Their Convenient Amish Marriage. Cheryl Williford
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but leave the kind and such things to Verity. She’s had plenty of experience with kinner of all ages. Ain’t so?”
Verity raised her chin and nodded.
He was sure she had taken care of many children, but this one was his and another woman’s child. There’d been a time that fact would have hurt her beyond measure. From the glare she was giving him now, Leviticus could see he was no longer important to her.
“Ya, I’ll see to the boppli, if that’s all right with her daed.”
Leviticus lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “I had thought...”
Albert tugged at his beard, watching him as he shifted Naomi to his shoulder and soothed her.
“A woman knows what’s best for bopplis. I’m surprised Naomi’s mamm’s not here, seeing to her needs. Will she come later?”
Leviticus straightened out his daughter’s pink collar. “Nee. Julie’s not coming. She’s a judge advocate of some importance. Her job keeps her busy in Washington. We’re not married, Daed. When Naomi was born, Julie made it clear she wanted nothing further to do with me or our dochder.”
His daed’s eyebrows shot up. The room became silent, as if time stood still. Albert sat soundlessly digesting Leviticus’s disturbing words. “This woman, Julie. She is Englisch, ya?” He scratched at his beard, his deep-set eyes surveying Leviticus closely.
“She is.”
“That explains the lack of a wedding.” Albert took a sip of coffee. “Nee Plain woman would walk away from her kind and leave a mann to care for it. Gut thing you came home. Naomi will be well loved here on the grove.” Albert twisted in his chair, his bony hand motioning Verity over. “Komm, lunch can wait. The boppli needs a woman’s touch.”
Leviticus’s gaze locked with Verity’s as she lifted the kind from his arms. She nodded, their silent conversation missed by Albert. She would take good care of his child. Naomi whimpered and pushed away as she was taken out of her father’s arms. Without a backward glance, Verity made her way through the kitchen door, into the great room.
Albert followed his housekeeper with his eyes. “She’s had a hard few years, Leviticus. I think a husband is what she needs. Someone to carry the load of parenting with her. You’ve been away a long time. People change. Just go easy if you have a mind to court her again.”
Leviticus dropped his head. What his father said was true. He and Verity had been over for a long time. And in the condition he was in, she was off-limits to him. He’d make sure of that. She deserved someone whole. Not a man who fought night terrors and jumped every time he heard a loud noise.
He couldn’t help but think about the way Verity used to look at him, like he was something special. Today that look had been replaced with indifference, but who could blame her? She had forgiven him for breaking her heart, but not forgotten. He was sure of that. True, it was her nature to forgive. But she wore her heart on her sleeve and always had.
Yet, it was evident by her disapproving expression that she had no feelings left for him. He was just someone to be tolerated now. He was Albert’s son, but not her lost love.
Leviticus finished the sandwiches Verity had started and served one to his father before settling down with his own. His thoughts stayed on Naomi as he chewed. She was in good hands, but had Verity noticed Naomi was a squirmer? Less than a year old, she needed to be closely watched or she’d be rolling off the bed and onto the floor.
“Danki, soh.” Albert pulled the well-filled sandwich closer. “There’s chips in the larder, if you have a taste for them.”
“Nee. This is fine.”
“My doctor said no more greasy foods for me, but Verity lets me have baked chips occasionally.”
“She treats you well, then?” Leviticus’s gaze focused on his father’s pale skin, noticing the way his heart beat fast in a vein on his neck.
“Ya, Verity treats me special gut.” Albert took a small bite of his sandwich and began to chew.
In truth, time hadn’t stood still for either of them. His father’s eyes were on him, too, judging what he saw and probably finding fault with his clothes, the scar running down his cheek that screamed violence. But if his father was disappointed, he said nothing as he ate several bites and then pushed his half-eaten sandwich away. “My appetite isn’t what it used to be.”
“Nee. Mine, either.” Leviticus glanced around the sunny kitchen. Some things remained as he remembered them. The same pot rack held his mamm’s old cookware. The pot holders she’d made from spare quilting blocks hung from the same golden hooks. A familiar set of plastic canisters sat against the back wall on the counter. His mamm’s indecipherable handwriting labeled them as flour, sugar and coffee. Memories of her love and care caused him pain and added regret. She had been a woman of tiny stature, barely the size of a twelve-year-old child. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in spirit and determination.
He could still picture her scurrying around this room, preparing meals fit for a king. Her spunk kept him out of trouble with the elders during rumspringa. She’d always expected the best from everyone and gave back in kind. But he’d stolen, lied and drank too much during his time of running around, bringing her nothing but disgrace in the end. Shame ate at him, burned his throat. Had the stress been the reason she’d died so suddenly, and not hard work?
Leviticus stored away his memories. His father didn’t need to see him cry on his first day home. “You want a glass of water?”
“Ya, sure. Danki. I need to take my pill.” Albert opened one of the brown medicine bottles on the table and laughed. “I never thought I’d find myself pushing pills in my mouth morning and night, but Verity says she’ll tell the doctor if I don’t take them on time.”
He turned toward his soh, his expression incredulous. “You know, the doctor put me in an Englischer nursing home for three whole days after my stroke. But Otto sent Verity along. She pulled me out and brought me home, just like a gut dochder would do. I had to laugh at all her bluster and spirit, her bright copper hair flying wild about her kapp like she was Gott’s emissary come to rescue me.”
Albert guffawed. “Certain-sure she saved me from the grip of the enemy.” His head bobbed. “Ya, for certain-sure.” He set the bottle of pills he’d been holding on the table. “She’s been my right hand since that day, and a fine housekeeper, too.” He laughed again. “That girl has spunk. Just like your mamm. You should have married her while you had the chance.”
Leviticus knew he should have. He should have done a lot of things better than he had. Some had paid too high a price for his having his own way. He desperately needed Gott to show him mercy, remove the horrific dreams of war, the remains of PTSD still plaguing his mind from time to time. Would redemption remove his every sin as his bishop had preached when he was young? For now, he would live with the guilt burning his insides until God removed the pain. His father’s forgiveness would go a long way toward securing a measure of peace for his troubled mind.
Footsteps crossing the small wooden porch out back told him Solomon would soon be walking in through the back door. No doubt hungry and expecting Clara to be fixing his meal.
Leviticus prepared himself for their confrontation. Solomon had every right to be livid with him. A young man of twenty, he’d been left to deal with the grove, with a father set in his ways and growing feeble with age and illness. Had there been too little money to hire fruit pickers to help run the land, buy what was needed the last ten years?
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