He led her to his clinic, holding the glass door open. Just like the other day, no one was inside. He didn’t speak at first but was pacing back and forth across the lobby floor, hands on hips, examining his shoes. Out of politeness, Esther didn’t speak but waited for enlightenment as to why he’d practically snatched her off the street.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” he said, still pacing. “I saw you out the window and…” Finally, he stood in place and looked at her, hands still on hips. Esther was surprised to notice how nervous he looked. Nervous to talk to her?
“Please,” he said, rubbing a fist over his chin scruff. “Would you tell me about my family?”
CHAPTER SIX
If Esther Miller was appalled by his actions, she didn’t show it. Though she did seem pale from the shock he gave her, and her cheeks had dots of a rosy color, she stood firmly in place, not making a run for the door. It had been a complete impulse when he’d seen her from the window.
Okay, that wasn’t true for, not too long ago, he’d promised himself if he saw her again, he would ask to talk.
“Your family,” she repeated.
“Yes. My brothers and sisters.” His palms felt a little clammy as he rubbed them together. “My mother.”
“Well, your maam is wonderful, always kind to me when we see each other. She and my maam are bosom friends, you know. Or…” She hesitated. “They mightn’t have been so close before you…”
“Left,” he finished.
“Aye.”
“Why are they close now?”
His heart grew unexpectedly light the moment Esther smiled. “Well, three weasel brothers were causing real havoc in your momma’s henhouse. One day, Maam was calling at your place when all three weasels showed up. Quick as lightning, your momma grabs the rifle and starts shooting. Of course the pesky creatures scatter to all corners. But the story goes that for the next hour, my and your mother took turns flushing out those weasels like you’d flush a quail from a bramble bush.”
Lucas couldn’t help covering his smiling mouth. “No way.”
“Aye!” Esther laughed. “Can’t you picture the scene? Those two women—mothers of thirteen kinnahs between them—bellies down in the dirt, waiting for one of Gott’s creatures to appear in their crosshairs.”
Lucas rocked back on his heels and heartily laughed. “That must’ve been a sight.”
“Oh, jah. It was all the jolly talk for months on Sunday evenings. Your brother Caleb says he tracked a wounded one ten yards before it died. He returned home with only the skin.”
“Caleb did that?” He felt a belly laugh coming. “But he’s just a tyke. How did he keep up?”
“Caleb’s nearly fourteen. Almost as tall as you.”
This comment hit Lucas like a blow to the head, his laugh cut short.
Of course he knew time passed in slow-paced Honey Brook just like everywhere else in the world. So why was it shocking that his youngest of siblings was nearly grown up?
After years of confidence in his decisions, inklings of regret poked Lucas in the stomach. His family would be completely different now. If he passed them on the street, would he even know them?
He paused that train of thought to look at Esther. He’d recognized her. Easily. And they weren’t even family. Another ache churned inside him—because they’d almost been family. If she and Jacob had married, they would’ve been in-laws.
But he’d died. Even after all they’d done during those months of Rumspringa. He’d failed his little brother.
“B-Bridget has twins!”
At the exclamation, Lucas snapped back to the present. Marbling red on her throat, Esther might’ve looked as anxious as he felt.
“Twins?”
She nodded, slapping a big smile on her face. “Born on Christmas Eve, if you can believe such a blessing. And they’re gorgeous.”
Bridget had barely begun to court boys when he’d left home. And now she was a mother.
“Your sister has them raised so well. There aren’t two more polite and pious girls in all of Honey Brook, though neither can seem to keep their shoes on. Martha, the quiet one, is learning to sew and stitch, while Lydia, oh heavens, can that girl sing! It’s the highlight of every Bible study.”
Lucas allowed wonderful images to bob inside his mind. Two little girls—who looked exactly like his sister—running barefoot through the dewy grass, picking wildflowers, giggling, learning to pray and study, and be the apples of their parents’ eyes.
“Thank you,” he said without thinking. When he looked at Esther, she was smiling warmly, no longer pale or embarrassed. “You have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”
“I think I might,” she said, her voice quiet.
Maybe she did. After all, while brooding over the time that had passed, he’d felt dark and gloomy and full of wasteful regret. Perhaps she’d seen that on his face and jumped in with the story about Bridget’s twins.
Surprisingly insightful for someone who was…well, he’d been about to say just a teenager. But M&M’s Esther was no longer a child, a not-so-small fact that he realized every time he looked at her pretty face.
“Lucas,” she said. “Do you ever think about just going home? I’m sure your mother would love it.”
“I think about that all the time,” he admitted. “But they don’t want to see me.”
“How do you know?”
“I wrote my mother dozens of letters, but she never wrote back. Not once. I think that’s a pretty solid indication they’re done with me.” It was strange saying the words out loud, like it was no longer a secret.
“You didn’t write to her.”
“Yes, I did.”
“But, well, no one ever mentioned that—I mean, not that it was any of my business, but the talk has always been that she didn’t get one single letter from you.”
“What?” Lucas gazed at her confused expression, feeling rather baffled himself. Why did his mother not admit he’d written?
“Do they know you’re here?” Esther asked.
“I have no idea, though it was in my last letter, but if she never…”
“Don’t you think you should let them know? Maybe write another one.”
Lucas sighed in perplexity, pushing his fingers through his hair, knowing he needed a cut and a shave. “I don’t think so.”
“If you decide to reach out, I can help—I mean, I’ll go with you, if you’d like.”
“You’re very thoughtful.” Her kind words caused a lump in his throat. “Sorry, again, about kidnapping you.”
She exhaled a feminine laugh. “It’s okay. We’re not allowed to learn self-defense like the English girls, but I did see part of a karate movie at Leah’s once.” She made a karate chop in the air. “Next time, you might not be so lucky.”
“I’ll remember that, Kung Fu Panda.”
“Panda?”
“Never mind.” He chuckled and dipped his chin. “Don’t ask me why I’m suddenly thinking this, but do you remember the time you ran over to our house because you heard something in your barn?”
Esther blinked twice, as if jogging her memory. “Yes,” she said, sitting down in a chair. “My folks were over at the Lambrights’, looking in on their new bobbeil. Simon and Anna were on their own dates that night. I was alone with the kinnahs.”
“And you heard something banging in the hayloft.”
“Yes, I…” Those blue eyes suddenly flashed toward Lucas, and he couldn’t help grinning. “What…?” She pointed at him. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Lucas said, letting his eyes drift off to the side. “Nothing much.”
“Lucas Brenneman. Tell me what you did!”
He stared down at his palms and laughed. “It started off as a contest to see who could hit the hacksaw hanging on the wall with the most roc
ks. A kind of misplaced target practice. When we saw the flashlight coming, we hid.”
“You hid?” She stood up and walked toward him, probably attempting to look menacing, but she was too darned cute to pull that off. “What were you doing in our barn in the first place when your father had that huge cow barn? And who was we?”
Lucas had to think for a moment, the memory still not all the way clear. “It was Noah Otto.”
Esther sighed. “Oh. Him again.”
Lucas laughed hard. “He and I got into a lot of trouble when we were kids. I’m sure he was the bad influence on me.”
“Noah Otto moved to Ohio a few years ago,” Esther said. “He’s deacon out there and runs a foster home for orphans.”
“Okay then. I suppose I was the bad influence.”
“Finish the story,” Esther said, taking her seat again. “You said you hid when you saw me come into the barn with a flashlight.”
“We didn’t know it was you yet,” he said, his heart lifting as the memory returned. “We thought it might be your pa, so we didn’t make a sound.”
“And then?”
“Once we saw it was you, I guess we tried to…”
“Frighten me.”
“More like scare the dickens out of you.” Lucas couldn’t help laughing, not only at the memory, as clear now as if he was watching his favorite episode of Iron Chef, but also at the slight tick to Esther’s mouth. Was she angry with him? Or was she trying not to laugh?
Just in case it was the former, he raised his hands in surrender. “In my defense, we were only kids.”
“And whose idea was it to make the howling noises?”
Lucas had to think for a moment; then he jabbed a thumb at his chest.
“I see.” She crossed her arms. “Exactly what kind of animal were you trying to be?”
“Hmm…” He tapped his chin with one finger. “I believe it was an aardvark.”
“Aardvarks don’t growl.”
Lucas shrugged. “We didn’t know that. I think we’d read about them in a library book and thought they looked ferocious.”
“Boys,” Esther said, shaking her head. Then she looked at him, her lips pressed together as if trying not to smile. A moment later, they burst out laughing in unison. Lucas’s soul hadn’t felt light like this in years.
“An aardvark,” she said, holding her hands out to her sides. “It’s too much.”
“Up until then, I’d had a very limited education.”
“And now you’re an expert on African nocturnal mammals?”
Lucas chuckled again. “Well, I don’t like to brag, but I now know that aardvarks are not related to anteaters. Another fact: though they don’t actually growl, they do make a noise.”
“Fascinating,” Esther said. “And what might that sound like?”
“I suppose it’s a sort of grunting when they’re looking for food.”
“Like a pig?”
Lucas pointed at her. “Exactly like a pig.”
“Though a bit more guttural, I’d think,” she suggested, a new smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.
“Yes. Very guttural.”
Esther puckered her lips then pushed them to one side. “Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean. Would you mind demonstrating?”
“Well, you know, kind of a soft…” Lucas Brenneman, professional physician assistant, actually snorted. Just to make a girl laugh.
And what a payoff.
Esther Miller tipped her chin and did a loud, though strangely dainty, snort-laugh of her own, her cheeks flushed the color of a rosy sunset. Lucas hadn’t seen or heard anything so free and happy since…well, maybe since he’d left home.
“Sorry, again, if I scared you,” he said.
“That was a long time ago.” Esther pressed a fingertip to her eyelashes.
“I meant earlier on the street.”
“Oh.” She rubbed her arms, probably along the areas where he’d grabbed her.
Her eyes were bright, and Lucas was grateful for the jokes. But also for the joyful memory they’d shared. The way his attitude had been lately, he didn’t expect that a conversation about home could be positive.
A few moments of silence passed between them.
An old college friend of his once said that the earth is populated thanks to awkward pauses between two people. He might’ve been naive at the time, but Lucas knew what that meant now, which made him feel even more awkward—and a little hot beneath his lab coat. Because Esther Miller was not only a grown woman, but quite attractive.
And Jacob’s fiancée!
“Is there anything else you want from me?” Esther said.
The question caused Lucas’s awkwardness to warp into panic. He didn’t want her to go yet. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he knew his colleagues would be returning from their morning conference any minute.
“You were off somewhere before,” he said, noticing the box she’d set on the chair next to her. “I hope I didn’t make you late.”
“Nay.”
“Is that more soap?”
She picked up the box, gripping it tight. “How’d you know it’s soap?”
“Because you threw three bars at my head.”
“Oh.” Another rosy blush began creeping up her throat, but her eyes were merry. “I won’t apologize for that, you know.”
“I’d never expect you to.” He waited a moment, then asked, “May I?”
Perhaps a bit begrudgingly, she opened one flap of the box and handed him a bar wrapped in silver paper with a purple bow. He held it under his nose and inhaled.
“Odd,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Odd?”
“It smells like a meadow. With flowers.”
Esther released a loud exhale with a definite touch of sarcasm. “That’s the point. If you read the wrapper, it’s labeled lavender.”
“You don’t say. What will they think of next?”
She huffed again. “Give it back.”
Lucas held it out to her but, at the last second, lifted it above her head, just out of reach.
She stopped her forward motion and tilted her chin to meet his eyes, narrowing her eyelids. For a moment, Lucas feared he’d placed himself in the middle of a Bruce Lee movie.
Having the wisdom to not poke Kung Fu Panda, he gave it back.
“Thank you,” she said hotly. “Still the big bully, I see.”
“When was I a bully to you?”
“You mean besides the volleyball game when you picked me last? And the time you and Jacob kept hiding my prayer kapp—Jacob told me later you talked him into it. Oh, and let’s not forget about the wild aardvarks in the barn.”
It was like watching a movie of his own life. For the past few years, Lucas had worked so adamantly to block out thoughts of home that he’d actually forgotten the happy memories. He realized now just how many there were.
“I know you have to go,” he said when she’d straightened the boxes in her arms. “But I wonder if…” He scratched an eyebrow before going on, unsure how to phrase the question. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind talking another time.”
Esther’s eyes narrowed skeptically, and she opened her mouth to speak.
“I mean, only if we happen to run into each other on the street again,” he said, hopefully cutting off her oncoming refusal.
Unless something in their Ordnung had changed, they were allowed to be alone together. Lucas would respect the community’s rules out of respect for Esther. When she didn’t answer right away, he worried she might not deem it safe to meet again with an outsider. The thought disappointed him more than he’d expected.
“You mean if I happened to be delivering more soap to Yoder’s on Thursday?”
“Why not Wednesday?” he asked, the words out before he thought them
through.
“Because…” Esther took in a deep breath, held it in her cheeks, then blew it out, as if preparing for a measles shot. “Because I have to make my sister’s wedding dress because she burned her fingers and can’t use her hands—”
“Is she okay?” Lucas couldn’t help interrupting, his medical training kicking in.
“Oh, she’s fine.”
“But you said she can’t use her hands.”
“She’s not supposed to—not for almost a month.”
“Have you seen her fingers? Were there blisters?”
Esther shrugged. “Some, but they’re mostly just red now. And she uses her hands all the time, by the way, when she thinks no one’s looking.”
The annoyed tone in her voice made Lucas want to laugh.
“Who told her she can’t use her hands?” he couldn’t help asking.
“Old Eliza Fisher.”
Lucas ran the name through his memory. “Holy cow, she’s still alive? She seemed a hundred years old when I was a kid.” He almost added that there was no way their community should rely on someone like Eliza Fisher if they had serious health issues. Even plain folk deserved the best medical care possible.
Why don’t they just come to the clinic to see me? How can I get them to trust me?
“So anyway,” Esther went on. “I have to make my sister’s wedding dress.”
“Ah, you mentioned that.” Lucas nodded, not comprehending why that would be such an awful thing for her. Then again, there was probably subtext he was missing. “Okay.”
“It’s a long story.”
“A frustrating one, I take it.”
In reply, she groaned and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, making Lucas want to laugh.
“Maybe you can tell me about it on Thursday.”
“Yeah.” Esther swayed her body. “Maybe.”
As he watched her cross the street, he considered what a surprise the visit had turned out to be. Yes, he’d been after answers, but the stories and pictures she’d planted in his mind were even more than he’d hoped for.
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