An Amish Wedding (12 page)

“
Ach
, but I’ve learned my lesson, Luke Lantz. No more kissing strangers in the woods.”

“Nee.”
He swallowed, trying to regulate his breathing. “None of that.”

“All right. Then I’ll be going.” She patted him jauntily on the arm.

He turned to watch her go. “Don’t forget,” he called, unable to still a last bit of anxiety. “I’ll be waiting out back of your house, and if you’re not there in two hours I’ll . . .”

She cracked open the barn door and gave him a sidelong glance. “You’ll what?”

“Just be there.”

He watched her smile and slip out into the light while he stood fretting in the dimness of the barn.

Chapter Twenty

R
OSE CLIMBED THROUGH THE WOODS, EXCITED AT THE
prospect of an adventure, even one as simple as bringing some food and supplies to a woman in need. Of course, she wondered why the
Englisch
woman had not gone to her own people or family, but Rose hadn’t been able to press any more information out of Luke and had decided that it didn’t matter. It was part of
Derr Herr
’s will that she help those who were less fortunate and in want. And surely a woman living in a tent in the middle of the forest with children was in want.

Time slipped by quickly till she came to the stand of pines. The tent was cleverly disguised from view by branches and bracken, and she might have overlooked it had she not been told it was there. She approached the blue liner of the shelter cautiously, calling out to make her presence known.

“Hello! Heelloo! I’m a friend of Luke’s!” she called out, stepping closer. She noticed a goat tethered nearby and a pen of chickens.

Then she heard rustling and the high-pitched squeal of a child, and a beautiful dark-haired woman came out of the tent. She balanced a red-faced toddler on her hip and stared at Rose with worry in her dark eyes.

Rose smiled. “Please . . . it’s all right. Luke sent me.”

“Is something wrong with him?” The woman’s tone was anxious.

Rose had to bite down on a sudden flare of jealousy; it was more than a fair question when he’d been such a help to the family. “He had a small accident. Just a sprained ankle. But he can’t make it up here on crutches, so he asked me to come instead. May I come in?”

“Yes . . . please. I—I’m Sylvia. This is Bobby, my boy. My little girl, Ally, is taking a nap. There’s not a whole lot for her to do when her brother’s fussy.” The woman held open the tent flap.

Rose entered to find a veritable storehouse of items that had gone missing from the community over the past few months. She had to marvel at the larger items, wondering how Luke had hefted them through the woods alone. Then her gaze fell on the little girl curled up beneath a nine-patch quilt. Her long, black curls cascaded over the fabric squares, and Rose felt a tightness in her chest at the kinship of the skin and hair coloring she shared with the child.

“I suppose Luke’s told you everything about us . . . I mean, for one of your people to come up here.” Sylvia tried to put Bobby down, but he began to sniffle, and she scooped him back up with a sigh.

“One of my people?” Rose asked. “You mean Amish.”

“Yes, sorry. Does Luke have good friendships with the Amish?”

Rose placed her basket on a small chest of drawers. “Luke
is
Amish,” she said.

The woman laughed low, revealing a devastating smile. “Luke? Amish? Are you sure we know the same person?”

Rose began to unpack her basket, not knowing what to say. Part of her wanted to retort and part of her wanted more of the truth. To this woman and her children, Luke had been
Englisch
. He’d explained to her that the disguise made it easier to move about without attracting curiosity, both in town and in the woods, but she still couldn’t help wondering if that was the full reason.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I said something wrong. Maybe Luke just seems different to us.” Sylvia’s tone was genuine, but her words pricked at Rose’s heart.

“It’s no matter. Look, I’ll probably come again soon. Is there anything else you need?”
And can you tell me why you’re here . . . in the middle of nowhere, with my betrothed as your provider?

“The Lord has blessed us already with Luke’s providing, and now yours. We’re grateful for whatever you bring. Hopefully, it won’t be much longer until Jim . . . well, you know.”

Rose wanted to say that she had no idea what
until
meant or who Jim was, but she was glad that the woman’s tone had lingered longingly over the man’s name. She also felt chagrined that the woman mentioned the Lord with such genuineness while she was hardly having Christian feelings herself. Still, Luke could have told her more, since Sylvia didn’t seem to have a problem with her knowing.

She’d just placed the final jar of preserves on a stand when a small, cherubic voice spoke up from the little bed.

“Mommy . . . who’s that?” The little girl scooted up to grab at her mother’s jeans.

“A friend of Luke’s,” Sylvia responded, stroking her daughter’s hair.

“I’m Rose.”

The child’s eyes grew wide with interest. “Your hair’s like mine. Does Luke think it’s pretty too? Why are you dressed up all funny? Did you see my pet goat? Is it Halloween yet? Mommy, when can I have a costume?”

“Shhh,” Sylvia admonished.

“It’s all right.” Rose smiled. “But I need to be going before it gets dark.”

“Wait!” Ally cried. “I always make a picture for Luke to take when he visits my daddy. Shall I give it to you?”

“Certainly,” Rose said. She accepted the coloring sheet the child tore painstakingly from the book and made a mental note to bring more toys and things to occupy the little girl the next time she came.
“Danki,”
she said. “That means thank you.” She chuckled as Ally tried to get her tongue around the strange syllables.

“Thank you again,” Sylvia said as she lifted the tent flap. “And be careful.”

“I will. Don’t worry.” Rose waved good-bye and set out down through the maze of trees, so deep in thought that she didn’t notice when she took a wrong turn.

Chapter Twenty-One

L
UKE HAD DRIVEN THE BUGGY ROUND THE BACK WAY OF
the Benders’ property at the expense of his ankle and now swung along between his crutches, anxious and in pain. It was already over two hours since Rose had left.
I never should have let her go
, he berated himself.

He kept searching the distant tree line when a voice behind him nearly made him jump out of his skin.

“Is that you, Luke?”
Aenti
Tabby asked with curiosity.

“
Ya
, ma’am . . . I was just, uh, waiting for Rose.”

“Behind the barn? And with your ankle? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable inside?”

The older woman walked up to him with a smile, but her eyes were keen. Luke sighed inwardly. It was next to impossible to keep a secret from
Aenti
Tabby.

“Rose went up to the woods to gather . . . um . . . late berries or something, and I said I’d wait here until she—”

Tabby crossed her arms over her ample bosom and harrumphed loudly. “Luke Lantz! Has Rose run off because you two were arguing? Is she out alone this time of the evening?”

“Uh . . . that sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll get the boys to go and find her then,” Tabby said.

“That would be
wunderbaar
,” Luke agreed, relieved that someone could search for her.

“Who needs finding,
Aenti
Tabby?” Rose asked breezily as she came soft-footed from the dark field.

Luke blew out a sigh of relief, but he wanted to holler at her too, for looking so casual and pretty when he’d been worried sick.

“There you are, child!”
Aenti
Tabby exclaimed. “And a
gut
thing too. It’s never wise to run off when you’re having a bit of a spat. It’s better to stay and work things out.”

Luke threw Rose a pleading glance as she slowed her steps and brought her swinging basket to an abrupt halt.

“Uh,
Aenti
Tabby, it was my fault, in truth,” Luke supplied.

“As usual,” Rose murmured, and he had to suppress a smile.

“Well, it’s too cold out here. Come inside and warm up, the both of you.”
Aenti
Tabby turned to go.

“We’ll be along shortly,” Rose called.

Luke watched her approach warily, wondering how the time at the tent had gone. Then he caught the heat in her green eyes and thought they wouldn’t be going into the house anytime soon.

R
OSE WATCHED HIM STANDING IN THE TWILIGHT AND
thought how handsome he was, then frowned at the thought. Why her mind would drift to how he looked when she had a thousand questions to ask was beyond her understanding.

“How were they?” he asked.

“Beautiful,” she said shortly, speaking the first word that came to mind.

He smiled. “Ally’s like you, I think.”

She shrugged, flicking her flashlight on and off for a moment. “Sylvia didn’t know you were Amish . . . You are Amish, right?”

He laughed. “
Ya
, Rose.”

“It’s not funny. Besides the excuse of moving about, why else did you pretend to be something else . . .
Englisch
?”

He sobered suddenly. “You seemed to like it well enough at times.”

She didn’t appreciate the reminder and bit back an angry retort, remembering what the Bible said about a soft answer turning away wrath. “That is true. But I hope that it was the real you, no matter your dress, who touched and kissed me those times.”

“It was. I’m sorry.”

“So, will you finally tell me about Sylvia?”

He sighed. “Her husband’s name is Jim—she probably mentioned that.”

Rose nodded.

“Well, Jim knew me as
Englisch
, or at least I thought he did . . .”

He stopped, and Rose sighed and slapped her hands against her sides. “Luke, I know you say this isn’t your secret to tell, but I’m involved now. I’ve seen that woman and her children. They shouldn’t be living alone—it’s dangerous.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Don’t think about it a hundred times a day?”

“Then tell me why they are there.” She waited.

“All right. All right.” He took a deep breath and turned away from her to face the dark fields. “Before I joined the church, and after
Mamm
died, I sort of lost things in my head. One part of me did all the right things—saw you, went to church, worked; but one part of me was wild with pain and anger. But I had to keep that part of myself secret. I couldn’t hurt
Daed
. . . or you.”

“Maybe I would have understood,” she said softly.

“No, not when I didn’t understand myself. So I just kept up two parts of me, two lives . . . I started going into town and running around with this gang of
Englischers
. They had no idea I was Amish, but this wasn’t like
rumschpringe
. They were a dangerous lot . . . drugs, drinking, crime. When I began to see how they really lived, I backed away. Most of them were homeless, so when I would head back to my warm bed at the house, they were sleeping under bridges, trying to avoid the shelters because they thought they didn’t need the help.” He pivoted on his crutches to face her. “My
mamm
volunteered at one of the homeless shelters in town. Did you know that?”

“Nee
. . . an
Englisch
shelter?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “
Ya
. How many homeless Amish do you know?” He exhaled. “I’m sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“And I didn’t mean to question . . . I just . . . your
mamm
was so busy about her own house.”

“She was, but she found time to give to others too . . . even if it was unusual to find an Amish woman volunteering alone at a place like that.”

“Did your
daed
know?”

“We all did . . . we kind of teased her about it too—‘going looking for trouble,’ I said once.” He looked grim. “When she got sick, she had me take some jellies and things down there. At first I didn’t want to go. I thought it was a dirty place, foul smelling . . . full of
Englischers
who supposedly wouldn’t work. But later I discovered the truth . . . the secret that nobody
chooses
to be homeless, at least not at first.
Ach
, there were the boys I ran with, to be sure, but there were families too . . . children.”