An Amish Man of Ice Mountain (The Amish of Ice Mountain Series Book 2) (6 page)

Chapter Ten

Priscilla gazed with deep appreciation on the rolling mountains of Northern Pennsylvania, full of the myriad greens of late spring.

“Not much further now,” Joseph said encouragingly.

She could tell there was a tense excitement about his big body.
He must have missed home a great deal.
And then a pressing thought came to her with insidious power.
Perhaps he’s missing his betrothed or even his wife. But he kissed me. Yet he didn’t know what he was doing.
She forced her tired mind to focus on the mountainous road and resolved not to become any more emotionally involved with the handsome
Amischer.

Hollie chattered happy questions from the backseat, which Joseph seemed to answer with seemingly endless patience.

“What’s wrong? Do you need to stop and stretch your legs?” Joseph asked, leaning over a bit in the seat, so that she caught his scent.

“Nooo . . . I’ll be glad to get there. I guess I was wondering—what your girlfriend or wife might think about us arriving together.” Priscilla felt her face flame even as she spoke the unbidden words and was surprised when Joseph’s face took on an ashen hue.

“I’m not married. I don’t have a betrothed. That’s not—it’s not the life for me.”

“Oh.” Priscilla felt worse for some strange reason. There was something about the way he spoke that seemed mournful.
Maybe he lost a girl to sickness . . .

“So, you don’t have a wife, Joseph?” Hollie asked, breaking the moment.

“Nope, little one.”

“That’s good,” she gurgled. “Then you can marry me when I grow up.”

Joseph laughed, and Priscilla was relieved to see his good humor restored. “Now that will be a blessed man who marries you,
kind
. . . Turn off to the left up here.”

Priscilla did as he directed and found her heart beginning to pound hard in her chest, though there was nothing alarming about the neat white house bordered by spreading myrtle with purple flowers, which climbed the outside wall of the large adjacent garage.

“Mr. Ellis lives here,” Joseph confirmed, opening the door and getting out.

Priscilla sat still behind the wheel, uncertain what to do. She caught Hollie’s hand in a gentle grip when the child would have followed Joseph.

“No, honey. Wait.”

“Aww, but Mommy!”

“Wait,” she said again firmly.

She watched a pleasant-looking, middle-aged
Englisch
man with a mustache come out onto the porch and saw Joseph speaking and gesturing back to the car. Mr. Ellis appeared to take the situation in stride as he made his way down the front steps and Joseph hurried over to the driver’s door to open it.

“Kumme,”
he said gently. “It’s all right.”

“Yay!” Hollie tore out of the car and Priscilla suppressed a mental groan.

But Mr. Ellis proved equal to the child, who was jumping about him like a rambunctious puppy, and the older man gave a hearty laugh as he shook Priscilla’s hand.

“Quite a handful you’ve got here, ma’am.”

“Yes, at times.”

“Well, good times I’m sure. Joseph here explained that you need your car kept for a bit. I’ll put it in the garage.” He glanced at Joseph. “It wasn’t too long ago that I was housing an Expedition in there for your brother-in-law.”

Priscilla saw Joseph’s grin as he spoke. “A more humble vehicle here, Mr. Ellis.”

“Yep. Well, if you’ll give me the keys, I’ll drive her in.”

Priscilla paused before handing over the key-chain with its brass diver’s helmet on it—a token of a long-ago vacation to the sea. She colored, then lifted her chin. “I’m afraid I’ve very little money to give you, Mr. Ellis. How much do you need for keeping the car?”

Mr. Ellis looked to Joseph, then shook his head with a kind smile. “It’s all taken care of, young lady. No worries.”

Priscilla turned to Joseph. “I can’t let you . . .” she began, then stopped at his reassuring smile. “Oh, all right. But it’s a loan.” She gave Mr. Ellis the keys.

“Deal,” Joseph said.

She watched the two men shake hands; then Joseph gestured over to where the road curved into a shadowed hollow. She watched him take Hollie’s hand with a casual ease that seemed to calm her daughter. Then he gestured with his strong chin. “This way, ladies.”

Priscilla nodded to Mr. Ellis and followed Joseph and Hollie into the greenery, discovering an earthen path, and feeling that her life was about to change forever.

 

 

Joseph pushed through the overhang of leafy branches and stopped still as he felt the familiar cool rush of a secret breeze soothe his heart and mind.

“Joseph,” Hollie whispered beside him. “It’s cold here all of a sudden. How come?”

He smiled down at the child. “It’s a mystery,
kind
. Would you like to see more?” He glanced over his shoulder at Priscilla and thought how right her bright hair and pale skin looked among the chill green.
She’s like some exotic wild flower touched by the sun . . .

He turned back, catching hold of his thoughts, then led them to the place a few feet away where the unusual, bright green ferns grew at the base of an outcropping of rock.

He let Hollie tiptoe near the jutting rock and heard her small exclamation of surprise and awe. “Joseph, there’s a door here. Where does it go to? Is it a fairy house? Mommy doesn’t believe in fairy tales, but I think that they might be true. Can we go in? Can we?”

“Wait, little one. Let’s show your
mamm
.” He stepped aside for Priscilla to peer into the alcove of the stacked rock.

“It is a door,” she said in disbelief.

Joseph reached into a high crevice and found the hammer he knew was hidden there. “Well, a boarded-up sort of door. I can open it, if you’d both like?”

“Please, Mommy?” Hollie begged.

“What is this place?” Priscilla asked, and Joseph was pleased to see the mystified look on her delicate features.

This place
. . . was something he understood with clarity even when the rest of his life was a jumble of confusion. He knew true pleasure in removing the planks of gray wood from the entrance, almost as if he was revealing a part of himself that he believed worthwhile.

“It’s a natural ice mine,” he said as he pulled the last board, heedless of the ache in his ribs, and laid it aside. He caught Hollie’s hand before she could plunge into the black opening revealed by the wood. “Whoa! Let me get the light.”

“There’s a light?” Priscilla asked, doubt evident in her voice.

“Yep. Hold the little one’s hand. It’ll only take me a second and . . .” He reached inside the looming blackness and felt for the kerosene lantern and matches. He fumbled with the lantern for a moment; then the flame burned bright and he swung it into the darkness.

“Mommy! Look—it’s all sparkly. It is a fairy house, made of ice!”

Joseph watched Priscilla, wanting her to feel his joy in the place, but instead he saw her cross her arms protectively and shiver visibly in the blast of cold air from the mine. He turned back to the entrance and shrugged to himself.
Well, it’s not like I believe in fairy tales either . . .

Chapter Eleven

Priscilla stepped cautiously onto the ice mine’s dirt floor, skirting the large, deep hole near the center of the cave. She allowed her gaze to follow where the play of the lantern light caught on the giant icicles that formed the walls of the mine.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice seeming to echo in the chilly dampness. “It’s spring. This all should be melting, right?” She glanced over to see Joseph wearing a bright smile that took her breath away almost as much as the cold did.

“You would think that, but actually, the ice is at its fullest in high summer, and this place is bone dry in winter. Scientists have actually come and tried to explain why it happens, but I guess I look at it as an example of Gott’s providing when it’s needed most.”

She didn’t answer, not wanting to offend him with her doubts about God’s presence here.
After all, if He never took care of me, why would He care about a cave filled with ice, no matter how pretty it is?

“What’s the big hole in the floor, Joseph?” Hollie asked, and Priscilla could tell that her daughter was in awe of the place.

“Different people have tried to dig over time, down into the ground. They looked for silver, but all they ever found were some old bones and plants frozen in ice.”

“I want to dig . . . Can we dig, Joseph?” Hollie jumped and Priscilla caught her close, away from the edge.

“
Nee
, little one. The mine is not my people’s. It belongs to someone who lives far away, so we
Amisch
sort of watch over it. I don’t think digging would be the right thing to do. But now, up on the mountain, you can dig as much as you want. Maybe your
mamm
will want to start a garden.”

Priscilla shook her head. She had no idea how long they’d even be staying, yet here he was, speaking so casually about something as lasting as a garden. She opened her mouth to protest, not wanting Hollie to get her hopes up, but Joseph held up a large hand in the play of lantern light.

“Priscilla, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken about a garden. I was thinking and . . . well, I apologize.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, ignoring Hollie’s groan and focusing once more on how quickly and easily he sought to make things right by admitting when he was wrong. It was a trait in a man that she’d never seen in everyday life.

“Well, we’d best head up the mountain. If you’ll both step outside, I’ll put the boards back up.”

She watched him hold the lantern up with his left hand and she hurried Hollie out, blinking in the bright light of day. Joseph was quick with the wood, despite his injury, and Priscilla struggled to think of something to say, but she didn’t want to plague him with questions.

Soon they were climbing the earthen track and Priscilla watched as mountain laurel gave way to bright shrubbery, then blueberry bushes, and finally a stand of tall pines. They stepped into a large meadow and she caught her breath, feeling winded not only from the climb but also struggling with a sudden bout of anxiety. The wide spread of grass and wildflowers seemed to question her very presence, as if each blade whispered to a leaf, wondering who she was, and she could not help but think that the
Amisch
themselves would probably do the very same thing.

 

 

“Who is she again?” Bishop Umble asked between large bites of thick oatmeal.

Joseph sighed and glanced through the kitchen window out onto the porch where Frau Umble was serving cookies and lemonade to Priscilla and Hollie.

Joseph turned back to the
auld
man who’d been the bishop on Ice Mountain since before Joseph was born.
Maybe he’s getting hard of hearing . . .

“Have you read ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner,’ Joseph?”

And losing his train of thought as well as the hearing
. . . “
Jah
. . . the sailor tells his tale over and over and the bird and—”

Bishop Umble stopped him with a raised, gnarled hand. “Right. Right. But my point is that sometimes a person needs to tell his story more than once to find what he’s looking for in it. So tell me again, who she is . . . and what is it that you look for, young man?”

Joseph’s head throbbed faintly and his ribs hurt. He wished he’d had the foresight to take one of his pain pills before this meeting with the bishop; the man wanted him to think, and he would rather have been sleeping at the moment. But he hung on to the thread of meaning and tried again.

“I’m not looking for a wife.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop, and he wondered if the pain was making him strange.

“Hmm. I asked what you looked for,
buwe
, not the opposite. Though sometimes it’s easier to start in the other direction.”

Joseph leaned his head in his hand for a moment. An image came to him and he lifted his head to look into the wise blue eyes opposite him. “Once, when I was about five, I was outside alone in the dead of winter. I put out my tongue to touch the metal runner of my little sled and I was caught, mercilessly. I, by my own doing, had to rip my mouth away in order to free myself. I went in the
haus
bleeding all over . . .”
Now why
en der weldt
did I think of that?

“And?” the bishop prompted quietly.

“And . . . it hurt. I think—I think that’s what Priscilla’s had to do in her own life—rip herself away from everything familiar because she had no choice; she had to free herself—was forced into it even. I’m looking for sanctuary for her, sir. A place to bleed and heal . . . and for the child too.”

“Then it will be Derr Herr who brings her that healing. Not you, Joseph King.”

“I know that.”

The bishop scraped his oatmeal bowl while Joseph held his breath.

“Well,” the older man said finally, “I must speak to the elders of course, but as for me . . . I give my permission for Priscilla and Hollie Allen to stay. At your sister’s
haus
. If she will have them . . . if her husband will have them.”

“
Danki
, sir.” Joseph felt a surge of relief, though he was disconcerted at the idea of Priscilla being so close, if Mary would have her. He’d thought maybe one of the widows would . . .

“Joseph?”

“Jah, sir?”

“Pray for Priscilla as she discovers her healing. But I’d like you to keep your intentions in regard to her holy. Remember, a prayer partner. But who knows, Derr Herr might find her a fine
Amisch
suitor as well in the process. Now, let’s go and talk with her.”

“Jah . . .”
Joseph muttered, suddenly terrified at the idea of being a prayer partner in Priscilla’s life.
A prayer partner—a man with a woman? What is wrong with the bishop’s head? And where did the idea of a suitor
kumme
from?
But he had no time to consider further as Bishop Umble opened the front door and the sun caught the bright fall of Priscilla’s hair, making him forget all else.

 

 

Priscilla gazed with pleasure around the simple living area with its pale blue paint and odd but beautiful drawing of a mermaid on the wall. Her hostess, Joseph’s younger sister, Mary Lyons, stepped lightly into the room despite the rounded curve of her abdomen. The girl was truly beautiful and Priscilla wondered idly if all of Joseph’s family were so gifted with good looks.

“There,” Mary said, moving to press against Joseph’s side once more. She clearly loved and had missed her brother, and Joseph returned the affection openly. “Your daughter’s playing with little apple-pie pans and some leftover dough at the kitchen table. Jude should be home any minute. He’s the local school teacher.
Ach
, please sit down.”

Mary gestured to the comfortable-looking couch, then took a place near Priscilla while Joseph eased into a rocking chair beside the open fireplace.

“When are you due?” Priscilla asked softly, casting about for something to say in the sudden quiet of the room.

Mary smiled brightly. “About another two months. Then Joseph here will be
Oom
Joseph. I only wish Edward might
kumme
home soon too.” Priscilla watched the siblings exchange glances and wondered what it must be like to have grown up with brothers or a sister.
It might have made a difference in my life, yet Hollie will be an only child too, and . . .

She looked up to find Joseph’s beautiful eyes looking over at her, and she flushed at her thoughts
. The way I was kissing him in the ER, he probably thinks I’m looking for another man. Not that Heath was ever a true man, not one of honor or decency or hope.

Mary laid a cool hand over the fingers Priscilla clenched tightly together in her lap.

“Priscilla, don’t be anxious. I know Jude will agree with the bishop. We will be so glad to welcome you into our home, both you and Hollie.”

Priscilla swallowed and wet her lips. “
Danki
, but you all will want to be alone soon with the baby and I don’t even know how long we’ll stay and—”

“And,” Joseph rumbled gently, “stop worrying. You’ll stay here if Jude agrees, which I think he will do too. Let tomorrow’s worries take care of themselves.”

The front door eased open as Joseph finished speaking and Priscilla looked up with some anxiety at the tall, broad-shouldered man who entered. But she realized she needn’t have worried when Mary ran to meet him and he caught her close, then moved to pull Joseph into a back-slapping hug.

“You must be Priscilla.” He turned to her and held out an easy hand.

She shook hands, noticing he spoke with a different accent from his wife and brother-in-law. He must have read her thoughts because he grinned.

“I’m from Atlanta originally. These
Amisch
were
gut
enough to have mercy on me and take me in.”

“Like me?” Priscilla bit her lip, regretting her quick words. But Jude shrugged with good humor.

“If you’ll have us all, yes,” Jude said.

Priscilla’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, I’m sorry. Of course, I’ll have you. Thank you so much.”

Joseph cleared his throat. “Where’s Bear, by the way?”

“You have a bear?” Priscilla asked in surprise and not a little dismay.

Jude laughed. “Something like that. He’s at your dat’s. Abner’s been a bit lonesome, it seems. It’s
gut
you’re back, Joe.”

Priscilla saw the concern in Joseph’s face.

“I’d better go see him then.” He glanced at Priscilla. “Tell Hollie I said good-bye.”

“Oh—are you—I mean. Will I see you soon?” She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt as if her lifeline was about to leave.

Joseph paused for a moment, his hand on the door latch. “
Jah
, soon. I forgot to tell you, the bishop made me your prayer partner.”

Something tight and harsh seemed to mask his face and she stared at him in consternation
. Maybe he wants to have nothing to do with me now that he feels he’s done his duty or something . . .
“Oh, okay.”

He nodded and slipped out of the door, leaving Priscilla to lay her worries aside and be warmly welcomed into her new home.