“I know you’re still upset,” he said, “and this is very difficult, but I have some questions for you now.”
“Yes?” she said, looking calmer, breathing steadily. Forgiveness must really be a balm for the soul.
“If it’s okay, would you tell me when he got sick again?”
“Like I said, I thought he seemed healthier when he got home, though he did little physical work. We courted for nearly a year; then just a few days before the official presenting at church, he proposed. Honestly, I was ready to get married, ready to start a new phase of my life. I wanted a home and children.” She turned her eyes away, perhaps not wanting him to see her expression. “The change came so quickly that it shocked everyone.”
“Change?”
Esther nodded. “The wedding was coming up, but Jacob wouldn’t leave the house, not even to see me. Your mother said he needed rest, but then your father took him away to a farmer’s market for a few days. I didn’t understand why, if Jacob was too sick to leave his bed. It was confusing.”
“Go on,” Lucas said, knowing there was more to the story.
“When they came back, Jacob was pale, so pale and weak. When I was finally allowed in the house, he couldn’t even sit up on the couch. Bishop was there. Everyone was praying, and your mother—”
Suddenly, she cut off. Lucas was relieved. He also needed a moment to catch his breath.
“He went to heaven that night,” she continued. “It happened very fast—or seemed to at the time. We had the funeral and it was over. No one talked about it with me, like it never happened.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. Although the sentiment sounded feeble, he felt the need to apologize for so much more. “I’m so very sorry, Esther.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she replied. “Lucas, I think I understand.”
Somehow, in that moment, her words made it possible for him to turn off at least a small part of the energy that had been hiding secrets in his heart. “Thank you for telling me,” he said. “I know it was difficult.”
“You told me some tough things, too.”
He dropped his chin to stare down at his wooden floor, needing to unburden even more. “I can see why you were troubled that first day. I’m ashamed for the part I played in it taking so long for you to get answers. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I’m sure your folks would like to know the whole story, too.”
“Tell them.” Did keeping his promise to Jacob about not telling his parents about his diagnosis and treatment matter anymore?
“I think you should.”
“I can’t…” He shook his head, feeling thorns in his throat. “I can’t…face him.”
“Your father?”
Lucas rose to his feet and began to pace. “He should’ve done something back then. He should’ve taken Jacob to a hospital when he first started showing symptoms. That was his duty, not mine—I was a kid. Ever since I’ve been back, I’ve been trying to understand why he didn’t reach out for help. Was he worried about his reputation or that he’d get in trouble with the church? Was that worth the life of his son?”
Though the words made him want to put his fist through a wall, something about saying them aloud lessened their strength. Now that he’d shared his frustrations, the secret no longer had power over him.
He looked at Esther, who was pressing her palms together as if in prayer while observing him. Why had he chosen to share with her? And not sought out one of his brothers or even his mother? Or just kept it to himself for another decade.
“Give it time,” she said, walking over so she was standing before him.
“I’ve been here six months,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood.
“More time,” she added, her lips curving into a smile. He was breathing even easier now, more weight off his shoulders.
“How about that tea?” he said.
Esther smiled bigger and rolled her eyes. “I could really use some right about now.” She displayed her hands—they were shaking.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.” She balled her hands into two tight fists. “Leftover adrenal.”
“Adrenaline,” he said, then felt stupid for correcting her. “Me too. Feel this.” Without thinking, he took one of her hands and pressed it over his heart. “See how fast it’s beating?”
Esther stood frozen, her shoulders unmoving from holding her breath, blue eyes focused right on his. He felt almost dizzy, too drained of energy to stop the impulse. Feeling really stupid now, he dropped her hand and took a step back. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, though her voice sounded a bit strangled. “Um, jah, your heart’s beating very fast. Do you need to rest? I can make the tea.”
“I’m absolutely fine,” he said, touching a fist to his chest. “I do know how to boil water.” For a moment, he thought about offering to whip up one of his favorite peach cobbler recipes for her, straight from Emeril Lagasse’s website. But then he reconsidered. Tea was polite and proper, but he shouldn’t push his limits any more than he already had.
Despite how they’d talked about Jacob and cleared the air about Lucas’s role in his Rumspringa, Esther had still been his brother’s girl. Making her completely off-limits.
“Ya know what?” he suddenly said, pushing the tea box back into the cupboard. “I’m feeling a little tired.”
“Oh?”
“Do you mind if we call it a night? I’ve got a busy schedule tomorrow and—”
“I understand,” Esther said, walking over to get her cloak she’d hung on a peg by the door. It was a nice reminder of another reason she was off-limits.
Amish and non-Amish didn’t mix. Sure, they could be friendly neighbors and help each other out when needed, but anything more shouldn’t even cross his mind.
If he rejoined the church someday, under different circumstances, that would be another story. In order to do that, Lucas would have to give up the comfortable and convenient modern luxuries he’d grown accustomed to. Something about being with Esther that evening, however, made the thought of living a plain life not daunting in the least, though giving up a career in medicine would feel like cutting off one of his arms.
The biggest obstacle when it came to returning to the church was that Lucas would also have to confess and forsake his sins (or what the church considered sins) to the leaders of the church. And, since there wasn’t a bone in his body that thought what he’d done was wrong, a true reconciliation would never happen. Especially since he still couldn’t forgive his father.
“Want me to drive you home?” he said, suddenly noting how quickly darkness was coming on.
“No, thanks,” Esther said while tying a knot at her throat. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Less than a minute passed and she was out the door. Another minute later and sounds of the buggy driving away faded into the distance.
He hadn’t offered to help hook up the mule. He’d just stood there and let her do it all herself. “That’s not the gentleman my mother raised me to be,” he said aloud, opening the door. But she was long gone.
They say confession is good for the soul, Lucas thought as he stared out into the night. While he did feel some relief at finally divulging Jacob’s secret to one of the few people who truly deserved to know, his heart felt heavy, like he was missing something obvious.
For a moment, he thought about jumping in his truck and chasing down the buggy, needing more time with Esther, needing her to understand his feelings. How the last thing he’d wanted was to make her sad.
Before she’d left, they’d made no plans to meet the next day…or ever. Now that she’d gotten her answers about Jacob, had they fulfilled their need for a relationship?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sun was up, and pleasant smells of turned earth and mowed grass greeted Lucas as he close
d his front door. His coworker, Steve, would be by any minute.
This was the first time he and Steve would be at the Hershey Medical Center at the same time. Usually, one was there in the morning and the other in the afternoon. It was convenient to carpool today, and Lucas looked forward to getting to know his work colleague a little better on the hour-long drive.
It was also the first time that Steve would see where Lucas lived. It wasn’t exactly in an Amish neighborhood, but close enough. Steve seemed like a nice guy; maybe he wouldn’t say anything.
Lucas shaded his eyes as he saw the red sedan turn onto the road, dust flying up from the tires. He raised a hand to wave, but the red car drove right past him. Lucas whistled loudly between his fingers, causing the car to stop, then reverse. Looking directly into the driver’s side, he made sure Steve saw him.
“Hey,” Lucas said, climbing into the car, watching out for the fancy leather upholstery.
“Hey, dude,” Steve said, glancing past Lucas and at his front yard. “You live here?”
Lucas tried not to roll his eyes. “Yep.”
“Always?”
“Bought the house, barn, and property when I came to work at the clinic six months ago.”
“Seriously. Huh.” Steve put the car in gear, did a tight turn, and pressed hard on the gas. Lucas didn’t say anything but wondered if any of his plants were damaged from flying gravel.
“Nice car,” he said, mostly out of politeness.
“Isn’t she something?” Steve said, stroking the wood-paneled dashboard. “Brand-new. Drove her right off the lot.”
Lucas frowned. “Sorry, I was talking about your car.”
“Yeah.”
“You called it she…her.”
Steve stared at him. “Yeah, man. That’s how you refer to cars. By the feminine pronoun.”
“Huh.” Lucas scratched his chin. “I’ve never heard of that.”
There was a brief pause; then Steve burst out laughing. “I didn’t know you were a jokester.”
Lucas figured Steve was about thirty-five. Maybe younger. He’d been an MD for four years and ended up at the clinic when one of his colleagues at the hospital where he’d been working nights told him about the job opening. From what Lucas gathered, Steve didn’t have the disposition or drive to work trauma or ER. Though his flashy red sports car certainly stood out, maybe this slower life was a good fit for him.
“This place is driving me crazy,” Steve blurted. “Know what I mean?”
“Hmm?”
Steve sighed. “There’s nothing to do here. If I wasn’t a workaholic, I’d be heading back to civilization as fast as I could.”
Nothing to do? Lucas thought. Why, in this part of the country, there was always something to do. Chores were never-ending—though not in a bad way. He could spend hours fixing up his place: planting, mowing, patching holes, fixing chicken wire… He stopped himself before his dream to-do list got out of hand.
“What do you do on your days off?” Steve asked.
“Work,” Lucas said. And sometimes cook, but he didn’t feel like oversharing.
“Yeah? More time at the Med Center?”
“Sometimes,” Lucas replied. “But I meant at home. I’m repairing some fence right now; then I’ll finish the wraparound porch.”
Steve gawked. “You’re doing that yourself?”
“Who else?”
Steve laughed. “Dude, hire somebody. Just look around; plenty of those kinds of people dying for work.”
Lucas’s chest felt tight, and he knew he needed to keep his temper in check. “What people?”
“You know…” Steve lowered his voice. “The cloak-wearers.”
Maybe Steve wasn’t such a nice guy after all.
“You’ve seen them. They don’t come into the clinic much, but they’re all over. The laundry lines, the buggies, those weird bicycles with no pedals—”
“Scooter bikes,” Lucas corrected. “Most plain homes don’t have electricity, so that’s how the laundry dries. Cheaper electric bill, even if they do.”
“But what a pain, right?”
“I guess,” he said noncommittally.
Steve shifted his car into a faster gear. Luckily, buggies and scooter bikes didn’t use that stretch of road this time of day, otherwise, Lucas would’ve worried someone would get run down.
Steve put on his sunglasses. “I don’t know, man. Maybe I made a mistake moving here. I thought it would be an adventure, but nothing ever happens in this place. Like literally nothing. Snoozeville.”
Lucas mentally counted off all the challenging and interesting things that were probably happening in his former neighborhood just today. Yes, he had an important job now, but was it any more important than the families who owned the dairy farms? Or built handcrafted tables or grew rows and rows of beets?
Or soap that smelled like Christmas?
Before he let his mind wander—because Esther was a subject he shouldn’t allow himself to dwell on—he pointed out the window. “See that bakery? For more than twenty years, people have traveled from all over the country for their pies and specialty desserts.”
A bemused expression sat on Steve’s face. “I didn’t think Amish people could sell things for money.”
Lucas felt his eyebrows pull together. “Where did you hear that?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been here only a couple of months.” Before Lucas could launch into all the successful Amish industries found within fifty miles of Honey Brook, Steve added, “And what about the women? It’s like we have to cruise all the way to Philly to hook up with anyone decent.”
Lucas got what Steve was talking about but didn’t know how to reply. “There are women everywhere,” he finally said, logically.
“Yeah, but I’ve yet to see a legit gorgeous woman around here.” He grinned. “It’s probably sick to even admit this, but I do check out the local talent from time to time.” He paused to laugh. “I’m a man, right? And they can’t hide everything under those potato sack dresses and hats—”
“Kapps,” Lucas corrected unapologetically. “The women make all the clothes themselves. Did you know that?”
“Had no idea. Guess that gives them something to do besides watching the grass grow.”
Lucas feared if he opened his mouth, he’d say something his mother would not be proud of. Instead, he waited for a few miles to pass, then smoothly changed the subject to why they were trapped together in that stupid car in the first place.
“How long have you been lecturing at the Med Center?”
“This is my third class,” Steve said. “It’s a pretty cool gig. What about you?”
“Fourth time for me.”
He looked at Lucas. “I heard you’re, like, a subject expert.”
Lucas shrugged, nonplussed.
“I know it’s important to give back—since it’s a teaching hospital connected to the medical school—but there are so many other things I’d rather be doing.” Steve turned toward Lucas, lifted his glasses to display an arched eyebrow. “Like maybe checking out some of those pies in the store back there. I like a girl who’s good with her hands. Know what I mean?”
That was it. Lucas could stomach Steve talking about how he didn’t find the area entertaining, but he would not permit him to talk about Amish women that way. Fighting of any kind was still against his nature, but he was this close to knocking the guy’s teeth out.
“You’re being incredibly rude and crass about folks you don’t even know,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “What you’re saying is disrespectful.”
“What’s with you?” Steve gawked at him. “Are these people your pets or something?”
Lucas felt the muscles in his arms, fists, and throat tighten. “Pets?”
“Yeah. Are you their protector or…” His voice trail
ed off. “Wait a second. You grew up around here.”
“Not around.” He held heavy eye contact. “Here.”
“In Hershey, you mean?” Steve asked as they finally pulled into the parking lot.
Lucas slowly shook his head—hoping the gesture appeared just a little bit threatening to the guy. “Honey Brook, Pennsylvania. Born and raised.”
“Oh…I had no idea.”
“Obviously.”
“Look man, I’m…well, I didn’t…”
“Save it.” He had three inches on the guy and probably fifty pounds of muscle due to the last six months of his pounding in fence posts and sanding slats to repair his front porch. But he was not going to punch him, no matter how hot his blood was boiling. “Drop me off here,” he said, gesturing toward the curb by the ER entrance.
“Sure, sure.” Steve finally did seem nervous, obeying Lucas’s command in a flash.
After climbing out of that deathtrap, Lucas turned back to Steve. “Look, I know you didn’t fully understand what you were saying. You’re uneducated about the subject—that’s no crime. Maybe if you spend more time in the community, you’ll learn how hardworking and industrious the folks are around here. You’ll never meet a group of people who care more about their neighbors, their families, and their beliefs. Nowhere else in the world.”
“Sure, Lucas. Sorry.”
“I forgive you,” Lucas said, noticing instantly how the heavy blackness in his soul lifted. Remembering, too, how quickly Esther had forgiven Jacob.
Before leaving Steve, he added, “Maybe you wouldn’t be so uneducated if you sat in on my lectures.”
“What do you teach?”
“Sensitivity Training: Insight into the Amish Population. For some people, it should be required.” He shut the door, turned on his heel, and left.
He tried very hard not to smirk as he walked away. Then again, it wasn’t every day he got to tell off a jerk right to his face. He did wonder why he’d been so protective, almost to the point of physicality. Then he remembered how Esther had spoken to him as if he was still Amish, still living and believing all the teachings and traditions of the church.
Never an Amish Bride Page 12
