by Price, Sarah
He had.
And he had come for her.
She leaned her head against the headrest and watched as they passed farm after farm. With everything turning green at last, she couldn’t help but take comfort that at least she wasn’t in Los Angeles, surrounded by tall buildings and congested highways. She’d probably be spending her days alone or, at best, sitting in the studio as Alejandro recorded another new song. She thought about her friend Celinda, a young singer she’d met last autumn. Amanda wondered if they would have caught up for lunch or shopping had she gone to California with Alejandro. Of course, according to the tabloids, and confirmed by Alejandro, Celinda was in the midst of a separation from her longtime love, Justin Bell. Amanda couldn’t help but wonder how Celinda had coped with the devastating discovery of his indiscretions.
At the harness store, Harvey got out of the car and hurried around to open the door for Amanda. She hadn’t even realized they’d pulled into the parking lot.
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she started to get out of the car. He held out his hand for her and she accepted it, looking up at him and managing to thank him with a soft smile.
It was a fortunate day when Alejandro had arranged for Harvey Alderfer to work on their farm. He had become like a brother to her and an uncle to Isadora. Without Harvey, Amanda knew that the farm would have fallen into disarray before Jonas arrived. But now that Jonas was fully entrenched in the community after moving there from Ohio, the two men managed the farm without need of much assistance. Still, when the four walls of the kitchen felt like they were closing in on her, Amanda often escaped outside to lend a hand.
“You all right?” he asked.
She nodded her head and looked away. The sting of holding back tears forced her to blink several times. She would not cry, she told herself. Do not cry.
“I’ll go in. Why don’t you just take a seat on that bench yonder?” He pointed toward the shade of a large, overgrown tree.
With misty eyes, she nodded her head and obediently walked to where he had pointed. Sitting on a bench that was long overdue for a fresh coat of paint, Amanda watched a car pull out of the parking lot. But her mind was elsewhere, across the continent and in the arms of her husband. She smiled, her first genuine smile in weeks, as she shut her eyes and remembered the feel of his touch on her bare skin.
It was a memory she was beginning to fear would eventually fade.
When Alejandro awoke, the sun had not risen yet. He had appointments with the recording company first thing in the morning and then needed to work with the choreographer and dancers on new routines for the European tour. With only days until his departure, he felt as though he was on autopilot, simply moving through the day and responding to the reminders from his smartphone and from his manager, Geoffrey.
Shuffling from the kitchen to the bedroom of his apartment, he stretched his arms over his head, feeling the tightness in his neck and shoulders. The stress of the upcoming tour combined with the added strain of his separation from Amanda weighed heavily upon him. He almost dreaded the former, but being busy preparing kept him from thinking too much about the latter.
He missed her. That was something he had anticipated when he made up his mind that space was what she needed. Leaving her had been the hardest thing that he’d ever done. Her face, her tears, and her pleas haunted him at night. He found himself taking a strong nightcap each evening to avoid struggling with sleep. Many times, especially at night, he’d longed to pick up his phone and call her.
But he knew he couldn’t.
Despite all the awful things that his former manager, Mike, had done to disrupt his relationship with Amanda, Alejandro was now starting to see the wisdom behind his actions. How could he have expected Amanda to adapt to his lifestyle? With her Amish upbringing, she had handled it as well as anyone could have expected. And when Isadora was thrust into their lives, she had taken to the role of mother better than any other woman would have.
The only problem was that he didn’t want children. Not yet. And dragging a small child on tour with them was not only taxing but also inappropriate. The late nights, the constant travel, and the people who surrounded him—it was just not an environment for a child. While the idea of a family appealed to him, he had come to realize the timing was just not right.
And then Isadora had arrived.
In all honesty, he hadn’t thought about his Brazilian daughter in years and he had never expected to meet her. Now, five years old and basically left all alone, Isadora Daniela da Silva was suddenly a very real part of their family. When she arrived at their hotel before their departure from Rio de Janeiro, Alejandro had barely been able to look at the child. She was born of lust, not love. Yet Amanda had immediately taken over her role as Isadora’s stepmother and had quickly come to the same conclusion as Alejandro: a music tour was no place for a child.
When Amanda left Rio de Janeiro, his first feelings of anger at her abandonment were soon replaced with enlightenment regarding the situation. His alter ego, Viper, would always be a playboy in the minds of the fans, even now that he was married to Amanda, the involuntary darling of social media. Just as Mike had predicted, the fans wanted controversy, not love. Just as Justin Bell had played the media with his relationship to Celinda Ruiz, and social media gobbled it up, Alejandro realized his fans wanted the return of the old Viper.
Perhaps they’d merely wanted to see how such a situation would pan out, a philandering Viper with innocent Amanda. He had no intention of giving the public what they wanted. His love for Amanda was unquestionable. Even before his rise to fame, everyone had always wanted something from him. People surrounded him with ideas and schemes, trying to become a part of the story. His story. Alejandro had learned long ago to proceed with caution to ensure that his reward far outweighed anyone else’s.
With Amanda, he had finally learned how it felt to be loved and supported with no expectations in return.
He ran the faucet to fill the Keurig water reservoir. Coffee. That’s what he needed. Something strong to jump-start the day.
As he waited for the liquid to pour into his mug, he leaned against the counter, rubbing his forehead. He wondered what Amanda was doing at that moment. Perhaps sharing breakfast with Isadora? Or milking the cows with Jonas and Harvey?
He grimaced when he thought of Harvey. For the past two weeks, he’d tried to abolish the memory of watching Harvey carry Isadora and hearing the soft banter between Harvey and Amanda. When the media first published photos of Harvey protecting Amanda from the paparazzi a few months earlier, Alejandro hadn’t given it a second thought. The photographers had wasted no time in speculating about a possible relationship between the two, but it was a thought Alejandro easily dismissed.
But when he watched them together and saw the ease with which they worked as a team, it made the pieces of the puzzle come together: What if Amanda was not meant to be his wife? What if all of this was God’s plan for her to return to the Amish community and find a husband more aligned with her past?
His phone vibrated and Alejandro broke free from his thoughts. He looked around the kitchen to locate his cell phone. It rested on the counter near the stove. He hadn’t remembered placing it there. When he glanced at the clock and saw that it wasn’t even six thirty, he sighed. Probably Geoffrey confirming that a car would be waiting downstairs for him in forty-five minutes.
He reached for the phone and answered the call. “Dígame, chico.”
“Alex! You’re up already?”
“Sí, sí,” he responded. “Claro, G. What’s up?”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone. For a moment, Alejandro wondered if the call had dropped. When he heard Geoffrey clearing his throat, he knew something was going on, something that his manager hesitated to tell him about.
“You asked me to alert you if there was . . . uh”—another hesitation—“any word from Lancaster. My guys just saw photos hitting the social media circuit. I wanted to let you know
.”
Alejandro took a deep breath. If Geoffrey was calling him, the photos were not good news. Geoffrey would not bother him with photos of Amanda hanging out the laundry or sweeping off the porch.
“You want me to send you copies?”
Alejandro nodded, even though Geoffrey could not see him. Behind him, he heard the hissing noise of the coffeemaker finishing the brew for his coffee. He didn’t need it anymore; he was wide-awake. “Send it to my private e-mail, sí.”
“There are more than one, Alex.”
Bracing himself for the worst, Alejandro hung up the phone, set it on the counter, and started pacing. He kept his hands clutched behind his back, his thumbs tapping nervously. Other than that, he tried to maintain his composure as he waited for the digital photos to arrive. Geoffrey’s voice had said it all. Whatever was being sent was likely the one thing he did not want to see: his wife assimilating back into the life of the Amish. Still, he knew that it was her choice. He had given that to her, the gift of choosing which life she wanted.
When his phone made a noise, Alejandro picked it up and prepared himself for the e-mail. One tap of his finger on the link and the images began to display on his screen.
His heart fell.
The photos confirmed his suspicions. As he swiped through them, seeing Harvey Alderfer talking with Amanda on the crest of a hill, Harvey opening the car door for her, and Harvey guiding her through the parking lot of a store, Alejandro knew what her choice would be. When he saw the final image, the one of Amanda staring up at the Mennonite man, he shut his eyes.
Maybe he had known from the beginning that she belonged there, with her family and community. If it wasn’t Harvey, it would be someone else who would accept her for who she was and who she should become: a hardworking farmer’s wife and doting mother. He had fooled himself into thinking that he could settle down into the role of loving husband.
“Ay, Dios mío,” he muttered, clicking the phone so that it shut down. He shoved it into the pocket of his robe and stood at the counter, both hands pressed down on the granite top. With a lowered head, he took several deep breaths. He didn’t want to leave her. Losing Amanda would be the single most difficult thing he would ever do. He knew that. His fans would greet a divorce with mixed feelings: some supporting the decision because they missed the old Viper and others hating him for leaving Amanda. But she deserved better. She deserved happiness.
He knew that he needed to think through the decision before making a final choice. He knew she loved him. There was no reason to doubt that. The only problem was that he loved her more, and from the look in her face in that final photo, he knew that his love was not enough for her. Now, if he could only get her to come to the same realization.
Chapter Two
Her cell phone lay on the counter, fully charged but completely silent. Amanda stared at it as she stood there, tapping her fingers on the Formica countertop. The screen remained black, a slight reflection on the glass. For a moment she almost reached out for it, but just as quickly she withdrew her hand.
It wasn’t the first time she’d thought about contacting Alejandro during their separation. All of her life she’d been taught to let God handle difficult situations: Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again. Without doubt, this was one of those times. Another week had passed, and with each new dawn she felt a heavier weight inside her chest. There were times when she was working in the garden that she would stop, turn her back toward the house, and silently cry, weeping for the unknown, wondering whether Alejandro would return for her.
At night after she tucked Isadora into her bed, Amanda sat in bed reading the Bible by the light of a flickering flame. She took comfort from the verses, particularly the story of Esther. Over and over again, she read that story. The affinity that she felt for Esther embodied her desire to find a way back to Alejandro. Esther was strong and smart; she understood how to handle the king, a man who adored her and, it seemed, whom she adored.
But unlike Esther and the king, Alejandro had left her. His parting words lingered in her memory: We have choices in life, Amanda. You chose to leave the tour with Isadora despite your love for me, and I am choosing to leave you here because of my love for you.
Oh, how those words haunted her, especially at moments when she stood alone in the kitchen, staring at the phone as if willing it to ring.
“Knock, knock.”
Amanda looked up and forced a smile as her sister, Anna, walked through the door, leading Isadora behind her.
“Mammi!”
Breaking free from Anna, Isadora ran to Amanda and hugged her legs. Laughing, Amanda knelt down and, after extracting herself from Isadora’s arms, returned her embrace. Her stepdaughter’s dress, a pretty replica of an Amish dress but made from a soft blue floral print, smelled like lavender. Her long dark hair hung in a thick braid down her back. As Amanda held her, she felt the end of it brush against her arm.
If anything could make Amanda feel better, it was the joy that Isadora gave to her each and every day.
Pulling back, Amanda rejoiced to see the light of happiness glowing on Isadora’s face. What a perfect change from when Amanda first saw the child wearing an old dress and shoes that didn’t fit. Despite her grandfather’s best efforts, Isadora’s face had told the real story, one of insecurity and inconsistency. Now, after six weeks in Amanda’s care, Isadora presented herself as a joyful child with balance in her life.
“Izzie!” Amanda said cheerfully. “Did you go out to see the kittens, then?”
She nodded her head. “Ja, kittens.”
“Nice fat kittens this year,” Amanda said, running her fingers over her stepdaughter’s stomach, which made Isadora laugh. “I reckon they’ll be right gut mousers.”
Isadora made a face, apparently not liking the idea of the kittens eating the mice, which, according to the five-year-old, were “muito cute.” It had taken Amanda a few days to realize that Isadora was combining Portuguese with English to express her thoughts about the very cute field mice that often scurried through the barnyard.
“Oh, she loves those kittens, Amanda,” Anna said as she moved over to the table and sat down, one hand resting on her enlarged stomach. “The little orange one likes to chase a little string Izzie found in the barn.”
“Is that so?” Amanda exaggerated an expression of surprise. “Did the kitten play with you?”
“Ja, orange kitten.”
Standing up, Amanda gave Isadora another hug. “Then I think you should name that kitten, don’t you think? Now you go on and play a spell. We’ll come up with a right gut name for that kitten before we say prayers tonight.”
She watched as Isadora did as she was told, practically running to the far side of the room where her toys were. Not once had Isadora defied her. If Amanda asked her to do something, she did it without question. Now she flopped onto the floor, lying down on her stomach, and began to pick through her toys, settling on the wooden animals that Harvey had made for her. Amanda watched for a minute, her heart swelling with love for Isadora.
Turning toward her sister, Amanda realized that Anna, too, had been watching. There was a glow about her face, a sparkle in her eyes, that Amanda noticed as she sat down at the small table next to her.
“You’re smiling with your eyes,” Amanda said, hoping that her voice did not give away the pain that she still felt in her heart. Even with Isadora making her so happy, it never seemed to fully disappear.
“Am I now?” Anna smiled. “I reckon I am. She’s such a blessing, ja?”
Amanda felt the conflicting emotions of love and despair. “She’s a blessing indeed,” Amanda agreed. “Some days I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Yet that, too, was a bittersweet thought. There was an uncomfortable moment as Amanda wondered if Anna also understood the irony of the position Amanda was in.
At last Anna spoke, changing the subject to something less distressing. “I have news, Amanda. Gut news! I felt the b
oppli kicking today.”
Amanda swallowed, a moment of regret washing over her: her happiness for her sister was overshadowed by the sorrow she felt herself. The kicking of a child within her womb was something Amanda knew she was unlikely to feel. Alejandro had made his position about children more than clear when she thought she might be pregnant before their departure for the South American tour. His reaction to Isadora’s appearance had only confirmed it: a large family—maybe any family!—was not something he desired.
Besides, from the way that things were now, Amanda worried that he might never contact her at all. He had been adamant that he was not giving up his career and that she belonged on the farm. If Alejandro was so convinced that they were wrong for each other, what could she do? There was no point in chasing him or trying to convince him that things could work out. Ever since the tour in South America, their relationship had been nothing more than tension and a clash of cultures that had created an ever-growing chasm between them. The unexpected arrival of Isadora had only solidified the distance between them.
“That’s gut,” Amanda said, blinking her eyes as if she could forget her thoughts. She tried to focus on her sister. “I should like to feel that when it kicks again.”
“It feels like little butterflies!” Anna laughed as she rubbed her stomach.
When Amanda didn’t respond, her eyes returning to watch Isadora, Anna reached across the table for her hand. “Amanda,” Anna said in a soft voice. “You’ve said nothing about Alejandro since he left. It’s been almost three weeks. You say that my eyes are smiling, but your eyes are filled with hurt.”
“Stop,” Amanda whispered.
“Nee, your eyes tell the truth, Schwester. Now it is time for your mouth to do the same. What has happened? Has he contacted you?”