw you?”

  “That day in the pasture?”

  Isaac laughed and took her hand. “That very day.”

  Grace loved how her hand fit inside his so naturally, as if it were always meant to be there. The other evening, when he’d been holding her hand, he’d said how soft her skin was. She’d nearly laughed, for she’d been working with ropes and leads and reins for most of her life. The palms of her hands were almost as rough as her father’s.

  At the time, though, she’d loved how he’d run a finger inside her palm, making her believe her skin was just as smooth as any other woman’s—any traditional Amish woman’s who worked with bread dough and oven mitts and babies instead of horses and all their rough tack.

  Isaac King certainly had a way with words, and if Grace wasn’t careful, she’d melt away under his sweet accolades.

  “That was the first time I noticed your dimple, too.”

  Grace couldn’t help smiling self-consciously, dipping her chin, blushing, because she knew her dimple was on full display.

  “Not fair. I can’t see it now—too dark,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “But wasn’t that your plan all along?”

  Grace felt another blush coming on. Although she hadn’t been the one to plan their first date, she had assumed Isaac wanted nothing more than to be alone with her, for that was her wish, too. Though she’d never been there before now, the dead-end street between the pharmacy and the bookstore was a well-known spot for couples who wanted privacy.

  But when Isaac had driven right p
ast it, Grace had to say something. It hadn’t dawned on her that Isaac wouldn’t have known about the courting spot, since he hadn’t grown up in Honey Brook. Grace felt a thrill in her stomach when Isaac had led the carriage in a circle, heading back to that dead-end street.

  Standing under the moonlight with him, she wondered if she’d be nervous. But Grace had never been so happy.

  “That’s when I noticed that hat of yours,” she said. He wasn’t wearing the cowboy-hat-shaped straw hat now, but a black brimmed one that was for more formal occasions.

  In fact, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen that other hat in a while.

  “You don’t wear it anymore,” she pointed out. “Why?”

  Isaac touched his black hat then stared forward for a moment. “Someone gave it to me.”

  When he didn’t go on, Grace wondered if it had been a gift from Martha. Though exchanging presents wasn’t customary under the Ordnung, maybe it was okay in Silver Springs. After all, she was learning how different their communities really were. At the thought, Grace couldn’t help rubbing her lips together, remembering that kiss in the barn. In Honey Brook, it was customary to save the first kiss for after the couple was engaged.

  Grace looked at his profile under the moonlight. His strong jaw, broad forehead, intense eyes. She’d easily conformed to his rules under the Ordnung rather than hers when it came to dating.

  “It was around the same time that folks started calling me Amish Cowboy,” Isaac continued. “It was an innocent nickname that the church leaders didn’t have a problem with. Anyway, one of my first customers saw it in a shop and gave it to me…maybe as a joke, I don’t know. But enough people heard about it and it became this thing. Before I knew it, I’d been wearing it for years.”

  “What changed?” Grace asked.

  “I came here.” He turned to look at her. “Everything changed when I came here.”

  Knowing she was about to be kissed, Grace’s heart started beating hard as a wonderful ball of heat formed in her stomach. In preparation, she sucked in a quick breath and closed her eyes.

  “It’s not right.”

  She loved hearing his voice when it dropped to a whisper like that, but after a moment, Grace didn’t know what his words had to do with kissing. Finally, she opened her eyes. Isaac was looking the other way.

  “What’s not right?” she asked, trying to slow her breaths.

  “Wearing that hat,” he replied. “The rules of what is proper attire are more casual in Silver Springs, but they sure aren’t here. My excuse at first was that I was an outsider, just visiting Honey Brook, so why bother changing my customs?”

  “I see how that makes sense,” Grace agreed.

  “But like I said, things changed. I don’t feel like an outsider anymore. I feel like I belong here just as much as I did back home. That hat—though still special to me—doesn’t belong here. No matter where I go, I want to be obedient, I want Gott to know I will always do what is right.”

  “Isaac…” Grace said, looking into his eyes.

  “Jah?”

  She laughed softly under her breath. “Nothing. I don’t know.” She wanted to tell him everything she was feeling. How’d she’d grown to admire him—his good, righteous example. How she knew she’d never find a more obedient man in all of Lancaster County—not a kinder man, either. And how she knew he was raising a daughter who would follow in his footsteps.

  “You miss the hat that much?” Isaac asked, touching her shoulder, then running his hand down her arm.

  Instantaneously, heat returned to Grace’s body, with a need and a longing she couldn’t explain or control. She lifted her chin, hoping he’d kiss her this time.

  “Anyway,” he said, dropping his hand that was holding her arm, “as long as I’m in Honey Brook, I won’t wear that hat.”

  “Such a stickler,” Grace said after blowing out a long breath.

  “I’m happy to say I’m guilty of that.” He shrugged but smiled. “I’m feeling guilty about some other things, too, Grace.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what happened in the barn.”

  She knew her cheeks and throat were flushing, but she didn’t care. “I don’t feel guilty about that—and I’m from Honey Brook. Why should you?”

  In a moment of bravery, she stepped up and put her arms around him, just like she would if it were Amos or her father or anyone else she’d hugged a thousand times in her life.

  But hugging Isaac King felt nothing like anyone else.

  His shirt smelled clean but with a hint of being around horses. She loved that smell, for it was a perfect definition of Isaac. His chest was solid as she rested her cheek against it. When she felt his arms go around her, she closed her eyes as swirls and flashes of lightning lit up her insides.

  “Grace.” The word was barely a whisper, and when he’d said it, his arms around her tightened.

  She exhaled contentedly, never feeling so natural than when they were together like this. She felt sure of herself and of the future. She felt strong and soft at the same time, wanting him to hold her like that until the sun came up.

  His hands moved to her shoulders, one stroking her cheek now, so gently. Grace’s limbs felt weak, knowing what was about to happen. Screaming for it to happen.

  “Open your eyes.”

  Grace was confused but obeyed. Isaac was staring down at her, his eyebrows bent. “I think we should go.”

  “Where?” Grace asked, puzzled. “Why?”

  Isaac took both of her hands in his. “Because…” He exhaled and looked down at the ground. “Because things might get out of control.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Grace insisted. When he still wouldn’t meet her gaze, she squeezed his hands. “I really do.”

  Finally, Isaac lifted his chin. The worried expression on his face was gone, and his smile was back. Seeing it made Grace breathe easy again. “I’m sure you think you do,” he said.

  It was Grace’s turn to bend her eyebrows, requesting further explanation.

  “Look,” he continued, “this is happening really fast for you—for us.” He held up their entangled hands. “We need to take it slower, more customary. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “I thought we were bucking tradition.”

  He chuckled under his breath. “You know I’d never really do that. Our customs might not be the same, but I am traditional at heart. I love our church and way of life. Always have.” Despite his speech, he lifted their hands, kissing the back of hers then pressing it against his cheek.

  “Mm-hmm,” Grace hummed, not sure if she believed him 100 percent, but she did know she trusted him. Yes, when it came to courtship, he was the one with experience, not her, and Grace would never, ever want to be in a position where she had to choose between obedience and sin.

  “Where to?” she asked as they strolled back to the carriage. Something about how it was parked under a bright streetlamp made Grace feel serene, obedient. Maybe she had been about to take things too far. Maybe a relationship like theirs was meant to always be in the light.

  “Ice cream,” Isaac said.

  “Annie’s?” Grace asked with a big smile.

  “You read my mind.”

  As he was about to help her into the carriage, Grace said, “We can walk from here. Give Scout more of a rest.”

  “Sounds good.” Isaac grinned then scooped up her hand.

  Together, they crossed the street then began walking up the sidewalk. Most of the shops were closed, but the few that were open were brightly lit. A handful of couples and families—both English and plain—strolled along the streets, happy to be outside after all the rain.

  There was a line to get into Annie’s to order their ice cream, but Grace didn’t mind. As they stood side by side, they fell into a comfortable conversation. Grace was ama
zed by how she could say anything to him. When he suggested a new training method for Cincinnati, Grace had a different idea in mind and had no problem sharing it with him.

  “I think that might be even better,” he said without an ounce of pride. “I know he’s been raring to jump.”

  “Jah,” Grace said, smiling. “And the ground should be dry enough tomorrow. His training has been structured so far; I think a day of free jumping will really get him ready.”

  “Do you have bounce rails?”

  Grace nodded as they moved closer to the front of the line. “You’ve got a really nice, rising trot with him; I think you should do it first.”

  “I was about to say the same thing to you.”

  “No, no. Your balance is much better.”

  When Isaac lifted a hand, probably to deny it, Grace started laughing. “We’re not getting anywhere with this.”

  They moved up a few more places in line. “How about whoever is in the stables earliest tomorrow morning gets to pick.”

  She grinned, knowing there was no way Isaac would win. “Good idea.”

  When Isaac began speaking to the person in line ahead of them, Grace let her eyes flutter closed as she sighed. She’d never worked so well with anybody, not even Daed. In the past few weeks, there’d been moments when it felt as though Isaac knew her thoughts before she did. Cincinnati had come to them as a wild, unruly animal. But because of their teamwork, the gaul was on his way to being a champion.

  In Grace’s mind, it had been almost organic for that teamwork to transfer into feelings of trust and admiration, and then into a blooming relationship that grew stronger day by day.

  “Well, look who’s here.”

  Grace opened her eyes to see three young men standing next to them in line. The one who’d just addressed them looked familiar, though Grace couldn’t place him. It was strange, however, because when he locked eyes with her, Grace’s stomach automatically tightened.

  “Wade, hello,” Isaac said. “How are you?”

 

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