Amish Romance BOXED Set: Amish Days: Sally's Story (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Read online

  “Get out,” he said quietly.

  I bit my lips to stop their trembling. Using every ounce of willpower, I opened the door. I tried to put my feet on the ground, but my legs simply wouldn’t move.

  “Sally,” Bryan whispered and then sighed. “Get out.”

  “I know, I know,” I muttered, my voice breaking. “It’s just that, well, you’re my best friend.”

  And with those words, sobs racked my body. Bryan groaned and reached over me to pull the door closed. He stiffly drew me to him, and I lay my head on his shoulder and cried. My heart was caught in a vice, and I couldn’t get enough breath. I sputtered and wept and coughed. Bryan patted my hair and rubbed my back.

  My body shook as if I were standing in an ice storm with no coat, nothing to protect me. Bryan’s arms around me tightened and his touch made me cry all the harder.

  “Sally, stop crying. Please stop crying.” He lifted me away from him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I stammered, falling back against his shoulder. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  The muscles in his chest tightened. “Yeah, well, I’ll live.”

  My sobs slowed and become soft hiccups. Outside the car, the crickets sang their lonely love songs. Bryan and I were silent, halfway twisted around each other in a brittle embrace.

  When my breathing evened out, I pulled away. I knew my eyes were a swollen mess and my mascara had probably made black rivers down my cheeks.

  “Can we be friends?” I asked, my voice quiet.

  Bryan shook his head. “I doubt it. Maybe someday.”

  I blew out my breath. “Okay,” I mumbled. “Okay.”

  This time when I gripped the door handle, my fingers worked and my legs worked and I got out and shut the door behind me. I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder and stood perfectly still as I watched Bryan start the car and leave the drive. A jagged piece of my heart went with him, and I wondered if things would ever be all right again.

  ****

  Strangely, no one spoke to me when I entered the house with my swollen face and eyes. Ann started toward me from the front room, but Hope grasped her arm and pulled her back to the couch. I dropped my backpack at the foot of the stairs and climbed slowly to the bedroom, praying all the way up that Mary wouldn’t be there.

  But she was. She took one look at me, her blue eyes gawking, and gasped. “Whatever happened to you?”

  I ignored her. Even though the hour was still early, I methodically got out my pajamas and plodded down the hall to the bathroom to change.

  Mary was waiting for me when I returned. She had pulled down the covers and plumped my pillow. She gently pried my jeans and shirt out of my hands. She folded them and placed them in the drawer.

  I stood, watching, as if I didn’t know what to do with myself.

  “Come on, Sally,” she said, leading me to the bed. She helped me lie down and tucked the light quilt under my chin.

  When I closed my eyes, it felt like I was closing them over buckets of grit. My throat tightened and a chill shook through my chest.

  “It will be okay,” Mary said. “I promise.”

  My mind was foggy, but not so foggy as to marvel at Mary’s kindness. It wasn’t her way—to be naturally kind and loving. Was I so pathetic, then, that some odd instinct inside her had taken over? Whatever the reason, I was grateful.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled without opening my eyes.

  “You sleep. I’ll tell Mamm and Dat that you won’t be coming to evening prayers tonight. I’ll say you’re not feeling well.”

  I turned on my side and burrowed deep into the covers. I heard the door click shut behind her. I willed my mind to not think, but even so, Zeke’s face regarded me as I fell asleep.

  ****

  I tried to get out of going to school the next morning, but Aunt Ruth wouldn’t hear of it. “We don’t shirk our duties in this family,” she said with a raised brow.

  “But I don’t feel well.”

  She put her rough hand on my forehead and declared me fit as a fiddle. Sighing, I took my backpack and walked outside and down the road to the bus stop.

  It’s strange how you can go through a whole day being invisible. I pulled inside myself and avoided talking to anyone at school, and no one spoke to me. Not even the teachers. It was like I didn’t exist for the day.

  Which was perfect.

  Only Margot commented as I got off the bus. “You okay, kiddo?”

  I moved my head as if to say so-so. She reached over and squeezed my arm before I descended the steps.

  “Hang in there, whatever it is,” she said and smiled.

  “Thanks, Margot,” I replied.

  I stepped onto the packed dirt and gravel and blinked as a light rain brushed my face and eyelashes.

  “Perfect,” I said aloud, digging in my backpack for something to hold over my head.

  “What’s perfect?”

  I jolted upright and swirled to see Zeke smiling at me.

  “You’re here!” I cried before I could stop myself. Hastily, I clamped my lips shut, embarrassed at the obvious joy in my voice.

  “I am here. Against all reason.” He helped me zip up my backpack, and then he slung it over his shoulder.

  “But I thought … well, I thought—” I was actually stuttering.

  “I know what you thought. And you were right.” His face was close, too close, and I had trouble getting air.

  He continued. “I just happened to be around when your bus pulled up.” His eyes didn’t leave mine, and once again I knew he saw way too much.

  “Just happened?” I repeated and was shocked to hear a note of teasing in my voice.

  “Fine. You caught me.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling and his mouth lifting into a conspiratorial smile.

  We started toward the house, our steps in sync. When we paused at the top of the drive, he stopped and looked down at me. “Are your plans to leave Hollybrook still the same?”

  I swallowed. With all my heart, I wanted to tell him no, no, no, I simply can’t leave you—I can’t leave the possibility of us. But I’d made a promise to Jack. I had no choice.

  “Still the same,” I whispered.

  He let out his breath and gazed at the fields across the road. Then he focused back on me and touched my face to trace a raindrop down my cheek.

  “Could we be friends?” I asked him, and the irony of having asked Bryan the same question not even twenty-four hours earlier wasn’t lost on me.

  He shook his head. “Nee. T’wouldn’t be good.”

  “But I won’t be in Ohio forever.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  “When Jack is older, I could come back.”

  “I’m soon to be twenty-one,” he stated, as if that explained everything.

  “Still young, right?”

  “Not so much to my dat. He’s looking to get me married. And right quick if he has his way.”

  I clasped Zeke’s arm and when his eyes followed my movement, I dropped my hand. “But it would only be a few years.”

  A few years is forever.

  Heaviness hung between us. Then he spoke quickly, his expression clouded with doubt. “You truly think you would want to come back? Give up all your Englisch ways? Become plain for good?”

  I gazed into his eyes. Would I? Would I want to give it all up? After living again in the Englisch world? After living again with all the modern conveniences and freedoms?

  He stepped back and observed me from under the brim of his dripping hat. “You hesitate.”

  Tears burned my eyes, and I shook my head. I had hesitated, but I knew my answer. I would come back. I would give it all up.

  At that moment a strange peace filled me and I knew—I just knew—that even though God and I had never been close, my desire to return to Hollybrook had something to do with Him.

  Zeke took a long breath. “I see the struggle on your face. And I get it. You have to consider Jack. Just as I have to consider my family. My future.”<
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  I stood in the rain, getting wetter by the moment, and gazed at this man, this Amish man, whom I barely knew, but who had completely captured my heart.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We cannot fool ourselves, Sally.” He spoke with infinite sadness. “It wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work. We are from two different worlds, you and me. Two different times.”

  I began to cry. I wanted to ask him why then—if it was so hopeless—why did my heart refuse to give up? Why—amidst the futility of it all—did I still hope?

  He leaned down and brushed his lips tenderly against my damp cheek. Then he straightened to his full height, handed me my backpack, and stepped back. “You are a wonderful girl, Sally Jones. I will miss you.”

  “Wait? Are you leaving? What do you mean? I’m here for another year…” But he had already turned away. I ran after him for a few steps, then stopped, shame flowing through me. Could I be so brazen?

  An Amish girl would never chase a guy down the street.

  But I’m not Amish.

  Not yet.

  Still, my feet wouldn’t move, and I watched him disappear around a bend in the road.

  I clenched my jaw to stifle the sob that filled my throat. With firm resolve, I headed for the house. I would figure this out. I would figure this out.

  Hope would tell me to pray about it.

  And I would pray about it.

  God could do anything, couldn’t He? Didn’t He work in wonderful ways? Isn’t that what I’d been learning all these months?

  I wiped my eyes. I turned briefly and reached out my hand in the direction Zeke had gone. Wait for me, I breathed. Wait for me, Zeke.

  With determination, I continued walking toward the front porch.

  Afterword

  At that moment, that precious moment when I knew I belonged with Zeke, I couldn’t have known all my plans were about to crumble. I couldn’t have known I wasn’t going to live in Hollybrook for another year—I wasn’t going to live in Hollybrook for another month. Nor was I going to live in Hollybrook for even another week.

  For at the very moment that Zeke rounded the bend, another man—one who had flown across the country to claim me—waited.

  And I was about to meet him.

  The End

  Amish Days

  The Stranger

  An Amish Romance Short Story

  by Brenda Maxfield

  Copyright © 2015 Tica House Publishing All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  One

  The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save;

  he will rejoice over thee with joy;

  he will rest in his love;

  he will joy over thee with singing.

  Zephaniah 3:17 (King James Version)

  A car I didn’t recognize was parked crookedly close to Aunt Elizabeth’s bed of roses—as if the driver had been in a blind rush. I approached the red sedan and peered into the front seat, looking for a clue as to the owner, but only saw wadded-up candy bar wrappers (Snickers and Milky Way) plus an empty water bottle. I glanced into the backseat. Nothing.

  Odd. Not many strangers visited the Lehman’s. Especially in a car.

  I pulled open the squawking screen door, went to the front room, and there he stood. Fairly tall, about forty, graying black hair, dark eyes, and glasses. He wore jeans, a green polo shirt, and loafers. He was clearly nervous, one foot rubbing a circle in the rag rug. Uncle Benjamin, Aunt Elizabeth, and Aunt Ruth surrounded him, and all three looked ready to wilt.

  The stranger caught my eye, and my heart stopped. A look of excited awakening came over his face, and his lips parted with an intake of breath. He took a step toward me.

  “Sally,” he whispered.

  “Dad?” The word scraped up my throat.

  Uncle Benjamin and Aunt Elizabeth stepped back to let him pass. Every muscle in my body went rigid, and my backpack dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

  Dad strode to me with his arms out. I stared at him, my arms glued to my sides. His gaze flicked over my stance, and he paused, as if suddenly uncertain.

  “How are you, Sally?” he finally asked.

  I shook my head in slow motion, trying to grasp the fact that my runaway dad was standing there in the middle of the Lehman’s front room. Standing in front of me. With his arms out.

  Like I would hug him.

  “Mom’s dead,” I said, regaining my tongue. I felt sparks fly from my eyes, and I hoped they scorched him down to his feet.

  He glanced at my Amish relatives. “Can you give us a minute? Alone?”

  Aunt Elizabeth looked at me, her eyebrows raised, checking my response.

  “It’s all right,” I said, hardly recognizing the stiff voice as my own.

  “We’ll give you a few minutes,” Uncle Benjamin said, ever the domineering patriarch.

  The three of them walked through the dining area to the kitchen. I knew they wouldn’t eavesdrop—it wasn’t the Amish way. But I also knew they’d hover close in case they were needed.

  Dad cleared his throat. “Uh, Sally, can we sit for a few minutes?” He pointed to the couch.

  I lowered myself into the rocking chair next to the warming stove. He perched on the edge of the couch.

  “I read about your mother’s death. The car crash. I’m sorry. Deeply sorry.”

  “How nice of you.” The sarcasm rolled from my mouth.

  He frowned. “I had to clear up some business before I could come.”

  “It’s been months since she died. Almost a year.”

  He coughed. “I know. I had to get various things in order.”

  I coolly assessed him. He’d changed. He was thicker. Old-looking. But then, I hadn’t seen him for years. “Let me get this straight. You had to get things in order before you could tell your own son and daughter that you were sorry their mother died?”

  He flinched. “I know. It doesn’t sound good. But I’m here now.”

  “Why are you here?”

  He ran his hands back and forth over his thighs. “I’m living in Washington State. Did you know that?”

  “How would I?”

  “Uh, right. Yes. Well, it’s beautiful on the west coast. You have the evergreens, the mountains, the volcanoes, and the ocean. It’s a wonderful place to live.”

  “How nice for you.” Again, the sarcasm rolled.

  He took a deep breath and forged ahead. “I’ve come to take you and Jack back to live with me.”

  I jumped up. “What?”

  “I am your father, and I’ve done some legal homework.” His nervousness had increased enough to give him a slightly shrunken look.

  “Nee!” The Amish word burst from my mouth. “No way. We’re not going with you. And Jack’s not here anyway.” Panic seized me, and I felt dizzy.

  I fell back into the rocker.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not doing this well.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin. “I want you to live with me. I want to get to know you, both of you. I know Jack’s in Ohio staying with a pastor’s family. I know he ran away because he hated living here.”

  “He was homesick was all.”

  “He didn’t want to live with the Amish,” Dad stated frankly.

  “You don’t know that. He was homesick. That’s why he ran.” Dad was right about Jack—but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

  The more I looked at the man in front of me, the more the memories gushed forth. It had been forever since I’d seen him, and he’d gotten grey. Tired. There wasn’t much left of the fun-loving father I used to play with.

  “I want the chance to know my children.”

  “So you swoop in and steal us away from our homes? Just like that?” I narrowed my eyes. “Did you think this would be some happy reunion or something? That I’d dive into your car with glee? Oh, wait. I f
orgot. This is all about you, right? What you want.”

  I was getting ugly.

  A year ago, getting ugly wouldn’t have bothered me. Not in the least. After all, he deserved it. But now, it did bother me. My mind flashed to Zeke. For a quick second, thinking of his still, strong spirit and his warm, handsome face calmed me. But what would he think if he saw me acting like a shrew?

  Would an Amish girl be so vindictive?

  But I’m not Amish.

  “Sally.” Dad cut into my thoughts. “Please give me a chance. I have a nice house. Maybe we could have a trial run.”

  “Uncle Benjamin won’t allow it. Mom wanted us to live here.”

  Dad leaned close. “You and I both know your mother rejected her Amish roots long ago. She would never have wanted you to live here.”

  “I can’t see how you gave her much choice, since you were nowhere around.”

  He grimaced and shifted his weight, backing away from me, pressing himself into the back of the couch. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. But I’m here now. And fortunately, the law is on my side.”

  “We’ll fight it,” I declared, puffing out my chest. But even as I said the words, I knew it wasn’t true. Uncle Benjamin and Aunt Elizabeth wouldn’t fight it. They would never enter a legal battle. Not for me or anyone else.

  Never.

  A look of sadness flickered across Dad’s face. He stood. “I’m sorry, Sally. Truly, I am. I’ve spoken with them. Explained everything. They know I have the legal right to take both of you.”

  Angry tears burned my eyes. “Don’t I get a say? Doesn’t Jack? Just like that, you’re going to rip us from our lives?”

  “Again, I’m sorry. But with time, you’ll see this was best for all of us.”

  I clenched the arms of the rocker and held on. “You can’t make me go.” I spit the words, knowing I was acting like a child.

  “Talk to Benjamin and Elizabeth. They understand,” he said quietly. “I know this is sudden. I tried to work it out otherwise, but I simply couldn’t. I can’t miss any more work days right now. As it is, I’ve used the last of my vacation days coming here.”