“What’s that?” he asked after shifting into reverse.
“A picnic.”
“For us?”
She nodded. “Mary Weaver gave me directions to a spot she said is really nice.” She smiled and sat back. “Drive east. I’ll tell you when to turn.”
Lucas knew better than to ask questions, so he backed up, then headed due east, the sun peeking through the clouds.
“How’s work at the clinic?” she asked, rolling down the window again.
Prepared to share nothing gorier than the three flu shots he’d administered, Lucas suddenly decided to go a different way. “I’m treating a fourteen-year-old boy,” he began, gripping the steering wheel. “The other day when I told you I’d be out of town, I went with him and his father to the Hershey Medical Center.”
“Can I ask what’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know yet; that’s the problem. And he’s Amish.”
Esther rolled up her window so the car was quiet. “Does that make his illness more difficult to cure?”
“It definitely won’t in this case. The father is prepared for treatment. He said he’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t mind telling you that was a huge relief to hear. We’re still waiting on test results. I’m hopeful but”—he paused to run a fist over his mouth—“I’ve seen too many worst-case scenarios. He seems like a good kid, and his father’s pretty great.”
When it was silent for a moment, Lucas glanced at Esther. She was chewing on a thumbnail—which he recognized now as one of her nervous tics.
“What do you want to know?” he asked her.
After a sigh, she lowered her hand. “What test did he have at the hospital?”
Now was Lucas’s turn to fall silent. Esther sure had a way of drilling right down to the point. “Bone marrow,” he finally said, hearing his voice thicken.
“Oh, Lucas.” Esther’s whisper sounded broken, too. “I’m so sorry.”
Neither had to say who they were both thinking about.
“It’s…” When he didn’t finish the sentence, Esther reached out and placed her hand on his where it was still clutching the steering wheel. It was soft and warm, comforting in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. He loosened his grip, allowing his fingers to curl around hers.
It wasn’t a good idea, he knew it wasn’t, yet he couldn’t let go. Since she’d held his hand so tenderly the day before, it was all he could think about, wondering if he’d ever touch her like that again.
“You’re a good man, Lucas,” she said, breaking the silence. “I hope you know that.”
He could only shrug, feeling light-headed when she placed her other hand around his.
“What’s his name?”
“Tanner.”
“Tanner,” Esther repeated. “I have a second cousin in Ohio with that name.” She squeezed his hand. “Tanner’s going to get better. I know I’m not a medical expert, but he will.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said, then couldn’t resist repositioning their hands so their fingers interlocked. He took his eyes off the road for one long moment, needing to read her expression.
Moses Miller’s Esther was smiling, lovely blue eyes fixed on him, the faintest hint of a blush on her beautiful face.
The urge inside him was almost painful. Why was he allowing himself to feel attracted to a woman he couldn’t have?
“Sorry,” he said, dropping her hand so he could take the wheel after purposefully driving over a bump. “I think we’re almost there.”
Esther glanced down at the map. “How would you know?”
“I have a feeling for these things.”
“Oh yeah?” He couldn’t help hearing the flirty tone in both their voices. He should’ve been man enough to control himself, but today he didn’t care. “Fork in the road.”
“Yep,” she said, consulting the map again. “Left for a bit, then pull off by that willow.”
Lucas obeyed, following Esther’s orders as if they were a couple in real life—still playing the “what if?” game.
“Over there.” Esther pointed at a lush meadow with ankle-high green grass and wildflowers. Trees with yellow and orange leaves created a natural perimeter.
“It rained all morning,” he said, lamely pointing out the obvious.
Esther glanced at him from over her shoulder. “Is it raining now?”
He dipped his chin and chuckled. “No, ma’am.”
She displayed a blanket under her arm. After parking, Lucas carried the basket, following behind, letting Esther lead the way. After turning in a circle, she finally declared this was the place and spread out the thick wool blanket—easily thick enough to protect them from the damp ground.
“You’ve had a good few days,” she said while unloading the food, her dark red dress and black cloak flaring out around her.
“That’s an understatement.”
The tinkle of her laughter coiled around his heart. “Jeremiah and Lizzy are clearly thrilled to have you back. And you should’ve seen the boys light up when they heard you arrive.”
Another gush of warmth spread through him, recalling how his youngest nephew had run straight to him, asking to play flying angel again. “I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but it’s like a miracle.”
She handed him a sandwich wrapped in a cloth napkin. “That doesn’t sound so dramatic.”
“I just wish—” He cut himself off and stared into the middle distance, wondering if he was really about to share what was in his heart. “I guess I wish for more. I wish it could be like it was.”
Esther placed her sandwich on her lap. “What does that mean?”
He rubbed his palms together, then made double fists, trying to settle his suddenly twitchy muscles. “I had a good life here; I remember that. I had beliefs and faith in things more important than science could prove. Even back when I was planning on leaving home to help Jacob, I felt a higher power guiding me. And now, I’m somehow back where I started.” He let out a long exhale, focusing on one puffy white cloud. “I wonder if coming full circle is even possible—”
“It is,” Esther blurted as if she’d had the words ready for a week.
It was quiet for a moment, until the birds, possibly itching to stretch their wings after the rain, began chirping and singing.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, “but I couldn’t let you doubt that.” She put her sandwich back in the basket, then shifted her sitting position so she was an inch or two closer to him. The movement made the hair on Lucas’s arms stand up.
“Gott loves us and knows us down to the most private corners in our hearts. You’re the one who reminded me of that,” she added. “We’re taught repentance on a literal level. If we change our hearts and confess our sins, we can be forgiven of anything.” She paused, clasping and unclasping her hands until they settled in the prayer position. “Do you believe that?”
Lucas couldn’t help closing his eyes, recalling an incident just that morning after he’d offered a silent prayer before breakfast. He’d paused at the end, allowing his soul to rest in a moment of meditation. When his thoughts drifted to the possibility of coming home—really coming home all the way—the peace that had swept over him was almost all-encompassing.
“I do.” The words drifted out as a whisper. When he opened his eyes, sweet Esther Miller wore the most compassionate smile on her lovely face.
As a wave of unidentifiable emotion swept over his body, his chest burned, while his limbs felt nearly too heavy to move. Still, he couldn’t help himself.
Without thinking, he scooted so he was sitting directly in front of her, then reached out and cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her skin. He was so close that he both heard and felt her take in a sharp inhale.
He hadn’t meant to startle her, but before he could command himself to move away,
Esther placed her hand over his. The earth froze on its axis until he heard her inhales, coming in erratic patterns, as were his.
Slowly, he leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers, pressing their coiled hands to his chest. He could feel her breath, the warmth and smoothness of her skin. He lifted his gaze to hers, expecting hers to be lowered. Instead, he was met with her bright, eager, beautiful sapphire eyes.
“Lucas,” she whispered, her soft breath sweeping over him like a breeze, causing a heat wave to push through his body.
“Esther,” he said, echoing her same serious tone.
He felt her start to shake, suppressing a silent laugh. While staying focused on her eyes, he slowly, regretfully removed his hand from her cheek.
“I don’t believe my actions were unwelcomed.”
“Nay,” she said, though her gaze dropped to their touching knees.
“Unexpected?”
He heard her exhale a laugh. “Maybe. But at the same time, I was wondering what took you so long.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Esther could still sense the touch of his hand on her cheek, the warmth of his rough but tender skin. Feeling his breath on her face was like breathing for the first time. It had been unexpected when he’d reached out to her, but no, not unwelcome.
“I’ve been having…feelings,” she said, still a bit nervous to admit, yet surely he could see it all over her face.
“I should hope so.” He nudged her shoulder, and Esther couldn’t help laughing, using the moment to take in a few deep breaths. “I have feelings, too,” he added, his voice firm, brown eyes focused on her.
Somehow, she already knew this, yet hearing it caused a happy tingling sizzle to ribbon around her spine.
“I don’t know when it started,” he continued, “but I think about you all the time, and not just as a good friend or as the girl my brother wanted to marry—and believe me, I’m well aware of all the trouble it could cause you. It’d make trouble for Jerry’s family, too.” He sat back and raked both hands through his curly hair, his expression turning frustrated.
“Lucas, we’re not doing anything wrong,” she said, running the words through her mind first, making sure they felt truthful.
“I’m an outsider.”
“For now.”
He pushed a hand through his hair again. “You know it’s not that simple.”
As she glanced over his shoulder, focusing on a weeping willow tree, Esther couldn’t help mentally listing all the worldly possessions Lucas would have to do without if he decided to live plain again. His truck, electricity at home, many basic creature comforts and technologies, and most importantly, his professional job.
Esther’s throat felt tight—she couldn’t imagine him ever giving up his position of helping people medically.
And though it was unspoken, she knew neither of them wanted to dishonor Jacob’s memory.
“You’re beautiful.”
His words made her look at him. Tenderness filled his light brown eyes. He tipped his head to the side as if examining her from a new angle. She felt a silly, romantic flutter in her tummy as his gaze seemed to slide over her.
“And you’re stubborn and kind,” he continued.
“Lucas,” she said, knowing her throat, cheeks, and ears were probably bright red.
“You’ve made me feel good about myself again, about other people, and maybe about the whole world in general. I’m happier now, more at peace, and I like myself better these days.”
Hearing his words spoken with such boldness should’ve made Esther shy and embarrassed, but somehow, she felt more connected to the earth, anchored to her beliefs in a celestial power, attached to the man sitting across from her.
“And now,” Lucas continued, “I don’t feel nervous about doing this.” Like it was nothing, he scooped up her hand, intertwining their fingers. When he gave a gentle squeeze, tiny pinpricks traveled up and down Esther’s neck, his nearness making it harder to breathe quietly.
“Lucas,” she said around the lump in her throat, “you’re so…well, you’re so very…”
Wonderful, she tried to say. And giving and patient and such a good listener. And handsome. And when you look at me like you are right now, I want to…
“You like me, too,” he said, smiling when she couldn’t finish the sentence. “That’s all I need to know now.”
“Jah. I like you.” The understated words made her laugh.
He sighed, then lifted his other hand. Without needing instructions, Esther reached out and took it, butterflies and bluebirds and angels flying circles around her heart.
“We’re supposed to be having a picnic,” he said, pulling back a corner of his mouth into a crooked grin.
“Chicken, cheese, and pickle sandwiches,” Esther replied, wanting to freeze this moment forever. “And freshly baked sticky buns.”
“Yum.” When Lucas ran his tongue over his lips, Esther felt like a fire had lit inside her core.
“We should, um, eat now,” she said. “Don’t you think?”
Lucas slowly shook his head, that grin growing. “Not until I do this.” He lifted one set of their hands, drawing the back of her hand to his mouth, giving it a short, soft kiss.
A dazzling chill ran up her spine, circling and whirling on the way down, making her feel almost faint. “Lucas,” she whispered.
“Luke,” he corrected.
She smiled, blinking her eyelashes. “Luke.”
“It’s what the closest people in my life call me.”
The only thing she could do was squeeze his hand, hoping that would prompt him to kiss it again—the delicious sensation still pushing through her body.
“Shall we start with dessert?”
“What?”
He raised an eyebrow. “The sticky buns. We should eat them first if they’re still warm.” A moment later, both her hands were free, and Luke was dragging the picnic basket over to her.
Esther knew she couldn’t just sit there like a little girl daydreaming about her handsome prince, but somehow, she couldn’t get herself to move.
“Do you want a fork, or do you want to eat them like me with my bare hands?” He leaned toward her, then released a throaty growl. “I know you love my aardvark impression.”
Finally, Esther’s fingers and toes tingled with life, and she giggled. “Irresistible,” she said, rolling her eyes. She removed the two sandwiches from the basket, placing one on Luke’s leg. “Sweets after,” she said, holding out her hand until he gave her the sticky bun.
“Told you you’re stubborn.”
“But kind,” Esther said, remembering his words.
Lucas’s shoulders relaxed as he looked at her. “The kindest woman I know.”
She wanted to touch him again. Hold his hand, maybe stroke his cheek, twist a piece of his curly hair around a finger. The curiosity of how it would feel was almost blinding.
“How’s the wedding dress coming?”
Esther had to blink a few times, and when she focused on him, he’d taken a few bites of his sandwich.
“Um, it’s almost finished, actually. My sister Anna and I are doing the final fittings for Sarah’s attendants. Four more dresses.” Quickly, she took a bite of her sandwich.
Mary Weaver had prepared a very tasty lunch for them, and as they ate, they chatted about the wedding, Esther sharing the near disaster when Sarah was suddenly down a dress size. “She’s nervous,” she said, passing Luke a red apple. “I don’t think she’s eating enough. I’ll probably have to take in her dress once more before the wedding.”
“Pretty stressful time, I’d say,” Lucas added after wiping his mouth.
“Not for her. Sarah’s hardly done a thing, even though her fingers are totally healed. Oh.” Catching the expression on Luke’s face, she pressed her lips together in remorse.
“I guess I don’t sound all that kind right now.”
Luke laughed, wadding up a napkin in his fist. “We all have room for repentance.”
Just then, a gust of wind blew one of the napkins away. “I’ll get it!” Esther said, climbing to her feet to give chase. Another gust carried another wrapper into the sky. While she ran one way, Luke ran the other. When they’d both retrieved the trash, they returned to the blanket.
“Here,” he said, handing her the napkin.
She laughed, barely keeping her kapp from falling off. “Thanks.”
“Let me help you with that.” As if he’d done it a hundred times, Luke reached out and put his two hands on the top of her head, pulling her head covering back into place.
They stood so close, she easily inhaled his manly smell, felt the warmth of him, the weight of his hands.
“Thank you again,” he said, dropping his hands but not backing away.
“For what?”
“In a roundabout way, because of you, I got to see Jerry, Lizzy, and the kinnahs.” His shoulders lifted when he inhaled. “I thought my entire family was lost to me. But then that stupid buggy…”
“Don’t blame Peanut for your reckless driving.”
He chuckled under his breath. “I blame you for distracting me.” He wound a loose piece of her hair around a finger, sending tingles up Esther’s spine. “I blame you for every wonderful thing that’s happened since the day you stormed into the clinic, disturbing my lunch.”
Esther’s heart pounded at the memory. “You had a dot of cottage cheese right there.” Without hesitation, she touched a finger to the corner of his mouth. Luke turned his chin, kissing her finger. Her breath hitched, imagining him putting an arm around her next.
“Esther.” His voice was somber. “We have some problems.”
“Yes,” she whispered, unafraid. “You’re not Amish.”
“I know.”
“You still haven’t talked to your father—or your mother, Luke.”
He nodded, lowering his gaze from hers. “I know.”
Never an Amish Bride Page 25