The wind increased, and Hope pressed her hands on her dress to keep it from wafting up. A stray drop of rain plopped on her forehead. And then another fell on her wrist.
“Ach,” Ruth said, looking at Dat. “You were right, Benjamin. Might be a storm coming after all.”
“Just a bit of rain,” said Abram.
At the rich timbre of his voice, Hope clasped her hands tightly in her lap. The drops stopped, and everyone settled back into quiet chatter for the rest of the drive.
****
During the worship singing, Hope closed her eyes and lost herself in the words of the songs. The hymns in the Ausbund always brought her comfort and a feeling of deep contentment.
O Lord Father, we bless thy name, Thy love and thy goodness praise; That thou, O Lord, so graciously have been to us always.
The words were drawn out, each syllable stretched long, every song taking nearly fifteen minutes to sing. Hope relaxed into each verse, her heart warm, and her mind at peace. For those minutes, she forgot about Abram and Josiah and Mary and her hurting ankle.
Mary nudged her, and Hope shifted and turned. “What?” she mouthed.
Hope followed Mary’s gaze across the room and saw Josiah watching them, his eyebrows raised. When he noticed them looking, he gave a slow smile. Hope glanced away. Despite herself, she snuck a glance at Abram who was staring at the floor.
Hope tried to lose herself in the song again, but the tension exuding from Mary stopped her. Her sister was perched on the bench like a glass jar about to shatter during canning. Hope scooted closer. “He was probably looking at you,” she murmured.
Mary squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head; she knew the truth.
Hope squirmed with the knowledge that Josiah had been staring at her. Why couldn’t it have been Abram watching her? What was so interesting on the floor anyway? Hope bowed her head. Why am I thinking of such things during worship? It is not fitting.
She had to control her thoughts and put them back on God where they belonged. She struggled through the rest of the worship, willing her mind to cooperate.
****
Hope wasn’t hungry when it was time for the meal. Instead, she wandered outside through the buggies, trying to regain the peace she’d felt earlier during the hymns. Her ankle ached, but she did her best to ignore it.
“Hope?”
At the sound of his voice, apprehension coursed through her. She turned to see Josiah approach her with his hat in his hand. A tremor near his mouth betrayed his nervousness.
“Hello, Josiah.”
“Are you staying for the youth singing this evening?”
She detected a slight catch in his voice.
“I usually do,” she answered. She loved the singing, but how could she enjoy herself that night knowing that even though Abram was so close, he might as well be a hundred miles away.
She bit her lip. Josiah wasn’t there to talk about Abram.
He continued, “I do have my own horse and buggy, but they’re back home with my folks. I’m sure Abram will lend me his if I ask.”
Hope tensed, knowing what was coming.
“I was wondering if you’d allow me to give you a ride home tonight. After the singing.” He let out his breath in a soft whoosh.
And there it was. Her invitation. She’d been waiting years for such an invitation. Emotion sent her pulses spinning, as the full realization of what this would mean settled in her heart. If she accepted, everyone would assume they were courting. Mary would never speak to her again. Abram would see her as unavailable.
A light sprinkle began to fall, and the soft drops landed on Hope’s lashes. She blinked them away and saw Josiah’s grip on his hat increase until his knuckles turned white. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she knew that accepting him was not God’s plan for her.
Josiah shuffled his feet in the dirt. “It’s all right. Never mind. Maybe another time.”
He put on his hat and turned to leave. As he pivoted, Hope saw Abram a few yards behind him. Abram’s broad shoulders were stiff and the look on his face was grim. Had he heard?
Josiah pushed past him and retreated.
Hope couldn’t bear the thought of another argument with Abram. Better not to talk at all. She swirled and began running through the increasing rain, dodging around the buggies, toward the Miller’s shed. The door hung open and she hurried through, not seeing a rake that had fallen from its hook. She lurched and tripped, and her weak ankle twisted. She collapsed in a heap. Pain shot up her leg, and she grabbed her foot, moaning. Tears splashed down her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes closed.
“You’re hurt. How bad is it?” Abram’s voice was thick with concern.
She opened her eyes to him kneeling beside her.
“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth.
“You’re not fine at all.”
Abram took off his jacket and folded it into a square. He placed it under her foot.
“I am too fine,” Hope repeated. Which, of course, she wasn’t. She didn’t know which hurt worse, her throbbing ankle or her throbbing heart.
Abram squatted back on his haunches and observed her. “So Josiah asked to drive you home after the singing. Are you going with him?”
Hope wiped at her tears and sniffed. His eyes didn’t move, and his scrutiny bore into her.
She stifled an inexplicable urge to burst into tears again. All she wanted was this man before her. All she wanted was to admit her love for him. And for him to love her back. But it wasn’t to be. She silently prayed for strength and courage. She shook her head, “No, I’m not going with him.”
Abram exhaled. “I’ll get your mamm and dat. You’ll need your ankle tended to.” He stood to go, and she panicked. She couldn’t let him leave. She had been wrong to run. They did need to talk.
“Wait.” She opened her mouth to say more, but a wave of embarrassment silenced her. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure what God wanted her to do. Was she taking things into her own hands?
Every inch of her being wanted to know why Abram had gone back to the Englischers. Every inch wanted to know why he hadn’t been baptized when he’d returned home from rumspringa? And was there an Englisch girl? Did he want to leave the community?
Each question burned across her face as Abram looked at her.
“You are wondering many things,” he said.
His voice was calm, his gaze steady. Hope thought she heard tenderness there, but she didn’t dare imagine it. Besides, Abram was right, she needed her dat to get her inside, and her mamm to tend to her ankle.
But what she really wanted was Abram to take her in his arms—Abram to carry her gently into the Miller house. Her cheeks grew warm with humiliation. She shouldn’t think such things.
Abram took her hand in his. “Hope?” he began.
Her eyes grew wide, and her skin started to tingle. “Jah?”
“May I take you home tonight after the singing?”
Her breath caught in her throat. And right there, right then, inside the muggy garden shed with her ankle pulsing in pain and tears drying on her cheeks, it was as if the sun had burst forth with dazzling beauty.
Laughter bubbled up inside her. “Jah, you can,” she whispered and gazed at him with wonder.
Abram helped her up, and she tottered a bit trying to balance on her good foot.
“Lean on me,” Abram said. “I’ll help you.”
His grip was strong and sure as he helped her hobble toward the house.
“There will be plenty of time for all your questions later,” he said. “And plenty of time for all my answers.”
They both heard the promise in his voice.
The End
Thank you for reading our Amish Days Book Bundle! I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. Would you like to continue the story of Hope and Abram from your bonus book? You can in Amish Days: Abram’s Plan. Here’s a sample for you:
At the top of the stairs, Hope paused and se
nt up a quick prayer of thanks. Abram was coming to supper that day, and the joy of seeing him never got old. Her heart stirred with gladness whenever she gazed into his dark charcoal eyes. Sometimes, when he moved close enough to brush against her, the strength of his arms and the set of his broad shoulders made her downright dizzy. Smiling, she took an extra moment to make sure all stray curls were tucked snugly under her kapp.
Satisfied all was in order, Hope began to descend the stairs when Mamm’s pained voice floated up from the living room below, “Nee! Benjamin, no!”
Hope caught her breath. All thoughts of Abram dropped from her mind, and she froze in place, listening.
“How could Priscilla be gone?” Mamm’s voice twisted with grief. “She was younger than me.”
Dat replied in a low murmur, his words muffled. Fear clenched Hope’s heart. Who was this Priscilla? And what was Dat doing in the house at this time of the morning?
“I’m sorry,” Aunt Ruth’s voice joined theirs. “Truly sorry, Elizabeth.”
“She had children?” Mamm asked.
“Two.” Dat’s heavy tread creaked across the plank floors, and Hope knew he was pacing, something he did only when highly disturbed.
“She was your sister,” Ruth said, as if stating a fact from the Almanac.
Hope’s eyes widened and a wave of shock gripped her. Mamm’s sister? That couldn’t be right. Mamm had two brothers—no sisters.
She grasped the rail, her fingers tightening like wire.
“Someone will have to go,” Dat said. “You need to go.”
“Nee!” Mamm cried. “I can’t. Don’t you understand? I can’t. She wouldn’t want me to.”
Dat groaned and the floorboards kept protesting.
Hope pressed her hand to her mouth. She shouldn’t be eavesdropping—it wasn’t proper. She forced herself away from the stairwell. Then she turned and darted across the hall to the bedroom she shared with her sister. Mary was changing the sheets. Her face was flushed, and unruly blond curls stuck to the nape of her neck.
“Mamm has a sister!” Hope blurted out.
Mary’s hands ceased moving, and she stared at Hope as if she’d gone daft. “What are you talking about?”
“And she died!”
Mary dropped two pillowcases onto the partially made bed and sank onto the folded quilt. “But how can someone die who never existed?”
“She did exist. I heard Dat and Mamm downstairs.”
“You were spying?”
“Nee, not on purpose. I heard them. We need to go down and ask.”
“You must’ve misunderstood.” Mary blinked, and confusion filled her blue eyes. “You’re not making sense.”
“I know that,” Hope answered, tension mounting in her voice. “I’m going downstairs to find out.”
Hope turned to go, and Mary hastened to follow. It was quiet below, and Hope wondered if everyone had left. But when they got down, their mamm sat slumped in the rocking chair with a stricken look on her face.
When she noticed her oldest daughters gaping at her, she jerked upright, straightened her apron, and headed for the kitchen.
“Mamm?” Hope questioned, hurrying after her. “Is everything all right?”
Mamm sniffed. “I’m going to start the stew. Mary, are the beds changed?”
“Almost.”
“Then go upstairs and finish.” Mamm pulled a large pot off the shelf.
Hope stepped close, her voice low. “I heard you, Mamm. I didn’t mean to, but I heard.”
A soft gasp escaped Mamm’s lips, and her spine seemed to fold in on itself. Hope reached out to grab her, but Mamm righted herself and stiffened.
“We have something to discuss with you girls tonight,” she said, her voice rigid.
Hope and Mary exchanged looks.
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More Hollybrook Amish Romance Books for your enjoyment:
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Sally’s Story #1: The Decision
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Amish Romance BOOK BUNDLE: Marian's Story: Amish Romance Boxed Set (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 20
