Their Convenient Amish Marriage. Cheryl Williford
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СКАЧАТЬ in the larder, if you have a taste for them.”

      “Nee. This is fine.”

      “My doctor said no more greasy foods for me, but Verity lets me have baked chips occasionally.”

      “She treats you well, then?” Leviticus’s gaze focused on his father’s pale skin, noticing the way his heart beat fast in a vein on his neck.

      “Ya, Verity treats me special gut.” Albert took a small bite of his sandwich and began to chew.

      In truth, time hadn’t stood still for either of them. His father’s eyes were on him, too, judging what he saw and probably finding fault with his clothes, the scar running down his cheek that screamed violence. But if his father was disappointed, he said nothing as he ate several bites and then pushed his half-eaten sandwich away. “My appetite isn’t what it used to be.”

      “Nee. Mine, either.” Leviticus glanced around the sunny kitchen. Some things remained as he remembered them. The same pot rack held his mamm’s old cookware. The pot holders she’d made from spare quilting blocks hung from the same golden hooks. A familiar set of plastic canisters sat against the back wall on the counter. His mamm’s indecipherable handwriting labeled them as flour, sugar and coffee. Memories of her love and care caused him pain and added regret. She had been a woman of tiny stature, barely the size of a twelve-year-old child. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in spirit and determination.

      He could still picture her scurrying around this room, preparing meals fit for a king. Her spunk kept him out of trouble with the elders during rumspringa. She’d always expected the best from everyone and gave back in kind. But he’d stolen, lied and drank too much during his time of running around, bringing her nothing but disgrace in the end. Shame ate at him, burned his throat. Had the stress been the reason she’d died so suddenly, and not hard work?

      Leviticus stored away his memories. His father didn’t need to see him cry on his first day home. “You want a glass of water?”

      “Ya, sure. Danki. I need to take my pill.” Albert opened one of the brown medicine bottles on the table and laughed. “I never thought I’d find myself pushing pills in my mouth morning and night, but Verity says she’ll tell the doctor if I don’t take them on time.”

      He turned toward his soh, his expression incredulous. “You know, the doctor put me in an Englischer nursing home for three whole days after my stroke. But Otto sent Verity along. She pulled me out and brought me home, just like a gut dochder would do. I had to laugh at all her bluster and spirit, her bright copper hair flying wild about her kapp like she was Gott’s emissary come to rescue me.”

      Albert guffawed. “Certain-sure she saved me from the grip of the enemy.” His head bobbed. “Ya, for certain-sure.” He set the bottle of pills he’d been holding on the table. “She’s been my right hand since that day, and a fine housekeeper, too.” He laughed again. “That girl has spunk. Just like your mamm. You should have married her while you had the chance.”

      Leviticus knew he should have. He should have done a lot of things better than he had. Some had paid too high a price for his having his own way. He desperately needed Gott to show him mercy, remove the horrific dreams of war, the remains of PTSD still plaguing his mind from time to time. Would redemption remove his every sin as his bishop had preached when he was young? For now, he would live with the guilt burning his insides until God removed the pain. His father’s forgiveness would go a long way toward securing a measure of peace for his troubled mind.

      Footsteps crossing the small wooden porch out back told him Solomon would soon be walking in through the back door. No doubt hungry and expecting Clara to be fixing his meal.

      Leviticus prepared himself for their confrontation. Solomon had every right to be livid with him. A young man of twenty, he’d been left to deal with the grove, with a father set in his ways and growing feeble with age and illness. Had there been too little money to hire fruit pickers to help run the land, buy what was needed the last ten years?

      The back door handle turned and Solomon stepped in. His brother had grown taller, put on a little weight and seemed fit under his traditional Amish garb. Brown hair, so much like their mamm’s, ran riot over his head. Windblown clusters of curls poked out from under the dirty straw work hat that he wore. Dried mud caked his boots up to his dark trouser cuffs.

      Solomon stopped in his tracks, taking a long, hard look at Leviticus. His blue eyes narrowed as he realized who stood by his father’s side.

      “What’s he doing here? Did you send for him?”

      Albert accepted the glass of tap water from his younger son’s hand and swallowed his pill. “Danki.” His eyes cut to his oldest son. “Now, how could I have sent for Leviticus? I didn’t know where he was any more than you did. Gott directed your bruder’s steps home.”

      Leviticus watched the exchange. Albert seemed calm and steady, but Solomon’s face reddened, ready to explode with fury.

      Leviticus stepped forward.

      Solomon turned toward him, ignored Leviticus’s outstretched hand. His finger jabbed toward the back door. “Get out! You’re not welkom here.”

      Albert swayed to his feet. His face flushed a ruby red. “I’m still alive and owner of this grove, Solomon Hilty. Leviticus is my youngest bu. He can stay as long as he chooses, and you have nee say in if he comes or goes.”

      Solomon banged his fist down hard on the wooden kitchen table, rattling their coffee mugs. “Where was your precious soh when the orange trees dropped fruit from fungus? Remember how we worked twelve-hour days to save that crop?”

      Solomon’s loudly spoken words echoed through the house, a verbal slap across Leviticus’s face. He’d earned that slap...and more.

      “Where was Leviticus when you almost died in the grove?” He pointed to his bruder. “Did he come and sit by your hospital bed for days? Nee. But I was there, Daed.” Solomon’s finger poked his own chest. His tone dropped, tears glistening in his eyes. “I was there the whole time.”

      “You were there and that was as it should be. But your bruder is home now. You should be happy Leviticus has come to make things right with Gott. Hasn’t that always been our prayer?”

      Looks were exchanged between brothers. Leviticus’s frayed nerves shouted at him to run, leave all the drama behind and just go. Solomon didn’t understand why he’d left, but now was not the time for explaining. He’d done enough damage to this family.

      Solomon has a right to want me gone. If the roles were reversed, I’d be saying the same to him.

      Two steps brought Solomon to his father’s side. “Is that what he told you? That he’s come home to give Gott and the Amish way of life a chance? Do his long hair, his Englisch clothes look like a mann ready to turn over a new leaf, Daed? Do they?”

      “This will end now!” Verity stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and spitting fire. “Your daed has no need of this foolishness. I will not have him made upset.”

      Solomon flashed a look at Leviticus that spoke volumes. He slammed his work hat back on his head. “This is not over, little bruder. Not СКАЧАТЬ