Never an Amish Bride

by Ophelia London

  Was she feeling that again?

  “Don’t be reckless because of what happened between us.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You told me how things had to be, and now I’m moving on—easier this time. That should be what you want.”

  He opened his mouth to reply but then closed it.

  He didn’t want any of this. He didn’t want to be standing in the middle of the street arguing with her. He didn’t want to be estranged from his family, his friends, and the Gott he loved with all his heart. He didn’t want to have to decide if he should take the job in Boston and never come back.

  “It’s not what I want,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He let his words settle between them before adding, “Take care of yourself.”

  Suddenly, her blue eyes widened, and her cheeks went blotchy red. Seeing this caused a sharp pain to simultaneously hit his temples, the bridge of his nose, and the back of his head.

  “Goodbye,” he continued, before regret made him say more. Then he marched across the street, opened the door of the clinic, and closed it behind him.

  “Thanks, boss!” Stephanie said after he practically threw the pretzel at her. “Ooh, snazzy quilt.”

  After closing his office door, he checked his cell to see if Greg had called. Then he hit reply on that email from Boston.

  …

  Ever since he was a boy, Lucas hated loose ends. Before he could launch himself into something new, he always needed to finish what he’d started. He stared up at the bedroom ceiling, early morning sunlight streaking across the white paint. Another restless night had come and gone, but at least now he had a solid plan for his future.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “Esther?”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Es?”

  Esther adjusted the blue flame under her saucepan and looked up. “Yes, Maam.”

  “It’s late. This is the third night in a row you’re up past midnight.”

  Esther sighed. “I’m trying to be quiet.”

  Maam lifted her chin and inhaled. Then coughed. “What’s that…smell?”

  “Lemongrass mixed with peppermint. Do you like it?”

  Maam coughed again, then cleared her throat. “It’s a little strong, don’t you think?”

  “No.” To demonstrate, she took in a full, deep breath, the simmering oils burning the back of her throat. She stifled the need to cough.

  Maam picked up a few of the essential oil bottles that were out on the kitchen counter. “What happened to the lavender and vanilla? The wildflower was my favorite. So lovely and light. Like springtime.”

  “It’s not what people want,” Esther said, reaching for a clean mold from the top shelf.

  “Which people?”

  “The people at the store. The Englishers.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  Esther heard the concerned tone in her mother’s voice, but she knew if she stopped working, her mind would drift to things she didn’t want to be thinking about, such as how she’d been ignoring her family for the past few days. How she still hadn’t checked in on Lizzy or added one stitch to Sarah’s dress. How her heart broke anew every morning when she woke up, remembering the things she’d said to Lucas.

  Staying busy was the only thing that kept her going.

  “Maam. It’s fine.”

  “What’s fine?”

  She tried not to sigh too loudly. “You might not know this, but in the business world, you have to give the people what they want if you have any chance at hitting the big time.”

  “The business world?” Maam echoed, a chuckle in her voice. “The big time?”

  Esther knew how she sounded, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk about what was really on her mind. Besides, if she stopped working, stopped moving forward, she was likely to break down in tears.

  Thousands of bars of soap would never clean away her feelings for Lucas.

  “Maam, I’m sorry if I’m being too loud, but I really have to get this batch done. Orders are coming in.”

  “Es, Es,” Maam said. “It’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re running on adrenaline.” She grasped the handle of the pan and moved it to the cold side of the stove. “Come sit with me a minute.”

  Esther’s brain began a mental protest, but she gave in, never wanting to be disrespectful to her mother. She wasn’t that far gone.

  Maam led her to the sofa, pushed off a few pillows, then sat, pulling Esther to sit beside her. “Darling, something’s been going on.”

  Esther didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

  She reached out and swept a piece of Esther’s hair back. “I’ve been watching you. You’re not acting like yourself. Hmm?”

  Esther shrugged, trying to hold it together for even a second longer. But she was so worn-out and so empty that her breaths became audible heaves. Maam put a gentle hand on the back of Esther’s head and drew her in.

  “Shhh-shhh.” Maam’s whisper filled the air as Esther couldn’t stop from breaking into tears. “Oh, my darling girl.” Esther’s shoulders rose and fell with each sob. “My good, good girl.”

  For what felt like hours, Maam held her, continuing to whisper and coo that everything would be okay. Even through her headache and tears, Esther knew the reason for her sadness would not just disappear.

  “Ready to talk?”

  Esther shut her eyes, offering a silent prayer—something she hadn’t done for days—that her mother would understand. “I’ve done something,” she began, sniveling. “Or I was doing something, but I’m not doing it anymore.”

  Maam nodded, her expression unreadable in the darkness. “Was it something you’re ashamed of?”

  “No!” she practically shouted, then lowered her voice. “Not ashamed, but I had to sneak around to do it.”

  “My sweet. Are we talking about a beau?”

  A beau? Was that what Lucas had been to her?

  No, she thought, not needing even a minute to consider. He wasn’t my beau, or not just my beau. Lucas Brenneman is the man I love!

  Even though her throat felt hot and thick, and she was ready to break down all over again, Esther stared through the darkness, trying to see something in her mother’s eyes. Finally, she lowered her chin. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Why would you think such a thing?”

  She clasped her hands together and placed them over her pounding heart. “I never meant to disappoint you or Daed.”

  “Es, I’ve noticed your mood changes since we lost Jacob. I’ve seen you struggle and look for ways to fit in with the community. Suddenly, though, you seemed to find peace again. Lately, you’ve been happy and light—a big smile on your face wherever you go.” Maam touched Esther’s cheek. “I’ve missed that smile.”

  “Me too,” Esther admitted, fresh tears burning her eyes.

  “A smile like that, followed by tears like these…” Maam wiped one away with a finger. “That can come only from a broken heart.”

  In the darkness, Esther allowed the tears to pour. She couldn’t hide anything from Maam now, who knew her better than anyone. “I love him,” she managed to get out; saying the words didn’t even shock her. “But it’s impossible.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Esther nodded, flashes of Lucas’s beautiful face filling her mind’s eye. The warmth of his arms, but especially the kindness of his huge heart. When she’d been with him, she’d been the strongest, best version of herself. And she hoped in her heart he’d felt the same way.

  “Heartache takes time,” Maam whispered. “You’ll heal. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you will.”

  Esther nodded again, but she wasn’t sure even a hundred years would put her shattered heart back together.

  “Is that what this new scent business is about?”

  “I suppose so.�
�� Esther wiped her nose, almost laughing at the insightfulness of her mother. “You should see how the English women love it.”

  “Makes you feel proud, eh?”

  Again, she nodded, silently remembering the conversation she’d had with Lucas about that very thing. How had heartbreak and pride taken over so quickly and thoroughly? How had she managed to morph into the very person she’d been trying so hard not to become?

  “I don’t want to be a disappointment,” she said, feeling the honesty and heaviness of the words. “I’m tired of disappointing everyone.”

  “Who do you think you’re disappointing?”

  Esther shut her eyelids. Leah, she could have said. The Englishers. But why in the world should she worry about them? Lou keeps asking me to sing in her choir, she could’ve added. Our neighbors, Gott, you and Daed…Luke…

  When Esther couldn’t speak, Maam said, “I hope that list you’re making in your head doesn’t include me.”

  “Of course it does.” Esther’s lungs quivered as she forced out the words.

  “Darling, I love you so much. You could never disappoint me.” Maam put an arm around her, drawing her in once more. “Do you know who else feels the same way?”

  “Who?”

  Maam smiled softly, then placed a hand on each of Esther’s cheeks, like she was a little girl again. “Gott,” she said, the word coming out like a prayer. “Our most gracious Father in Heaven knows your heart; He knows your intent. He knows how difficult your life has been the last few years, and He knows how hard you’re trying. I know He knows this, because I know it, too.”

  Esther hadn’t thought she had more tears inside, but somehow, a few more managed to trickle down her face. She knew her mother’s words were correct—she’d felt them her whole life—but hearing them again, right in that moment, meant everything.

  “He has a plan for you,” Maam added.

  She couldn’t help remembering Lucas’s words and then Sarah’s. “I know.”

  “Is it being a world-famous soap maker?”

  Esther chuckled under her breath. “No.”

  “Is it hiding your beautiful singing voice from all the people you love?”

  She sniffed, realizing that—thanks to her sister—she’d had a beautiful closure of her time with Jacob. Singing again might add one more element to that closure.

  “Nay,” she said, promising herself that she would go see Louisa the very next day.

  “Is it okay,” Maam continued, “if you don’t know exactly what that plan is right this moment?”

  Esther prayed again in her heart; then after feeling an inkling of warmth and peace in her chest, she took in a deep breath and nodded. “Jah.”

  Maam kissed her gently on the forehead. Even though she probably hadn’t washed up since before she’d gone to bed hours earlier, she still smelled of wildflowers. The fresh, soothing scent pushed another wave of calm over Esther.

  “Sometimes the answer to a prayer is so very simple,” Maam whispered, her voice wrapping around Esther’s heart. “Our job, my darling, is to act.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Lucas hid behind a large green apple tree that was heavy with fruit. It wasn’t a cowardly act—he simply wasn’t ready to be seen. He’d been watching her for ten minutes as she’d been digging potatoes out of the ground. It was late in the season, and he was surprised there were so many left to harvest. He could tell she was surprised, too, because she’d brought only a small basket with her—which was now overflowing with freshly picked potatoes.

  A gust of morning wind made her black cloak float out behind her like she was Super Woman. To Lucas, she truly was, and always had been.

  From his hiding place, he’d considered approaching her dozens of times, even going so far as taking a step or two. With everything that had happened between them, he had no idea how she would react.

  So he kept watching and thinking and praying—so many prayers that he would know what to do.

  When she balanced the heavy basket on her hip and began heading toward the house, Lucas had no choice but to follow.

  Customary thick, heavy drapes hung over each window, blocking the view of curious outsiders—such as Lucas. The window above the kitchen sink, however, was not obstructed, and when he drew nearer, he could see she was sitting alone at the long wooden table, the potatoes spread out before her. No one else appeared to be inside. No noise of playing children or chatty visitors.

  Peaceful, solitary moments like this one were probably very rare for her. But Lucas didn’t care. He knew it was now or never.

  Instead of knocking on the back door, he simply turned the knob and quietly opened the door. She didn’t move, hadn’t heard him. He took one step inside, then stood up tall.

  “Maam?”

  He watched as she froze in place, the hand holding a potato hovering above the table. When she still didn’t move, he swallowed, wondering if this had been a terrible idea.

  “Maam,” he repeated, not willing to give up yet.

  Slowly, she lowered her chin but then turned toward him.

  He hadn’t noticed from his distance behind the apple tree, but thin lines ran across his mother’s forehead. Her hair wasn’t as dark brown as he’d remembered. And was she just a little bit thinner? Despite the ten years that had gone by, to Lucas, she looked exactly the same.

  “Maam,” he said a third time as he took another step inside. Was this too bold? Was she about to call for help?

  “Lucas?” Slowly, she pushed back the chair and stood. Hearing her speak his name made his heart pound with uncertainty. “Is it truly you?”

  “Jah,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “It’s me.” Blood whooshed in his ears, making his arms and hands shake. He was about to say something else—to apologize, maybe. Apologize for running away, for having stopped writing to her when he’d arrived in Honey Brook, for not being able to save Jacob.

  Before any of those words could form, his mother covered her mouth with both hands, then practically ran toward him. When her body hit his, Lucas actually felt the wind rush from his lungs. A moment later, her arms were around him, and he was enveloped in the hug he’d missed most of all.

  A lump grew in Lucas’s throat as he bent down and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, perfectly recalling the last time he’d hugged her—the day he’d left for Rumspringa ten years ago.

  “Son, son,” Maam kept repeating. He heard the tears of joy in her voice while feeling a burning in his own eyes.

  After finally releasing each other, Maam looked up at him and let out a long exhale. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Is it okay?” Lucas asked. Even if her answer was no, he wasn’t about to leave.

  Maam brushed away a tear from her cheek. “Jah,” she whispered. “Although…” She glanced over her shoulder toward the front door. Lucas hadn’t noticed if his father’s buggy had been out front. She might’ve been happy to see him, but his father was a different story.

  “I don’t want you to feel awkward,” Lucas said. “Would you rather I—”

  “No!” Maam burst out, then smiled like the sweet angel she was. “You’re not going anywhere, and if your father can’t… Well”—she smiled again and wiped her hands down the front of her black apron—“then he can sit in that old barn of his.”

  “Maam.” Lucas couldn’t help chuckling under his breath. His mother the firecracker hadn’t changed a bit.

  “He’s visiting with the ministers,” she said. “Then he has a meeting with Bishop Abram this afternoon. I don’t expect him home for a while.”

  Lucas felt his eyebrows rise. “Daed is part of the church leadership?”

  “Mostly with the logistical matters,” she said, unveiling a loaf of homemade cinnamon bread. Just seeing it triggered a memory in Lucas, and his mouth began to water. “Toasted,
butter and blueberry jam?” Maam asked.

  Lucas grinned. “You remember.”

  Maam’s eyes twinkled. “How could I forget?”

  Warmth spread through his chest, across his shoulders. Even though his mother was standing six feet away, it felt like he was still wrapped in her hug. Perhaps because he was literally living in the middle of an answered prayer.

  Again, his throat grew thick with tears, and he coughed into a fist before speaking again. “Daed always seemed too busy with the mill to get involved with church matters,” he said. “What’s changed?”

  Maam’s eyes were lowered as she cut thick slices of bread. But she lifted them for a moment to meet Lucas’s gaze. “A lot’s changed.”

  Well, it has been ten years, Lucas considered. I’m living proof of those changes.

  “Your father’s getting older,” Maam continued. “He’s had an offer on the back ten acres by the pond.”

  “He’s selling?”

  “He’s considering. Jeremiah’s got land, too. Maybe too much.” She paused. “Jerry’s married now.”

  “I know.” Lucas smiled. “I’ve seen him.”

  Maam put down the knife. “You have? When?”

  Lucas walked to stand beside her. “Last week for the first time. It was an accident, really.” He went on to explain how he and Jerry had happened to meet that early morning, and all the other details. Well, he did not mention Esther Miller. No reason to go into that depressing part of the story.

  “Such a blessing,” Maam said, her words sounding thick, as if fighting back more tears. “I might even call it a miracle.”

  As they sat together at the wooden table, Maam asked questions and Lucas did his best to answer, did his best to explain his life since he’d returned to the area. He’d been a little surprised that she really hadn’t known he’d been working at the clinic in town since April—living a few miles from where they sat right now.

  “Caleb’s nearly as big as you these days,” Maam was saying. Before Lucas could reply, in unison, they turned at the sound of horse hooves on the gravel driveway.