A Heart Made New (5 page)

“Not yet.”

“I’m not surprised.” Miriam’s brown eyes were more like chocolate ice cream than hot cocoa now. “You always were one to put off until tomorrow what you could do today.”

That was Miriam. No beating around the bush. Spontaneous with her words. Generous with her affection. How she survived in—Josiah stopped himself right there. Plain people might reserve their show of emotions, but that didn’t mean they lacked feelings.
We
, he reminded himself.
We don’t lack feelings.

“I reckon.” The words sounded stiff in his own ears. “I’d better get Annie home. A good supper and a good night’s sleep and she’ll be right as rain.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” Miriam pushed back from Annie and made a show of surveying her from head to toe. “Hmm, I don’t see any new holes.”

Annie giggled, the color returning to her face. “Silly girl.”

“Daed says I may be cheeky sometimes, but I’m a good girl.” Miriam grinned, but some underlying challenge in the words rang in Josiah’s ears. “Daed always tells the truth.”

Did Miriam know how blessed she was to still have a father to tell her the truth? Solomon Yonkers didn’t mince his words, and he protected his three daughters like a faithful shepherd. Josiah edged toward the shed. “We’d better get going. Luke will wonder why I’m not there to do the chores. I expect Leah is wondering the same thing about Annie.”

“If he’s heard about the shooting, he’s probably looking for you right now.”

“He’s planting Sudan grass today.”

“My brothers are doing the same.” Miriam nodded. “Will you be at the horse auction tomorrow?”

Josiah shrugged. “I imagine so. Ned can’t pull his weight on the plow anymore, and Luke is thinking of replacing him.” Here he was on firmer ground. Talking with Miriam like they used to talk, just a boy and a girl. “It’s a question of money.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Anyway…” Her dimpled cheeks turned pink. She turned to Annie. “Will you be at the singing Sunday night? Maybe Josiah can bring you.”

“I haven’t been to a singing in months.” Annie’s voice cracked. She turned her back on them and hoisted herself into the buggy. She swiped at her face with her sleeve. “Not since…well…I’m too old for that.”

Miriam’s sideways glance was an open invitation. Josiah shifted and cleared his throat. Singings were fun. Not his idea of great music and there weren’t any instruments, but he had found his peace with that. “I might—”

“Joe! There you are.” The voice which had haunted Josiah’s sleep many nights during the past year caught on the moist breeze and drifted over him. “I thought I heard you. I’ve been waiting forever.”

J
osiah went still at the sound of that voice. After a year he’d finally learned to turn it off, tune it out, see it as white noise left over from a season in his life that had ended with him clinging to life, tubes taped to his arms, machines beeping around him. But this was no dream. His boots were rooted to the ground in front of the blacksmith shop, mired in his reluctance to turn around and look at the girl who’d inspired the entire experience.

Annie glared at him from her spot in the buggy, but Miriam slipped past him and approached their visitor.

“Hello, Sarah. It’s nice to see you again.”

As usual, Miriam had far more grace and courage than he did. Wiping sweaty palms on his pants, Josiah pivoted. “Sarah.”

She looked different. Her hair, usually running like a red river down her back, had been caught up in a thick twist not quite covered by her kapp. She wore a long, dark blue skirt and white blouse instead of her favorite jeans and T-shirt. Only the pink tennis shoes reminded him of the New Order Mennonite girl he’d courted and once asked to marry him in an alcohol-induced haze.

With a quick but friendly nod, Sarah ducked past Miriam and grabbed his hand. “I need to talk to you.” She glanced at Annie. “Alone.”

“That’s not a good idea.” Annie stood, her hands knotted in the
material on either side of her dress as if she would leap from the buggy. “Luke said—”

“Annie, just give me a minute.” He glanced at Miriam, hoping she would see the apology in his face. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Or two.” Sarah tugged at his sleeve. Even without looking back, he could feel the cut of the two women’s disapproving glances, sharp as knives between his shoulders.
You promised
, they said without opening their mouths.

Inside the blacksmith shop, Sarah stepped into the light of the kerosene lantern that burned on a table in the corner. For a moment, she simply stared at him as if drinking in the sight. He could find no words to sum up everything that had happened since the last time their paths had crossed. He could still feel the warmth of her hand when she covered his one last time. And the way his heart had squeezed and exploded when the hospital room door slammed behind her.

“Caleb went over to the diner to get some supper.” The light breathlessness of her voice caught at Josiah. She remembered too. “He said I could wait here for you. He said to tell you not to bother with closing up; he’ll take care of it when he comes back.”

“Why are you here?”

“I missed you.” Sarah smoothed the starched material of her skirt. “I wrote you a couple of times, but I never heard back.”

Because he’d kept his promise to Luke. No more contact with the people who’d made his journey back to faith so complicated. Not that he blamed anyone—least of all Sarah—for his weakness of spirit. “Sarah, you know I can’t—”

“Don’t! Please, don’t!” She raised thin fingers and touched his lips. “Let me talk first, okay?”

Her fingers were warm and soft, just as he remembered them.
Stop.

“Annie’s had a rough day. She needs to go home. We both have chores to do.” Before he could give in to the urge to hug Sarah, he strode to the stall and opened the gate. “Come on, Mooch. Let’s go.”

He walked the horse past her. She stood, not moving, watching. He forced himself to meet her gaze. “Go home.”

“You don’t really want me to go home. We both know that.”

Sarah knew him better than any other person in the world, even Miriam, as hard as she tried. He picked up his pace. Mooch snorted and tossed his head, straining at the halter and forcing Josiah to hold on with both hands. He felt just like Mooch, struggling against restraints he couldn’t understand.

“Joe, please, I came here to tell you something.” Sarah tugged at his sleeve. “Stop for a minute.”

Joe. Only she called him that. He slowed.

Sarah slipped around him so he was forced to look into her blue eyes. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes for us to be together.”

“Whatever it takes?” His heart squeezed in a painful hiccup. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s not a big difference in what we believe.”

“Only in the way we live.” Josiah grabbed the string of her kapp and tugged. It slipped from her head and her loose bun threatened to come undone. “I remember running my hands through your hair. It felt like…like the down on a baby duckling. That’s not something a Plain man should do. Not this side of his marriage vows.”

He held out the kapp and she snatched it back. Ignoring the tears in her eyes, he plowed ahead. “Did you drive here? Did you borrow your brother’s truck? Did you listen to the radio on the way? I’m thinking there’s a cell phone in that bag and probably an iPod.”

“Joe, please!” Tears welled up in her blue eyes. “Why are you acting like this? I took the bus. I left my phone and my music at home. I’m serious. I thought you were serious. If you’re not…”

“You can’t become Amish just because of me. You have to join the faith. You have to live the way we live.”

“I believe what you believe. You just don’t believe in me.” She whirled and stumbled through the door.

Josiah stared at the empty space where Sarah had stood. She had once represented everything he thought he wanted. A way out. Now she wanted a way in.

“Sarah, wait!” He tugged Mooch through the door and into the
evening sunlight. The horse whinnied, high and tight. Miriam still stood at the buggy, one hand on the front wheel. She didn’t move. Neither did Annie. He tried to ignore their furious gazes. “Easy, boy, easy. Sarah, come back here. How long are you planning to stay in Bliss Creek? And where?”

She whirled and marched back, stopping within inches of him. The familiar smell of roses tantalized him. “I’m staying indefinitely.” Sounding as if she’d been running, she slapped the kapp back on her head. “How long depends on you. I could stay forever…or not.”

The tears were spilling down her cheeks now. He couldn’t help himself. He brushed them away. Her hands came up and captured his fingers. Ever aware of watchful gazes, he tugged them away. “Where will you stay?”

“I’m visiting my cousin Rachel and her family. They live out on Voelcker Lane.”

Voelcker Lane was on the other side of town, but Bliss Creek was small. Luke would run into her. Or Emma. Or worse, Leah. But it didn’t matter—Annie would spill the beans to Luke the second they returned to the house. As she should. He couldn’t blame her for remaining true to the
Ordnung
even though he could never seem to abide by it.

“I have to get Annie home.” Josiah swallowed against emotions that threatened to choke him. “I’ll…we’ll…we’ll talk soon.”

“Thank you, Joe. Thank you.”

She threw her arms around his waist in a tight, familiar hug. Josiah closed his eyes.

“No, no.” He jerked away, leaving her standing with her arms limp at her sides. He wanted to assure her somehow. He leaned in and whispered close to her ear, “I’ll come when I can.”

She nodded and walked away.

Miriam started forward. Neither spoke as her path crossed Sarah’s. As Miriam approached Josiah she smiled, a sad, sweet smile. “Goodbye…Joe.”

A
nnie wiped at her forehead with her sleeve. The heat of the day hadn’t dissipated yet, and the evening sun was shining directly in her eyes. The heat billowed off the blacktop. Josiah still hadn’t said a word since they pulled away from the shop. He held the reins so tightly his knuckles had gone white. She couldn’t stand the silence anymore—he had to tell her what was going on. Otherwise, she’d be forced to tell Luke that Sarah was in Bliss Creek. And not just in Bliss Creek…at the blacksmith shop with Josiah.

How could he do this to Miriam? Again. Poor Miriam. Annie’s heart ached for her friend as much as it did for her own situation. How had the two of them managed to fall in love with wayward men? “Well?”

“Well what?” Josiah slapped at a fly that buzzed in his face. “Well, nothing.”

“Don’t be dense.” Annie was too tired to pick her words with care. “You’ve made so much progress. Luke is so happy. We’re all so happy you’re back, and now it’s starting all over again.”

“No, it’s not.” His face morose, Josiah turned the buggy onto the dirt road that led to their house. “I didn’t know she was coming back.”

“You didn’t ask her to come here?”

“Why would I ask her to come to Bliss Creek?” The bitterness in
his voice sliced through Annie. She’d been so sure Josiah was content back where he belonged. His tone said differently. “If I wanted to be with Sarah, I would’ve gone back to Wichita. And we all know how well that turned out for me the first time. I’m not an idiot.”

Annie fended off memories of sitting in a hospital, waiting for the doctor to tell them if Josiah would live. “Are you sure? Because if you aren’t, you need to tell Miriam. Now.”

He jerked on the reins. Mooch snorted and halted by the front porch. “I’m sure.”

Annie stood, anxious to get out of the buggy. She was too tired to think clearly. “Then you need to tell Luke that she came and you sent her home.”

“She’s not going home. She’s staying with her cousin for a while.” He fiddled with the reins in his hands. “And you can’t tell Luke.”

“He needs to know. He can talk to Sarah’s father.”

“She’s eighteen. He can’t stop her from coming here—or staying here.” Josiah’s gaze dropped. He adjusted his hat. “She says she’s come here to join our faith.”

Annie missed a step and almost fell out of the buggy. She caught herself and stepped down. “Join our faith?” Her mind’s eye flashed to Sarah in the hospital waiting room. Purple flip-flops, jeans, a tank top, working a cell phone with both thumbs, her face intent underneath a kapp that didn’t begin to cover her flaming red hair. “The bishop will never allow it. Not unless she can prove she’s embracing the faith, and not you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Josiah clucked and snapped the reins. The buggy started forward. “Don’t tell Luke. I’ll convince her to go home. Soon. Right now, I’m going to do my chores.”

Annie watched him drive away. Poor Miriam. Annie wouldn’t have put up with her brother’s shenanigans. But then he was her brother, and not the man she loved. She put up with David’s stubbornness and his inability to tell her what was on his mind or in his heart. He insisted on carrying his burden like a big, fat log on his shoulder.

Irritated all over again, she glanced up at the house. It was sturdy
and simple, like her. The clean white walls and green trim invited her into a home warm with welcome. The thought brought tears to the surface again. All the way home she’d swallowed tears so that Josiah wouldn’t see her crying over David. Not that he would notice, so deep in a funk was he over the scene with Miriam and Sarah. But Miriam hadn’t made a scene, Annie reminded herself. She’d simply said her goodbyes and trudged away, shoulders back, her head held high.