The Amish Secret Wish

by Laura V. Hilton

  This meaning Kiah? Or George? Hallie frowned. Or did the bishop mean to scold her for crying over Kiah when she stopped by to get him?

  “George, I believe it takes a few hours before the fumes clear enough for you to enter your house,” Bishop Nathan continued.

  “A feud, you say?” George shouted. “There’s a feud in my house?” He turned away from the group and took a step toward the house. “You stay out here, Mildew. I’ll take care of it.” He trotted off, muttering something about how worthless the neighborhood watch were for allowing a feud in a crime scene and how they should’ve put that yellow tape up. As if neighborhood watch had yellow crime scene tape.

  The neighbor in charge shook his head, muttered something about “Amish George,” and walked away.

  Bishop Nathan frowned. “Did he lose his hearing aids again, Mildred?”

  Mildred sighed. “No. He refuses to wear them. People are too noisy and his hearing is perfectly fine without them, thank you very much.”

  “And calling you mildew instead of your name?” the bishop asked gently.

  “It started in November, right after the tornado. He thinks it’s a pet name. Plus, he’s trying to grow mildew, so I can live with my namesake, bless his heart. As if the ants, cats, and an enforced bean soup diet aren’t enough.” She flung out her arms and looked at Kiah. “Fix that!”

  Kiah’s eyes widened. “Me? How?”

  And that was a good question. How, indeed. Hallie nodded in agreement.

  Bishop Nathan shook his head and echoed Mildred’s sigh. “I’d invite everyone to my home, but with my wife’s undiagnosed freezing issues, we’d be more comfortable elsewhere.” His gaze met Hallie’s and his brow rose.

  What? Hallie stared at him a couple of seconds before it hit. “Oh. Sure. Jah. Come to our house. Daed would insist.” That last part was true. He would. And hopefully he’d be home.

  “We have guests. George’s brother, Herbert, and his wife, Margaret. His hearing is as bad as George’s,” Mildred said. She gestured toward another elderly couple standing by George’s buggy holding a couple of cats and glaring at Kiah.

  A few neighbors left the “crime scene.”

  “There’s two of them?” Kiah blurted; then he coughed, his neck turning red.

  Mildred patted his arm. “I know, boy. It’s enough to make me go deaf in my left eye.” And she winked.

  Kiah chuckled and glanced at Hallie. “I like that. In fact, I’ll probably use it. Deaf in my left eye.”

  Mildred giggled like a schoolgirl. “Be prepared for some strange looks, but consider it yours.”

  “What do you mean, it’s poisoned? That ant murderer tried to poison me and Mildew, too?” Shouting began afresh as a few remaining gawkers apparently tried to keep George from entering the house.

  “Mildred, you go round up your husband and guests and meet us at Ted Brunstetter’s place.” The bishop gave her a sympathy-filled look; then he turned to Kiah. “You can ride with Hallie and me. However, she brought the two-seater, so you mind your manners.”

  “My manners?” Kiah frowned.

  But Hallie was driving and unless Kiah sat between her and the bishop…

  Oh. He would be. The bishop wouldn’t put himself into a compromising position. Which meant that Kiah’s arm and leg would be pressed up against hers. She’d feel his heat, and those weird sparks…

  Her face burned.

  Her heart pounded.

  Her brain would freeze. She wouldn’t have one coherent thought.

  And she couldn’t wait.

  * * *

  Kiah followed Hallie and Bishop Nathan to the buggy, his thoughts in turmoil. Did the bishop intend to tell Daed about his good deed gone wrong? Would he get into trouble for it? He sighed. Probably he would, but what kind? A simple frown, as in now you know better, or a real, honest-to-goodness, how-could-you-be-so-stupid-and-embarrass-me-this-way type scolding? Hopefully it wouldn’t be the latter. He’d die of embarrassment if he got scolded in front of Hallie. He’d already made a fool of himself way too many times. Good thing she wasn’t the one he needed to woo.

  Just the one he wanted to.

  The bishop stopped so abruptly Kiah almost ran into him. He turned and extended his hand toward the buggy door. “You’re in the middle.”

  “The middle?” Kiah blinked at him. Then he glanced at the buggy. “Oh. Okay.” He climbed in and slid over; then as the bishop got in beside him, realization filled him. He’d be brushing against Hallie. Possibly more. He scooted closer to Hallie, and closer still, until the whole side of his body pressed against her. She caught her breath sharply. Sparks shot through him, like fireworks going off in quick succession. So, this was why Bishop Nathan told him to mind his manners. Why couldn’t he have said so? Kiah expelled a breath, then focused on regulating his breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

  It didn’t work. He was still uncomfortably aware of her body against his. And he didn’t need to look at her to know her cheeks were reddening.

  Bishop Nathan’s body pressed against his other side without nearly the same reaction. That just felt like a serious violation of personal space.

  His arm trembled with the sudden urge to wrap it around Hallie’s shoulders in a side hug. Maybe lose the bishop somewhere, pull Hallie nearer, and kiss her sweet lips, taking the time to savor, to enjoy, teasing a response from her…

  Stop it! He planned to court Anna. He shouldn’t think this way about Hallie.

  She’d frozen in position. Not moving.

  Bishop Nathan cleared his throat. “Any time now,” he said dryly.

  “Oh!” Hallie gasped, but she made a clicking sound, and the horse moved forward. One step. Then her hands shook the reins slightly and the horse stopped.

  Bishop Nathan muttered something about young love, which couldn’t be true because Kiah was in love with the scribe. The connection he had with Hallie was just physical attraction. An attraction that was missing with Anna, but if she really was the scribe, it’d come in time. Maybe. He hoped.

  Hallie let go of the reins with one hand and grabbed hold of the loose tie hanging from her kapp. She dipped her head and shut her eyes as if she was praying, then opened her eyes, looked up with a sigh and a firming of shoulders, and whispered, “You can do this.”

  Was she worried about driving? Or maybe her senses were as scrambled as his…

  This was bad. Very, very bad. Probably all his fault for kissing her to shut her up, because…well, now all he could think about was her, her lips, her curv—

  “Ahem.” The bishop cleared his throat.

  Kiah glanced at the bishop. Was there a chance the man might be able to read Kiah’s mind and know the direction his thoughts were going?

  Bishop Nathan’s eyes twinkled.

  Kiah looked back at Hallie. Would it be too much to hope she was as aware of him now? Hope? No. No. No.

  But Hallie still sat there, hands shaking as they held the reins, as if it were the first time she’d had control of a buggy.

  She did a little shimmy, drawing his attention down…

  He jerked his eyes back up as the buggy lurched into motion. Hallie’s teeth bit into her lower lip. He forced himself to look away. Mind his manners, indeed.

  The trip to her home seemed to take forever as painfully aware of her as he was, but finally they arrived, right behind an extended-cab, bright red pickup with a broken-down buggy in the bed and hauling a horse in a trailer.

  Kiah groaned. His day was about to get much worse. He really should’ve been firm about checking the buggy out earlier.

  Hallie’s daed’s face was almost the same color as the truck when he emerged from the back seat. He approached the buggy, finger trembling as he pointed it toward…the bishop. Probably Kiah by proxy.

  “That young whippersnapper…my buggy…wheel came off…”

  Those whippersnappers must be serious pests. Wait. He was missing something important. He wrinkled his forehead. George was a young whippersnapper?r />
  Bishop Nathan climbed out, followed by Kiah. “Calm down, Ted. He’ll fix it.” He jerked his thumb toward Kiah.

  Or were they saying Kiah was a whippersnapper? He gulped. That almost made sense.

  A blur flew toward him.

  The woodpecker?

  Kiah stumbled backward, twisted around, and gently pushed Hallie back into the buggy seat; then he climbed in and shut the door.

  She stared at him.

  “Park in the barn. I need my disguise. And you must show me what a whippersnapper is. Tonight.”

  Chapter 11

  Hallie stared at Kiah from where she half lay on the buggy seat. She struggled to sit upright, her hips still burning from Kiah’s light grasp, even though grabbing her there was probably unintentional. No Amish man would deliberately handle a woman there, and definitely not an unmarried one in front of her daed and the bishop. She glanced out at the gawkers.

  Kiah leaned across, his body pressed against hers, grabbed the reins, and made a clicking sound. The horse tugged the buggy toward the open barn door.

  She pressed back against the seat and the buggy wall. Away from him. She wanted to move nearer. “Have you no boundaries?”

  He looked at her. “What?” Then his eyes widened and red flooded his face. He shoved the reins her direction and scooted to the opposite side of the buggy after she took them. “Apparently not when I’m around angry woodpeckers.”

  She coughed to hold back a giggle at the swooping bird as she parked in the dimness of the barn. “You shouldn’t have helped me.”

  “Apparently not. But how was I supposed to know Illinois woodpeckers are vicious and carry a grudge?”

  “I would’ve warned you if I’d known.”

  He eyed her. “The way your daed warned me about George? That random acts of kindness could be construed as random acts of malice?”

  “You should’ve listened.”

  Kiah rolled his eyes. “It’s ambiguous. Besides, who could’ve known a grown man would have a huge meltdown over ants?”

  “The poor man. Though his infestation was terrible.” She shook her head.

  “You think?” He opened the door and got out. “I’ll unhitch the horse while you get my disguise from the buggy Aaron drove since he parked outside.”

  “Do you want me to take it in?” Hallie climbed out and stopped beside him. “Or are you going to wear my mammi’s bonnet and sweater in front of the bishop and all of our parents?”

  Kiah stared at her a moment, then slumped. “I’d be in serious trouble if I did. And I’d lose the opportunity to court you. Uh, Anna. I mean the scribe.”

  That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Anna was a serial dater whose goal was to go out with all good-looking men at least once before she decided who was the best and settled down. Anna who laughed off the string of broken hearts she left behind. But Hallie nodded and shrugged, ignoring the pangs of regret and rejection. She’d brought this on herself. “Anna has a mind of her own. She’d probably let you court her anyway.”

  He gazed at Hallie a moment, then looked away as his smile flickered on, then off. “Good to know. Because unless you can think of an alternative, I’ll either have to run for the house and risk another attack or stay out here until nightfall. And the bishop wants to rake me over the coals, I think. For that matter, so does your daed. He’ll be followed by mine.” He sighed. “I’d ask you not to tell Anna anything that involves me, but chances are good she’ll find out anyway. And it’s probably not wise to keep secrets from one’s possible future spouse.”

  “Probably not.” She’d really rather not talk about him marrying Anna. The idea hurt.

  “Except our kiss. That might hurt her and since it won’t happen again…” His gaze dipped to her lips.

  Her lips tingled in response.

  He gulped and looked away quickly. “Well, at least it shouldn’t happen again. So if I forget myself and try, you tell me no.”

  She hitched an eyebrow. What if she didn’t want to tell him no? Well, she didn’t want him kissing her and Anna both. Comparing them…

  “What’s this about you kissing my sister?” Aaron emerged from the stables and came into the buggy room, fists clenched at his sides. “You just got here for pity’s sake.”

  Kiah groaned. “It was a massive mistake.”

  Oh, that hurt. But, “Jah, it was.” She looked at Aaron. Please, don’t tell.

  Kiah frowned as if her agreement hurt him, too. “It meant nothing.” He sounded a little doubtful.

  “Absolutely…” Not. She wanted it to mean something.

  “I think you should wear the disguise. I’ll bring it in for you. I’m sure everyone will admire your bravery,” Aaron said, smirking.

  Hallie snorted. But wait. Was Aaron trying to get Kiah sent home in disgrace?

  Kiah’s brow wrinkled. He stared at Aaron for a long minute, his frown deepening before his gaze shifted to Hallie. Lingering. Softening. “I guess I’ll just take my chances with the bird,” he said quietly. “At least that is good for comic relief.” He glanced back at Aaron.

  Aaron pressed his lips together but said nothing. The glare he aimed at Kiah said plenty. Not telling Anna about the kiss must really bother him—either that, or kissing Hallie did. And even if Kiah didn’t wear the disguise into the house, people would find out that he used the disguise. In fact, Aaron would probably mention the kiss, too. Either way, Kiah would get into trouble for both.

  Unless she could think of some way to ease Aaron’s anger at Kiah. But without knowing the particulars, it was hard to guess. Kiah might’ve done something at George’s that upset Aaron.

  “You’re right…The disguise is good for comic relief,” she finally said. “Daed and I both can explain the vindictive woodpecker. And with it being supper time, if you’re covered you won’t need to shower again.”

  Aaron muttered something about a cold shower under his breath. He turned on his heel and left. He returned a minute later and shoved the clothes into Kiah’s arms; then he left again. A cat Hallie didn’t recognize jumped out of a buggy and stalked across the room, tail flicking, and followed Aaron.

  Kiah groaned and set the bundle of clothes on a buggy seat. “I think we accidentally kidnapped some of George’s cats. And when he finds out…” He sighed. “Today has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Except for meeting you. For the second time.” His smile wobbled.

  “You mean meeting Anna.” Hallie tried to keep the jealousy at bay, but it still ate at her.

  Kiah looked at her. “No. I meant you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.” He cringed. “But that is top secret. Although I’ll probably tell her. It’s because I met you first. Or because I was so sure you were the scribe.” He shook his head. “I was so very sure.” He sounded a bit sad. Actually, a lot sad.

  Hallie bit her lip to keep from blurting out the truth. Truth he wouldn’t believe, especially now. Besides, what good would it do? If she confessed her identity and the bishop found out, then she’d no longer be the scribe. And even though the column was mainly news, there was still the way writing it calmed her, fed her creative outlet, gave her clarity of thought, and maybe, for a little while, took her focus off her losses and gave her a reason to get up in the morning. A need that corresponding with Kiah had met, too.

  But now…he’d no longer write to her. He’d write directly to Anna. Except, when she wrote back he wouldn’t recognize the handwriting. And then what?

  The confession formed on the edge of her tongue again. Started to tumble off. “Ki—”

  “Hold that thought.” He shrugged into Mammi’s sweater, tied her black bonnet on, then unhitched the horse.

  Outside, something snapped. Had Aaron stayed to eavesdrop? Had the bishop? Hallie glanced over Kiah’s shoulder toward the open door but didn’t see anything.

  “I know what you were going to say, and you’re right. You and your daed know the truth about the evil bird, and even though your daed may not want to admit it, he
won’t lie to the bishop. Or at least most people won’t. It’s probably better if I’m honest and up front about using a temporary disguise anyway. Maybe even about kissing you. But, well.” Kiah turned to her. Glanced at her lips again. “I don’t think they’d want to hear about how amazing it was, how I want to do it again, and again, and again, and, and actually tease a response from you this time. Make you forget about that other guy—”

  “Kiah,” Hallie croaked, her face burning. That wasn’t what she was going to say at all. But…A shadow fell across the doorway.

  He groaned. “You’re right. I talk too much.”

  No. But, well, actually, jah.

  Especially when the bishop appeared in the opening.

  * * *

  Kiah’s tongue seemed to be on the fast track to disaster. He swallowed hard and gripped the horse’s halter. Why couldn’t he control anything about himself around Hallie? His thoughts, his words, his actions. Time to face facts. Everything was out of his control, including his relationships with Hallie, Anna, the rest of the Brunstetter family, not to mention his own family. Only Gott could fix this mess, and Kiah didn’t even know if Gott wanted to hear from him, much less come to his aid. He probably should’ve taken the time to pray about the scribe instead of jumping on the “I love her and want to marry her” wagon and then rushing off willy-nilly to find her.

  Okay, yeah, he was jealous of Zeke, meeting and marrying his one true love seemingly without any hassle. And Hallie had caught his heart’s attention the sad day he’d first met her—at her boyfriend’s visitation. He’d written the scribe, picturing Hallie in his mind’s eye as the one receiving, reading, and replying to his letters. He’d spilled his heart out to her. Imagined she’d done the same with him. And everything was all burnless sunshine and thornless roses. He’d come to Hidden Springs, find her, and they’d live happily ever after. Amen.

  Except, none of what he’d imagined had been truth. The sunshine burned. The rose’s thorns were painful.

  And the embarrassment on Hallie’s beautiful face had turned to horror as she looked past him. He belatedly turned to find nothing. No one. Though it was rather frightening to imagine she’d seen something that wasn’t there. He hadn’t heard anything beyond his own rambling thoughts. He walked that way and peered out. The bishop was crossing the driveway, heading to the house.