Loving Isaac. Rebecca Kertz
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put on the teakettle.” She turned toward the stove. “You need a cup to revive you.”
As she held ice to her cheek, Ellen encountered Isaac’s gaze. She shifted the bag to her forehead. Isaac frowned, left the room and returned with another ice bag. She gave a jolt when he sat down close beside her and pressed it gently against her cheek. “Danki,” she murmured.
He leaned forward as he kept hold of the ice. “You’re willkomm.”
“Here we are.” Katie set three cups of hot steaming tea on the table. She returned to get a coffee cake from the counter. “How about a nice slice of cinnamon cake? I made it fresh this morning.”
Ellen had smelled it as soon as she’d entered the kitchen earlier. She felt her stomach rumble as if urging her to eat. Embarrassed, she nodded.
She lowered the ice pack and set it on the table. The ice was soothing to her injuries, but after a while, the cold felt too intense. Taking her cue, Isaac removed the other bag. She was aware that he watched her every moment as if he half expected her to faint or fall over...or something worse. She tried to smile reassuringly but the simple movement caused pain to radiate along the right side of her face. Without asking, Isaac quickly picked up an ice bag and held it to the painful area. Ellen welcomed the cold again, as it helped to alleviate the soreness. Disturbed by his nearness, she reached up to take control of the bag. Her fingers accidentally brushed against his; she froze as she locked gazes with him.
“I’ve got it,” she assured him. She hated that he had the power to make her feel something besides anger, that he could still make her wish for things that she no longer wanted.
Isaac leaned back in his chair without a word as his mother sliced the coffee cake, then set the pieces within reach in the middle of the table. Katie then sat across from her and Isaac. In the ensuing silence, Ellen remained overly aware of Isaac beside her as she sipped from her teacup.
“Where’s Hannah?” Isaac asked conversationally.
“At Abram’s.” Katie took a sip of tea. “She loves playing with Mae Anne.”
Their deacon, Abram Peachy, a widower, had married Charlotte King of the Amos Kings, who lived across the road from the Lapps. When she’d married Abram, Charlotte had become mother to Abram’s five children. Then a year and a half ago, Charlotte had given birth to a daughter, Mae Anne, and she had six children to mother and love. Mae Anne, a toddler, was as cute as she was bright, and her older siblings adored her. Isaac’s sister, Hannah, now eight, had been drawn to the baby immediately. The youngest Lapp sibling loved spending time with babies and children younger than her, including her own nieces and nephews.
“She’s gut with kinner. She’ll make a fine mudder one day.” Ellen dug her fork into the coffee cake and brought a piece to her mouth. She felt Isaac’s gaze on her, met his glance and quickly looked away. She felt her heart rate accelerate, her stomach flutter as if filled with butterflies.
* * *
Isaac gazed at the girl seated at his family’s kitchen table and felt his stomach tighten as he thought of the accident. When he’d learned that it was Brad and his friends in the car, he’d felt his hackles rise. These English boys were rude and nearly always up for trouble, and trouble was the last thing he needed. He’d already found it once with them, and he wasn’t looking to get involved with them again. Except he’d never have known Nancy’s true colors if not for them. He’d been happy when he’d met Nancy Smith, pleased when she’d wanted to meet his family. He’d found her fascinating, and after he’d spent some time with her, his fascination had grown. Dressed all in black, she’d worn heavy eye makeup and bright red lipstick. Her appearance stood out in a crowd, which wasn’t the Amish way, but she’d been sweet and he’d realized after talking with her for hours that they shared a lot in common. Until he’d learned that she’d pretended to like him simply because she’d been curious about the Amish way of life.
The pain of learning the truth about her still lingered. His foolishness in getting involved with her and her unkind circle of friends bothered him. He’d given his parents cause to worry, and for that he was sincerely sorry.
As Ellen and his mother chatted, Isaac studied the young woman seated next to him. He had a clear up-close view of her features. Tendrils of blond hair had escaped from under her kapp during the accident. The bruise on her cheek stood out starkly against her smooth complexion. She turned, saw him staring and raised her eyebrows questioningly. He continued to watch her, unable to look away. Her cheeks turned bright pink and she averted her gaze.
It seemed impossible that they’d known each other forever, but they had. He had to admit it had been a long time since they’d spent any time together like they used to. His fault, he knew, but he couldn’t undo the past. He’d chosen Nancy over Ellen.
Isaac experienced a strange tingle of awareness of Ellen that he’d never felt before. “How is your head?”
Ellen gingerly touched her forehead. “Not too painful.”
He frowned, because he didn’t believe her. He stood. “I’ll get more ice.”
“Nay, I’m fine.” She waved at him to sit down.
He reluctantly resumed his seat. “When you’re ready to go, I’ll take you home.”
“There’s no need—”
“Let him, Ellen,” Mam said. “You just had an accident. You shouldn’t be driving home until you’re certain there are no other aftereffects.”
“I’ll take you home,” Isaac said. “Jacob can give me a ride back.” It was an easy walk from Ellen’s house to Zook’s Blacksmithy, where his older brother Jacob worked.
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You’re not, Ellen,” he said, teasing her. “At least, not today.” He paused. “Finish your cake. You need to keep up your strength.”
She arched her eyebrows. “I don’t need to eat. I’m strong enough.”
“You don’t like my mam’s cake?” He laughed when he heard her inhale sharply, saw her expression fill with outrage.
She glared at him, but he could see that she fought a smile.
His mother had left the room. She returned within minutes with Ellen and her mother’s quilt squares, which he’d placed on top of their hall linen chest on their way through to the kitchen. Mam pulled the squares out of the bag. “These are lovely, Ellen.”
Ellen smiled. “I’ll tell Mam that you said so.”
“I see your work here. Your stitching is extraordinary.”
Isaac was intrigued. “May I see?”
His mother chose and then handed him two squares. Isaac examined them carefully and thought he knew which one was Ellen’s. “Your stitches are neat and even,” he murmured and then held up the one in his right hand. “This one is yours.”
Ellen seemed stunned. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. “I just did.” And his mother had said that Ellen’s work was extraordinary. He was unable to take his gaze off her, saw her blush. He returned the squares to his mother. “Who’s getting the quilt?”
“Martha,” Mam said. “For the baby.”
Isaac smiled. His older brother Eli and his wife, Martha, were expecting their first child. “Doesn’t Martha usually come to your quilting on Wednesdays?”
Mam smiled. “Ja, but she told me that she can’t come this Wednesday. With hard work, we’ll get her quilt done in one day.”
He smiled knowingly. “You told Eli.”
“I had to,” Mam said defensively. “I couldn’t risk that Martha would change her mind and decide to come.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll put these upstairs. Martha could stop by for