His Amish Choice Page 7

  Jeremiah nodded. “Gut. I’m glad Eli hasn’t forgotten how to farm.”

  They talked for several minutes more, then the girls returned with red-and-green lollipops. They stuck out their tongues, to show how they’d changed colors and they all laughed.

  Remembering that Eli had to meet the bishop, Lizzie kept their visit short. They kissed their father goodbye, then walked out into the hall. Eli stood leaning against the wall, holding his black felt hat, his ankles crossed as he stared at the floor. When Lizzie and the girls appeared, he stood up fast, his brows drawn together in a thoughtful frown. Lizzie couldn’t help wondering how long he’d been standing there and if he’d overheard her conversation with her father.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked, his voice subdued as he put his hat on his head.

  “Ja, danke.” She headed toward the outer door.

  The two girls skipped along happily beside her as they licked their lollipops.

  As always, Eli helped them into the buggy before walking around to the other side. Once they were all settled, he released the brake and called to the horse. As they lurched forward, they each seemed lost in their own thoughts. For the first time since the accident, the girls seemed comfortable riding in a buggy. They finally dozed off, a compliment to Eli and his safe driving. Lizzie felt drowsy too, but couldn’t let down her guard enough to sleep. She wasn’t really worried they might get hit by another car, but rather she couldn’t stop thinking about what her father had said.

  Be wary of Eli. It’s easier to leave a second and third time.

  Would Eli stay or go? Lizzie would never know for certain. Which was exactly why she intended to keep her distance from him.

  Chapter Five

  As planned, Lizzie and Eli baled hay the following morning, just as soon as the sun had evaporated the glistening dew from the earth. Standing on the baler, she tugged hard on the leather leads to turn the six-hitch team to the right.

  “Gee!” she called.

  The wagon lurched as the horses stepped forward. The baler trembled. Lizzie widened her stance on the platform to keep from tumbling over the thin railing onto the hard-packed earth.

  She was thankful for Tubs and Chubs. As the two strongest horses, Lizzie had hitched them in the middle, providing an anchor and stability to the other four Percherons. The powerful animals leaned into their collars and plodded along without complaint. The soft jingle of their harness mingled with the dull thuds of their heavy hooves as they pulled the baler and hay wagon behind them.

  The rattling hum of the gas-powered engine filled Lizzie’s ears. The smell of freshly mowed hay was mingled with dust and chaff. She inhaled a slow breath and promptly sneezed. As she reached with one hand for the tissue she kept tucked inside the waist of her black apron, her hip bumped against the guardrail. Not a lot of protection, but it helped steady her on the baler.

  She looked over her shoulder. With his legs planted firmly beneath him, Eli swayed easily on the flatbed hay wagon. Taking advantage of the brief lull while they turned the corner, he’d popped up the spout of a blue jug and drank deeply. Water droplets ran down his chin and corded throat before he wiped them away with the back of his hand. As he closed the spout, he looked up and met her gaze. She spun around, embarrassed to be caught staring. But honestly, she just couldn’t help herself.

  Straightening the horses out to pick up the cut alfalfa, she looked back at the baler. It started up again, churning and spitting out tidy square bales tied together with two strands of heavy twine. She stole a quick glance at Eli again, noticing how he pulled each bundle with ease, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing as he tossed the hefty bales onto the quickly expanding stack behind him.

  Down one row and up the next, the hay bales piled up and soon filled the wagon. Only a few more rows to go and the hay would be in. No more worries about storm clouds. No more fears of not having the necessary feed for their livestock when the winter snows came deep and cold. No more fretting over...

  “Ready to halt!” Eli called above the rumbling of the engine.

  “Whoa!” Caught off guard, Lizzie tugged on the leads and the solid horses came to a smooth stop. They seemed unconcerned by this brief interlude, their docked tails swishing back and forth.

  The baler and wagon jerked slightly and she looked back to make sure Eli was all right. He had no railing to keep him from falling off the wagon. If he couldn’t keep up with the baler, it was her job to slow the horses. But Eli never seemed to have any problems and she couldn’t believe how easily he had stepped back into the role of a farmer. If not for the constant ache in her heart, she could almost pretend that he’d never left at all.

  He jumped down from the wagon and sauntered over to turn off the baler. “Ach, we’ve done fine work today. Another couple of hours and we’ll be finished with the baling.”

  He flashed a dazzling smile that made his dark eyes sparkle and showed a dimple in his left cheek. Lizzie blinked and turned away, ignoring the swirl of butterflies in her stomach. She was not going to renew her feelings for this man. No, she was not.

  She breathed steadily, trying to settle her nerves and enjoying the quiet break for a few moments. By nightfall, they’d be finished with the baling and she could relax. Almost. She wished she had a quiet heart, but worries about her father and all the work still needing to be done weighed heavily on her mind...not to mention her riotous feelings about Eli. In spite of her upbringing and learning to maintain a constant trust in the Lord, her mind felt burdened by doubts. Of course, she would never confess any of that out loud. She didn’t want to worry her father or the bishop...or anyone else in the Gmay. She must have faith. All would be well. The Lord would care for them. Wouldn’t He?

  Eli hopped up onto the platform, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. She tried not to notice the warmth of his tall frame against her side, but found herself scrunching her arms so she didn’t have to feel his sleeve brushing against her.

  “May I?” he asked, reaching in front of her to take the lead lines.

  She didn’t argue as she handed them over. He flashed another smile and her heart gave an odd little thump.

  “Schritt!” he called, slapping the leathers lightly against the horses’ rumps.

  The Percherons stepped forward and the baler gave a sudden wobble. Gripping the guardrail, Lizzie held on with whitened knuckles until they were moving at an even pace. For several moments, she stared at Eli’s hands. His fingers were long, graceful and steady, the kind a surgeon would have in a medical office.

  Mentally shaking herself, she adjusted the kerchief tied around her head. Because of their grimy work, she’d left her delicate prayer kapp in her room earlier that morning.

  Within minutes, Eli pulled the horses up in front of the barn. He’d already opened the double doors in the top of the loft and the gas-powered hay elevator sat waiting for them. Marty and Annie came running from the house, but knew to stay out of the way. They watched from a safe distance, sitting on the rail fence in the shade by one of the corrals.

  Looping the lead lines over the guardrail, Eli hopped off the baler platform. Lizzie went to join him, but was returning Annie’s wave and not paying attention. She lost her balance and felt herself fall. Reaching out, her hands clasped at something, anything to break her fall.

  “Oof!” She gasped as she dropped right into Eli’s outstretched arms.

  She felt the solid wall of his chest against her cheek and heard his steady heartbeat in her ear. Her legs were twisted and she struggled for a moment to regain her footing.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, the sound of his deep voice echoing through her entire body.

  “I... Ja, I’m fine.”

  She looked up and found his face no more than a breath away. Her gaze locked with his and she felt held there by a force she didn’t understand. Nothing else existed but them.


  Gradually, the farm sounds invaded her dazed brain. The mooing of a cow, the cluck of chickens scratching in the yard. She became aware of the horses and her sisters watching with avid interest. She was also highly conscious of Eli’s solid arms clasped around her in a most improper display.

  “Are you okay?” Marty called.

  “Ja, I just lost my balance, that’s all.”

  Lizzie pulled away from Eli and readjusted her apron and kerchief, trying to gather her composure. Trying to pretend she wasn’t shocked to discover that she was still highly attracted to this man she could neither forgive nor forget.

  Eli stepped back, but she caught the glint of hesitation in his eyes. His startled expression told her that he’d felt the physical attraction between them too. So. He wasn’t as unaffected as he portrayed. Which gave her even more reason to keep her distance from him.

  Turning aside, he tightened his leather gloves on his finger, then moved over to the hay elevator and started it up. The rattling sound jangled Lizzie’s nerves even more. She longed to run to the house and seek sanctuary in her room until her body stopped quaking. But she couldn’t leave. There was still work to be done.

  That’s when she realized why she was in such a foul mood. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to remain detached from Eli. She told herself it was simply because of what they’d once meant to each other, but somehow she knew it was something more. Something she was having difficulty fighting. And she couldn’t help thinking it would be a very long autumn working beside Eli until her father recuperated.

  * * *

  The following morning, Eli scooted the three-legged stool closer to the black-and-white Holstein and sat down. Hunching forward, he applied disinfectant, then set a sterilized silver bucket beneath the cow. With firm squeezes of his fingers, he shot darts of smooth white milk into the bucket. He soon set up an easy rhythm, the metallic whooshing sounds of milk hitting the pail easing the tension in his mind.

  Lizzie sat adjacent to him, milking another cow. Marty and Annie were nearby, waiting to assist with pouring the full buckets into the tall canisters. Eli kind of enjoyed the little girls’ incessant chatter and spurts of giggles. In the coziness of the barn, it was almost a tranquil moment, except that Lizzie had barely said two words to him.

  “Meowww.”

  The lazy call of a gray barn cat drew his attention. Without changing his pace, Eli glanced over as the feline slinked its way into the barn. It moved languidly before sidling up against Eli’s legs and rubbing its furry head against him in a cajoling manner. When Eli didn’t acknowledge the cat, the feline lifted a paw and clawed several times at the hem of his broadfall pants.

  Eli chuckled. “Look here, maed. Milo is trying to sweet-talk me into giving him some milk.”

  “Shoo, Milo! This milk isn’t for you.” Marty rushed at the cat, clapping her hands loudly.

  Milo darted over to Lizzie, who had paused long enough to look up. She spared the cat barely a glance before returning to her milking. Milo stayed close by, watching them intently with green eyes.

  Luna, a yellow tabby cat, came quickly into the barn with her tail high in the air. She nudged Milo, who greeted her by swatting at her face. Obviously, he didn’t want competition in his quest for milk.

  Undeterred, Luna sat close by, licking her chops and giving a disgruntled yowl. Both cats eyed the milk greedily. Eli smiled, but continued with his work. It soon became difficult to ignore the impatient squalls and growling coming from deep in the back of Milo’s throat.

  “Meow!”

  “What a mournful cry. So pathetic. You’d think they were starving.” Lizzie spoke without looking up.

  “Ach, go away, Luna. You too, Milo. Scat, both of you!” Little Annie copied her sister by clapping her hands, but the felines barely spared the child a glance.

  Neither cat was prepared to budge. When both animals started crying repeatedly, Eli finally took pity on them. With perfect aim, he shot a stream of milk, striking Milo directly in the face. The cat sat up on his hind legs and lapped milk off his whiskers. Eli was soon shooting jets of milk into both cats’ mouths, one after the other.

  Annie squealed with glee. “Look what Eli’s doing.”

  Marty laughed openly at the sight. “How do you do that?”

  Eli paused in feeding the two cats and noticed that Lizzie had stopped her milking and was watching him quietly.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice over the years. Doesn’t your vadder spray milk at the cats?” Eli asked.

  “Ne, he doesn’t,” Annie said.

  “He’d probably say it was a waste of good milk,” Marty said.

  Eli shrugged as he shot another gush at the felines, catching them perfectly in the mouth. “The cats have to eat too.”

  “But they eat mice. That’s their job and why they live out here in the barn,” Marty said, placing one hand on her hip in a perfect mimic of Lizzie.

  Eli laughed out loud. Both children glanced at Lizzie, as if seeking her opinion on the subject.

  Lizzie blinked for a couple of moments, then showed a half smile. “It won’t do any harm. Milo and Luna won’t take enough milk to keep us from making our cheese and cream. And Eli is right. They have to eat too.”

  Eli was relieved. Though he knew she didn’t approve of him, he didn’t want to antagonize Lizzie.

  He offered a bit more milk. The cats held their front paws aloft and greedily lapped up the treasure. The liquid dripped down the fronts of both animals and dampened their fur, but they didn’t seem to mind. One shot caught Milo on the side of his face. He shook his head and made a funny expression before using his paws to wipe and lick off the milk.

  Lizzie chuckled out loud. “I think Milo may have had too much already.”

  Her bright laughter caught Eli off guard. It did something to him inside...a reminder of what they’d once meant to each other and how much he’d loved her. But that was when they were little more than children. He hesitated, feeling mesmerized by her quiet beauty. Loose wisps of hair had come undone from beneath her prayer kapp and framed her delicate face. Her blue eyes danced with amusement, her soft lips curved in a smile.

  This was the Lizzie he remembered from his childhood. This was the Lizzie he’d fallen in love with all those years earlier. And for just a moment, it was as if he’d never left. She was his Lizzie-bee, who laughed easily and had a warm sense of humor that exposed her intelligence and kindness. He couldn’t help thinking of Shannon, who rarely laughed, but had a dry wit that could leave him in stitches. With her short chestnut curls and heavy features, she was so different from Lizzie. And yet, he’d loved them both at separate times in his life. But his feelings for Shannon had been more mature. More lasting. His love for Lizzie had been only a childish infatuation. Hadn’t it?

  “Do it again, Eli. Do it again,” Annie encouraged.

  Awakened from his mindless wandering, Eli took careful aim and shot more milk at the cats. When Luna started licking Milo’s furry coat, they all laughed. Eli’s attention was drawn to Lizzie’s beaming face again. Her eyes were bright, her expression vibrant as she watched the barn cats’ funny antics. She glanced up and her gaze locked with his. Then, she frowned, as if she’d remembered all the sadness that still lay between them.

  “Ach, I think that’s enough. We need to get back to work.” Lizzie turned on her stool and returned to her milking.

  Eli did likewise, noticing that the two cats had started licking themselves to clean every drop of milk off their fur.

  Marty and Annie didn’t complain as he handed off his filled milk pail to them. He waited patiently as the girls carried it over to the tall container, lifted it and poured the contents in. While they were occupied with that chore, he glanced over at Lizzie and found her watching him. She jerked, looking embarrassed. Her bucket was also full and she hesitated, not seeming to know what
to do with herself until the girls returned for her milk.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh again,” Eli spoke low.

  She swallowed and looked down at her shoes. “I laugh all the time.”

  No, she didn’t. Not anymore. Not the deep, hearty laughter that exposed the joy she felt inside. In fact, the absence of her laughter was very telling. Very rarely did her eyes sparkle, or her lips curve up with amusement. Eli knew she wasn’t happy. Not anymore. And he wasn’t certain if it was because of him or because of the added responsibilities resting on her slender shoulders.

  Maybe both.

  “You used to laugh all the time,” he said. “Remember when we went fishing together? We had a lot of fun then.”

  Her frown deepened. “That was a long time ago.”

  “It’s just been four short years.”

  “It’s been four long years,” she said.

  She looked away, her expression wistful and sad. He didn’t need to ask why. It had been only four years, and yet it had been a lifetime. But more than that, his reminder had crushed the tenuous humor between them. Even the two cats frolicking in the hay couldn’t get a smile out of Lizzie now.

  Marty returned with his empty bucket and he ducked his head, resuming his milking. Out of his peripheral vision, he watched as the little girls emptied Lizzie’s bucket and she moved on to the next cow. He longed to chat about inconsequential things as he worked, but didn’t know what to say anymore. Lizzie seemed to feel the same way. She was overly quiet, as if she wished she were with anyone but him. They used to be so comfortable with each other. So natural and relaxed. Their discussions and laughter were spontaneous. And he felt suddenly very sorry that he and Lizzie had lost the camaraderie between them.

  While the girls remained behind to feed the pigs and collect eggs, Lizzie finished her chores, then hurried to the house. Watching her go, Eli felt an emptiness inside his chest. It reminded him of how alone he really was and he missed Shannon more than ever before. His ruined relationship with Lizzie seemed to make his solitude even worse.