The Amish Wedding Promise

by Laura V. Hilton

  Her eyes slid toward her sister. He followed her gaze. What was her name again? Patience? From the brief glance he took, she had special needs. Her arms were still around the dog’s neck, and it seemed as if Slush grinned at him.

  He couldn’t help but grin back, happy the dog was back with his people.

  “I’m not sure if anyone can help at this point, if Slush isn’t helping, but I’ll try.” Gracie relinquished the chain saw. “Danki.”

  “So twelve brothers, huh?” he asked as she started to walk away.

  She stumbled to a stop, turned, and frowned at him. “How do you know?”

  His face heated. “I might have asked if Seth Lantz had any unmarried daughters.”

  Her eyes narrowed and a shadow filled them. “And…?”

  And he suddenly wanted to find out the reason for the shadow so he could make it go away. “The man I asked said, ‘Twelve sons. Ain’t it a wonder?’ He didn’t mention you. Or Patience.” He gestured toward the buggy.

  Gracie frowned. Sighed. “Patience is special. She’ll never marry. And today’s my wedding day.”

  The words fell like a boulder, knocking the breath out of him.

  She turned and trod away, leaving him staring after her. Speechless.

  Questions formed. Died.

  The one girl who had ever caught his attention this way and she was married?

  Wait. No. Something didn’t fit.

  He yanked the cord and the chain saw rumbled to life.

  Some problems were easier to take care of than others. And right now a downed full-grown tree was a smaller problem than figuring out why Gracie’s comments didn’t fit.

  Except, she didn’t say she was married. She introduced herself as Lantz. She said it was her wedding day, yet she wasn’t at the wedding.

  The tornado cancelled the festivities.

  Her groom wasn’t there. Here. With her.

  Zeke turned his head enough to watch Gracie climb into the buggy next to the still-smiling dog and Patience.

  Her groom wasn’t there, but Zeke was.

  It might’ve been his imagination, but it seemed Slush’s grin widened and the dog winked.

  Zeke winked back.

  Chapter 3

  Grace cuddled next to Slush’s side and stretched her arm across the seat to touch Patience’s shoulder. She gently rubbed it while trying to think of comforting things to say that might encourage her sister to stop crying. At least the wails had died down to sniffles. Probably a headache and stuffy nose, too, if Patience was anything like Grace.

  Their rescuer was helpful. And pleasant to look at. A firm jaw, well-shaped lips, vivid blue eyes that made her heart pound into overdrive, and wide shoulders that appeared strong enough to bear her burdens. And the way his muscles flexed, stretching the pale-blue fabric of his shirt taut— Oh my.

  She probably shouldn’t gawk at the view, but wow. Gott sure did nice work when He created him. Even his name, Zeke, seemed exciting.

  Not that it mattered. She wasn’t available—unless Timothy had bolted, and she refused to believe that was true. But maybe she could fix Zeke up with one of her friends while he was here.

  On the other hand, a man like that probably had a serious girlfriend back wherever he came from. And he wouldn’t have time to date here, even if he was available. He was here for relief work. To help Daed and the community clean up and rebuild. To clear the roads and…and to find missing people.

  She gulped. She shouldn’t ogle the man. Even if he was super nice looking.

  He turned off the chain saw and faced her. “I forgot to ask: Do you want the logs saved for firewood? I could bring your wagon back to collect it.”

  That’d be lovely. Except, they didn’t have a wagon anymore.

  Something about her expression must’ve cued him. He frowned. “How substantial is your loss?”

  She couldn’t begin to guess. And she didn’t want to tick them off when Patience was listening. Especially since she’d finally begun to calm. Grace glanced pointedly at her sister, then shrugged.

  Zeke’s gaze slid from her to Patience and back. He nodded and yanked the chain again, returning his attention to the tree while Grace’s attention remained fixed on him.

  “Slush needs bath,” Patience whispered.

  Grace nodded. “We’ll give him one when we get home.” Or at least Patience could. Mamm would probably need Grace’s help with supper preparations if this man was staying with them.

  “He handsome. What his name?” Patience shifted to look at Grace over Slush’s head.

  “Zeke.” His name came out on a breathy sigh. Grace’s face heated. But Patience didn’t seem to notice.

  Zeke hefted a log and tossed it into the woods. About fifteen minutes later, the road was cleared enough for her to go around the fallen tree. He turned off the saw and loaded it into the back of the buggy.

  Grace twisted. “Do you want a sandwich?”

  “Sounds good.” He opened the picnic basket. “Wow, there’s a lot in here.”

  “They wedding sandwiches and cookies,” Patience volunteered.

  Zeke nodded, but his gaze shifted to Grace.

  Something she couldn’t identify flashed in his eyes. Her breath caught, and for a moment the world disappeared. Then his lips flexed and his gaze filled with something…pity? Or was it compassion?

  He lifted the straw hat off his head, revealing dark-brown—or maybe even black—hair. It was short, as if he’d recently had a haircut.

  And that settled it. The man was more than handsome. He was gorgeous. Swoonworthy, her Englisch friends would say. Or maybe they’d call him eye candy.

  Grace was inclined to agree.

  He swiped at sweat beading on his forehead, then replaced his hat before climbing into the back seat of the buggy. He leaned forward. “Where to next?”

  Grace gulped. “To check on my groom.” The words were raw, ripping open wounds that hurt.

  Zeke leaned back. “Why isn’t he checking on you, Gracie Lantz?”

  Because she wasn’t worth the effort.

  She tried to swallow the stubborn lump in her throat as she picked up the reins.

  And even though it hurt, it seemed that was the hard, brutal truth.

  * * *

  Zeke wished he could see Gracie’s expression. Judging by the way her back stiffened and her chin rose a couple of notches, he’d hit a nerve. Not intended. But if the groom wasn’t checking on his bride the day after a bad tornado—not to mention their wedding day—something was very, very wrong. If the groom was alive, he should’ve been fording rivers and climbing mountains—not that either was necessary in the well-bridged plains of Illinois—at the very least, chainsawing his way down the road to make sure the lovely Gracie Lantz was okay. To offer comfort if needed. And to provide additional help for the family.

  And since the groom hadn’t come, then…well.

  Zeke sighed. Worst-case scenario, the groom was no more.

  In which case, maybe it’d be best if Gracie didn’t continue her mission to check on him.

  On the other hand, the worst-case scenario had better be the case, because there was no wrath greater than a scorned woman’s. Maybe that wasn’t exactly how the saying went, but it was close enough.

  At least Zeke was there to offer comfort, assistance, friendship, a shoulder to cry on, or whatever else was needed.

  The “Twelve sons. Ain’t it a wonder?” comment suddenly made sense.

  If he—or anyone—hurt Gracie intentionally, he’d be staring at not one, but twelve business ends of pitchforks.

  Best keep their relationship, such as it was, to assistance only.

  Zeke shook his head and turned his attention to Patience, who still snuggled Slush. “Is Slush your dog?”

  The girl’s almond-shaped eyes turned to him. “She family’s. We’ve cats, too.” Her words were thick, slurred. Definitely a special child. Tween. Maybe early teens.

  Gracie guided the horse and buggy
around the tree. The road seemed mostly clear ahead. Except for a tree half across the road from the other direction. And a pile of some sort of rubble.

  “Cats. How many?” He could go with that. He looked back at Patience.

  A branch from a low-hanging tree brushed its leafiness against his head, dislodging his hat. He grabbed for it. Too bad he hadn’t thought to look up for hidden dangers.

  “You cute.” Patience giggled. “You think, Gracie?”

  Gracie turned her head and glanced at her sister. “The heart is what matters, Patience. You know that.”

  Jah, true, but he would’ve liked to know what she thought.

  Not that it mattered.

  Patience turned to look at him. “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: Who can know it?”

  Zeke was impressed. His special cousin could spout off Bible verses like that, too.

  He forced a grin. Why couldn’t she recall a more pleasant verse? Maybe one about how Gott looks at the heart and not the outward appearance?

  But then, he’d fall short there, too, because Gott would know why Zeke had to prove himself in so many different ways. And he’d be judged.

  And fail.

  Because…

  Zeke shook his head as he pushed the thought away. He forced his attention back to Patience. “My family has three cats. They live in the barn. Mice catchers. We have a dog, too. He’s a mixed breed. Someone dumped him and we took him in.”

  Patience twisted in the seat and beamed at him as if he were some sort of hero. “You good man.”

  At least that’s what he heard. Her voice was thick from crying and hard to understand.

  He’d go with it. “Danki.”

  “I’m not sure how many cats we had,” Gracie said. “They adopted us. Most were wild and wouldn’t let us near. But there were two that allowed us to hold them.”

  Had. Were. Past tense. Zeke’s brow furrowed. “How much damage did you have?” he asked again.

  Gracie glanced at Patience and shook her head.

  “Our barn gone. And all the church benches.” Patience beamed at him as if it were a good thing.

  Okay…

  Zeke studied the firm set of Gracie’s shoulders. Her family had so much damage and she was out delivering sandwiches and cookies and checking on her groom? A man who should’ve been checking on her?

  Respect flowed through him.

  * * *

  Finally, Grace angled the buggy into Timothy’s driveway. She stared around at the seemingly untouched barn and house, the buggies parked outside the barn, the horses in the pasture.

  Jon was right.

  It both comforted her and horrified her at the same time.

  He was safe. His family and home were fine.

  And no one cared enough for her to check on her family.

  Or to show up for the wedding-that-didn’t-happen.

  But in their defense, maybe they heard that her family’s barn had been lost and didn’t want to embarrass Daed by making him explain that under the circumstances, the wedding would be postponed.

  The Amish were sensible, forthright, and obvious. No point in pretending something that wasn’t. Well, at least in some cases. In others, they were master pretenders.

  She straightened her back and parked.

  She’d pretend that being ignored or forgotten didn’t hurt.

  Something brushed her shoulder, and she turned in time to see Zeke pulling his hand away. Had he intended to touch her in comfort but changed his mind? It would be improper for him to touch her. Physical displays were discouraged. Among anyone.

  And yet, deep in her heart, she wished for a bit of physical comfort like she’d offered Patience earlier. Just the idea that he’d thought to offer comfort soothed her and helped her move out of the buggy.

  The door to the house opened as Grace climbed out.

  Timothy’s mamm rushed toward her, arms outstretched. “You came! Isn’t it horrible?”

  Chapter 4

  Zeke shifted on the uncomfortable seat as the heavyset woman dressed in black engulfed Gracie into a smothering hug. It appeared as if Gracie’s nose was buried in the woman’s neck as she moaned, “Horrible, horrible, horrible,” over and over.

  Worse, Patience began to cry again—howl, really—when she stared at the woman suffocating Gracie.

  Slush’s grin faded, and he gave Zeke a canineworthy glare, which communicated, “Fix this!”

  Uh, sure. But how? And what happened that was so horrible?

  He reached forward and awkwardly patted Patience’s shoulder. “There, there.”

  It worked about as well as he expected—not at all.

  Slush gave him a disgusted look, nosed his hand away, and burrowed against Patience’s side.

  Not that it worked any better. Except Patience hugged Slush again.

  Zeke glanced around at the long rectangular chicken haus, wrinkled his nose at the stench, and then turned his attention to the two women beside the buggy.

  Gracie pushed away. “What exactly happened, Lavina?”

  “Timothy and two of his buddies went out buggy racing last nacht. Last hurrah before he had to settle down, you know.”

  Zeke winced. Ouch. But then he, Eli, and Kiah might’ve done the same.

  “None of them came home. I guess they got caught in the tornado. His buggy was found in the middle of the bishop’s living room, but there was no sign of Timmy.”

  How on earth? Zeke’s mouth dropped open.

  “Except his pants. No suspenders, no shirt, just his pants. I had them marked with a T, you know.”

  Gracie’s face flared red, but she shook her head. “I didn’t know.”

  Lavina ignored her. “The bishop lost his roof, the horse made her way home, and we found her in front of the barn this morning, but there’s no sign of Timmy. Or his friends.”

  Gracie paled, but other than pulling Lavina into her arms again, she didn’t make a sound. At least none that Zeke heard over Patience’s wailing.

  But this “mission” had turned from assist to search and rescue, to probably recovery.

  Somehow Zeke would need to get word to someone in charge so the other members of his group knew.

  Maybe the Amish guy at the school…

  But he could hardly call the school and ask for a man that way. Too bad he hadn’t paid close enough attention to catch his name.

  Probably Zeke’s new roommate had. Vernon Graber played by the rules, got straight As when they were in school, and even now had the respect of all the church leaders in Shipshewana. And he and Zeke barely tolerated each other. They probably placed him with Zeke to make sure Zeke stayed on the straight and narrow.

  Something that wouldn’t happen if he were rooming with Kiah. They’d be too busy having fun, goofing off, and maybe racing a few buggies of their own.

  Because all work and no play made Vernon a dull boy. Dull man. Whatever. One who was to be married in three weeks, which was more than Zeke could say for himself. Unfortunately, he was to marry a woman Zeke used to court before Vernon swept in.

  But then again, he hadn’t yet met the woman who made him want to give up his sometimes immature ways and start acting his age.

  His gaze landed on Gracie. Lingered.

  Even if she were no longer taken, a long-distance relationship would be tough. Of course, the usual confines of the courtship ritual were frustrating, too. But for a woman like Gracie, he’d consider taking his chances with long-distance dating. Maybe he’d even uproot himself and move nearer.

  The thought surprised him. Even more surprisingly, it felt right. But then he shook his head to clear his thoughts. She’d just received horrible news about her groom.

  No point wasting his time thinking this way.

  He pulled out his cell phone and uploaded his list of contacts. Did he have any of the Mennonite missionaries listed from previous trips? If he did, he’d let them know about the change of status.

  Of cours
e, he couldn’t find a single one of them listed. He’d have to get their numbers from Vernon. If he carried a cell phone. And that was a big if. They were allowed, but not all Amish carried them.

  How many times had Daed misquoted the verse in 1 Corinthians and told Zeke to put away childish things and become a man? And keeping contact information current would be an adult thing. Letting things slide would definitely not be.

  Zeke blew out a puff of air. Slush turned to look at him, his head tilted as if in question. It was time to be the man. He needed to be the hero here and help Gracie find out what happened to her groom. To reunite the young lovers. Then turn and walk away.

  The thought hurt.

  But it was the right thing to do.

  * * *

  The good news was that Grace hadn’t been jilted on her wedding day. The bad news was she might not have a groom. It was an out-and-out miracle the horse survived being picked up by a tornado. She wouldn’t expect two miracles from the same twister. Besides, how on earth would a force of nature remove a man’s pants?

  Her face heated again. The very thought of it.

  And for that matter, what had possessed Timothy to go buggy racing on the eve of his wedding?

  Grace’s chest hurt. Her eyes stung. And she didn’t know what to say to Lavina. How did one find words of comfort for this? The only suitable refrain was the one Lavina had returned to uttering, over and over and over. “Horrible, horrible, horrible.”

  Should she offer to sit with the family and do basic household chores, or should she take her sister and Zeke and go home?

  Since Patience had resumed her wailing, maybe going home would be the best thing. Timothy and his family had never had much patience with Patience.

  Grace’s throat hurt from unshed tears, but she gave Lavina another hug. “Let me know if you get any news. Perhaps he and his friends took cover in a storm shelter. Or maybe he’s at one of his friends’ houses even as we speak.”

  Lavina stopped chanting “horrible” and peered at her, hope erasing the bleakness in her eyes. “Do you really think so? You’re a regular angel of mercy, Gracie.”

  Nein, she didn’t think so. She managed a smile, one that probably looked as sick as she felt, and turned away. “I’ll keep looking. Do you want some sandwiches and cookies? To help feed your guests?” Timothy had mentioned out-of-state family coming in for the wedding.