Love Redeemed (7 page)

“Nee.” Phoebe backed away from the swing set. If she didn't get out now, she never would. “I'll be back in two shakes.”

“Promise?” Lydia's legs pumped and the swing sailed higher and higher, taking her sweet voice with it. “Two shakes?”

“Promise.”

Phoebe fled back to the picnic table and sat down opposite Michael. His hands lay flat on the table in front of him, and then he curled them up into balls. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He cleared his throat. “It's nice here.”

“It is. I like it.”

“The lake's…nice.”

“It's beautiful.” Phoebe wrapped her fingers in the soft cotton of her apron.
Come on, come on, Michael, you can do it.
“Why didn't you go fishing?”

His long, thin fingers traced a crack in the picnic table. “I was thinking…”

“Jah?”

“I was thinking we might…take a walk.” His gaze went to the kinner on the playground. “A short walk. I'd like to…talk to you…about something.”

Hallelujah.
Phoebe pinched the skin on the back of her hand to keep from saying the word aloud. “You didn't come to the singing last week. I thought…”

“One of our hogs was sick.”

That explained everything. Amazingly enough. “Did it die?”

“Jah.”

“I'm sorry.”

He cracked his knuckles. “Anyway, I wanted to go for a ride then, but I couldn't. A walk here would be even better.”

“I think so too.”

His face reddened under a deep tan. His head came up and his gaze met hers. She never thought of blue as being warm, but the color of his eyes reminded her of the flame on the gas stove when it was turned up high. Crackling with a heat that seeped into her bones.
“Gut.”

“When?”

“Now?” he asked.

Biting her lip, she tried to hide the wince. She glanced back at the playground. Hannah had Sarah in her arms, trying to get her to stand up. The little girl kept plopping on the blanket in her droopy diaper.
Caleb had a stick digging in the dirt by the monkey bars and Lilah was busy trying to catch a butterfly in her two outstretched hands.

That left Lydia, Philip, Ruthie, and Naomi taking turns on the swings. Philip, the little man, was trying to give Ruthie a push. He sat down hard on his rump and all four kinner howled with laughter.

“I guess you can't really leave right now.”

She turned back to him. If she didn't do this now, he might never ask again. Everything about the way he sat, the way he spoke, the way he couldn't meet her gaze, said he found this unbearable. She didn't know why, but she couldn't take a chance he would decide it wasn't worth it. “Hannah, I'll be right back.” She waggled her hand at her sister. Hannah frowned, but she waved back. “Two shakes, okay?”

“Okay.” It didn't sound okay, but hadn't Hannah just been talking about how grown-up she was? “Come right back. Mudder won't be gone long.”

Goose bumps ran up Phoebe's arm. She slid from her seat and tried to match her stride to Michael's. His long legs ate up the ground, forcing her to do a double step. They headed into the thick stand of trees that hugged the shore of the lake. An armadillo trundled across the path without looking up. Michael slowed, giving it safe passage and her time to catch up. “Sorry. I didn't mean to make you run.”

“That's okay. Those armadillos are strange looking, aren't they?”

“We probably look odd to them too.”

She laughed. “Never thought of that.”

“I guess I think too much sometimes.” Red crept across his damp face. The dark curls under his hat clung to his neck and forehead. “I think animals are interesting, that's all.”

“They are.” She rushed to assure him. “I think they are too.”

“This way.”

He headed into the stand of trees on the other side of the road that led from the camp grounds. Almost immediately dappled shade replaced sunshine. The air felt cooler and the leaves crackled under her feet in a thick carpet.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular.” Now that they were moving the tension
seemed to leave his body. He had a loose, easy stride that spoke of a familiarity with being outdoors and trudging long distances. The corners of his mouth turned up and his breathing eased. “Just far enough that we're…alone.”

Alone.

The goose bumps on her arms ran up her shoulders and traipsed across the back of her neck.

“I took a walk after breakfast and I found this place. It's a little cranny. You'll like it. There's a place to sit.”

A few minutes later and they were there. The trees opened up into a tiny clearing. “See, a bench.”

The bench was a fallen tree. Shyness descended on Phoebe. She never felt shy. Not in her life. Now she was alone with Michael for the first time. She'd thought of this moment, imagined this moment, so many times, that it didn't seem real now. It happened so quickly. Hoped for. Wished for. Prayed for. And now it was here in a place far from home, far from the barn and the horses and the creek that ran through their farm. Far from the familiar where she knew what the rules were. What were the rules here? She swallowed. “What now?”

He seemed to consider. “We sit. Just for a minute. I know you have to get back.” He sat as if to show her how and patted the tree log. “Right here.”

She sat.

They were both silent. Their breathing mingled with the sound of birds overhead and the rustling of leaves in a soft breeze. A dragonfly buzzed close by and a butterfly flitted among the bushes. Shafts of sunlight burst into the clearing as the oak and hickory branches bobbed above them. It was perfect.

“I—”

“We should—”

Michael laughed, a husky sound that sent another chill up her arm. “I wanted to ask you something.”

She nodded, afraid to breathe, afraid to move for fear the moment would be lost and the question would never come.

“If I were to shine my flashlight in your window, would you let me take you for a buggy ride sometime?”

Hallelujah times ten. Or twenty. She gripped her hands in her lap to keep from grabbing his. “I would like that.”

He exhaled a gusty, noisy breath.

She couldn't help it. She laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” He frowned. “This courting business—it's painful.”

“It's not that bad.” She giggled again. “It's a simple question. How hard can it be? You didn't have to bring me out here. You could ask anytime.”

He growled like an angry bear, but he smiled, that dimpled smile that displayed white, even teeth. “A girl would say that. You don't have to do the asking.”

“Nee, you have to wait to be asked. That's worse.”

He picked up a leaf from the ground and smoothed its wrinkled edges. It seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world to him, so closely did he study it. He tilted his head to one side and peeked at her. “Have you been waiting for me to ask you?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? That's the best you can do?”

“Truth be told…” Now she was the one ducking her head and studying the ground and looking for her own leaf. “Truth be told I've been waiting all my life for you to get the nerve to speak up.”

“All your life? Huh.” His hand touched her chin. She looked up at him. “Since you were a child? That's what you're telling me?”

“That's what I'm telling you.”

His hand dropped. He leaned in and kissed her. She saw it coming, but couldn't move to meet him, even though she wanted to more than anything. The kiss was soft, tentative at first, then stronger, almost fierce. Her first kiss. It couldn't be more perfect. The shade of the trees, the smell of bark and leaves. The smell of him, light, breathless, sweet.

He wrenched away, his face the color of a radish. “I'm…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I didn't mean any disrespect.”

Feeling as if she'd been dropped from the hay loft, Phoebe grabbed his hand. “I'm not sorry. I've been waiting for that forever too.”

“You have?”

“You must be blind as a bat. Do you need glasses?”

He laughed, an uncertain, dumbfounded sort of laugh. “You are a firecracker, Phoebe Christner.”

“Ach.”
She slapped her hands to her hot face. Had she sounded too forward? “Sorry. My daed says I never know when to close my mouth. I can't help it. It's just the way I am.”

“I like the way you are.”

“I sure hope so. You just kissed me.”

“It seems you kissed me back.” His gaze somber, he rubbed both big hands on his legs. “I don't think we're supposed to do that. Not yet anyway.”

Phoebe ducked her head. He was right. “That's the thing about me. I do everything double-time. You'll learn that about me. That's what my mudder says. I do everything in a hurry.”

“I'm a little slower on the uptake.” He took her hand and caressed the soft skin along the back of her knuckles. “I like to take my time and figure things out. Is that a problem?”

“Nee. Just don't wait too long.”

He kissed her again, this time short and sweet, then he let go. “I won't.” He stood. “We should get back. I don't want to leave your sister alone with the kinner too long.”

“We should—”

“Phoebe! Phoebe, where are you?”

Hannah's voice, high and shrill, shattered the soft quiet of the forest. It severed the bond that held them still, staring at each other, lost in those first few moments of beginning to learn just how achingly special someone could be.

“I need you! Phoebe!”

Chapter 5

P
hoebe stumbled to her feet. Hannah sounded frantic, more than frantic. Hysterical. Her heart slamming against her rib cage, Phoebe jolted forward. They'd only been here a minute or two, hadn't they? Time had lost meaning the second Michael sat next to her and began to talk. She dragged herself from those thoughts. “Here, I'm here, Hannah!” Her voice sounded puny and spun away in the breeze. “I'm coming!”

Two shakes. She'd said two shakes. What could've happened in the brief time since they left the campsite? All Hannah had to do was keep watch over seven kinner. Not that hard for a Plain girl. They'd been taking care of kinner their whole lives. “Call her,” she yelled at Michael, whose long strides ate up the ground ahead of her. “Your voice will carry better.”

“Hannah, here. We're here.”

His voice had deepened to a bass that made him sound just like his daed, Tobias. It boomed against the tall trees around them.

“Where?”

They surged around a bend in the soft dirt trail and there Hannah was, scrambling toward them, her face wet with tears, her cheeks red, little Sarah on her hip. “Where have you been? Where have you been?”

“Whoa, slow down.” Michael darted forward. He lifted Sarah from the girl's arms and settled her on his chest. “What happened? What's wrong?”

“Where are the other kinner?” Phoebe slammed to a halt. “What's wrong?”

“Rachel and Molly showed up right after…right after I realized I couldn't find Lydia.” Hannah sobbed over the words, painful, gasping sobs. “They helped me look. Molly watched the babies while Rachel and I looked.”

“What do you mean you couldn't find Lydia?” This didn't make sense. How hard could it be to keep a four-year-old on a playground? “Where is she? You found her, didn't you?”

“Nee,” Hannah wailed. “I can't find her. I can't find her anywhere. You said you'd be back. You promised. Two shakes, you said, two shakes. Come on, we have to find her.”

“Come on.” For a big man, Michael moved fast. He held Sarah with one arm as if she weighed nothing and headed down the trail, not looking back to see if they followed his command.

Phoebe tore after him, brambles ripping at her clothes, branches slapping in her face in his wake. Hannah's breathless sobs told her that her sister managed to keep up. Rocks and burrs bit into the soles of her bare feet. The pain barely registered. She stubbed a toe and swallowed a cry. They burst into the clearing, slowing for a brief second to make sure no cars would run them down, then slammed across the road.

Phoebe scanned the open space. The picnic tables. The playground. The open water ahead. No four-year-old in a lilac dress and bonnet. Molly huddled with the other kinner on the blanket. She shook her head at Phoebe's unasked question. “Rachel went to get help.”

“What happened?” Phoebe gasped. “How did this happen?”

“How did this happen?” Her voice far higher than usual and filled with accusation, Hannah dropped to her knees on the blanket and held up her arms. Michael deposited Sarah in her lap. “You mean how in the world did you decide to go traipsing into the woods instead of staying here and watching the kinner like you told Mudder you would?”

Gasping for air, Phoebe bent over and put her hands on her knees, trying to settle the rocking of her stomach. “I mean, how long has she been gone? Where did you look?”

“I took my eyes off them for just a second. Just a second.” Hannah
scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand. “I went to the tent to get another diaper for Sarah so I told Lydia to make sure the others stayed put. She's the oldest. She's four; she knows better.”

Hannah's tone begged Phoebe for confirmation. She'd done what Phoebe would've done. Even Mudder would've done. Lydia already had chores, gathering eggs in the chicken house, pulling weeds in the garden, snapping beans, trundling piles of laundry as tall as she was up the stairs to the bedrooms. She was old enough to make sure the babies stayed put. Phoebe nodded, sure her fear would show in her face. Four years old and lost on a lake of thousands of acres. This wasn't the farm where Lydia had been born and knew all the fun places to play hide-and-seek. Here, she would be truly lost.