The Promise of an Angel (A Heaven On Earth 1) (4 page)

Levi handed Andrew the lantern. “We won’t need the light.”

Andrew trained his eyes on Judith, then left without saying a word.

Levi motioned with his thumb in Andrew’s direction. “What did he want?”

Judith flipped her hand palm side up. “I burned my fingers on a match.”

Levi reached for her hand. His touch caused a coal-oven of heat to disperse over her, and any thought of needing a cape passed.

He released her hand. “Let’s walk.”

She ran her hand along her arm to smooth the goose bumps that had formed from his touch.

“Are you all right?”

She’d be all right if she could calm herself before he noticed her nervous fidgeting. “I’m worried, is all.”

“About Samuel?” He stopped her hand from brushing her sleeve and held it.

While Andrew’s hands had a calming effect, Levi’s hold was unsettling. She shivered more, and not from the cool air. He squeezed her hand when she didn’t reply, and his smile spread wide. “
Kumm mitt mich
.”

Judith freed her hand from his. “I need to stay close to the house.” What would people say if they were seen wandering off into the dark? “Besides,” she said, “there is food inside to put away and . . . and you haven’t eaten.” Her stomach had rolled so many times, she feared anything she attempted to eat wouldn’t stay down long.

“I’ll eat later.
Kumm
, I won’t keep you long.”

Levi’s convincing arm-tug overrode her apprehension, and Judith followed him beyond the spread of the porch’s lantern light. They stopped under the low-lying branches of a maple tree.

“From here we can still see the porch.”

Judith glanced in that direction. With the lamp lit, she could easily see the last of the women milling outside on the porch with
Aenti
Lilly.

“You spent a great deal of time under this tree today,” he said.

She tapped the tree trunk as if patting the hand of a good friend. “The shade kept the children cool.” She hid the real reason. From under the tree, she’d had an unobstructed view of him as he worked on the barn. Judith leaned against the tree. She’d spent endless hours in this same spot dreaming of the day she’d be alone with Levi.

He rested his shoulder against the trunk and faced her. “Children love you, don’t they?”

“The way my sister batted her lashes at you during prayer, I’d say children love you too.”

He chuckled. “Rebecca is sweet.”

“I was referring to Martha.”

“Martha’s seventeen. She’s hardly a child anymore.”

While to most members of their settlement, turning seventeen meant one had reached courting age, Judith’s parents developed their own guidelines. They had requested that she wait until age nineteen, and she assumed the same restrictions would apply to Martha.

Levi leaned forward, his breath warming her face. “It’s
nett
the Lord’s will to be jealous of your sister.”

The ridges of bark pressed against her spine as she held her reply.

He sighed. “I wish I could see your expression.”

Judith swallowed. If the darkness hadn’t masked her face, he would see the truth. The ugly, sinful truth. She was jealous of her sister. Any unmarried man in the settlement would line his buggy up to drive her home from singing. Martha’s smooth skin and long dark lashes made Judith feel plain. And clearly Martha already knew how to gain male attention.

Judith tipped her face higher and changed the subject. “Did you see the
Englisch
man today? I followed him into the apple orchard.”

“
Nett
so.”

“He disappeared into the fog.”

Levi chuckled. “There was no fog in the air today.” He moved closer, touched the dangling tie-string of her prayer
kapp
, and slid his fingers between the strings to the ends. “God doesn’t want you to tell stories,” he said while tying the ends into a bow under her chin.

Judith untied the head covering. “I saw a man.”

He reached for the bottom of the string.

She tilted her face downward and waited, sure he would again silently remind her that lies were sin by retying her
kapp
. Instead, he coiled the string around his finger.

“How many children do you want?” he asked. “A dozen?”

“More.”

Her quick reply stopped his coiling midway up the string. Neither spoke. If they were courting, such a personal question wouldn’t sound odd. Still, his asking about her future was a pleasant surprise.

He continued to gather the string around his finger. “More than a dozen?” he asked, unguarded confidence in his playful tone. He released the string and tipped her chin upward. “Do I have to wait until you’re nineteen
meiya
to kiss you?”

Patches of moonlight spread through the maple tree’s leaves, spotlighting his wide smile. She couldn’t answer without first catching her breath.

But Levi didn’t wait. Before she blinked, he’d kissed her. Although it ended much quicker than she’d dreamt her first kiss would, her heart clapped all the same. Even the leaves overhead, unsettled by a swift breeze, seemed to applaud.

“I want more than a dozen too.”

“Why do you tell me that?”

He ground his boot into the dirt like an unsteady horse. “If you’d learn how to kiss, you’d be closer to making your dream come true.”

Resentfully she moved away from the tree. “You’re comparing me to those
Englisch
girls I hear you’ve kissed during your
rumschpringe
.”

He not only didn’t deny her accusations, he didn’t even hang his head in shame. Instead, he smirked.

“I intend that my husband teach me the ways of kissing.” She turned. “I have to go.”

He clutched her wrist. “Those girls didn’t mean anything.”

Judith inhaled a sharp breath. He kissed girls without it meaning anything? Why did he kiss them, then? And of greater importance, why had he kissed her?

He drew her close. “My
rumschpringe
is over. I want to—”

“Levi?” Andrew stood at the edge of the path with a lantern held high in the air.

“I have to go. Andrew’s giving me a ride home.” He leaned forward, but instead of kissing her again, he tugged the string of her prayer
kapp
and tromped off.

Andrew climbed into the buggy and waited for Levi to come out from the woods. He would give his younger cousin a few more minutes, but he didn’t intend to wait half the night. Levi would have to walk if he lingered much longer. Andrew had his own chores to do, and he’d promised to return in the morning to do the Fischers’ milking. He would do more if it released the burled knot that had formed in his stomach after Samuel’s accident. He should have never given the boy the nail.

Ich
didn’t have time to eat.” Levi climbed inside the buggy. “And you have poor timing.” He plopped down on the bench and folded his arms.

Andrew didn’t dare imagine what that meant. Something told him the comment had nothing to do with missing his meal. At twenty years of age, his cousin had much to work out with the Lord prior to gaining church approval. Not that Levi had requested baptism. But certainly he had to make the commitment someday soon.

Andrew caught sight of a form moving from the wooded area over the moonlit lawn. “You left Judith alone in the woods?”

“At the edge.”

Andrew shook his head. “I’ll wait if you want to walk her to the door.”

Levi didn’t budge from the seat. He motioned toward Judith. “She’s in the yard
nau
.”

“You don’t know how to treat a woman, do you?” Andrew waited until Judith reached the porch, then tapped Patsy with the reins.

“No lectures, Bishop Junior.” Levi laughed. “Besides, how much practice have you had?”

His cousin had a point. Compared to Levi, Andrew had no experience with women. The friendship he’d shared with Esther would have matured into marriage had she not died. Had his heart not died with hers.

Levi elbowed him. “You should’ve used your time before baptism more wisely.”

“Wise is not sampling women like a new flavor of ice cream.” Andrew clicked his tongue, encouraging Patsy into a faster trot. There wasn’t anything wise about the wayward decisions his cousin made, but Andrew dared not discuss them for fear of passing judgment.

He pulled back on the reins once they neared Levi’s house, and Pasty slowed her pace until they were in the drive. “I would think with Judith turning nineteen, you’re ready for a serious commitment.”

“She’s
shiklich, saund
, and”—Levi stepped out of the buggy, chuckling—“not fun.
Jah
, I suppose I will marry her.”

“You don’t sound all that sure it’s a
gut
idea.”

“Jah
.
”
Levi grinned. “Let’s just say, there’s a distracting reason not to be baptized yet.”

Fire
.

Judith pushed away from the kitchen window and rushed to the door. “The barn’s on fire! Get the others!” She sprinted toward the glowing structure, her mind whirling. The calves, horses . . . Rusty . . . she had to save Samuel’s horse.

Inside, Judith skidded across the straw on the floor to a stop. Behind her the wooden door slammed closed.

The barn was illuminated, but not from a fire.

It was him.

The
Englischer
she had seen at Samuel’s side. An unearthly glow hung suspended around the stranger. The blinding light was more than she could look upon, and Judith lifted her arm, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow.

The barn filled with rich voices chanting, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.”

Still Judith didn’t dare open her eyes, and she sank to her knees.

The chanting stopped.

“Everything is possible for those who believe,” said a deep baritone voice.

Fully aware of the trance suspending her, Judith remained silent. Deep within, every fiber of her being trembled. She sensed the man near, as though his breath surrounded her as he spoke.

“To everyone a measure of faith has been given.”

A rush of wind pelted her body with the straw and dust stirred up from the floor, followed by a serene stillness and peace. Opening her eyes, she watched the image grow faint as the light faded. Then he was gone.

A commotion and voices at the barn door alerted her senses fully.

“It’s all right,” she called out as
Onkle
Amos and
Aenti
Lilly dashed inside carrying buckets.

Onkle
Amos turned to her, his head cocked sideways. “Where’s the fire?”

Judith looked at her
aenti
. “Did you see the bright light radiating from the barn? I was worried about Samuel’s horse. And the calves.”

Aenti
Lilly stretched out her arms to Judith. “
Kumm
, let’s go back to the
haus
.”

Judith leaned against her aunt’s shoulder. “You didn’t see the light?”

“Shh . . . I know.” Her aunt led her to the door. “I’ll take you inside where you can rest.”

Judith stopped. “They’re okay, the animals,
jah
?”

“They’re fine, Judith. Nothing happened.”

“Ach
.
”
A wave of dizziness washed over Judith, and she lifted her hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand. I saw the light from the kitchen window. Didn’t you see him?”

“Who?”

“The angel.”

Aenti
Lilly opened the door to the house. “You need to lie down.” She turned to
Onkle
Amos, who had followed them into the house. “She’s overcome with grief. It’ll pass. She needs to lie down and rest.”
Aenti
Lilly guided Judith by the elbow down the hallway to her bedroom. “Should I stay with you tonight?”

“
Nay
, I’m going to sleep
nau
.”

Aenti
Lilly paused at the door. “I’ll check on you in the morning.”

Judith crawled under the covers. This day was too much. Her head collapsed against the pillow and she closed her eyes.

To everyone a measure of faith .
. .