Runaway Amish Bride. Leigh Bale
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silver pail and scoop of chicken feed. Another lamp had been lit and hung on a hook beside her head. The warm glow illuminated her lavender dress, white apron and kapp, making her look small and fragile among the shadows. Her eyes widened with momentary surprise, then she smiled and brushed a hand across her long skirts in a gesture that told him she was suddenly nervous.
“Guder mariye, Jakob.”
“Good morning,” he returned.
He closed the barn door to shut out the chilly air, then walked to her. “Why are you up so early?”
She took two steps back, not quite meeting his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d make myself useful. I suspect I’m used to getting up two hours earlier in Ohio.” She glanced at him. “Why are you up so early?”
He shrugged. “The same reason. I couldn’t sleep either, although Ohio has nothing to do with it.”
She laughed, her blue eyes twinkling and her face lighting up. In the lamp glow, she was absolutely stunning and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He realized she had as many worries on her mind as he did. And for some reason, he wished he could ease her fears and bring her a bit of comfort.
“It appears we both suffer from insomnia,” she said.
“I guess so.” He couldn’t help returning her smile.
Stepping closer, he reached up to remove a piece of straw from her kapp. She jerked back and lifted both hands, as if to protect herself. In the process, she dropped the pail and scoop. Chicken feed spattered across the barn floor. Her breathing quickened, her eyes wide and wary, as if she expected him to strike her.
Jakob drew back in surprise. He held perfectly still, waiting for her to relax. Then he plucked the piece of straw and held it out to her.
“I meant you no harm.” He spoke gently, trying to soften the tense mood. But in his heart, he couldn’t help wondering at her actions.
“Danke.” She stooped over and swept up the spilled feed with her hands, funneling it into the pail.
He noticed that she never turned her back on him, but positioned herself so she could always see him. Something told him it was a protective instinct she’d learned from living with her father and brother, and he couldn’t help wondering if they had a tendency to ambush her when she wasn’t looking.
When he crouched down to help her, she drew away again, her entire body stiff. And then he knew. Simon and her father’s abuse had been worse than he first thought. This gentle, soft-spoken woman was afraid of men.
She was afraid of him.
“I’ll never hurt you, Abby. You are safe here. This I vow,” he said.
She met his gaze, her lips slightly parted. Her eyes filled with doubt, and he wasn’t sure she believed him.
She stood abruptly and gave a nervous laugh. “I had better get the chickens fed. Do you want me to turn them out into the yard, or leave them in the coop?”
“Ja, turn them out. The dog will not bother them, and Dawdi will be here to watch over the place while we go into town.”
“Unless you object, I’ll feed the pigs also,” she said.
He nodded and she hurried to the door, but paused there to look over her shoulder at him. “Are...are we taking the children with us into town?”
Her voice carried a bit of hesitancy, and he didn’t need to ask why. No doubt she was still wary of Reuben and wished to avoid the boy.
“Ja, but we’ll be dropping Reuben off at school. Ruby will spend the day with you and Mamm.”
“Gut. I want to spend more time getting to know Reuben, so that he realizes I mean him no harm. I hope we can one day be friends.”
Once again, she surprised him. She didn’t want to avoid the boy. Instead, she sought the opportunity to be near him. Not what Jakob expected at all.
She stepped outside and closed the barn door. He felt the urge to go after her. To apologize once more for frightening her. To make her laugh again. But he knew that would be a mistake. It might make her think he had changed his mind and wanted to marry her after all. That there could be something between them. And there couldn’t. Not ever.
* * *
“Reuben, get your coat. We’re going to be late,” Naomi called to the boy from the stairs. Her arms were laden with a shallow box of freshly wrapped blueberry muffins.
The boy’s bare feet thudded against the stairs as he ran down them and hurried into the kitchen. He thrust his arms into his plain black sack coat. “Where’s my lunch?”
“Here it is.” Abby turned from the counter, holding a red personal-sized lunch cooler.
He came to a screeching halt. “Did...did you make my lunch?”
She nodded and smiled, handing the cooler to him. “Ja, and I put something extra special inside. I hope you like it.”
He scowled at her but took the handle, careful to avoid touching her hand. As he studied the box, she could tell he wanted to stop right there and open the lid to view the contents, but Naomi called to him again.
“Reuben! Koom on.”
The boy turned and ran outside. Picking up a box that contained six loaves of carefully wrapped homemade bread, Abby followed. On the porch, she set the box down on a table and closed the front door securely behind her.
“I’ll see you all later,” Dawdi Zeke called from near the workshop.
“Vaarwel.” Abby waved as she picked up the box of bread and stepped down off the porch.
Jakob had already pulled the buggy wagon up in front of the house. The back of the wagon was filled with carefully packed breads, rolls, cupcakes, cookies and pies for the bakery. He hopped out of the buggy to help her put the box in the back. As he did so, his hand brushed against hers and she jerked back, the warm feel of his skin zinging up her arm.
Looking up, she noticed that Naomi had managed to climb in the back of the buggy with Reuben and Ruby. That meant Abby would have to ride in the front with Jakob.
He helped her into the buggy, then hurried around to the driver’s seat. Taking the leads in his strong hands, he released the brake and slapped the leather gently against the horse’s back.
“Schritt.”
The horse stepped forward in a steady walk. In the close quarters, Abby gazed out her open window, conscious of Jakob’s knee brushing against her skirts from time to time.
When they reached the county road leading into Riverton, Jakob directed the horse over to the far right side of the road. Several cars and a truck whizzed past, and Abby was relieved when they took a turn onto another dirt road. Within fifteen minutes, they passed wide-open fields and an apple orchard.
“The Beilers live down there.” Naomi pointed. “We buy our apples from them. You’ll meet Lizzie at the bakery. She makes the best pies in the district.”
“Not better than yours, Grossmammi,” Reuben said.
“That’s because I use her crust recipe. It’s so tender and flaky. She’s a very gut cook.” Naomi smiled.
It wouldn’t be appropriate for the woman to brag, but Abby could tell her grandson’s words had pleased her.
Abby saw the schoolhouse long before they reached it. A white frame building with a small bell tower sat amid a fenced-off yard in the middle of a hay field. Two outhouses sat in one isolated corner. A teeter-totter and baseball diamond were the only play equipment in the yard.
The horse pulled the buggy wagon down the lane, and Jakob stopped them just out front of the schoolhouse. Several boys dressed