“I’m not illiterate,” Kiah said firmly. “And if I take anyone— Be a dear and open the door for us, please.”
Anna did, holding it wide while giving Kiah a sweet smile. “You’re not illiterate? But you said you were.”
Kiah sighed. “George thinks I am, because I was looking for the scribe.” He carried Hallie through the kitchen and into the living room, and gently deposited her on the recliner as her daed directed. For a brief moment, he gazed into Hallie’s eyes.
“Danki for your help.” She attempted a smile. It wobbled. The effort brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes.
Kiah raised his hand as if he intended to brush them away.
“You can’t take George seriously,” Anna said, interrupting his sweet move. “But that aside, who would you take to singing?”
Kiah hesitated. He pulled his hand away and slowly straightened.
Hallie forgot to breathe.
“I’d take Hallie,” he said. He hesitated for a beat or two as if trying to come up with a good reason. Then, “I feel sorry for her. She needs to have fun.”
Because he felt sorry for her? What? They made out because he pitied her?
Never again. Her emotions spiraled, she slumped, and her eyes burned more. She brushed at them to keep the tears at bay.
Had her calling him “too risky” and his reaction changed his mind? Had she lost her chance?
She looked away.
“Hallie?” Anna snorted. “She’d kill the fun for everyone else.”
And that was fact.
Chapter 18
Kiah was shooed upstairs to bed by both his mamm and Hallie’s mamm—who were waiting in the living room—as if he’d be overcome with lust at the sight of Hallie’s bare swollen ankle. The ludicrousness was astounding, but he did understand the need to protect her virtue.
Still, he was glad he hadn’t taken advantage of her surprising welcome of his embrace. The hunger as if she were half starved for love and affection. The unexpected flare of passion. If she was the scribe, he’d know why. Or at least he thought he would. Hallie struggled with low self-worth. Abandonment. A desire to be loved and accepted for herself. And the scribe alluded to those emotions in her letters.
Physical passion had been the wrong approach. And now that he wasn’t with her, he saw it with surprising clarity.
Which also meant that, even if he hadn’t figured it out, this made it more than clear there was no way Anna was the scribe. The scribe’s letters had revealed someone with a peaceful, calm, and gentle temperament and insecurities more like Hallie’s than Anna’s brash flirtations. And the scribe’s identity was to be kept secret? Really? No wonder no one in town was able to help him find her and kept suggesting other possible candidates. That also explained all the details the scribe had shared and those she hadn’t. He knew her favorite pizza toppings and favorite dessert on her birthday, but not her birth date nor how many siblings she had.
He stared out the second-floor gable window in Aaron’s bedroom, hoping vehicle lights would turn into the circle drive. He wasn’t Hallie’s husband and had no voice in the medical decisions made, but he’d like a professional diagnosis. Not Anna’s snide-sounding “she stepped in a hole, pretended to twist her ankle, and fell against…”
At least part of that was true. Doubt set in. Had Hallie accidentally stepped in a hole? But he’d seen her fall in the kitchen. Plus he’d seen the swelling. No. He believed Hallie got hurt by accident. Hopefully her mamm did, too, even though she hadn’t seen Hallie fall.
Vehicle lights flashed in the driveway, highlighting the three men just now coming out of the woods. The men who’d found him and Hallie sleeping in each other’s arms. Ted broke into a jog, flashlight bobbing.
Kiah wanted to do the same—race downstairs to Hallie. She was going to the hospital, good, but he would be forced to stay home. Here. Not home.
He wanted to be with her. Hold her hand. Pray with her.
He could still pray.
Aaron came into the room. “They’re taking her to the hospital.” He tossed his blue flashlight on the rumpled black and white pieced quilt covering his bed, then glanced at the undisturbed matching quilt on Kiah’s borrowed bed. “You might want to get some sleep. They aren’t excusing us from attending church in the morning.”
Too bad, but understandable, since Kiah’s daed was the visiting preacher. But despite Aaron’s wise warning, Kiah lingered in front of the window. Watching. Waiting.
Across the hall, Hallie’s bedroom door clicked shut. Good. Anna wasn’t going to spew her poison. But that was unkind. Anna had been mostly nice. Concerned. It was just her comment about it being deliberate.
But Hallie had said, “Oops, we’ve been bad,” implying that he and she had done more than fall asleep…
It couldn’t be true that this was deliberately set up. Couldn’t. Simply couldn’t.
He sagged.
But it was. Or at least it seemed to be.
It was truer than true.
Maybe.
Outside, Hallie hobbled to the vehicle on crutches. Guilt filled Kiah. He really should’ve found a way to carry the crutches on horseback. It would’ve been so much easier on Hallie. And she wouldn’t have injured herself worse and fallen against him.
It. Was. An. Accident.
Truthfully, he would’ve missed that. He’d wanted to kiss Hallie. But then again, it had started them down a very slippery slope. Hopefully, no one would mention them falling asleep in each other’s arms to the bishop. Kiah would be in serious trouble and Daed would be shamed.
He glanced at Aaron’s reflection in the windowpane and met the teenager’s gaze.
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Unless she’s in the family way…” The last word trailed off, but was underscored heavily with an implied threat.
Kiah’s face heated. Burned. He turned his attention back to Hallie as she carefully maneuvered into the back seat of the vehicle. The driver took the crutches and put them in the trunk. “She won’t be.”
Aaron sat on his bed and pulled his socks off. The mattress squeaked. Thankfully he let the topic drop.
Hallie’s mamm climbed into the vehicle next to Hallie. Her daed stood alone, shoulders slumped, as the driver left. It was too bad Ted couldn’t go, but he needed to be here since the family had guests. He worried about Hallie and probably would be a comfort to her. Ted turned and trudged inside.
There’d be two sleepless men in this house tonight. Three, if Kiah’s daed stayed up all night to tweak his sermon. He’d been known to do that…like every single time he was scheduled to preach.
Kiah pulled down the window shade and, keeping his back toward Aaron, prepared for bed. He might not get any more sleep, but he knew better than to roam around someone else’s house all night. At home, he’d head out to the barn and pretend he was checking on the horses. Here, Anna might join him. He might as well put the enforced quiet time to good use and pray.
He and Gott were overdue for a serious conversation anyway.
* * *
Hallie managed to keep from crying, but barely. The medical professionals refused to consider Mamm’s “unprofessional” diagnosis of a badly sprained ankle—and just prescribe her a boot that would immobilize the ankle until it healed—until what seemed like every doctor and nurse on duty came by to poke, prod, and rotate. And, of course, everyone had to comment.
Finally, someone came and took her away for X-rays.
Then, and only then, did she get a professional diagnosis that agreed with Mamm’s.
Prescription and follow-up orders in hand, and Mamm’s temper barely under control, they were finally discharged in time to get home and slide the cinnamon rolls they’d made in advance into the oven to warm for breakfast. Well, Mamm did. Hallie was sentenced to the recliner and covered with a blanket until her prescription for a walking boot was filled. In the meantime, her elevated foot was wrapped and well packed in ice.
The rooster cro
wed and noises came from the bedrooms above as well as the one on the first floor where Kiah’s parents were staying.
Hallie snuggled deeper under the covers and shut her eyes. It might be an unspoken lie, but if she pretended to be asleep, she wouldn’t have to see the judgment or false sympathy from anyone. She hadn’t sprained her ankle, or made the injury worse at the springs, on purpose, but Anna believed she had just to get Kiah’s attention. Even Kiah’s mamm had a faint judgmental look in her eyes last night. But that might have more to do with their not coming home until they were fetched.
Hallie and Anna used to be so close, sharing all their deepest secrets. But Toby had chosen Hallie despite Anna’s plays for him. And Mamm had tried to recruit Hallie as a midwife apprentice when Anna had to beg. Then the sibling rivalry had begun and Anna started her smear campaign, accusing Hallie of all sorts of falsehoods that only became worse with Toby’s death. It hurt. Daed said Anna was jealous, but Hallie wasn’t sure of what. She was fairly positive Anna wouldn’t want her life.
Especially the ever-present dark clouds of sadness.
* * *
Kiah hadn’t expected to fall asleep while praying, but he must’ve because something jarred him awake. He lay there, staring into the darkness at the unfamiliar shadowy shapes, listening to the soft snores coming from the other bed, and wondered where he was and what had woken him. Then it came to him. He was at Hallie’s house. And it was Sunday. Except, he’d been having the most pleasant dreams about kissing Hallie at Hidden Springs while the northern lights played overhead. He yawned and wanted to roll over and go back to sleep and replay those dreams. But then the rooster crowed. Kiah stumbled out of bed, got dressed in his work clothes, and went downstairs to help with the necessary Sunday morning chores.
Hallie lay on the faded blue recliner, eyes closed and a log cabin quilt in shades of blues and greens pulled up to her chin.
Why was she sleeping here?
And then his memory flashed. It hadn’t been a dream.
She’d sprained her ankle. And her mamm had taken her to the emergency room. But before that…
They had done some kissing—make that a lot of kissing—at the springs.
His body warmed. Heated. Burned.
The thickness of the fabric effectively hid any hint of curves, but not the fact that she feigned sleep. Her breathing was too fast and he was pretty sure she peeked out at him through thin slits in her lashes. Besides, a telltale blush colored her cheeks.
He was tempted to somehow call her bluff, but a slight shuffling noise alerted him he wasn’t alone with Hallie. He turned away, meeting Joy’s twinkling eyes. Her sleep certainly hadn’t been disturbed by the previous night’s drama.
“You certainly keep life interesting,” Joy whispered with a glance at Hallie. “Dill pickle ice cream, murdering George’s ants, kidnapping some of his cats—”
“Unintentionally. I think they stowed away.” He forgot to whisper.
“Daed’s not happy. He said we had enough cats without stealing them from George.”
So what else was new? It seemed Kiah was forever doomed to be on Ted’s bad side. He sighed. “I’m certainly not going to offer to catch cats here to ‘return’ to George. I’d probably catch the wrong cats, and that would be a cat-astrophe!”
Hallie snorted.
“Aha!” Kiah swung around. “I knew you were awake.”
Joy giggled.
Hallie belatedly snapped her eyes and mouth shut, then seemed to realize it’d do no good. Especially since her mouth still twitched. She blushed and opened her eyes.
“Pretend to be asleep, why don’t you?” Kiah teased. He was so tempted to bend over her and kiss her good morning, but that would be frowned upon.
What they’d done last night was definitely discouraged before marriage. And they hadn’t even—
“I didn’t twist my ankle on purpose,” Hallie blurted.
Kiah blinked. “Of course you didn’t. I saw it happen.”
“So did I.” Joy nodded.
But then the doubt swirled back in about when she’d tripped and fell against him at the springs. Had that been on purpose as Anna claimed? The fact that she knew about it when she hadn’t been there made it suspect. Had it been preplanned and discussed in detail before he’d even arrived? Or was it something Anna herself had done? That seemed more likely.
But how could he ask such a thing?
Hallie sighed. “I’m supposed to stay off of it until I get the boot. Which means I’ll miss work Monday.”
“Huh?” Kiah stared at her.
She looked at him, then rolled her eyes. “My foot.”
Oh. He nodded. “Well, good then. Because I need to talk to you.” He’d figure out some way to ask that burning question.
Hallie grimaced. “Is it time for the talk, part three?”
He frowned. Women were so confusing.
Joy stepped forward, stopping next to Kiah. “The talk, part three?” She tilted her head.
“The one where he reminds me that he’s here to court the scribe and there can be nothing between us,” Hallie explained, glancing at her sister.
“But Mammi is the scribe,” Joy protested, “and she’s married.”
“And I no longer care who it is. I want Hallie.”
A man harrumphed.
Kiah turned as Daed stepped up next to them. He glanced from Kiah to Hallie and back to Kiah. “Kiah will be marrying Molly this fall.”
Chapter 19
Long after everyone else left for church, Hallie stared into the stillness of the living room, mulling over Kiah’s father’s stern words.
Kiah will marry Molly in the fall.
Other than a look of irritation, Kiah hadn’t denied it. Of course, that would involve talking back to his daed, and that would’ve been frowned upon.
Or it could’ve been the plain and simple truth, and he was doing what he accused Molly of doing: cheating.
And he accused her—the scribe—of keeping secrets. And she was, by order of the bishop. But his…
That was huge. Ginormous.
And even if he had to keep the engagement secret until two weeks before the wedding, as some Amish communities decreed, he was still taken and should’ve honored that prior commitment instead of kissing Hallie.
Instead of coming here to find and court the scribe.
He should’ve stated point-blank that he was in a relationship in his very first letter. Or at least by the second when he’d told her about his ex-girlfriend.
He’d definitely used Molly and ex in the same sentence in his letters.
Jah, they needed to talk.
He needed to know exactly what she thought of him. The two-timing jerk.
He and Anna were two peas in a pod.
And Hallie’s heart had begun to thaw under Kiah’s considerable charm.
No more. Men couldn’t be trusted.
The silence stretched endlessly, and despite Joy having left a notebook, a purple pen, a word-search puzzle, and a romance book for Hallie to read, she was bored. Who wanted to read a love story when real-life relationships were doomed? Like she’d blurted at the springs, love hurts. And sooner or later a man would always break a woman’s heart. Jah, she’d known Kiah was too risky. She’d known, and yet allowed him to start making inroads into her heart anyway.
She mentally rewrote part of an old nursery rhyme.
Kiah, Kiah, filled with sweet caramel apple pie, kissed a girl and made her cry…
She was alone now. Who would know?
And cry she did.
She must’ve cried herself to sleep, because she woke up to Mammi checking her forehead for a fever, while muttering about Hallie’s flushed complexion. Joy set a bowlful of fudge-mint ice cream beside her while Kiah arranged a checkerboard on a tray.
Voices came from the kitchen. Anna came into the room, handed a mug of something to Kiah, and whispered something; then she ran upstairs, humming.
Humming! Anna never
hummed unless she was cheerful, which meant Kiah had succumbed to her considerable charms, the jerk.
The cheater, cheating on the cheater with an innocent scribe and her sister. Unless he lied about Molly’s unfaithfulness…or his daed pushed a different agenda by believing cheating Molly’s story…
Hallie’s throat closed and her eyes burned. She blinked rapidly. She’d cried enough if Mammi had noticed Hallie’s blotchy skin.
“No fever,” Mammi said. “Maybe the quilt is too heavy, and it’s making you hot.”
She was hot, but it wasn’t because of the blanket. It was more due to her temper, which had reached the boiling point. She glared at Kiah, the cheater, who according to his daed must’ve been engaged the whole time they were kissing last night and now had obviously made plans with her older sister. They’d likely do some kissing, too.
And even if the blanket did contribute to the heat, it didn’t matter, because there were men present who weren’t members of the family and she was reclining. The poor souls might be overcome with lust at the sight of her bare toes. She rolled her eyes. Then she sighed.
“Eat your ice cream,” Joy said. “It’ll cool you off. Plus it’s chocolate and that makes everything better.”
That was debatable. She opened her mouth to argue the point, but then shut it. They wouldn’t care anyway.
“It’s fudge mint,” Kiah corrected.
“Fudge, chocolate, whatever.” Joy waved a hand in dismissal and nudged the bowl closer to Hallie before turning and trotting off. Mammi followed her.
“Wouldn’t the mint negate the chocolate part of the fudge?” Kiah asked. He turned to Hallie and frowned. “Are you angry at me?”
Had he noticed the glare, the clenched fists, or was he picking up on some other signal?
She pursed her lips. “Furious. Jah. I am. Full disclosure, Esh,” Hallie bit out.
The Amish Secret Wish Page 17