A Winter Heart, Sexy Amish Historical Novella

by Annette Blair

  “Did the bishop choose Gideon for you, too?” Caleb whispered so Enos would not hear.

  “Yes,” Hannah whispered. Her submissive reaction looked natural, in an unnatural sort of way.

  “Enos is Gideon all over again, is he not?”

  She forgot to cower when she looked up at him, her surprise genuine.

  “Notice that you do not shrink in my presence,” he snapped. And his heart came to life with a vengeance for the first time in years. “We will see whom you marry in two weeks’ time,” he said, before he turned to go back in the house and shut the door behind him.

  He had all but dismissed them both. Caleb was appalled, at himself, at Hannah, at all of it. Who was this harsh bishop?

  The following day, a warmish spring-like Saturday, Caleb played checkers on the country store porch while Susie slept in the buggy at the hitching post. There Caleb learned that Hannah’s farm money went to pay the largest of her husband Gideon Barkman’s debts. He learned also that Enos Miller was furious, because he’d expected Hannah to bring the proceeds of Dovecrest Farm to their marriage.

  Instead, she would carry a bouquet of small Barkman debts.

  Caleb quit the checker game when he saw Hannah heading toward the store, his heart beating fast as he walked, and the closer he got the faster it beat. He met her, apologized for his anger the night before, and offered to carry her packages.

  His public attention flustered her but she did not cower.

  “Hannah, what kind of bulbs did you plant that first day?” he asked as they walked, so he would not look the besotted fool.

  “Jonquils, for forgiveness,” she said. “But the ones I planted will not flower. They never do.”

  He regarded her quizzically. “Forgiveness?”

  “For so many things. But I could not even bear to work the farm after I lost them,” she whispered, looking earnestly up at him. “I am not even a good widow.”

  In the wake of the indiscreet revelation, Hannah raised her chin, reclaiming her dignity and giving him a glimpse of her stubbornness, which he liked, because they were honest emotions she expressed with him.

  Unfortunately, she firmly believed in her uselessness as a wife and her need for forgiveness, because her husband had proclaimed both so often.

  Yes, those checker players, those old men with their pipes and white beards, had much to say. In fact, they’d taken great pleasure in bringing him up to the business of his neighbors.

  The Amish avoid many sins. Gossip is not one of them. It is, in fact, their greatest entertainment.

  Normally, he would not listen to it, but this was Hannah Peachy, and whether either of them wanted the connection or not, she had worked her way to a place very near his heart.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning at school, with another bit of silent conversation, he and Hannah agreed that Caleb would try to leave.

  He kissed Susie’s little nose. “This is it, Susiekins. I am going to buy a plow for the farm today while you stay in school and learn many new things. Before long you will read to me of an evening.”

  A tear slid down his daughter’s china cheek, but she did not make a fuss. Caleb’s throat tightened as he closed the schoolhouse door behind him. After he climbed into his buggy and took up the reins, he stayed there, watching, waiting for the moment he would be called upon to rescue her—foolish him—until Hannah came to the window.

  She looked both sorry and reassuring, but she made a shooing motion for him to go away and leave everything to her; Susie would be fine. His heart expanded as he got Indigo moving, lazy horse, and made his way toward Mount Hope and today’s farm equipment auction. Afterward, he would go to Sugarcreek to check on the track laying, then to the brick factory so he could build a smokehouse.

  In Sugarcreek, he met Old Abe Hershberger, whose wife, Ida, asked him to supper. She was friendly and honestly seemed to want his company; he said he would be there. One of the older schoolgirls, whom Susie liked, had offered to sit with his daughter, if he ever needed her, and he would accept her offer.

  Ida’s invitation reminded him of the Pennsylvania matchmakers, but he was so new, this could not be the same thing.

  No matter how many errands he had to run, Caleb couldn’t wait to get back to Dove Hollow to see how Susie managed today. He supposed he should be glad they were not all eating together again tonight. It would be best if they did not become so easy that Susie would come to expect it, as if they were a family, only to have Hannah leave them for Enos, a thought that rankled, though her plans were probably best.

  His daughter did not need to be kicked by life again and he did not need to fail anyone else.

  Every morning for the next two weeks, Susie went quietly, if listlessly, into school by herself. By the third day, Hannah stopped coming to the window to wave him off. That day, he waited outside for Susie. Everything back to normal. Goot. He did not like surprises.

  Yes, he missed adult conversation. Yes, Susie missed Hannah’s attention, especially during hair washing, but they were fine, the two of them. They did not need a woman to change things, not even Hannah.

  Hannah—he should not think of her in so intimate a way. She should not be the first person he thought about upon opening his eyes, nor the last when he pulled her dratted quilt up to his chin and closed them. He should not be dreaming of her.

  He should put her quilt away and never think of her sharing it with Gideon. He especially hated the thought of her sharing a quilt with Enos. He did not want to think of her at all, except that he did nothing but since he stopped seeing her.

  Hannah missed Caleb. And though she saw Susie every day, she missed mothering her and fixing her hair. She wanted to teach her to stitch a sampler and bake cookies.

  She needed to stop yearning for what she could not have.

  More than a month had gone by, and Caleb, she imagined, had forgotten about her, as she would forget him in time. It was best.

  She went to the Hershbergers for dinner that night because she missed adult company, and with her promised to Enos, there would be no matchmaking.

  As in most Amish parlors, an assortment of rockers with footstools circled the room for goot talk. In a glass-fronted china cabinet made by Abe Hershberger, Ida displayed her beautiful but useful dishes and serving pieces, likely wedding gifts purchased at local glass factories.

  But the focus of Hannah’s attention was the man who rose from the far rocker. “Caleb. Good evening.” They were trying to match her with Caleb? Why? “Where is Enos?” she asked, and Caleb scowled. He was disappointed to see her paired with him, then?

  “I apologize, Mrs. Peachy, for being a disappointment,” Caleb said, claiming her emotion. Why did he think she would be disappointed?

  During dinner, she fidgeted beneath his discomfort and her own. Abe and Ida Hershberger were the most uncomfortable.

  Their silence calling for an early evening, Abe offered to hitch up his buggy and take Hannah home.

  “Nonsense,” Caleb said. “I am going to the same place, or as near to as makes no difference. I will take Hannah. Thank you for dinner.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Hannah said. The minute they drove away, she lit into him. “You did not even ask if I wanted a ride home.”

  “You would rather walk? I could let you out?”

  “Do not be smart with me.”

  “You would rather I be stupid?”

  “Ca-leb!” She stretched out his name in exasperation.

  “Han-nah!”

  They looked at each other and tried not to laugh.

  “Hannah, I apologize. I wanted out of there. Fast. That was awful.”

  “I am sorry if having dinner with me was so difficult,” Hannah said. “I do not know why I should be surprised. Gideon used to feel the same.”

  “What are you saying?” He slowed the horses. “You are wonderful company.”

  “Then why were you so miserable?” she asked.

  “Because you wished I was Enos
.”

  “I am promised to Enos. Seeing you confused me.”

  “No,” Caleb said. “I saw how much you disliked being paired with me.”

  “Caleb, I enjoy having dinner with you and Susie. Though I like it better without the Hershbergers. I was relieved Enos was not there, believe me, but I was embarrassed to put you in that position.”

  Caleb slowed the buggy. “You know, Hannah, it strikes me that there might be a way to stop this nonsense.”

  “What particular nonsense do you mean?”

  “This silly matchmaking and your marriage to Enos.”

  She tilted her head, one kapp string curling around a breast. “How?”

  “Marry me.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Marry you?”

  Caleb forged on while Hannah’s sudden laughter both charmed and worried him.

  “Stay at Dovecrest Farm and wait for spring. We can watch the jonquils bloom together, you, me, and Susie. Work beside me through every season of our lives. Being apart from you for so long has been torture.”

  “The jonquils never come up, Caleb. And spring is always such a disappointment. I had rather not wait for it, if you do not mind.”

  “I do mind. You do not give a seed-pod for Enos.”

  Hannah nodded her agreement. “Exactly why I can marry him. Losing him will not break me.”

  “Suppose you marry Enos, and the week after that, I am killed in a buggy accident?”

  Hannah slapped his arm. “Do not say such things even in passing.”

  “Would you mourn my loss?”

  “I would . . . die a little more inside, like I did when Anyah and Grace—”

  “What will your Enos think about you mourning another man?”

  “Caleb!”

  “Could you pretend you did not care?”

  “No, of course not. That is foolishness, Caleb.”

  “You think so? Think on this, then, Hannah Peachy. If I did die, I would want you, and no one else, to raise my Susie. I have no family, and she loves you already. It must be you. What would Enos say to that? To the expense of another mouth to feed? What would he think about you giving my daughter the love you could not give him?”

  Hannah held a hand to her heart. “Susie? If something happens to you, you want me to be Susie’s mother, to teach her what all little Amish girls should know?”

  “Never mind if something happens to me. I want you to be her mother, period. I want you as my wife. I have been smitten since— No, let me go further back than that. I believe Anyah chose me for you to marry.”

  Hannah scooted away from him, whether to see him better or to get away, he could not tell. Then she tugged the lap rug off him to wrap around herself. “That Anyah brought us together is a cruel thing to say.”

  He stopped the buggy in the middle of the snow-capped field they cut through. “Almost from the moment I left Pennsylvania,” he said, “a joyful young girl, filled with life, skipped in front of my buggy. She led me here, Hannah. And when we arrived, she led me down your drive and then she twirled there as if she had come home.”

  Hannah covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes filling. “Our Anyah, she liked always to twirl, Caleb. Made the bishop plenty mad.” She wiped her eyes, though her tears continued.

  Caleb took her in his arms and kissed her wet cheeks. “Cry, Hannah. Give in to the tears you have bottled up. Two years’ worth, maybe more.” He soothed her, wiped her eyes, and gave her his schnoopduff, his handkerchief. “She is a treasure, your Anyah, and she loves your baby girl.”

  Hannah buried her face against his chest and slipped both her arms around his waist.

  Taking that as a sort of permission, he spread a hand against her bodice, beneath her breasts, claiming her, to his mind.

  “Anyah wanted for us to leave Gideon,” Hannah whispered. “She wanted to make a new start in Pennsylvania. Spinster sisters, she called us. And then Gracie was coming, and we never went.”

  “If Anyah had not died, would you have left Gideon?”

  “I am a coward when it comes to escaping, especially for my own sake,” Hannah confessed. “But I would have done it for Anyah.”

  “Then do it for me and Susie. Escape to me. Let me help you.”

  Hannah sighed, fear filling her expression.

  “Anyah got her escape,” Caleb whispered against her ear. “She is happy, Hannah. She would see you happy, too. She acts the way you call ‘flighty’ and loves seeing you happy. Yes, you do laugh and play, but not too much,” he said. “I have heard your laugh, and I cannot imagine a wrong time for you to be happy unless, of course, you broke into laughter while I tried to love you.”

  Hannah shoved his arm, but she chuckled. “My behavior can be disgraceful. I would embarrass you.” She tried to remain serious.

  “Please be disgraceful and flighty with me,” he begged. “Sing with Susie. Laugh and play with her, with both of us. Bring us back to life, Hannah. Only you can.” He nuzzled her neck, her ear. “And if you sing while we make love, I will only want you more.”

  Hannah folded her hands in her lap, her cheeks pink, and Caleb thought that maybe she prayed for guidance, or sanity. He decided to pray as well for a yes.

  “I could do this for Susie,” she whispered after a minute, “but not for myself.”

  “Could you not do it for me?”

  “No man has ever wanted me before.”

  “Not even your father?”

  “Especially not him.”

  “You should know,” Caleb said, “that I can already buy farms for our children, as is the Amish way, even if we have a dozen. I also have the means to pay off Gideon’s debts, and never will it come between us.”

  Her head came up fast. “You want more children?”

  “Half a dozen?” he asked, amending his request so as not to scare her away.

  “A baker’s dozen?” she countered.

  “Thirteen it is.” He jumped from the buggy and lifted her down, took her in his arms and twirled her, shouting his joy.

  “Caleb, Caleb, this is—”

  “Fun?”

  “Flighty.”

  “Then let us be flighty together, shall we?” he asked, but as if censure could not wait, a carriage approached.

  “The bishop!” Hannah whispered pushing him hard away from her.

  “The same bishop who wants you to marry Enos?”

  “Yes. He is stubborn. He will not approve of us.”

  “Leave it to me.” Caleb stepped forward, claimed her, and squeezed her waist. “Promise?”

  Hannah gave a quick nod and trembled beneath his hand as they turned to face the buggy pulling up beside them, its wheels cutting through the frozen field with crushing reproach.

  “Vat’s iss?” the bishop asked, with Anyah sitting on the wagon seat beside him. Had Hannah’s twin led the bishop here?

  “A celebration,” Caleb said.

  “Bishop,” Hannah said, “this is Caleb Skylar, a new member of our community.”

  “I have just asked Hannah to marry me,” Caleb confessed.

  “Is this true, daughter?” the bishop thundered.

  Caleb wished he’d known about their family connection. Strong measures would be called for to make a father go back on his choice of son-in-law. Caleb could think of only one. An extreme measure, one which he prayed his Maker would forgive.

  “Yes, it is true.” Hannah shrank deeper into herself, and Caleb wanted to tell her to stand straight, but then, he would be no better than every man who’d ever bruised her with orders.

  The bishop grumped. “She is promised to Enos Miller.”

  Caleb cleared his throat. “I think Enos will not like his bride to give birth to my child eight months after his wedding.”

  Anyah clapped in delight. Hannah squeaked and gave a full-body shudder.

  Caleb slipped off his wool jacket and settled it over Hannah’s caped shoulders. She was not used to standing in a frosty field, never mind the added guilt of
lying to her father the bishop while she did. Ice must be running through her at the thought of confirming his words.

  The bishop rose slowly, menacingly, and towered over them from his buggy.

  “Hannah?” The single word held a threat. “Is this true?”

  Anyah stood beside her father, aglow of a sudden, and Hannah gasped. She must be able to see the spirit of her twin, he thought, because Anyah signaled with several enthusiastic nods that Hannah should say yes.

  Hannah squeezed his hand. “Yes,” she whispered, cleared her throat, and raised her chin. “Yes, father,” she said, unable to speak the lie, only to confirm it. Pray they would make it true, with the Maker’s forgiveness and help.

  “We must be wed this church Sunday,” Caleb said, enough of an order to make their high holy leader bristle.

  The bishop grunted and urged his horses forward. “Tomorrow is church Sunday. Be ready.”

  Ready? Caleb wondered. It had been his experience that a lie never had the desired effect. Ready for what?

  Hannah wilted against him as her father’s buggy disappeared, and he could feel her trembling. “I lied to my father.” Her expression of guilt changed to joy, giving Caleb hope for this marriage of theirs. “I saw Anyah, Caleb, and she does look happy.”

  “Only because you will be happy, too, when you marry me. Though I am not perfect, be warned.”

  “Yah, I know. You cannot cook. But, Caleb, you will not blame yourself, please, when I get sad. I do not know how to be happy.”

  “Oh, you do, it is in you. Be yourself. Susie and I want the real you.”

  When she opened her mouth to argue, Caleb opened his over hers with a hungry kiss. That fast passion rose. Cocooned in the dark of night, the stars winking down in approval, Caleb learned his bride with his hands. More important, she dared to learn him.

  A happy surprise, her eagerness. “I want to take you to my bed, now, tonight,” he whispered against her lips. “Does that frighten you, liebchen?”

  Hannah toyed with the broadfall flap at his waist, bold girl. “What frightens me,” she said, “is that I want to let you.”