Buch lesen: «Loving Isaac»

Chapter One

The air was rich with the scent of roses and honeysuckle as Ellen Mast walked from the house to the barn. She entered the old wooden structure to get a bucket of chicken feed, then exited to release the birds into the yard.

“Here you go! Come and get it!” She smiled as she watched the hens and chicks scurrying toward the food. The lone rooster strutted out of the enclosure last, his chest puffing up when he saw the hens.

“Red,” Ellen called to him as she tossed down a handful. “Over here. Come get it!” The rooster bent and ate, his red-crested head dipping toward the feed. “That’s it. You always have to make an appearance last, ja?” She chuckled as she threw more grain, loving how the hens followed the trail wherever it landed.

“You’d better get down, Will, or you’re gonna fall!” she heard her brother Elam exclaim.

“Nay, I won’t!”

Ellen frowned as she skirted the barn toward the sound of her younger brothers’ voices. She found them near the hog pen. Will was walking barefoot along the top wooden rail of the surrounding fence while Elam watched with dismay from several feet away. A number of pigs and hogs wallowed in the mud, while others snorted and stuck their noses into the wire fencing between the rails. She approached slowly. “Will!” she called softly so as not to frighten him. “You need to get off there.”

Her brother flashed a guilty look. He teetered on the rail but managed to maintain his balance.

“Now,” she said sharply when he made no effort to climb down.

Will shot her a worried glance. “El, I’m trying.” He wobbled, lost his balance and fell into the mud pit. The hogs grunted and squealed as her brother scrambled to his feet.

Ellen dropped her bucket and ran. According to their father, their largest sow weighed close to five hundred pounds, while the rest weighed from twenty to two hundred. Fear pumped through her as she raced to unlatch the gate. “See if you can make your way, Will. Hurry!”

Will slogged through the mud, moving as fast as he could. The hogs and pigs grunted and squealed, the big one malevolently eyeing the intruder.

Ellen kept an eye on the animals as she held open the gate. After Will was out of danger, she shut and latched it, then scowled at him.

“You know better than to climb onto that fence or to do anything near the hogs except toss scraps to them.” She stood with her hands on her hips, noting the mud covering him from head to toe. She wrinkled her nose at the stench. “Mam’s not going to be happy. You stink.” Fortunately, Will hadn’t been wearing his hat and shoes or he’d have been in worse trouble with their mother.

“Ellen!” Mam called. Her mother waved her over to where she stood on the front porch of the farmhouse.

“Coming, Mam!” She hurried to put away her feed bucket, then quickly headed toward the house. Her younger brothers trailed behind—Will a sight covered in hog mud, with Elam walking some distance away, no doubt offended by the foul odor emanating from his brother.

As she drew closer, Ellen smiled at her mother. “Ja, Mam?”

“I need you to run an errand. The quilting bee is next week at Katie’s. I’d like you to take our squares to her.” Mam firmed her grip on the stack of colorful fabric squares as she leaned against the porch railing. “I promised to get them to her yesterday but couldn’t get away—” Her mother stopped suddenly and looked past Ellen, her eyes widening. She inhaled sharply. “William Joseph Mast, what on earth have you been doing?”

“Walking the hog fence,” Elam offered helpfully.

His mother frowned. “And you, Elam? What were you doing while Will was on the fence? Waiting for your turn?”

“Nay, Mam. I told him to get down but he wouldn’t listen.” Elam blinked up at her without worry. “And then he couldn’t get down.”

Her mother clicked her tongue with dismay as she turned back to Will. “Go to the outside pump and wait there, young man! You’ll not be stepping into the house until you’ve washed and changed clothes.” Her gaze didn’t soften as she turned to her other son. “Elam, run upstairs and get clean garments for your bruder.” Her lips firmed. “I’ll get soap and towels.”

“Mam?” Ellen asked softly. “Do you still want me to go to Katie’s?”

“Ja.” Her mother glanced at the fabric squares in patterns they’d stitched by hand and nodded. “Let me put them in a bag first.”

Ellen left shortly afterward to the sound of Will’s loud protests as Mam scrubbed the stinky mud from his hair and skin at the backyard water pump.

The day was clear and sunny, and the traffic on the main road was light as Ellen steered Blackie, the mare pulling her family’s gray buggy, toward the Samuel Lapp farm.

Many of their women friends and neighbors would be attending the quilting bee at Katie Lapp’s next week. Katie would stitch together the colorful squares that everyone had made at home. She would pin the length of stitched squares to a length of cotton with a layer of batting in between. Then she would stretch the unfinished quilt over a wooden rack from which the community women would work together, stitching carefully through all three of the layers.

Ellen enjoyed going to quilting bees. She had been taught as a young girl to make neat, even stitches and was praised often for them. After their last quilt gathering, Mam had confided to her on the way home that her work was much better than that of many of the seasoned quilters, who were often too busy nattering about people’s doings in the community to pay much attention to their stitches. Her mother had told her once that after everyone left, Katie would tear out, then redo the worst of the stitches, especially if the quilt was meant to be given as a wedding present or sold at a community fund-raiser.

“Won’t Alta know that Katie took out her stitches?” she’d asked her mother.

Mam had smiled. “Nay, Alta never remembers which area she quilted. She often takes credit for the beautiful work that Katie or you did, Ellen.”

The memory of her mam’s praise warmed her as Ellen drove along the paved road, enjoying the peace and beauty of the countryside.

The silence was broken when she heard the rev of an engine as a car came up too quickly from behind. A toot of a horn accompanied several young male shouts as the driver of the vehicle passed the buggy too closely without trying to slow down. Her horse balked and kicked up its pace and the buggy veered to the right. Ellen grabbed hard on the reins as the buggy swerved and bumped along the grass on the edge of the roadway.

“Easy, Blackie,” she commanded, trying to steer the animal in another direction. She pulled hard on the leathers. The horse straightened, but not before the buggy’s right wheels rolled into a dip along the edge of someone’s property where the vehicle drew to a stop. The jerking motion caused Ellen to slide in her seat and hit the passenger door before smacking her head against the inside wall. She gasped as pain radiated from her forehead to her cheek. She raised a hand to touch the sore area as she sat, breathing hard, shaken by the accident.

“Hey, Amish girl!” a young male voice taunted. “Stop hogging the road!”

Ellen felt indignant but kept her mouth shut. She’d been driving with the awareness that if a car needed to pass her, it could. She’d stayed toward the right and left plenty of room.

She saw with mounting concern that the car had pulled over to the side of the road ahead and stopped. Four teenage English boys hung out the open windows, mocking her driving skills and the way she was dressed.

“Too afraid to wear something nice, huh?” one called.

“Why don’t you let us see your pretty blond hair?”

They didn’t ask, nor did they care, if she was all right. They apparently didn’t worry that their actions might have caused her to be seriously hurt.

Her face throbbed and she was afraid to move. Her buggy was angled to the right, and if she shifted in the wrong way, then it might tip onto its side, causing damage to the vehicle and injuring her further.

The driver stepped out of his car. “Dunkard girl! Watch where you’re going! Do I have to show you how to drive that thing?”

Ellen was suddenly afraid. What would she do if the boys came within reach of her? How could she protect herself if they surrounded her? Her heart pounded hard. She reached up to touch her face. Her forehead and cheek hurt. Her fingers burned from tugging hard on the leathers and her shoulder ached. She couldn’t get out of the vehicle.

Her fear vanished and she became angry. She sent up a silent prayer for God to help her get over her anger quickly and to keep her safe from the English teenagers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a male voice called out to the Englishers from behind her.

That voice! Ellen recognized it immediately. He appeared next to her vehicle, confirming who it was. She frowned. Out of everyone within her church district, why did she have to be rescued by Isaac Lapp?

* * *

His heart thundered in his chest as Isaac watched the buggy bounce across uneven ground before coming to a halt in a ditch along the side of the road. The vehicle tilted at an angle and, alarmed, he raced toward the driver’s side to see if he could help. He peered through the opening of the window. When he recognized Ellen Mast sitting on the far side of the front seat, he inhaled sharply. She held a hand to her forehead, and he spoke softly so as not to scare her. “Ellen? How bad are you hurt?”

She blinked pain-filled blue eyes at him. “I’m oll recht.”

His lips firmed; he didn’t believe her. He glanced ahead toward the car and stared at the driver as another boy climbed out the front passenger side. “Ellen, hold on tight while I pull your buggy back onto the road,” he said gently as, ignoring them, he turned back.

“What are you doing here, Isaac?” a boy snarled.

Silently praying for control over his anger, Isaac faced the Englishers he’d once regarded as friends until he’d realized how mean the boys were. The group of friends was always asking for trouble. He moved toward the front of Ellen’s horse and glared at the two boys. Brad Smith had caused enough pain and heartache to last him a lifetime. Isaac wasn’t about to let the Englisher or any of his friends hurt anyone else in his Amish community, especially Ellen, a vulnerable young girl.

“Go home, Brad,” he called out. “You’ve done enough damage for one day.”

A third youth stepped out from the car’s backseat. He stared at Isaac across the distance. “I wonder what Nancy’s going to say when she hears you’ve been hanging around that Aay-mish girl!”

Refusing to rise to their taunts, Isaac grabbed the mare’s bridle and pulled the animal toward the road. The horse moved slowly with Isaac’s steady pressure on the reins. Within seconds, he’d maneuvered the mare back onto the road. The buggy bucked and jerked as the right wheels rolled up the incline onto pavement. He felt Ellen’s eyes on him as he calmed the animal with soft words, then returned to the driver’s side of the girl’s vehicle.

“Isaac!” the third boy snarled.

Isaac stiffened, then faced them. “Roy, go home—all of you! You could have caused her serious injury. If you don’t want to get arrested, then you’d better go and leave us alone.” Brad Smith and his friends were bullies who liked to pick on anyone who couldn’t fight back. Fortunately, Brad didn’t intimidate him. I won’t allow him to bully Ellen.

“You know them?” Ellen murmured as the boys piled back into the car and left.

“Ja.” He stared unhappily down the road in the direction they’d left before he turned, dismissing them.

“Who is he?” Ellen asked.

“Brad Smith. Nancy’s bruder.”

* * *

Nancy Smith. The name filled Ellen with dread. The girl who ruined my friendship with Isaac. Isaac had met the English girl during his rumspringa and liked her so much that he’d brought her home to meet his family. He’d taken her to a community gathering and a church service. If that wasn’t disturbing enough, he’d brought her to a Sunday-evening community youth singing. Having the English girl in their midst had felt awkward for her. She and Isaac had been good friends until Nancy had learned of his friendship with Ellen and proceeded to monopolize his time. Isaac had been so enamored of her that he’d allowed it. He’d forgotten about Ellen. But Nancy hadn’t. She had made it clear to Ellen that Isaac was hers and he no longer would have time for her. It had been a terrible loss for Ellen, as she had fallen in love with Isaac.

Thinking to do the right thing to protect her friend, Ellen had warned Isaac that the English girl was not a nice person. But, too blinded by his infatuation with Nancy, he’d refused to believe Ellen and had become angry with her. Ellen had felt betrayed by Isaac’s reaction and his lack of trust. Ellen had loved him; she wouldn’t have purposely set out to hurt him. If Nancy had been the good person she’d pretended to be, if she’d been kind and genuine, someone who could have made Isaac happy, Ellen would have kept her mouth shut. She’d thought she owed it to him to tell him the truth, but the truth had backfired on her. Not only did Isaac not believe her, he’d cut off all ties of their friendship.

I don’t want to think about it, Ellen thought. The incident had happened over two years ago, and she mustn’t dwell on it. As far as she knew, Nancy was no longer in Isaac’s life. She had gone, but she left a friendship in tatters.

Ellen was fine and she’d moved on. Hadn’t she been enjoying the company of Nathaniel Peachy, their deacon’s son? Her friendship with Nate was an easy one. With him, she didn’t have to constantly hide her feelings. They were friends and nothing more.

Besides, she had a new plan for her life. One for which her parents hadn’t given their approval, but it was something she’d begun to think of as God’s calling for her. She wanted to work with special-needs Amish children, those born with genetic disorders. Her friends Rebekka and Caleb Yoder had a daughter who suffered from Crigler-Najjar syndrome, a genetic disease caused by a buildup of bilirubin—a toxic substance responsible for jaundice—in the little girl’s blood. Fortunately, little Alice’s condition was type 2. The child had to remain naked under a special blue LED light for ten to twelve hours a day. The treatment could be especially brutal on cold winter or hot summer days.

After visiting the Yoder home, witnessing the child’s treatment, Ellen had felt something emotional shift inside her. Unlike little Alice, she’d been blessed with good health. She felt the powerful urge to help families like the Yoders with children like Alice.

The buggy suddenly jerked as it moved. Startled, she held on to the seat. She grimaced at the pain caused by the vehicle’s sudden shift in movement. Soon the jerking stopped and Ellen sighed with relief as she felt the buggy wheels rolling on pavement.

She stuck her head out the window. Isaac had pulled her vehicle out of the ditch and back on the road. Fortunately, no other cars had been around to hinder the progress. As Isaac had said, the English boys were gone. She could no longer see them. She just had to get through the visit to Katie Lapp’s and then she could go home.

Isaac climbed into the driver’s side of her buggy. “Your wheels are out of the ditch.” He stared at her, his brow furrowing. “Your head hurts,” he said with concern.

“I’m fine.” Ellen promptly dropped her hand and lifted her chin. The movement made her grimace with pain and she turned to stare out the passenger window. She had to be grateful for his help, but she didn’t want him here. “Why are you in my buggy?”

“I’m going to drive you wherever you’re going.”

“There’s no need. I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

He remained silent as he studied her. “Where are you headed?”

“To see your mudder.” She gestured toward the bag that had fallen to the buggy floor during the accident. “Mam asked me to bring those—the squares we made for the quilt we’re all making.”

Isaac opened the door and met her gaze. “I need to check your buggy to see if it’s safe to drive.”

Ellen watched as he slid out of the vehicle. Despite the rising bump on her forehead, an aching cheek, a dull throbbing in her right shoulder and some red, burning fingers, she knew she was well enough to drive her vehicle. She kept silent as she waited for Isaac to finish checking the carriage for damage.

“Looks gut,” he said to her through the passenger window opening within inches of where she sat. “I’d suggest that Eli take a look, but I don’t see anything physically wrong with the structure. Still, you may want to think about taking it to him later to be sure.”

“Oll recht.”

He was too close. Ellen could see the long lengths of his dark eyelashes and feel the whisper of breath across her skin. He examined her with watchful gray eyes, and she shivered in reaction to the intensity of his regard. She moved to slide across the seat. His arm on her shoulder stopped her and she had to hold a cry so he wouldn’t realize that she’d hurt it when she’d been thrown against the door.

“I have to go.” Ellen shifted uncomfortably when he didn’t move. To her shock, he reached out to lightly stroke her cheek.

“You’re going to have a bruise,” he said huskily as he withdrew his touch.

Ellen was powerless to look away from the intensity of his gray eyes, the tiny smile playing about his lips. “I need to go—”

“You’re not driving.”

She gazed at him, more than a little annoyed. “’Tis a buggy, not a car. I can handle it.”

“Not in your condition.”

She scowled. She didn’t want to ride with him, with the man who hadn’t trusted her. Why should she trust him to take her anywhere? She realized that she hadn’t forgiven him for the past but at the moment she didn’t care.

“Ellen?” Isaac frowned. “Tell me the truth. Your head hurts, ja?” His tone was gentle.

She closed her eyes at his kindness, wishing that she could turn back time to before things had soured between them. Did he honestly think that she’d forgotten what he’d done? Why was he acting like her friend again when it had been two years since he’d cut off their friendship?

“Ellen?”

“Ja, it hurts,” she admitted rudely.

“You need ice for your cheek.” His voice remained kind, making Ellen feel bad. “I was on my way home. Let me drive you.” He leaned in through the open window and the scent of him filled her nostrils. Memories of an earlier time rose up and slammed into her. Her eyes filled with tears. She turned away so he wouldn’t see them.

“Ellen...”

She blinked rapidly before she faced him again.

He reached out to touch her forehead, his finger skimming over the lump beneath the surface of her skin. His touch was light but she couldn’t help a grimace of pain. His gray eyes darkened. “I’m driving,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Isaac left her to skirt the vehicle. He seemed suddenly larger-than-life as he slid in next to her. She didn’t want him to drive her. She didn’t want him anywhere near her. The way he was making her feel made her afraid, afraid that she wasn’t over him, and despite the past and the way he’d chosen Nancy over her, she might still love him. It was better to stay angry with him. It was the only way to protect her heart.

With a click of his tongue and a flick of the leathers, Isaac urged the horse forward. Ellen sat silently in her seat beside him, and she could feel his brief side-glances toward her as he drove. She ignored them.

The remaining distance to the Samuel Lapp farm wasn’t far. Ellen saw the Lapp farmhouse ahead as Isaac steered the horse onto the long dirt lane that ended in the barnyard near the house. He drew on the reins carefully, easing the carriage to a halt as if he worried about hurting her. He parked the buggy near the house, then jumped down from the bench and ran to assist before she had a chance to climb out on her own. She shifted too quickly in her seat and gasped with the searing pain. Her head hurt and her right shoulder, which had slammed against the buggy wall, was throbbing. She was furious at how weak she felt. She didn’t want Isaac to be right. She didn’t want Isaac to be the one she had to rely on, even if just for a little while.

Isaac appeared by her side and gently clasped her arm. “Easy, now, Ellen,” he murmured. “Slowly.”

She winced as she swung her legs toward the door opening. She made a move to step down until, with a sympathetic murmur, Isaac released her arm to encircle her waist with his hands. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a young child. Ellen was conscious of his nearness, his male scent and the warmth of his touch at her midsection as he held her a brief moment before he set her down. Tears filled her eyes. Her injuries hurt but so did her aching heart.

“Danki.” She didn’t look at him as she stood there, feeling weak. Reaction set in. The horror of what those boys could have done to her caused her body to shake. She drew deep calming breaths, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Ice. You need an ice pack,” he announced as he bent to retrieve her bag from the buggy floor. He tucked it under his arm, then reached for her with the other. Fortunately, Ellen had regained control. “Come. Let’s get you into the house.” He slipped his right arm about her waist and helped her toward the house. Ellen wanted to pull away. She felt her heart thundering in her chest and grew worried that she’d lose control of her emotions again.