A Marriage of the Heart (15 page)

W
ORD OF THE DETAILS OF
S
YLVIA AND THE CHILDREN
spread about the community, and Luke was inundated with offers of places to stay, clothes for the children, and a hundred other small kindnesses that made abundance seem too small a word.

In all of the details, he barely had time to talk to Rose and sheepishly asked Joshua one morning if he’d do a favor for him.

“Flowers?” Joshua snorted. “Weeds, you mean? There’s nothing much growing now . . . Why not ride into town and get her something?”

“Just get a bouquet of something pretty. She likes the outdoors, and I want to get over there this evening and see her alone.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll have it ready.”

That evening Joshua thrust a thick bouquet into the darkness of the buggy.

“Danki.”
Luke sneezed, wondering exactly what his brother
had picked. He drove the short distance to the Benders’, glad to be rid of his crutches, and went to knock softly on the back door.

Rose opened it with a shy smile, and he produced the bouquet, watching her face light up as she stepped back into the light of several lamps. Then he noticed what she held and dashed the flowers from her arms to the floor.

“Luke? What—are you—”

“Ach
, that
bruder
of mine! It’s poison ivy, Rose.”

She gasped and ran to the sink. They both knew that she was badly allergic to the stuff, and somehow Joshua had grabbed a strand as background to the Queen Anne’s lace and ragweed. She scrubbed frantically at her wrists and hands.

“I think I got it all. I barely held it.”

Luke scraped the would-be bouquet from the floor; he was not allergic to the annoying weed. Then he bundled the stuff together and stalked toward the door. “So much for romance,” he muttered.

“It’s the thought that counts,” Rose called with a smile.

He laughed as he went outside with the offending gift, then returned to wash his hands at the sink. She caught his arm and pulled him to a set of rockers in the living room.

“Everyone’s gone to bed, but I wanted to show you the coloring pages Ally’s been sending over from the Ebersols’ house.” She opened several wildly colored scenes, and he nodded.

“Nice.”

“You’re not getting it.” She poked his ribs. “Her clouds aren’t crying anymore.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice—but wait. I thought the clouds were crying for her daddy?”

Rose shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe just for a sense of home or”—she blinked her green cat’s eyes at him—“or community.”

He reached over, and with one hand pulled her easily onto his lap. He nuzzled her throat cheerfully until she laughed and tried to push him away.

“Luke!”

He was concentrating on her hair, taking deep breaths of its heady scent. “Hmmm?”

She sighed and relaxed back against him. “Nothing.”

T
HE NEXT DAY WAS
F
RIDAY
,
AND
R
OSE WOKE WITH HER
mind set to keep her promise to Priscilla and go and pick up her dress for the wedding. But when she sat up in bed, it was to look with horror at her wrists and inner arms.

“Ach, no,”
she whispered aloud.

She dressed hurriedly, biting her lip in an effort to make no move to scratch, but the long wool sleeves of her dress were torture against the rash. She made her way to Priscilla’s in near tears from the sensation and knocked hurriedly at the back door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Rose? What’s wrong?” Priscilla looked like she was prepared for anything from an ostrich to an airplane landing, and Rose plastered a smile on her face.

“Nothing,” she managed. Then she could stand it no longer and burst into a spat of intense itching that made her jump and then wriggle with short-lived satisfaction.

But Priscilla’s mother must have recognized the outlandish
movements, because she soon rooted in her herbal closet and sent Rose off with her attendant’s dress and some salve that she guaranteed would help the affliction.

Rose danced out onto the back porch, then gave in to another fit of intense itching, all the while praying silently that the salve would do something miraculous.

Chapter Twenty-Six

T
HE WEATHER HAD TAKEN ON A DISTINCT CHILL, THE
spiny spindles of tree limbs forming bare arms raised in supplication to the still bright sky.

That afternoon Rose opened the door to Luke, but knew that she probably looked distracted.

“Rose? Are you all right?” Luke took his hat off and stepped aside to reveal a thin
Englisch
man. “Rose, this is Jim. He was released yesterday and made his way out here. He was found not guilty.”

Rose snapped herself back from her meditations on not scratching. “
Ach
, that’s wonderful. Please come in.”

She held the door wider, but Luke shook his head. “We can’t. He’s got a car and is going to pick up Sylvia and the kids. They’re going to Colorado for a new start where his parents live.”

Rose bit her lip as the desire to scratch radiated along her arms, but she didn’t want Luke to know and feel bad. “That’s great,” she burst out, reaching to shake Jim’s hand.

And then she could stand it no longer and nearly doubled over with her efforts to get at her arms to her satisfaction. Luke groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked.

“Poison ivy,” she heard Luke mutter. “Rose, don’t scratch.”

“Don’t scratch!” She rounded on him, then smiled again at Jim, lowering her voice. “Don’t scratch? I’ll scratch you, Luke Lantz, if you don’t . . .”

Apparently, her betrothed knew when to beat a hasty retreat. She waved good-bye to a bemused Jim.

“I
S
M
RS
. K
ING’S SALVE NOT WORKING
?”
A
ENTI
T
ABBY ASKED
from where she sat reading her Bible near her bed.

“I want to believe it’s helping.” Rose sighed as she maneuvered onto her aunt’s bed, rubbing her woolen clad arms against the quilt.

“Well, let’s talk about something to distract you then . . . Tell me if things are better now that you know a little more about Luke.”

Rose flopped on her belly and regarded her
aenti
’s merry face. “I have the feeling that there’s a lifetime of things for me to learn about Luke.”

“That’s as it should be—like the Bible says, ‘new treasures out of old.’”

Rose gave in to one delightful scratch. “Then I’ll pray that we have a lifetime of treasures together,
Aenti
Tabby.”

The older woman smiled. “You will, Rose. You will.”

O
N
M
ONDAY MORNING
, L
UKE’S FATHER TOLD HIM TO
step into the office. “Just go along and have a hello with our new bookkeeper.”

A new bookkeeper? What was his
daed
talking about? Luke shrugged and knocked on the office door with good grace, then, when no one answered, opened it slowly.

The back of a dark head and
kapp
greeted him.

“Rose?” he asked in disbelief.

She spun in a new swivel chair and smiled up at him, pencil in hand. “
Hiya!
You’ve always known I have a head for figures.”

He smiled slowly. “So you do, but what about . . . ?”

“The house?” she queried. “I can do both, Luke Lantz. Women are great at multitasking.”

He had to laugh, then bent close to her. “Is that your secret, Rose? Being able to do two things at once?”

“Maybe. What did you have in mind?” She blinked bright eyes at him, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

“Ach
, I don’t know,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers. “Maybe this . . . and this . . .”

“And this,” she added, drawing him close again until he had to sigh aloud.

Reading Group Guide

G
UIDE CONTAINS SPOILERS, SO DON’T READ BEFORE COMPLETING THE NOVELLAS
.

1. Why do we often pretend to be someone different, in some aspect, even with those we love?

2. How does Luke’s mother’s death undergird his decisions in life?

3. Why does Rose enjoy being the “Rob in the Hood” for a change? What does this say about her personality?

4. What is it about your life that God is perfecting at this time?

5. What is potentially dangerous about secrets in a relationship?

6. How does Rose’s relationship with her aunt Tabby bring balance to her life? Who helps you in this way?

7. Why do weddings create such stress and expectation in life?

Acknowledgments