Amish Romance: The Promise (Hollybrook Amish Romance: Greta's Story Book 2)
Page 6
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Greta prepared slowly for the day. She paused over her prayers, spending extra time asking for guidance. She wasn’t specific. She didn’t lay out all her worries, but she knew it didn’t matter. God was in control. She sat on her bed and twisted her hair into its usual bun at the back of her head. She slipped on her kapp and bobby-pinned it in place.
She stood and picked up the hand mirror on her dresser. She stared at herself, noticing her solemn expression. She looked sad. Her feelings covered her like a heavy quilt, too hot for that time of year. There was a weight on her chest, too, and she wondered at it. Isaac was back. Wasn’t that cause for rejoicing?
She put the mirror down and crossed the room to her window. She missed baby James. Caring for him while Betty lay dying was one of the best things she’d ever done in her life. Although her heart was broken over her best friend’s illness, James brought her such joy. Feeling his chubby little fingers curled around hers made life seem worthwhile. His giggles and the way he stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked on them, was so sweet. She smiled at the memory, and the yearning within her deepened.
Did she feel that same yearning for his daddy?
Isaac had looked so forlorn yesterday when he’d first looked at his damaged house. She had wanted to take him in her arms and hold him. If they had been alone, would he have welcomed her touch? She doubted it.
She left the window and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Raymond was already up.
“Dat, I usually beat you down. Is everything all right?”
“You don’t usually beat me down,” he said, his face tightening into a frown. “I’ll have you know that for years I had two hours of outside chores done before you even stirred.”
Maybe a decade ago, Greta thought, but she kept her lips still. She hadn’t been trying to insult him—she was just surprised.
“I’m heading over to Isaac’s.” He put the glass he’d been holding into the sink. “You bringing food again?”
“I didn’t think everyone was going. Isaac said that it was mostly only the cupboards needed now. I figured only Matthias would be there.”
“I’m going,” he said.
“All right.” She took a cast iron skillet out from beneath the counter. “I’ll whip you up some eggs and potatoes.”
She went to the wire basket she kept on top of the fridge. “No eggs this morning?”
Raymond’s cheeks turned a blustery red. “I’m getting ready to work at Isaac’s. You think I had time to gather eggs?”
Greta bit back a sigh. “I’ll get them,” she said, picking up the basket and leaving the house.
There was a light dew on the ground, and her toes grew cold as she hurried to the coop. She wondered who else would be going to Isaac’s that day. She was happy to take food. In fact, she welcomed it—it gave her an excuse to go over there.
“Morning.”
Greta whirled around to see Todd watching her.
“Ach, Todd. You startled me.” She smiled.
He strode over to her. “Sorry. How’s your dat this morning.”
“He’s heading back over to Isaac’s.”
Todd nodded. “Gut. Isaac could use the company.”
Greta raised a brow. “You think so?”
He gave her a playful smile. “Course I do.” He glanced at the basket in her hand. “Need help gathering the eggs.”
“The day I need help with that will be a sorry day, indeed.” She laughed and swung the basket at her side.
His face grew serious. “You know that I’ll help you with anything. You do know that, don’t you, Greta?”
She swallowed, and her arm swinging the basket grew still. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He continued to gaze at her, and then he exhaled in a sigh. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”
She watched him walk away. He had an easy stride as if he were at home in the world. She turned toward the coop and let herself inside. As she gathered the eggs, her mind dwelled on him.
Why in the world did Todd only come to her awareness amidst all this confusion with Isaac? It would have been so easy and so simple to fall in love with him before. But now? The image of Isaac’s grief-stricken face kept intruding on her. Nor could she shake the image of Betty’s pleading eyes when she’d made Greta promise to marry her husband.
Greta bumped into the edge of one of the nesting boxes and an egg slipped from her hands, splattering the ground. She stared at it as if she didn’t recognize what it was.
“I’ll drive you over,” Greta told her father when the breakfast dishes were cleared away.
“You needn’t bother,” he grumbled.
“Dat, if I’m going to bring food later, I’ll need the cart anyway. I hardly think you’ll want to come back and fetch me.”
He grimaced. “You’re right on that,” he said. “I’m ready now. Is Clacker hitched up?”
“Nee. But let me do it.” Before he could argue with her, she hurried out of the house and out to the barn. She was faster at hitching the pony these days anyway—and Clacker got impatient with her father’s bumbling fingers.
Within a half hour, Greta was once again driving onto Isaac’s property. As she’d assumed, Matthias was there, working on cabinets. Isaac was helping him. When she pulled up close to the porch, he looked over from the saw horses.
“Raymond. Greta. Didn’t know you two was coming.”
Her father got down and limped closer. “I come to help,” he said.
“And I appreciate it,” Isaac answered. He glanced over Raymond’s shoulder to Greta.
She smiled a greeting and was ready to turn the cart when he walked over to her.
“We got interrupted last night.” He spoke quietly. “I’m wondering when you might have a bit of time.”
She looked into his gaze and felt a shudder move through her. She knew that her entire future hung on what he might say.
“You’re awful busy,” she murmured.
“Matthias will be done with most of it today.” He glanced over his shoulder and then back at her. “Can you meet me?”
“Where?”
“Edmund’s Pond? Eight o’clock?”
She nodded.
Without another word, he turned and rejoined the men. Greta drove Clacker back out to the road. Her heart was beating wildly, and her nerves were jangled. What was he going to tell her? That they should or shouldn’t be married?
Up ahead, she saw puffs of dirt rising on the side of the road. Someone was coming this way. She squinted against the early morning sun, trying to see who it was. She tensed.
Abigail.
Chapter Twelve
At that same moment, Abigail must have recognized Greta. She raised an arm in a friendly wave. Greta pulled up on the reins.
“Abigail. Old Mae said you were coming back to Hollybrook.”
Abigail laughed, her hazel eyes glistening in the sun. “I just couldn’t stay away,” she joked.
“It’s nice to see you.” Greta marveled at how smoothly the words came out. She wasn’t at all sure she was glad to see Abigail.
“Lovely to see you, too. How are you doing?”
“Right fine.”
“Were you at Isaac’s?” Abigail looked past her down the road.
“Jah. Dat wanted to help with the repairs.”
Abigail’s expression grew solemn. “Isn’t it just awful? Can you imagine a fire on top of everything else?”
“Jah. Awful.”
“But Gott is in control as Mammi always says.”
For some reason, Greta felt as if her faith had just been scolded. “Of course,” she muttered.
“I can’t get poor Isaac out of my mind. And little James. How is he?”
“He’s still in Ohio.”
Abigail looked surprised. Evidently, Old Mae hadn’t shared that information.
“I was hoping to see him,” Abigail said. “In truth, I was hoping to be of some help.”
Abigail blanched. “Of course,” she said, sounding flustered. “Of course. You did such a fine job when Betty was … well, when Betty was unable.”
Greta took a deep breath. “And you also did a wonderful job caring for Betty.” That was true, Abigail had been wonderful.
Abigail waved her hand. “Well, good to know that we have an admiration club going for each other.”
Greta laughed. “It is good to see you.” And this time, she meant it. “Are you going to Isaac’s?”
“I thought to. But maybe, I’ll just be in the way.” There was a wistful expression on her face, but she quickly wiped it clear. “Greta, may I ask you something?”
Greta waited.
“That promise you and Isaac made to Betty. Anything come of it?” Abigail looked as if she was afraid of the answer.
“Not yet,” Greta said, her voice quiet.
“But you both promised…”
“We did.”
“And I know Isaac…” She paused. “I don’t know him well, but he seems like a man who would never go back on his word.”
As Greta watched Abigail’s face, it was clear to see that Abigail was more emotionally involved than she was trying to let on. Jealousy flashed through Greta. Abigail was so beautiful and so amusing and so fun to be around. If given a choice, wouldn’t Isaac choose Abigail?
She could stop Abigail right then. She could tell her that Isaac was going to cement their plans that very evening. But Greta didn’t know if that was true. And would she really want Isaac if he’d rather marry someone else? And then, there was Todd, wasn’t there? He liked her. She knew he did.
But Greta could hardly think of him. Right then, all she wanted was for Abigail to leave… To leave Isaac. And to leave Hollybrook.
But she could hardly lie to get rid of her.
“Jah. I think Isaac’s a man of his word.” Well, that was true enough.
“So you are to be published and married?”
Greta felt the air seep from her lungs. “I don’t know.”
Abigail’s demeanor perked up. “Really?”
“I won’t hold Isaac to such a promise. It doesn’t seem right.”
Abigail nodded. “Jah. Jah. That’s what I was thinking.”
Greta squared her shoulders. “And now it’s my turn.”
“Your turn?”
“To ask you a question.”
“All right,” Abigail said.
“What about you and Joshua? Are you engaged?”
Abigail’s cheeks turned red, and she bit the corner of her lip. Then she looked down, and kicked a small pebble off the road. “Not formally.”
“But you will be?”
Abigail’s eyes misted over. “Perhaps. Maybe.” She ran her hand down her chest. “Perhaps.”
Greta frowned. “I see.”
“I should be off,” Abigail said, putting on a cheerful face. “I think I’ll just stop by Isaac’s for a second and then go back home to Mammi’s.”
“Do you want a ride?” Greta asked, knowing she’d be turned down.
“Nee. But thanks.” Abigail gave her another wave and took off, now walking much more quickly than when Greta had first stopped to chat with her.
Greta had to admire Abigail’s pluck. It wasn’t common for a girl to go by herself to visit a man. Although, considering the fire, it could be considered curiosity. But it wasn’t. Abigail wanted to see Isaac. That was the truth of it.
With a heavy heart, Greta continued on home. She decided to make sandwiches and potato salad. She could also take a couple jars of pickles and a chocolate cake to Isaac’s. She had no idea whether Mathias’s wife would be bringing something, too, but she assumed she would.
Greta worked in a daze, her mind going over and over her conversation with Abigail. Again and again, she saw Abigail’s face come alive when Greta had told her she wouldn’t be holding Isaac to such a promise. She was wrapping the sandwiches in plastic wrap when there was a knock on the door.
When she went to answer it, she was surprised to see Todd standing there.
“Todd. How are you?”
He took off his hat. “I’m gut.” He paused as if he were nervous.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Can we talk for a minute?”
Greta nodded and stepped outside. “Of course. Would you like to sit?” She gestured toward the rocking chairs.
He sat in one, and she sat in another beside him. He set his hat on his lap and began to rock. He didn’t speak.
Greta fidgeted with the seam of her apron. Finally, she said, “Nice day, don’t you think?”
“Jah.” He looked out over the yard. When she despaired that he would never get to the point, he looked at her.
She raised her brows in wariness at the intensity of his stare.
“What is it?” she asked. “Is everything all right?”
“Tell me about Isaac.” He stopped rocking, and his eyes darkened.
“Isaac…?”
“Jah. Isaac.”
“Well, he’s back now… He left his son in Ohio with his mamm—”
Todd held up his hand. “That’s not what I meant.”
She knew full well that wasn’t what he meant. She looked at him, her eyes wide.
“I mean you and Isaac,” he said.
She inhaled sharply. “There is no me and Isaac.”
But that wasn’t true. She just didn’t know what it was yet. Was she going to make a habit of lying now?
A muscle near his eye twitched, and he looked down at his feet. When he looked back up at her, there was something on his face … something shadowed. He knew she was lying.
She blinked rapidly and waited.
He sighed. “You don’t have to tell me. I think your face says it all.” He got up and started down the steps.
“Todd!” she cried, jumping from her chair. “Wait.”
He paused and turned around. “The thing is, Greta, you don’t owe me anything. I’m aware of that. We’re only friends. Fairly new ones, at that.”
She sucked in her breath.
“But…” He gazed up at the sky and then back to her. “I’d hoped. Well, I was hoping…” He blew out his breath and took his time before continuing. “Yesterday. At Isaac’s. You had a look…”
She took another step forward. “A look?”
“It was more than just pity or compassion.”
She bit her bottom lip.
He put his hat on, pressing it firmly on his head. “You have feelings for him.”
She didn’t move, didn’t say anything. What could she say?
“I hate to see you hurt, Greta.”
“It was a promise—” she blurted, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
His brow creased. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. It’s, well, it’s not something—”
But it was too late. He stepped to her. “Tell me. A promise?”
Her shoulders slumped. “We promised Betty.”
“Promised her what?”
“That we’d marry.”
He froze, gaping at her. “What?”
“She made us promise to marry each other. She wanted James to have a mother, and Isaac to have a wife.” The words tumbled from her lips.
“She made you promise?”
“I know.” Greta squirmed. She suddenly realized how this must sound to him. She deeply regretted opening her mouth in the first place. What was the matter with her? She wasn’t usually so free with private information.
Todd took off his hat again and brushed it against his thigh, as if removing the day’s dirt. “Well, then. I guess there’s nothing more to say.” He looked at her. “Does he at least like you?”
She stepped back. This conversation was going way too far. It was her f
ault, she supposed. She’d started it.
“Of course. I think. I like him.” Her voice was tight. Guarded.
He studied her and rubbed his chin. “I see. Now, I understand.” Another sigh. “Have a gut day, Greta.”
And he walked away. His long stride was rushed; it was clear he was trying to get away from her as fast as he could. She felt tears burning the backs of her eyelids.
She backed up the steps and sank into a rocker. She clasped her hands on her lap and started rocking. She kept rocking her mind replaying the conversation. And then, an odd feeling of relief swept through her.
She liked Todd. She did. But when she was speaking about Isaac … when she saw the image of him in her mind…
Well.
At least, now she knew for sure where her heart lay. Whether she liked it or not, it rested directly in Isaac Wagner’s hands. She had no idea what he was planning to say to her that evening. Which way he was going to go.
He would either commit himself to her or release them both.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She didn’t want to be released. Not from him, anyway. When she’d seen him yesterday, every cell in her had responded. When she’d heard about Abigail coming back, every cell in her had responded. And earlier, when she’d watched Abigail march down the road to Isaac’s, every cell in her had responded.
She told Todd that she liked Isaac—but it was more. She had to face facts, once and for all. She loved him.
It scared her half to death, but there it was. She loved Isaac.
Dear Gott, please don’t let him be coming tonight to reject me. Please…
Chapter Thirteen
Greta took lunch to Isaac’s, set it up on the table that still stood under the tree in his front yard, and went directly back home. It was rude, she knew. But her encounter with Todd had flustered her. Now, she felt that her whole life was riding on Isaac. She knew that wasn’t unusual for an Amish girl, for didn’t nearly all the women’s lives in the district rely on their men?
But was Isaac her man?
The whole thing was upsetting.
She spent the afternoon scrubbing floors. In truth, they didn’t need it. Neither she nor her dad tracked in much dirt, especially since they always left their shoes in the wash room. But she craved hard physical labor. On her hands and knees, she put all her weight into the soapy scrub brush, streaking a path across the floor. She needed to think. She needed to know without a doubt what she was willing to do.