The Amish Secret Wish

by Laura V. Hilton

  Mammi giggled again.

  George pounded his fist on the table, drawing everyone’s attention. “This cream cheese spread is poisoned!” he shouted. His plate, as well as his brother’s, was piled full of food, and nothing had been passed to the next person. The serving dishes, significantly emptier, crowded the space around George’s place. “This is why bean soup is best. Hard to ruin that,” he bellowed.

  “Except that is what I got food poisoning from,” Kiah muttered.

  His daed made some answering remark under his breath that Hallie couldn’t hear. Then he sighed loudly. “I’m sorry. I will be having a chat with Hezekiah about his behavior. My son doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. Nor does he censor his words. He apparently displays them everywhere.”

  Hallie kind of liked that about him. At least what he said about her. She might not appreciate him talking to her sister that way, though. Oh, that thought hurt.

  Kiah’s face flamed red. “Sorry if I’ve been rude.” He kept his eyes downcast. “And I didn’t mean to embarrass you with my behavior, Daed.”

  His father’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, too, son.”

  Kiah glanced up and he and his father smiled at each other. That was nice.

  Hallie went around the table and picked up the mixing bowl with the cream cheese spread. She sniffed it, but all she could smell was the strong odor of male cats probably coming from George. She sneezed as she walked away. Once safely away from the stench, she ran her finger around the top edge of the bowl, collecting some of the creamy mixture, and stuck it into her mouth. It tasted sweet—honey? And a sourish-tangy—yogurt? A recipe that Anna had cut out recently for a homemade facial mask flashed through Hallie’s mind. If this was it, then it also had oatmeal, hot water, and an egg white. It shouldn’t be poisonous, but she didn’t want to shout out that it was a homemade facial mask. She’d hate to see George’s reaction to that. She returned the bowl to the refrigerator and whispered what she thought it was to Joy, who was putting George’s “spread”-covered crackers into the hog pail, otherwise known as the slop bucket. Joy giggled. Hallie would tell Mammi what it possibly might be later. But in the meantime, she had to relieve George’s worries and she didn’t know how without laughing. Without him misunderstanding even more since he was hard of hearing. Without making Mammi look foolish for serving it in the first place.

  Gott, help me…

  Thinking hard, she backed away from the refrigerator and stepped in a wet spot where Joy had sloshed limeade. Her right foot twisted sideways and slid out from under her and she went down, landing hard on her rump. She tried to grab Mammi’s walker, but crashed into the support bar and it tipped, hitting her forehead and landing with a clatter of metal against the old tile floor. “Ow!”

  Kiah was out of his seat and already kneeling beside her. “Oh, Hallie. Are you okay?” His cool hand pressed against her head where the walker hit.

  “And that is why canes are safer than walkers, Mildew,” George shouted. “Now let’s go home, eat bean soup, and pet cats while we watch the ants…” His voice trailed off and he whimpered.

  “Oh no,” Kiah whispered. He shot to his feet while Hallie reached for her throbbing ankle. Was it already turning red? “George,” Kiah said on an exhale; then he repeated the name much louder. “I’ll replace your ants. And your cats. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t do us any favors,” Mildred said.

  “Flavors?” George asked. “Vanilla is best, I think. Two big scoops. In a cone.” He sat down again.

  Kiah groaned and looked at Hallie, his gaze resting on where she poked at her ankle. It was swelling. He knelt again, gently lifting her foot into his hands. Weird tingles shot through her. “I hope you have ice cream,” he murmured.

  She winced when he found a particularly sore spot. “We don’t.” She gasped as he prodded that spot. “But I’m not putting ice cream on my foot anyway. It does sound really good, though.”

  He chuckled. “Ice might be helpful.” He glanced at someone and lifted an eyebrow.

  “Go ahead,” the bishop said.

  And with that, he scooped her up in his arms.

  She stiffened, then not knowing what else to do, looped her arm around his neck. “Don’t drop me.”

  “Not a chance.” He carried her out of the kitchen, into the living room, then carefully laid her on the spare bed that Mamm and Daed were using with his family visiting. He adjusted the pillow, took the ice pack from a wide-eyed Joy, carefully placed it on Hallie’s ankle, tossed a fuzzy throw over her legs, then bent and brushed his lips across her forehead.

  Tears filled her eyes as he backed away. Toby had never been so sensitive to her needs. Some kind of strange feeling washed over her. Why did Bishop Nathan have to make the scribe be secret? Kiah could’ve been hers.

  She watched him merge into the crowd of witnesses—which didn’t include George, who still hollered for ice cream—and gave in to the tears caused by a mixture of pain, embarrassment, shame, and longing.

  If only he could’ve kissed four or five inches lower.

  * * *

  Kiah turned to face the gawkers and met a variety of expressions. A knowing smirk from the troublesome Mammi, the one who claimed he’d marry Hallie. Jah, please. Confusion—and maybe respect—from Hallie’s daed. Love from his mamm. That warmed him. More confusion from Daed. Anger radiated from Aaron. Joy seemed smitten. Hallie’s daadi beamed—at his wife. Which was as it should be. And the bishop’s expression was unreadable, but the furrows in his brow seemed to indicate they’d need to have a chat. Which probably meant he would be in trouble. But what else was new? Of course, he might just be thinking hard.

  Kiah’s attention shifted back to Aaron. How’d he get on his bad side? They’d barely met, but he’d thought they’d bonded over the shared ant-murder, cat-freeing experience. But Aaron did overhear Kiah admit to kissing Hallie and still planning to court Anna. That might have done it.

  “These deviled eggs are great!” George bellowed from the kitchen. “You should get the recipe, Mildew.”

  “You wouldn’t let me make it,” Mildred shouted back.

  “Give me back that platter,” George yelled. “I want more of those eggs.”

  Someone behind Kiah gasped.

  “He won’t leave anything for the rest of us,” Hallie’s daadi said. “I suggest we get back in there.”

  “Joy will fix you and Hallie a plate,” her mammi said, looking at Kiah. “You stay and keep our girl company.”

  “And keep your hands off,” Aaron growled.

  “Of course.” Kiah forced a smile. “No worries.” He faked a British accent, which probably sounded ridiculous in Pennsylvania Dutch.

  Joy giggled. “I’ll fix your plates. You cozy up to Hallie and wait.”

  “Not too cozy,” Aaron shot back as he left the room.

  Right. Kiah pulled a rocking chair over and sat beside the bed. He glanced at Hallie and the tears beading on her lashes. That ankle must really hurt. “Hallie.” He said her name on a sigh. “Don’t cry.” He barely stopped from reaching for her. And he didn’t even carry a handkerchief. Massive fail as a hero.

  “I don’t think I’ll be hiking tonight.” She grimaced. She swiped her fists over her eyes.

  It took him a minute. “Oh. Well, I figured out what a whippersnapper is. A know-it-all jerk. And your daed was calling me one.” That hurt more than a little. He’d wanted to make a good impression.

  Hallie looked away. “Actually, it’s a young and inexperienced person considered to be presumptuous or overconfident.”

  He touched her chin, turning her face back toward him, and wiped a stray tear or three from her cheeks. “Which makes me wonder what your plans were for tonight. Something naughty like skinny-dipping in the pond?” He attempted a smile. “Or a snipe hunt, where I’m left abandoned, holding the bag in the woods, feeling and looking like a fool?”

  He’d listen to what she had to say, but what he really wanted was th
e truth. What did she think of him? How massive was his fail?

  Any chance of recovery?

  Chapter 13

  Hallie’s face flamed red, and she lowered her lashes to keep from seeing the pain in Kiah’s eyes. Another tear escaped. She brushed at it and sniffled. She hadn’t intended to make him feel bad, and now she wanted to comfort him. Taking him hiking had seemed innocent at the time—or maybe not so innocent. When she and Toby used to go off alone, they’d had more than a few stolen kisses, but Kiah was not Toby. Kiah wanted to court her sister—well, actually Hallie, but he thought the scribe was Anna. And Hallie and Kiah were relatively new acquaintances—in person—and shouldn’t be kissing. Even though he had kissed her ever so briefly. Just a tantalizing touch. Enough to make her want more. It’d been ever so long since she’d been kissed.

  “Well?” he asked quietly.

  Hallie looked up, struggling to redirect her thoughts and find answers, but Joy chose that moment to reappear with a silver-plated serving tray holding two glasses of limeade and two plates with a selection of food. Two slices of bread with roast beef, sliced cheddar cheese, and lettuce, next to a small pile of radishes, carrot and celery sticks, and half of a deviled egg.

  “There were only enough eggs left for a half each. George really liked them,” Joy explained.

  “Danki for bringing us food.” Kiah stood and pulled over an end table for Joy to set the tray on. He placed the small table between the bed and the rocking chair. That should make Aaron happy, having a physical barrier between her and Kiah, but Kiah probably was considering the ease of them both reaching food and beverage when he did it. His courtesy and kindness was so sweet.

  Hallie struggled to sit up. Awkward, especially since it shifted her ankle and the ice pack. She caught her breath at the rush of pain.

  “You’re welcome.” Joy giggled. “This is so romantic.”

  What? Hallie lifted a shoulder and glanced at Kiah. He looked as confused as she felt. What was romantic about a painful, twisted—and possibly sprained—ankle?

  Joy gave a little finger wag punctuated with another giggle and left the room.

  “Well, she’s appropriately named,” Kiah said, looking after her.

  “I guess.” Hallie twisted her fingers together. “Her real name is Angel Rejoice.”

  Kiah startled. “There has to be a story behind that. And why was Anna named Genesis Hosanna? And how did you end up with a normal name like Henrietta?”

  Well, that last question was easy. She hadn’t. She took a deep breath. “Well, Genesis means beginning and she was my parents’ first child. Hosanna means ‘praise and adoration’ so they were giving thanks to Gott.”

  Kiah smiled. “I like that. And Joy?”

  “Somehow the midwife missed that Mamm was carrying twins. Aaron was the first—and only—boy, and then there were serious complications and Mamm said that Gott sent an angel to save her and the babies and my parents rejoiced. I don’t know if it was a real angel or not, but someone did show up unexpectedly who knew exactly what to do.”

  He blinked. “Wow. Just wow.” He picked up his glass, took a sip of limeade, and wrinkled his nose. “This is tart. But good.” He took another sip. “So, why were they so uncreative with your name?”

  Her face heated. “They weren’t,” she mumbled.

  He set the glass down, picked up his plate, and assembled his sandwich. “Sorry, Hallie. No offense. Henrietta is a lovely name, really. Old-fashioned but lovely. However, compared to your sisters’ names, it is uncreative.”

  The bishop never said she couldn’t tell people her full name. “Jah, but my na—”

  He waved her words away. “Back to the topic at hand. The whippersnapper thing. Was it a snipe hunt?” He took a bite of his sandwich.

  “Hallelujah. And no. Probably closer to skinny-dipping in the pond.” Jah. She was going for shock value. Especially since he waved away her important name confession. Still, her face burned.

  His eyes bugged as he stopped chewing and stared at her. He set the sandwich down. Swallowed, coughed, then took a swig of limeade and coughed again. “Henrietta Brunstetter!”

  “Hallelujah,” she mumbled.

  “What did you say?” His voice was garbled.

  “Hallelujah,” she repeated. Stronger. More certain. Because he needed to know that much of the truth.

  “Not that. Skinny-dipping? Really?” A high-pitched squeak punctuated the words. His gaze started to dip toward her assets, and he forced it back up. Red stained his cheeks.

  “Of course not really. Sheesh. What kind of girl do you think I am?” She scowled at him.

  “Hey. You’re the one who said it.” His tone was a cross between relieved and disappointed.

  “You asked, plus you mentioned it first, and I said it’d probably be closer to it. But we wouldn’t be skinny-dipping and it isn’t a pond.”

  Kiah puffed out a breath and picked up his sandwich again. “You are so frustratingly confusing.”

  Hallie shrugged. Her emotions were a confused tangle, too. But she didn’t care to go into that. She liked Kiah, a lot. She wanted Kiah to pursue her. But she didn’t want the pain that came from loving and losing. She picked up her plate and eyed her food. “I need to pray.” For more than one reason. “I sort of forgot to when the bishop called for prayer.”

  He sighed and put his sandwich down again. “I did, too. I was too busy wondering what you were going to show me about a whippersnapper since you could have just reminded me what it was. And now I’m intrigued and still wondering. But let’s pray first.” He bowed his head.

  Hallie silently said the Lord’s Prayer from memory. Likely the same prayer Kiah said. But then she added, Lord, I don’t know what to do about Kiah. Make it clear. Better yet, remove my strong attraction to him. Especially since he plans to court Anna.

  Warm fingers closed on hers and gently squeezed. “Amen,” he said, pulling away and picking up his sandwich again. “So. The whippersnapper thing. Explain yourself.”

  “I don’t know if I can. I thought I could take you to Hidden Springs and let you see your reflection in the water by the light of the moon.” She squirmed. It sounded rather juvenile out loud. “It’s supposed to be a full moon tonight. And then maybe go wading.” And do a lot of kissing. Which would be forbidden. Her cheeks burned. Good thing he couldn’t read her thoughts.

  “Hidden Springs? You mean there is an actual spring here?” Kiah asked.

  “Well, duh. How do you think the town got its name?”

  “And is it hidden?”

  “Very secluded.”

  His eyes lit up. “I’d like to see it.”

  “Maybe Anna will take you.”

  The light in his eyes died. He made a noncommittal grunt and turned his full attention to his meal.

  After another moment, she did, too. But her heart hurt. Kiah apparently felt the same connection to her that she felt to him, but with his intention to court Anna, it could—would—go nowhere. Hallie refused to be a plaything for a man pursuing another woman. Or married to another. That was a recipe for disaster. Best to cut their “friendship” off at the bud now.

  Then again, Kiah would eventually learn the truth that Anna wasn’t the scribe and Hallie was…

  But Anna had called dibs.

  She wished things were different. Wished Anna hadn’t called dibs and wished her heart was ready to love again and wished that Kiah was free to pursue her.

  Her appetite destroyed, Hallie forced herself to eat her food. She’d be hungry later if she didn’t. She’d just finished and had set the plate down on the tray when Joy popped back into the room.

  “Dessert?” Joy looked at Kiah. “We don’t have ice cream, but we do have pie and cookies.”

  He shook his head. “No, danki.”

  “I don’t want any, either.” Hallie picked at a thread on the throw blanket draped over her legs.

  Kiah glanced at Hallie, and with another sigh, pushed to his feet. “I’ll
go see if I can get started fixing your daed’s buggy. Or maybe help with chores. Or something.” He plodded from the room, shoulders slumped.

  Joy and Hallie both watched him go; then Hallie blinked at another round of stubborn tears. Silly of her. She’d made the right choice.

  Joy turned and picked up the tray. “You had to go sabotage that potential relationship. He made it more than plain that he likes you.”

  “He’s planning on courting Anna.” And that said it all.

  Joy’s mouth opened and shut. She stared at Hallie for a long silent minute.

  Hallie sniffled and pretended to shift the ice pack on her ankle. Maybe Joy would believe the tears were from pain and not a fresh crack on her already broken heart.

  “You need ice cream. Chocolate, I think. I’ll mention it to Daed. And Kiah shouldn’t be courting Anna,” Joy said finally. “He only has eyes for you.”

  But Joy hadn’t seen Kiah and Anna together.

  Hallie had.

  Kiah was a flirt. And Anna had turned on her answering flirt to full-blown.

  * * *

  Kiah trudged through the kitchen, his gaze skimming over the group still sitting at the huge wood table. Pies and cookies had been passed around and coffee poured. Conversation was at a minimum and even George was silent except for lips smacking.

  Kiah stopped beside Hallie’s daed and crouched down. “May I take a look at your buggy and see if I can fix it?” Given the circumstances, and considering that “acts of malice” remark from earlier, it probably was wise to ask permission first.

  The older man frowned. “Well, now, I’m not rightly sure if I can trust you—”

  Ouch. But Kiah could see why.

  “Go ahead and let him, Ted,” the bishop said with a hint of contemplation in his expression. “He needs to be responsible.”

  Not only that, but it’d also be a good way to get his mind’s focus off Hallie. Maybe.

  Ted’s frown deepened, but he shrugged. Grunted.

  Kiah decided to take that as agreement.

  He was halfway to the barn before he remembered the woodpecker. And by then it was too late. The harsh churring sound came moments before the bird did a flyby, buzzing right past Kiah’s ear. Thankfully, the bird either had bad aim this time or he didn’t intend to connect, but Kiah did duck as he quickened his steps to the safety of the barn.