Sharing a look of amusement, Judith joined in. “You should stop being so veesht, so mean, Joshua.”
Anson rocked again. “I wanna—”
Too late, Joshua held out a hand to him. As if in slow motion, their little brother bypassed his grip and fell backward onto the hard ground—frozen from their most recent cold spell. Smack on his left arm.
After a brief momentous pause, a cry rang out loud enough for everyone miles around to hear.
Joshua was vaguely aware of a number of exclamations around them. Of his father running toward them along the narrow gravel path that that Caleb was to have already shoveled clear of snow…
Judith knelt and looked at Anson’s arm with concern. “I fear it’s broken,” she said to their father over his cries. “There now, Anson,” she murmured, as she leaned closer and wrapped one of her arms around his back. “We’ll help you, I promise.”
Joshua stood up as his father took over, fussing over Anson, and then gingerly picking him up into his strong arms. Josh was just about to follow when he spied the three figures they’d been watching peering at the lot of them with curiosity.
Just a mere few yards away.
He nodded a greeting. When they didn’t say a word, he felt obligated to speak. “My bruder…I mean, um, my brother fell. I think he broke his arm.”
The oldest still stared—his expression openly rude. Josh glared right back.
But the youngest boy didn’t look to be nearly as stand-offish. Stepping a little closer, he reached out to touch the brim of Josh’s black hat. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Ty, don’t touch,” the girl said. Looking Josh’s way, she murmured, “I’m sorry.”
Josh waved her off. It was easier to face the boy and the questions than his confusing feelings about the girl—she was even prettier close up. “I dress like this because I’m Amish.”
“But why a black hat? Why don’t—”
“Hush, Ty,” the girl said. Then, with a shy, beautiful smile, she added, “I hope your brother will be okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Joshua?” his father called out. “I’ll be needin’ you now, boo.”
The little one tilted his head. “Boo?”
“It means ‘son’ in our language. In Pennsylvania Dutch.”
His father’s voice deepened. “Joshua, now.”
Looking at the girl, Josh shrugged. “I’m sorry. I must go.”
“I know,” she murmured.
The older boy rolled his eyes. With a slight smirk, he spoke. “Guess you’ve got to go saddle up your horse, huh?”
Since that was most likely what he was going to have to do, Josh said nothing, just turned and walked away.
These new neighbors weren’t like the Wilsons at all.
“I can’t believe you were flirting with that guy,” Charlie said to Lilly as soon as they squeezed through the thick hedge and were back on their own driveway. Ty had already scampered on ahead, no doubt eager to report back to their mom everything that had just happened.
Oh, how their little brother loved to report anything he could to their parents.
“I was not flirting,” Lilly retorted, though she felt her face burn with embarrassment. “I was just being nice. You could have been a little bit nicer, too, Charlie.”
“Why? I don’t want to be their friends.”
“You should. They’re our neighbors.”
“Not mine. Well, not mine for long. I’m going back to college, remember? By August I’ll be out of Sugarcreek for good.”
“How can I forget?” College was all Charlie ever talked about. When their parents had decided that they were going to leave Cleveland and move to Sugarcreek at the end of the semester, they’d also told Charlie he was going to have to take the spring semester off from college. He’d been taking classes at a nearby community college and living at home. Now he was working nonstop at a dry cleaners in town so he could pay for his room and board at Bowling Green University in the fall.
Charlie never missed an opportunity to remind Lilly that it was her fault his whole life had been turned upside down. Somewhere along the way he’d started acting like he knew everything, too. Lilly was sick of him.
Of course, at the moment, she was sick of everyone. And morning sick. And sick in her heart. She wondered if pregnancy did that to a person.
“Hopefully, we won’t have to see them much,” Charlie said, focusing on their Amish neighbors again. “Did you see that guy’s hair?” He sneered. “It looked like someone stuck a bowl on his head. And can you imagine having to drive around a wagon all the time?”
“His hair was fine. And it’s called a buggy, not a wagon.”
“Whatever.” Charlie shook his head in derision. “If I was him, I would’ve run so far away from here.”
“Oh, stop. I don’t know why you have to always spout off your opinions, Charlie.”
“I’m ‘spouting them off’ because I’m right. You should have listened to me when I warned you about Alec Wagoner.”
She winced. Just hearing Alec’s name sent a tremor of pain through her. “You played football with Alec. You never said a bad word about him before we started dating.”
“I said enough,” he retorted. “I told you he was selfish. I told you Alec only wanted one thing—and I was sure right about that.” Looking way too superior, he looked her over. “Now, think about the mess you’re in.”
“The mess I’m in? It’s called being pregnant. And stop acting so shocked and high and mighty. It’s not the nineteen fifties, you know.”
With quick, efficient movements, Charlie picked up the bucket, towel, and sponges he’d been cleaning his truck with and placed them on the shelf in the garage. “You really ought to stop acting like you’re so happy. Your pregnancy is why we all moved here. Your condition.”
“I know that.”
“Then you should know that it hasn’t been easy, having to tell everyone we moved because of Dad’s job. We all had to lie. All so you can have that baby and put it up for adoption without anyone back home finding out.”
Lilly flinched. She turned her back on Charlie so he wouldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes.
But then it didn’t matter anyway. With three stomps, Charlie strode along the newly shoveled path into the house, letting the back door swing shut with a slam.
Lilly hugged her waist for comfort. Well, what was left of it. Now she was twelve weeks pregnant, and felt like her life was over.
Of course, as she thought of the state her family was in…of how no one ever talked about the baby—of how everyone only referred to the baby as “her condition”—she was miserable.
No one understood. Worse, no one even wanted to try.
Even though the air was cold and the ground was snow covered, she sank down on the wooden bench on the side of their driveway. As she swiped at a trail of tears on her cheek, she stared at the hedge and wondered about the family next door.
They were so different…but so not. The uproar over that little boy’s fall wasn’t that much different than how her mom had reacted when Ty had fallen off his bike and cut his hand on a glass bottle.
The two teenagers her age hadn’t seemed all that different from Charlie and herself either. They’d looked irritated with the little guy, but like they cared about him, too. And the girl was pretty. Lilly knew plenty of girls back at her old high school who would have paid big money to have creamy perfect skin like she had.
Though she tried not to think about the older boy, Lilly couldn’t help but think about him, too. His voice had been deep and a little husky. His body had looked so solid and strong.
He was really handsome.
But what she wasn’t able to get out of her mind was the way he’d looked at her. He’d had such wonder in his eyes—such admiration…for a brief moment, she felt pretty again. Almost like herself.
Almost like the person she used to be.
Chapter 2
“That will b
e forty-seven dollars and eighty-four cents,” Joshua said to the pair of tourists who’d just brought two baskets and an assortment of Amish-made jams to the cash register. After they handed him three twenties, he carefully counted out their change, then handed them their purchases.
“Thank you so much,” one of the ladies said. “We just love your store.”
“I’m glad you do,” he replied. “Please visit us again.”
After they picked up their purchases, Joshua watched them go with a bit of bemusement. The women had spent a good hour in his family’s store, examining quilts and reading cookbooks. They were some of the customers he liked best—ones who looked like they truly enjoyed all the merchandise his family worked so hard to acquire and display.
The ladies’ departure brought a momentary quiet to the front of the store—and allowed Joshua’s mind to drift to things of a more personal nature.
To Gretta.
Lately, Gretta had become much quieter around him. He knew she was still fretting about their argument. And still wondering why he’d gotten so upset with her for talking to her friend about wedding plans.
He wasn’t quite sure himself. Usually, he appreciated the way she’d never hidden her feelings for him. He often chuckled when he heard that she was daydreaming about their life together. After all, Judith had spoken plenty of times about how she planned to set up housekeeping. It was what girls did.
But lately he’d been feeling trapped in his life. Trapped about his lack of choices. He’d started thinking about how everyone was practically counting the days until he and Gretta were to be married. His lack of excitement about that worried him. Led him to think that maybe they weren’t suited to each other, after all.
Of course, even considering such a selfish thing was shameful. He was a lucky man to have such a girl as his sweetheart. Many a man, both young and old, had told him he was blessed to have found such a modest, devout girl.
She was pretty, too. Gretta had long brown hair the color of black walnut and the most expressive blue eyes. Light and cloudy and mesmerizing—as if a world of thoughts were hidden just underneath her serene exterior.
He knew he was lucky. Just lately, though, he wished his heart felt as pleased to see her as his head knew he should be.
He’d known Gretta Hershberger all his life. From the moment their teacher had asked him to help her learn to skate, she’d been near. She was shy, yes. But she was also smart and good-natured.
Usually, he’d accepted that working at the store and one day marrying Gretta would be his future. But now he was wondering if there might be another woman in the world who would suit him just as much. Or a bit better.
Though his brother Caleb had remarked that Joshua had been moony-eyed over their English neighbor, Joshua knew he wasn’t even remotely thinking about jumping the fence. He was content to be Amish.
But he wasn’t content with everything.
“Joshua, you gonna work today, son, or be waited on?” his father called out from his perch on top of a ladder.
“I’m working. Hey, Daed, step down off of there. I’ll put the rest of the stock away on those top shelves.”
Instead of looking pleased that his son was so thoughtful, his daed frowned. “Think I’m too old to be climbing ladders, do you?”
“Not so much. It’s just that I’m younger, yes? And, well, Dr. Kiran has already patched one of us up. He probably doesn’t want to see us again this week.”
With a wry chuckle, his dad shook his head. “That Anson. I hope he gains some sense soon. That would be mighty nice,” his daed quipped as he made his way down the rungs.
The way his father scampered up and down the ladders and such in the store, Joshua thought more than once that it was a fair miracle he’d never gotten hurt.
Knock wood, it was a blessing no one had ever gotten seriously injured. The Graber Country Store was a mammoth building, by most folks’ estimation. Yet, it was a welcoming place, too. Inside, it smelled of apples and cinnamon and freshly oiled wood. Worn, thick planks of wood covered the floor, and the years had marked their way. Nicks and divots pockmarked the once smooth planks, showing one and all that this was a place of business and gathering.
Just as he prepared to carry some baskets to the top, he spotted Gretta.
“Take a moment for Gretta now, son,” his daed murmured, before making his way back to the front counter where Judith was ringing up customers. “You know she came here to see ya.”
The gentle reminder flustered Joshua. His father was right—Gretta was too good a girl to be dodging. But what he didn’t know was if she’d actually come to the store looking for him.
These days, nothing felt certain anymore.
As she walked a little closer, studying the shelves like she knew nothing about spices and the like, Josh dutifully set his armful down and strode over to her. “Gut tawg, Gretta.”
She turned to him and almost smiled. “Good day to you, too, Joshua. I see you’re here, working hard today.”
“Where else would I be?” The moment his words were out, he wished he could take them back.
“I don’t know.” Biting her lip, she picked up a bottle of cinnamon and studied it instead of him. And, instead of teasing him like she used to, bright pink spots stained her cheeks. “I guess once again, I spoke without thinking.”
Immediately embarrassed, he swallowed hard. “Did…did you need some help?”
“No, not really.” Tucking her chin down slightly, she gave him a winsome look—one that until recently had set his heart to racing. “I only came in to get a few things for my mother.” Looking into the sturdy woven basket hanging on her arm, she said, “So far, I’ve got popcorn and butter and cheese. Oh, but I do need some yarn, if you have any.”
“We do. Yards and yards of yarn,” he said, making a little joke. But when she didn’t so much as smile, he cleared his throat. “Here, I’ll help you.”
“Oh. Yes, thank you. I’d like that.” She treated him to a strained smile. She paused momentarily, obviously waiting for him to carry her basket. Joshua did just that. However, a small part of him was again irritated with her. Gretta always expected things from him. Always. And until lately, he’d always done what she wanted.
“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? We’re having roast chicken.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m due to work till close today.”
“But what about afterward? I’m bringing a pie home from work. I made coconut pies today at the inn. I know that’s your favorite.”
Coconut pie was his absolute favorite, and Gretta Hershberger made a pie like no other. “I do like your coconut pie.”
“So do you want to come over, then?”
“I…all right. Danke.”
When a fresh look of relief crossed her features, Josh felt a flutter of foreboding.
Was this how their life together would always be? With him watching his words so he didn’t hurt her feelings by mistake? Always doing her bidding because it would be easier than making her sad? No surprises? Nothing new and different?
The idea was enough to give a man a moment’s pause.
When the front door jingled, he left Gretta’s side with some relief. Concentrating on work was far more preferable than reflecting on the state of things with Gretta.
“Can I help ya?” he asked, then was brought up short when he saw who the customer was.
“You can,” his neighbor said. “Hi, again. I’m Lilly.”
“Hi. I’m Joshua.”
“I just ran in for milk. I’m running errands for my mother.”
He pointed to the wall behind him, where a long row of refrigerator cases were. “There’s milk there.”
“Thanks,” she said, turning quickly enough to flutter the curls around her face.
With some dismay, he caught himself staring. Abruptly, he faced the cash register. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see him staring after Lilly like an infatuated schoolboy.
Bec
ause at the moment, that was exactly what he was feeling like.
Sometime later, after Lilly had left with her milk and Gretta had left with her things, Joshua slipped on his thick leather gloves and began unboxing and arranging the latest inventory. The hard work felt good, and it served to keep his hands and mind busy enough so that he wouldn’t be focused on Gretta.
When Caleb sauntered in to help after his day at the Amish school, Joshua only grunted. He didn’t feel like talking to his chatty brother and hoped Caleb would get the message.
“I passed our new neighbors today when I was walking here from the schoolhouse,” Caleb said as he pulled open a large container of oatmeal. Their customers liked buying bulk items in smaller quantities, so it was a constant job to divide the grains and beans into family-sized portions. “You wantin’ one pound bags today, Joshua?”
“One pound is gut.”
Caleb pulled over the scale, a roll of plastic bags, and the container of rubber bands. Like he’d done so many times before, he flicked open a plastic bag, poured a good amount of oatmeal inside, then carefully added spoonfuls at a time until it weighed precisely one pound. “Anyway, I guess I should say that they passed me.”
“Who? The Allens?”
In the way only a fifteen-year-old could, Caleb rolled his eyes. “Well, jah. I told you I was talkin’ about the neighbors. Anyway, I think it was the older boy and his sister who I saw. Charlie and Lilly are their names. Charlie and Lilly Allen.”
Before Joshua could mention that he’d seen Lilly in the store, his brother whistled low. “You should have seen how that truck could go.”
Unlike Caleb and Anson, the luxury of an automobile had never interested him too much. “I’ve seen trucks before.”
“I know.” He shrugged as he fastened the bag with the rubber band, then flicked open another plastic sack. “But this boy’s was loud and fast. Since the sun was out and it was forty degrees out, their windows were down. They were playing music, too. The sister—Lilly—she had her head back against the seat and was laughing and singing.” Caleb’s lips twitched. “It was a fair sight to see and hear.”
Winter’s Awakening Page 2
