Lifted Up by Angels (5 page)

“It is not fast like your car,” Ethan said.

“Slow is good sometimes.”

Charity asked, “Will you take me for a ride in your car as you have my brothers?”

“Whenever you want.”

“I will have to come into town with Ethan for such a ride. My papa would not approve.”

Leah didn’t like being cast in the role of perpetually bad influence, but she hated to tell Charity no. Glancing at Ethan, she said, “I’d like to see those woods where your father cut the Christmas tree for our hospital floor.”

“I will show the woods to you.”

Darkness fell and Leah watched the stars come out. Eventually Ethan turned the buggy down a side road and Leah saw a farmhouse and a barn off in the distance, windows aglow with electric lights. “Is this an Amish farm? I see lights.”

“The Yoders are not as strict as Papa,” Charity said. “That is why so many like to gather here.”

The barn was surrounded by buggies as well as automobiles. Music spilled from an open door. Ethan pulled back on the reins. The buggy lurched to a halt. He hopped out, tied the horse to a railing and came around to help his sister down. Then he reached up to help Leah. She stood, and the buggy swayed. “I’m not used to floors that keep moving after the vehicle stops,” she said with a nervous laugh. The horse
shifted, and Ethan’s strong hands gripped her waist. He lifted her as effortlessly as if she’d been a doll. She stood on the ground facing him, his hands still encircling her waist, and for a moment she could scarcely catch her breath. He smelled fresh and clean, like soap. He’d left his hat on the seat, and his homespun shirt was open at the neck, making him look less Amish.
For my sake?
she wondered.

Once inside, Leah tried to ignore all the eyes that stared, the heads that turned. The gathering was large, full of kids in their early teens, dressed in a mix of plain Amish and modern clothing: jeans, denim shirts, khaki slacks and stylish T-shirts. She felt as if she’d stumbled into a stage production where everyone was in costume. The animated conversation from the different groups slowed as people checked her out. Ethan gripped her hand, and he and Charity led her over to a cluster of girls dressed Amish-style.

“This is my friend Leah,” Charity explained. “You know, the one I told you about from the hospital.”

The girls were polite, but curiosity burned in their eyes. In the background, conversation
grew louder and someone put on a CD. Funky music blared from speakers set up in the corner of the barn.

“Come,” Ethan said. “We’ll get some cookies.”

Leah was certain she’d never choke one down, but she went with him to a long table filled with refreshments. From the corner of her eye, she saw a group of boys at the end of the table. Several were holding beer cans. “Are they drinking beer?” she asked.

“Yes. Some of the boys sneak it in sometimes,” he said, giving a disapproving look. “But it should not be here.” He looked at her. “If you’d like one, I can get it for you. I know they have more outside.”

“No way. I hate the taste of the stuff.” Leah was surprised to see the boys drinking. “I guess I have a lot to learn about you Amish,” Leah said, taking a cup of punch from him.

“Things are not always what they seem, Leah. Everyone here is free to try the things of the world. But we are still accountable to our families and our traditions.”

“So I’m learning.” She wondered what was going on inside Ethan, where he fit in in this strange no-man’s-land of Amish tradition and
English worldliness. She felt a kinship with him. They were both searching for a place where they belonged.

Three of the boys dressed English-style drifted over to them. They stopped in a semicircle in front of Leah and Ethan. The biggest guy, standing over six feet with hands the size of footballs, spoke to Ethan in German. Ethan answered in German in a tone that sounded sharp. Then Ethan said, “In English, Jonah. Say what you want to say in English.”

Jonah acknowledged Leah with his eyes. “It is not common for English to attend our parties,” he said. “Especially English that nobody knows.”

She squared her chin. “I’m Leah Lewis-Hall, and I’m working and living in Nappanee this summer. I do know some people here. Not you, though. Glad to meet you.” She smiled, although her insides quivered like jelly.

“And I am Jonah Dewberry. My sister Martha is over there.” He pointed to a row of chairs where several girls sat looking at them. Martha wore jeans, boots, and a blue T-shirt. Her long dark hair hung loose down her back. With dismay, Leah saw that she was quite pretty.

Martha gave a little wave, and Ethan nodded at her, then turned back to Jonah. “Now that we have all met, perhaps you will move out of our way,” Ethan said.

Jonah moved aside, and Ethan stepped around him, taking Leah with him. “Ethan,” Jonah said, “tell me, do English girls
schnitzel
as well as Amish girls?”

Ethan’s face turned bright red. “You must find this out on your own, Jonah,” he replied evenly. “If you can find an English girl who will
schnitzel
you.”

Jonah’s face reddened. He leaned closer. “I have another question. Now that you are dating English, will you become one of us?”

“I am one of you.”

“You still dress Amish. You still hold yourself apart. Separate. You are proud.”

Leah knew that to call an Amish person proud was an insult, and she could see by the way Ethan stiffened that the remark had hit home. She held her breath.

Ethan turned and looked Jonah directly in the eye. “What I do is my business. Who I decide to be with is my choice. I am leaving with Leah now. Will you take Charity home for me?”

Jonah nodded. “If she will come with me.”

“If you ask her, she will go.”

Once outside, Leah stopped short. She was glad to be out of the barn, but she felt confused. “Wait a minute, Ethan. I don’t get it. At first I thought you and Jonah would come to blows. I mean, most of the guys I know would have been swinging fists at each other by now. It’s clear to me that Jonah didn’t like you bringing me here. He thinks you should be with his sister.”

“I do not care what he thinks.” Ethan helped Leah into the buggy and untied his horse from the railing. “Jonah is Amish. I am Amish. Amish do not fight, no matter what. Not even in wars for the country. It is our way.”

Leah settled onto the hard buggy seat. “But you were angry with each other.”

“That is true.”

“So why did you ask him to take Charity home? That doesn’t seem like a nice thing to do to her.”

“Jonah cares for my sister.” He clicked his tongue and the horse went forward. “He would jump at the chance to be with her.”

“But what does Charity want? Maybe she didn’t want to go home with that—that Neanderthal!”

Ethan chuckled. “Oh, she likes Jonah Dewberry very much. He has taken her home in his buggy many times, but lately he runs with older, wilder boys. Boys who may not return to Amish ways.”

Leah sighed in exasperation. The whole thing sounded like a soap opera to her. “Is Jonah her boyfriend? I mean, does
she
like this guy? He seemed very unfriendly.”

Ethan slipped his arm around Leah’s waist and pulled her closer to him on the buggy seat. “He is jealous because I came with the prettiest girl.”

Leah accepted his compliment silently, knowing it wasn’t the truth. She’d been around enough to know that the Amish kids weren’t going to welcome her into their midst regardless of who had invited her to come along. It might turn out to be a long summer!

Lost in thought, Leah listened to the clopping of the horse’s hooves on the roadway and watched the late-rising moon peek from behind a cloud bank. She recognized the Longacre property as the buggy turned onto it and felt a twinge of disappointment. Although the dance had been a flop, she’d hoped that their evening together might have lasted longer.

Ethan didn’t drive the buggy to the place where her car was parked. Instead, he took them across a bumpy field toward a wooded area. At the edge of the tree line, he halted the buggy, hopped out and helped Leah down. “Come,” he said. “I will show you a place like no other.”

She followed him through the woods. A soft summer breeze stirred through scented pine needles, making a whispery, papery sound. They came into a clearing where a giant rock rested on a cushion of leaves and needles. He lifted her up and settled her on top of the boulder.

“This is my favorite place,” he said. “Here, I feel peace. Whenever I am confused or angry, this is where I come.”

She turned her face heavenward. A thousand stars twinkled above her. Moonlight bleached the ground snowy white. “It’s really beautiful, Ethan. This is where the Christmas tree came from, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He stood gazing down at her, his face lit on one side by the silvery moon.

Leah said, “It’s more like a church than some churches I’ve been in. I’ve been going to a church back home, you know.” She wasn’t sure
why she was telling Ethan this, except that she knew his faith was important to him. “I figure I owe God something, I mean, since my bout with cancer and all.” She reached for Ethan’s hand and rested it on the knee where her cancer had been discovered. The warmth from his palm spread through the material of her skirt. “I’m glad you were there for me. I’m not sure how I would have made it if it hadn’t been for you and Charity.”

“Knowing you has been special to me, Leah.” He touched her hair.

Her heart skipped a beat. “I’m sorry your friends don’t approve of me.”

“I do not care what my friends think.”

“What did Jonah mean when he said
‘schnitzel’?
Is it a bad word?”

He chuckled. “It’s a made-up word that some Amish use for ‘kissing.’ An older Amish girl usually kisses—
schnitzels
—a boy when he turns sixteen.”

She felt the stirring of jealousy. Had the kiss she and Ethan shared in the hospital truly been his first? “So tell me, do I measure up? Do I
schnitzel
as well as an Amish girl?”

He cupped her face in his rough, work-worn
hands. “I do not know. You are the only girl I have ever kissed.”

Her body began to tingle. “It’s hard to believe you weren’t kissed before.”

“It is the truth.” He offered no other explanation.

Leah burned with curiosity to know why not.

“But,” he said, “I want very much to kiss you now.”

All other thoughts fled her mind. She slid off the rock to stand facing him. “I would like for you to kiss me.” She raised her arms to encircle his neck.

He pulled her body closer, pressing his hands against the small of her back. He lowered his mouth to hers, touching her lips with a velvet softness that left her dizzy. And longing for more.

“H
i. I’m Kathy Kelly. You must be Leah.” A cute girl with a tangle of brown curly hair grinned at Leah.

Leah returned the smile. “I guess we’ll be working together.”

The two of them stood in the hallway of the Sunshine Inn Bed and Breakfast, dressed in the shapeless uniforms that Mrs. Stoltz insisted her helpers wear. Kathy said, “This is my second summer working at the inn. I’ll only be here through July Fourth weekend, though. Then I’m off to cheerleading camp. How about you? You ever do this kind of work before?”

“No. I worked in a fast-food place when I lived in Dallas.”

“Dallas—wow, lucky you. I’ve been stuck here in Dullsville since my parents moved here when I was in seventh grade. I’m saving for college. How about you?”

“Just living here for the summer.”

“You mean you
chose
to spend the summer here?”

“It’s a long story.” Leah certainly didn’t want to go into her life history at the moment.

“You’re not Amish, are you?”

Leah shook her head.

“Me either.” Kathy rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong with being Amish?”

“Nothing … if you like being ignored. I went to school with some of them and they sure keep in their own little circles. Tight as gum stuck to your shoe.”

“Do you know the Longacres? I’m kind of a friend of theirs.” Leah wanted Kathy to know that she didn’t want to hear her trash the Amish.