LITMIR.BIZ

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don’t see that in your eyes now.”

      “It’s not the same.” Not since... Nein, she couldn’t think about all the terrible losses. But Aaron had given her an out. “Fine, we can leave. I’ll get the buggy and be back in a moment.”

      “Nein, I’ll get it. I don’t like the way you drive. Much too slow for me.” Daed had modified Aaron’s buggy with a ramp so he could roll in and out. He liked to spur his horse to trot as fast as possible. “You can stay. I think Solomon Mast wants to drive you home.”

      “He may want to, but he’s not going to. I’m not interested in him. Or in anyone for that matter. It’s only been a year since Daniel died.” When she spun around to go to the buggy, she hit something. Someone. Hard.

      The masculine scent of wood and horses enveloped her. The man grabbed her upper arm and prevented her from falling. The warmth of his hand seeped through her dress’s cotton sleeve. “Be careful.” His deep voice resonated in her ears.

      She stared into eyes the same green as the spring grass beneath her feet. For a moment, she forgot to breathe, the wind knocked out of her. Then she drew in a gulp of air and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

      “Are you alright?”

      She nodded, and lost her breath again. She knew those eyes. Much too well. Naomi’s heart throbbed in her chest as she took in the man’s straight reddish hair and his ruddy cheeks. “Elam Yoder. What are you doing here?”

      “Hello to you, too.” His words were strained. He wore Amish clothes. Dark pants, a light blue shirt and a straw hat.

      “You’ve come back?” She worked to keep her voice as controlled and distant as possible, even as she trembled from head to toe. How dare he show his face in this district again.

      “I have.”

      “Why?”

      “Because of Daed’s stroke. He needs my help around the farm until Isaac can sell his ranch in Montana and get home. So I’m here.”

      Aaron piped up behind her. “Hello, Elam.”

      “Aaron. It’s good to see you. How are you?”

      “Just on my way home. This isn’t for me.” He nodded in the barn’s direction where a clutch of young women giggled at what the young men said.

      Elam shuffled his feet. Seeing Aaron must make him uncomfortable. All the better. He should be uneasy. Should be ashamed of himself.

      “I’ll go to the barn with you, if you’d like.” Elam took a step in Aaron’s direction.

      Naomi jumped in between them. “That won’t be necessary. This wasn’t a gut idea for either one of us. We’ll be going now.”

      In the distance, footsteps crunched on the gravel driveway. Not some latecomer strolling up the road. Quick, light steps. Running. In the fading daylight, she made out the shape and size of the figure. Her younger brother, Samuel.

      He slid to a halt in front of them, panting, sweat dotting his brow. “Mamm sent me for you. Joseph woke up and is fussing, and she thinks he’s running a fever. His breathing is raspy.”

      A cry rose from her chest, but she trapped it in her throat. “Is he okay?”

      “I don’t know. Mamm just wanted me to get you. She didn’t say anything else, but I think you should hurry.”

      Her entire body turned cold. “Let’s go.” For her son’s sake, they had to be fast. “Aaron, get the buggy. Joseph’s labored breathing isn’t gut. The doctor told me to bring him right in with any kind of respiratory problem.”

      Before she could move, Elam grabbed her. Oh, the temptation to sink into his arms for comfort. Instead, she squirmed in his grip. “My bobbeli is sick. I have to get home to him.”

      Elam held on to her. “I still have my truck. I fixed it, and my license hasn’t expired. Let me take you home.”

      If possible, her heart rate elevated. “You want me to put my life in your hands?”

      “It will be faster.”

      She’d heard the crash that night, right in front of their house. She couldn’t wipe the sound of crunching metal out of her mind. Aaron’s screams. “I can’t. I can’t trust you. I will never trust you again.”

      * * *

      Naomi’s voice was as icy as the pond in January. Elam shivered. Both at her words and the sight of Aaron in his wheelchair. The young man worked the controls on the chair, spinning around until the wheel caught on a rock. He was stuck.

      Stuck in the wheelchair Elam had condemned him to. Every muscle in his body clenched. After three years, the vivid images hadn’t faded. Neither had the tinkling of shattered glass. Nor the echoes of Aaron’s cries of agony.

      He had stripped this man of his vitality and relegated him to a life of struggles and pain.

      “Come, Naomi, Joseph needs you.” Her brother Samuel tugged at her arm.

      Elam shook his head. He’d heard Naomi had married Daniel Miller. What, then, was she doing at a singing meant for singles?

      Naomi snapped to attention. She massaged the end of the string of her prayer kapp.

      “We could get to the clinic faster in the truck. I know I was rebellious when I was young, buying a truck and a cell phone when I was thinking about leaving the Amish. Only you held me here. That and the fact they couldn’t kick me out because I hadn’t been baptized. But I don’t have my cell phone anymore, so I won’t be distracted. You can trust me. The truck is in our barn across the street. In a few minutes, we can be on our way.”

      They didn’t have Rumspringa here like back East, but Elam had come close to it. “Sam, go home with Aaron. I’ll go with you, Elam, on one condition. You have to drive slowly. But get me to Joseph as fast as possible.”

      Elam gave a two-beat laugh. “I’ll try and do the impossible.” Not giving her time to change her mind, he sprinted down the gravel driveway and across the street to his daed’s farm. He flung open the barn door, his footsteps reverberating in the silence as he went to his truck.

      In the Englisch world, he had needed it to get around. He slipped inside and retrieved the key from under the floor mat. As he slid the key into the ignition and turned it, he drew in a deep breath, his heart pounding. He had thought his truck-driving days were behind him. The engine roared to life.

      He shifted into Drive, stepped on the gas and pulled from the barn. Naomi hadn’t changed. Big, almost purple-blue eyes in a heart-shaped face. A delicate nose. How she tugged on her kapp string when she was nervous.

      His breath stuck in his throat. She had turned her back on him after the accident. They had been planning their wedding, but she refused to listen to his apologies. Refused to hear him out. And less than a year later, she had married someone else.

      And where was Daniel? Shouldn’t he have been with her? Or watching their son?

      As his headlights swept the road in front of him, they illuminated Naomi, who stood at the end of the drive. He stopped in front of her, and she climbed into the backseat.

      “You can sit up front.” He adjusted his rearview mirror.

      She buckled her belt. “This is where I always sit in a car.” Like she would do with any Englisch driver. That’s what she treated him as. An outsider.

      “Where do you live?”

      “At my parents’ house.” She gripped the edge of the seat.

      Had they retired to the dawdi haus already? They weren’t old and still had young children. Wouldn’t Daniel have his own place? Nothing about Naomi made sense. “So, how old is your bobbeli?”

      “Three

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