Runaway Amish Bride Read online

Page 10


  “I knew it was important to you. We couldn’t just leave them in the hayloft. They would have died,” he said.

  “Ja, there have been times when I’ve felt alone and helpless, just like those babies. It was you who came to my rescue once,” she confessed.

  He reached over and squeezed her hand, so suddenly and unexpectedly that she almost gasped.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll do all we can for them. This has been a challenging day, but it’ll get better,” he said.

  She stared at him, surprised at his optimism. He had been injured and was in pain, yet he was comforting her. No accusations. No anger. Just a gentle reassurance.

  Looking away, she puzzled over his comments. She was uncertain of his motives. He didn’t want to marry her, yet he was always so supportive. A fog of emotions swirled around inside her mind. She trusted and respected this man. He was someone she considered a good friend. But if she wasn’t careful, her feelings could easily grow. And loving Jakob would only cause her more grief.

  * * *

  Although the next few hours rushed by for Jakob, it wasn’t without considerable discomfort. Abby drove him straight to the only clinic in town. When the horse had kicked him, he’d been blinded by pain so intense that he could hardly breathe. Now, a throbbing ache had settled into his calf, as though his leg were about to explode. He’d feel better if he knew for sure it wasn’t broken.

  While he received X-rays and an ice pack for his calf, Abby hurried over to the feed and grain store. He’d given her the money and explicit instructions as to the replacement chain she should buy. And when she returned, he was pleased to discover that she’d obtained exactly what he needed to make the repair. She’d also purchased two nursing kits and kitten formula. Thankfully, his leg wasn’t broken, but the muscle and surrounding tissue were badly bruised. The doctor advised him to stay off his feet for at least a week, but that wasn’t going to happen. The pain would pass, but they had to get their fields planted as soon as possible. Such was the life of a farmer.

  On their way home, they stopped and picked Reuben up from school. He stared in silence as Jakob explained all that had transpired throughout the day. As they drove home, Jakob saw the boy casting quick glances at Abby, as though he were seeing her for the first time.

  When they arrived home, Abby pulled up out front of the house. With Naomi and Dawdi Zeke’s support, Jakob limped up the cobblestone sidewalk he’d laid with his own hands years earlier. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Abby drive the wagon to the barn. Reuben stayed with her, not needing to be asked to help unhitch the horse. The boy’s shoulders were tense and he wore a heavy frown, but he didn’t say a word. Jakob was relieved to see that his son understood his duties in spite of his personal feelings for Abby. A short time later, Abby and the boy rejoined the rest of the familye inside the kitchen.

  “Reuben helped me feed and water the horses. I’ll do the milking as soon as we’ve given the babies some kitten formula,” Abby said, setting a brown paper sack on the countertop.

  “I’ll help with the milking,” Dawdi Zeke said.

  “Danke.” Sitting in a chair at the table, Jakob had propped his injured leg on another chair to elevate it. Naomi had prepared a fresh cold compress for him. He felt slightly unmanned to turn his evening chores over to Abby, his son and his elderly grandfather, but he was beyond grateful for their willing attitudes.

  “I don’t know what we would have done without you today,” Naomi said to Abby.

  “It’s the least I can do. You’ve been so kind to me.”

  “I’ll help with the milking, too.” Reuben spoke in a quiet voice.

  Jakob noticed the tenderness in his son’s eyes as he held each of the kittens.

  “I named the white baby Daffy because she has a yellow spot on her head that matches Mamm’s daffodils. Abby suggested it,” Ruby said. “Dawdi thinks she’s a girl. You get to name the other kitten. Dawdi thinks he’s a boy.”

  Reuben picked up the striped baby, his eyes filled with tender awe. “He’s so small. Look at his tiny whiskers. And his claws are so small and sharp. He looks like a little tiger.”

  “Tiger,” Dawdi Zeke repeated. “That’s a perfect name for a barn cat. No doubt he’ll be a good mouser.”

  Reuben grinned from ear to ear, obviously pleased by the name he’d chosen.

  Jakob felt a bit woozy from the pain pill the doctor had given him. Naomi kept urging him to go to the dawdy haus and lie down, but he delayed a little longer. Today could have ended in tragedy, and he had a lot to be grateful for. It felt so good to be in the safety of his own home, surrounded by his familye. All was well. And yet, something had drastically changed between him and Abby. He wasn’t certain what it was and he didn’t understand it at all, but he sensed that their relationship had deepened somehow. Surely he was imagining things.

  “May I feed Tiger?” Reuben asked Abby in a cautious tone.

  She turned from the stove, where she had just heated and filled one of the small bottles from the nursing kit with kitten formula. For just a moment, her eyes widened in surprise, and Jakob realized this was the first time Reuben had addressed her politely.

  “Of course you may.” She dribbled several drops of milk on her wrist, then nodded at Reuben. “The milk is ready.”

  “Why did you do that?” the boy asked, indicating her wrist.

  “To make sure the milk isn’t too hot for the baby’s mouth,” she said.

  Jakob watched as she showed his son how to hold Tiger in the crook of his arm. When she touched him, Reuben tensed but didn’t push her away. He jerked when the baby latched on to the bottle a bit ferociously, and they all laughed.

  “I can see these kittens have quickly regained their strength. Unless something unforeseen happens, I think they’re going to be all right,” Naomi said.

  “Ja, thanks to Abby,” Jakob said, unable to deny a warm glow of happiness inside his heart.

  “It’s a good thing she heard the babies crying and went looking for them in the barn, or we wouldn’t have found them in time,” Dawdi Zeke said.

  Reuben glanced at the woman he hadn’t yet been able to accept. Abby smiled at him, her expression one of tolerance and compassion, but his face held a skeptical frown. When he gazed at the tiny kitten he held in his arms, his eyes glimmered with love. No doubt he was enamored by the babies.

  Once Tiger had eaten his fill, Abby fluffed the towel in the bottom of the wooden crate. Reuben laid Tiger beside Daffy. The two kittens curled together, sharing body heat. And without any warning, Reuben threw his arms around Naomi’s waist and hugged her, his face pressed against her side.

  “Danke for saving the kittens.” Reuben’s words were muffled against his grandmother’s apron, but they all heard him nevertheless.

  “You’re willkomm, but I’ve done very little. You should be thanking Abby,” Naomi said.

  The boy looked up at Abby, his eyes filled with doubt. He didn’t say a word, just frowned with skepticism.

  “You’re most willkomm, sweetheart,” Abby responded anyway.

  The boy moved away, brushing at his eyes. If Jakob weren’t feeling so fuzzy, he would have thought his son was crying. He was disappointed in the boy. Even a pair of orphaned kittens couldn’t convince Reuben to finally become friendly with Abby. Regardless, the kittens had been therapeutic to the grief-stricken familye. They had laughed and enjoyed feeding the babies so much. Abby had made a difference in their lives, and Jakob was grateful for her soothing influence in his home. But she still wasn’t his beloved wife. Jakob knew it, and so did Reuben. Abby wasn’t Susan, and she never would be.

  Chapter Nine

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” Abby watched dubiously as Jakob limped over to the corn planter.

  It sat exactly where they’d left it the day before. As promised, Naomi had brought the draft horses in ri
ght after Abby had driven Jakob to the clinic in town. Now, morning sunlight gleamed across the bare ground, highlighting the dark, fertile soil. The day wasn’t too hot or cold, but just right for planting.

  “It must be done,” Jakob said.

  Although he was still young, Reuben had joined them in the field. The boy hefted the red toolbox out of the wagon and carried it over to set beside his father on the frame of the planter. Naomi had wanted to help, but Jakob adamantly refused. She wasn’t a young woman anymore and the task would be too much for her. Besides, her help wasn’t necessary. Not with Abby there.

  Jakob reached to open the box but nearly toppled over in the process. He didn’t cry out as the movement jarred his leg, but Abby saw the pain written across his face. He wasn’t up to this chore either, but he was resolute. No amount of pleading had convinced him to stay in the house. And Abby had to admire his tenacity. He was a man determined to take care of his familye.

  “Tell me what you need and I’ll hand it to you,” she said, wishing she knew how to make the repair.

  “I’ll help, too, Daed,” Reuben said.

  As promised, they all worked together. Jakob stood leaning against the planter, resting his weight on his good leg. Abby placed a socket wrench in his hand, and he loosened a couple of bolts on the sprockets. It took some effort as the bolts were very tight, and Abby was grateful for his strength.

  Within minutes, they had the new chain threaded and Jakob tightened down the bolts. When he finished, he turned, stumbled and fell heavily against her.

  “Daed!” Reuben cried.

  Abby didn’t think before wrapping her arms around him, an automatic response. The man grunted, reaching for the planter to steady himself. If Abby hadn’t caught him, she knew he would have gone down.

  While Abby supported Jakob’s right side, Reuben supported his left.

  “I think you’re finished being on your feet today,” Abby said.

  “But the planting... I have to get it done,” Jakob argued, sounding out of breath.

  “We’ll get it done, but you will do no more than sit in the wagon and supervise. Reuben and I will do the planting. You’re in no position to argue, so don’t fight us. Right, Reuben?” She looked pointedly at the boy, seeking his support.

  The boy gave a decisive nod of his head. “Right. It’s no good to fight us, Daed. We only have your well-being in mind.”

  The boy sounded so grown up. Abby looked away, hiding a satisfied smile. Thinking it would draw them closer, she’d purposefully tried to get Reuben on her side. Her ploy had worked, and the boy grinned at her as they helped Jakob into the wagon. She’d brought a heavy quilt along to elevate and support his leg.

  Now that he was off his feet, the man breathed with relief and took the leads into his hands. He drove Abby back to the barn, where she hitched up the Belgians with Reuben’s help. The boy was small, but he knew what to do and was a hard worker. They soon had the draft horses back in the field and hooked up to the corn planter.

  “You’ll need this.” Jakob held out a level to her.

  Abby reached up and took the instrument, knowing what it was for. She placed it on the main tool bar of the planter, noticing the bubble was off-kilter. Again, Reuben helped as she made a few adjustments. They pushed, grunted and adjusted the air pressure until the bubble inside the level was even.

  “The disc openers were working perfectly yesterday, but you better check them again,” Jakob called.

  Abby nodded and did as asked. The disc openers were set at an angle so that they would open a furrow for the corn seeds to drop into. The angle was about two inches, and she figured that was perfect.

  She glanced at Jakob. “They’re good.”

  “Check the gauge wheels, too,” he said.

  She did, just barely able to turn them. “The down force is good. I think we’re ready to begin.”

  “Just one more thing. The closing wheels,” Reuben said.

  Running to the back of the planter, he inspected the wheels. His bare feet sank into the soft soil as he ensured that each set of wheels was angled properly so that they would close the furrows of dirt over the seeds.

  Since he was still quite young, Abby joined him. Seeing that all was in order, she asked his opinion, hoping to build his self-confidence. “What do you think? Are they good?”

  Reuben nodded, looking very serious and mature for his age. “All is well. We are ready.”

  “Very gut, Reuben. You’re so clever to remember to check the closing wheels,” Abby praised him.

  Reuben beamed as he joined her on the driving platform. With Jakob sitting safely in the shade at the side of the field, Abby took hold of the lead lines. She immediately felt the horses’ tremendous strength pulling on the lines. Looking forward, she gazed at four chestnut rumps and flaxen tails, which were attached to a total of eight thousand pounds of horsepower. She’d driven draft animals before, but each horse had a different personality. She didn’t know these Belgians at all, except that Billy was skittish enough to badly injure a fully grown man. And here she was, a mere woman trying to command all of this strength with nothing more than the tone of her voice and a strong tug on the lines.

  “Ach, there’s no time like the present,” she murmured to herself.

  Gathering her courage, she slapped the leads against the horses’ backs.

  “Schritt!” she called, wishing her voice wouldn’t tremble so much.

  The horses stepped forward, and a lance of joy speared her heart. Reuben gripped the support bar that extended across the platform. He gazed ahead, seeming eager for this adventure they had undertaken. But Abby wasn’t. She knew how much they were depending on this harvest. She was desperate not to disappoint Jakob, nor let the familye down.

  “Haw!” she called.

  Lifting her head higher, she tugged on the leads. She almost laughed aloud when the Belgians turned left, just as she’d directed them. She did her best to line up the planter with Jakob’s last finished row. Then she lowered the long marker bar. The armature extended out from the planter and traced the next row. She kept glancing at it, to ensure she drove the team straight and created long, even furrows.

  Within an hour, she learned that Sally was inclined to jackrabbit starts, but Scottie was a calming influence next to her. Boaz stood on the far right side. He was fast, but he wasn’t coming around into the turns as well as Abby would have liked. She slowed the team down a bit to give him time to catch up to the horses on the inside. And Billy might be skittish, but he was the strength of the team. He stabilized the planter, his strong muscles bunching as he pulled nice and even.

  The work took all of her concentration, but she was still highly conscious of Jakob watching them from the wagon. She’d expected him to nod off and nap, but he sat straight and tall, his injured leg resting on the bunched-up blanket, his glimmering eyes on the planter. When she turned the team to head the other way, she could almost feel his gaze boring a hole in her back. A memory of Simon watching her with a critical eye rushed over her, along with the fear of his disapproval and a possible beating. She didn’t believe Jakob would hurt her, but she felt nervous anyway. She wanted to do a good job for him. She told herself it was because she didn’t want him to make her leave, but deep inside she knew it was something more. In spite of his rejection of marriage, she still wanted to ease his mind and make him happy.

  * * *

  By late afternoon, Jakob was worried. At midday, Abby had insisted she was doing fine. Reuben had eaten his bologna-and-cheese sandwich with them in the field, but then returned to the house with Dawdi Zeke. The boy’s shoulders had slumped with weariness, but Jakob was pleased with his efforts. He was learning to become a good, hardworking man.

  Now, it was late afternoon and Jakob was anxious about Abby. He looked to where she sat on the bench of the planter, still driving the team. Her spine was s
tiff, her head held high, but her arms lagged. Pulling against those big horses all day was enough to make anyone’s muscles ache. Throughout the day, he’d tried to help her refill the hoppers but was embarrassed when his leg gave out on him and he almost dropped a bag of seed on the ground. She’d saved him just in time, taking the heavy weight of the bag against her own slender body. Though she hadn’t uttered one word of complaint, she must have been absolutely tuckered out. In spite of her determination, she didn’t have the strength of a man. He hated to push her so hard, especially knowing how Simon had abused her. Jakob certainly couldn’t fault her work. Not when they almost had all of the corn planted.

  Correction. Abby almost had the corn planted. He’d done nothing but sit in the shade and watch her work. In spite of the long rest, his leg throbbed unbearably. And no wonder. A horrific black-and-red bruise surrounded his entire calf and extended down his ankle to his foot and up to his knee. No doubt the blood pooling was the cause of the swelling and pain. In spite of the cold compress Mamm had sent for him at noon, it would take time for the wound to heal.

  If he and Abby could just make it through the evening milking, they could both rest. Mamm would undoubtedly have a hearty meal prepared for them, if they weren’t too sick and tired to eat it. He longed to retire but wouldn’t leave Abby’s side as long as she stood out in the baking sun, doing his work.

  “Hallo!”

  Jakob turned. Dawdi Zeke was driving their smallest wagon toward the field with a stranger sitting beside him. Both men wore straw hats and black suspenders, so Jakob knew their guest was Amish.

  Shading his eyes, he tried to discern who the stranger was. Then, he groaned.

  Martin Hostetler.

  No doubt the man was here to see Abby. Jakob should be glad that one of their faithful members was interested in her. His thoughts toward Martin were uncharitable. He shouldn’t mind having the other man here, but he did.

  Pursing his lips, Jakob waved to get Abby’s attention. After a moment, she saw him and called to the team. When she noticed Zeke and Martin, she paused for a moment, then kept on going.