“I’m sorry about Sovilla,” Elizabeth said.
Johannes shook his head. “I didn’t come to talk about that. I wanted to know what we’re going to do about Lovina.”
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked. “It will take time. She has to heal. The memories will come back when they come back—”
“Does she know that she spent a year living English?” Johannes asked.
Elizabeth glanced around the table. They were all silent.
“No,” Elizabeth said. “We didn’t tell her that. We were hoping that she’d . . . remember us first, and not that year.”
“Is it possible to keep that secret?” Johannes asked.
“We don’t know, but if she can at least remember her Amish life first, it might give her what she needs to stay home with us,” Isaiah replied.
“Here’s an idea . . .” Bethany said, speaking up for the first time. “Of all of us, I think she’ll remember Johannes first. She loved him—yah, she left, but that was because of Abe.”
“She broke it off with me,” Johannes said.
“But she doesn’t remember that,” Bethany replied. “What if... now, just for argument’s sake, what if we tell her that Johannes is her fiancé still, and we let her remember the good times first?”
“Lie to her?” Isaiah said, frowning.
“Yah,” Elizabeth said. “Isaiah, you and I have both said that she’s lucky she can forget some of this.... If Lovina could experience those sweet times again, we can fill her in on what really happened later. But this is our chance to give our sister what she needs to stay.”
“I’m not taking advantage of her,” Johannes said curtly.
“Of course not,” Bethany replied. “You be the perfect gentleman. You take her for walks, talk to her, remind her of the good times. But I really do think she’ll remember you first, Johannes. Just speaking as a woman. We can tell her that considering her accident, the wedding is off, so there would be no pressure on her in that respect . . .”
“I agree with Bethany,” Elizabeth said. “This is for Lovina. She’s frustrated. She’s confused, and too much has changed around here to be a comfort to her. The one who hasn’t changed”—Elizabeth looked up at Johannes hopefully—“is you.”
They were all silent, and Johannes looked around the table.
“If she loved you again,” Isaiah said slowly, “if she remembered you and fell back in love . . . would you want to be with her?”
Johannes swallowed. “Yah. I don’t think I can just stop loving her anyway.”
They were silent, watching him, waiting for him to come to a decision.
“You all want this?” Johannes asked.
One by one, they nodded.
“Okay . . .” Johannes sucked in a breath. “For Lovina. But you have my word that I won’t take any advantage. And if her feelings for me don’t come back within a few weeks, we end this—and we tell her the truth. Is that a deal? I don’t think my heart could take any longer than that.”
“I think that’s fair,” Isaiah replied. “Let’s try it at least.”
The conversation turned to other things—Abe’s return, Lovina’s old friends and how they’d react to her return—and then Mo started to cry upstairs and Bethany went to check on him. Her sibling would have the ones they loved at their sides, and she was happy for them, but she was also grieving her own loss.
Elizabeth brought the men a plate of muffins to the table, and then she went toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Isaiah asked, looking up.
“Just getting some fresh air,” she replied.
The men turned back to their conversation, and Elizabeth headed out onto the porch, letting the cool night air embrace her. She was tired from the day, from the exhaustion of other people’s heartbreak, and she needed a few minutes with her own.
She’d hardly had a chance to process her own emotions, and she’d been working so hard at trying to keep her feelings for Solomon under control that when the pressure of people around her lifted, she felt a yearning for him so powerful that it nearly rocked her.
I love him, she prayed. And I don’t care if he’s considered noble and good by anyone else, I love him . . . and I know what’s inside him . . .
She headed down the steps, away from the soft glow of the windows and let out a slow breath. Tonight was too late to go find him—it was dark out, and dangerous for a woman alone—but tomorrow morning she could try. At least Bridget might be able to send her in the right direction.
Was he missing her, too?
Horses’ hooves clopped through the night air, and she saw the bounce of lanterns as a buggy turned into their drive. She froze—who would come out here this late? And then she heard a voice she knew . . .
“Whoa,” Solomon said, reining the horses in.
He hadn’t seen her, and she watched as he hopped down from the buggy, paused at the horses’ heads, and then started toward the house. He walked with the easy gait of a strong man, and she felt her heart speed up in her chest. Was he here for her?
“Sol?” she said softly.
His boots scraped as he stopped and turned. “Lizzie?”
He spotted her then in the darkness, and he crossed the few yards between them and pulled her into his arms. She lifted her face, and when his lips came down over hers, she slipped her arms around his neck. He smelled like hay and sunshine and hard work. He felt so warm and solid and strong, and when he pulled back from the kiss, she looked up at him, her breath bated.
“Did you come to see my brother?” she whispered.
“What?” Solomon laughed softly. “No, I didn’t come to see your brother. . . .” He shook his head. “I missed you.”
“Me too,” she whispered. “So much.”
“Look—” Solomon stepped back, catching her hand. “I need to talk to you about something. The last time we talked, I asked you to go Englisher with me, and that was wrong. It was stupid. So I have to tell you that I’m not leaving. I figured out what I need to stay here, and it’s to contribute something. And I do have something this community needs desperately—experience beyond the fence. I can tell people exactly how easy it is to get into trouble, and how hard it is to get back out—”
“You’ll stay?” she breathed.
“Yah.” He smiled down at her. “I’m staying. The bishop gave me some work today, and he’s going to hire me to drive the milk from his farm to the cheese factory. I think it’s a good job—it’ll keep me away from people enough that they can’t worry about me too much, but I could build up a bit of a business that way. That and selling produce in town, and slowly buying a few cows, and—” His voiced faded away. “I’m going to have a life here, Lizzie.”
“That’s wonderful,” she whispered.
“Thing is,” he went on, “I don’t want to do this without you. And I know I don’t have much to offer. I don’t have a great reputation, or much to give you material comfort, or . . .” He swallowed. “Lizzie, I love you. I’ll work to provide the best I can. I’ll be faithful and true. I’d just be so grateful to come home to you . . . I mean—” He stopped again. “Lizzie, please don’t go.”
She shook her head. “I’m not leaving.”
“No?” He laughed in relief. “Really?”
“I was talking to Sovilla today, and she made a very good point about what keeps a woman warm at night, and it isn’t a soaring reputation, although it might be nice,” she said, and she put her hand against his warm chest, feeling the solid beat of his heart. “It’s love. And I don’t think I’ll ever love another man like I love you. If you’re staying—”
Solomon pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again. This time his kiss was strong and insistent, and she leaned into it. Then he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.
“Then marry me,” he whispered. “Please . . . Let’s get married, and have kinner, and I’ll work my fingers to the bone to provide for all of you. I’ll prove that you made the r
ight choice—I promise you that. We’ll have that good reputation. We’ll build it together, and it’ll be worth the work. But marry me.”
Those were the words she’d been waiting for, and she nodded. Solomon froze, his gaze locked on hers. “Yah?”
“Yah!”
He picked her up in his strong arms and swung her around, and then he kissed her again, just as the side door opened and the light from inside spilled out onto the porch, revealing her brother standing there.
“Lizzie?” he called.
Elizabeth looked up at Solomon, laughing breathlessly. “Are you willing to face my brother?”
“I’ve faced worse,” Solomon replied with a grin.
“Don’t count on it,” she murmured, but she laughed and, hand in hand, they went up toward the house where Isaiah was waiting.
Elizabeth would marry Solomon Lantz, and she might not have quite the life she’d imagined for herself all those years—she’d have something deeper, and sweeter, and so much better. She’d have her Amish husband, and she’d have a man whose strength and tenderness could make her heart stop altogether in her chest....
Would the Amish community of Bountiful look at him with respect in their eyes? Would they defer to his opinions? Maybe not for a very long time. But she would gaze at her husband with respect, because she knew the man Solomon Lantz was, the strength he had, and the love he bore for her. He was worthy of all their respect, but if he could be happy with just hers for a little while, he’d have it and more.
They’d have a proper Amish wedding where they’d be joined before Gott, and Solomon Lantz would have her heart for life. And somehow, looking up into his adoring eyes, she knew that whatever they faced would be easier together.
There was nowhere safer, nowhere warmer or more satisfying, than in Solomon Lantz’s arms.
The Preacher's Daughter Page 27
