The Promised Amish Bride Page 11

  She hadn’t known enough about love. She hadn’t realized that love, real love, was like the rush of a mighty river...a strong, deep current that swept away every doubt. No matter what she did or didn’t do about it, she loved Aaron.

  That love swept away every doubt for her, but what about for Aaron? What she felt didn’t matter in the least if Aaron didn’t feel the same.

  For a moment when they’d touched, when their unguarded gazes had crossed, she’d been sure of what she saw in his eyes. She’d been convinced he loved her, and her heart had sung with the sheer joy of it.

  But the moment had passed. He’d backed away first. She couldn’t deny that or rationalize it. Aaron had retreated. She’d told herself that he’d stopped because he’d spotted Elizabeth watching them.

  But what if she’d been wrong? What if he’d seen the love shining in her eyes and withdrew, embarrassed at the thought that little Sally was in love with him?

  The blood seemed to pound in her head, and for an instant her face burned while her hands turned icy cold. Humiliation swept over her, and all her hope seemed to shrivel away to nothing. If Aaron had seen that she loved him and he didn’t return her feelings, how could she ever face him again?

  Maybe she should be glad that Elizabeth had interrupted them when she did. Maybe that interruption had saved her from still worse embarrassment...the agony of seeing Aaron try to find a way to let her down easy.

  Gathering the threads of her confidence together, Sally straightened, her palms pressing into the quilt beneath her. The truth was that she didn’t know.

  And she didn’t have any choice. She and Aaron couldn’t avoid each other. They were neighbors, united in so many ways. That meant she’d have to hang on to her self-control regardless of what Aaron might feel.

  What would he do? If it had been real, if he’d seen her feelings and returned them, he would speak to her. Naturally he would. And if he didn’t? For a moment her mind was blank. She didn’t have any illusions that Aaron hadn’t seen her feelings—she knew how quick and intuitive he was.

  He’d try to spare her. He’d carry on just as usual, as if nothing had happened. He’d want her to be able to save face.

  She’d require a lot more control than she’d shown so far if that were to happen. She’d best start practicing. So right now she’d get dressed, go downstairs and hope Elizabeth had been distracted from the lecture she’d been so eager to give.

  With a silent prayer for guidance, Sally pulled the dress over her head and smoothed her hair back. She’d make herself presentable, and she’d move forward. She didn’t have the luxury of sitting here feeling sorry for herself.

  Slipping into the kitchen, Sally found Elizabeth standing at the stove, her back turned. When she didn’t immediately spin around and start talking, Sally breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the worst was over.

  With a glance at the clock, Sally pulled plates from the cabinet and began setting the table. Usually this was such a pleasant part of the day—when life was normal, that was. She and Mamm would chatter away about everything and nothing while they got supper on.

  Mamm always loved to hear her stories of what had happened at school with the children that day, and Sally knew she could say anything and name names without fear that folks would get to hear about it.

  She couldn’t do that with Elizabeth. First because Elizabeth didn’t really seem interested in her tales of her scholars. And second, because she didn’t feel absolutely confident that something she said might not be repeated. Elizabeth wouldn’t do that deliberately, but she liked to talk, and she didn’t always stop to think about what was coming out when she did.

  The continued silence from Elizabeth began to feel a little ominous. It wasn’t like her to hold her fire for this long. She must be really perturbed about what she probably saw as Sally’s misbehavior.

  Finally Sally moved over next to her. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing for supper.” Elizabeth shot her a glance. “But you can listen to me instead of running off.”

  So that was it. There was no point in pretending she hadn’t done what she clearly had.

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. But I didn’t want to get into an argument about Aaron.” She had to force her voice to remain level when she said his name.

  “It’s not Aaron I’m worried about.” Elizabeth slapped the wooden spoon she was holding down on the counter. “It’s you. I looked out the window and what did I see? I saw you down on the ground with Aaron’s arms around you.”

  Sally held on to her tongue with an effort. “I already explained what happened. I stepped in a hole and tripped. Naturally Aaron came to see if I was hurt, just like you did.”

  “And what about him having his arms around you, and you looking up at him?”

  “He was trying to help me up. And I was laughing at my own clumsiness, that was all.” That wasn’t all, of course, but she couldn’t tell Elizabeth the rest of it. How everything she thought she knew about herself was changed in that instant their eyes met—no, she couldn’t tell Elizabeth that.

  “What if someone else had seen you?” Elizabeth wasn’t accepting it. “What if the bishop had been passing by and had seen you and Aaron with his arms around you? Aaron’s just an Englischer now, for all that you were friends when you were a child. You can’t get involved with him.”

  “I’m not involved. I’m just being a friend. And if Aaron wants to repent and come back to the Leit, I won’t do anything to make that harder for him.” Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them spill over. “What if everyone acted that way? He’d never want to stay then.”

  Elizabeth’s broad cheeks flushed. “I’m not saying we should be mean to him. I’m saying that you’re an unmarried woman and a teacher besides, and you need to mind your reputation. What would your mamm and daad say if they were here?”

  “They wouldn’t scold me for being kind to an old friend.” Her voice was probably a little too tart. “And they’d give me credit for being grown-up enough to make my own decisions.”

  “Your decisions?” Elizabeth took fire in an instant. “Like throwing over a gut man who wanted to marry you? And taking up with someone who’s a runaway and a rebel and thinks and acts like an Englischer? You should be ashamed to cause folks to talk about you.”

  “You’re the only one who’s talking about me,” she snapped, her control breaking. “You have no business telling me what to do. I’m not your child.”

  In the instant she said the words Sally wanted them back. But that couldn’t be done. Her unruly tongue had led her into hurting Elizabeth. No matter what the provocation was, she ought to know better if she was as grown-up as she’d declared herself to be.

  “I’m sorry.” She rushed into speech. “Elizabeth, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m so sorry.”

  Elizabeth clamped her lips closed, shaking her head. She turned back to the stove, but not before Sally saw the tears spill over on her cheeks.

  * * *

  The autumn air smelled fresh and clear the next morning after a brief rain overnight, and the yellows and oranges of the trees on the ridge seemed to shine. Aaron bent to disconnect the battery that ran the electric fence around the west pasture. As often happened, the wire had become grounded somewhere, so he meant to find it before any of the cows decided to go roaming. Usually some wise old cow could find a spot and lean on it until she’d broken through to some grass she thought greener.

  “There’ll be a small branch down on it somewhere after the rain.” Onkel Zeb walked alongside him as they started checking the fence line.

  “Most likely.” Aaron darted a glance at his uncle. So far no one had asked him what the bishop had said to him, and he’d been grateful. Was Onkel Zeb giving him a chance to talk?

  Not that he wasn’t willing to tell his uncle, but since yesterday he’d been too preoccupied with his thoughts a
bout Sally to concentrate on anything else. Those moments when they’d been so close to each other... Looking into her eyes had been like sinking into a deep blue pool, leaving him warm and weightless and safe.

  Reality had burst in soon enough. Elizabeth had plainly been horrified at the thought of him with her young sister-in-law. Most likely anyone else from the community who saw them would feel the same.

  Face it, they would all know he was too old for Sally, both in years and in experience. His time out in the world had changed him.

  And yet Sally didn’t seem to mind that. She just reached right past the forbidding surface changes and touched his heart. Maybe he could deny what he felt to anyone else, but it was stupid to deny it to himself. He was more than halfway in love with her already.

  He came out of his abstraction to see Onkel Zeb kneeling to pull some weeds away from the wire.

  “Here, I’ll get that.” He knelt quickly, annoyed with himself for not doing his job.

  “I’m not ready for the rocking chair yet,” Zeb said, his tone mild, but he sat back on his heels and made room for Aaron to pull the weeds. But even as he spoke, he reached out to grab the fence post to pull himself up to standing. “Though I won’t say a helping hand isn’t wilkom now and then.”

  Aaron grinned at him. “Are you trying to make me feel useful?”

  “I don’t need to try. It’s a fact,” Zeb said bluntly. “With Daniel as busy as he is with his carpentry business and the young ones too little to be much help, we need another man around here.” He paused as if to let that sink in.

  “I’m not sure...” Aaron began, thinking he wasn’t that man.

  Onkel Zeb swept on. “There’s plenty of folks around who’d be interested in a good horse trainer, too, with horses getting so popular among the Englisch. You put up a couple of signs in some stores, and you’d get all the business you can handle.”

  He didn’t know if that was true, but he appreciated Onkel Zeb’s effort to make him feel there was a place for him here. “Have you been talking to the bishop, by chance?”

  Zeb shook his head. “No, why? Is that what he told you?”

  “Not exactly.” He hesitated, but he guessed it might as well come out. “He asked me to agree to live by the Ordnung for a month before I made a decision about the future.”

  The future...and Sally’s face forming in his mind, smiling at him.

  “Bishop Tom is a wise man. You’re taking his advice, ain’t so?”

  “I guess I am. But I don’t know how it will turn out.” Aaron hurried to add that, afraid his uncle would read too much into his cooperation. He wasn’t even sure if he could do it in the long run.

  But if he could, it was so tempting to think he could have a future here.

  Onkel Zeb straightened, shielding his eyes as he glanced toward the lane. “There’s Ben Stoltzfus coming over.” He waved, catching Ben’s eye, and Ben left the lane and crossed the field toward them.

  “I guess he’s looking for us.” Aaron stood waiting. And wondering. Was it a coincidence that Ben showed up apparently wanting to talk the day after his Elizabeth had seen Aaron and Sally touching? He didn’t think so.

  Ben reached them. “Zeb. Aaron. A fine day, ain’t so?”

  “It is that,” Zeb replied. “Are you needing something, Ben?”

  Ben looked from Aaron to Zeb and back again, and embarrassment made his already ruddy face a bright red. “Chust a word or two with Aaron, if he can spare the time.”

  Aaron stiffened. So it was like he’d figured. “I need to walk round the fence line. Come along, if you want.”

  There was an awkward silence. Finally Zeb seemed to get the idea. “If you’ve got Ben helping you, I guess you don’t need me, yah? I’ll go see if there’s coffee hot on the stove.”

  “That’s fine. Save some coffee for me.”

  Waiting until he was sure Onkel Zeb was out of earshot, Aaron pulled a leafy twig off the wire. When he looked up Ben was still standing there, looking like a man who’d rather be anywhere else. Some of Aaron’s irritation ebbed.

  “Let me guess. Elizabeth wants you to talk to me about Sally.”

  Ben stared at him for a moment, and then a self-conscious grin spread across his face. “You know women. If they don’t have something to worry about, they invent something. I’m that sorry about this.”

  Aaron shrugged. “No need to worry. I understand. Elizabeth saw me helping Sally up when she fell. Sounds as if she got the wrong idea.”

  “That’s it.” Ben sounded relieved. “Sally told her there was nothing to it, but Elizabeth gets nervous. She feels like we’re responsible for Sally while the folks are away.”

  So Sally said there was nothing to it, did she? He was taken aback for a moment. He knew what he’d felt. Surely he didn’t imagine what he’d seen in Sally’s face. But he ought to be relieved if she didn’t make anything of it.

  “There’s no need to worry about Sally, not where I’m concerned.” He walked a few more feet along the fence and pulled out the small branch that had gotten entangled with the wire with one end touching the ground. That was probably the source of the trouble. It didn’t take much to cause a problem, did it?

  “Well, that’s what I thought. I mean, Sally’s just a kid.”

  Aaron looked at him, his eyebrows lifting. “I don’t think your little sister is a kid anymore. She’s been kind to me since I got back, and I appreciate it.”

  “Yah, well, Sally has a kind heart.” Ben scuffed at a clod of dirt. “I guess it is hard for you, coming back to all this quiet after the life you’ve had out there.”

  What kind of life was Ben imagining? Probably nothing close to the truth.

  “It wasn’t all that different. Taking care of the horses, mucking out stalls...nothing exciting about that.”

  Ben didn’t respond. He’d always been kind of slow of speech, but right now he looked like he was at a complete loss. Aaron sighed. He couldn’t expect Ben to understand. All he could do was reassure him.

  “Look, the fact is I’m not going to court Sally or anyone else unless and until I make up my mind to stay. So tell Elizabeth she can stop worrying.”

  The words had come out with an edge, but he couldn’t help that. Okay, so Ben was embarrassed, but he’d started it. He couldn’t expect Aaron to like having someone else tell him what he ought to do or feel.

  Since Ben still seemed bereft of words, Aaron turned away. “If that’s all, I need to finish with the fence and get the battery back on again.”

  “Yah, um, denke.” Ben was back to shuffling his feet again. “Denke.”

  Aaron didn’t bother watching him walk away. He was too busy trying to get himself back under control. Okay, it wasn’t entirely Ben’s fault. He understood that Elizabeth had done most of the pushing. But that didn’t mean he had to like having other people interfering in his life. In contrast with this, the total disinterest of most of the people he’d met in the Englisch world looked pretty good to him right now.

  * * *

  As soon as Sally got home, she saw that Aaron had Star hitched up to the buggy already. He hadn’t waited for her.

  Sally rushed into the house, dropped her books and hurried back out again. But no sooner had she stepped off the porch than her brother appeared, holding out a hand to stop her. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  Impatient, she shook her head. “I’m late to work with Star. We’ll talk later.”

  Ben clasped her sleeve. “Wait. I...I have to tell you something.”

  She read her brother with an experienced glance. Ben was embarrassed, and judging by the way he was hanging his head, he’d done something he wished he hadn’t. Something to do with her, clearly.

  “Okay. What did you do?”

  His eyes flickered toward her and then away. “You’re going to be mad, but...I talked to Aaron abo
ut you.” He held up his hand before she could speak. “I know, I know. You’re mad. I guess I shouldn’t have, but Elizabeth was so worried—” He stopped abruptly, as if he hadn’t intended to say that.

  Elizabeth was worried. Elizabeth was also far too fond of interfering in other people’s business. But given the hurtful thing she’d said to Elizabeth, she was just as guilty.

  She said a quick prayer for calm. “There’s no reason for either of you to be worried. I’m all grown-up now, Ben. I know it’s hard to believe, but I don’t need you or Elizabeth to protect me.”

  “Yah, yah, but it’s not so easy for me.” He tried the effect of a smile, but she didn’t really feel like smiling back. “You’ve been my little sister for a long time.”

  “That doesn’t mean you ought to embarrass me that way. Or Aaron. What must he have thought?”

  Ben actually looked a little relieved by her scolding words. “Aaron’s okay. He didn’t get mad. He just said there wasn’t anything going on. Said he wasn’t courting anybody—he doesn’t even know yet if he’s staying. So you see, it’s all right.”

  It wasn’t all right, but she couldn’t see any point to telling Ben so. He’d meant well, she supposed.

  “Yah, okay,” she murmured, turning away.

  But it wasn’t all right. Her cheeks were flushed, and her heart was pummeled by a whole mix of emotions—embarrassment, humiliation and disappointment. No, disappointment wasn’t a strong enough word. All her hope had been dashed to pieces by a few words.

  So there was nothing going on between them, was there? She knew what she’d seen in his face, but that didn’t matter, not if he chose to ignore it. So it was over before it began, and now she had to face Aaron and pretend she wasn’t hurt.

  Sally was dreading finding the words to say to Aaron, but he saved her the trouble, pulling Star to a halt and hurrying into speech.

  “Star’s behaving himself with the buggy. He doesn’t seem to object to the harness and blinders at all. You come up and give it a try.”