And he wasn’t alone in his opinions, Luke knew. Truth be told, Luke did feel some responsibility to do just that. But he wanted his heart to be in it, too. He wanted to want it. To want it more than anything.
Dear Gott, he whispered. What am I to do?
Luke wasn’t blind to the irony of his prayer.
Ariel Youngman never prayed. She meditated, which as far as Luke could determine was near the same thing. But Ariel insisted it wasn’t. He hadn’t argued with her. He’d been too intrigued. Ariel talked a lot about following one’s bliss—whatever that meant. Yet, she wasn’t always the happiest of people. If she was following her bliss, it didn’t always work.
Luke continued standing there, watching his father until he became a speck in the distance. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned back toward the house. Robert was crossing the field again, right toward him.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
Luke met him. “Not well.”
“He wants you back home,” Robert said. “He might not say so, but he does.”
Luke grimaced. “I know. He wants me home, but only under his conditions.” He looked at his brother. “Did you get baptized?”
“Jah. Last year. You were gone.”
“So, you’ve joined church.”
“Jah.” Robert blushed. “I’ve got my eye on Penny Mast.”
Luke grinned. “Do you now?”
Robert’s blush deepened. “I do.”
“Question is, does she have her eye on you?”
He nodded and kicked a clod of dirt. “Jah.”
“That’s wonderful gut news. You going to make it official?”
“I’m thinkin’ on it.”
“Well, Mamm will be ecstatic, I’m sure.” Luke thought for a minute. “Isn’t Penny Mast that little red-headed girl you used to tease in sixth grade?”
Robert shrugged. “I never teased her … much.”
Luke laughed. “Well, gut for you, brother.” He clapped him on the back and took off again toward the house.
Chapter Seven
Nancy tucked Zeke into his crib for a late afternoon nap. Debbie had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor, and Nancy had carried her to her bed for a short lie-down also. Then she went to her own bedroom to write her sister. Truth was, she didn’t really want to, but she knew Linda would be waiting.
Nancy walked to her window and looked over the yard. Luke wasn’t there. She wondered if he’d gone home, and if maybe, he wasn’t coming back to stay at Irene’s. The thought filled her with a sense of loss, which seemed out of all proportion to the circumstances. After all, she hardly knew the man. Why should she care where he stayed?
Grimacing at herself, she walked back to her bed and plopped down on the quilt. She took out her stationery supplies and began her letter.
Dear Linda,
It was nice to hear from you. Things are busy around here, what with the new baby and all. I am enjoying caring for him. He’s as cute as a button and already growing so fast.
We went to a quilting, and I held the baby while Irene sewed. That arrangement suited me just fine as you know sewing is not my favorite activity, much to Mamm’s consternation. Ha! Truth be told, I could skip all the quiltings and not miss them a bit. Unless, of course, I have a sweet boppli to attend.
Little Debbie is talking more and more each day. She’s an active one. But she still naps at least once a day, which is nice to get some baking and cleaning done.
Nancy paused and chewed on the tip of her pen. Did she dare ask what she really wanted to know? Or should she just pretend it might not be happening. This was Linda, though, and Linda probably knew her best in the whole world. Still, Nancy hesitated. If the family knew she had written, they would expect Linda to read the entire letter aloud. Or worse yet, Mamm would ask to read it for herself.
Nancy had to be careful what she wrote.
But she didn’t think anyone would actually open the envelope if it was addressed to Linda, so she took out an extra piece of stationery. She would write a private note for Linda’s eyes only. Then Linda could then share the other letter with the whole household. That should work to satisfy the rest of the family.
Nancy finished the public portion:
Aenti Doris’s friend’s son, Luke Rupp, is staying with us for a spell. He’s helping Philip out in the fields, which is much appreciated. Speaking of Aenti Doris … I have visited her a couple of times. She seems poorly, and I know she’d appreciate a letter from the family. I’ll keep checking on her. Irene and I took the children over so she could hold the boppli, which made her very happy.
I hope all is going well with you. I miss you. Give everyone in Linnow Creek my greetings.
Your loving sister,
Nancy
There, that should do it. She took the second piece of writing paper and began her private message.
Dear Linda,
This letter is for your eyes only. I know you want me to forgive Susan for what she did. Sometimes, I feel like I have. Other times, I’m not so sure. To be truthful, I’m not sure I know exactly how to forgive her. Do I just say it’s all right? What she did was all right?
Because it wasn’t. You know that. Everyone knows that.
I will get over it. I do believe that. But I’m happy I’m here and not there. How would I be able to be in the same room with the two of them? How would I be able to look Susan in the eye? Or more to the point, how could she look me in the eye?
Although, she didn’t seem to have any problem with that when I was there.
What I really want to know is, are they going to be published? Has Susan shared that with you yet? I think it would help me to know for sure.
How are you, Linda? How are things going for you? I know we’re heading into planting season and all our chores will multiply. Do you think you could come visit me here? Irene would be delighted to see you.
I’ll sign off now. Thank you for keeping this letter private.
Your sister,
Nancy
Nancy folded both letters and placed them in the envelope. She attached a stamp and ran downstairs and out the front door. The mailbox was out on the main road. Once she was outside, she slowed her pace, feeling the sun on her face and hearing the birds twitter as they flitted about, looking for string and long grasses. Nancy loved springtime. And how wonderful that it seemed to have arrived earlier than usual that year. She remembered well those times they’d gotten snow and ice as late as May.
But this year, it was different. Spring was definitely in the air. She gave a rueful smile. She knew that Indiana weather could change on a dime, plummeting thirty or forty degrees overnight. But she was going to assume spring had come, and she was going to enjoy it.
As she picked up her step, a feeling of lightness filled her. She was glad she wasn’t back in Linnow Creek. She liked Hollybrook.
“Hello.”
Nancy stopped short. She’d been so entrenched in her own thoughts, she hadn’t even seen Luke until she was practically upon him.
“Hello.”
Luke had put his feet down on the dirt, stopped his bike, and taken off his hat. He looked up at the sun and smiled. “Nice day, ain’t so?”
She nodded. “It is. Spring has come, I’m thinkin’.”
He grinned at her. “Maybe.”
“I’m declaring that it has,” she said, with a song in her voice. “I refuse to even entertain the thought of a late frost.”
He put his hat back on and studied her. “You refuse to entertain…”
Nancy felt her cheeks go hot. She supposed that was an odd way of phrasing the thing. “You know what I mean,” she said.
“Oh, jah. No doubt about that.” He chuckled and started to leave, rolling his bike along.
“You stayin’ here?” Nancy blurted out and then clapped her hand over her mouth. Why’d she ask that? It wasn’t her business.
He cocked one eyebrow. “Who’s wanting to know?”
She bit her lower lip.<
br />
He continued. “Did Irene send you out here to find out?”
“Nee,” she cried. “Of course not.”
He slapped his thigh and laughed. “Just jokin’ with you.”
“She and Philip are glad you’re here.” And so am I, she silently added, wondering at herself.
Luke’s face clouded. “At least, someone is glad.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ach, nothing. I talk too much.” He started to turn away.
“No, really. What do you mean?”
He sighed heavily. “My dat wouldn’t think so.”
She frowned. “Surely, you’re mistaken. He must be mighty glad to see you.”
“There’s the thing. One might hope so, but it ain’t that way.”
“Why not?” Nancy cringed at her own boldness, but she held her ground. She truly wanted to know, whether it was her business or not.
He laid his bike in the dirt and took a step closer to her. “You’ve probably heard I ain’t joined church.”
She felt her cheeks turn red, and she gazed at her feet.
“I guess you have.” He gave a wry chuckle. “It ain’t a secret. I’m twenty-four years old, Nancy. Most guys my age have been part of church for years. They’re married. Lots of them with kinner.”
“It’s not so old,” she murmured.
“You’re just being nice.”
She glanced up and met his gaze. She shrugged. “Maybe, I am.”
“Oh, you are.” He smiled at her. “My dat sees me as his failure.”
“His failure? That seems awful harsh.”
“Not really. Not according to him.”
“But … isn’t the decision to be baptized and join church personal? I mean, doesn’t it come from a person’s heart?”
Luke stared at her, and Nancy squirmed under his scrutiny.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You talk like the Englisch.”
She balked, stepping back. Her lips parted, and she blinked rapidly, trying to think of a response.
“Wait,” he said, touching her arm. “You think I’m insultin’ you. I’m not. I didn’t mean it that way.”
She gaped at his hand on her arm. The warmth of his touch sent a shock through her. What was he thinking to be touching her? They were almost complete strangers.
His eyes followed hers, and he snatched his hand away. “I’m sorry. Ach, I forgot where I was.”
She stood there, knowing she should flee, but she was quite incapable of moving her feet.
“I’ve been in the fancy world a lot of late…” he started, and then his words faded into nothing. His eyes didn’t leave her face.
“Your rumspringa…” she whispered.
“Jah.” He became more animated. “My rumspringa that has lasted an eternity…”
She smiled at that.
“I s’pose it does sound funny. But it really isn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to … well, I couldn’t make myself…” Again, his words faded.
“You didn’t want to return,” she said softly. “So, why did you?”
“That’s just it. I did want to return.” His eyes grew intense on hers. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come.”
“So, you didn’t come out of obligation?”
He shook his head. “I know your implication. The Amish way of life is an obligation. I know that. But I don’t agree with it.”
Her eyebrows raised.
“If I’m going to be an Amish man, I want it to be more than obligation. I want to want to. You know? I want to feel that commitment to Gott and His ways in our community.”
“But—”
He raised his hand. “You don’t have to try and talk sense into me. I understand. I understand it all. It’s been poured into my head since I was a boppli.”
She drew herself up. “I wasn’t going to try and talk sense into you. It’s your business.”
“You aren’t going to lecture me on my need to join church?”
She pulled a face. “Why should I?”
He leaned forward. “Because you’re a gut Amish girl, that’s why.”
His words were passionate, and they grated against Nancy’s ears. “You have me all figured out, do you?” she said, unable to keep the cutting edge from her tone.
He winced slightly. “I think I understand enough.”
Now it was her turn to lean forward. “You don’t understand anything.”
His mouth fell open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think you have the lot of us pegged, me included. You’re as bad as the fancy people. They think they know all about us. They go to a movie or read a book or gawk at us in public, and they think they know who we are. We’re a group to them. Not people. Not a boy with a dream or a girl with feelings.” She took a huge breath, already regretting the entire conversation.
“But we are a group. That’s what makes us strong.”
“Maybe. But we’re also people. I’m a person.”
Luke shook his head. “Don’t let my dat hear you talk.”
She raised her chin. “I don’t care who hears me talk.” But that wasn’t true. She did care—she cared greatly.
“Then I stand corrected,” Luke said. He touched the brim of his hat with two fingers as if he were saluting her.
She swallowed. “I talk too much.”
He threw back his head and laughed, a freeing sound, filling the air around them. “Didn’t I just say the same thing?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose you did.”
“Nancy Slagel. You are a mystery.”
Her eyes widened. “Hardly.”
“Nee. You are.” He inclined forward, until his face was inches from hers. Her instincts were to back up, to get out of there, but once again, her feet wouldn’t budge. He brushed his lips over her cheek with a gentle kiss.
She tensed, every muscle in her growing hard. Had he just kissed her? She sucked in a long breath.
“Before you go running away, I’m sorry,” he said, quickly backing up. “I had no right to do that. Like I said, I’ve been in the world of late, and I forgot myself. Forgive me. It won’t happen again.”
He hurried away, walking briskly with his long, graceful stride. She stared after him, her face aflame. She raised her hand and fingered her cheek where his lips had touched her skin. She still felt his warmth there.
She needed to stay away from him. Far, far away. He was dangerous. She felt it deep within her … but if that was so, why did she have a sudden urge—an almost overwhelming urge—to run after him. To detain him. To talk with him some more?
Chapter Eight
Luke groaned. What in the blazes was wrong with him? He’d kissed her! Flat out kissed her. Was he stark raving mad? She’d never look at him again. Never.
And he wanted her to.
He groaned again as he walked straight into the barn, rolling the bike along beside him. He leaned it against the far wall and stood there. He was like a lost child, and it angered him. Why couldn’t he know already what he wanted to do in life? Didn’t he want to farm? Didn’t he want to stay there in the community? And marry a nice girl—why did Nancy come to mind—and settle down. Didn’t he want to make his father happy? And his mother? Didn’t he want to stop the wagging tongues about him…?
He closed his eyes, thoroughly disgusted. Even Robert, his younger brother, was on a straight path. The rest of his siblings were, too. So, what was wrong with him? He walked over to the stall where the pony Blackie was snorting and pushing against the door. The door rattled as Luke grew closer.
“Blackie, how are you, boy?” He reached out and stroked the horse’s nose. “What a name they gave you. Not very original, huh?”
The horse neighed and tossed his head.
“I don’t have a thing for you. Not an apple, not a carrot, not a sugar cube.” Luke chuckled. “I need to be more prepared, don’t I?” His expression grew solemn. “In life, too,” he adde
d, wryly.
What was holding him back, anyway? He’d returned, hadn’t he? He’d grown weary of his double life. His mind flitted to Ariel. He wondered what she was doing that evening. Probably meeting up with her friends and going out on the town somewhere. He grimaced. They’d been his friends, too, up until a couple days ago.
They were a fun lot. Open and eager to try anything. Luke hadn’t indulged in everything they did; it didn’t feel right. After a few months of calling him names, they’d come to accept him, though. They quit teasing him when he turned down alcohol, or when he refused to smoke a joint.
The last thing he needed was to be hauled off to jail for drugs. He could just imagine the headlines that would make. But he wasn’t interested anyway. He could see no benefit from losing his lucidity. He never could understand how it was fun not to remember what you’d done the night before. Plus, he’d had more than his share of holding Ariel’s hair back when she bent over to vomit up her excess of booze.
But still, he’d been crazy about the girl. She didn’t party hard very often, and her normal state was basically happy. Even with her rare dips in mood, she was one of the most balanced people he knew—always laughing and flitting about from one interesting topic to the next. The girl was curious about everything. She wanted to try everything. And she usually did.
Luke had never known anyone like her.
Blackie pushed against his shoulder. “Sorry, old boy. I got distracted.” He rubbed the pony’s nose a bit more than patted him on the neck and left the barn. He imagined the family was already sitting down to supper. He wondered if Nancy would tell them he was back, and if they’d be waiting for him.
If so, it was rude to dawdle. He blew out his breath. He had no desire to sit anywhere near Nancy at the moment. She must think him a complete scoundrel. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Kisses couldn’t be taken back. What was done was done.
But he was going to make darn sure that he kept his distance from her in the future.
The family hadn’t waited. Which meant that Nancy hadn’t told them he was there.
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