Harvest of Hearts (28 page)

Matthew nodded and looked at Shanna. “He’s the other man in our trio. Jacob, Josh, and I are best friends. So, you’ll probably get to know him well.” He turned back to Jacob. “I’m considering parceling up some of that land I’m buying. Maybe Josh will want some. I won’t need all that acreage.”

“I’d take you up on it, but Daniel has already offered me land on his farm,” Jacob said. “With only girls in the family, he’s glad to have me marrying Bex and willing to stay and work in his blacksmith shop. We’ve started preparations for building a haus. Want to come out and help sometime?”

Matthew shrugged. “Jah. I can find some time in the evenings, maybe.”

“Bring Shanna. We can spend more time together.” Becky picked up a chicken leg and waved it in the air. “And, Shanna, your mamm said something this morning about having a quilt frolic at your haus next week. She mentioned getting a late start on your hope chest.”

Shanna could feel her cheeks heating. “She didn’t say anything to me.” But apparently Mamm had her sights firmly set on Shanna getting married soon. “Besides, who said I’m getting married?”

“Other than me, you mean?” Matthew grinned at her.

Becky put a hand on Shanna’s. “Most Amish girls start their hope chests early. You know that.”

“Is there room for me, or will I be in the way?” Annie stood above them, holding a plate of food. She smiled at Shanna, but it looked like a sugary-sweet smile. How much of their conversation had she overheard? The way Annie looked at her, sitting so close to Matthew, she suddenly became aware of how it must appear. Less than six inches separated them. If anyone looked down the hill and saw them….

He’d been the one to tug her closer. Truthfully, she didn’t want to move away. But there was their reputation to consider, and she already treaded on dangerous ground. She didn’t want to drag him down by association.

Annie’s smile remained intact. “If you sit any closer, you’ll be in his lap.”

Matthew picked up his glass and took a long swig of iced tea.

Now, there’s an idea.
Shanna bit her tongue to keep from saying it out loud. She could imagine how that’d go over.

She looked up at Annie, then over at Matthew. She hoped no one saw the tears of hurt that stung her eyes at being chastised for breaking the rules again, at being judged unfairly again. The pain of Annie’s judgment burned through her, and she quickly tried to cover it with humor. She shrugged. “Ach, I considered it, but I didn’t want to muss my dress by sitting on his dinner. Maybe later.” When Annie’s eyebrows shot up, Shanna took the bait and moved away, putting a good foot between her and Matthew. She missed his closeness immediately.

“Please, join us,” Jacob finally said, then went back to teasing Emma with a mashed-up piece of potato from his salad. The boppli opened her mouth every time the fork came near. Finally, he slid the food into her mouth.

Annie sat down opposite Matthew. She put her plate on her lap, then looked at him head-on. “So, Matthew. I heard you put a bid on a property. Care to tell us about it?”

Shanna raised her eyebrows. Matthew had never told her that he’d made an offer. It seemed as if he would have.

He lifted a shoulder. “Ach, there’s nothing to tell. Levi guided me through making an offer, and now, we wait. We should hear something soon, I think.”

Annie fluttered her eyelashes. “Well, I’m sure you made a gut choice. I can’t wait to see it.”

He gave her a small, noncommittal smile but then turned his attention back to his plate, making no promises.

When Shanna finished her meal, she set the plate aside, ready for dessert. Yet she’d feel uncomfortable digging into Becky’s picnic basket to get the chocolate cream pie. Though she had said she’d share it.

Becky seemed to read her thoughts. She handed her empty plate to Shanna, then reached inside the basket, lifted out the pie, and set it in the middle of the quilt. “This is for us to share. I attempted to duplicate Sara Shultz’s recipe. You’ll have to tell me how I did.” She closed the lid. “I have another one for Shanna and me to share.”

So, they’d have the pie, but private conversation would be out.

“I’d kum over tonight, but we have the singing. Are you going?” Becky pushed the basket off of the quilt and leaned back.

Shanna nodded. “I plan to.”

“Gut. Maybe we can talk then. If not, I can kum over tomorrow nacht. Will you be home?”

“Jah. But I’m sleeping in the barn.”

“Matthew told me you’re staying in an apartment out there. I’d be curious to see it,” Becky said.

“I wish you would have told me you brought dessert for just us.” Matthew eyed the chocolate cream pie. “It looks wunderbaar, but I already have a slice of apple pie.”

Becky glanced at his plate. “You can make room for a small slice. That one isn’t very large.”

“Maybe later.” Matthew consumed the slice of apple pie in several bites, then set his empty plate on the ground and stood.

***

He needed to escape. Annie had been eyeing him like he was her favorite candy bar. And wearing a fake-looking smile that seemed to indicate to Matthew that she was upset with someone, but for what? Shanna, for being the one he was interested in? Probably. After all, Jacob had tried to fix Matthew up with Annie soon after he’d arrived. He hadn’t been at all interested in her, though. And Annie hadn’t seemed impressed with him, either. At least, not until he’d made an offer on that property and gotten involved with Shanna, for lack of a better way to put it.

“Want to go for a walk?” He extended a hand to Shanna.

She met his eyes, then put her hand in his and rose to her feet.

Matthew didn’t let go but still held her hand as they walked downhill toward the lake. When they stepped into a copse of trees, he moved his hand to her waist and turned her to face him. “Are you better today?”

She frowned. “Better?”

“Over whatever happened between you and—that Englischer. The thing that made you inhale ice cream like you did.” At least he’d assumed she’d inhaled it. His sisters always did whenever they had a pity party. Their kitchen turned into what his daed called “junk food central” when one of his older sisters cut off a steady courtship.

“Jah. Pretty much,” Shanna said. “Being with you and your friends helped.”

“They want to be your friends, too.” He pulled her close and rested his chin on her head.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “I need friends. I like Becky.”

He hugged her a few more seconds, then slowly pulled away and raised his hand to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes, and he trailed his finger down to her neck, where he felt her pulse pounding.

“You’ll come to the singing tonight, ain’t so?”

“Jah. Joseph will take me.”

“I’ll take you home, if it’s okay, Shanna. I know I’ve sounded presumptuous with some of the things I’ve said, so I’ll ask you now: Will you be my steady girl?”

“Jah.” Her eyes shone with excitement.

His mouth hurt from smiling, so relieved was he that she’d agreed to making their relationship official. He felt like celebrating, and his gaze drifted to her lips. If he kissed her, would he see fireworks, as he had the first time? They’d reminded him of the ones he and Jacob used to set off in the back field.

Until one of them had misfired and burned down a barn.

That had ended that pastime. He’d gotten into huge trouble. His usually mild-mannered daed had yelled at him and made him go to confess to both the barn owner and the district preachers. And Jacob and he had helped with the barn raising.

He knew he shouldn’t kiss her. It would only be asking for trouble. Still, his hand slid around the back of her neck, and he slowly lowered his head. She met him halfway, her arms wrapping more tightly around him. “Matthew,” she whispered, seconds before his lips met hers.

It did seem that fireworks were going off, but at least he wouldn’t have to confess over this type.

He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

There was the sound of a twig snapping on the ground, and then an “Ahem.”

Matthew dropped his arms and stepped back. Shanna staggered backward, and he fought the urge to shelter her with his body to conceal her identity. Instead, he sucked in a breath and turned around to face the person who’d dared to interrupt this private moment.

It was one of the younger preachers. A new one, whose name had been drawn in the past three months. Not the bishop, thankfully, but this was bad enough. Especially after being caught out with Shanna by Bishop Sol last night, when she was dressed in form-fitting Englisch clothes.

The man gave Shanna a cursory glance, then shifted his attention to Matthew. “The bishop and the preachers would like a word with you. Could you kum to my farm tomorrow after the noon meal?”

His stomach churned, but somehow he managed to nod. “Jah, I’ll be there.”

The preacher gave him directions and turned away, but the moment was ruined.

Shanna gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I suppose it’s all on account of me.”

It was, partly. But he’d been complicit, too. He’d initiated their public displays of affection, and he’d offered to drive her car after the buggy accident.

And this discussion with the preachers might be related to that incident, since Bishop Sol had yet to speak to him about it. He’d have to confess to driving a car, which wasn’t permitted for anyone who had joined the church, but that should be the extent of the repercussions.

He grinned at Shanna. “You’re causing all kinds of mischief. Don’t worry, though. Everything I did was my choice. Besides, it’s probably not a big deal. It’s not as if they’re going to send me back to Pennsylvania.” They couldn’t do that, could they?

“If they do, I’ll miss you. I might even kum visit. I’d love to see Lancaster County.”

“They won’t,” he said firmly, checking to make sure his hat was on straight. “But I’ll take you there on our honeymoon so you can meet my family.” He winked at her. “Kum on. We should get back to our friends before we find ourselves in even more trouble.”

***

After Joseph had parked the buggy at the farm where the singing was to be held, Shanna walked up to the barn with him, scanning the yard for Matthew. He’d left the house a bit earlier, taking her horse and buggy. She finally found him, playing volleyball with a large group. She watched him serve the ball, and then some other bu, a young one she didn’t know, hit it back over the net.

She went inside the barn and found Becky seated on a bench along one side of the row of tables. The other side was reserved for the buwe. The chaperones, the parents who owned the farm, had a daughter, Lindy Zook, who was about Shanna’s age. Shanna had been sure Lindy Zook would have married by now. She’d had a steady bu soon after she’d turned sixteen. But it was now three years later, and she still hadn’t wed. Shanna wondered what had happened. Lindy Zook wore a kind of pinched, unhappy expression. She was probably upset that the singing was at her house, with her parents as chaperones.

Shanna understood. She’d been uncomfortable whenever her parents had hosted a singing. It always seemed that Daed had his eye on her the entire night. None of the buwe had ever asked her to take a ride with him. Though, even then, she’d had a reputation for being somewhat of a troublemaker, hanging out with the wild buwe, going to parties, and such. No wonder none of the good Amish buwe had asked her out.

She was surprised Matthew had. Maybe he hadn’t heard the whole story about her yet. If that was the case, it would surely be rectified tomorrow when he met with the bishop and the preachers. Would he change his mind about her when he found out how much trouble she used to get herself into? He probably ought to. Or maybe Daed had already told him, and he’d concluded that she must have outgrown her mischievous ways.

After all, she hadn’t raced a buggy horse bareback across the fields with the neighbor bu once this summer—of course, she hadn’t even seen him. She hadn’t gone down to the back road where the wild buwe used to race their buggies. And she certainly hadn’t attended any parties, aside from the respectable event of Miriam Shultz’s birthday frolic. She’d never tried alcohol or drugs, but she’d been friends with the Amish kids who did. And the preachers probably believed she’d acted the same, or still did.