by Mary Davis
Deborah crouched and put her finger to her lips again. “Shh. Let’s not tell anyone.”
“I want the book!” Sarah said in a louder-than-necessary voice.
Deborah glanced around, but no one looked their way. Then she grabbed a carved wooden cat and held it toward her littlest sister. “Would you like me to buy you this kitty?”
Sarah’s almond-shaped eyes widened. “Ja. I want the kitty.” And with that, Sarah was both distracted and pacified.
Bethany rang up her sale, including the fabric, book and wooden cat. She held the novel in her hand. “Have you read this author before?”
Deborah shook her head, hoping Bethany didn’t look too closely at the cover.
“I hear this author’s more accurate with the Amish details than most of these writers. I don’t know that I believe she’s actually an Amish woman. No real Amish woman would write a novel.”
Well, the cover was more accurate. A little too accurate. If Deborah modeled when no other Amish would, she supposed anything was possible. She wanted to snatch the book from Bethany’s hands and stuff it back into her bag.
“You’ll have to tell us how you like it.” Bethany finally released it.
“You’re buying a book.” Amos stood right beside her.
Deborah put her hand over her head on the cover. “Ja. These can be entertaining. It’s fun to pick out the inaccuracies and to get an idea of how Englishers view us.” She pushed it toward the opening of her cloth shopping bag hanging on her arm, but the corner kept getting caught on the top edge and the handles.
“Careful,” Bethany said. “You don’t want to damage the cover.”
Oh, but she did want to damage the cover. She wanted to make it unrecognizable. She couldn’t let Amos—or anyone else, for that matter—identify her. Finally, the book cooperated and dropped safely to the bottom. Deborah quickly shoved her fabric on top of it and paid.
Amos frowned at her. “Your face is red. Are you feeling all right?”
She nodded quickly. “It’s just a little warm in here. I’ll wait in the buggy.” She hurried out into the cold and took a deep breath.
That was close.
Chapter Six
At breakfast the next morning, Amos wiped the last of the gravy off his plate with a biscuit. He was going to get fat if he kept eating like this, but the Miller ladies cooked so well, and there was always plenty of food for him to eat until he was full. He wasn’t used to there being leftovers, but there generally was.
Bartholomew took a swig of his coffee. “You’ll leave right after breakfast.”
Amos swallowed hard to get his last bite down around the rising lump in his throat. “I don’t think I should go. You’re still in a cast.” A new cast, in Ordnung-approved black. He’d had to color the foot portion of his former bright green one that showed below his pant leg with a black marker.
Bartholomew smiled. “Though you’ve been a huge help and put my mind at ease, we will survive one day and night without you. Don’t get me wrong. I deeply appreciate all you’ve done around here. My new hayloft floor looks quite sturdy, but it’s important for you to visit your family. I’m sure they miss you.”
Amos wasn’t so sure about that. Work tended to be light around the Burkholder farm, and even lighter in the wintertime. “I will head off soon.” Though he was reluctant. He glanced at Deborah.
She piped up. “Vater? It’s quite a ways and cold out. Maybe one of us could drive him home so it doesn’t take him all day.”
“Fine idea. Did you have someone in mind?”
Amos liked the idea of a long ride with Deborah.
“What about Miriam?” Deborah seemed pleased with herself.
He was unexpectedly disappointed, even though he supposed a ride with Miriam would be quite pleasant, as well.
Miriam sneezed. “I think I’m coming down with a cold. It wouldn’t be a gut idea to be in a cold buggy for hours. Why don’t you go, Deborah?”
Bartholomew reached for his crutches. His shoulder had healed well enough in the last little while for him to use them on a limited basis. “Then it’s settled. Deborah, you go. Take the trap.”
The open, two-wheeled buggy would be appropriate, since it would just be the two of them.
“I wanna go,” Sarah pleaded.
Teresa patted her youngest daughter’s arm. “Not this time, dear. You stay here with me. We can bake some cookies.”
“Cookies!”
Amos pushed away from the table. “I’ll hitch up the buggy.”
Deborah smiled at him. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
He had the buggy hitched by the time Deborah came out lugging a heavy, thick canvas bag. He took it from her. “What’s in here?”
“Warmed bricks for our feet and a warm quilt to cover our legs.”
He situated the bricks on the floor and helped her in.
“I’m sorry Miriam couldn’t go.”
He wasn’t. But was Deborah truly sorry she had to go?
He put the buggy into motion and pulled up on the road. “When this was your idea, why did you suggest your sister go? Do you not like my company?”
“Ne, that’s not it at all. I like your company very much. I mean, I enjoy time with you. Oh, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
She was cute when she was flustered. What had caused her to sputter? Him? “So, why your sister?”
“When you first arrived, I thought you were interested in her. Weren’t you? Aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe at first.”
“But not anymore?”
“Ne.” Someone else occupied his thoughts even if he didn’t want her to.
The pleasant drive to the other side of the district took over two hours. As Amos drove into the yard, he felt like a foreigner returning home. This was only the third time he’d seen his family since he’d gone to work at the Miller farm. The other two times had been at the biweekly church services.
Bartholomew had talked Amos into this overnight trip home. He hadn’t wanted to go. But he could protest only so much before Bartholomew would have suspected he didn’t want to go home. This was going to be a long few hours until bed and then again in the morning. Hopefully, his family wouldn’t sense his reluctance to be home. He would return to the Millers’ with them after church tomorrow.
He parked the buggy out front. “Come in and meet my parents,” he suggested as he helped Deborah down.
His mutter rushed outside into the cold without a coat. “Amos!” She hugged him, then turned to Deborah. “You must be one of the Miller girls. I’m sorry, but I don’t know your family well enough to know which one you are.”
“Mutter, this is Deborah.”
“I’m pleased to meet you.” His mutter hugged Deborah, as well. “I’m Karen.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, too, Karen. Or rather, meet you again.”
“I think I remember you have older sisters who are twins, then some other sisters and the sweet baby is Sarah.”
“That’s right.”
From the barn came his vater and two brothers, who each shook his hand in greeting.
Amos gritted his teeth. “Vater, this is Deborah Miller.” He turned to her. “My vater, Joseph. This is Daniel and Titus.”
Mutter waved her hand in the air. “Come in out of the cold for a slice of pie and a cup of hot tea,” his mutter said to Deborah. “It will be nice to have some female company.”
Daniel elbowed Amos. “I assume you’re going to be courting Deborah. But what about the others? Are any of the others being courted?”
His brother’s question surprised Amos. He hadn’t thought him interested yet. “The two oldest are being courted.” He wouldn’t say that they would be engaged this fall, as that was the family’s business to announce after the engagements were official. �
��As far as I know Miriam isn’t being courted, nor Joanna, but she’s still a little young.” Amos wouldn’t say that he wasn’t courting Deborah, nor did he plan to court her. There were plenty of other young ladies for his brother to consider.
Vater clasped Amos on the shoulder, causing him to tense. “Mutter, you and Deborah go on inside. I need to talk to Amos for a minute.”
Amos watched Deborah disappear into the house.
“Daniel, Titus, go finish the work in the barn.” Vater waved his hand for them to leave.
Why couldn’t Amos leave, as well? “What do you need to talk to me about?”
“You’ve had some time to think while at the Millers’. Have you made up your mind what job you want to pursue?”
Ja, Amos had done a lot of thinking, but not about what his vater referred to. “It’s a big decision.” Bigger than his vater realized.
“I’m sorry this farm isn’t big enough to divide three ways, but don’t let that stop you from making this decision. Don’t put it off.”
Amos wasn’t putting off going into the Englisher world. Not really. True, he likely could have left by now, but the Millers really did need help. And he’d said he would help. He was a man of his word. When Jacob said to go, Amos would find someone else to help the Millers and be gone. He could do that. Couldn’t he? Something twisted inside him.
Vater and Amos joined Mutter and Deborah inside. Amos set the bricks on the stove to warm up before Deborah made the drive back home. He supposed he could have driven himself with the Millers’ buggy and returned it tomorrow when he went to church. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Maybe because a part of him wanted to spend time with Deborah.
* * *
The following morning, Amos’s desire to get to church churned inside him like a whirlwind. His family had all said that they had missed him and included him as though he hadn’t been gone for a month. As gut as it was to visit his family, seeing Deborah—all the Millers—would make him happy. He looked forward to returning home with them.
When his family arrived at the host home, he immediately scanned the crowd outside for the Millers. He didn’t find any of them. They must not have arrived yet.
He studied each buggy as it pulled into the Beilers’ yard. He and his brothers had shown up early to help set up. Church was due to start in a few minutes. Where were the Millers? He knew he shouldn’t have left them. With Bartholomew still recovering, they needed a man around. They needed him.
Then at last, a final buggy rolled down the road with a horse clopping briskly in front of it. Floyd.
He met the buggy where it parked.
Hannah sat at the reins.
“I’m sorry,” Amos said. “I should have come by your place to help you all.”
Hannah smiled. “That wouldn’t have likely gotten us here any faster. Our issues were beyond anyone’s control.”
He could have at least helped. “You all head inside, and I’ll take care of Floyd.”
Everyone piled out, and Sarah wrapped her chubby arms around his waist. “I missed you. Don’t ever go away again.”
He patted the girl’s back. “It couldn’t be helped, and I won’t be able to stay on your farm forever. I’ll have to leave sometime.” He sought out a glance from Deborah, and she graciously gave him one. Had she missed him? He felt drawn to her. What was it about her? There were things about her he didn’t know. There was more to her than the normal Amish-piety exterior. Could she be the forthright Amish woman he’d been looking for?
“I’ll help Amos,” Deborah said.
His heart cheered.
The others tromped off. Hannah had her arm looped through her mutter’s and seemed to be whispering in her ear.
Amos worked on unhooking the harness from the buggy. “Where’s Miriam?”
Deborah’s smile slipped a little. “She’s at home. She was too sick to come.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” What had changed Deborah’s mood? He’d only asked about—“I only asked because she hadn’t been feeling well, not because I’m interested in her. You believe me, don’t you?”
She gazed at him with that wistful almost smile that made his heart do funny things. “Ja.”
The rest of the Millers filed inside while Amos and Deborah tended to Floyd and turned him out with the other horses in the field.
He escorted Deborah inside. She went up to sit with her sisters and her mutter, and he sat in the back with his brothers. Deborah sat on the outer end, almost as though she didn’t belong with the family. He understood the feeling of not quite belonging in one’s own family, or in the community.
After the service, Lydia left with Dr. Kathleen to look in on Miriam.
At the end of the afternoon, Amos hitched the horse back up and drove the Millers home.
He found he felt more comfortable with Deborah’s family than his own. They had different expectations of him and were grateful for all his work, instead of thinking of him as less capable because he was the youngest.
Later in the evening, Amos dug out the cell phone from where he’d stashed it under his cot.
The kittens, now about five weeks old, climbed out of their box, up the side of the quilt that hung down to the floor and onto the cot. He petted the three that faced him and meowed. They were very cute, and he enjoyed watching them change from day to day. One of the kittens leaped from the cot to his thigh and climbed up.
Once the kitten had settled himself on Amos’s shoulder, he pressed a button on the phone to light it up. A text from Jacob waited. He clicked the message open.
How are you doing? Will have a place for you to stay soon.
Amos hit Reply. Doing well. Soon will be fine. Still needed at the Mi—
“Hallo,” a female voice said behind him.
Amos fumbled the phone and then shoved it inside the front of his shirt before turning around. “Deborah.” He should have closed the door to his small living quarters.
“I wish we had a bigger space for you than this.” Deborah stood in the doorway.
“This is fine. It takes less to heat.”
“It does seem toasty in there. Maybe a little too toasty. Your face is red.”
He didn’t doubt his face looked flaming hot, but it wasn’t from the heat. He’d almost been caught using an unauthorized device.
“How are the kittens doing?” She plucked one from his shoulder.
“They’re getting very energetic and don’t want to stay in their box anymore.” He sucked in a breath as another kitten suddenly attached itself to his back and proceeded to climb.
When the kitten appeared over his shoulder, Deborah laughed. “Do they do that a lot?”
Her laugh sent a thrill through him, making the needlelike claws worth it.
He thinned his lips and nodded. “I tried to stop them, but...” He shrugged. Like his growing feelings for the girl standing before him.
After Deborah left, Amos pulled the cell phone back out of his shirt. He hoped Deborah hadn’t noticed it there. He finished his text to his cousin and pressed Send.
If he was caught using an unapproved cell phone, he could be shunned. Then how would he help the Millers? He stashed the phone back under his cot, farther than he had before. What if someone came in here and found it? No one usually entered his quarters, that he knew of. Everyone respected this as his area.
But still, he needed to be careful.
Deborah would never understand and would be the first one to shun him.
The thought of her never talking to him again made his heart hurt.
Chapter Seven
After a shoot the following week, Deborah headed back across the field to the pond in the stand of trees. Once the fields were planted and growing, she wouldn’t be so noticeable tromping across them. She stashed her pack among the sycamore trees and covered
it with dry leaves. They were getting pretty shredded and small, more like confetti these days. When she prepared to make a dash for home, she stopped short and gasped. “Mutter!”
Busted!
She looked in one direction then the other. No one else was around.
Mutter walked back and forth and in circles at the edge of the pond.
Deborah hurried over to her. “Wh-what are you doing here?” Had Mutter seen her stow her change of clothes?
Mutter turned her gaze on Deborah with a confused glaze in her eyes. “I don’t know. Where am I?” She had the hem of her apron between her fingers and was pulling at it as though she was trying to pick something off it.
What was wrong with her? Was Mutter playing some sort of game? Had she seen Deborah and wanted her to confess? “Um, the pond? I was just taking a walk.”
“A walk.” Mutter blinked several times, then her face lit up in recognition. “Deborah.” She looked around. “What are we doing out here?”
Deborah knew what she was doing, but it was a little scary that Mutter didn’t know why she was here. Didn’t she know why she came? Did she realize Deborah had come from a different direction than from the house?
Mutter rubbed the sleeves of her dress.
That was when Deborah realized Mutter wasn’t wearing a coat. She took her mutter’s hands. Ice-cold. She quickly removed her own coat and manipulated her mutter’s arms into the sleeves. Though she didn’t cooperate, Deborah prevailed and fastened the buttons down the front. What had her mutter been doing out here in the cold without her coat?
“Thank you, dear. You’re so sweet.”
Deborah wrapped her arm around her and guided her in the direction of the house. Goose bumps rose on Deborah’s arms. The early-spring sun wasn’t strong enough to warm the air much.
Halfway between the pond and the house, Amos met up with them. “What are you doing out in the cold without a coat?”
“I gave mine to my mutter.”
Amos squinted at Mutter but didn’t comment on the coat. “Let’s get you two back where it’s warm.” He shucked off his coat and put it on Deborah. His warmth enveloped her.
