The Amish Secret Wish

by Laura V. Hilton

  Nice? No. It was amazing.

  * * *

  Kiah couldn’t quite comprehend the heart connection he felt with Hallie. It was almost enough to make him want to give up the search for the unknown scribe and focus on the very real, living and breathing woman standing in front of him. Wooing and winning her instead.

  But then he remembered the letters, the articles, the way something about them reached into his core, touched his heart and made him care. Made him want to reach out to this mystery woman, meet her and court her…

  No. He was in love with GHB. Hallie was lovely, appealing, and…

  And.

  And wow, she could kiss. He ached to tug her back into his arms and kiss her again and again.

  But…

  He shouldn’t have kissed Hallie. He could help her find her smile, open her heart for friendship or more with some other fortunate man, but he needed to focus on finding GHB.

  He stared at Hallie. Wouldn’t it be so nice if she was GHB and greeted him with a “I got your letters…” That would make it so easy.

  And actually, he was an idiot. He should write GHB and ask her to meet him. Maybe at the restaurant where Hallie worked. He could order coffee and some of that amazing caramel apple pie…

  Something shuffled behind him, followed by a creak, then a snort. A horse’s head appeared in his peripheral vision. The runaway horse. Kiah turned, grabbed the bridle, and patted her head. “Good horse.”

  “Her name is Jellybean,” Hallie said. “And since you have everything under control now, I should let you get to your search, and I’ll—”

  He reached out and grasped her hand. Sparks shot up his arm. “No. Wait. You offered to hold my hand if I need it.”

  She hesitated. Her hand trembled in his. Her gaze lowered to his mouth.

  Oh, the temptation.

  But even without looking, he realized most of the people who’d come out to watch the runaway horse drama still stood there, keeping their eyes on him. And her. Them. Both.

  Would this end up being written about in The Budget? Maybe the scribe had watched this whole scene unfold.

  If she had, she’d have seen him kiss Hallie. And she wouldn’t believe that he loved her—the scribe. She’d think he was unfaithful. And he had been.

  His stomach hurt.

  He’d known he shouldn’t kiss Hallie.

  He’d known.

  And he’d kissed her anyway.

  Too late for a redo. He shifted. “Is there someplace more private we can go? To talk?” Just in case she thought he had more than talking in mind.

  Well, okay, he did. But he wouldn’t. Shouldn’t.

  His gaze dropped to her oh-so-kissable lips.

  Who was he kidding?

  Because, given the opportunity, he would.

  * * *

  “Follow me.” Hallie’s hand lingered against his as she pulled away. Or at least she tried to make it linger. Flirting wasn’t something she was used to.

  Why was she trying anyway? The man was reckless, even though he claimed the horse had bolted. Why hadn’t he gotten control of the horse right away? Most likely he hadn’t wanted to. He was flirting with danger. An accident in the making. The type who raced buggies during a tornado for the fun of it.

  Ugh!

  She scowled. And he’d kissed her. What should she make of that? He’d thought it was the only way to shut her up? She could think of plenty of other options.

  The problem was, now she was focused on the kiss. On Kiah, as a man. On her hopes and dreams and desires. All of which were dead and buried. Murdered by a twister.

  And then brought to life again in a written prayer and a sliver of light from the rising sun.

  She sagged as she neared her buggy. He imagined himself in love with another, and she didn’t want the heartbreak of another beau leaving her.

  She’d have to make him understand that kissing her couldn’t—wouldn’t—happen again.

  Not even if she wanted it to.

  Chapter 4

  The buggy groaned and creaked as Kiah climbed back into it. It seemed to have survived the runaway horse, but when he got back to the Brunstetters’ place, he’d check the nuts and bolts and make sure nothing was loose. He wasn’t a buggy repairman, but he did know a little about preventive maintenance. He’d also check for a dent from George’s cane. Kiah wasn’t entirely sure that George hadn’t deliberately scared the horse in order to drum up more business for himself. Not that he’d ever say so.

  Kiah glanced over to where Hallie plodded down the road toward her buggy. Her head was bent, shoulders slumped. For a second, maybe longer, he fought the urge to run after her, pull her into his arms, and encourage her with advice his daed shared multiple times: “It is never too dark to look up and see the stars.” But that bit of wisdom didn’t seem to apply because it was currently too light to look up and see the stars. Except for the sun. And that was dangerous to look at.

  What if he was the cause of Hallie’s distress? He’d kissed her, after claiming to be in love with another. It seemed rather conceited, thinking his kiss was all that. Probably closer to the root of the problem was that he’d been driving a runaway horse, reminding her of her beau losing a race against a tornado.

  Either way, he owed the woman a serious apology. Both for stealing a kiss and for scaring her. But the spark of anger in her eyes and her hands on her hips were way more life than he’d seen in her all day. It wasn’t a smile or a laugh, but at least her emotions weren’t hidden behind a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  She untied her horse, climbed into the buggy, and reversed before proceeding back the way she’d come. Toward the main road.

  He lined his borrowed mare up behind hers and followed her through a confusing maze of turns that ended at a playground with a gazebo. Maybe the gazebo was built with young lovers in mind.

  He swallowed. That kiss was affecting his thought processes.

  Right now, the gazebo was vacant. A woman in shorts and a tank top jogged the running trail with her black dog while a man pushed an empty stroller around the fenced play area, following a preschooler who ran from one thing to another without settling in long enough to play.

  Hallie climbed the gazebo steps and sat on a narrow slab of wood close to the entrance. She nodded at a bench across from her. “Have a seat.”

  He sat next to her, just for the reaction. His arm deliberately brushed hers.

  She shifted away.

  Oh, that broke his heart. After that kiss…He needed physical contact with his Hallie. Not a shunning.

  He folded his fingers around hers. “Hands are meant to be held.”

  She stilled, her cheeks red, and stared at their clasped hands.

  Oh, he was bad. Kiah groaned. He stared at their hands, too, second-guessing everything he’d said or done since that morning. But they’d felt right, as if she was the scribe that he loved.

  Or imagined himself to love.

  Something inside him knew her. His heart recognized her. She’d been the face of the scribe since he’d started writing her. And it may be wishful thinking, but…

  “I think you’re her,” he said, running his finger across the back of her hand.

  She trembled. Jerked her hand as if she wanted to pull away.

  He held on. “Or maybe I just want you to be because I like you. But your name starts with H, not G.”

  She gulped, still staring at their hands.

  And he felt ten times the fool. He released her hand, grabbed his straw hat off his head, and twisted it out of shape. Even if Hallie was GHB, he was coming on way too strong. It was time to cool it down, slow it up, and take it easy. Treat her as he would a skittish horse and win her trust.

  “Look, Hallie…” He swallowed, not entirely sure what to say. But women always wanted to talk about relationships. Or so he’d been told by his not-yet-married but thrice-engaged sister. She knew a sight more about it than he did, because he’d been engaged very briefly
only once—less than two weeks—to a woman he’d refused to have more than the bare minimum of the relationship talk with. But really, what could they say? She was the one who stepped out with another man when Kiah was here in Illinois for tornado cleanup. It was over and done, and he had nothing to say. No, he didn’t want to get back together. He didn’t care how much she whined to his parents. Furthermore, he hadn’t wanted to hear her excuses.

  And even though he hadn’t really loved her, it still hurt. And maybe that was why GHB’s articles touched him so. She, too, knew the pang of loss. Somehow.

  If Hallie wasn’t her, she could be GHB’s friend. Maybe they could help each other.

  “I know,” Hallie said quietly. “You shouldn’t have kissed me, you’re sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

  Huh? He frowned, then remembered his unfinished sentence began with “Look, Hallie.”

  Something about the resignation in her voice suggested she’d been down this road before. But that hadn’t been what he’d intended to say. At all. Trouble was, he didn’t know what he should say. He took a deep breath and breathed a prayer. Lord, help. Give me the words.

  He still didn’t have the beginning of an idea. But he needed to be honest. He sighed. “No. Well, jah. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I’m not sorry, and I would love for it to happen again. Honestly, Hallie, something inside me screams that you’re her. I know you’re probably not, but it seems as if you are. I want to date you. But I’m torn because I came here to find and woo GHB, and well, I don’t want to look for her and pursue you at the same time. I mean, I love her from her letters. But you intrigue me. And well,” he chuckled, “I don’t want to lead either one of you on and—”

  Hallie gaped at him.

  Jah. He sounded like a blathering fool. He grimaced.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t want a boyfriend,” Hallie stated firmly.

  That was a waste. Kiah frowned. “Why ever not?” And that sounded rather chauvinistic. He shook his head. It was none of his business. “Never mind. I don’t need to know.” He just wanted to.

  “I have no intention of telling you.” Her grin was fleeting.

  Grin? Wait. He wanted to replay her facial expression. But he was certain one appeared, no matter how briefly.

  * * *

  Hallie got up and moved to the far side of the gazebo. She stood, her back to Kiah, watching the Englisch daed and child in the fenced play yard. “Tell me about GHB. Why did you start writing to her?” Oops. That was a slipup. “Um, him. Or her.”

  What do you love about her? That was the big unspoken question.

  Hallie gripped the narrow wood ledge in front of her, staring out the opening, the father and son fading into a blur of nothingness as she tried to remember Kiah’s initial letter introducing himself. He’d written about his trip to Hidden Springs, mentioning the devastation after the severe storms and how he helped with cleanup and a few other odds-and-ends jobs. Talked about how he and his preacher daed raised and trained buggy horses.

  Hmm. Maybe she should ask him to train Jellybean not to react to whacks from wooden canes. She did startle at loud noises, so maybe the runaway horse story did happen the way he said. After all, George was a very noisy man.

  She opened her mouth, then clamped it shut at her almost blunder. Oh, she needed to be very careful around him. She had no way of knowing he trained buggy horses unless she was GHB and read his letters. Deceiving someone was hard work.

  “My name was mentioned in her article as one of the relief workers. Hezekiah Esh. And she mentioned a cat scaring another volunteer…uh, a furniture maker, a straw hat flying off a roof, and other humorous events…It caught my attention. I liked her voice. And…wait. You were there for the cat incident.” Growing realization colored his voice.

  She was there for the hat, too, even if she hadn’t actually seen it happen or been able to retrieve the hat when she found it at the tiptop of a tall tree. Panic clogged her throat. He couldn’t figure it out. She shrugged and coughed a couple of times. “Amish do like their jokes. I suppose news got around.” She left the gazebo and strode toward the walking path.

  Kiah followed and fell in step beside her. “I guess.” He sounded doubtful. “Maybe.” That word was drawn out, loaded down with skepticism.

  She could almost feel his gaze on her, could almost hear the dots being connected in his head. Panic stiffened her spine. “And about twenty-five or more people saw you kiss me. Including Gideon Brunstetter.” She emphasized the name. Her great-great-uncle Gideon would quickly deny that he was the scribe, though. Especially since his handwriting was illegible due to his failing eyesight. In fact, he probably heard gossip about the kiss, rather than witnessed it even though he was in the crowd.

  “True. You certainly wouldn’t write about the kiss.” A strange sound filled his voice. Relief? Regret?

  Oh, that hurt. Why had she gone and brought up that touchy subject? Now she was obligated to write about it just to prove a lie as truth. Or was it to prove truth as a lie? And how could she write about it as an observer when she was a surprised-but-willing participant?

  Or at least she would’ve been a much more willing participant if he’d given her an opportunity. But it was over almost as soon as it began. It was better that way. As it was, she almost made a fool of herself. Of course, it probably would’ve been best if it hadn’t happened at all. But that would’ve been a shame.

  “Would you?” Was that insecurity in his voice?

  Wait. What were they talking about again? She twisted around to look at him. Raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Would you write about the kiss? Our kiss.” His brows rose.

  “If I am the scribe, you mean?” Her voice caught. “Nothing to write about.”

  “Ouch.” He looked away, bowed his head, and clasped his hands as if he was praying.

  She looked away from him. Probably foolish, considering she didn’t trust him.

  “Well, I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. I’m in love with GHB, you aren’t her, and you aren’t interested in a relationship anyway. Or so you say.” His voice was muffled.

  “It would’ve saved time if you’d agreed with me in the first place.”

  “What?”

  “I said that.” She turned to face him again. “You shouldn’t have kissed me, you’re sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

  “You’re right.” Kiah peeked up at her and nodded. “You did say that. But I wasn’t planning on saying that then.”

  “Whatever.” Hallie mimicked the Englisch girls, complete with eye roll, lip curl, and attitude.

  “And it will happen again, if I get a chance.”

  “You won’t get a chance.” But she wanted it, too. She wanted a relationship with Kiah. Wanted to be loved by the man she’d corresponded with. The man standing in front of her.

  But she didn’t want the pang of loss. The heartache sure to follow.

  She gulped.

  For a long minute, they stood there on the path, gazing at each other. Then her eyes darted to his well-formed lips.

  They quirked.

  Hers tingled in response.

  And he chuckled. “We’ll see about that.” There was a brief hesitation. Then, “Twenty questions.” He started walking again. “What’s your favorite pizza?”

  * * *

  Kiah was so bad. He shouldn’t tease her. Really, he shouldn’t. Especially since the kiss really shouldn’t have happened and he needed to be faithful to GHB if she wasn’t Hallie. It just seemed so inconceivable that she wasn’t, especially as they walked two or three laps, talking, sharing, and getting better acquainted. It was amazing how much they had in common with each other and how much she had in common with the scribe.

  But if they truly were different people, the scribe and Hallie undoubtedly knew each other, and well…If word got out that he went around kissing girls, it’d ruin his reputation, destroy his chances with GHB, and might even cause him to be se
nt home in disgrace. Not only that, but Daed would surely curtail any future hopes of finding his bride.

  Hezekiah Esh and GHB…

  He groaned. Because, because, because…He, well, shoot. Hallie was GHB. She simply had to be. He couldn’t believe otherwise. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with her, talking. So he asked if they could.

  “I want you along, but it’d probably be best if I go alone,” he said. “I’ll visit the other two men, then this evening we can talk about what I discovered and how they can’t possibly be the scribe, and then you can tell me how to find the women Suzy mentioned.”

  “And if one of the men is?” Her gaze was wide-eyed innocence.

  “Then I’ll make an awkward exit, find you, and convince you to give me a chance.”

  Hallie’s cheeks flamed red. She averted her gaze and said nothing.

  She knew. More than she pretended. He was certain of that.

  Kiah cleared his throat.

  She raised her eyes but avoided his.

  He stood. “You could save time and frustration and just tell me who it is. I still think you know.”

  She shook her head. Mute. Still not looking directly at him.

  “Either that or it’s you.”

  Her glance slid toward the ground.

  Her silence said volumes.

  He wouldn’t admit to his identity either if some random stranger came to town claiming to be in love with him. He’d make them put in the effort, prove their devotion, and play it safe.

  He’d follow by her rules, but he knew.

  At least he was pretty sure he knew.

  Chapter 5

  Hallie was a terrible liar. She always had been. Which was a good thing for an Amish girl but a bad thing if she wanted—needed—to keep her identity secret from an entirely too appealing Amish man. Not that she wanted to keep it secret. It was just that she had to if she wanted to continue her work as scribe.

  But even though Kiah went his way to visit the two men she’d mentioned, something—she didn’t know what—about his expression indicated that he seriously suspected her of being the scribe.