Читать книгу Their Amish Reunion - Lenora Worth, Rachel Hauck - Страница 12

Chapter One

He thought of Ava Jane.

The memory of her sweet smile had held him together for so long, Jeremiah wondered if he’d ever be able to face her again. The real her. The one he’d left behind. Remembering her pretty smile was one thing. Coming face-to-face with her and seeing the hurt and condemnation in her eyes would be another.

Something he’d dreaded during the long bus trip across the country from California to Pennsylvania.

But he wasn’t here today to meet with the bishop about Ava Jane. He’d lost her and he’d accepted that long ago. He didn’t deserve her anymore. Twelve years was a long time. She’d made a good life with a good man. Or so he’d heard.

She had not waited for Jeremiah to come home because all indications had shown he never would come home again. At times, he’d thought that same thing. Thought he was surely going to die a world away from the one he’d left. At those times, he’d think of her rich strawberry blonde curls and her light-as-air blue eyes. And her wide, glowing smile. And he’d wish he’d never left her.

But he was here now, waiting inside the bishop’s home to speak to him. Here and needing to find some solace. He came back to help his family, whether they wanted him to or not. His younger sister, Beth, had tried to keep in touch, but her last letter had been full of fear and grief.

“Daed is dying, Jeremiah. Please come quickly.”

Bishop King walked into the sparsely decorated parlor where Jeremiah waited and stood for a moment. The man’s gaze was solemn and unreadable, but his dark eyes held a glimmer of hope.

“Young Jeremiah Weaver,” the bishop said before he took his time settling down in a high-back walnut chair across from Jeremiah. “Have you kumm back to your faith?”

Jeremiah held his head down and studied his hands, horrible memories of rapid gunfire and grown men moaning in pain filling his brain. Studied his hands and wished he could change them, take away the scars and calluses of war and replace them with the blisters and calluses of good, honest work.

He needed to find some peace.

That was why he’d come home to Lancaster County and his Amish roots. So he looked the bishop in the eyes and nodded.

“Ja, Bishop King, I’ve kumm home. For gut.”

Home for good. One of the hardest things he’d ever had to do in his life. Because the hardest thing he’d ever done was leave Ava Jane crying in the dark.

* * *

Ava Jane Graber grabbed her ten-year-old son, Eli, by the collar of his shirt and shook her head. “Eli, please stop picking up things, alleweil.” Right now. “You might break something.”

“Sorry, Mamm,” Eli replied, his mischievous brown eyes reminding her of her late husband, Jacob.

Jacob had drowned two years ago while trying to save a calf during a storm, but he used to love teasing her. Eli had inherited his father’s gift of mirth and his gift of getting into trouble.

Sarah Rose, soon turning seven, seemed to have Ava Jane’s sensibilities and logical nature. Her blue eyes grew as she twisted her brow. “Eli, you know Mamm doesn’t like it when we break things.” Putting her little hands on her hips, the child added, “And you break things all the time.”

Hmm. Her young daughter could also be a tad judgmental at times. Had she also inherited that from Ava Jane?

Ava Jane shook her head and gathered the few supplies she’d come into town to buy. “No, Mamm does not like it when you misbehave and accidentally break things.”

Smiling at Mr. Hartford, the general store owner, she paid for her items and said, “Denke.”

“You’re welcome, Ava Jane, and thank you for the fresh apple muffins,” the Englisch manager said with a wide grin. “Good to see you out and about today.”

“It’s a fine spring morning,” Ava Jane replied, her items and her children in tow. Mr. Hartford loved it when she brought him fresh baked goods to sell, but he also liked that she saved a couple of choices just for him. “A wonderful, beautiful day.”

“One of the Lord’s best,” Mr. Hartford said with a nod.

But when she walked out onto the sidewalk toward her waiting horse and buggy, her beautiful morning turned into something she couldn’t explain.

She looked up and into the deep blue eyes of the man walking toward them, her bag of groceries slipping right out of her grip. The paper bag tore and all her purchases crashed down, the sound of shattering glass echoing off the pavement.

“I think Mamm just broke something,” Eli pointed out, his gaze moving from her to the hard-edged man wearing a T-shirt and jeans, his dark hair curling around his face and neck.

“Who is that, Mamm?” Sarah Rose asked, her distinctive intuition shining brightly as her gaze moved from Ava Jane to the man.

Ava Jane couldn’t speak, couldn’t elaborate. But inside, she was shouting and screaming and wishing she could take her children and run away. Her heart had shattered right along with the jar of fresh honey she’d purchased.

She knew this man. Had thought about him time and again over the years.

Jeremiah Weaver.

The man who’d left her behind.

* * *

Jeremiah couldn’t stop himself. He rushed toward Ava Jane and the kinder with all the might he’d used to charge against the enemy while wearing heavy tactical gear.

“Ava Jane?” he called, fearful that she was going to pass out. Her skin, always as fresh as new peaches, turned pale, her sky blue eyes filled with shock, the pupils dilating.

He’d startled her. He had not meant to let her see him this way, here on the street in the small town of Campton Creek, where everyone talked too much about things of which they knew nothing. Wishing he’d had more time to prepare, Jeremiah couldn’t hide from her now.

“Ava Jane?” he said again when he’d made it to her side. “Are you all right?”

“Was denkscht?” she asked, anger in the phrase, her heart-shaped face dark with confusion.

What do you think?

Jeremiah saw a bench. “Kumm, sit.”

“Mamm?” the little girl said on a wail, fright clear in her eyes. “May we go home?”

Ava Jane looked from her confused daughter back to Jeremiah. “In a minute, Sarah Rose. Go with your brother to the buggy and wait for me.”

“You made a mess,” the boy pointed out, love for his mamm shining in his eyes. “I can clean it for you.”

Jeremiah could see Jacob in the boy’s eyes. Jacob, one of his best friends. Married to the woman he’d loved.

“I’ll clean it up in a bit,” Jeremiah offered, taking Ava Jane by the arm to guide her to the bench. Few people were out and about but those who were, including some Amish, had stopped to stare.

She pulled away. “I’ll get Mr. Hartford. Go now, Eli, and wait by the horses.”

The kinder did as she requested. Only when they were out of earshot did she turn back to him, her eyes blazing like a hot sky. “What are you doing here, Jeremiah?”

“I didn’t want you to see me yet,” he tried to explain.

“Too late.” She adjusted her white kapp with shaking hands. “I need to go.”

“Please don’t,” he said. “I’m not going to bother you. I...I saw you and I didn’t have time to—”

“To leave again?” she asked, her tone full of more venom than he could ever imagine coming from such a sweet soul.

“I’m not leaving,” he said. “I’m here to stay. I’ve come back to Campton Creek to help my family. But I had planned on coming to pay you and Jacob a visit, to let you know that...I understand how things are now. You’re married—”

“I’m a widow now,” she blurted, two bright spots forming on her cheeks. “And I have to get my children home.”

Kneeling, she tried to pick up her groceries but his hand on her arm stopped her. Jeremiah took the torn bag and placed the thread, spices and canned goods at the bottom, the feel of sticky honey on his fingers merging with the memory of her dainty arm. But the shock of her words made him numb with regret.

I’m a widow now.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremiah said in a whisper. “Beth never told me.”

“You couldn’t be reached.”

Ah, so Beth had tried but he’d been on a mission.

“I wish I’d known. I’m so sorry.”

Ava Jane kept her eyes downcast while she tried to gather the rest of her groceries and toss them in the torn bag.

“Here you go,” he said, the bag tightly rolled while her news echoed through his mind and left him stunned. “I’ll go inside and get something to clean the honey.”

Their eyes met while his hand brushed over hers.

A rush of deep longing shot through her eyes, jagged and fractured, and hit Jeremiah straight in his heart.

Ava Jane recoiled and stood. “Denke.”

Then she turned and hurried toward the buggy. Just before she lifted her skirts to get inside, she pivoted back to give him one last glaring appraisal. “I wonder why you came back at all.”

He watched as she got in the buggy and sat for a moment before she gave the reins to her son. Without a backward glance, Ava Jane held her head high. Then Jeremiah hurried into Hartford’s and asked for a wet mop to clean the stains from the sidewalk. He only wished he could clean away the stains inside of his heart.

And just like her, he wondered why he’d returned to Campton Creek.

* * *

Ava Jane didn’t know how she’d made it the two miles home. She’d been so shaken that she’d allowed Eli to guide the buggy. Knowing that their docile roan mare, Matilda, would get them home safely, Ava Jane watched her son handling the reins, her sight blurred by an ache that caught her at the oddest of times.

Well, seeing Jeremiah in Englisch clothes had certainly been odd. Seeing him, his blue-black eyes holding hers, so many unspoken things between them, had certainly been confusing and overwhelming. His hand brushing against hers had brought back memories of how they used to hold hands and sneak chaste kisses. She felt a headache coming on.

Why was he back?

Twelve years had passed since he’d awakened her in the middle of the night and asked her to come out onto the porch between the main house and the grossdaadi haus where her grandparents lived.

Twelve years since Jeremiah had taken his rumspringa to a whole new level while she’d barely done anything different during her own. Her heart was here in Campton Creek while his heart had longed for adventure and...war.

War. He’d become a warrior, hardened and battle scarred and unyielding. A Navy warrior. SEALs, they called themselves. In desperation, she’d gone to the library and found all kinds of articles that explained things much too clearly to her. He’d gone against the Amish way and joined the military.

What had he done and seen out there?

“I have to go, Ava Jane,” he said that night so long ago, tears in his eyes. “I can’t explain it but...something has happened. Something bad.”

“Was ist letz?” she asked, her heart pumping too fast. “What’s the matter?”

“Edward is dead.”

She knew Edward Campton, ten years older at the time than Jeremiah’s seventeen. He and Jeremiah became good friends when Mr. Weaver and Jeremiah went to the stately Campton mansion centered in the heart of Campton Creek to build some new cabinets in the kitchen. Edward, a Navy SEAL, was home on leave for a couple of months and, for some reason, he’d told Jeremiah things he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.

But then, Jeremiah always had a rough streak. He loved to wrestle and fight, to swim as fast as he could, to be the first to win in any game. And he often talked about things of the world, hunting and fishing, which the Amish did only for food. Jeremiah became fascinated with battles and war games and sailing the open seas, things their kind did not condone.

During his second year of rumspringa, the time all Amish teens and young adults had a chance to run around before they settled down and became baptized, Jeremiah became enamored of Edward. Edward’s Englisch ways and military talk swayed Jeremiah and changed him. Soon, Jeremiah began to spend more and more time with Edward, running and exercising with him, swimming in the big pool behind the Campton mansion, learning all about dangerous weapons and listening to Edward’s stories of valor. Even learning how to scuba dive, of all things.

Edward loaned him history books full of stories of valor, which Jeremiah read late at night after his chores were done. After he came by to see her and tell her he loved her which he often did back then.

Why, she’d never understand. Why, Jeremiah? Why had he felt the need to run away and join the Navy?

She heard talk in town about the Campton family. Their roots stretched back to the American Revolution and the town was named for them. They were rich and had a house full of material things. The minute Jeremiah met Edward, she’d felt him slipping away from her. All his talk about history and battles and honoring the country that protected and sheltered him.

He’d been almost eighteen and able to make his own decisions. Finally, he’d told her he wasn’t sure he wanted to be baptized. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stay Amish. Jeremiah had always been adventurous and he’d often talked about things of the world, but he changed right before her eyes. She saw the change the last time they’d talked.

“Jeremiah, what are you saying? Your place is here, with me. This is our life. The life God gave us.”

But that night she’d lost him completely. His friend who’d gone back to his duties had been on a dangerous mission to find and kill a known terrorist, he explained.

“I was at the Campton place a few hours ago, helping Mr. Campton with replacing some worn floors. They were watching a news report on television about a secretive raid that happened a few days ago. I could tell they were concerned. Then these two men in uniform showed up at the door. Mrs. Campton screamed out and we ran to her. Mr. Campton saw the two men and started to cry. It was horrible. They’d come to tell them that Edward was dead. Killed in the raid. Killed, Ava Jane.”

Once Ava Jane heard that and after Jeremiah told her he’d been there when they’d received the terrible news, she knew she’d lost Jeremiah.

His friend who’d served his country as a Navy SEAL had died, and now Jeremiah wanted to join up and fight an unspeakable enemy to avenge that death. That went against the tenets of their faith.

“No, Jeremiah, no,” she cried. “I beg you, don’t do this. We don’t get involved in these things. We don’t fight wars. Stay with me. We have plans, remember? Our own home, children. A life together. We’ve talked about it since we were thirteen.”

“I want that life,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “But I have to do this now, while I’m young. I’ll come back one day. Soon.” His hands on her face, he looked into her eyes, torment twisting his expression. “I can’t explain it, but I have to go.”

“No.” She didn’t agree with him, did not agree with how he followed Edward around, always asking questions and trying to be Englisch. He’d spent his rumspringa trying to be someone he wasn’t and now he’d become someone she didn’t know.

Blinking away tears, she came back to the present, focused on her children and tried to take a breath.

But he’s back.

He’d said he’d come home to help his family. True, his daed was ill, first from a broken hip and now with an infection that wouldn’t heal. After many weeks in a nearby hospital, Isaac had requested he be brought home. He now lay, in and out of consciousness. It was just a matter of time.

But who had summoned Jeremiah home?

Surely not his stubborn, hard daed, who’d banned Jeremiah from their home. Probably not his mamm. She’d never go against her husband’s wishes. Probably his sister, Beth.

The siblings had managed to stay close through the years. Beth often gave Ava Jane updates, even when she’d never asked for them. Sometimes, he couldn’t be located, such as when Jacob had died. His life had become so secretive and covert. Because it had become a dangerous life. Ava Jane had prayed for Jeremiah so many times. That was her duty. She prayed for everyone she knew. But she’d never prayed him home. Not once.

She wanted no part of the man.

She wanted to go back to that night and hear him say instead, “I’ll stay, Ava Jane. For you. Only you.”

Stop it, she told herself. Think of Jacob. You can have no betrayal of your husband in your thoughts.

So now while her children did their chores and ran around in the sunshine, chasing butterflies, Ava Jane sat in Jacob’s rocking chair and cried for her husband, her head pounding with both physical and mental pain. She needed his warmth right now. She needed him here with her in their safe, comfortable beloved world. Jacob would hold her close and tell her he’d protect her and take care of her. No matter what.

Her husband had tried to show her the love that Jeremiah had thrown away and, in turn, she’d tried to be a good wife to Jacob. They had truly grown to love each other. They’d been together through the loss of both of Jacob’s parents, first his mother and then, a year later, his father. Jacob never quite got over losing his parents. But then he’d died five years later.

Now, struggling on her small farm, she didn’t have Jacob to shield her from the pain of seeing Jeremiah again. Jeremiah, the same but so different.

Ava Jane tugged her shawl tightly around her as the gloaming fell across the green grass and newly budding fruit trees, the last of the sun’s rays covering the hills and valleys and rooftops like a light linen veil. She wondered how she’d ever be able to accept Jeremiah being back in Campton Creek. No matter that she was allowed to speak to him since he’d never been baptized and there was no ban on him. No matter that she might not see him every day anyway. No matter that his family needed him and he’d heeded that call. None of it mattered and she shouldn’t even fret about these things.

Just knowing he was nearby—that would be the hard thing.

Ava Jane rubbed her aching temples and sipped the tea she hoped would subdue the agony attacking her brain.

Dear Lord, give me the strength to go about my life. He has no meaning to me now. I have to forget he’s back.

She would. She’d go on the way she’d been doing. She was blessed and, while she grieved the loss of her husband, she had to consider her children. They had kept her going these past two years. She’d concentrate on them and their needs.

But, even through her fervent prayers, Ava Jane knew that trying to put Jeremiah Weaver out of her mind would be like trying not to breathe.

Impossible.