The Amish Wedding Promise

by Laura V. Hilton

  Giving that up hadn’t been a problem.

  She could pretend to be the perfect Amish girl…

  But she’d joined the church. She’d vowed to give up the things of the world in preparation for marriage. To put away childish things.

  She shouldn’t have to pretend. She should be.

  Maybe the “rules” were less about controlling her and more about love wanting to keep her safe. She thought of Toby’s sockless foot, Hallie’s scream, Timothy’s mamm’s fears and worry…and truly didn’t want to put her family through that. Especially after all the pain she witnessed today.

  Tears stung her eyes. She needed to apologize to Daed and Zeke.

  Maybe even to Gott.

  Gott probably had to come first.

  Grace folded the last sheet, laid the bag of clothespins on top of the folded laundry, and lifted the basket. Carrying it inside, she set it on the table and ran upstairs to her bedroom. She quietly shut the door. She wasn’t sure where Mamm and Patience had disappeared to. Grace hadn’t seen them since she returned home with Zeke and Vernon. But since the haus was silent, it was a good time to pray.

  Grace dropped to her knees beside the bed and bowed her head. But words wouldn’t come. She was so selfish. How could she ask Gott to make her into a perfect Amish woman when she was so far from perfect it was laughable? Not to mention Timothy was still missing, Toby’s family was in mourning, and Peter’s family was in limbo with him dangling somewhere between life and death.

  “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things,” she said, reciting a verse from 1 Corinthians 13. “Lord, help me to put away childish things. I’m so ashamed of myself and my behavior right now. Help me to think and act like an adult and not a child. Help me to have the words to apologize to Daed and to Zeke.”

  It would be hard to confess to Daed but beyond difficult to talk to Zeke, admitting that she’d developed this really quick crush on him because he treated her as if she had value and actually listened to her. Besides, she was smart enough to know nothing would ever come of it, not even if Timothy was gone. Zeke was from Indiana. It might as well be an ocean away.

  A howl came from beneath her bedroom window. A long, low, mournful sound. Grace pushed herself up from the floor beside the bed and went downstairs. She sat on the back porch, and Slush pressed up against her.

  She smoothed her hand over the dog’s now-clean, silky fur. Zeke had done a great job washing and brushing Slush. “Where is everyone?” The haus was too quiet, and Mamm never left except to visit family or friends, for church activities or work frolics, or…

  Grace snorted. Okay. They could be anywhere. Mamm might’ve heard of a neighbor’s need and taken off to serve however she could.

  A note would’ve been nice, though.

  A horse snorted and whinnied, followed by a cow’s answer. Charlie Horse pulled the buggy around the side of the haus as Daed parked by the stack of building supplies for the barn raising.

  Maybe she should have held more sandwiches back…

  No. People would bring food in. Besides, they still had plenty of sandwiches.

  Jon untied the cow from the back of the buggy and led her off to pasture where she joined the other cow.

  Grace stood and Slush bounded off to greet Zeke, as though he’d been gone for hours.

  Daed approached Grace, his face grim. His hands gently closed over her shoulders, and he gave her the tiniest of shakes. “What was that all about, daughter?”

  For a moment, Grace was tempted to play dumb and say something obvious, like, “There was a cow stuck in a shed, Daed.” But he wouldn’t believe that.

  Grace’s gaze went to where Zeke crouched beside the dog, roughly loving on the animal. Slush’s mouth was open in what could be a grin, and his tail wagged while he made crying sounds as if Zeke had been gone forever and at long last was home.

  Funny how she could sort of relate.

  “Oh, Gracie.” Daed’s voice was filled with…something that might be sorrow. “I was afraid it was something like that. He’s not from here.”

  “I know,” Grace whispered.

  “What’s wrong with Timothy that you don’t love him as you should?”

  Grace caught her breath, and her gaze shot from where Zeke and Slush frolicked to Daed. Had Zeke told Daed her secrets?

  But no, because if he had, he’d look guilty. He didn’t. Was he right and she should tell Daed her concerns and fears, even though the wedding was postponed if not cancelled? Would he wave them away as Mamm and her friends did, claiming it was just “cold feet” and “every bride got them”?

  She probably should explain. Even if he didn’t listen and told her the same thing everyone else did.

  Grace inhaled and stepped out of Daed’s loose grasp. “Can we talk?”

  * * *

  Zeke straightened as Slush got his fill of loving and wandered off to greet Jon and the cows. Gracie and Seth walked toward the road, talking. They were long overdue for this conversation. He whispered a prayer that Seth would listen to Gracie and reassure her somehow. Or help her call off the engagement if Timothy was alive and that’s what Gracie wanted to do.

  “I picked up some shingling nails in town.” Jon approached. “Want to help me check the roof?”

  Zeke looked up at the roof of the two-story building. “Did you buy a ladder?” He glanced toward the building supplies stacked on the ground. No ladder waved its tiny rung at him.

  “I figured we could crawl out Gracie’s window onto the overhang. From there it’s easy access to the roof.”

  Zeke eyed the overhang. “Her bedroom is the one over the back porch?” There was a measure of forbidden knowledge in that, even though he knew where her room was inside. He hadn’t matched it up with the exterior layout yet. A twinge of excitement worked its way through him, but he tried to squash it down. He had no reason to care, no reason to use that knowledge. That right belonged to Timothy.

  A twinge worked through Zeke at the thought.

  “What about hammers?” Zeke glanced at Jon. “Though, I suppose, if you count the red-and-yellow plastic baby rattle one in the blue toolbox, we have two. I call dibs on the pink one.”

  Jon laughed. “We bought hammers, except we didn’t grab them when going to rescue the cow. We’ll need tools for a barn raising.”

  “And the pink ones aren’t tools?” He raised an eyebrow to remind Jon he’d used the pink hammer. Oh, he shouldn’t goad the man.

  Jon laughed again. “Do you want a manly tool or not?”

  “I’m man enough to handle pink.”

  “That you are. But still, do you want a regular hammer?”

  “Jah, please.”

  Jon unearthed a plastic bag from the dark recesses under the tarp and led the way inside the house. “We didn’t buy shingles yet. The roof will come after the barn if it needs to be replaced.”

  Obviously. Hallie’s daed had said much the same thing. The funeral would come before roofs, too. And if this community was like his, visitation would start tomorrow and last two days. Then the funeral.

  Although, if Zeke went, it would only be for Toby’s family, because Zeke didn’t know Toby. Other than that he went buggy racing during a tornado. And courted Hallie. No. If he had the option, he wouldn’t go. Vernon probably wouldn’t be there, either. They wouldn’t be expected to attend.

  So, why was he even thinking about it?

  Zeke shouldered through the door that had started to swing shut and followed Jon upstairs.

  Gracie and Patience’s shared room was plain, with a high bed, a footstool to climb in, and a red-and-white patchwork quilt folded at the end. Clothes hung on pegs on the wall. A stuffed teddy bear rested on one side of the bed. Two packed and sealed boxes were on top of a hope chest, probably ready to be moved to Gracie’s new home after the wedding. He wondered what was in there. But he’d probably never know.

  A la
vender nightgown was folded on top of a pillow.

  Zeke’s heart lurched. He looked away and followed Jon.

  They walked around the bed to the narrow space between the mattress and the wall. Jon shoved open the window, removed the screen, set it outside, and climbed out. No hesitation. He must’ve done this before.

  Zeke hesitated just inside the window. There just seemed something so wrong about sneaking out of a girl’s bedroom window. What would Seth have to say about it if Zeke were caught? What would Gracie think?

  What if, when he came back in, he caught her with her hair uncovered or down, and…

  His face heated.

  Zeke leaned out the window as far as he could but didn’t see either Seth or Gracie approaching. Vernon was out in the pasture with the cows and Charlie Horse, looking at something on the ground.

  Jon peeked over the ledge above him. “Coming, Bontrager?”

  “Just contemplating how much trouble I’d be in if I was caught.”

  Jon smiled. An evil-looking smile. “I don’t suggest finding out. But this time it’s okay. Trust me.”

  “Trust me. Famous last words, those.”

  No reply came from Jon, other than a possible chuckle. But Zeke stepped out onto the porch roof, walked to the low overhang of the triangular portion of the roof on the second floor, and climbed up.

  From the rooftop he could see Seth and Gracie walking slowly on the edge of the road. Gracie was talking, using her hands to emphasize whatever point she was trying to make. Zeke couldn’t see Seth’s expression, but Slush trailed them, tail low hanging and still.

  In the distance, two women, maybe Gracie’s mamm and Patience, walked, each carrying a cardboard box.

  Jon handed Zeke a hammer. “If you can stop gawking at Gracie long enough, you can start over there.” He pointed to the far side of the roof.

  “I wasn’t gawking at Gracie. Just curious what has Vernon so enthralled in the pasture and what your mamm and Patience are carrying in those boxes.” And mostly wondering what Gracie was telling Seth and how he was taking it.

  “No clue about Vernon, but I know what’s in the boxes. Chickens. Ours were all lost in the tornado. Someone offered us some of their flock.”

  Well, that answered one question. Except, “With no barn, where will you put them to roost?”

  Jon snickered. “Cute. I should’ve said baby chicks. They’ll keep them in the kitchen, for now.”

  Oh. And that was enough looking like an idiot. Zeke accepted a handful of roofing nails from Jon and made his way to the opposite side of the roof. A chicken coop was probably in the short-term plans.

  The Lantzes’ roof was mostly in good repair. There were a few loose shingles, but a nail here and there fixed the few problems Zeke found.

  They were just finishing up when an ear-piercing scream was followed by a wail. Zeke glanced at Jon; then both of them scrambled for the edge of the roof. Zeke dropped to the overhang, but the bedroom window was shut, the screen still sitting where Jon had placed it.

  He peered in the window. Patience was dancing around the room, waving her hands over her head and shrieking. She turned toward the window and must’ve seen him because she screamed again.

  Jon landed beside him, with the bag containing the hammers. “What’s going on?”

  “Indian rain dance?” Zeke guessed. “And then I scared her.” He tried to lift the window. “She locked it.” He tapped it. “Patience?”

  Another scream. More arm flapping.

  And then Zeke noticed movement near the ceiling. “A bird.”

  “Open up, Patience.” Jon leaned against the window. “We can help.”

  Patience screamed again and dived toward the window. She fumbled with the lock but finally got it. Tears streamed down her face.

  Zeke tugged the window open on the outside and crawled in, Jon on his heels. Dashing across the room, Zeke pulled the bedroom door closed to keep the bird confined to the one area.

  Knocking the lavender nightgown on the floor, Jon grabbed a pillow and tried to guide the bird toward the open window.

  The bird didn’t get the hint. It flapped around in the corners of the ceiling, looking for exits where there were none.

  Patience shrieked again.

  “Boys! Stop teasing Patience!” The shout came from downstairs.

  Zeke grabbed the other pillow and handed it to Patience. “Go sit in the corner, cover your head, and don’t move. We’ll get the bird out.”

  With a whimper, Patience did as he said.

  He turned to Jon. “Let’s not chase it but let it quiet down instead. Maybe then we can catch it.”

  “Not likely.” He swung in an unsuccessful attempt to guide the bird out the window and then tossed the pillow on the bed. “Now what, wise guy?”

  Zeke tried to hide the shrug that wanted to escape. He didn’t know. But chasing it was just aggravating the bird more.

  It did quiet down some, flittering around the upper pane of the window. The part that didn’t open, of course. It stilled long enough for Zeke to identify it as a wren, possibly. It fluttered to the top of the curtain rod and sat there, staring at the two men as if they were its mortal enemies and…

  Too bad they couldn’t communicate they were there to help.

  The wren made harsh chirring sounds, seemed to decide Zeke was a likely candidate for attack, then flew at his face.

  Zeke might’ve squawked, though he tried not to because of Patience.

  Jon snickered, a sound that turned into a controlled roar as the bird targeted him.

  The bedroom door was flung open. Gracie stood there, staring at them. “What on earth are you doing?”

  The bird flew out the open window.

  Of course.

  Jon grabbed the screen, fumbling in his hurry to install it.

  Patience wailed, launching herself up and into Gracie’s arms.

  Zeke picked up the nightgown and flopped on the bed, suddenly beyond weary.

  Had he only arrived in Hidden Springs just that morning?

  Chapter 13

  Grace patted Patience’s back and made shushing sounds as Jon finished installing the screen, gathered his scattered tools that must have fallen from the bag, and hightailed it from the room with a glance at Zeke. “Come on, sleepyhead.”

  Zeke didn’t move. One arm was flung over his eyes; his other clutched her nightgown against his chest. His breathing had evened out, and Grace was tempted to let him sleep despite his filth from working so hard sawing up innumerable trees, plus repairing or rescuing: two roofs, a dog, a cow, a mailbox, and who-knew-what-else after being up all night with a laboring horse.

  Not to mention there was kind of a forbidden thrill in knowing that Zeke was asleep on her bed. Hugging her nightgown.

  He didn’t get much of a chance to rest, though.

  Just as Patience’s cries turned into sniffling gasps as if she’d been deprived of oxygen, Jon stuck his head back through the door. “Do we need to wake Sleeping Beauty with a kiss?”

  That shocked Patience into silence. Then, “Kiss Zeke?”

  Jon’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Grace with a what-now expression. “I could let Slush in to do it.”

  “Mamm not like.” Patience frowned. “Animals not in haus. Except baby chicks.”

  “We could shake him awake.” Jon frowned.

  Patience shook her head. “I kiss Zeke.”

  Jon grimaced. Unless they wanted to hear Patience screaming again, a kiss would be required. He sighed and looked back at Patience. “Maybe kiss him on the cheek,” he amended softly.

  Grace nodded. If Patience kissed him, then on the cheek would be best. Because any lip kisses by any Lantz girls with Zeke would be…well, not good. They’d probably be great. But that would be a discovery for another day.

  If ever.

  Was it wrong to hope it would happen? Someday? Soon?

  Patience wiped her tearstained cheeks with her sleeve and, with a happy smile, trotted
over and gave Zeke a very loud smack on the cheek.

  Jon cringed as Zeke bolted upright.

  He stared at Patience, eyes wide.

  “I kiss Sleeping Beauty.” Patience patted his hand.

  Zeke’s gaze shifted from Patience to Jon to Grace, then back. His cheeks reddened. “Aw, Patience, danki, but I’m not Sleeping Beauty. That would be you.”

  But his gaze shifted to Grace and lingered as if he meant her. Her face warmed.

  “Get off of my sisters’ bed, lazy bones,” Jon said, but his tone was teasing.

  Zeke might not have recognized it, though, because the redness of his cheeks brightened. He stood, mumbled what might have been an apology as he avoided their gazes, and followed Jon from the room.

  “Let’s go find out what has Vernon so spellbound in the pasture. He’s been gazing at the ground since before we went up on the roof,” Jon said.

  Zeke paused and glanced back at Grace but still didn’t look her in the eyes. “Talk later?” he mouthed.

  She nodded. She wanted to tell him about her conversation with Daed anyway. But Zeke appeared exhausted, and the conversation might not happen that evening. In fact, with the disrupted sleep of the previous night and the early hour for the barn raising tomorrow, they’d probably all be headed to bed as soon as they finished chores.

  Patience sniffled beside her. “That bird scare me.”

  Grace put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “It was probably afraid of you, too. Come on—let’s wash up and go help Mamm in the kitchen.”

  And maybe sneak out to the pasture with Jon and Zeke to find out what Vernon was looking at out there. She’d seen him earlier but hadn’t thought twice about it until Jon mentioned it.

  For a second, fear stabbed at her. Was it Timothy? Or one of their two still-missing horses? But no. It couldn’t be a body or a live person or animal, because Vernon would’ve been quick to let them know.

  After her earlier buggy jump and the following talk with Daed, she wasn’t willing to risk appearing unladylike again by following the men out there. Sigh. She had to wait to satisfy her curiosity.