The Amish Wedding Promise

by Laura V. Hilton

  “That’d be appreciated, Gracie Lou.”

  Her middle name wasn’t Lou, but she didn’t correct Lavina as she reached into the picnic basket and handed several large resealable storage bags to her would-be mother-in-law. Then she climbed into the buggy.

  “Thank you,” Lavina gushed.

  Grace nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll help her find Timothy,” Zeke offered.

  Grace turned away and patted Patience’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

  The words were more for Grace, but it worked to reduce Patience’s wails to gasps and sniffles.

  Slush licked Grace’s cheek.

  Warm breath tickled Grace’s other ear.

  “Do you really think so, Gracie?” Zeke mimicked Lavina’s words in a whisper, his voice heavily underscored with skepticism.

  Was giving false hope to Lavina a lie?

  Grace shrugged, her shoulder bumping against Zeke’s chin as he moved away. Sparks shot through her.

  More important, was it a sin to be physically attracted to another man on her wedding day? Especially right after learning her groom might be dead…and in clear sight of her would-be groom’s mother?

  * * *

  As Gracie drove home, Zeke scrolled through his contacts on his phone again, just in case he’d overlooked something in all the previous drama.

  He hadn’t.

  Rule number one in search and rescue: Keep your team close at all times.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t rule number one, but it was definitely somewhere in the top ten. And due to his own failure, he didn’t have a way to get in contact with any of them, except Kiah and Vernon—and the latter only because they were partners on this trip.

  Zeke sighed. It wouldn’t do any good to call or text Kiah, because he’d be unlikely to have the information, either.

  On the other hand, whoever Kiah was partnered with might have the information.

  Zeke thumbed a quick message: I need the phone number for the Mennonite in charge.

  A minute later, the phone chirped with a message. Why? You bailing on me? The number followed. Along with a name: Daniel Zook.

  Ha. No. I’ll tell you later. Thanks.

  And then the dilemma—call Daniel Zook and risk Gracie and Patience overhearing or…

  The buggy lurched over something big, and Zeke’s cell phone fell, skittering across the floor. He dived from his seat, hitting his knees on the lower surface and wedging his shoulders between the front and back seats. He carefully reached over the chain saw and grabbed his phone as the wheels bumped over something else. It seriously needed new shocks. He clutched his phone and somehow managed to shove the device into his pocket. He’d call later.

  He glanced up and met the brown-and-blue gaze of Slush. The dog’s mouth was parted in a wide grin as if he were laughing.

  Zeke would laugh at himself, too. He got off the floor, sat, and reached forward to rub his hand over Slush’s dirty, matted fur. The dog seriously did need a bath. If they didn’t have anything else for him to do this evening, he’d give him a bath himself. After experiencing who knew what horrors, the dog deserved attention.

  Gracie took a corner too fast and he slid on the seat. She drove like he did back home when he was in a rush. Were her emotions driving her to distraction and she just wanted to get home before falling apart in front of her sister? Probably.

  His hand shifted from the dog’s back to the seat behind Gracie. The back of his fingers brushed against her shoulder. Tingles worked up his arm.

  He pulled away and directed his attention toward the devastation lining the road. Siding. Shingles. Insulation. Sheets of mangled metal. Houses reduced to nothing but rubble. Maybe the buggy shocks weren’t a problem after all. The road was in bad shape.

  A group of electric workers waved as they passed. “Thanks for the sandwiches and cookies.”

  Gracie waved back.

  Then they passed a very beat-up mailbox that dangled precariously from its post. She turned in on the dirt drive. There was a smallish, two-story farmhouse, considering there were twelve sons, and no barn. No shed. No animals, except the horse pulling the buggy Gracie drove, and the dog.

  A fallen tree being sawed into pieces littered the driveway. And about a dozen men, most of them bearded, looked up as Gracie pulled the reins. “Halt.”

  Slush stood, his tail wagging but low and slow as if he was confused or unsure about something. The destruction? Possibly.

  One of the Amish men, this one beardless, approached the buggy. “You found the dog. And your groom.”

  Gracie made some sort of noise.

  Zeke’s heart rate surged into a gallop.

  Patience grinned. “Her new groom.”

  Chapter 5

  Grace struggled for a breath as Jon’s gaze shifted from her to Patience, then to Zeke.

  “Who are you?” Jon’s brow furrowed as he put down the chain saw and approached the buggy. “You aren’t who I expected. Where is Timothy?” His gaze returned to Grace.

  She would be surprised if Jon really had expected her to bring Timothy back. She opened her mouth to try to find an explanation, but sudden, unexpected emotion clogged her throat.

  Behind her, Zeke cleared his throat. “I’m Zeke Bontrager from Shipshewana. I was told to report to Seth Lantz. I’m part of the crew that came with the Mennonite missionaries, and I’m not anybody’s groom.” He angled a glance at Patience.

  “I’m Gracie’s brother Jon.”

  Slush climbed over Grace’s lap, his toenails digging into her legs through the fabric of her dress, and he jumped out of the buggy.

  Jon put his hand on Slush’s head as Daed came over, crouched down, and petted the dog. “Welcome home, boy.”

  Patience turned to stare at Zeke. “You Gracie’s groom,” she insisted.

  Grace’s face burned. She forced herself to focus on her brothers and Daed. “I don’t know where Timothy is. His buggy is in the bishop’s living room, but he’s gone.”

  Daed frowned.

  “Timothy’s mamm said he was racing buggies with his friends,” Grace whispered.

  Daed’s eyes widened. He turned his attention to Jon. “Let this be a lesson to you, son. Don’t go racing the nacht before you marry Aubrey.”

  Jon nodded. “That would be a given.”

  Zeke climbed out of the buggy. “Did my cous—eh, partner arrive? Vernon Graber?”

  “Jah. He’s…” Daed waved his hand toward the house and shrugged. “Guess he figured we had the tree under control.”

  Zeke nodded. “If you tell me what you need, I’ll get to work. There are the trees we cut to get the buggy through, if I could borrow your wagon…” He glanced around. Grace followed his gaze. No wagons. Her brothers had come on bicycles and scooters.

  It would seem obvious for him to help with the current tree, but fourteen men working on one tree was a bit of overkill.

  “I could go out looking for Timothy…” Not that he’d know where to look.

  “I hear they are organizing a search. They’ll update us if we’re needed. Englischers are heading it up.” Daed glanced toward the road. “They have special people—I believe they said National Guard. From past experience, we’re in their way.”

  “I’ll carry your bag in and help Mamm.” Grace held her hand toward Patience to assist her out of the buggy.

  Patience grasped her hand and clambered out. “I give Slush bath.”

  Slush tucked his tail and howled. A long, mournful sound.

  Daed turned to Zeke. “Instead of worrying about the wood, fill the bucket with water, find the dog shampoo, and help Patience with Slush.”

  He nodded. “Jah, sir.” He glanced at Patience.

  “Keep in mind you’ll be wetter than the dog,” Daed warned.

  Slush made a series of short, sharp barks, looking at Daed.

  Grace stifled a giggle. The dog was the only one who could get away with back talk. She turned her back to the men, grabbed the
picnic basket and Zeke’s bag from the back—one of her brothers had already snagged the chain saw—and turned toward the house.

  Mamm had coffee percolating in the kitchen, but she wasn’t in the room. A male voice came from upstairs. Probably the Vernon that Zeke had mentioned.

  Grace put the leftover sandwiches and cookies on the table, left Zeke’s travel bag on a chair, and carried the picnic basket to the basement. She slid it onto the shelf where it belonged and turned to go upstairs as Patience and Zeke came down.

  Holding hands.

  Well, more accurately, Patience tugged Zeke’s hand. “This way.”

  Zeke flashed Grace an easygoing grin full of mischief. It was enough to make her wish she were giving Slush a bath. He and Patience were going to have fun. Slush, not so much.

  At least not until the end when he retaliated by shaking all the water off his fur and drenching anyone nearby. Then he’d go lie down in the sun with a big grin.

  Grace decided to stay in the basement to chaperone. Zeke seemed like a very nice man, but Patience was holding his hand. Grace would have to warn her—again—against touching a man. It was frowned upon, even by courting couples, though some did touch, hug, or kiss when the chaperones turned their backs.

  Grace could count the number of times on both hands that Timothy had touched her in the three years he’d courted her.

  Kissed would be half that.

  Despite herself, her gaze went to Zeke as he let go of Patience’s hand and lifted the metal tub down from the nail on the wall. His muscles pulled the back of his shirt tight. He’d touched her twice in comfort or accidentally since she met him. She’d felt more sparks in those accidental touches from Zeke than in all of Timothy’s intentional ones. What would it be like to be kissed by him?

  Ach, her shameful thoughts. Grace fanned her face with her hand, then went to get the dog shampoo and handed it to Patience. But despite her internal scolding, her gaze shot right back to Zeke.

  He turned, catching Grace staring at him.

  “Sure you don’t want to help, Gracie?”

  She wanted to, jah, but there was probably something sinful about having fun with another man on your wedding day, even though her groom had disappeared.

  One of the preachers would be able to point to chapter and verse—or find something in the Ordnung—to fit the situation, but Gracie’s brains had packed a suitcase and headed south at some point.

  She managed a mute head shake.

  “It be fun, Gracie,” Patience said.

  It would be. But…“Mamm needs me. Danki anyway.”

  “Too bad, Gracie. You need to know Zeke if you marry him.”

  Zeke’s face turned a fascinating shade of red that Grace was sure she rivaled, but he chuckled.

  “Jah. What she said.”

  * * *

  Zeke could almost imagine Daed shaking his head in dismay at Zeke’s rather flippant agreement, but he wasn’t sure how exactly to handle Patience. Sure, he had a special cousin, but Jonah was male and didn’t make comments about Zeke marrying some girl he’d just met. He also didn’t cry so easily. And in light of Patience’s overabundance of tears, it seemed wiser to agree now and try to explain the situation later. If and when he found the words.

  Better yet, maybe Gracie would explain.

  He followed Patience and Gracie upstairs, trying not to notice the sway of Gracie’s serviceable maroon dress. She turned to go into the kitchen where a woman he assumed was her mamm now puttered, pouring Vernon a cup of coffee. A plate of sandwiches and cookies sat in front of him. Snacking instead of working.

  Giving the dog a bath wasn’t much better, but that was what he was told. At least he was working.

  He shouldn’t judge. Vernon hadn’t bought anything to eat or drink at the fast-food restaurant, so he probably was hungry. And Zeke had eaten a couple of sandwiches in the buggy on the way here.

  Zeke turned and followed Patience outside.

  Slush lay sprawled on the grass, an almost stubborn expression on his face. He opened his mouth and eerie howls filled the air.

  “Up. Now,” Patience demanded, finger pointing to the dog.

  The dog made a series of short barks, somehow doing it without getting up. He finished it up with another howl.

  Zeke stared, fascinated. Who knew a dog could have a temper tantrum?

  “Slush,” Patience said firmly. “Up. Bath.”

  The dog commented back with more short, sharp barks and another howl. He didn’t move.

  “Let’s go.” Patience stomped her foot.

  Slush glared but got to his feet with a huff.

  Zeke followed them to the corner of the house where a water spigot was located.

  “Hose in barn,” Patience directed.

  “Sure.” Zeke nodded. But since the barn was gone, the hose likely was too. He hesitated to say so, though, in case it restarted her tears.

  One of the men, probably one of her brothers, approached. “The hose is in the pile of junk over yonder. Not going to guarantee its condition, though, since it had a nail driven straight through it.” He kept his voice low, probably so Patience wouldn’t hear and get upset.

  “Danki.” Zeke headed that way. He found the hose, uncoiled it, but the man was right. It was in terrible condition. Good thing it was warm, with temperatures supposed to be in the mid to upper sixties, according to the weather report he’d heard in the van earlier.

  He carried the hose over to the spigot and attached it as Patience set the tub where she wanted it and ordered Slush in.

  Not that Slush went willingly. He voiced his opinion before obeying and after he got in. Just like Zeke and Eli. They tended to protest when asked to do something they didn’t want to do, too.

  Zeke turned the water on, and Patience squealed as water shot from everywhere, as if it were a sprinkler hose.

  The backdoor to the house opened and Vernon and Gracie stepped out. Vernon glanced at Zeke, his expression heavily lined with judgment, as if Zeke’s job was women’s work—and it was—and that were all Zeke was good for, which it wasn’t. Zeke resisted the strong temptation to turn the hose in that direction just to see Vernon dance, but it wouldn’t win Zeke any friends. It’d probably earn him a well-deserved lecture and maybe an early trip home.

  He needed to go home a hero, so perhaps—

  No matter. He’d be unlikely to be recognized as anything more than a screwup even if he saved the whole world from certain disaster like some comic book superhero. Which he wasn’t.

  Gracie said something quietly to Vernon, who bestowed a charming smile on her, and he went to join her brothers and daed. And Vernon would probably know all their names before he did a lick of work.

  Zeke figured he’d get to know them in time. Standing there while twelve people tossed names at him at once would only serve to confuse him.

  “Pay attention.” Patience jerked the hose from his hand.

  Right. Zeke turned, just as the dog’s grin faded and he let loose another long, pitiful howl.

  “You soap. He not hold still,” Patience said. She aimed the hose toward the washtub and Slush’s feet.

  Slush moaned, long and loud enough that any neighbors nearby would think the animal was in agony. Shoot, Zeke was right there and he almost believed Slush was dying or something.

  “He hate baths.” Patience glanced at Zeke.

  That would be a given. But Zeke nodded. He dared to venture close enough to pat the dog’s head. The look he got in return could only be called pitiful. And miserable. Definitely miserable.

  “You poor thing,” he crooned. “You’ll feel so much better once you’re clean. And the sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll be finished.” He reached for the dog shampoo and soaped the dog up. “Do you have a wire brush for him?”

  “That Gracie’s job.” Patience started rinsing the dog off.

  “I won’t mind if he does it.” Gracie’s voice startled Zeke. He hadn’t known she was still near.


  “Maybe you’ll sit with me while I brush.” The words came out without conscious thought. He liked the idea, though, but it would be a very courtship-type thing to do, and they weren’t courting. “Slush, that is. Not you.” His tongue tripped over itself in his hurry to retract. Not that it worked. He cringed. He sounded like an idiot, because if he was brushing Slush, then of course Slush would be sitting with him. He clamped his mouth shut before he added something even more stupid. Like maybe suggesting a walk later.

  Patience giggled. “He not mean Slush.”

  Gracie blushed. “Maybe I will.”

  Really? His heart pounded.

  “And we’ll outline a game plan to find Timothy.”

  Right. The missing groom.

  And with that Zeke was slammed right back into his place.

  * * *

  Grace went to fetch the dog brush from the basement shelf, then returned to the back porch as Slush violently shook, sending water flying in every direction.

  Patience squealed.

  Zeke made a grunting sound.

  Grace tried not to giggle, but it escaped anyway, as Slush grinned happily and strutted off, tail held high.

  Zeke spun to face her, as if something in her giggle had lit a spark of…well, something. His eyes filled with humor and maybe a challenge.

  She shivered and backed away.

  He took a step toward her, then stopped, the light dying in his gaze.

  Disappointment stabbed her.

  What would it be like to be courted by this man?

  Shame flooded over her like the waters of the local creeks during the spring rains. She shouldn’t think that way when she was engaged, promised, almost married…

  Ach. Acute pain butchered what was left of her emotions. Tears stung. A lump clogged her throat. She dropped the brush on the porch floor and blindly fled toward the backdoor, stumbling over her feet and uneven boards, and oof. An unseen step flung her forward.

  She threw her arms out to catch herself, but the next second strong hands closed around her waist, hauling her up and back.