The Amish Cowboy's Homecoming
Page 28
Ack. It was Travis Cooper’s son—the young man who’d been with him when he’d dropped off Cincinnati. No wonder her stomach had taken a roll when she’d seen him. She hadn’t liked the way he’d leered at her then, nor did she like it now.
“Epically great,” Wade answered. “These are those guys who took Sin,” he said to his friends, displaying that same grin Grace remembered. “I told y’all about them, ‘member?” He paused for reaction, and after shooting an elbow into the boy next to him, they all started to snicker. “What’s your name again?”
“Isaac.” His voice was steady. Polite. They still had to remain in good standing with Wade’s family, after all. “And this is Grace Zook. Cincinnati is at her training farm.”
Wade’s gaze slid to Grace again. “Ah, yes. Grace. I sure do remember you. Say, you don’t mind if we just get in line with you, like we’re all together?”
Grace couldn’t help noting how long the queue was behind them. Wasn’t it cheating to allow Wade and his friends to cut the line like that? She wanted to speak up, but Wade’s aggression made her so anxious that she could only look down at her hands.
“Cool, thanks! Ha ha, this is much better, isn’t it?” Wade said, slipping in to stand right beside her before anyone gave him permission.
She shot Isaac a look, hoping he could read the unease in her eyes.
“I don’t want to be rude to them,” Isaac whispered to her in Pennsylvania Dutch.
“They’re the ones being rude,” Grace whispered back. “But he is Travis’s son. I suppose we shouldn’t stir anything up.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too. The line is moving; it won’t be much longer.”
Grace sent him a private little eye roll, hoping he was right.
“Jeez, y’all are being real impolite talking that gibberish language right in front of us.” Wade moved an inch toward Grace. “You’re not talking about me, are ya, sweetheart?”
“Grace, why don’t you go inside and check the flavors,” Isaac said in English, stepping between them. “They have different specials every day.” He leaned down to her. “I’ll try to get rid of them while you’re gone,” he added, again speaking Dutch. “So, Wade, what grade are you in? Are you graduating soon?”
Grace was grateful she was able to slip away, at least momentarily. She felt all kinds of awkwardness with the group of boys. Thank heaven for Isaac’s politeness and quick thinking. She’d witnessed him with Englishers on other occasions; he always seemed to find things in common with them and never failed to share opinions and somehow even form a quick bond. It was another of his natural talents.
She took her time noting that tonight’s special flavors of ice cream were coconut, double stuffed Oreo, and peanut brittle. Hoping to have given Isaac enough time to get Wade’s group to go to the back of the line, she meandered up the sidewalk, relieved to notice that the boys were gone. No, wait, the two friends were gone, but Wade was still there.
Not wanting to look silly by turning around again, Grace stood out of sight, pretending to read the signs on the side of the building, though close enough to hear their conversation—Wade’s voice certainly carried.
“You’re seriously not worried that she’ll mess it up?” Wade was saying.
“Grace is very skilled.”
“For a woman. Ha ha.”
Grace didn’t hear Isaac’s reply or if he’d given one.
“All I’m saying is that even my mom stays home and cooks and cleans.” Wade cocked his head to the side. “I thought your religion or whatever was, like, real strict about that.”
“It is,” Isaac replied, sounding like he was still straining to remain polite. “We’ve got rules and traditions like any other group, and there’re definitely specific roles men and women play, but that’s also the reason why our families and communities work so well. We each have our stations.”
“Yeah, but you just said that Grace is basically as good as you are at training. How is she allowed to work with horses?”
Grace couldn’t help smiling, knowing Isaac had been defending her. She’d think of a special way to thank him for that later.
“Grace is different,” Isaac said. “She’s got very special gifts.”
“But still.” Wade scratched his head and shifted his stance. “You’re out on a date, right?”
“Yes,” Isaac said. “Our first date.” Grace couldn’t help glancing at him, thrilled he admitted it so freely.
“So wouldn’t it be better for you if she was, like, regular Amish? Aren’t they supposed to be at home learning to churn butter and have babies and take care of their husbands? I mean, I don’t know—I’m just asking.”
“That…that is the tradition in the communities around here.”
Grace felt her eyebrows pull together, wondering why Isaac hadn’t added that she was an exception to the rules and he supported that she didn’t want to be traditional. When those words didn’t come, she knew she was frowning.
“What I really don’t get,” Wade continued, his voice dropping, “is that her father doesn’t mind. If men like you expect to marry someone who stays home, isn’t John freaking out that she’ll never get married? I mean, he’d be a sucky father if he wasn’t at least concerned. Surely he’s talked to you about it—man-to-man.”
Grace’s spine stiffened. How dare the boy ask such personal questions? It would be different if Wade were legitimately interested in learning about their culture, but this wasn’t curiosity, it was just plain disrespectful…to Isaac and to her family.
They were getting closer to the front of the line, and Grace suspected Isaac was simply making gracious conversation until Wade went away. He was great at chitchat.
“Her father is a good man. And he is…very concerned.”
Grace’s heart froze in place at Isaac’s words. When she took a quick peek at him, his face looked a little pale, and he was rubbing a fist across his forehead.
“He, uh, he talked to me about it one night,” Isaac continued. “Because of personal circumstances with their family, he’s hesitant about…well, in the future, he doesn’t want her working at the training farm.”
“And you think he’s right?” Wade asked.
She watched as Isaac, looking uncomfortable, shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose, as his employee, I have to agree with John’s decision.”
It felt like someone just spiked a volleyball right at Grace’s stomach, taking the wind out of her. The words she was pretending to read on the side of the building went blurry as she stared at the back of Isaac’s black hat, feeling lightheaded.
“Seriously? Ha!” Wade’s loud voice was like another volleyball spike, aimed at the side of her face. “So, he’s like trying to get her to quit or something? Oh, man, that’s classic!”
“Shh.” Isaac hissed. “Lower your voice—I didn’t mean…” His words faded out the second Grace forced herself to step into view. If he’d looked a little pale before, now Isaac’s face was as white as winter snow. “Grace.” His eyes held wide.
Grace had no words. She didn’t know what to say or do. Almost as if on autopilot, she backed away from him and from the line outside the ice cream parlor. Off the curb and into the street.
“Better control your girl,” she heard Wade say right before she turned around, marching away as fast as she could.
“Grace. Wait!”
She knew Isaac was following, and she wasn’t sure where she was going. Just away.
“Grace. Hold on.” He finally caught up to her when she’d reached the other side of the street.
“What?” she said, swinging around after he’d taken her by the elbow.
Doubtless seeing the hurt and betrayal in her expression, Isaac dropped her elbow and took a step back. “What’s wrong?”
Grace almost laughed. Was he kidding? “Headache,” she said, truthfully, for it felt lik
e her entire brain was about to explode. “I want to go home. Now.” Noticing where they were, she began pacing toward where they’d left the buggy.
“Sure.” Isaac stepped quicker so he was walking at her side, causing Grace to pick up speed. “Grace.” He took her by the elbow again, forcing her to slow down. “Wait a second.”
She stopped in place and spun to face him. “Did you really talk to my father about that?” She knew she didn’t have to explain what “that” meant. And did she really have to ask the question in the first place? For she already knew Isaac and Daed had discussed Travis’s new compensation plan in a conversation that purposely hadn’t included her. What made her think they didn’t talk behind her back all the time?
And just the other day, hadn’t she felt the tiniest unease that Isaac was trying to “even things up” with training Sin? Was he trying to control the situation so he’d get the endorsements?
“Jah,” Isaac admitted, looking her straight in the eyes as if he had nothing to hide.
Grace exhaled a scoff. “That’s just perfect.” She inwardly cringed at her sarcastic tone, but not enough to apologize. “And you felt the need to share that with Wade Carlson, of all people.”
“That was a mistake,” he said, looking over his shoulder, his ears turning red. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry that I heard it or sorry you and my father have been keeping secrets from me?” She placed her hands on her hips, frustrated at the tears beginning to fill her eyes. “I thought we were a team.”
“We are. Come on—just listen.”
She scoffed again and began walking at an even faster pace. “Just take me home.” Without waiting for his help, she climbed into the buggy, noticing with alarm how she was forced to touch shoulders with him when he got in next. She wanted to be small, alone. Far away.
Isaac took the reins, flicking them until the horses began to move. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “Can we talk about it?”
Grace couldn’t look at him. She felt sick to her stomach, bile rising into her throat every time they went over the tiniest bump in the road. Her mind reeled, confused to the point of nausea at what she knew. She felt something might have been off, and now she was ill to her very core that she’d been right all along.
“Please talk to me.”
A part of her desperately wanted to hear what he had to say, wondering if he could clear the air.
But how was she supposed to trust anything he said now?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Isaac felt terrible. He knew he’d really messed up by talking to Wade about such personal matters. Unknowingly, he’d betrayed Grace, and she had every reason to be disappointed with him. By now, he knew her pretty well and knew she wouldn’t want to speak to him until she was calmer. They had that trait in common.
So Isaac kept a tight hold on the reins and silently followed the road home.
He’d make it up to her. When she was ready, he’d tell her everything he and John had talked about. She was right to feel betrayed. Isaac had had no business keeping that conversation from her, or any of the others he’d had with John concerning her. He’d even felt a little guilty that night, so the next day, he’d told her about Travis’s new plan. He knew now that he should’ve shared with her the rest of what John had said…about how her father was sick to death with worry that Grace would be hurt like his wife had.
Being a father himself, Isaac couldn’t help empathizing with John. Isaac would do anything to protect his own daughter. But it wasn’t his place to tell Grace. After all, John hadn’t given him permission to share.
“Can I ask you something?”
Isaac turned to Grace, grateful she was at least speaking to him. “Sure.”
“Was Martha a homemaker? She stayed home to take care of Sadie?”
“Jah. Why?”
But Grace didn’t reply. When he looked at her, the heels of her hands were over her eyes.
It broke his heart to see how upset she was, but Isaac wasn’t sure what else he could do at that point. She said she had a headache, so he was doing everything he could to get her home quickly and safely. “Grace, sweetheart, just sit tight. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Don’t.” The word was practically a whisper. Isaac might not have even heard it had it not been accompanied by Grace moving away from him.
“Careful—you’ll fall out of the buggy,” he said, adding a laugh to his voice, hoping to lighten the mood. “Didn’t you promise to teach Sadie how to sing to the ponies? She’s counting on you.”
Suddenly, Grace went still as a board as he heard her suck in a breath. When she looked at him, Isaac flinched. Her face was as pale as Cincinnati’s spot, but her cheeks and around her blue eyes were redder than a strawberry.
At first he thought she might be having an allergic reaction, until he noticed her eyes and cheeks were wet from tears.
“Grace, honey, are you crying?” He reached out to hold her hand, like he’d done a dozen times in the last few days—his attentions had always seemed welcomed by her. But Grace recoiled, staring wide-eyed at his hand like it was a snake.
“I hope…” she began, her voice weak, “I hope she has a good mother someday.”
Isaac felt his brows furrow. “Who?”
She sniffed and rubbed her face with the corner of her cape. “Because I’m sure you’ll marry someone who will raise her properly. Stop the buggy, I want to get out.”
Pain pressed against Isaac’s chest, his pulse fast with confusion. What was going on? This couldn’t be just about talking to John behind her back.
“I mean it,” she said, looking at him with a stern expression. “Stop or I’ll jump out right here.”
When he didn’t slow down, she grabbed for the reins.
Isaac didn’t wait to call her bluff. He’d never seen her more serious. “Whoa,” he said, gently pulling at the reins. “Whoa there, boy.”
Before they’d come to a stop, Grace was climbing off the buggy, much faster than Isaac could have imagined. “Good night—I mean, goodbye,” she called over her shoulder as she began running.
Isaac sprang off the buggy and followed. “Grace! Stop! I told you how sorry I am about what I said to Wade. I should’ve told you first.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” She didn’t stop, but ran straight past the Chupps’ house, heading down the hill toward her farm. For an instant, he thought about letting her go until she’d cooled off.
But no, he couldn’t. Something was terribly wrong—something he couldn’t figure out. He was not going to leave until he knew she was okay.
“Wait, please. I don’t understand. Why won’t you talk to me?” The night air burned his lungs, while hurt and bewilderment filled his head. “Grace, wh-what about Cincinnati?” It was the only thing he could think of that might get her to stop running away.
When she halted in place and turned back, Isaac stopped, too. He hoped she’d be reasonable and talk to him calmly, let him know why she was so upset, and how he could help.
“Is that all I am to you?”
“What?” He was tired of repeating himself over and over, but she wasn’t making sense.
Under the moonlight, she turned her face away from him, then lowered her chin. “Of course I’ll finish Sin’s training.” When she finally lifted her head to face him, Isaac’s heart nearly shattered seeing the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “But that’s the only time I want to see you, Isaac. No more chats, no more dates. Do you understand?”
“No,” he said boldly, though trying to remain calm. “No, I don’t understand any of this.” He reached out a hand to her, wanting desperately for her to come to him. He could explain everything better, if she’d only give him the chance. “Please, will you really not talk to me?”
She shook her head and crossed her arms. “Nothing more to talk ab
out.”
But he knew her voice. He knew her tones. She was scared and hurting like she’d been at the medical center that day, and when she’d told him about Sarah and Amos. Her heart was coming apart. But this time, it was breaking over him.
He couldn’t deny it—he’d made a huge mistake, many mistakes, and from the look in her eyes, he knew the trust she’d finally given him was now gone.
“Is there nothing I can do?” he asked, his open hand still outstretched to her.
She shook her head. It was the kind of gesture that felt final.
Lowering his hand, he nodded and took a step back, as if allowing her to go.
She did go. But she didn’t go alone.
After quickly securing the buggy, Isaac followed her, keeping in the shadows, making sure she got home safe and sound. He loved her too much to do otherwise.
…
As he checked on Sadie, kissing her good night, Isaac thought back through every conversation, every word they’d had on their date. He’d really messed up; there were no two ways about it. He’d destroyed their relationship in a matter of seconds. Not knowing what else to do, Isaac knelt by the bed and prayed, asking Gott to touch his heart, to give him discernment about what to do next.
He didn’t sleep that night, but tossed and turned and worried—not so much about his own broken heart but about his sweet, lovely Grace. The pain she must be going through. Even though he wasn’t able to sleep, Isaac prayed that she would be able to. That her mind and heart would be at peace enough to talk to him the next morning. He hoped this so much that when he got up to go to work, he was actually cheerful, certain it would happen.
“Morning,” he said as he approached the opening of the stables.
She stood before Sin’s stall, not singing a hymn or whispering a scripture passage, or even petting the horse.
“He’s been brushed,” she said, keeping her gaze away from his. “The poles and jumps are laid out in the front pasture. We’ll walk him over those first.”
Isaac had been holding his breath, but then released it at the word “we’ll.” It gave him hope.