Chapter 3
If he found it odd that he’d chosen to steal a horse, survived a gunshot wound, and then decided to escort a soaked schoolteacher back to his home after he’d forced a kiss from her novice mouth, it could be no stranger than his automatic actions over the past few months. He’d become more and more restless as Sarah’s wedding date approached. There was no sense denying it—when he’d realized he’d lost Sarah, that in truth he’d never had her, it had devastated him. And there seemed no reason to pretend otherwise. So he’d mentally agonized through the summer and fall, trying to pray, trying to work, and generally feeling more and more despondent as winter set in.
He gave a sidelong glance at Lilly Lapp as she hugged her arms across her chest and shivered, her lips visibly blue—lips he’d deliberately warmed with his own. It had never occurred to him that it might be her first kiss. Now he had to push away a wave of chagrin when he thought about his behavior. Lilly Lapp was someone who’d never even registered in his passing vision let alone his thoughts. Of course, he’d gone to school with her and seen her occasionally about the Lapp farm, often in the shadow of her father. Old Dr. Lapp had been the local veterinarian since Jacob was a child, and he’d learned much about horses and their care from the cheerful Amish man. But Dr. Lapp had passed away, leaving behind a grieving wife, and Lilly, his only child. More than that, Jacob’s mind whispered, the death of Dr. Lapp had made room for Dr. Grant Williams to appear and nothing had been the same since. There was no use dwelling on it. The Lord knew he’d spent long enough doing that these past months.
“Come over here,” he said, indicating the small distance between them in the buggy.
“Nee. I’m fine.”
He sighed. “If we’re going to be coconspirators, I can’t let you freeze to death before we can accomplish our plan. I promise I mean you no impropriety.” He choked on a sudden laugh at his formality after the brazen kiss in the barn.
She threw him a wry look that suggested she knew what he was thinking but scooted a bit closer under his outstretched arm anyway. He enclosed her cloaked shoulder in his big hand, sliding her firmly up against his side. He felt her quaking even through the thick wool of his coat and frowned.
“We’re almost there,” he soothed kindly, raising his chin toward the large Wyse horse farm and barns visible over the next rise in the road. “I just don’t want to make the mare go too fast.”
“It looks like her right side took the brunt of the lashings.”
“Jah,” he agreed, his jaw squaring when he thought of Granger. “Those will soon heal well enough. The two on her rump are the deepest. I’m most worried about those—and her spirit.”
“Are you going to take her back?”
He looked down at her. “Are you asking if I’m going to come clean with Granger? Yes, teacher, right after today’s big doings, but I need to get through the wedding first.” He watched her lips part on a sigh, revealing perfect white teeth, and went on.
“Perhaps I could let money talk to Granger. He might overlook the theft if I offer a more-than-fair price for the mare.”
She looked back at him, understanding dawning in her eyes. “You’ve thought that all along, haven’t you? Even when you took her? Then why didn’t you just buy her outright? Why go to all this trouble? And what did you think would happen when you did steal her—especially if Granger caught sight of you? That he would merrily wave you off?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like I asked to be shot.” He gave her a wry smile. “I was wrong—that’s it. I have no excuse. I was mad and I gave in to the sin of anger. I wanted to do violence to Granger. I wanted to … to break something. The hold he held on the mare, maybe.”
“Just like a fairy tale,” she remarked.
“A what?”
“Rescuing the damsel in distress—only this one happens to be a horse.”
He felt baffled. What did a fairy tale have to do with anything?
“Too bad it wasn’t Sarah you rescued, eh?”
He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “Are you comparing Sarah to a horse?” he tried to quip, hoping to change the direction of the conversation.
“No.”
He pursed his lips. “Well, let’s just say that you’ve got quite the imagination, but I guess you need it to work with children. Here we are.”
He swung the buggy down the narrow lane and avoided the palpable sensation of her stare.
I‘ll take the mare into the barn and tend to her a bit. Go on in. My mamm and daed’s room is the first door off the sitting area. Help yourself to whatever you can find to wear, although Mamm’s clothes may be a bit short on you.”
She looked away from his measuring gaze and tried hard to forget about the sensation of his fervent kiss. Taking his offered hand, she stepped from the buggy, hastened past him, and took the steps up to the porch. She glanced back to watch him lead the mare to a nearby barn, then slipped through the unlocked door.
Lilly had only been to the Wyse home for Meeting, and then it was always so crowded that she’d never really had a chance to look around the beautiful downstairs with its detailed woodworking, comfortable-looking chairs, and pristine kitchen with wild winter roses growing from a watering can on the bright windowsill.
It was such a contrast to her own home where heavy, dark furniture blocked the windows of most rooms and the stinging scent of pine oil often permeated the air. Her mamm had so changed since the death of her daed that she now seemed to hide from the sunlight. The Wyses’ home, on the other hand, gleamed with light and smelled like a combination of fresh baking and starched linen, presenting quite an inviting atmosphere.
Despite Jacob’s invitation to be bold, she slipped off her shoes and tiptoed into the bedroom, turning up a kerosene lamp on a lovely cherry bedside table. She removed her ruined bonnet and soaked prayer kapp and then pulled as many hairpins as she could find from the tangled mass of her dark hair. Then she caught sight of the walls and her lips parted in surprise and wonder.
She pivoted on wet, stockinged feet to stare with amazement at the paintings that decorated the light wood. She drew a deep breath at myriad striking watercolors portraying Amish life in bright detail. Kinner and men with long beards, planting and harvest, all seasons of life and earth seemed to be represented by the artist’s brush. She marveled at the irresistible beauty of the images. She knew that some Old Order Amish communities eschewed art as being impractical, but the local bishop encouraged the use of the Lord’s given talents. And these paintings certainly seemed purposeful in capturing the life and vitality of her people.
A quick knock on the door sounded. She responded in an absent tone, her mind enraptured. “Come in.”
There was a distinct moment of silence, a sudden drifting awareness, and then the dawning knowledge that Jacob had entered the room, and that her hair hung loose and damp below her waist. It was only the privilege of a husband to view his wife’s hair unbound, and her lack of haste had put her in this awkward situation. She started to bundle the dark mass up with frantic fingers but to no avail. She discarded the passing, childish thought to run and jump into the bright, quilted bed and hide under the covers.
“Jacob—I—the paintings. They’re amazing. Who does them?”
“Seth. It’s kind of a thing he only shares with the family. That’s why the paintings are in here. I’ve got one in my room.”
Lilly thought of Jacob’s younger brother. Twenty-three-year-old Seth Wyse, with his golden hair and bright blue eyes, seemed the absolute antithesis of the dark Jacob. Although the brothers were similar in attracting the girls, Seth had an infectious grin, a cheerful disposition, and the deepest baritone at singings. He was a charmer to be sure. Yet his paintings revealed a side of him that she never imagined existed. The depth and maturity of the art drew both heart and spirit.
She held her hair back over her shoulders and wished Jacob would go out, seeking for something to say to break the moment.
“You must be very proud of Seth.”
“He’s my little bruder, but he’s my best friend. I’d ask you not to say anything of his painting though. It really is a private thing.”
“Of course, but it’s also a gift from Derr Herr.” She tried not to shiver. “Do you think he might come to school one day to give the kinner a drawing lesson?” She smiled at the thought while a frown appeared on Jacob’s face.
“Seth’s finished his schooling.”
“Ach, I know but—”
“You’d best hurry. And, if you don’t mind, I could use a bit of help bandaging this arm again before I change my shirt.”
Politely snubbed, Lilly thought. She began to tap one slender foot in the same rhythm she used when dealing with stubborn students.
“Am I in trouble?” he asked, his mood quicksilver and his deep voice laced with humor. “I always seemed to rub teachers the wrong way when I was in school; things must not have changed much.”
She stopped tapping when her arms began to ache from holding her hair back. “You know perfectly well that I’m standing here, with my hair down, and you should show enough respect to—”
He laughed aloud and she frowned at the provoking sound.
“After aiding a horse thief, checking out a gunshot wound, and time alone in a deserted barn, you’re worried about your hair being down?”
“Yes,” she snapped, ignoring the faint guilt that added a heated kiss to his list.
“Your priorities are strange, teacher, but if you still want to go, you need to hurry. The ceremony will be over and they’ll be at the food soon. I will go out while you change, of course.”
“Of course,” she said. As his eyes sparkled at her, she felt foolish for losing her temper. He gave her a parting grin, and she went to the bureau to find dry underclothes and socks and then hastened to change into a dark green blouse, black dress, and apron. She bundled her hair back up into a dry kapp, then glanced ruefully down at her borrowed attire. The clothes were too short on her, revealing both black-stockinged ankles and long white arms.
Nevertheless, she really had no choice; she couldn’t return home for her own things. she’d have to explain the situation to her mother, who would have risen from her bed by now but would be ensconced on a couch downstairs. And she’d gone to all the trouble of securing a substitute teacher from Elk County for her class. This wedding, like most winter weddings, was being held on a less busy weekday instead of the weekend. More than that, she did not want to miss this social opportunity, even if it had become one of the most upside-down days of her young life.
She prayed as she extinguished the lamp and left the room, wanting to greet Jacob with encouragement and an apology for her snap of temper. When she went into the sitting area, she stopped when she saw him standing next to the kitchen sink, his shirt off and his back toward her. She did have an interest in the study of anatomy, but it was one thing to read it in a book and quite another to see it clearly delineated in broad musculature and well-shaped bones. And, she reasoned, she’d been so used to caring for her daed in the latter stages of his illness that she’d nearly forgotten what health looked like in the human frame. Thus reassured, she approached him and he turned his head over his shoulder.
“I cleaned the exit wound as best as I can, but I can’t reach all the way round.”
She nodded, sidling next to him to wash her hands with soap. She ignored the scent of his body—something like pine and summer mixed together—and dampened a fresh cloth to clean the back of his arm. He flinched when she dabbed at the small entry wound.
“Sorry.”
He shook his head. “Just go on.”
She proceeded while he gripped the sink edge with white-tipped fingers. She felt naerfich, nervous, at his proximity, then told herself that the feeling was ridiculous in light of their kiss. But if she moved forward in any direction, she’d come in contact with his lean hip, the fall of his suspender, or the warmth of his tanned arm, and it made her skittish.
She ignored the faint groan that came from his lips as she bandaged the wound in haste. Then she avoided looking at him entirely as she helped him into the clean blue shirt he’d gotten.
“Look, I’m not going to kiss you again, all right?”
“I didn’t say you were.”
He worked at tucking the shirt into his dark waistband with one hand and frowned at her. “Nee, but you’re as naerfich as a cat.”
“Cats are actually remarkably sedate.” She slid across the room and bent to feel the everyday reality of the damp leather of her soaking shoes. Clearly he did make her nervous, and she decided she didn’t like the rattling of her normal composure. It would be best to help him and be done with it.
“Here’s a cloak and bonnet of Mamm’s. I’ll be outside waiting.”
She caught the fall of wool that he tossed to her and watched him leave, now properly covered in shirt and another coat, and exhaled a breath she’d been holding for a very long time.