Their Convenient Amish Marriage. Cheryl Williford

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СКАЧАТЬ their inquisitive expressions and quiet murmurs as they moved down a long hall that led to the great room.

      “Verity, wait.” Leviticus tugged at her arm, his fingers barely touching her skin.

      Verity looked down at his tanned fingers pressed against the paleness of her arm and sent him a cautionary look. Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again.

      He released his hold, his questioning expression carving lines in his forehead.

      She forced herself to relax. It was just Leviticus come home, after all. He meant nothing to her anymore. “You’ll find Albert next to the rose garden.”

      He nodded, and then glanced back at the collection of women clustered in the living room. “Have the women gathered to pray? Is someone sick?”

      She shook her head, shoving her trembling hands into her apron pockets to keep her reaction to him hidden. “Nee, the church choir is having a singing frolic in the park this weekend. There’s been so much destruction in Pinecraft since the hurricane. Some of the women have planned a dinner to raise much-needed funds. Clara was kind enough to offer the choir use of the farmhouse so we could practice.”

      Verity could still feel the gaze of several choir members on her, watching and wondering. Should she mention to Leviticus that his father had had a stroke less than a month ago and was still in a weakened condition? No. It was best she stayed out of the Hilty family business. She was the housekeeper, after all. Not family. She’d leave that conversation for Albert and his son.

      “Who’s Clara?” Leviticus’s eyebrows knitted together.

      She spoke over the sounds of the choir warming up again. “Clara is Solomon’s fraa. Your brother was courting her when you left, but that was a long time ago. No wonder you’ve forgotten.” Like you forgot me, she added silently.

      The women began to sing in sweet harmony. The words to “Amazing Grace” filled the old house, reminding her that Gott had all things under control. Even this awkward situation with the man who had once been her beloved. She tried to sound casual, like someone who didn’t care that the man standing next to her had torn her young heart into a million pieces. “Solomon and Clara are living here now, but it’s temporary. Hurricane winds did some interior damage to their haus down the grove a few days ago and Albert took them in till it’s repaired.”

      “And you? I guess you’re married by now and have your own haus and kinner.” His warm blue-eyed gaze pinned her down like a bug to cardboard.

      She went cold inside. She spoke matter-of-factly but was anything but inwardly calm. “Ya, I was married to Mark Schrock, but I’m a widow now, with a young dochder named Faith. She’s with my younger schweschders while I’m busy with the ladies.” Her gaze dropped to the child sleeping in his arms.

      “I’m sorry about the loss of your husband.” His words sounded sincere enough, but in the past, his words had seemed sincere, too. Especially after his mother’s funeral, when she was seventeen and he had tried explaining why he was leaving Pinecraft, setting her back on the shelf as if they’d meant nothing to each other. That day he’d rambled on without making a lick of sense, especially when he’d suggested his mother had been overworked by the church and his father until the day she dropped dead from exhaustion. Hadn’t he realized women like his mother thrived on being needed and never complained?

      The kind in his arms stirred and stretched, drawing his attention. Flushed with sleep, the little girl made grunting sounds and then settled down. His blue-eyed gaze roamed the child’s face as he tucked a pink blanket in around her chubby legs. A long, slim finger ran lovingly down the side of her rosy cheek.

      She caught a glimpse of the baby’s pursed pink lips. A trickle of milk seeped from the side of her sweet mouth. At least Leviticus had become responsible enough to keep the child well fed. “I see time’s brought changes to all our lives. Is your fraa with you?”

      He looked her over, his expression calm. “Nee. I never married.”

      He seemed comfortable enough with his statement. Like having a child out of wedlock was an everyday occurrence for Englisch men like the one he’d become. “She’s a cute boppli. What’s her name?”

      “Naomi, after my mudder.” He grinned, his beguiling dimple flashing again, tempting her to reach out and touch it as she had a hundred times in the distant past.

      He laughed. “I tend to call her Trouble when it’s three in the morning and she’s screaming blue murder with a wet diaper.” He remained warm and friendly, even though Verity knew she had to be frowning his way. His playful personality had always been so irritating, yet so appealing to her.

      “Babies are known for waking at the worst times.” Drawn in by his smile, she relaxed a tiny bit. She thought of Faith’s first year and all the sleep she’d lost rocking her in the chair Mark had fashioned for her before the accident took his life. Sadness replaced her half smile with a frown. “Komm, you must be eager to see your daed after all these years.”

      “You don’t have to come along with me. It hasn’t been that long. I know where the garden is.” His tone was gentle, but firm. He stepped past her and out the door without a backward glance.

      “It’s been longer than you think, Leviticus Hilty,” she whispered, dealing with what felt like a dismissal. She watched his long stride eat up the distance between the porch and the wood gate surrounding the rose beds. To his retreating back, she muttered softly, “Much longer.”

      Clara was suddenly by her side, crowding her out of the doorway with her big belly. Her friend’s brow arched as she asked, “Who’s that?”

      Leviticus strolled alongside the sheds beside the house, over to where his mother’s rose garden bloomed in perfumed profusion. “That’s your bruder-in-law, Leviticus Hilty.”

      “How can that be?” Clara’s honey-colored eyes widened in surprise. Always nosy, she flicked her kapp’s ribbon behind her shoulder and inched closer to the screen door for a better look. “He’s not anything like the Leviticus I remember. That man’s an Englischer.”

      “Ya, he is, but he’s Leviticus Hilty all the same.” Verity strived to steady herself. Her nerves were jingling like the Christmas bells on Faith’s shoes. Leviticus had returned. So what if he’s returned? He no longer means anything to me.

      Verity watched as Leviticus turned toward the backfield of blown-over citrus trees and moved on. His shoulders rounded, no doubt in reaction to the damage stretched out before him.

      The grove had been slammed by high winds during the recent late-season hurricane. Squalls of heavy rain had flooded field after field until they were all underwater. The house had been spared, for the most part, but the damage to the grove would be considerable, if not devastating, financially. Verity loved the fields of miniature orange trees, this old house, its family. How will the grove survive?

      “Solomon’s not going to like Leviticus’s returning home an Englischer. Even now, when an extra hand is needed and appreciated.” Clara patted her stomach, as if rubbing it would rid her of the concerns that might upset her boppli. “And Albert. Do you think he’ll easily forgive his soh for leaving the faith and never joining the church?”

      “He certain-sure СКАЧАТЬ