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The Heartbreaker (Amish Country Brides)

Page 3

by J. E. B. Spredemann


  “Mike? Michael Eicher, is that you?” One of the young men he’d hung out with in rumspringa smiled and clasped his uninjured shoulder.

  “Jah.” Ach, what was his name?

  “Peter Stoltzfus. Remember?”

  “Pete. Jah. Jah, of course.” He and Pete had spent many hours together, mostly getting into trouble. Pete had a full beard that indicated he was married. “You’re married, ain’t so?”

  “Jah.” He nodded across the yard and his eyes connected with a young woman sitting on the porch swing holding a baby in her arms. “Sandy Mae.”

  Michael frowned, trying to recollect the woman, but she didn’t look familiar to him. Her name didn’t ring a bell either.

  “She and her family moved here from Iowa about five years ago,” Pete explained.

  Michael nodded. That would have been about the time he’d left for the Englisch world. He studied Pete’s fraa. She was pretty good looking. Just not as gorgeous as Miriam.

  Pete’s elbow slammed into Michael’s side. “Don’t get any ideas. It won’t go well for you.”

  Michael frowned at his former friend. “Hey, that wasn’t necessary.”

  “I mean it, Mike. I know your reputation. I’ve heard the stories.”

  “Jah?” Michael’s brow lifted and he smirked. “Stories, huh?”

  “None good. There was even a rumor…” his voice trailed off.

  “A rumor?”

  His waved his hand in front of his face. “Ach, forget I said anything. Just mind your behavior.”

  Michael chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  “You planning on making a confession?” Apparently, his sarcasm was lost on Pete.

  He sneered.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Pete shook his head. “Figures. Listen, I meant what I said. Stay away from my fraa.”

  “Not a problem. I have somebody else on my mind.”

  He suddenly wished he could be a fly on the wall. If Pete knew his reputation, surely many of these people were talking about him at this very moment. Was Miriam? His eyes focused on her and he waited until she looked at him. Except she hadn’t. Not even once. He frowned. Maybe he’d seek her out after the common meal or catch her glancing his way during the service.

  He leaned over and whispered to Pete. “Who is Miriam married to?”

  “Miriam Yoder?”

  “Jah.”

  “She’s an alt maedel.”

  “What?” He hardly believed that. “Why? How? As beautiful as she is…”

  Pete huffed, clearly losing patience with him. “Listen, Mike. If you’re planning on playing the field, leave the women in our community out of your game. Go back to your Englisch world.”

  Ach… “But she’s single. Maybe she’s looking for some fun.” He cocked a brow.

  “She isn’t.” Pete glowered at him.

  “How do you know?”

  “She’s not like that.”

  Oh, but she was… “We used to…have a thing.”

  Pete shook his head. “The way I heard it, you had a thing with every girl in this district.”

  “Nee, not every.” There had been a couple that he had absolutely no interest in or that he’d been closely related to.

  “Why are you even back here, Mike?”

  His eyes drifted in Miriam’s direction. “I came to recover. Spend time with my grossdawdi.”

  “I meant here. At meeting.” He frowned. “You are not planning on getting baptized.”

  “Nee, Dawdi insisted I come. I had no choice.” Might as well make the most out of the situation.

  “Well, then I suggest you pay attention to the sermons.” Pete looked at him pointedly.

  Michael’s eyes wandered back to Miriam. “I’ll be paying attention, alright.”

  “To. The. Sermons.” Pete huffed.

  “Jah, jah. The sermons.” No doubt they would be directed at him. If Pete knew about his reputation, there’s a good chance the entire Amish district did. But he wouldn’t let the sermons faze him. He enjoyed his footloose and fancy-free lifestyle. And he wasn’t about to give it up for the bishop or anybody else.

  FIVE

  “What did you think of what Minister Jake said?” Dawdi pinned him with a discerning gaze. Could he read his thoughts?

  Ach, had he even heard what Minister Jake preached on? “Which part?” He swallowed, hoping Dawdi would throw him a line.

  “The lust of the flesh?”

  He mentally squirmed under Dawdi’s scrutiny.

  Michael shrugged nonchalantly, doing his best not to show his discomfort. “Interesting. Typical Amish sermon.” Long. Boring. At least he’d had a pretty woman to stare at. To dream about. To—

  “You weren’t even listening, were you?”

  Busted. “I heard some of it.” He desperately tried to recall one of the verses he’d heard over and over again throughout his Amish upbringing that might apply to a sermon on the topic. “Love not the world…neither the things that are in the world. Uh…the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life are not of the Father.” Not too shabby. He grinned.

  “Nee, you left some out. Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever.”

  “See, Dawdi. I didn’t even need to attend meeting today. I knew you’d give me a sermon when we got home,” he said wryly.

  Dawdi frowned at him, his disapproval crystal clear. “I will not tolerate disrespect in my home, gross sohn or no. Do you understand?”

  Thoroughly chastised, he hung his head. “Sorry, Dawdi.”

  “It’s Der Herr you need to apologize to.”

  “See, that’s what I don’t get. I mean, I know you believe all the stuff in that book, but is it even real? Isn’t it just something that was written by men? To me, it seems like it was just written by some stick-in-the-mud who hated their life and doesn’t want anyone else to have any fun either.”

  Dawdi’s eyes widened and his mouth formed an O. “If that is what you think, we must not be reading the same book.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jesus said He came that we might have abundant life. Der Herr gives good gifts to His kinner. As a matter of fact, every good gift comes from Der Herr.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There is no maybe. Gott is not a liar.” Dawdi speared him with a demanding gaze. “The verses I chust quoted. What is it about them you disagree with?”

  Michael shrugged. “I guess the part about not having love if you live in the world.”

  “So you think you have love in your heart?”

  “Jah. I think so.”

  “Really? For who? These women that you’ve shared the marriage bed with—that you were not married to—how did you love them?”

  Michael’s eyes widened. How on earth did Dawdi know these details of his life? Had he heard the rumors among the g’may? He swallowed hard. “Well, I…” He huffed. “Look, I’ve never forced anyone. Never. They were willing.”

  “That wasn’t my question. I’m sure the devil is happy to provide all the sin and pleasure you desire. But that is temporary. Sooner or later, there are consequences that will have to be dealt with.”

  He didn’t know if he liked his life being under a microscope, especially Dawdi’s.

  “How are you displaying love, Michael? Is it by giving a woman attention, leading her on, only to dump her like yesterday’s garbage? Is it by satisfying your own fleshly desires? Is it by possibly fathering children out-of-wedlock?”

  “I’ve never fathered any children.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  Actually, he’d never stuck around long enough to find out. Besides, he’d always—well, almost always—taken measures to prevent t
hat. “Not that I know of.”

  “Which means it is quite possible. How many women have you been with, Michael?”

  He shook his head. This conversation was getting way too personal. “Let’s just say a lot.”

  “So, in reality, you could have many kinner out there. Kinner without a gut father to lead them, that will likely be raised in a Godless home. Unless their mothers had the doctors destroy the boppli inside them.”

  “I…” He swallowed. He had no words. He’d never even considered…

  “Think about your life, sohn. You think you are having fun. But it cannot be fun for the one who is paying for your irresponsible behavior.” Dawdi’s eyes shown with tears. “You need to learn what love is. Real love. Love is not doing as you please, fulfilling your own desires. Love is selfless. Love looks to the other person’s needs. Love is giving of yourself for the good of another person and not expecting anything in return.”

  Thoroughly chastised—again, Michael dropped his head—again. “I don’t even know how to do that. This is how I’ve always been. Even if I wanted to change, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  Dawdi reached for his Bible. “Start with reading about Jesus. He is our greatest example of love.”

  Michael hesitated when Dawdi offered his Bible, but he took it out of respect. “I don’t…”

  “Just read about the life of Jesus. That’s all I ask.”

  Michael nodded, because he didn’t know how to say no to Dawdi.

  ~

  Miriam closed her eyes and allowed herself to go back to a place she hadn’t visited often. She pictured Michael, with his gorgeous…well, everything. There had been no flaw in Michael Eicher, as far as she could see. At least, not physically speaking.

  He’d had a dazzling smile, eyes a girl could get lost in, and a build that could land him on the cover of a magazine. Of course, Miriam would never be that shallow as to think that looks were everything.

  Nee, at first, she’d been reticent to agree to a ride with him. She’d seen him take many girls home in their district. Most of them, actually. But he didn’t seem to be interested in any of those girls. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t remember Michael taking any of them home more than a couple of times. With many of the girls he’d courted, it had only been once. Perhaps he’d known what he was looking for and none of them were it.

  She didn’t want to guess. She figured she’d be like every other girl. Ride home with him once, maybe twice, then he’d move on. Unless he decided she was the one for him.

  So when he’d asked her home a third time, and beyond, she was sure they’d had something. Just knowing he’d escorted so many girls home had made her nervous. But after just ten minutes or so, he had set her mind at ease.

  Michael had been a likeable guy, for sure and certain. His sense of humor, intense stare, and words of kindness were enough to make any girl fall for him. And Miriam had. She’d fallen hard. After their third, then fourth, ride home together, she was certain he was the one. Her one and only.

  Ach, she’d been so foolish. She took for granted that he’d meant every word he’d spoken to her. She’d certainly meant her own words. But he hadn’t meant any of them. Not one. Every single word had been a bold-faced lie. Nothing more than bait to lure her into his arms. Like a snake charmer playing his pungi. And it had worked well. She’d given him everything, believing he’d be hers for always. He’d charmed her for sure and certain.

  No doubt he’d laughed when attending his final gathering and he’d asked a different girl to ride home with him. He hadn’t so much as looked her way. In fact, he’d ignored her completely. As though she didn’t exist. She’d been thoroughly humiliated. And it had all been nothing more than a game to him.

  Just a couple of weeks later, Michael had shaken the dust off his boots and left their community for good. And good riddance. She hoped she’d never have to see his face again.

  She’d been so disgraced after what he’d done. She never returned to a young folks gathering after that. Nee, she’d left the community shortly thereafter and stayed away for nearly two years, allowing her battered heart to heal. But the Englisch life had not been for her. She’d missed the ways of her people. She’d missed her folks and her siblings.

  But when she returned, things hadn’t been the same. She joined the church, but she decided not to pursue a romantic relationship with anyone. It hurt too much to lay her heart out, only for it to be trampled on. She didn’t think she could ever trust another man again. How would she know whether they were sincere in their affections toward her? She’d thought Michael had been. She’d been so so wrong.

  Now, Michael was back home. And living in his grossdawdi’s house, no less. Which meant she’d have to see him on a regular basis. Perhaps she should quit her job. But she’d been caring for Sammy Eicher for two years now and they’d formed a bond. She’d felt like he was kin now, like he was her own grossdawdi. They’d had many conversations.

  He encouraged her to find a man, not knowing it had been his own gross sohn that had turned her against love. Sammy had been married over fifty years. Ever since Roberta—Bertie—died, Miriam had been the one to care for Sammy.

  Her family had always been close to Bertie and Sammy. They’d been neighbors Miriam’s entire life, living just three houses away. In fact, Bertie had watched over Miriam and her siblings a few times when her folks had traveled to other states for weddings and such. Most of Sammy and Bertie’s relatives still lived in this community too, but Michael’s family had moved back to Pennsylvania.

  Michael hadn’t grown up in this community, so they’d never attended school together. In fact, he and his immediate family had only been in the area for a couple of years before they’d met. When Michael left the community, his folks relocated shortly thereafter.

  SIX

  This was the day Miriam had been dreading. Ever since she’d learned of Michael’s return, her heart had been tumultuous. But she couldn’t let his presence interfere with her care of Sammy. If only Michael was more like his grossdawdi. Strong, faithful, trustworthy, upright. If only…

  She quietly called through Sammy’s screen door.

  “Come on in, maedel.”

  She drew in a breath of courage and stepped into Sammy’s house. “Guten morgen, Sammy.”

  “How’s my favorite maedel doing today?”

  Her gaze flitted around the quiet living room.

  Sammy leaned close and whispered. “He’s taking a nap. Said he was exhausted.”

  She nodded then shrugged. “I’m well in body. The other parts are quite ferhoodled.”

  “I think I might know why.” His brows lifted and he gestured toward a bedroom.

  How did Sammy know? Was she that obvious? Or had Michael mentioned something? “It’s not easy seeing him again.”

  “You two…?”

  “A long time ago. It’s ancient history now.”

  Sammy nodded.

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “Would you mind starting with the dishes? I’m afraid I’ve gotten behind.” He shook his head. “My gross sohn can’t do too much yet with his broken arm.”

  And she knew how much Sammy’s arthritis bothered him. He’d likely not been able to do much more than prepare their meals. She made a mental note to prepare extra dishes and stick them in the freezer for future use. Perhaps she’d make a breakfast casserole for them.

  “What injuries does he have?”

  “He had some pretty gut scrapes and bruises. The doctor’s main concern was a concussion he had, but that seems to be fine now. Chust a broken arm and a broken leg. Der Herr spared his life for sure. I hope this will be a wake-up call for him.”

  Wake-up call or not, Miriam planned to keep her distance.

  “Oh, and before you start, would you mind fetching the dishes from Michael’s room? I don’t think he’ll wake up. He’s on some strong medication that knocks him out.”

  She swallowed. “I…I can do t
hat.” So much for keeping her distance.

  Sammy stepped out onto the porch, while Miriam filled the sink with hot soapy water. She inhaled slowly, holding her breath for a few seconds, then exhaled. She could do this.

  She tiptoed to the door of the spare bedroom and turned the knob as quietly as possible. Good. Just as Sammy had said, Michael seemed to be out like a light, a soft snore escaping his perfect lips. Why had she noticed his lips? Her eyes inadvertently roamed over him as he slept. Ach, he was just as handsome as he’d always been, if not more so. One of his tan muscled arms rested at his side, while the other lay across his bare chest in a cast. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took. He was so attractive she could hardly look away.

  She mentally chastised herself, remembering why she’d entered the room in the first place. Great. His dishes were on a table. On the other side of the bed. If she went around the bed, she might bump it and wake Michael up—the last thing she wanted to do. But she didn’t want to reach over him either. Perhaps Sammy would forgive her if she washed Michael’s dishes later? But no, he’d specifically asked her to retrieve them.

  Quit being a coward!

  She gathered her resolve and opted for the latter option. As gingerly as possible, she reached over the bed. Glass in hand, she startled when something brushed up against her chest. She looked down to see Michael’s hand.

  Horrified, she took the half-filled water glass and splashed it in his face. Then seemingly of its own accord, her hand flew across his stubbled cheek. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

  She stormed out of the room empty-handed. From now on, Michael Eicher would fetch his own dishes. And as far as she was concerned, he could wash them too. Injured or not.

  She was quite certain Sammy would side with her on this one. Ugh!

  ~

  Michael smirked as Miriam stomped off. He’d always liked her spunk. But boy did she have an arm! He rubbed his cheek, which was likely bright pink. Too bad she couldn’t have slapped the side that hadn’t been bruised in the accident. It now throbbed.

  He knew he’d deserved it, though. That and more.

 

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