The Amish Cowboy's Homecoming Read online

  Maybe she uses a special soap, he mused. Perhaps one of the kinds Esther Brenneman makes. The idea made him think of his visit with them the other night. How considerate Lucas had been to invite him in, even at that late hour. They’d been having such a pleasant conversation, then Isaac didn’t know what happened. Suddenly, he’d asked twenty questions about Grace.

  “You seem very interested in her,” Esther had said, flat out. He’d felt the blood drain from his face and couldn’t seem to find anywhere to look. Probably sensing Isaac’s discomfort at such a blatant statement, Lucas had jumped in about a new type of hay he’d just ordered from Car-Mar-Farm. After that, it seemed that Esther couldn’t keep from snickering about something every time their eyes had met.

  “I think you missed a turn.”

  Grace’s voice snapped Isaac awake from his thoughts. Yep, he’d most certainly missed a turn. “Shortcut,” he said, lifting a crooked smile.

  The sun was rising, and with it came the sounds of other buggies and working farms, even a few cars driving safely past them.

  “What is Sadie doing today?” Grace asked as she tucked her hands inside the sleeves of her sweater. Isaac was wearing a heavy black coat over his vest and white shirt, but hadn’t realized being out so early this morning might be cold.

  “I think there’s a blanket in the back,” he said.

  “There is.” Grace nodded. “Under the bench seat. I’ve been in this buggy a few times.”

  “With Collin Chupp?” he blurted without thinking, feeling a tightness in his chest that he didn’t like at all.

  “Maybe,” Grace said, her blue eyes turned to him. “Or maybe with his mother. And I was asking about Sadie. It’s a Saturday, so no school. What does she do when you’re not home?”

  “Actually,” Isaac said after a few deep breaths, “Esther Brenneman is taking her for the day. Apparently, they have friends who raise pigmy goats as pets.”

  “Oh my goodness!” Grace gasped. “In Honey Brook?”

  “Few miles north of town,” he replied. Then, noticing how she’d turned to face him, excitement in her expression, he added, “Maybe you and I can go with them next time.”

  “I’d love that,” she said. A moment later, she laughed under her breath. “I’m not all that natural with children, but your daughter’s adorable, by the way.”

  Isaac smiled and bowed his head. “Danke. She hasn’t had the easiest life thus far. I pray her future is much better.”

  Grace didn’t reply, didn’t speak at all. And when Isaac glanced her way, he saw that she was frowning, chewing on a fingernail.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Jah.” She nodded. “She said something to me the first time she was over playing with my sisters.”

  “Sadie did?”

  “Something about how she hopes you two will have a house of your own again, and I guess she must’ve overheard you talking about the people you were living with in Silver Springs. She said you didn’t want to stay there.”

  As he listened, Isaac’s throat grew tight, and he pulled at the collar of his shirt. “I should’ve been more careful about that,” he said quietly, after a long pause. “She doesn’t need to know anything about…that.” He heard himself exhale loudly, mostly in frustration at himself.

  Grace didn’t say anything but drew something out of her backpack. “Hot coffee with brown sugar,” she said, passing him a thermos. Her gaze on him was so sympathetic, as if sensing he needed extra kindness.

  “Danke,” he said, taking it, though instead of going for a drink, he put it on his lap. “After my wife passed away,” he began slowly, while staring at the tips of the horses’ ears, “I had to sell our house. The bank would’ve repossessed it in time because I couldn’t work as much—couldn’t be away from home. Sadie was only a baby.” He kept his gaze straight ahead. “Most of my siblings live in Silver Springs, but they all have very busy lives, large families. I didn’t want to impose on them.” He pressed his lips together. “I didn’t have much choice other than for Sadie and me to move in with Martha’s folks.”

  “That was your wife’s name?” Grace asked, her voice gentle. “Martha?”

  “Aye. We married young.” He paused to chuckle. “Young even by Amish standards. We grew up in the same village, but I didn’t know her family very well, though they seemed like normal folks.” He paused again. “I was naive. I didn’t understand yet that appearances can be deceiving.”

  When his breathing became noticeably heavy and he didn’t continue speaking, Grace asked, “Would you like me to drive for a while?”

  Isaac focused on the road, realizing they’d already traveled quite far, and he hadn’t been paying attention. The street sign ahead showed that they weren’t lost, at least. But still, he couldn’t get carried away by his thoughts like that again, dwell on a subject so hard on his heart.

  But then he looked at Grace—the woman who somehow in just a few weeks had become a good friend to him, someone he knew he could talk to.

  “I was working long hours back then, sometimes training ten horses at the same time. Business was getting better as my reputation became more widespread, but Sadie still needed looking after. I couldn’t be both mother and father to her then. There just wasn’t time.”

  “I understand,” Grace said. “I’d think her grossdaadi and mammi were taking care of her?”

  “My in-laws,” Isaac said after taking a beat, “they aren’t the people I thought they were. I want Sadie to be raised in a true Christian home, full of kindness and love, forgiveness and obedience. Just because a family may appear to be all those things doesn’t mean that sometimes they’re not.” He took off his hat and massaged the back of his neck. “The words I heard Sadie repeating—my innocent daughter.” He shook his head, anger brewing in his heart again.

  Suddenly, he felt pressure on his arm. When he looked down, Grace’s hand was there, wrapping around it just above his elbow. The simple touch was so calming to him, so welcome, that he felt no shame in continuing.

  “We can’t go back to that house,” Isaac added. “I won’t allow it. A few months ago, I decided that I’d do whatever it takes to earn enough to move her out of that environment for good. Some Mennonite friends of mine helped me build a website, get a phone, and learn how to email. That brought in more business, but not enough.” He sighed. “I needed to figure out how to reach the next level, find a higher level of clientele.”

  Lost in his thoughts again, Isaac balled his hands into fists and squeezed; otherwise, he might be tempted to let out a yell at the top of his lungs.

  “And that’s why you came to Honey Brook.” Grace’s voice was soft, but there was a ring of understanding behind it, distracting him enough to feel calm again. “To train Cincinnati. To use that income to buy a house and also get the Englisher customers, like Travis Carlson said.”

  “Grace.” Isaac didn’t know what to say. She was exactly right, although now his motivations and expectations were suddenly muddled.

  She exhaled softly. “I understand. We both really need that money. Me for Maam’s surgery, and you to make a better life for Sadie. It’s a problem.”

  He nodded, guilt giving him a slight headache, but he was also relieved that she finally knew where he was coming from. Though that didn’t solve anything.

  “Can we still be friends?” she asked.

  The question made Isaac chuckle. When he didn’t answer, Grace gave his arm a little squeeze.

  “I really hope we can,” she added.

  It wasn’t until right then—at the first thought that something like this might cause them to not be friends—that Isaac realized how important Grace’s friendship was to him. He felt comfortable sharing with her…even something as personal as the situation with Sadie.

  But socializing with her, chitchatting during their many training sessions togethe
r, had also become vital to his happiness. He loved being around her, teaching her. Learning from her.

  Feeling her hand on his arm.

  “You offered to drive earlier,” he said, needing to clear his head. Thinking about Grace Zook in that way wasn’t going to solve anything, either. “Do you mind?”

  Grace lowered her chin and looked at him through her eyelashes. “Please,” she scoffed lightly. “Didn’t I tell you once that I probably drive a buggy better than you?”

  Isaac laughed, then slowed the buggy to a stop. Normally, if they were going to switch seats, one of them would climb out of the buggy while the other would slide over. Instead, Isaac simply leaned back and placed his hands on Grace’s waist, pulling her to stand then across his lap as he slid over.

  “Mercy,” she whispered after taking in a sharp breath.

  “Did I shock you?”

  A hand was at her throat, shoulders rising and falling with her quick breaths, keeping her eyes away from him. Isaac reckoned she would be just fine.

  “I’m sure you know that the Ordnungs in Honey Brook and Silver Springs vary a bit, jah? Did you know the courting allowances are quite different, too?” he asked conversationally, teasingly, as he handed her the reins.

  “N-no,” Grace said, still staring straight ahead.

  “We’re allowed to touch, hold hands, even before the first date if there’s a known intention between the couple. And when you’re dating, me touching you like I just did…” He paused, waiting for her reaction, not disappointed when she sent him a lightning-fast glance. “Well, that’d be perfectly acceptable.”

  “We’re not…dating,” Grace said, finally turning to face him. Her cheeks were pink, as Isaac knew they would be.

  “True.” He tapped his chin with an index finger, teasing her again. “Nor has it ever once crossed my mind.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “You’re a very wicked man, Isaac King,” Grace said after snorting a laugh, swatting him on the arm in a playful way, like back when she’d thought he was married. Once she realized he was teasing her, she managed to pull herself together. Though it might’ve been difficult getting the memory out of her mind of him holding her around the waist like that, his hands strong and confident as they’d switched seats.

  “Don’t know what you’re referring to,” Isaac said, moving the front of his hat down over his eyes. “Less than a mile now,” he added, pointing to a makeshift street sign, advertising the West Reading Auction and Mud Sale.

  Seeing the sign, Grace’s heart began beating faster, excitement flowing through her body. “How fast do these horses go?” she said, flicking the reins, noticing the number of buggies suddenly on the road with them.

  Are they all on the way to the big event?

  Isaac tapped the face of his watch. “It’s barely eight thirty,” he said. “Don’t worry, they won’t dare start without us.”

  Grace couldn’t help giggling as she carefully guided their buggy behind the one in front of them, the procession of trucks, buggies, and carriages forming an organized line. The marginal wait to enter the huge grassy field—the temporary parking lot—was almost more than she could take. She filled the time by asking Isaac every question she could think of about what to expect… Where should they go first? Eat first? See first?

  “Over there,” Isaac said once her questions ran out. “We’ll water the horses then let them loose in the pasture with the others.”

  As soon as she parked the buggy, Isaac taking care of the horses, Grace felt almost overwhelmed by her surroundings. She’d attended a wedding once for people from two different villages. It had seemed everyone from both communities was there. But that was nothing compared to the number of people at the mud sale.

  And it wasn’t just the crowds, but so many different cultures all in one place. Mixed among the many Englisher trucks and trailers, she saw plenty of gray Amish carriages, more than a few market wagons—indicating that bishops or preachers were there—rows of black buggies driven by the Mennonites, and even a spattering of spring wagons, which were traditionally driven by youth in the county.

  “Ya doing okay?” Isaac asked, coming up from behind.

  “Why?” Grace asked, wondering if she was standing out.

  “That smile on your face.” He pointed at her mouth. “I wasn’t sure if it was because you’re happy, or if two hummingbirds were holding up the corners of your lips.”

  Grace threw her hands over her grinning mouth. “Happy,” she said.

  As they neared the entrance, Grace counted four large stages, two livestock rings, plows and other farming equipment lined up in rows, and at least half a dozen brightly colored tents set up right in the middle.

  “Heavens,” she said under her breath, trying to take it all in. A group of children ran by, none of them over ten years old, some in solid colored dresses, others in calico. Grace couldn’t help wondering if they were all from one family, or even from the same Anabaptist sect.

  Maybe strangers were already making new friends at the mud sale. Her heart warmed at the idea.

  “Anything catching your eye?” Isaac asked, unbuttoning his heavy black coat, as the air was finally warming.

  Grace could only shake her head. “I’m speechless,” she finally said, turning in a small circle.

  “Well, I’m feeling pretty hungry after that long drive. How about food?”

  “Aye. Can we go there?” Straight ahead, she saw a sign selling Pennsylvania Dutch chicken corn soup. “That sounds delicious.”

  “Judging by the long line,” Isaac said, “It must be.”

  “Do you mind?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “It’s where I was going to suggest we head first. Chicken corn soup is a staple at these auctions. Why don’t you stand in line? I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

  “Alone?” Grace said, suddenly feeling like an ant in a world of giants.

  “Grace Zook,” Isaac said, crossing his arms. “I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”

  “I’m not…afraid,” she said, trying to shoo away the nervous butterflies in her stomach. Without another word, she marched right over to the soup line and took her place at the end.

  She watched Isaac laugh, wave a goodbye, then disappear into the crowd.

  Grace took in a deep breath, begging herself to have courage. She’d faced down more than a few aggressive four-legged animals in her life, and Isaac was right: she’d never backed away.

  This is a new experience for me, she silently told herself. A new place. That’s all.

  “Hey.”

  Grace turned around to see two English women in line behind her. Youngish—maybe slightly younger than herself. They were both dressed in pants, tall rubber boots, and sweaters that zipped up the front. The dark-haired woman’s boots were bright pink.

  “Guder daag,” she replied out of politeness, unconsciously touching the front of her plain black sweater.

  “Have you ever had this soup before?” the other one asked. She had short blonde hair that fell to different lengths on either side of her face.

  “Nay.” Grace shook her head. She was about to turn around, signifying an end to their conversation, but wasn’t this her day to try new and exciting things? “But I hear it’s very good,” she added, trying to speak clear English.

  “Gut,” the blonde said with a smile. “I like how you say that. Your accent is super beautiful.”

  Grace couldn’t help smiling, for it was they who had the accents. “Danke—thank you,” she said.

  “I’ve never been to one of these,” the dark-haired girl said as she rubbed her hands together.

  “Neither have I,” Grace said. “It’s a bit…ah…astonishing, to be honest.”

  The blonde elbowed her friend. “See, Lola, I’m not the only one who’s freaking out.” Sh
e paused and swiveled her head around, eyes wide. “I’m afraid I’ll get lost.”

  “We’re from DC,” the other one said, as the line began to move. Lola—that was her name. “We’re here on vacation. Well—not really vacation. I’m rushing Sigma Delta Tau at Temple this fall. They usually don’t take upperclassmen, but I really wanna get in. My mom and Aunt Ashlee were both Sig Delts, so I’m practically a legacy.”

  “I told you, that doesn’t matter,” the blonde said to her friend. “Bethany Ann and Tyler’s girlfriend are both on the admission board.” She tucked some hair behind one ear. “It’s grades and extracurricular. You shouldn’t have quit cheer last year.”

  “Geez, Hollis, don’t you think I know?”

  The girls were talking so fast that Grace almost couldn’t keep up. Temple, she knew, was a college in Philadelphia. They must’ve been talking about classes they were taking.

  “Anyway,” Hollis continued, addressing Grace. “It’s not a vacation. My cousin’s from Philly and they own land out here, so we decided to take a road trip.”

  “Jah. Fun,” Grace offered when she’d stopped talking. “We road trip, too. ’Course it takes a lot longer for us.”

  There was a heavy pause, and Grace hoped she wasn’t going to have to explain her little joke.

  “Ohmigosh! That’s hilarious!” Lola grabbed onto her friend’s arm and they both dissolved in laughter.

  “Yeah, because you don’t drive cars!” Hollis added, laughing so hard that tears were clinging to her long, dark eyelashes. “You’re so clever—that means like smart-funny. How long did it take you to get here today?”

  “Almost three hours,” Grace said, nearing the counter to order their food. “I don’t know how many miles, but I’m sure it would take less than half the time in a car.”

  “So, you came in one of those horse-drawn buggies?” Hollis gestured toward the parking lot.

  “Aye.” Grace nodded. “I even drove half the time.”