Destiny Calls (15 page)

Her soft eyes were painted in a way that made them appear larger than usual, and her hair was no longer curly, but straight and soft. Short dark locks swept across her smooth skin just above the thin arch of her brows while the rest draped delicately over her creamy exposed shoulder.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he bent to right her clothing so that her shoulder was no longer visible. Standing, he pushed aside the familiar concern for her and stood. The bishop was watching him with a too-knowing look.
Arrogant know-it-all.

Cain said nothing. It was none of his business. He stood defensively, prepared to tell him just that, but sensed a sort of sympathetic understanding coming from the other man. It was uncomfortable and unexpected and all too close to the feeling of being pitied.

Rather than admit he had feelings for the mortal female, he coldly asked, “Where are we going to dump her?”

Eleazar raised his eyebrows at Cain’s unfeeling words, and Larissa gasped. Cain silently cursed. He hadn’t seen his sister standing there.

“We will not be dumping anyone just yet, I think.”

It wasn’t until that moment that Cain noticed the large man slumped in a chair. He looked sort of like Destiny, Cain supposed, but lacked her softness, her beauty, that hidden part of her that screamed feminine gentleness. He turned to the bishop. “What is it you plan to do with them, then?”

“You are going to take them to your house. With your mother and father both away from the farm, there is plenty of room there. We shall allow them to stay until I’m able to speak with the council and sort this entire mess out.”

“You plan to let them stay?”

“Temporarily, as long as they do not cause any trouble. You, Cain, will be on your best behavior. I will ask Gracie to keep an eye on the big one and require her to inform me right away if she picks up on any suspicious thoughts that concern The Order. As far as the two of them are concerned, we are just simple Amish farmers. And let me make this clear to both of you,” the bishop said, giving him and his sister a stern look. “Neither is staying.”

Larissa preened, and Eleazar pressed his lips together. Quietly, he mumbled, “And you will
not
be in this male’s presence without me. Understood?” She nodded.

Cain bent and slid his hands under Destiny’s limp body and lifted her small form into his arms. “How are we explaining their stay to them? When they wake they’ll want to know why they’re here and suddenly expected to stay.”

“Rather than remove any more memories, I will plant one in each of their minds. They will believe they were received with kindness and invited to stay, which they each agreed to do for a time. The girl will remember you as the man who rescued her and the man won’t recall your sister beyond meeting her on this farm today.” He let out a tired sigh. “I expect you to be back here tonight for the meeting, Cain. We have issues regarding your uncle to discuss. I believe you’re right. We can no longer ignore his existence and the threat he poses. It is time to put an end to him once and for all before another complication arrives at our doorstep.”

“Agreed. Now, if you will excuse me?”

“What about the male?” Eleazar asked.

“Not my issue, Bishop.”

Chapter 12

Cain laid Destiny carefully on his bed and waited for her to slowly come out of the bishop’s hold. She really was quite lovely when she wasn’t being pushy and infringing on others’ privacy. He had never held a woman who was so soft and so feminine in every curve.

Cain couldn’t understand why so many of the English females seemed to value bodies built of sharp angles and cutting hip bones. While in such women’s company, their hunger and guilt often beat at him. He liked that Destiny allowed her female form to bloom and flourish the way God had intended it.

She sighed and turned her face into his pillow. He watched her with open curiosity. Did she dream? From what he understood, mortals dreamed regularly about anything and everything. Their dreams held no life-altering meaning, but still impressed him all the same.

He looked over her body and smirked when he spotted her silly boots peeking out beneath her soft pants. So that she wouldn’t be uncomfortable, he slid the abominations off of her feet. They were like long knit socks with hard soles. He had never seen such a thing before. Beneath the boots, he found two tiny feet without socks. Her toes were chubby and short, curling ever so slightly. They were adorable.

He touched the soft arch of her bare foot, and she reflexively pulled it away and moaned in her sleep. Was she ticklish? He trailed the back of his knuckle over her foot again, only this time she awoke with a gasp. Cain immediately sat up straight and felt ridiculous for having touched her.

“You!”

“Hello, Destiny. Did you have a nice rest?”

“Where am I? Are we back at the convent?”

“Not a convent.” He shook his head. “I don’t know where that whole notion came from. This is my farm. You came here and were invited to stay for a bit, remember?”

She frowned, a small crinkle knitting in her brow just beneath the light dusting of hair that hung there. “Where’s Vito?”

“Your brother’s in the next room. My sisters are caring for him.”

“Your sisters?”

“Yes, Grace and the nun who was getting it on with the bishop.” He laughed, but could tell she was still too confused to find humor in the situation. “Destiny, I know you’re confused. I’m the man who rescued you. I also took you home. You’re safe here.”

“Officer
Aesel
.” She nodded as if she understood, and Cain scowled.

“My name is Cain Hartzler,” he grumbled. “Our bishop was only having a little fun when he told you that was my name.”

“Why would he lie about your name?”

“Because we have a special kind of relationship, the bishop and I,” Cain said dryly.

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed. “
Aesel
is Dutch for jackass.” He scowled as a small hiccup of laughter caused her shoulders to twitch. “Nevertheless, you and your brother, Vito, have been invited to stay on the farm for a few days.”

“Why?”

Cain groaned. Eleazar really underestimated mortals’ intelligence and this specific mortal’s affinity for questions. Cain was going to be pulling explanations out of his rear for days. “Because you want to and so does your brother.”

“Oh.” Luckily, the bishop at least compelled her to believe that being here was her choice. Experience told him that Destiny Santos did nothing unless it was her choice.

“Have you ever been on an Amish farm before?” he asked, hoping to distract her from her confusion. She shook her head. “Well, come along then. I shall show you around. You’ll see how our women behave, and our females will gawk at your Americanized clothing and uncovered hair. You aren’t easily intimidated, are you?”

She shrunk into herself, and he laughed, patting her leg. “I am just fooling. Everyone will be kind. Do not fear. Come.”

* * * *

Destiny followed the tall, sexy Amish man out of the room and wondered what kind of twilight zone she had landed in. She took a quick appraisal of the house and found nothing that told her this was a trick. Everything appeared quite, well, Amish.

The bare wood floors were secured with wooden peg-like nails. Walls were mostly bare, aside from calendars and tapestries that were somehow made useful and adorned with pockets and such. All the furniture was original and made of wood. Obvious time and effort went into every item, from the quilts upon the beds to the braided rugs in the halls. The house smelled of burning wood, and practically every room had either a woodstove or working fireplace.

“Your brother should be with my other sister, Grace.”

They passed a stairway leading to the second floor of the house and then entered a large kitchen. Destiny let out a huge sigh of relief when she spotted her brother sitting at the table eating a slice of pie.

“Hey, D. Isn’t this great?” he said over a mouthful of mixed berries. “Here, taste this. Best pie I’ve ever had. Gracie made it. Did you meet Gracie yet?”

Destiny shook her head, and a small young woman wearing a blue gown, a black apron sprinkled in flour, and a black bonnet brushed her palms on her already soiled clothing and smiled. “Hi, Destiny. We met when you were recovering. You may not remember. Would you like a slice of pie?”

“No, thank you,” Destiny said, a little overwhelmed.

“Seriously, D, try the pie,” Vito said as he groaned and shoveled another bite in his mouth. “I asked little Grace here to marry me after the first bite, but apparently they’re not allowed to date outside of their order. I’m gonna see if I can convince her to run away with me though. What do ya think, Gracie?”

The girl blushed and giggled. “I think you have quite the imagination, Bartholomew.”

Destiny jerked when the girl call Vito by his first name. From the moment he could talk, he demanded everyone call him Vito and usually became furious when people used his birth name. “You are letting her call you Bartholomew?”

He shut his eyes and sighed over another bite, shaking his head. “You didn’t taste her pie. She can call me whatever she wants so long as she doesn’t call me late for dinner.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Gracie said, placing a tall glass of milk in front of Vito and patting his shoulder. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a piece, Destiny? Cain?”

“No, thank you,” they both answered in unison.

Just then the front door opened and an older teenage boy, still in that awkward stage of growing where his weight hadn’t quite caught up with his height, came in holding a young girl’s hand. Destiny couldn’t help but smirk at the adorable picture the two of them made in their Amish garb complete with child-sized bonnet and hat.

The boy immediately looked to where Gracie’s hand rested on Vito’s shoulder and scowled. The little girl looked at Destiny and also scowled. Okay, touchy Amish children, she amended.

“Who’s this?” the boy demanded, and Destiny noticed his accent wasn’t quite the same as the others’.

Gracie’s eyes narrowed at the boy as if they shared some unspoken secret. “This is Vito and his sister, Destiny. They will be staying with us for a few days. Destiny, Vito, this is Dane and his younger sister, Cybil.”

The little girl released her brother’s hand and walked over to Cain. Destiny wasn’t sure if she was imagining things, but she was pretty sure the deceptively cute little girl shot her the stink eye just before slipping her small hand into Cain’s much larger one.

“Staying here? As in here in this house?” the boy asked, puffing up his chest.

“That’s right,” Gracie answered.

The boys lips firmed as a dash of red touched his cheeks. “But Jonas and Abilene are away.”

“Yes. And I’m twenty-two, and Cain is thirty-eight. I believe we are well past the ages of needing a chaperone.”

The boy’s nostrils flared as he stared hard at Gracie. By his stiff reception of this news, Destiny would guess that Dane fancied the young girl who in truth was not all that young. She turned and looked at Cain. She had spent a decent amount of time viewing men. For thirty-eight, he was in excellent shape.

“I was going to take Destiny for a walk around the farm. Anyone care to join us?” Cain asked and looked down at the little girl. “Cybil?”

The girl removed her hand from Cain’s and moved her fingers quickly. Destiny soon realized the girl was speaking sign language and must be deaf. Cain looked up at the others. Dane huffed and said, “She wants to know when they’re leaving.”

“Dane!” Gracie scolded.

“Hey, I’m just translating,” he defended.

“Well, there are nicer ways to say that.”

“But she didn’t ask nicely. I was only translating what she said.” The two of them again stared challengingly at each other as if they were speaking with their eyes. Gracie suddenly huffed and turned.

“If you all will excuse me,” she said, leaving the room. The boy’s jaw ticked, and then he followed Gracie out of the kitchen.

* * * *

Dane marched after Grace, and as soon as they reached the den, she turned on him.

Stop following me!
She scowled, her pretty blue eyes fierce.

He didn’t want her in his head at the moment. She was too innocent to understand what men thought of women like her. Although she was older than him, he had more experience with the real world. These people weren’t from around here, and Gracie wouldn’t know how to protect herself in an uncomfortable situation if she was placed in one.

“They shouldn’t be here,” he snapped.

“And why not? They have as much right to be here as you do,” she snapped in a hissed whisper right back at him. Her color was high on her cheeks, and her soft pink lip wore the mark of her teeth. She always nibbled it when she was frustrated.

“I live here.”

“Not in this house, you don’t. And even so, your time on this farm is as temporary as the ducks at the pond. Go migrate somewhere else.”