Their Amish Reunion. Lenora Worth
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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