An Amish Man of Ice Mountain (The Amish of Ice Mountain Series Book 2) (4 page)

Chapter Six

He knew he was dreaming, but he was caught in that nether world between sleep and wakefulness and couldn’t seem to escape
. . .

 

 

He gasped and awoke with a jerk, his gaze searching the room in the early morning light.
Dear Gott . . . Amanda. I dreamed of Amanda. Why?
Then his darting eyes took in the two figures curled up on his bed in obvious slumber. He saw the red hair against his pillow and sat back, working for breath. Then he understood. His dreaming mind had gone where his body would not. It was safe to think of Amanda when he truly had desire for the woman who slept so peacefully with her child before him. The realization was devastating, and he was trying to deny his feelings when Edward’s bedroom door suddenly opened.

Joseph stood up and crossed the room in long strides. He saw Edward’s sleepy gaze sweep the bed.

“What the—?”

Joseph caught his
bruder
and unceremoniously dragged him back into his own room, closing the door behind them with a quiet click.

“I can explain,” Joseph whispered.

Edward grinned at him. “Did I see the redheaded waitress in your bed?”

“Nee . . . Jah.”
Joseph sighed in exasperation. “Did you also happen to notice her child?”

Edward rumpled his blond hair. “No, but Joe, what—?”

“Listen, Edward, they’re homeless—Priscilla and her little girl. They live in a car out in the parking lot. It was raining last night and I worried for them, so I snuck them in. Now you can help me get them out.”

Edward’s blue eyes looked suddenly sober, and Joseph breathed a sigh of relief. No
Amisch
man from Ice Mountain would think of allowing such a circumstance for a woman and child, and he was glad he had Edward’s attention.

“All right, big
bruder
. What do we do?”

Joseph looked at the clock on Edward’s bedside table. Nearly five thirty a.m.

“We’ll have to hurry,” he said, trying to think. “Get dressed and let me go and wake them. I don’t want her to be frightened.”

Joseph started to open the door when Edward caught his shirt sleeve.

“What?”

Edward smiled. “It’s nice to see you care, Joe.”

He shook off his bruder’s hand and rolled his eyes as he quietly entered his bedroom
. But I don’t want to care . . . I don’t deserve to care . . . not ever.

Priscilla turned her cheek into the subtle warmth of the touch on her face; then she bolted wide awake with a gasp.

Her eyes frantically searched the half-lit room, looking for Heath.

She gazed up at the tall
Amisch
man in confusion for a moment, then remembered where she was.

“You touched me,” she accused in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m sorry. I had to wake you. You were sleeping so heavily.” Joseph’s deep voice registered true apology in her mind and she nodded, sinking next to Hollie to catch her breath. Then she rolled back and stared up at Joseph.

“Don’t ever touch me again.”

“I won’t. I understand.” He took a step away from the bed and she fought back the tears that came to her eyes.

“We have to hurry if you would like to be outside before others see you. The rain’s stopped.”

Priscilla felt her anxiety pulse upwards again at his words and frantically pushed away the covers. “I’ll change fast.” She rose and scurried to the bathroom, nearly tripping on the long nightshirt. She stripped off the flannel and grabbed her still damp clothes, careful not to look in the mirror as usual when she was naked. She dressed, then opened the door, only to stop dead still at the sight of Joseph’s brother sitting on the bed, smiling at Hollie.

“What’s going on?” She hated that her voice came out as a mere squeak. Joseph walked toward her as Hollie giggled out loud.

“Don’t be afraid. I told Edward about your—situation. He’s a
gut
man . . .”

“Thanks, Joe,” Edward called from the bed with a wry look. “Priscilla, you have a beautiful daughter here. Why is she living in a car?”

Priscilla saw Joseph startle at his brother’s words, and she almost reached out to touch his arm. But she dropped her hand and lifted her chin instead, speaking with determination.

“Because it’s home for now. It doesn’t matter where you live—it matters who you live with,” she quipped, then crawled onto the bed to start pulling on Hollie’s outdoor things.

“Fair enough.” Edward smiled.

“This is Joseph’s brother, Mommy,” Hollie announced proudly.

“I know, but we have to hurry. Now be still.” Priscilla hated Hollie’s sigh of discontent, but it was imperative that no one see them.

“What time are you on today?” Joseph asked quietly.

“Three to eleven.” She gathered Hollie in her arms and scooted off the bed. “Can we go now?”

She watched as Joseph seemed to hesitate.

“I hate to think of you both in that cramped car. Would you—be willing to go out, maybe to a local farm where Hollie could pet the animals?”

“Are you asking her on a date, Joe?” Edward drawled, stretching his lean length back against the pillows.

Priscilla saw Joseph’s handsome face flush and her heart beat faster.

“
Nee
, I—uh—wanted—”

“That would be nice,” Priscilla interjected, telling herself that she didn’t like Edward’s mockery, and that was why she’d agreed.

Hollie wriggled in her arms. “Yay! A real farm. Can I ride a pony?”

“Maybe, little one. We’ll see.”

Priscilla liked the way his green-gold eyes softened when he looked at Hollie. Then he held out his arms. “May I carry her? She must be heavy for you.”

Priscilla didn’t have much choice as Hollie practically leaped from her into Joseph’s grasp.
This is getting out of hand. Hollie cannot get too attached to this man . . . and neither can I.
She frowned at the sibilant whisper of her consciousness.

“Don’t worry so much,” Joseph whispered, almost as if he could read her thoughts, and Priscilla did not respond. Instead, she marched ahead of him to the door, nodded to Edward, and stepped into the hallway.

 

 

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief when he deposited Hollie into the back of the station wagon. Mercifully, no one had been about.

“I need to change out of these damp clothes,” Priscilla said pointedly, and he took the broad hint in good form, though images of her bare arms and legs raked through his mind.
It must be hard to change in a car . . .

“Surely,” he said, snapping back to the moment at hand. “I’ll—uh—go get us some breakfast to go.”

He shut the car door and walked back to the inn, entering the dining room. A few roughnecks were gathered at the tables, and Edward beckoned him over.

Joseph took a seat next to his
bruder
with a faint sigh.

“Don’t do it, Joe.”

“Don’t do what?”

Edward played with the rim of his ball cap for a second. “Fall for an
Englisch
girl and one with a
kind
at that.”

“I thought you said it was nice to see me care,” Joseph pointed out with a sour smile.

Edward leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “I was—wrong when I said that. And don’t get all mad because I’m trying to be serious for once. You need a
gut Amisch
girl, who’ll put up with your moods and cook and—”

“I am not moody,” Joseph snapped.

Edward half smiled. “
Jah
. . . right.”

Joseph drew a deep breath. “Look, I’m helping her out—that’s all. I don’t want anything else.”

Edward picked up the menu and leaned back. “All right, Joe. Have it your way, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll never give you the satisfaction.”

Edward raised a sardonic brow. “And I’ll dance at your wedding, big
bruder
. But tell me, will it be
Englisch
or
Amisch
?”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Joseph wanted to throttle Edward for stirring up such a churning caldron within him . . . After all, Priscilla had given him warning, and he had no doubt she meant it.
“Don’t touch me ever again.”
He swallowed hard, staring at his menu but not seeing the words as his mind scrabbled over the past.
“Don’t touch me . . .”

Chapter Seven

Priscilla tried to be casual about the excitement Hollie expressed over the amount of breakfast food that Joseph had provided.

“I wasn’t sure what-all you both like, so I got a little of everything,” he explained matter-of-factly as she let him climb into the car behind a towering stack of plastic takeout containers.

“Yay!” Hollie cried. “Are there pancakes?”

“Yep. Blueberry.”

Priscilla watched Joseph out of the corner of her eye without intending to, noting that he’d removed his hat and accommodated his tall frame with relative ease in the cramped confines of the front passenger seat. He handed out containers with easy grace, his lean fingers adept at satisfying Hollie’s request to cut up her pancakes.
He probably does many things well with his hands . . .
She shivered and pushed the thought away, concentrating on biting a perfectly done strip of bacon.

When they’d finished, Joseph put the few remainders of food in a single container and Priscilla observed him settle more comfortably in the passenger seat. “All right, ma’am . . . How about that farm?”

She put the key in the ignition. “I don’t know where to go. Do you want to drive?”

Joseph laughed. “I don’t know how.”

“Why can’t you drive? Daddy could drive,” Hollie announced.

Priscilla saw Joseph shrug good-naturedly. “I could probably figure it out in a pinch, but the
Amisch
where I come from don’t drive and don’t own cars.”

“I should have remembered,” Priscilla murmured, feeling the weight of Joseph’s questioning gaze. “My mother was raised
Amisch,
but she gave it up to marry my father.”

“She must love him a great deal then.”

“She’s dead,” Priscilla said flatly, then added, “He’s not.”

Joseph’s beautiful eyes met hers and the question hung eerily in the balance between them:
Do you wish he was?
Priscilla wet her lips and turned her head to put the car into drive.
Well, do I? Lord knows it would make my life easier, given the way dear old Daddy urges Heath to . . .
She drew a deep breath, reminding herself that she had determined to try not to be poisoned by the past.

“I’m sorry,” she said briskly, glancing at Joseph.

He smiled a bit. “Families are complicated.”

“Is yours?” she asked, then could have bitten her tongue at expressing an interest in his personal life.

“Well—” He rubbed his strong chin in thought. “This past summer, my sister married an
Englischer
, but then he became part of our community. My
daed
wasn’t too thrilled with the wedding at first—neither was I, come to think of it. But my new
bruder
-in-law is a good man. His name’s Jude and my sister is Mary. I miss them . . .”

“But you’re here.”

“
Jah
. . . and so is Edward. That’s why I came—to look out for him.”

Priscilla caught the introspective look on his face and couldn’t resist asking him another question. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”

She glanced at him, surprised by the intensity of his gaze, but then she shrugged. “You don’t have to answer that. I’ve grown rather adept, out of necessity, at reading people, and the way you responded—I don’t know—made me think there’s more.”

He cleared his throat and looked sober. “There is . . . I guess.”

But Priscilla understood that the ensuing silence meant he had no desire to talk and concentrated instead on his quiet directions to the farm.

Joseph watched her small, competent hands on the wheel and wondered at her ability to read him so well when he barely understood himself at times. Certainly, he’d never tell anyone about his wayward nature and unholy desires—even the thoughts he’d already had about Priscilla would be enough to scare her.
And Gott knows she needs no more fear in her life ...

He assumed a jolly expression for Hollie’s sake as they pulled up beside a large, bright red barn. It was still early in the morning, but he knew farmers were up for long hours before others. They got out of the station wagon and he was surprised and touched when Hollie slipped her small hand into his palm and swung his arm back and forth.

“This is gonna be fun, right, Mommy?”

Joseph glanced at Priscilla and saw her reserve.
Probably she doesn’t want Hollie to get too close to any man after what happened with the father . . .

An elderly man in a straw hat and overalls came out of the barn and smiled widely at them, displaying a large gap between his front teeth. “Hi, y’all. Come for the petting zoo, have you? I’m Mr. Green. Ben Green.” He extended a hand over the fence and Joseph liked his firm grip.

“
Amisch
, are ya, sir? Not many around these parts.”

“I’m from Pennsylvania,” Joseph explained. “I work on the rigs.”

“So ya got some time off for the missus and young’un? Well, step right this way. The petting zoo’s been a success so far, but it was really my wife’s idea. She passed from the cancer almost six months ago now, but I keep it going in her memory, like.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Priscilla said before Joseph could get the words out, and he noticed Priscilla didn’t correct the man’s assumption that they were a family.

Ben Green waved a gnarled hand and pulled on the barn door. “Not a loss, surely. For I’ll go to her one day. So I pass the time with hope, and it makes things a mite easier.”

“Do you have a pony?” Hollie piped up.

“Three of ’em, honey. You can take yer pick at the end here on which to ride.”

“Yay!” She tugged on Joseph and he squeezed her hand gently in response.

They went through the barn happily, petting goats and sheep, looking with pleasure on a new lamb and its mother, and watching a variety of feathered-legged roosters parade past. Soon, Hollie broke away to walk with Mr. Green, and Joseph found himself near enough to Priscilla to catch her scent—something refreshing and delicate that sent his pulse racing and made him think of summer and sunshine and home . . .
You smell so good. I want to bury my face in your neck and touch your red hair and the creamy white skin of your throat and . . . Gott help me—I’ve never felt like this since—

“Joseph?”

He nearly jumped, confused and caught in the pleasure of the fantasy. He felt his face flush and was glad for the dim interior of the barn as he turned toward Priscilla’s voice.

“Did you farm in Pennsylvania? I always wanted to live on a farm.” She was leaning on a support fence, gazing at some nursing piglets, and he had to take a moment to regain his equilibrium.

“I—we, my
daed
and I, did a bit of everything . . . farming, maple syrup making . . . I especially like woodworking, but that all seems a long way off.”

She sighed aloud. “At least you had some freedom to choose. My father was—very controlling.”

“Did he expect you to be perfect?”

“You got it, and I was far from that. In fact, I—” She broke off when there was a sharp, piercing cry from the other end of the barn. “Hollie!”

Joseph reached the stall first, taking the situation in at a glance. A horse’s slashing hooves battered the barn wall and Hollie cried out again from inside the stall. Mr. Green was desperately trying to extract Hollie from the confined space and was doing so at his own peril. Joseph grabbed a bridle hanging nearby and got it around the horse’s neck and began to speak low to the animal. At the same time, he bent and stretched into the stall to catch hold of Hollie’s jacket. He pulled and the little girl ran out. At the same time, one last glancing kick by the horse caught him in the rib cage and he couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips. But then he got the horse settled and closed the stall door, turning to lean on it and breathing heavily.

“Lord have mercy,” Mr. Green panted. “Is the young’un all right? She got away from me and was into that stall in a flash. I should have known better. I’m sorry.”

Joseph felt his side dizzily and watched as Priscilla ran shaking hands over her daughter.

“I’m okay, Mommy. I’m sorry. I wanted to pet the horsie.” Hollie began to sob in the aftermath.

“It’s all right,” Priscilla soothed. “Joseph, are you okay?”

“Right as rain,” he managed, not wanting to make a big deal out of the pain that was making him blink.

“You don’t look it, young man,” Mr. Green said. He caught hold of Joseph’s arm and gave it a brisk tug. The move made Joseph’s world swim and he grasped the ridge of the stall door.

“Joseph,” Priscilla said in a sharp voice.

“I’m fine.” He straightened with a faint smile. “Everything’s fine.” He took a step forward and promptly collapsed to his knees.

Mr. Green caught his shoulder and Priscilla rushed to his side. “We are going to a hospital!” she cried.

“Sounds
gut
,” he gasped, then watched in fascination as the straw-strewn floor rose up to swallow him whole into blissful darkness.

 

 

“Shouldn’t we get him a balloon, Mommy?” Hollie whispered the question from where she perched on Priscilla’s lap. They were within the confines of a white, curtained emergency room unit, and Joseph lay asleep on a portable bed.

“No, honey, he has to rest.”

Priscilla drew a deep breath as she watched the even rise and fall of his bandaged ribs.
He risked his life to save my little girl . . .

The curtain was briskly drawn aside and a comfortable-looking nurse entered. She cast an eye over Joseph, then patted Priscilla’s shoulder.

“You can take him home, honey, as soon as he comes around. The doc gave him something for the pain when he set his ribs, and that’s making him sleepy. He’s lucky he didn’t puncture a lung. If you’ll sign these papers for him, I’ll find a Popsicle for this little one, and you can help him get his shirt on.”

Priscilla opened her mouth to protest, but the nurse had already left the papers on a nearby tray and whisked Hollie outside the curtain. Priscilla rose, biting her lip, and approached the makeshift bed. His body was so big, so . . . male, and she felt guilty at the sensation of pleasure that skimmed the back of her brain as she ran her fingers gently along his bare forearm. He stirred, the heavy fall of his dark lashes lifting a bit at her touch.

She was surprised when she touched his shoulder that he murmured and seemed to want to get closer to her hand, arching his neck and half sighing. She glanced at the curtain, then allowed herself to brush the backs of her fingertips over the brown male nipple nearest her and caught her breath at his reaction. Seemingly unhindered by his injuries, he lifted his arm and slipped it behind her, pulling her inexorably, intimately close, so that her mouth hovered a bare inch from his. She wanted to struggle but wouldn’t risk hurting his ribs further, so she waited a moment, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. She stared down at him and thought about how kind he’d been to her and Hollie.
He’s so good and innocent . . . how could he ever understand?

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes still closed. “But I can’t—not if you knew.”

“Knew what?” she whispered, amazed at how her toes tingled at the intermingling of their breath.

“Everything,” he slurred.

“I think I know enough,” she was amazed to hear herself say, then dipped her head so that her mouth touched his.

He made a strangled sound in his throat; half protest, half want, and then she lost track of who was kissing whom as he lifted his head and she tangled her hands in his dark hair.