She nodded, feeling her face heating up. She didn’t like to confess that she had eavesdropped on them. “I’m so happy for you both. I know Sam loves and misses his mudder very much. So do you.”
And she was happy for them. So very happy that they’d reconciled. That they could be a loving father and son once more. But she didn’t believe that love included her.
“You didn’t listen to our entire conversation, did you?” he asked, watching her quietly.
“Ne, I thought it was too personal. Once I realized you had everything in control, I returned to the schoolhouse.” She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d cried too. That even without him telling her he loved her, her heart was breaking once more.
“Then you didn’t hear Sam tell me that he loves you too. Nor did you hear me explain to him that it’s time for us to move on with our lives and be happy again. Or that Sam wishes you could be his mudder now and I want you to be my wife,” he said.
She stared, too stunned to speak for several pounding moments.
“You...you told Sam that?”
He nodded. “I certainly did.”
“And Sam told you he loves me?”
Another nod. “He did.”
It was too much. Oh, how she wanted to believe him. But that would require her to take a leap of faith. To trust him.
“But Sam ran away when he saw you kissing me at the box social. And then again during the school program.” She felt shocked to the tips of her toes.
“Ja, he was still feeling guilty for the house fire. He didn’t think he had a right to love you and be happy again. I told him that’s not right. The fire wasn’t his fault at all. I told him I love you too. I want us to be a familye.” Jesse made the admission slowly, thoughtfully, as if he really meant it.
“I... I don’t understand. Why would you say all those things?” She couldn’t believe it. This was a joke. He was teasing her. Wasn’t he?
“Because it’s true. I love you, Becca. Please don’t go. Don’t break my heart. I want you to stay.”
Don’t break his heart? All this time, she’d been fearing he might hurt her, not the other way around. His plea made her want to love and keep him safe. To protect and cherish him the way she longed to be loved and treasured.
“But...but you love your wife. You don’t love me. Not the way you loved your wife,” she cried.
“My love for Alice was filled with a deep concern for her welfare, appreciation, respect and passion. That’s exactly how I feel about you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve fought my feelings for a long time but I can’t fight them anymore. I love you, Becca. And if you’ll have me, I’d like you to be my wife. I know it’s what Alice would want for me too.”
She gave a shuddering laugh of incredulity. This was happening so fast and she was having difficulty wrapping her mind around what he was saying. “Are you sure Sam feels this way too?”
“Ja, he loves you for being there for him. For helping us during a critical time in our lives. For never giving up on us.”
She jerked when Jesse lifted his head and called to his son.
“Sam! Would you come in here, please?”
As if in a dream, Becca watched as Sam appeared in the doorway, holding his little straw hat in his hands. Like his father, he was wearing his Sunday best, his cheeks gleaming pink from a good scrubbing. It touched her deeply that the two of them had bathed and dressed in their finest clothes just to pay her a visit and...
They were proposing marriage to her! It finally sank in to her muddled brain. They were really here, standing in front of her, asking her to marry them. Jesse wasn’t lying to her. He was speaking the truth.
“Teacher Becca, danke for everything you’ve done for me and Daed.” The boy spoke in a soft voice but it carried clear across the room. Not a whisper. No, not at all.
Hearing Sam talk out loud like this was almost more than Becca could take in. She went to him and knelt down.
“Oh, Sam! You’re speaking again. It’s so wundervoll.” Before she could think to stop herself, she pulled him into her arms for a tight hug. Her emotions almost overwhelmed her and she realized tears ran down her cheeks.
Finally, she released the boy and he stepped back, smiling wide. She stood and faced Jesse, her thoughts zipping around in her head like fireflies.
“I can’t believe all of this is true,” she said.
“Believe it, Becca. It’s all true.” Jesse took Sam’s hand and the two gazed at her with such adoration, so much expectation and love, that Becca felt like she was living a dream.
“Last night, Sam and I talked it over in depth,” Jesse said. “I realized that, if I didn’t tell you how we felt, you wouldn’t know and might leave us forever. Until you came into our lives, I didn’t realize how much Gott loves and cares for me and Sam. You’ve helped me realize that, no matter how difficult life’s trials might be, the Lord is always there for us. I know that because He brought us you.”
Jesse reached inside his hat and withdrew a white envelope, which he handed to her. It had her name scrawled across the front and she recognized the bishop’s handwriting. Becca took it with trembling fingers but didn’t open it.
“In case you’re wondering, it’s a very glowing letter of recommendation from the school board. Last night, after you left the school, I explained to the bishop and other board members how much you’ve done for Sam and me. Bishop Yoder has heard reports from other parents as well and was in agreement that you are one of the most loving, caring teachers he has ever met. You always go the extra mile. Nothing is too difficult for you. Not when it comes to your scholars.”
She blinked. “You did that for me? The board really wrote me a gut letter?”
He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Ja, but I’m hoping you won’t use it. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to make another career change to be a wife and mudder instead. I know how much you love teaching and I want your happiness more than anything else. But I’d rather you remain here in Colorado with Sam and me. I want you to be my wife and Sam’s new mudder.”
“Ja, Becca. Please stay with us,” Sam said, his voice loud and clear, as if it was gaining strength with every word he spoke.
“Oh, Jesse! Sam!” Tears of joy coursed freely down her cheeks. And just like that, the pain of Vernon’s betrayal melted away into nothingness. Her heart was full of happiness, not pain. She knew deep inside that she could trust Jesse. That he truly loved and wanted her.
“I love you both so much,” she said. “I never dared hope you could love me too. I thought... I thought I was unlovable and I didn’t want to leave you but I didn’t know what else to do.”
Jesse stepped close and enfolded her in his arms. She clung to him, resting the palms of her hands against his solid chest. She fed off his strength, letting it fill her with such joy she could hardly hold it all. She didn’t shy away when he kissed her deeply. In the background, she heard Sam’s happy laughter.
Finally Jesse lifted his head and looked deep into her eyes. “You really love me too? Because I don’t want to be hurt again either.”
She heard the uncertainty in his voice and knew he’d feared her answer too. After all, it couldn’t be easy to propose marriage when you don’t know how the bride might feel about you.
As she gazed lovingly into his eyes, she reached up and cupped the side of his bearded face with her hand. “Ja, I love you, Jesse. So very much. You and Sam. I can hardly believe it’s possible that he’s overcome his silence almost overnight.”
She glanced at the boy and saw his smiling face, his gleaming eyes. He looked so happy standing there, watching his father embrace her. He seemed so confident now. The complete opposite of the scared little boy she’d met all those months earlier when she’d first come here to teach school.
“Anything is possible with the Lord’s help. You have
healed our broken hearts. We have been so blessed,” Jesse said.
“You are right. When we put our trust in Gott, anything is possible,” Becca said, believing what she said. The Lord had truly worked wonders in their lives.
Jesse reached down and picked up Sam. Together, they shared a three-way hug, overjoyed by the day. They had each learned to put their faith in Gott’s redeeming love and in each other. Becca felt an overwhelming trust in Jesse. She knew he truly loved her. That he was counting on her to love him in return. And together, she knew they would have a bright and happy future.
“You’ll marry us, won’t you, Becca?” Sam asked, resting his little hand on her shoulder. From the safety of his father’s arms, he gazed down at her with expectation.
She wrapped her own arms around them both, squeezing tightly, determined to never let go. “Of course, I’ll marry you. Just try and stop me.”
“That’s gut, because I’ve already spoken to the bishop about it and asked permission from your cousin Jakob and Dawdi Zeke too,” Jesse said.
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “You have? When did you do all that?”
“I spoke to the bishop last night but I went over to your place early this morning, after you had left the house.”
“Really? You’re very sneaky. I had no idea.”
He nodded. “I asked them all to keep it secret until I could speak with you,” he said.
Becca laughed, filled with more happiness than she ever thought possible. “I’m so glad you did. Now we have something wonderful to look forward to.”
“Ja, we do. Years and years of happiness.”
She couldn’t agree more. This was her heart’s desire. To remain here in Colorado with Jesse, as his wife. To become Sam’s mother and hopefully have more children as time went on. And as they walked out of the schoolhouse and locked the front door, Becca realized she wanted nothing more.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Secret Amish Crush by Marta Perry.
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A Secret Amish Crush
by Marta Perry
Chapter One
Lydia Stoltzfus had gotten only a mile down the road toward town when the first huge wet flakes began to fall. Several spattered Dolly’s black coat, and the mare lifted her head, sniffed the air and gave a soft whicker.
“I know,” Lydia said, as much to herself as to the mare. “We weren’t supposed to get so much as a flake today. Maybe it will stop as soon as it started.”
Driving another few hundred feet along the road was enough to convince her that hope was futile. The flakes had begun by melting on the narrow country road, but now they were sticking, and the sound of Dolly’s hooves was muffled by their coating.
Should she keep going or turn back? Daad and Mammi would worry, that was certain sure, but how could she fail Elizabeth? Elizabeth Fisher, the elderly owner of the coffee shop where Lydia worked, had been sick off and on for most of the winter. She’d be relying on Lydia, and Lydia couldn’t let her down.
Keeping a firm grip on the reins, Lydia tried to discourage Dolly’s excited reaction to snow after what had been a fairly mild March. Those who had proclaimed an early spring in Lost Creek were going to be sadly disappointed, she feared.
“Komm, Dolly. Act your age.” The mare was nearly as old as she was, and at twenty-five, Lydia was seeing even her best friends begin to use the word maidal in connection with her. Old maid.
A car went past, moving slowly in response to the increasingly slick road, and a sliver of apprehension slid through her. Still, Dolly was sure-footed, and she certain sure didn’t get excited about traffic at her age. As long as they kept a steady pace, they should be fine.
Lydia had about three minutes to think that before she heard the sound of a car behind her—a car coming fast. She hugged the side of the road, hoping for the best. The driver was going much too fast for conditions, but there was plenty of room for the car to pass—
Without slowing, the vehicle rushed up on her. It was going to clear...but then, at the last possible moment, it clipped her wheel. She felt the buggy slide to the right and urged the mare back to the left, but it was too late. Lydia’s right rear wheel slid off the road, and she felt the jolt of dropping down to the berm. Dolly, with a sudden return to good sense, came to a halt and there they sat, half on and half off the road.
Breathing a silent prayer of thanks that they were both unhurt, Lydia assessed the situation. Would Dolly be able to get the buggy back onto the road or not? Shaking the lines, she tried to speak with more assurance than she felt. “Walk up, Dolly.” She clucked at her. “You can do it.”
Dolly made one half-hearted try and the buggy slid even farther. The mare halted, her ears back as if listening for a better idea.
“Stubborn creature.” Lydia anchored the lines with a quick turn and slid cautiously down onto the wet surface. Slippery, very slippery underfoot. She moved slowly around the mare, patting her, to the offside.
“Komm along, girl.” Grasping the headstall, she urged the mare to move forward. Dolly pawed with her forefeet, nervously testing the surface.
“Komm.” Lydia tugged, the mare danced, the buggy rocked. And then Lydia’s feet slid out from under her, she tried to right herself, and she landed flat on her face in the snow.
For an instant she lay there, stunned. Dolly reached down to nuzzle her, blowing warmly on her already wet face.
“Enough.” Lydia pushed the mare’s head out of the way and sat up. At least, she tried to sit up. It took two tries to make it happen, and then another three to get her up to standing.
Clinging to the harness, she caught her breath and tried to wipe the snow from her face. She hadn’t quite finished when her ears caught the sound of another buggy coming up behind her. Relief swept through her. Help had come. Anyone with a buggy would be someone she knew.
The driver pulled up and slid down from the seat. Enos Fisher, who had the farm next to Daad’s, came hurrying toward her, followed by another man.
“Ach, Lydia, what happened?” Enos reached her, slithering a little on the wet surface.
“She’s got herself into a pickle.”
The swirling snow hid the other man’s face, but she recognized the voice even though she hadn’t heard it in years, and something in her jolted to attention. It was Simon, Enos’s son. Several years her senior, he’d been the object of her schoolgirl crush back when she was a skinny kid and he was courting Rebecca Schultz. They’d married and disappeared out to an Ohio settlement, and she hadn’t seen him since.
And now he was back, and his first impression of her would be that of a sopping wet female who couldn’t even keep her buggy on the road.
Hoping her mortification didn’t show in her face, Lydia glanced up, snow whirling between them. “We heard you were coming back, Simon. Wilkom.” She hesitated, unsure of whether to mention the death of his wife or not.
Enos broke in before either of them could say another word. “Komm, Simon. We’ll push, and Lydia, you get in and take the lines. We’ll soon have you on the road again. You want to go home?”
She shook her head as she swung up to the seat. “I’m on my way to work. Elizabeth will be needing me.”
“Gut. We’re going there ourselves, so you can follow us. We’ll see you there safe, won’t we, Simon?”
Simon, looking to Lydia’s eyes as if he’d rather do anything else, nodded and put his shoulder against the rear of the buggy. With both of them pushing and her urging Dolly on, she was back on the road in moments. Before she could even express her thanks, they’d gone b
ack to their own buggy. Trying to ignore her wet clothes and the hair that was straggling from under her kapp, Lydia fell in behind them, and they were off.
The snow kept on coming down, but with another buggy to follow, she realized that both she and Dolly felt more comfortable. In another ten minutes they’d reached the coffee shop, driving down the alley alongside to the shed where the horses could be safe and comfortable.
Lydia had Dolly taken care of quickly, and as she moved past Enos’s buggy, she spotted something she hadn’t before. Or rather, someone. A little girl, bundled up in a winter jacket and mittens, snuggled under a carriage robe in the back seat. Simon’s little girl, she’d guess.
She stopped next to the buggy, smiling. “Hello. I’m Lydia. What’s your name?”
Wide blue eyes stared at her from a small, pale face. Then the child turned and buried her face in the seat.
Before Lydia could come up with a word, Simon appeared next to her. “Her name is Becky. She doesn’t like to talk to strangers.”
The words could have been said in a variety of ways—excusing the child or expressing encouragement to her and thanks for Lydia’s interest. Instead Simon made it sound as if she were at fault for intruding, and his disapproving expression forbade her from trying again.
The imp of mischief that never failed to lead her into something she shouldn’t do suddenly came to life, and she responded with a cheerful smile.
“I just thought Becky might like to have a mug of hot chocolate to warm her up. I’m going to have one. What do you think, Becky?”
Simon’s displeasure loomed over her, but she focused on the child, holding her hand out and smiling. For an instant she thought it was no good. But then a small hand found its way to hers, and she lifted the little girl to the ground. Hand in hand they headed for the door, and Lydia knew without looking that Simon was still frowning.
* * *
The Amish Teacher's Dilemma and Healing Their Amish Hearts Page 35