“What do you care about how I’m kissed?” Her eyes sparkled with something close to anger.
“I just do.”
Sadie pushed open the door and disappeared outside. The door swung shut with a clatter.
Kissing her was a mistake, and he was sure he’d feel that acutely later, but right now, he could feel her skin on his hands, her lips against his, her heart beating so close to his own . . .
Forget the break. He needed to keep working and try to purge her out of his system. Sadie had never been meant for him, but if she married another man who didn’t love her well enough, he’d do something stupid that would get him shunned, too.
Sadie had said she wanted nothing from him. Well, he did want something from her—for her to see exactly how exquisite she really was.
Chapter Sixteen
Elijah didn’t sleep well that night, his mind going back to that kiss in the barn. He knew better . . . and the regret he knew he’d experience came over him in a flood. Sadie was fragile right now, and she didn’t need him jerking her around emotionally. He wasn’t staying, and her life was entrenched in this Amish community. What did he hope to achieve by giving in to his feelings for her?
* * *
The next afternoon, the weather seemed to dog Elijah’s mood, as did the bishop, who insisted on coming with him to check the herd when he brought hay out to the feeders in the field. Dark rain clouds loomed a few miles off, a brisk, chill wind driving the broiling storm ever closer. Cloud cover scudded in, blocking out the sun momentarily as the clouds sailed by. Hopefully they’d get back to the barn before the worst of the storm, but there was no way they’d outrun it.
Today, Sadie had been distant. She served him breakfast and said hardly a word to him besides what was absolutely necessary, which might explain her father’s decision to go with him. Or maybe that was just Elijah’s conscience bothering him, watching for someone to intervene again. He’d done this before when they were young—fallen headlong in love with her, even though he had no business doing so. And look what became of that!
If he were to face her in the barn again, though, he couldn’t say that he’d do any differently. In some part of his heart, she was still his—as illogical and wrong as that was. He’d told himself that he wanted better for her than Mervin, but he’d realized something as he tossed and turned last night: he’d told her to find a man who could kiss her breathless, but what he really wanted was to be that man.
Except she wasn’t his to kiss. He wasn’t her husband, or even a man who could court her. He was officially an outsider, and playing with emotions this strong was foolhardy. Sadie might have kissed him back, but she’d made her feelings about him clear today. On this side of that kiss, he felt foolish. Her silence was rejection enough.
“We need that rain,” the bishop said from his seat on the front bench of the hay wagon beside Elijah. “Just to cool it off a bit.”
“Yah,” Elijah agreed, and a damp breeze swept toward them, fraught with the scent of earth and lightning.
Elijah glanced toward the bishop. The lines around his mouth had deepened over the course of the day, and his face was now a grayish hue.
“I’m fine,” the bishop said, as if reading his mind. “I’ll get one of my sons to take over soon enough. But they each already have farms of their own, so taking over this one, too, wouldn’t be easy.”
The fact that his sons were hesitant to take over the family farm was suspicious in itself. Being busy wasn’t reason enough, and Elijah suspected that the Graber family had more hard feelings swirling within its depths than he’d been able to see, even with his close connections. The Amish life was all about family, but as anyone knew, family wasn’t only about togetherness and belonging. There were tensions, jealousies, rivalries, and bitter divides. Ideals didn’t change reality, even in Morinville.
Overhead, thunder rumbled, and the last ray of sunlight was blocked out by the gathering clouds. A copse of trees whipped and bent under the rising wind. Elijah turned around, and he could see a veil of mist moving toward them across the hills, creeping up from behind.
“Sadie spoke to me about you this morning,” the bishop added.
Elijah’s heart skipped a beat. Had she told her father about what had happened in the barn? The bishop wouldn’t look too kindly on a man—any man—taking liberties with his daughter. Although she had kissed him back—Elijah had that.
“What did she say?” he asked hesitantly.
“She has a friend who has expressed interest in you.” The bishop rubbed at his chest again, then kneaded at his upper arm. “Hadassah Yoder.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t want to give any response that would encourage this. He wasn’t sticking around, and, even if he were, he wasn’t interested in Hadassah Yoder. His heart was still in a snarl over Sadie.
“She’s a fine girl, a good cook, and an excellent seamstress,” the bishop went on. “She’s also in danger of becoming an old maid.”
That was the only kind of woman who’d risk her happiness on him right about now, he realized bitterly.
“And Sadie suggested I take Hadassah home from singing, I take it?” Elijah asked, trying to mask the resentment in his tone. It was her way of getting rid of him—turning him on to another woman. At least he wasn’t toying with her emotions.
“If not Hadassah, it might be worth taking a look at the single girls, Elijah. You could be baptized any time now, and start courting.”
Sadie hadn’t told her father Elijah’s plans to leave, apparently.
“You should probably focus on your daughter’s marriage options,” Elijah grunted.
“Elijah, I have children older than you are, so I have seen more than you have,” the bishop said quietly. “And the secret to creating a home begins and ends with a woman. It’s a common experience for a young man to feel adrift—even if they’ve never left our people. But once they find a wife, it all settles down.”
“Really.” Elijah eyed the ever-darkening clouds. His disquiet wouldn’t be fixed by Hadassah Yoder.
“I’ve seen it many times,” he replied. “Every man thinks his experience is isolated, but it isn’t. Many, many have walked this path before you. Trust me, Elijah. A wife is the key.”
Ever matchmaking. Elijah wondered what the bishop would think if he knew that Elijah’s feelings for his daughter hadn’t changed. Very likely, this fatherly encouragement would disappear. The bishop leaned forward, kneading at his chest with the heel of one hand.
“Are you alright?” Elijah asked.
“It’s just tight—” The older man grimaced. “It’s time for my pill, but I left it in the house.”
Chest pain was more than a missed pill, and Elijah’s stomach dropped. He’d taken a first aid course with his job in the city, but he was drawing a blank on what he was supposed to do. Call 911—but the nearest phone was . . . was it in town?
“Hya! Keep on!” Elijah urged the horses, but they’d been pulling that wagon loaded down with bales of hay all afternoon, and they were hot and tired. Then, as if by providence, a crack of lightning lit up the sky, and the horses sped up to a trot of their own accord.
“It’s not too bad.... Don’t mention this to my daughter. Between Sadie and her mother, I can’t take three steps without being coddled,” the bishop said after a moment.
Coddled—he shouldn’t have been out here! He was a sick man, and he belonged at home. Someone else should be running this farm—a son, a friend, a hired manager. But the bishop wouldn’t let go of the reins on anything, least of all his land.
An image of Sadie rose in his mind—Sadie with her lips parted and her cheeks flushed as his mouth covered hers . . . an image he’d been trying to banish all day. The bishop would never let go of the reins when it came to his daughter, either. There was another flash of lightning, and the first fat drops of rain splattered to the ground.
A gust of wind blew rain into his face, and Elijah turned his head to the side, pulling his hat down. A
nd it was then that he saw the bishop’s face twisted in a grimace of pain.
“Bishop!” He put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “What’s happening?”
“I—” the bishop gasped. “My chest . . .”
His breath came in ragged gasps, and he didn’t even lift his hand to shield his face from the wind-driven rain.
“Hold on,” Elijah said, snapping the reins again. “We’re almost at the barn. Just hold on—”
The barn loomed ever closer, rain bouncing off the roof in a halo of mist. The sky suddenly opened up and rain poured down like a sheet. A wheel hit a bump and the bishop pitched to the side. Elijah barely managed to catch him by a handful of his shirt to keep him from toppling out of his seat and landing underneath a grinding wheel.
“Stay with me, sir,” Elijah commanded. “We’re almost there.”
The bishop moaned in response, and, as the wagon came up next to the barn, Elijah snapped the reins and shouted for the horses to keep moving. They were used to stopping here, especially if there was rain, and the horses balked at first, but Elijah shouted again. The horses plodded on through the downpour, clattering over a pothole that jarred the bishop so hard he almost went over the side again. They carried on around the side of the barn toward the gravel road that led down to the house.
As long as the bishop was still breathing and conscious, they had time.
* * *
“Mamm! Sadie!” Rosmanda shouted from the kitchen, and Sadie looked up from the folded laundry she was putting away in her bedroom. She darted a look over at Sammie, who stirred in his sleep but didn’t wake. Rain pattered against the window pane in a soothing rhythm.
Sadie hurried out of the bedroom and ran down the stairs to see her sister holding open the side door, and Elijah half carrying her daet into the house. Her father’s hat was gone, and his gray hair was plastered against his head. Both men were drenched, and their shirts clung to their bodies. Elijah’s face was nearly as pale as her father’s.
“What’s happened?” Sadie gasped. “Daet, are you hurt?”
“He’s been clutching his chest,” Elijah said. “Lots of pain. He needs an ambulance.”
“Benjamin!” Mamm cried, coming up behind Sadie, and then she straightened. “Get your father comfortable. I’m going to use the telephone at the neighbors’.”
Mamm didn’t even bother grabbing an umbrella; she just marched out into the deluge and headed straight for the wagon that Elijah had vacated. By the time she lifted her skirt and hoisted herself up onto the seat, her dress was soaked through and clung to her legs. She gave a shrill whistle and snapped the reins.
Sadie and Rosmanda brought their father into the living room where he lay down on the couch, and he rubbed at his chest, breathing shallowly.
“Daet?” Rosmanda wailed, her voice going higher. “Daet! What do we do?”
“Go get some towels,” Sadie ordered, as much to get her sister out of the room as to get her father dry. Rosmanda’s hands were shaking, but she left the room as ordered.
“You might want to get dry, too,” Sadie said, glancing at Elijah, who stood there immobile, dripping onto the floor.
“I’m fine,” he muttered. “If you need to lift him again, you’re going to need me.”
She had to agree—they would. Tears welled upside of her, and she sucked in a wavering breath.
“Daet, how badly does it hurt?” Sadie asked, leaning over her father.
“Pills . . .” he murmured.
“What?” Sadie looked up at Elijah.
“He said he missed his pills,” Elijah said. “I don’t know where they are, though.”
Sadie did, and she dashed upstairs to fetch them. They were in the nightstand on her father’s side of her parents’ bed. Rosmanda met Sadie on the stairs, her arms filled with folded towels, and they came back down together. Sadie got a glass of water, and after Daet swallowed a pill, Rosmanda started wrapping him in towels.
“No—” Daet pushed the towels off. “I can’t breathe . . .”
Rosmanda planted herself next to their father, and Sadie moved toward the door where Elijah stood, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression as stormy as the weather outside.
“He’ll be okay,” Elijah said quietly, and she realized in a grateful rush that that was exactly what she needed to hear.
“What happened?” she asked, glancing up at him.
“He encouraged me to take Hadassah home from singing and then clutched his chest,” Elijah said wryly. “A nice combination.”
Sadie looked out the broad window, but she couldn’t see much past the driving rain. The ambulance would take a few minutes.
“You shouldn’t have let him come with you today,” Sadie said.
“Yah?” Elijah shot her an annoyed look. “And how was I supposed to stop him?”
They were scared and irritable, and arguing about who should have stopped her daet from checking on his own herd of cattle was a waste of both time and breath.
“I don’t know,” she conceded, and she shifted her weight toward him without even thinking and felt her arm press up against his muscular torso. She was about to move away again when she felt his hand press gently into the small of her back, out of view of her sister, who was bent over Daet, and Elijah held her in place with the comfort of his touch.
She closed her eyes, a surge of longing, regret, and anxiety flooding through her body. Whenever times were hardest lately—when she wasn’t thinking straight—she found herself gravitating toward this man, looking for comfort, strength . . . as if he could give her anything for the long term!
But Elijah was also here. And sometimes she got so tired of being the strong one. Even with Mervin, she’d had to be the woman who stood on her own two feet, because while he’d been an honorable husband, he certainly hadn’t been offering unspoken support like this.... She couldn’t get used to this. It would only make their inevitable good-bye harder.
In the distance, the wail of an ambulance siren pierced through the rattle of rain and Sadie straightened, pulling away from Elijah’s warm touch. From the window, Sadie could see Mamm’s wagon turn back into the drive, and she pulled the horses up short, then dismounted from the wagon and headed back toward the road. Rural addresses could be difficult for emergency personnel to locate, and since they didn’t have a phone to clarify their whereabouts, they relied upon more direct means.
“The ambulance is almost here, Daet,” Sadie said, crossing the room and moving closer to the window. Her back was cold where Elijah’s touch had been. It felt like an eternity, but was probably only a couple of minutes before the ambulance turned into the drive and two EMTs hopped out of the back of the vehicle. Mamm let them in the side door, and they tramped into the house. The next few minutes were a blur. The EMTs, a man and a woman, worked quickly. They inserted an IV into Daet’s arm before loading him onto a stretcher and swiftly wheeled him back toward the door. Sadie and her sister followed, and they watched as the EMTs lifted Daet into the back of the ambulance and Mamm climbed up with him, clutching his free hand.
“I’ll call the neighbor when there’s news,” Mamm called over her shoulder, and then the doors slammed shut. The siren came on and the ambulance wheels crunched over the gravel as it pulled down the drive.
Sadie stood on the grass looking in the direction the ambulance had disappeared, feeling like she was floating inside of her own body. The rain pelted down on her, soaking into her dress and dripping down her limbs. Tears filled her chest, but they did not fall. Her mind was spinning. They’d known Daet was sick, but they’d never expected this. He was taking it easy. He was taking his pills . . . one missed pill shouldn’t result in this, should it? The medication was supposed to help! Daet was a healthy man who led an active life. All the Amish men were.
Elijah moved in beside her, and his hand brushed hers ever so gently.
“What do we do now?” Rosmanda asked from inside the open door, and Sadie startled, then turned. Ha
d her sister seen that? She stepped away from Elijah.
“We do the chores,” Sadie decided. “You take care of the house, and I’ll go milk the cow. But first, check on Sammie for me. He’s probably woken up from all the noise.”
“I can’t do everything in here,” Rosmanda complained.
“I thought you said you were ready for a home of your own,” Sadie said woodenly. “Prove me wrong, Rosie.”
Sadie didn’t have the energy to talk her sister into the work. Rosmanda was sixteen, had successfully broken up a couple so that she could have the man, and she balked at a little housework? Maybe it was time she faced the reality of being a wife.
Sadie shielded her eyes from the rain and looked over at Elijah. There was no point in getting dry now, anyway. Elijah fell into place beside her as she trudged toward the barn.
“I don’t need help,” Sadie said. The rain was starting to let up now, and Sadie shivered as a cool wind hit her wet skin.
“Didn’t say you did,” Elijah replied. “But I’m pretty sure your father just had a heart attack in front of me. Ever occur to you that I might want the company?”
“Oh . . .” She hadn’t thought of the shock he’d just had, and she shot him an apologetic smile. He was just as wet as she was, and the work needed to be finished tonight. But the thought of going into that barn with Elijah Fisher again was still unnerving. Her body responded to him too readily, and he was the only man who’d ever been able to do that to her.
She hadn’t been kissed like that in her marriage. Not once. Elijah had awoken her like he had when she was a teenager. She’d always filed that experience away as youthful passion, impossible to repeat in her adult years, but Elijah had proven her wrong, and that left her off balance. She didn’t have the luxury of playing that game—she was a widow and a mother, and that kind of dalliance could ruin her reputation for life . . . all for a few heart-pounding kisses.
“Is it . . . wise?” she asked, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, because she was remembering the feeling of his tight muscles under her fingertips as his lips had come down onto hers. She was remembering how deftly he’d pulled her against his body, and how hungrily she’d longed for more than even that . . .
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