Amish Passion (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy) (7 page)

BOOK: Amish Passion (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy)
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He submerge
d himself inside her once more.  Lunging deep, he nailed her hips against the wet tile, thrusting ever deeper and harder until his orgasm overtook him.  He fell out of her too quickly, she thought, disappointed, hating to have him leave her.  Ejaculate trickled out of her and coagulated milky white and slimy with the shower water which was growing quite cool. 

He held her closely, not wanting to leave her either.  With trembling hand, he turned off the water. 
             

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did you like it?”

She lifted her head and laughed. 

“Couldn’t you tell?”

“Well, you sounded like you liked it.”

Getting her out of the shower, he dried her off. 

As she got dressed, she pondered on her double life.  Her few stolen hours with Nick each week were more real to her than all the rest of the time in her world.  With the exception of Sarah and the precious few moments that Leah was cognizant of her presence, there seemed little else for her.  She knew Nick wanted her to live with him, marry him even.  She was glad for this and yet troubled at the same time.  She was glad because she wanted to give it to him.  She was troubled because she didn’t feel it was hers to give.

She wondered how long Nick would wait patiently.  She didn’t expect it to be forever, nor did she want it to be forever.  If she were to say what she was waiting for, she would not have been able to answer.  Maybe it was a sign from God.  Maybe it was her actions coming to fruition.  And maybe, it was exactly what did happen.

 

Chapter Eight

 

Tuesday

Rebekah sat in her bedroom as the sun was going down, dolefully reviewing the day’s events.   Early in the morning, her mother had driven a buggy over to say that Leah was once more in the hospital.  Abandoning everything but Rachel, Rebekah climbed into the van with the rest of the Bontrager clan.  Absently, she noticed that Ezekiel had also closed up his shop and come along in the van to the hospital. 
Why?  She’s not his sister
, had been her only thought.  She was too concerned about the fate of her sister to wonder about his actions any further. 

Is God punishing Leah again for my sin?  No, Nick says that God isn’t like that.
  She squeezed a handkerchief tightly between her hands and blinked back tears.  Would Leah die this time?  Rachel, oblivious to the severity of the emotions around her, cooed and gurgled.  Ezekiel sat beside Rebekah, not touching her, not speaking. 
What else is new?
  Sarcasm, something not known to the Amish, filled her. 

She wanted to tell herself that Leah was dying again and once again, it was all her fault.  But this time, it didn’t quite fit together.  This time although she was still haunted by guilt, she realized at some level that her feelings of
shame were unfounded. 
This has nothing to do with me.  It was not caused by Nick and me
. Yet her remorse made her sorrow that much more poignant.  She felt like she was being physically pierced by sharp objects. 

At the hospital, she found that Leah had suffered a stroke and was in a coma.  No hope was offered for her recovery. 
Rebekah sat, holding her comatose sister’s hand, thinking of the boys they had made fun of in school and how they had giggled about which ones they liked.  Leah had been more of a friend than a sister, really; she had been her best friend.  Now she was a lifeless shell, with tubes and wires going into her and a bag hooked on the side of her bed, collecting urine. 

She could be like this the rest of her life.  She’s only twenty one.  It didn’t seem fair.  Leah never had a harsh word for anyone, not until the day that
Rebekah told her she was pregnant with Nick’s child.  Leah had been so upset then that she had slapped her.  Soon after that, she had hemorrhaged during childbirth and her heart had stopped beating long enough to give her brain damage.  Rebekah had long felt badgered by feelings of regret, thinking that it was somehow her fault.  Now all she regretted was that they couldn’t take back the hard words.  She wished, with all her heart, they could have more time together. 

Despite
their, Rebekah and Ezekiel couldn’t stay at the hospital all day.  She had Rachel and the other children to think of.  He had the milking and his shop to care for.  Leaving the rest of the family behind, they left as evening fell.

She got a late dinner on the table
amid Mother Yoder’s incessant carping, and got the children off to bed, except for Jakob, who characteristically had disappeared again. 
Probably torturing some poor animal,
Rebekah thought with a shudder.

Now with Ezekiel out tending the
livestock, she sat in her bedroom, in front of the wash basin in her underwear, cleansing the day’s sweat and sorrow from her.  She wondered if Leah would die that night and hoped she could be there to hold her hand when she did pass.

She heard the door open and looked up to see Jakob standing in the doorway. 

“Get out.  I’m not dressed.”

“I can see that.”  He stood, leering.

Her breathing instantly constricted.

“Your father
—”

“My father won’t do shit.”  His voice was incomparably soft.  Somehow, it made his words even more menacing. 

He looked her up and down.  Her face burned. 

“You,” he licked his lips, “look good.”

She crossed her arms in front of her breasts.  “Get out of here.  Now!”  She tried to make her words sound strong, formidable even, but instead they came out as a squeak.

He laughed without mirth.

“I think you know that I will—” His words were cut off by the sound of Ezekiel trodding into the house and speaking to Mother Yoder.  She was never so glad for his coming in the door.  Jakob did not look disconcerted, however.  He just merely smirked at her once more and left.

That night, among her thoughts of Leah, she chewed over what Jakob had been about to say. 

I think you know that I will—’  What?
 
What will Jakob do?

 

Chapter Nine

 

Wednesday

Before sunup the next morning
Rebekah’s father came to get her with an English driving a van to head back to the hospital.  Constance Bontrager had not left her daughter’s side all night.  She had borrowed a nurse’s cell phone to leave alarming news on the answering machine the Community shared. Leah’s condition had worsened.  She would not last another day.  Rebekah quickly packed enough clean cloth diapers in a bag for Rachel and piled in the van with the rest of the family. 

The entire ride to the hospital, all
Rebekah could do was pray that she got a chance to say goodbye
.  I know she won’t wake up, but if she is alive, won’t she hear me, somehow?  Can she feel the touch of my hand on hers?  Will she pass knowing that she is loved and will be missed?

At one point, Ezekiel’s arm went up on the back of the seat of the van, behind
Rebekah’s shoulders.  She dismissed it. 
He’s stretching out his arm in this crowded van, nothing more
.  She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the smell of him: days of stale sweat, tobacco smoke, and dirt. 

She wanted love and comfort.  She wanted tender touch, but she wanted them from Nick, not this smelly toad to whom she was married.  She realized in dismay that Nick would come to the gas station that morning and wait for her
.  He would wonder why she wasn’t there and worry about her.  She had not had an opportunity to let him know about Leah’s condition and she wanted so much to talk to him about it.

That she would miss loving him today did not cross her mind.  That she desperately needed him beside her to hold her hand while she held Leah’s besieged her heart.  There could be no comfort, no
solace.  Once more, she was forced into stiffening her upper lip and tightening her jaw while her voice would speak only mild tones to comfort those around her.  She knew this would be especially hard on their mother.  If Constance Bontrager had a favorite child, it would have been Leah.  Rebekah observed this throughout childhood without any rancor or jealousy.  Of course Leah would be her mother’s favorite.  Leah was everybody’s favorite, including Rebekah’s.  It seemed almost a matter of birthright.

A
t the hospital, Leah looked even more ghastly than the day before.  Constance Bontrager sat by her daughter’s bedside, an untouched cup of coffee in her hand, looking nearly as haggard as Leah.  Rebekah’s father sat beside his wife, not physically touching but seemingly attentive all the same. 
I wonder if they touch without touching, the way Nick and I can
.  The room was filled with sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and close friends.  They all moved over to make room for a few more and Rebekah went to the side of her sister’s bed and sat on the edge of it, listening to the harsh sounds of Leah’s breathing. 
She sounds like she is drowning.
  She took her sister’s hand, so cool and clammy inside her own warm one and silently spoke to her.

Leah, I know that you can hear me now.  Remember the times we baked cookies together?  Remember the time we forgot the sugar and baking soda and they turned out terrible and we had to eat them anyway?  Remember the times we played hooky from school so we could go out in the fields and pick daisies to braid and wear as crowns on our heads?  Remember the time I broke Mother’s favorite dish and you told her you broke it so you would get the switching and not me?  Well, I remember, Leah
. I will always remember and never forget you.  You were the one who showed me what love was and if it weren’t for you, I would never know.  I’m sorry for all the times I teased you and for the times I didn’t love you as well as you loved me.  I am sorry for disappointing you by loving Nick and I hope you can forgive me.  I hope to see you in Heaven, Leah, but I don’t know if I will.  I won’t be going there because I’m not as good as you are, and I never will be.  So, I just hope you are happy where you go to be with Jesus Christ.  Goodbye, my sweet Leah, goodbye.

And with that,
Rebekah kissed her sister’s forehead and waited with the rest of the family until late that evening when Leah’s breathing came to an halt.

Riding home, Elder
Bontrager spoke quietly to other family members regarding the funeral.  It was to be in three days.  Constance Bontrager sat beside her husband, silently weeping.  It was the most emotion Rebekah had ever seen from her mother.  The van stopped for supper and Ezekiel asked her if she wanted anything.  She shook her head.  She could not put food in her mouth; she could not let tears out.  Ezekiel looked lost, as if wanting to say something.  She dismissed him.  He was always lost.  He rarely spoke to her.  She had nothing to say to him. 
Why start now?

That night, Rachel was fussily refusing to sleep.  R
ebekah, thankful for a reason to harbor her emotions inside, walked the downstairs floor with her, humming softly until the infant dropped off.  She did not hear Ezekiel’s snores as she came in their bedroom.  Putting Rachel into her cradle, Rebekah changed into her nightgown to go to bed, attempting to be silent so as not to wake Ezekiel.  She had never been so physically, emotionally, and spiritually depleted, and was grateful that the day had ended so she could get a few hours of quiet before the next day began and funeral arrangements had to be made.  In three days, family, friends and distant relations from all over the country would be in the Community to visit them and pay their last respects to Leah.  There would be a day of singing and prayer and readings from the Scriptures.  Leah’s body would be there in a wooden box, dressed in her Sunday best, and people would file in and out of her parents’ great room to say goodbye.  Rebekah didn’t want to go near Leah’s dead body.  It wasn’t that she was afraid; she had been around death from her earliest memories.  It was that she had already said her goodbye in the hospital and anything else added would simply detract from what she and Leah had already shared.

As she climbed into bed she became aware that
not only was Ezekiel not asleep but that he had been waiting for her.  His eyes glittered darkly in the moonlight coming in the window.  As her eyes adjusted to the shadows, she saw the outline of his shoulders.  He was not wearing his nightshirt.

“Been waiting for you.”  He grasped her bloomers and tugged them off, throwing them to the floor. 
Holy fucking hell!  Of all nights, why can’t you leave me alone this one night?

He paid no heed to the stiffening of her body as he parted her legs and inserted his swollen
dick in her, grunting and heaving fast and furiously in and out of her until he finally expelled his semen into her and collapsed in a heavy heap.  She turned her face away from him. 
What a pig
.

“It’s
gud
,” he croaked as he rolled off of her.

By God, I’m glad it’s good for you,
she thought coldly.  Anger added to her turmoil of emotions, she knew there would be no sleeping now.               

She rolled over and faced the wall, listening to Ezekiel’s resounding snores until just before the sun peeked out from the shadows of the earth.

 

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