“Dude, you’ve got it bad.”
“Huh?” Lucas turned to Mike, having almost forgotten he was there. “What do you mean?”
“Look, I know nothing, and I mean nothing. But I do know what it looks like when a guy is hung up on a girl. I’m a high school counselor, remember?”
“Thought you said you know nothing.”
Mike laughed. “Have you asked her out?”
“Not possible.”
And there were a million reasons why. The most important being Jacob.
“Because she’s Amish?” Mike glanced over his shoulder to where Esther had disappeared. “She’s Amish, right? And you used to be.”
Lucas looked at him. “How did you…?”
“That fateful day of the snakebite.” Mike held up his arm, pointing at his elbow. “You talked about it, probably to keep me calm, assuming I wasn’t listening. You talked about it pretty fondly, man.”
“All of that was a lifetime ago.”
“But you came back here to live on purpose, where you were Amish.” Mike crossed his arms. “What’s stopping you from being Amish again? Is it that hard to return to the flock or fold or whatever?”
Lucas couldn’t help chuckling, not offended in the least. “It’s not impossible. There’s a reconciliation process with the church—I hear it’s pretty strict.”
“You backing down from a challenge?”
He was about to mention his father, and how there was no way the brethren would allow him to return to full fellowship if he refused to even speak to him. But that was too personal to talk about. Although he had discussed it somewhat with Esther.
“There are certain things I’d have to give up,” he said as he walked toward the buggy, knowing they had a lot of work to do.
“Didn’t you say you cut your cable last week? And you’ve never given the impression that you care a hoot about fashion.”
“This is cashmere,” Lucas said, pulling at his sweater. Then he felt instant shame for not only the comment but for having bought the materialistic piece of clothing in the first place. He’d had it for years, but was that any excuse?
Then again, it wasn’t as if he was Amish. So why the guilt?
“It’s more complicated than just doing without lights or a car,” he added, perhaps for his own benefit. “I mean practicing medicine.”
“Oh.” Mike was silent for a moment, then nodded. “That would be a huge sacrifice for you.”
“Not to sound too out-there, but I feel like it’s why I was put on the earth, not just to heal people but to educate about disease prevention and general health and nutrition.”
“You couldn’t do that if you were Amish again?”
Lucas sighed. The topic was giving him a headache, and he began rubbing hard at his temples, trying to jog free some kind of answer his buddy would understand. But he couldn’t come up with anything to appease even himself.
“Sorry, Lucas,” Mike said after a long stretch of silence. “I’m making light of something that’s obviously important to you. We can drop the subject.”
“Danke,” Lucas said.
“Hey, that’s Amish talk.” Mike pointed at Lucas, grinning. “I’m just sayin’.”
“Okay, okay, so it’s still inside me and maybe coming out more often the longer I live here, but…”
“But?” Mike prompted as they carefully dragged the buggy to the front of his truck to utilize the headlights.
Lucas recalled what Esther had said about being trapped between two worlds. He’d never felt that more literally than right now: Googling how to fuse iron to repair a horse-drawn buggy.
“But I’m not ready to completely change my life…and no,” he added to cut off Mike, “not even for a girl.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Except for one corner, the house was dark. Maybe her parents had left a lamp on. After giving Peanut an extra dozen loving strokes and two carrots from the side garden, Esther trod lightly across the living room floor, ready to say another prayer of thanks before having the most comforting night of dreams.
“Esther?”
“Oh!” She whipped around, cupping her mouth to muffle the cry. “I thought everyone was in bed.”
“I wanted to finish scrubbing these,” Maam said, pointing to the pile of potatoes on the table, a small gas lamp illuminated at her side. “Wedding season’s around the corner—Sarah’s is first. We’re feeding practically everyone in town twice.”
“Let me help!” Esther screeched out of nervousness but also guilt for not helping with the meal preparations. She and Sarah had decided on the food for the two wedding day meals, but after that, Esther hadn’t given it another thought.
Too wrapped up in my head, worrying only about my problems. Spending my free time making soaps or meeting Lucas.
Quickly, she grabbed a potato and began scrubbing at it with a brush. “How’s the concert planning going?” she asked.
“Shouldn’t you know better than I would?”
“Why?”
Maam lowered the potato in her hand. “You were with Louisa. She’s head of the committee.”
Esther’s heart jolted to a stop, knowing her face was about to turn beet red. “Oh. Yes,” she said, grateful for the dimness of the room. “Yes.” Even through the single syllable, she heard her voice tremble.
Little white lie…
Before she’d left home, she thought she’d implied to Maam she was delivering soap to Leah, but that must’ve been what she’d told Daed. Before now, Esther had never told a real lie, and she was obviously no good at it.
Maam went back to her scrubbing. “You had a pleasant evening?”
“Yes,” Esther said, scrubbing harder, keeping her gaze lowered. “Very.”
“Darling, where’s your prayer kapp?”
Esther froze, remembering far too late that her hair was still a bit damp, as was her dress. “It blew off in the wind and I didn’t notice. I got Peanut galloping pretty fast.”
“Do you have a spare?”
“I can wear my thinner one from spring until I make a new one.”
“One of these afternoons, why don’t you take your little brothers and sister into town for some material?”
“Okay,” Esther said, feeling a bit more relaxed—though that managed to add to the guilt.
“It’s very late, and it looks as though you’ve had an adventure.” Maam touched a loose strand of her hair. “Go on to bed. You can help me in the morning.”
Esther should’ve protested and stayed longer, but she knew full well that her mother was a master at seeing straight to the truth. Esther couldn’t risk her discovering that she’d been spending all this time with Lucas, feeling things she couldn’t even admit to herself. Moreover, if Maam knew Lucas was back in town, she would surely tell his family. And that was not Esther’s secret to divulge.
“Night, Maam,” she said, heading to the stairs.
“Oh, Es?” her mother called in a soft whisper. “I heard Kings Mercantile got a new shipment of fabric. Why not shop there?”
You mean the store in town right next to the medical clinic? Only if you insist…
“What’s going on?” Sarah was rubbing her eyes as she stood on the landing.
“Did we wake you?” Maam asked.
Her sister yawned, passing Esther on the stairs. “Couldn’t sleep. Can I have some cocoa?”
Maam began humming and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “How about I make some for all of us?” She looked up the stairs at Esther.
She felt mighty sleepy after the excitement of the buggy crash and meeting Mike and riding home on Peanut. So much had happened that evening, she’d need a really long night’s rest to take it all in.
But then she looked at her sister, staring up at her from a stool pulled up to the kitchen counter, her white nightgown
flowing past her bare feet. How many more cozy evenings would they have like this before Sarah was married?
“I’ll heat the milk,” Esther said, undoing the tight bun so her heavy hair could fall loose, then suddenly remembering how Lucas had seen her without her head covering. At the memory, she felt the sensation of blood rushing up the back of her neck until she shivered girlishly.
“Are you okay? You look flushed.” Sarah leaned away from her. “I hope you don’t have anything contagious that I’ll catch.”
“It’s warm in here,” Esther said as she pulled the milk jug from the gas-powered refrigerator. “I’ve just come in from outside. Weather’s really turning.”
“You just got home?” Sarah was playing with the ruffles on the end of her nightgown sleeve. “What time is it?”
As if on cue, the clock above the mantel chimed ten times. Esther’s throat went dry, not sure if she needed to reply now. What if Sarah inquired where she’d been tonight and what she’d done? Maam could’ve asked the same questions but hadn’t.
Why not?
“Your sister and Amos met with the bishop today.” Maam pulled out a saucepan for the milk.
“Oh? How did it go?” Esther asked, relieved at the smooth change of subject.
“It was fine. I have to admit, I was kind of dreading these last few counsels with him. I knew we’d be talking about…” Sarah paused to shoot a glance up the stairs. “Embarrassing things.”
Esther thought back, not recalling any of her premarriage counseling meetings as embarrassing. But then she remembered she and Jacob had only just begun their sessions when he’d passed away.
“Embarrassing things?” she asked. “Like what?”
When her sister didn’t answer, she looked up to find Sarah sharing a peculiar look with Maam.
“What?” Esther said, picking up a wooden spoon to stir the warming milk.
Maam shrugged one shoulder, and Sarah glanced up at the ceiling—both obviously averting their eyes from her.
“You know,” Sarah finally began, “that part in Genesis.”
Esther pushed out her bottom lip. “Noah’s ark? The pharaoh’s dream?”
“No.” Sarah grabbed the wooden spoon and took over the stirring. “The part about how a man shall leave his father and shall, um, cleave unto his wife.” Slowly she lifted her eyes to look at Esther. “And they shall be one flesh.”
“Huh,” Esther said at first, then, “oh! Oh, that part.”
“Yes.” Sarah exhaled and began stirring faster. “That part.”
Heat flooded Esther’s chest, neck, and face—she was probably blushing right up to the tip of her head. She averted her eyes, too, and it became so quiet she could’ve heard a hairpin drop.
From out of nowhere, she replayed the exact moment when Lucas had fallen on top of her during the buggy crash. She stared into space, remembering the weight of him, the smell and feel of his face at her bare neck. How she’d thought for one split second that she didn’t want him to move away.
A moment later, Maam started snickering, sounding like little Evie. When Esther looked up, Sarah’s lips were pressed together hard, but then she burst into giggles.
“Cleave,” Esther couldn’t help saying as she joined in on the laughter. “Such a descriptive word, isn’t so?”
This set Maam to laughing even harder, her body shaking as she wiped her eyes with her long apron. “Oh, I’m glad we finally had this little talk, girls.”
The three of them burst into another fit of giggles, holding on to one another so they wouldn’t collapse.
“How did Amos take it?” Esther asked, needing to dab at her eyes now.
“He’s always been sheltered,” Sarah said. “And the bishop wasn’t exactly blunt. I fear I’ll have to explain everything.” She lifted the wooden spoon, testing the temperature of the milk. “Remind me to bring a drawing pad to our next counseling session.”
“Naughty talk!” Maam said, looking like she was trying to keep a straight face.
“It was surprising, though,” Sarah added. “Bishop’s so old and yet he knows…a lot.”
It was no use. Once the giggling started up again, it would not cease until the last of them went to bed. Esther pulled down three mugs, keeping an arm around Sarah’s waist as she poured in a scoop of chocolate powder, knowing she’d never forget this evening as long as she lived.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lucas couldn’t stop from yawning as he walked. A soft pink glow along the horizon was the first sign of sunrise. Following Esther’s orders, he’d made sure her buggy was back home before six.
It hadn’t taken long for him and Mike to repair the broken wheel. In his youth when he’d had free access to the family’s buggies, he’d busted more than a few wheels, axles, and frames.
As he cut through the corner of a field, he smiled when he remembered the time his older brother, Jeremiah, had snuck out their father’s best open buggy for a moonlight joyride. Even though he’d left Lucas behind, Jeremiah had woken him up in the middle of the night to help him fix a dent in the door.
While they’d worked, Jeremiah had told Lucas about his midnight antics. They’d become best friends that night and, over the next few years, spent hours together, working side by side at the family mill.
It was useless not to admit how much he missed his family—so much some days, it made him sick.
Though he still couldn’t allow himself to regret his reason for leaving. Until he did, they couldn’t welcome him back.
“Luke?”
Stopping in his tracks, Lucas turned, shading his eyes as he stared into the bright morning sunshine. A man holding a hoe stood near a tree ten yards away. For an eerie moment, Lucas wondered if he’d conjured a ghost.
“Luke,” the man repeated, removing his hat.
Unsure if what he was seeing was real or if his memory was creating a vivid hallucination, Lucas didn’t move as the vision came closer…growing larger, taller, broader shoulders than he’d remembered, thicker arms, hair with a hint of red, unlike the rest of the family.
His intense gaze, however, and that scar on his forehead, Lucas would know anywhere.
“Jerry?” he spoke around the lump in his throat.
The man stopped mere feet away. “Brother,” he said, looking as bemused as Lucas felt.
Lucas was tongue-tied. He could admit to himself now that he’d returned to Honey Brook to be near where he’d grown up—the place he still thought of as home. But he’d never actually intended on seeing his family.
Twenty-eight-year-old Jeremiah had lines on his face, shooting out from the corners of his eyes. He looked healthy and strong but weathered from ten years of labor. Judging by the length of his beard, his brother had been married a while.
“Just passing through the area?” Jeremiah asked after a stretch of silence.
“I’ve been here nearly seven months.”
“Living here?” His brother’s bushy eyebrows shot up, almost touching his bangs.
“I’m a PA at the clinic. Physician’s assistant. Live three miles north of town.”
With his brows still raised, Jeremiah slowly shook his head. “I heard something months ago, but when you never came by…”
“Besides my office, I try to stay far from… Well, no need for anyone to know.”
“Why?”
Lucas laughed nervously. “I didn’t come back to make trouble or cause conflict in the community. I know how things were when I left.”
“When you left…” Jeremiah repeated, leaning on the hoe. “That was a long time ago.”
“Jah.” Lucas nodded, aping his brother’s strong Amish accent. “This your land?” He gestured at the rows of pepper plants and fruit trees.
“Aye. When Lizzy’s father took ill, we moved in.”
Lucas smiled. “You mar
ried Elizabeth Hooley. You were courting her last I remember.”
Jeremiah smiled back. “Took me a while to talk her into it, but I finally wore her down.”
“That’s wonderful to hear, wunderbar.” Without thinking, Lucas extended a hand. “Congratulations.” When his brother eyed the outstretched limb like it was a poisonous snake, he immediately dropped it, feeling a spiky knot in his stomach.
Another ten years passed until Jeremiah reached out to shake his hand. “Danke, bruder,” he said. “That means a lot.”
“Lizzy Hooley.” Lucas laughed again, rubbing his chin. “Did you know when we were in school together, she gave me a black eye?”
His brother crossed his arms. “Why’d she do that?”
“Well, she claimed it was an accident, throwing the atlas at me when I wasn’t looking. But I’d been teasing her about her freckles right before, so…” He shrugged.
Jeremiah chuckled. “She’s always had good aim. So what are you doing out this way? You said you live north of town.”
The list of inappropriateness was a mile long when he considered explaining how he’d just returned Moses Miller’s Esther’s buggy because they’d crashed it into the shoulder after he’d cooked her dinner at his house.
“You were at the Millers’?”
Mid-inhale, Lucas’s breath stalled in his chest.
“I saw you come from that way.” After wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, Jeremiah put his hat back on. “A mite early to be visiting folks.”
Lucas felt some relief that his brother hadn’t mentioned seeing him towing a buggy like a draft horse.
“Not visiting,” he said, trying to stay close to the truth. “Just dropping something off—not a big deal. So…you’re a farmer now. I don’t recall that being your life’s ambition.”
Jeremiah kicked a clot of dirt. “I was always good at it. Daed had me in his gardens since before I could walk. Lizzy grew up on a vegetable farm and knows everything about planting and harvesting. It’s hard work but—”
“Better hours than a dairy farmer,” the brothers said in unison.
Reciting the old joke felt as familiar as the smell of their mother’s homemade pumpkin bread. Lucas pursed his lips and looked at his brother, trying to fight back what he wanted to say to his one-time best friend.
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