Billionaires Runaway Bride

by Claire Adams

  "You'll make such a good wife," I said as I stepped up beside her and grabbed a towel. "Much better than I ever would have."

  "Oh, Grace, you're not giving up are you?" she asked as she rinsed the last of the plates. "You're still young, and you can still come back and be baptized, you know. Mamm and Dat always hoped you would."

  "I think it's safe to say that I'm not going to find a husband in Corner Grove," I said grimly. "I'm just happy that you're happy and that you've found someone who will be good to you."

  "And I to him," Verity said smiling. We stood next to one another silently lost in our memories of Mamm and Dat until Danny nudged me and signed that he was going outside to tend to the garden.

  "Okay, but don't go too far!" I called as he ran out the back door. Too late, I yelled, "And don't let the door slam!"

  The noise of the screen door slamming into the frame echoed through the kitchen and out into the backyard.

  "Too late," Verity laughed. "He never remembers to close it quietly. It drove Mamm to the edge of madness. You know, she'd asked Dat to find a way to make him remember, but Dat just told her that boys will be boys and to let him be."

  "I miss them," I said softly.

  "I know; I do, too," Verity said taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.

  "What would Mamm have done with this English man?" I asked knowing full well what she would have done before I asked.

  "I think you know," she replied. "We're doing it."

  "I'm worried that he's really hurt, Verity," I said pulling my hand away and folding the towel that hung over my shoulder. "Hitting his head on the kitchen floor did not help things."

  "I think he's okay," she said trying to project the confidence I wasn't feeling. "Yesterday, after the accident, he was conscious and talking to us as we pulled him out, and then he walked across the road to the house. I didn't think he'd suffered anything very severe."

  "But what's wrong with him now?" I asked. "He's groggy and talking like he's drunk."

  "Maybe he's got a concussion?" she said. "I don't know if those show up right away, but it might be what's ailing him."

  "We can't keep him here," I said. "He's an outsider, and he's obviously made Uncle Amos upset."

  "I think he's kind of nice," Verity said. "And he's very handsome."

  "Verity, you know as well as I do that this is going to cause gossip," I said in the sternest voice I could muster.

  "Oh Grace, why are you so worried about what everyone else says if you know in your heart you're doing the right thing?" she asked, leaving me looking for the words to break the news to her.

  "Because we can't afford it right now," I finally said. "Verity, the store is in big trouble and I'm not sure I can save it."

  My sister turned and looked at me for a long time before she reached out and took my hands in hers and said, "It's God's will, Gracie."

  "No, it's not," I replied shaking my head. "It's bad business and we're going to have to find a way to turn it around or we're going to lose the farm, too."

  "I have faith in you, Grace," she said squeezing my hands as she looked at me. "Mamm and Dat trusted you, and so do I. You'll find a way to make it work."

  I nodded, but said nothing. Verity's calm faith in God was not going to soothe me, and I could feel the fear beginning to solidify in the pit of my stomach as I wondered whether I could find a way to fix everything.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adam

  I woke up on the couch with a strange man leaning over me pressing a stethoscope to my chest and nodding to himself.

  "Mr. Wallace," he said as he raised one of my eyelids and shined a very bright light into my eye. "Mr. Wallace, can you hear me?"

  "Yes, get that light out of my eyes, will you?" I grunted as I swiped at his hand. He backed away and stood just out of reach. "Jesus, I just got lightheaded, there's no reason to call out the cavalry."

  "I'm not the cavalry, Mr. Wallace, just Doc Johnson," he said as he held out a hand. A generous assessment of his bald head, round glasses, and old-fashioned medical case made me guess that the man was in his mid-seventies. "I think the knock you took to your head yesterday caused a concussion. That's what caused you to pass out this morning."

  "Gee, thanks Doc," I said sarcastically as I pushed myself up to a seated position. "Not like I couldn't have figured that out myself."

  "No need for sarcasm, young man," the doctor said cheerfully. "What you need is some rest so that you can recover. Do you remember what happened that caused the concussion?"

  "Of course I do! I was..." I trailed off as I tried to remember how I'd ended up on this couch. There was something flickering around the edges of my memory, but the more I tried to catch it, the further away it seemed. I looked up at the doctor as I tried to come up with an explanation. Finally, I remembered, "I was in an accident and the family who lives in this house took care of me last night and then fed me breakfast this morning."

  "That's okay, don't push yourself," he said patting my shoulder. "It's not uncommon to have some temporary memory loss in the hours or even days following an accident. You probably pushed yourself too hard this morning and the combination of heat and humidity caused you to pass out."

  "I had a meeting," I said as I continued to try and pull the memory from the recesses of my brain. It felt like something I'd once known but had forgotten, and that was frustrating. I could remember sliding off the road into the ditch.

  "You are right, you were in a car accident, Mr. Wallace," Doc Johnson said. "You crashed your car, a lovely Mustang by the way, into the ditch across the road. The Miller children brought you in and kept you overnight."

  "Ah yes, Danny and Honor and...the other two," I finished up trying to remember the other girls' names.

  "Grace and Verity are in the kitchen preparing lunch," he said. "I'd advise you to eat something and I’m going to have the girls wake you up every few hours to check your cognitive skills. How is your head right now? Any pain or buzzing sounds?"

  "Not now, but there was some earlier, I think," I said trying to put the pieces together. "Yes, there was! Earlier at the breakfast table. I heard a buzzing sound like a plane flying overhead! Then I stood up from the table and..."

  "You passed out and you've got quite the goose egg on the side of your head!" Doc Johnson said with a smile.

  "Yeah, I've got a headache," I said raising a hand to the spot where it hurt the most and winced when my fingers probed the lump.

  "You're going to be okay, but I'd advise you to rest as much as you can for the next couple of days. I'll call in a prescription for pain medication, but I think you might be fine without it," the doctor said as he packed his equipment into his bag. "You don't seem to have broken any bones nor have you cracked your skull open, so I don't think you need to go to the hospital, but I'm going to tell the girls to keep an eye on you for the next week or so."

  "Week? I need to get home!" I protested as I pushed myself up off the couch. My head throbbed, so I lay back down.

  "Oh, Mr. Wallace, I think you're going to be here in Corner Grove for a spell," Doc Johnson laughed. "Your car was almost totaled and they're going to have one heck of a time getting the parts they'll need to get it back in running condition."

  The doctor picked up his bag and walked into the kitchen, waving to me as he disappeared through the doorway. I tried to get up from the couch, but the pain knocked me back down.

  After a while, Grace came into the room with a cool towel and placed it on my forehead. The feeling of her cool hand on my skin stirred something in me and as I looked up at her, I noticed that she had a small scar over one eyebrow. I wondered how she'd gotten it, but before I could ask she said, "We'll bring you some lunch in here, Mr. Wallace. Doc said you shouldn't be up and about much right now. Maybe in a few days we can take you into town to check on your car; meanwhile, we'll do our best to care for you."

  "Thank you, Grace," I said as I looked up into her eyes and tried to smile. She nodded and then
quickly turned and went back to the kitchen, leaving me on the couch wondering how I was going to sell the project if I was stuck here in this house.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Grace

  "Did Doc Johnson come over?" Honor asked as she walked through the back door and set a basket of eggs down on the floor near the door before tossing a handful of papers on the table.

  "Honor, where have you been?" I asked. "You've been gone forever!"

  "I've been doing what you asked!" she shot back crossly. Her face was red and sweaty, and her kapp was askew, but that was par for the course when it came to Honor. "Plus, I had to take care of the animals, or did you forget that we live on a farm?"

  Honor was a tomboy at heart and loved nothing more than to run barefoot through the backfields helping Dat plough or accompanying Mamm as she worked in the garden. Her stubbornness made it almost impossible to tell her what to do, but it also meant that she refused to give up on things where others would throw up their hands and walk away. She was tough, but she also had a good heart and meant well.

  "No, I did not forget," I said crossly. I picked up the papers and began to stack them neatly. "Yes, Doc came by and checked Adam out. He said Adam needs a few days to recover, so we should probably get him back to the Yoder place."

  Honor shook her head as she stood by the door looking like she wanted to duck back outside and join Danny in the garden. She was the moody Miller sister. The one who would suddenly go silent for days only to explode in laughter at something only she found funny or lose her temper at an injustice that she could no longer bear. We'd all learned to give Honor a wide berth when she was in her quiet phase. Dat had nicknamed her the percolator, saying that what she was doing was simply brewing her ideas.

  "So, what did you find out?" I asked as I surreptitiously tried to read the papers I was stacking.

  "It's the presentation he gave to Uncle Amos," Honor said as she walked to the sink and washed her hands.

  "Honor!"

  "What? Don't tell me you're not trying to read them, Grace," she said as she dried her hands on her dress.

  "Use a towel, Honor Miller!" I scolded as I did my best not to look at the papers in my hand.

  "Grace, stop being such a priss," Honor said. "I called the garage and they're coming to get the car this afternoon. Then I called Yoder's and told Mrs. Yoder that Adam had an accident and that we'd get him back to the B&B by tonight. But she said he'd only paid for two nights and she's got a group of quilters coming in from out of town for the week, so he's going to have to stay here with us while they fix his car. She said she'd pack up his things and send Gabe over with his suitcase after supper."

  "Oh no," I groaned as I slammed the papers down on the table. "Honor, how could you?"

  "What did I do?" she said defensively. Seconds later she realized why I was upset and grumbled, "Well, don't blame me! It's not my fault you have to deal with the messes you left."

  I said nothing as I thought about how to avoid being home when Gabe came to deliver Adam's suitcase. It was bad enough that I felt myself powerfully attracted to the stranger convalescing on our living room couch, but now I'd have to deal with a blast from the past that I'd rather have left there. I'd arranged to take the day off from the store so that I could help with the summer plowing, and Danny had already hook Bella and Blackie to the plow, so there was no easy way for me to make my escape.

  "I'm sorry, Grace. Really I am," Honor quietly repeated as she anxiously twisted her skirt with one hand leaving damp wrinkles in the fabric when she let go.

  "It's okay, it's not your fault that Gabe hasn't been able to let me go after all this time," I said sinking down into a chair at the table. "I'll just have to deal with it the way Mamm would have: politely but firmly."

  "Oh right, you'll do that for sure," Honor said rolling her eyes. "Just like all the other times you dealt with him openly and honestly rather than packing up and running away. Uh huh."

  "Honor," I warned.

  "Thin ice?" she asked pushing her back against the screen door readying herself to escape if she needed to.

  "Definitely." I nodded as I stood up, grabbed the stack of papers, and walked toward the living room where Adam lay on the couch covering his eyes with one hand. Quietly, I asked, "Are you okay? Do you need anything for the pain?"

  "No, I'm okay, just a little woozy," he said moving his hand away so that he could look at me. "And trying to figure out how I'm going to do business without my phone."

  "Oh, yeah, that's a tough one," I said thinking about my own phone, which was tucked in my purse upstairs.

  "You know about cell phones?" he said sounding surprised.

  "Yes, we do get news from the city about modern inventions," I said dryly. His assumptions about the ignorance of people in the Amish community irritated me, and I tossed the stack of papers onto his chest saying, "Honor fished these out of your car. The garage will be here to tow it this afternoon. If you need a phone, you can ride into town with them, if you feel up to it, and make a call. Otherwise, the only phone available in the part of town is in the booth at the end of the road."

  "Thank you, Grace," he said with a note of sincerity that caught me off guard. "I know this is a huge inconvenience for your family and I'm sorry. I can go back to the Yoder's place, if the two truck driver will give me a ride."

  "No, actually you can't," I said looking down into his warm amber eyes. "Mrs. Yoder said you only paid for two nights, and there are attendees coming to the quilting convention arriving today, so she's booked up for the next two weeks."

  "What?" he said, rising off the couch and sending the papers flying to the floor. "She never said anything about that to me when I checked in!"

  "Did you tell her you'd be here all week?" I asked.

  "No, I’d only paid her for two nights," he admitted, sinking back down on the couch and dropping his head into his hands. "This is beyond messed up. I've got sales calls to make and I need to be able to call my business partner and let him know what's going on. This is a disaster!"

  "Oh, c'mon, it can't be that bad," I said trying to pull him out of the downward spiral. "The garage will fix the car and I can drop you off at your sales calls on my way into the store. You can call your partner from the phone booth or I'm sure the businesses you're visiting will let you make a call or two."

  "You really do not get it, do you?" he said looking up at me as he shook his head. He ran a hand through is messy, dark curls and muttered, "But then again, why would you?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked stiffening at the implication he was making.

  "Oh, don't go getting all wound up about your Amish culture," he said sighing. "I'm not trying to insult you, I'm just saying that you live a very different life than I do so it's not reasonable to expect that you'd understand the challenges I face right now."

  "Ha!" I exhaled loudly thinking about all the work that would be waiting for me once I returned to Riser Tech and my air-conditioned office on the 27th floor. I knew I should say something about my other life, but every time Adam opened his mouth and said something about the Amish, he managed to assume that was utterly wrong. It angered me that someone so worldly could be so ignorant, but then I also recognized that I was in the unique position of straddling both worlds and that it was unreasonable to expect that he would have the same understanding about my community as I did. Still, Amish or not, it annoyed me that he didn't take me seriously, and my reaction was to stubbornly refuse to reveal the part of my life that existed outside of my Amish community.

  "What?"

  "You think that because I live on a farm and work at a grocery store, I have no idea about what kinds of stresses you face?" I shot back.

  "Well, yeah, kind of," he said as he looked up at me again. Something in his eyes told me that the kinder thing to do right now was to back down, and simply try and help. "I mean, I guess there's lots of things I don't know about what you do, but it seems less relevant right now."

&n
bsp; "Fine," I said through clenched teeth holding back my urge to lecture him about what was relevant and what was not. "What do you need us to do to help you?"

  "You've already done more than enough," he said shaking his head as he bent down and gathered the loose sheets of paper that were spread across the floor. For a long time, he was silent, but when he looked up at me, I was shocked to see that there were tears in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away and said, "Ever feel like the whole world is just crashing down around you and you're powerless to stop it?"

  "I do," I said nodding as I held his gaze. "Just about every single day."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Adam

  After lunch, while we were waiting for the tow truck to arrive, Honor walked with me as I limped down to the end of the road where a large, red phone booth sat on the edge of an English family's yard. She explained to me that while it was not okay for the Amish to have phones in their houses, it was okay to use the phone in the booth. I tried to wrap my mind around what it meant to be Amish in a world that was almost completely driven by technology.

  "Do you like living here?" I asked after deciding that being blunt was better than digging around the edges.

  "Eh, it's okay," Honor shrugged as she kicked a rock down the road. "I liked it better before."

  "Before what?" I asked. I was trying to keep up with her, but my battered body rebelled forcing me to limp along behind her.

  "Before Mamm and Dat died," she replied over her shoulder without elaborating.

  "I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, assuming that the Miller children had been orphans for a while given the fact that none of them seemed particularly sad. "How long ago did it happen?"

  "Let's see, what's today?" she asked as she looked out across the fields and did the math. "Two weeks."