Healing Their Amish Hearts (Colorado Amish Courtships Book 4)

by Leigh Bale

“What was the name again of the little dog in the story Becca was reading to you?” Jesse asked.

  He was looking at Sam expectantly. Obviously, he hoped the boy would respond. But he didn’t. Sam glanced hesitantly at his father, then stared down at his plate. He didn’t say a single word but set his fork on his plate, as though he’d lost his appetite.

  The silence continued and Becca realized the mute boy had returned. To break the stilted moment, she reached across the table and squeezed Sam’s chilled hand.

  “It’s all right,” she said. Then, she looked at Jesse. “The dog’s name was Patches. We had fun reading about him and Elmo.”

  Jesse’s gaze met hers and she could see the disappointment in his eyes. Sam had spoken for her but not for his father. And that must sting Jesse pretty hard.

  They finished their meal in silence and Becca quickly washed the remaining dishes. She was startled when both Sam and Jesse helped her clear the meal away.

  “It’s getting late. You go on up and get ready for bed. I’ll be up soon to read you a story,” Jesse told his son.

  A glint of eagerness sparked in Sam’s eyes but he merely nodded and did as asked. When they were alone, Jesse reached for a clean dish towel and started drying the dishes.

  “You’re gut with him,” Jesse said.

  Becca sank her hands deep into the hot, sudsy water as she scrubbed a particularly stubborn fork. “It’s easy to be helpful with Sam. He’s such a sweet, innocent little boy.”

  “I... I want to thank you for what you did tonight. I know it wasn’t much and he didn’t speak during dinner but just hearing his voice again was amazing,” Jesse said.

  She nodded. “I know. I couldn’t believe it when he actually spoke. In all honesty, I didn’t expect him to do it so soon and it was all I could do not to jump up and yell. It took everything in me to remain calm and act natural.”

  “Me too. He’s comfortable around you. It’s obvious you don’t make him nervous.” Jesse didn’t look at her as he dried a spoon and placed it in a drawer.

  “Ja, I think you’re right. And that’s a gut thing,” she agreed.

  “But I do. I make him too nervous to talk.”

  Jesse stood perfectly still. He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes filled with a bit of misery. Becca didn’t know what to say. She realized in that moment just how far apart Jesse and Sam really were. And the fact that Jesse knew it too made her feel a great deal of compassion for him. The house fire had taken more than just his wife and two daughters. In a way, it had stolen Sam from him too.

  “I’m sorry, Jesse. I... I didn’t mean to do anything wrong or create a problem for you,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Ne, it isn’t your fault, Becca. It’s mine.”

  She went very still as he told her about the night he’d come home to find his house on fire. Sam had cried and kept telling him it was his fault.

  “The day I buried my wife and dechder, I was filled with such grief.” He spoke in an aching whisper that caused goose bumps to cover her arms and neck. “I pushed Sam away. He tried to comfort me and I couldn’t stand to even look at him. I think he knew what I was feeling inside. He’d started the fire and I blamed him for killing my familye. Now, he suffers from nightmares. He doesn’t say anything but I know he relives the trauma of that night over and over again. We both do.”

  Jesse braced his hands on the countertop and hung his head. Before she could stop herself, she reached out and touched his arm.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jesse. So deeply sorry,” she said.

  He lifted his head and she saw the anguish and sorrow in his dark eyes. For just a moment, he looked bereft. She’d seen that same look in Jakob’s eyes when she’d attended the funeral of his first wife after she’d died in childbirth. Nothing Becca could do or say could console him.

  “That’s why he was late for school this morning. He’d had a bad nightmare and it took a long time for me to calm him down,” Jesse said.

  Ah, so now she knew. He hadn’t been cruel to the boy. Sam had simply had a nightmare and been crying. Jesse had tried to comfort the boy. He wasn’t an abusive father. Not from what she could see. He was just a grieving father and husband who was trying to help his troubled son. And knowing this brought Becca a great deal of respect for Jesse as well as a ton of relief. The fact that he had confided in her softened her heart.

  Jesse swallowed hard and took a deep breath before glancing out the window. “It’s dark already and you should be home where you’ll be safe. It’s time for you to go.”

  He didn’t wait for her approval before he reached for her heavy, black shawl, scarf and warm traveling bonnet and handed them to her. He watched her silently as she put them on. Then, he walked her outside where he harnessed her horse to her buggy.

  “I can see the lights of your farm late at night,” he said.

  “Ja, Jakob will leave a kerosene lamp burning for me until I arrive home safely. If it gets too late, he’ll komm looking for me.”

  “I figured as much. The roads are very icy. I’ll watch for the light. If it stays on, I’ll know you’re in trouble and will komm find you. If the light goes out, I’ll know you’ve arrived home safe.”

  Since they didn’t have cell phones, this system would work. She let him take her hand as he helped her climb into her buggy. “I’ll turn off the light as soon as I arrive home.”

  He nodded and, taking the leather lead lines into her gloved hands, she slapped them lightly on her horse’s rump. Even though it was only eight o’clock, it had been a long day and she was eager to get home. Because they got up at four in the morning, most Amish were in bed by this time. Perhaps she had stayed too long. She still had lesson plans to review for tomorrow. She would take the kerosene light to her room on the opposite side of her house, so Jesse wouldn’t be able to see it from his farm and get worried about her. No doubt she’d be up late preparing for school in the morning.

  Within minutes, her horse had pulled onto the main county road. In the moonlight, she could see the shimmer of black ice on the asphalt. She drove very slowly and, as her horse settled into an even rhythm, she hoped they wouldn’t encounter any automotive vehicles before she reached the turnoff to her cousin’s farm. It was dangerous to drive a horse and buggy in the dark.

  She stayed stiff and alert and, when she reached her home safely, she breathed a sigh of relief. Almost everyone in the house was already in bed but Aunt Naomi greeted her wearing her warm flannel nightgown and carrying a bright kerosene lamp.

  “I was getting worried about you,” the woman said, peering at Becca to ensure she was all right.

  “There was no need.” Becca spoke softly so she wouldn’t awaken the others. “I did some gut work with little Sam this night. He spoke for the first time, Aent Naomi. It was only a whisper, but he spoke twice.”

  “Ach, that’s wundervoll. I’m so glad. Now, let’s go to bed. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”

  “You go on. I’ll be up in just a few minutes,” Becca said.

  Satisfied that her niece was home safe, Naomi handed her the kerosene lamp before disappearing up the dark stairs.

  Becca carried the lamp over to the kitchen window facing Jesse’s hay field. She turned the light up bright, hoping he would see it. Then, she turned it off, knowing he would get the message that she was home safe.

  Moving silently through the darkness, she entered her bedroom and pulled a chair over to the window. She rested her cheek against the cool windowsill, thinking perhaps she could delay her schoolwork for one more day. Because honestly, she was too tired to do any more tonight.

  Lying on the bed, she closed her eyes and tried to rest. But her mind was too active to sleep. She thought about all that had happened that evening. Sam had spoken and Jesse had revealed some deeply personal things to her. She knew without a doubt that he was still po
werfully in love with his deceased wife. He was still grieving for her and their two daughters. And perhaps that was for the best. She was Sam’s teacher and had helped him make substantial progress today. That was her job. It was the career she had chosen for herself. She didn’t need anything else. So, why couldn’t she stop wishing for more?

  * * *

  Jesse stood on his back porch and gazed into the dark. Far across the rocky fields, a small pinpoint of light could be seen, coming from the Fishers’ farmhouse. No more than a faint glow that flickered among the dark, barren trees bordering their two property lines. And yet, it was so clear. Like a beacon lighting the way for a ship lost at sea. Just a pale glow but easy enough to see. Jesse knew it was way past the time when Becca and her familye should have gone to bed. And because the light persisted, he started to worry about her. What if her horse and buggy had gone off the frozen road? What if she was stranded in a snowbank and needed his help? Maybe she hadn’t made it home yet. Maybe she was hurt.

  He turned, prepared to wake up Sam so he could go looking for Becca. But the light went out abruptly and he released a pensive exhale. She was home safe. He knew her cousins wouldn’t turn out the light until she was there. Jesse could finally go to bed and rest, though he knew he would find very little sleep. His mind was too filled with riotous thoughts. Memories of his past happiness and the burden of guilt for losing it all.

  Entering his kitchen, he was careful not to let the screen door clap closed and wake up Sam. He doffed his boots, making his way through the dark house in his stockinged feet. He had a hole in the big toe of his right sock but didn’t plan to darn it, or any of his other socks and shirts, anytime soon. Sewing had been Alice’s task and he doubted he could do a decent job of it. Maybe he could hire one of the Amish women from church to do his mending. Until then, he’d just put up with the holes.

  After building up the kindling in the potbellied stove, he walked up the creaking stairs and paused just before Sam’s doorway to listen. No restless shifting or low cries came from the room. His son was fast asleep, seeming content for the night. And Jesse knew they had Becca to thank for that.

  Grateful for all that had transpired this evening, he made his way to his own room where he sat on the mattress and removed his woolen socks. As he lay back on the cool covers, his mind was filled with wonder. Gott had truly blessed them this night. Sam had finally spoken for the first time in over a year. It wasn’t much, just two little words that were said in a quiet whisper. But it was enough. Sam had talked. Finally.

  Until they got to the dinner table.

  Then, the child had looked at Jesse and clammed up tight as a fist. Jesse knew it was because Sam feared him. Because the boy felt guilty for what he had done. And yet, there was no anger in Jesse toward his son. No guile or recriminations. Not anymore. The boy was only a young child. What had happened hadn’t been his fault. Not really. Jesse was the patriarch of his home. If the house fire had been anyone’s fault, it was his.

  He wanted Sam to be happy. To go on and live a joyful life filled with good works. When Jesse had watched Becca’s buggy pull away from his home, he’d been touched by her kindness. She’d provided them with a tasty supper. She’d washed the dishes and brought order to his house. And laughter. For just a moment, he had wished she could stay. But she wasn’t Alice. She wasn’t his wife. And he felt disloyal for being drawn in by her winsome smiles and easy manner as she moved around his home.

  After she’d left, he’d kept his word and read a bedtime story to Sam. It had been a surprisingly pleasant task. Jesse had read one of the books Becca had brought them. Acting out the voices of each character, he’d made Sam smile several times. He’d even tried Becca’s tactic and asked the boy who was his favorite person in the story. But Sam hadn’t said a word. He’d simply pointed at the mother in the story and Jesse’s heart had filled with so much pain that he thought he’d cry right then and there in front of his son.

  Sam missed Alice. So did Jesse. More than he could say. He loved her with all his heart, mind and strength. And he could not forget her. No, not ever.

  Sam’s words spoken to Becca that evening hadn’t been much but, in his heart of hearts, Jesse had cheered loud and hard the moment he’d heard them. Finally. Finally, Sam had spoken again. And if he could do it twice, he could do it again. Surely the dam of silence had been broken open. The boy obviously felt comfortable and safe with Becca. But that didn’t matter to Jesse. Because other than educating Sam, Jesse must not let the pretty schoolteacher impact his emotions or his life any more than that. No, sirree. Not one single bit.

  Chapter Seven

  By Saturday morning, the skies had cleared to an azure blue. Rainstorms had all but dissipated the snow across the countryside, leaving the earth saturated and smelling of musty, damp soil. As Becca drove the horse and buggy over to Jesse’s farm, she didn’t care a bit. It was still early and, though she was glad the day was clear and free of wind for this outing, she was too happy and excited to worry about the weather.

  Aunt Naomi and her eight-year-old granddaughter, Ruby, sat beside Becca on the seat. On her lap, Naomi held her sixteen-month-old granddaughter, Chrissie. Jakob, his wife, Abby, and Dawdi Zeke rode in a horse-drawn wagon behind them, with ten-year-old Reuben in the back. A sense of exhilaration swarmed Becca’s chest when she considered the surprise they were about to offer Jesse and Sam. The buggy and wagon were laden with a nice lunch, hand tools, buckets of off-white paint and brushes, three large rag rugs that Aunt Naomi didn’t need anymore, and plain muslin cloth to make curtains for Jesse’s windows.

  Dressed in a black chambray shirt, Jesse was just crossing from the barn to his house when they pulled into his graveled driveway. When he saw the long entourage, he stopped and stared with wide eyes and a crinkled forehead. At the noisy rattle of the harness and wagon, Sam came running from the chicken coop. Becca was startled to see a little black-and-white puppy bounding at the boy’s heels. Like his father, Sam gaped in surprise at the buggy and wagon. But when he saw Becca, he grinned and ran straight toward her.

  “Guder mariye.” Dawdi Zeke waved a wrinkled hand in the air. Jakob hopped down off the wagon first, then reached up a supporting arm to help his wife and the elderly man down off the high seat.

  “Guder daag,” Jesse greeted them, a heavy dose of curiosity filling his eyes.

  Becca had stepped out of the buggy and greeted Sam.

  “Hallo! Do you have a new puppy?” she asked, eyeing the little furball who gave several shrill barks.

  Sam nodded and picked up the mutt, snuggling it close beneath his chin.

  “What have you named it?” she asked.

  Sam looked down and scuffed his booted feet against the damp gravel. He glanced nervously at Naomi, who still sat in the buggy.

  “Patches.” Jesse spoke nearby, looking a bit embarrassed. “I suggested he name the dog after the story in his book, and he acknowledged that he liked that.”

  Becca smiled up at him. “Ach, so you got him a dog. I’m glad. I’m sure that pleased Sam.”

  It was a statement, not a question. And she couldn’t have been happier. This gesture more than anything showed her what a kind, loving father Jesse really was inside. He’d been hurt and seemed all gruff and disapproving but Becca was quickly learning otherwise.

  She reached into the buggy to take the baby while Aunt Naomi and Ruby hopped down. As the men spoke together, her ears were tuned to every bit of conversation going on around her. A feeling of happiness hummed inside of her. Last night at supper, Aunt Naomi had suggested they have a work project today, to help Jesse and his son. And the entire familye had agreed it would be fun, as well as beneficial to the King familye. Becca had concurred.

  When she turned around, she caught Jesse staring at her. Something in his eyes told her he was both irritated and glad to see them here. His gaze swept over her, taking in the domestic scene as she cudd
led Chrissie close in her arms. Suddenly, Becca felt out of sorts and a rush of heat stained her face. She hoped he didn’t think this was her idea and she was being forward. Though she’d been over to his farm three times this past week to tutor Sam, she didn’t want Jesse to believe she was interested in him romantically. Because she wasn’t. No, absolutely not.

  Deciding to let the men take the lead, she bounced the baby on her hip and waited.

  “What brings you here to my place so early on a Saturday morning?” Jesse asked Jakob and Dawdi Zeke.

  Jakob stepped forward to explain, his smile wide, his tone filled with a pleasantness that none of them could deny. “You’ve been a member of our Gmay for over three months now. Though you’ve never asked any of us for help, we understand you need some repairs done around your place. We know you can do the work over time, but it’s winter now and some of the chores should be done immediately. If you’ll allow us to assist you, the women will paint the inside of your house while us men repair your leaky roof and broken fence posts. Then you’ll be ready to buy the livestock you need. And later, the women have prepared a nice lunch for us all to enjoy. We’re here at your disposal, so use us well.”

  Jesse frowned and Becca held her breath. He hesitated, looking at all of them. They waited. No one said a word. But it was obvious they were hoping he would agree. Finally, it was Dawdi Zeke who broke the silence.

  “Ach, of course he’ll use us. We’re here to work and that’s what we’ll do.” The elderly man hobbled over to the back of the wagon and lifted out a silver toolbox. Without waiting for an invitation, he shambled toward the house.

  “Where’s your ladder?” he called over his shoulder in a commanding voice.

  That spurred everyone into action. The men and Reuben hurried after him while the women gathered up their paintbrushes. Sam stayed close beside Becca. He clicked his fingers and the puppy scampered after him. She was surprised to see that he’d trained the dog to follow him with just a snap of his fingers.