Never an Amish Bride Page 9

  The next moment, Esther was yanked into a hug. Vivian was laughing, or maybe it was that laugh-cry folks sometimes did when they couldn’t make up their minds. Her skin smelled like honeysuckle soap, which made Esther want to laugh-cry, too.

  She heard Lucas’s quiet laugh, and Eric cleared his throat. “Sorry,” Vivian said, finally letting her go. “I didn’t mean to…wrinkle you. I’m just so, well, I’m overwhelmed, that’s the only way to put it.”

  Feeling a bit overwhelmed herself from all the attention, “You’re welcome” was all Esther could utter.

  “What can I do for you?” Vivian asked. “Would you like a drink—some tea? Won’t you please come inside?”

  “Actually,” Lucas said, “I brought her to see the goats.”

  Just as before, Vivian’s eyes went wide as sunflowers. “You like kids?” she asked Esther.

  “Yes.” Esther smiled, trying not to look too excited. “I adore them.”

  Vivian jetted toward Esther, this time to grab her hand. “Come with me. They’re the cutest we’ve ever had.”

  “She treats them like pets,” Eric said to Lucas as the men followed behind.

  “They are pets,” Vivian said, walking so fast toward the house now that she was practically dragging Esther. “You think I’d let them sleep out in that dreary old barn of yours?”

  “She dresses them up,” Eric continued. “All three were in pink tutus yesterday. I hope none of the neighbors saw.”

  Brand-new baby goats in pink ballerina outfits? Esther almost couldn’t catch her breath, she was so thrilled. Before they’d even reached the house, she heard faint bleating, making her heart skip a beat. The scampering of tiny hooves on hardwood floor made her want to run the final steps.

  Vivian opened the door, allowing Esther to enter first.

  Better than an avalanche of golden retriever pups, she was greeted by three of the softest, furriest, tiniest, most adorable kids she’d ever seen. Without even thinking, she dropped down to the floor.

  If this is my “punishment” for telling a tiny white lie, she thought while allowing herself to be smothered, it just might be worth it!

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lucas wished he had a camera. Remembering his phone, he whipped it out, ready to capture the moment. But he stopped just short of snapping the first picture, recalling the strict policy plain folk had about not wanting to be photographed.

  Even if that policy had softened, he should at least wait and ask Esther’s permission first. So he slid the cell into his pocket and simply enjoyed the scene playing out before him in real time.

  Esther’s happy squeals were so high-pitched, they might’ve registered on the Richter scale. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was suffocating under the three baby goats.

  “I want to take you home with me,” she cooed in baby talk, snuggling the kid with white and brown markings. The little guy stuck out his tiny tongue and bleated. Esther giggled and hugged him harder. “No, I want you,” she said, moving to the kid whose coat was black as coal. She kissed his face and fell backward when the kid started nuzzling under her neck, following his natural instinct to butt heads. “Glory be!” As Esther rolled over to stand, she squealed anew as the smallest of the kids actually jumped onto the flat of Esther’s back, as if climbing onto a stump.

  By now, her heavy outer prayer kapp had come untied and the pins holding her hair were loosening. Still giggling in bliss, and while somehow holding all three goats on her lap, she looked up at Lucas, strands of blond hair falling over her eyes. “This one needs your attention.”

  “Okay,” he said, walking over, then squatting down beside her. Esther giggled as the black goat stood on his hind legs, balancing his front hoofs on the front of Lucas’s shoulders. When he began licking Lucas’s face, his first instinct was to turn away and stand up. But because of the gleeful hysterics coming from Esther, he didn’t have the heart.

  “Whoa,” she said as another kid jumped up to lick her face.

  “You okay?” he asked, automatically reaching out to take her arm, making sure she was steady. The touch was brief, and because of the goat trying to lick up his nose, she probably didn’t notice his face flush hot as his hand clutching hers lingered longer than necessary, an additional squeeze on purpose this time.

  “I don’t think I’ll be the same after this,” she said. “My life is complete!”

  Same here.

  Lucas couldn’t help chuckling. While gazing at Esther’s smiling face, sitting so near to each other that he could’ve reached out and stroked her smooth, pink cheek, he couldn’t imagine seeing anyone as happy as her ever again. Strange how glee could make someone look more attractive. Or maybe he was simply more attracted to Esther in that moment because of her happiness.

  Either way, though, it was futile to feel any sort of attraction. After giving the kid a semi-awkward hug, Lucas stood up and took a few steps back.

  “Esther, sweetie,” Vivian said as she slid onto the floor, belly down. “You can come over any time. Ya hear me—whenever you want.”

  “Really?” Esther said, a bit of hair caught in the corner of her mouth.

  “I’m knitting them Christmas sweaters—don’t you say a word,” she snapped when Eric groaned. “I can give you the pattern if you want, and you can make some of your own.”

  “I’d love that! Tiny goat-size Christmas sweaters. Have you ever heard of anything so adorable?” Once again, she looked up at Lucas, grinning ear to ear like a carefree child.

  For a moment, he thought back to that first time they’d seen each other at the clinic. There’d been flashes of the girl he used to know, but until now, he hadn’t seen her in full bloom.

  That day, she asked me about Jacob, he thought while watching Esther hold up the front legs of the black goat, making him walk on two hooves like a toddler. And I promised myself I would talk to her about it. That’s what we’re supposed to be doing right now.

  Instead, he’d thrown the ultimate distraction at her—three of them.

  He genuinely did love watching her play with the kids, but all he was really doing was putting off a promise he’d made to himself, because when he finally got around to telling her the truth, he knew how badly it would hurt her.

  He did not want to betray his brother’s memory, but how much longer could he keep the secret?

  The other night, he’d found the passage in the book of James that he used to love as a kid. He’d read it over and over until it was nearly memorized again. After that, he’d stayed up late, thumbing through the thin onion-paper pages, pausing to read the verses marked in yellow—those had been the ones from his mother.

  Ever since then, he hadn’t stopped thinking about that old Bible; how it had felt so good in his hands, like a lost friend he’d found. Even the smell brought back fond memories of being on a road to a completely different life.

  What would his life have been like if he’d stayed on the first path? Would he be married and raising Amish babies? Back then, he’d courted a few girls from church, given them rides home in his buggy after the singings on Sunday nights, but he’d never met anyone special.

  His gaze drifted to Esther. For the past hour, she and Vivian had been chasing the goats around the large living room and open kitchen. Up and down the carpeted stairs. Her eyes were glowing bright and her cheeks were a fresh pink. She looked…

  As quickly as it had come, again, Lucas wiped the ridiculous thought from his brain, refocusing on his conversation with Eric. The two men had retreated to the sofas in the corner when the goat races began.

  “Have you been keeping up with your physical therapy?” he asked his buddy.

  Eric rolled his left shoulder up and back a few times. “Whenever I remember.”

  “Still stiff?”

  “Only when it rains.” Eric smiled.

  Leaning fo
rward, Lucas clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. “How have you been treating the pain?”

  Eric dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment, then glanced up. “Ibuprofen and Tylenol, that’s it.”

  As subtly as he could, Lucas visually examined his friend, looking for any of the telltale signs from when he’d first treated Eric six months ago. No shakes, excellent color, seemed calm and in control. Focused.

  Lucas exhaled in relief and sat back. “That’s great, man. Glad to hear it.”

  “Thanks to you,” Eric replied. “I don’t know how I would’ve gotten out from under—Ouch!” A blue rubber ball hit him squarely between the eyes. “Viv!”

  “Sorry, hon,” Vivian said, crawling over to retrieve the ball. “That was meant for Teresa.”

  After rubbing his eyes, he moaned in mock exasperation. “She named the goat after a nun.”

  “The most famous nun,” Vivian cut in, tossing the ball to Esther, who quickly lobbed it up to the first landing, causing a minor stampede of goats climbing over one another up the stairs.

  “Are they pygmies?” Lucas asked Eric.

  “You have to ask?”

  Lucas chuckled. “They’re smaller than a cat.”

  “Surprisingly cleaner, though. Actually, they’re not that bad. Makes my Vivy happy, and there’s nothing more important than that.”

  Lucas couldn’t help noticing the intensely loving look on his buddy’s face as he glanced across the room at his wife. For the first time in his life, Lucas regretted being single.

  “Well, I hate to say it,” he added a few minutes later, “but we should probably get going.”

  Esther froze like a statue, then pushed out her bottom lip. “Oh, no.”

  “So soon?” Vivian echoed, sounding just as disappointed.

  “It’s starting to get dark.” He gestured at the window. Esther rose onto her knees to look outside, then sank back to the floor just as the black goat leaped into her lap. She wrapped her arms about him, burrowing her face into the side of his neck.

  Lucas really wished he could take a photo. But instead, he’d work hard at keeping this picture solid in his brain for as long as possible.

  Which should not be difficult.

  “They love you so much,” Vivian said. “I wish you could take them home with you, but, since that would literally kill me dead, I guess you’ll just have to come back.”

  Esther laughed, then rose to her feet. “I guess I will, then,” she said, smoothing down her dress. Vivian looped her arm through Esther’s as they walked to the door, talking in low whispers with the occasional laugh.

  “Can I get that sweater pattern?” Esther asked. “I already know what color scheme I’ll use for little Milo here.” She scratched the brown and white kid behind his pointy ears.

  “Of course,” Vivian said. “Gimme your email address. Oh, wait.” She bit her lip and glanced away, blinking. “Um…”

  “Email it to me,” Lucas jumped in, then turned to Esther. “I’ll print it out for you.”

  “Danke,” she said, a slight wobble to her smile.

  He didn’t want to put an uncomfortable damper on the afternoon, so he quickly added, “Maybe you can make one for me, too.” He grinned. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s knit me a sweater.”

  “Har-har,” Esther said. “A sweater for you would take too much yarn and way too much time. I still have to make my sister’s darn—” Suddenly, the bright smile on her face froze, and she sealed her lips together. “Well, anyway, it was lovely to meet you—all of you.” She gave Vivian a hug, waved goodbye to the goats, then walked out the door.

  Following suit, Lucas shook hands with Eric and gave Vivian’s shoulders a squeeze. “Thanks for everything,” he said, trailing behind Esther, who was already leading the white mule toward the gate. “I’m sure we’ll be back soon.”

  “I hope so,” Vivian said, standing on the porch watching Esther, eyebrows pulled together. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Lucas nodded. “She’s fine, thanks again. We had a great time!” He quickly jogged to the fence where Esther had the mule by the reins, heading toward the buggy. “Let me help.”

  “I’ve got it,” she said, sounding a bit frustrated, and then he heard her sigh. “Thank you,” she added, handing him the reins. Together, they bridled the leather ropes around the mule and attached the yokes. The animal gave no fuss, as if she’d done this a million times.

  “Bye!” Lucas called once they were both in the buggy. He waved over his head to his friends just when Esther clicked her tongue, prompting the mule to move forward.

  “What’s the hurry?” he asked when they were a few yards down the road.

  “It’s getting dark. Like you said.”

  “You’re telling me you’ve never taken a buggy ride at night?” It was meant to be a joke, but Esther only stared at him, then glanced away.

  Way to go, man. Lucas gave himself a mental thwack to the skull. Of course she’s been out at night. With my own brother.

  A few moments of silence passed between them, but Lucas was determined to not end the evening on a down.

  “I think we should sneak back in the middle of the night and steal Bubba.” He gave her a nudge. “Maybe they won’t notice, eh?”

  She didn’t make a sound at first; then Esther laughed inside her throat. “It’s Bubbles,” she said, “not Bubba. Of all names…”

  “She calls the goat Bubbles?” He scratched his chin. “And I thought Bubba was strange.”

  Esther switched on the buggy’s headlights, illuminating the gravel road before them. “Bubbles is a perfect name for him.”

  “It’s a boy?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “It just so happened that when he bleats, little bubbles float off his tongue and he tries to catch them, and then… What are you laughing at?”

  “You.” Lucas sat back. “I’ve honestly never seen anyone so excited about goats.”

  Finally, that smile was back. Just seeing it made calmness settle his body.

  “That was a blessed day,” she said, lowering the reins to rest on her lap, causing the mule to slow its trot.

  “I had fun watching you.”

  She pulled at the ties of her bonnet, maybe out of habit, then exhaled. “I feel so blissed out right now.” Her voice was light and dreamy.

  “Where did you hear that term?”

  “Read it in a book.”

  “You read books about being blissed out?”

  “I read about a lot of things,” she said. The moonlight was bright, so Lucas clearly caught the twinkle in her eyes. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  “Anytime,” he said, meaning it.

  For a few miles, they talked nothing but baby goats. Well, she did most of the talking, and Lucas wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Eric’s a nice man,” she said, just as they neared the outskirts of Honey Brook. “You two met at your clinic?”

  “He came in with shoulder pain but…” He paused, considering the ethics of sharing the case. Since Eric practically preached it from the mountain tops, Lucas was pretty sure his buddy wouldn’t mind Esther’s knowing.

  “Actually, he’d hurt his shoulder the year before. He was after a fix.”

  “You mean drugs?” Lines ran across her forehead.

  “Besides the hospital in Hershey, we’re the only place in fifty miles that has oxycodone.”

  “I’ve heard of that.” The creases on her forehead deepened. “It’s addictive. People can die from it.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it’s very dangerous. And it’s never meant to be prescribed for more than a few months at the very most. Unfortunately, though, some doctors misuse their credentials, which is bad for everyone.”

  “Eric was addicted?”

  He nodded aga
in, recalling that day with perfect clarity. “Once he knew he was not going to get one single pill out of me, he was willing to talk about rehab and physical therapy. It was pretty bad at first, but he had Vivian and his extended family to help.”

  “And now he’s clear?”

  Lucas couldn’t help chuckling. “I think you mean clean.”

  “Oh.” She smiled, the moonlight reflecting in her eyes. “Yes, clean.”

  “Sober as a judge,” he replied, then noticed her frown. “Sorry, that’s a saying. Yeah, Eric’s totally clean, getting healthier and stronger by the day. Modern medicine isn’t something to be afraid of,” he couldn’t help adding, making sure she knew she shouldn’t rely solely on people like Eliza Fisher, or whoever the community’s “healer” was now.

  “Perhaps not,” Esther said. “Moderation in all things.”

  “Very true.”

  It was quiet for a moment, then Esther began chewing on a thumbnail. “Aren’t you so grateful we don’t have that problem? You and I.”

  “Problem?”

  “Jah.” She pressed her lips together. “We’re plain, clean-living folk. We live off the land and work hard, take care of our own. Folks are more likely to crave fresh, homemade chicken stock soup than drugs. Our people have lived like this for a hundred years. Aren’t you truly grateful?”

  For once, Lucas did not feel the desire to correct the collective pronoun. It touched something deep in his heart that Esther claimed him as one of “our people.” He wanted to thank her for that but couldn’t muster the words. A moment later, however, he did feel the urge to amend her comment.

  Despite what I’ve been feeling lately, I’m not Amish anymore. I’m still so different from her and from her family—from my family.

  “You, um, might need to get out now.”

  Lucas blinked and focused his eyes. The buggy was stopped a few buildings down from the clinic. Without his noticing, they’d passed the gas station, firehouse, and probably his parents’ property line. He felt a slight tightening in his chest when he remembered watching his father from his truck the other day. What would have happened if he’d opened the car door and walked down that hill?