Their Convenient Amish Marriage. Cheryl Williford

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СКАЧАТЬ a moment, she could hear him in the kitchen, clanging pans and opening cupboards. Verity pondered his predicament. Leviticus seemed practiced in things pertaining to his dochder’s care. She had never met a man who could tend to a little one’s needs. Not that Mark hadn’t shown an interest in everything she had done for Faith. But to have expected him to go for a warm bottle or change her? She chuckled aloud at the thought. Amish men didn’t do such things unless their fraa was ill and there was no one else to help, which was seldom the case in Pinecraft.

      Before she could slip on and snap together Naomi’s one-piece sleeper, Leviticus was by her side, shaking the warm baby bottle with gusto. “The nurse I hired said to shake the formula really well.”

      “Ya, but I don’t think she meant you to make whipped cream of the milk.” She held out her hand and took the bottle, avoiding his fingers, even though a secret part of her longed to touch him. She tested the warmth of the milk on her wrist before settling herself and the child in the small rocker in the corner.

      Leviticus stood looking at them, his expression undecipherable in the shadowy room.

      “You can go back to bed now. I can manage.”

      He reached back, blindly searching for the doorknob, and stepped out with a nod. Silence filled the room. The muted sounds of Naomi smacking down her milk brought calm to Verity’s soul. She began to hum one of the songs she would sing to Faith. Movement caused Verity to look back toward the door. Leviticus had returned, partially hidden in the gloom. “Go. I’ll take good care of her. There’s no need for you to worry.” Would he ever go away?

      “I know you will, but it’s hard for me to let go.”

      “You don’t have to let go completely. Just trust me to see to her needs. To love her like she deserves to be loved.”

      “Why would you want to do this for me after the pain I’ve caused you?”

      Verity rested her head back against the rocker, her eyes closed. The weight of the baby was a comfort to her empty arms. The soothing motion of the rocker brought needed peace. “My caring for Naomi has nothing to do with what went on between us. Naomi needs me. I’ll see to her needs. Any woman would.”

      “Not every woman. Her own mamm wouldn’t.” He stepped out of the shadows, into the light. “How can a mudder feel nothing for her own flesh and blood?” Leviticus’s expression was bleak.

      Anger gripped her. She fought down the compassion she felt growing for him. She couldn’t fathom any woman being so heartless. “I have no answers for you. You’ll have to ask Naomi’s mudder the next time you see her.”

      The lamp’s muted glow turned his hair to spun gold. “Do you mind me asking what happened to your husband?” He leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for her reply.

      She took in a quiet breath, prepared to tell the story once again. Each time she had to speak of her husband’s death, her loss grew. “Mark was a hard worker, a gut man. New to Pinecraft, he took a job with a local arborist. He was still in training when he climbed up a tree and fell to his death.” She sighed. “No one was at fault. He somehow managed to put on his harness incorrectly. It didn’t hold when a rotten branch broke and fell on top of him.”

      “I’m sorry for your loss.”

      Verity nodded. She couldn’t speak for a moment. Leviticus’s words seemed sincere enough, but his regret didn’t mean a thing to her. All those years ago, he’d sounded sincere when he’d told her he loved her, too. But he hadn’t. Not really. He’d left her standing next to his mamm’s grave, with everyone looking on as he tenderly kissed her lips and walked away without so much as a backward glance.

      Tears gathered in her eyes. “Morning comes early around here, Leviticus. Get to bed.” Verity spoke carefully, keeping her tears from falling. When he finally shut the door behind him, she let her tears flow. She cried for Naomi’s loss, for her loss of Mark and for her soh, who’d never known his mamm’s love. But she refused to cry for Leviticus. He’d earned his pain, even though something, that small voice, told her she was wrong.

       Chapter Three

      Golden rays of sunlight rose above the groves. The gray sky overhead had turned into a cloudless blue day.

      Shredded palm fronds and broken tree branches littered the big fenced-in yard. Leviticus turned back toward the house. Roof tiles and tar paper added to the debris near the rambling dwelling he’d grown up in. There was a lot of work to be done and not many community hands available to help, thanks to the widespread damage around town.

      He stepped inside the kitchen door, nodded at Verity, who was busy working at the end of the counter, and then smiled at his father, who was eating at the breakfast table.

      “Gut mariye, Leviticus. Did you sleep well?”

      “Mariye, Daed.” He knew he was breaking one of his mamm’s cardinal rules when he slathered his hands with dish soap and rinsed them in the sink meant only for washing dishes, subconsciously hoping she’d appear and scold him one more time for misbehaving. “I slept well enough, I guess.” He dismissed the night terrors he’d endured that had woken him with muffled screams. Verity and his father didn’t need to know about the remnants of PTSD that still haunted him night and day.

      Verity gave him a disapproving glance for abusing the sink but went about her business, cutting fresh fruit into chunks. She didn’t say a word of greeting. There were dark circles under her eyes. Had Naomi kept her up crying? The first weeks he’d cared for Naomi, he’d had his own share of sleepless nights. Google called the problem a mix-up of days and nights. He’d called exhaustion a miserable way to live.

      Perhaps Naomi missed her mother. He thought of Julie, wondered how she was feeling now that the boppli was gone from her life forever. She’d had six months to bond with her own flesh and blood, even though the nanny seemed in charge of Naomi the day he’d been around. He’d never seen Julie pick up Naomi once or feed her, and she’d said no goodbyes to her when they’d left.

      Leviticus grabbed a cereal bowl out of the cupboard and took a spoon from the freshly washed dishes on the drain board and then pulled out a chair and sat close to his hard-of-hearing father. He grimaced as he poured cereal from the plastic container and noticed moon-shaped, colored rainbows coated in sugar.

      Verity stepped beside him carrying a cutting board of fruit. “You sure you don’t want oatmeal?”

      He shook his head. “Nee. This will do fine.”

      She put some of the fruit on his father’s hot cereal. Leviticus’s head lifted in surprise when Albert dug into the tan gooey mush with all the gusto of a small boy. Some things had seriously changed around the grove. When his mother was alive, his father had his oatmeal with brown sugar and lots of butter, but that was how she’d made it for her husband and his father never complained or asked for anything different.

      Leviticus ate a crunchy bite of the sickeningly sweet cereal and held back a groan of disgust. A sugar rush was just what he didn’t need, but he wasn’t going to be a bother to Verity. She had enough to do; besides, she was rushing around like she was in a hurry. “Where’s everyone?” He ate another bite of cereal, СКАЧАТЬ