Finding the Way (The Amish Millers Get Married Book 5) (6 page)

Sarah’s cheeks were warm with embarrassment.
She dutifully took the lamp from Mr. Miller and walked outside with
Benjamin.

Sarah wondered how long she could continue to
give her heart to Benjamin without some sign that he loved her
back. As she looked at him now, standing in the dusk, the twilight
casting playful shadows around his face, Sarah felt the weight of
heartache brought on by years of loving someone with no
response.

Sarah waited for Benjamin to open the little
gate to the herb and vegetable garden, and then walked though,
before turning to Benjamin. She expelled a long breath before
speaking. “Benjamin, I’m sorry I believed Nash over you. Actually,
it was all such a shock; I wasn’t thinking straight. Will you
forgive me?”

Benjamin’s face lit up. “Of course I forgive
you; there’s nothing to forgive.”

Sarah, delighted by Benjamin’s words, was not
paying attention to what she was doing as she bent to pluck some
peppermint leaves, still smiling to herself. “Ouch!” she exclaimed,
as her hand closed hard around a plant. “I think that was
nettle!”

Benjamin bent over her. “Not nettle, surely?
What would nettle be doing in a herb garden?”

“Mrs. Miller grows nettle for rinsing hair,
as well as for nettle tea.”

“Oh yes, of course, nettle tea.” Benjamin
held up the lamp to inspect her hand. “Show me; where does it
hurt?”

“This finger mainly.”

Benjamin held the finger to his mouth and
gently kissed it.

Sarah stood there with her mouth hanging
open.
He does like me after all
, she thought, somewhat
shocked. Sarah soon revised her opinion, or at least had cause to
doubt it, when Benjamin pulled away suddenly, dropping her finger
like a hot potato.

“You should go back to the
haus
and
put something on that,” he said.

“Oh, it’s just a little sting,” Sarah said,
embarrassed by what had just happened. “I’ll put some burdock on
it. That always works.” Sarah took the lamp from Benjamin and
looked around for the broad leaves that identified the burdock
plant. Finding one, she plucked a leaf, crushed it between her
fingers, and rubbed it into her hand. The stinging eased almost at
once.

“Let’s go back to the
haus
,” Benjamin
said again.

Sarah did not understand. Why had Benjamin
pulled away suddenly? Was he ashamed that he had kissed her hand?
He was certainly acting like it.

The two returned to the
haus
. “Where
is the peppermint?” Mrs. Miller demanded.

“We didn’t get it.” Sarah’s face turned
hot.

Everyone stopped talking and turned to look
at them, and Sarah was mortified as to what they must all be
thinking. “I hurt my hand on a stinging nettle,” Sarah said, “and
then I put some burdock on it. With all that, we forgot all about
the peppermint.”

“I’ll go get it now.” Benjamin hurried
outside.

When Benjamin returned with the mint, the
meal progressed happily, yet although there was happy conversation
over dessert, Sarah and Benjamin remained silent.

“Sarah, would you help me in the kitchen? The
two of us can manage; the rest of you all stay out here and talk.”
Martha’s tone was firm, and even her
mudder
and
schweschders
did not rise to help.

Sarah and Martha cleared the plates. When
they were alone in the kitchen, Martha pulled out a wooden chair
and said to Sarah, “Sit down; we have to talk. What happened
between you and Benjamin?” Martha and Sarah had become
gut
friends some time ago, after meeting when both were on
rumspringa
, but Sarah hadn’t seen much of Martha after she
married Moses. Still, their friendship remained strong.

Sarah put her head in her hands. “Oh it was
so awful, so embarrassing.”

Martha sat down next to Sarah. “What
happened?”

“Well, you know how you keep telling me that
Benjamin really does like me?”

Martha smiled. “
Jah
, but I’ve never
managed to convince you.”

Sarah nodded. “Well, I thought you were right
tonight, but then I changed my mind again.”

Martha appeared to be growing impatient.
“Sarah, please just tell me what happened.”

“Well, when we went to gather peppermint, I
accidentally put my hand around some nettle.”

“Ouch.”

Sarah nodded. “For sure. Anyway, Benjamin
kissed my hand.”

“He what?” Martha all but smirked, and then
put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, go on! Benjamin actually
kissed your hand? What happened next?”

“He kissed my hand, but then he suddenly
dropped it and acted a bit odd, and then said we should go back to
the
haus
.”

Martha smiled triumphantly. “He really likes
you,” she said. “That’s proof.”

Sarah was puzzled. “What, it’s proof that he
likes me? I thought it was proof that he doesn’t. I don’t
understand.”

“An Amish
mann
doesn’t kiss a girl’s
hand if he doesn’t like her, silly.” Martha rolled her eyes.

“But why did he suddenly drop my hand?’

Martha sighed loudly, “Because he likes you.
Oh Sarah, really, you have no idea about
menner
.”

Sarah had to admit that Martha was right
about her having no idea about
menner
. But was Martha right
about Benjamin? Did he really like her? And if he did, why hadn’t
he asked her on a buggy ride yet? She did not have the answers.

John 15:9-13.

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved
you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide
in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide
in his love.

Chapter
12

Nash was waiting for Jessie by their usual
place, down by the ruins of the old, stone cottage. She had not
been there the last two mornings in a row; he hoped it would be
third time lucky.

When Jessie did appear, a faint wave of
nausea washed over Nash. Jessie affected him like no other woman
ever had. He had missed her dreadfully the last few days, and he
realized that she had done her best to avoid him. He wondered if it
was too late for them. Had he already pushed her away before he
even had a chance?

Nash stood and looked over the rolling
fields. He was beginning to appreciate the countryside, and the
more relaxed lifestyle, and now was not missing the city so much.
Yet there was no rest from the questions that kept assaulting his
mind. Had Jessie been right? Did he have a sense of entitlement?
Was he really a spoiled brat? He had been aware that his mother had
often cried about him, and that had made him feel bad, but now the
first real pangs of remorse were filtering through to him.

Nash turned around and saw Jessie
approaching. She wasn’t smiling at him, but then, she wasn’t a
smiling sort of person.
She is here, and that must be a good
sign
, he thought.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” he said by way
of greeting.

“I didn’t know if I would, either,” said
Jessie with her characteristic frankness.

“Why did you then?” Nash realized that his
voice had sounded sulky; he hadn’t meant it to be.

Jessie shrugged and pouted. “Dunno.”

Nash stood, looking at his feet, and moving
from one foot to another. After an uncomfortable silence, he
decided to speak.
It’s now or never
, he thought. “Jessie,
would you come to dinner with me?”

Jessie appeared to be quite taken aback.
“What, like on a date?” Her voice rose to a high pitch.

“Yes, I suppose so,”

“You said dinner?”

Nash crossed his arms. “Have you gone
deaf?”

When Jessie glared at him, he hurried to
continue. “Well, I can’t ask you on a buggy ride, can I, seeing
that I don’t have one. Unless we took your buggy, I suppose.”

Jessie shook her head. “
Nee
, we can’t
take
my
buggy. That wouldn’t be right.”

Nash was at first irritated, but then he
realized that Jessie had not rejected him outright.

“Well, how about it?”

Jessie narrowed her eyes. “That’s not the
nicest invitation to a date I’ve ever had.”

Nash laughed. “How many invitations to dates
have you had?”

Jessie shrugged. “None.”

Nash was nervous, and Jessie’s behavior was
not helping. She was just standing there looking at him, and as yet
had not accepted or rejected his invitation. His stomach was
churning and all tied up in knots. Jessie was standing directly in
front of him, and her proximity was adding to his nervousness. She
smelled heavenly, like vanilla and roses. He gave it one more shot.
“Jessie Yoder, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to
dinner?” he said with a flourish and a bow.

Jessie laughed. “Okay, why not?”

Nash’s heart leaped, and without thinking, he
pulled Jessie to him and planted a kiss on her warm lips.

At first Jessie did not resist, but then she
pulled away and slapped Nash across the face.

Nash rubbed his smarting cheek. “
Aww
!
What did you do that for?”

“I’m not an
Englischer
girl. You just
can’t kiss me.”

Is she kidding?
Nash thought. “You
kissed me back,” he pointed out.

“Did not!”

Nash was on the point of saying
Did
too
, when he realized how childish that would sound. Why didn’t
Jessie let him kiss her? Perhaps she liked Benjamin after all; she
had seemed quite keen to kiss him.

“You like Benjamin, don’t you?” Nash meant it
as a simple question, but it came out as an accusation. Until his
words were out, Nash had not admitted to himself just how jealous
he had been of Benjamin, just how deep his feelings were for
Jessie. From out of nowhere, the Scripture from Matthew 12:34
popped into his mind:
For out of the abundance of the heart the
mouth speaketh
. Nash hadn’t realized until now that the
Scripture meant that people would speak out what really came from
deep inside them.

Jessie simply snorted rudely. “Typical! So
typical of a
mann
to think that if a girl won’t kiss him it
must be because there is someone else.”

“Well, is there?”

Jessie rolled her eyes, and stormed off.

Nash was confused by Jessie. One thing he was
not confused about, was that he had made the decision to return to
the community. He supposed there were good and bad people amongst
the Amish just as there were good and bad people amongst the
Englischers
. He would just be one of the not so good people
amongst the Amish.
We can’t all be goody two shoes like that
Benjamin Shetler
, he thought.

Romans 8:1-2.

There is therefore now no condemnation for
those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life
has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.

Chapter
13

Nash was nervous when Bishop William Graber
opened the door to let him inside, despite the fact that the bishop
looked like an
Englischer’s
idea of Santa Claus, with his
long, gray beard, round face with red cheeks, and large, blue
eyes.

Mrs. Graber hurried over to welcome Nash.
“
Hiya
, Nash. You look hungry as always. I’ve made some
special sandwiches for you, cucumber and peanut butter, raw liver
and nettle, and bacon with chocolate cream. I must get back to my
baking. Don’t worry; I won’t be able to overhear a word you say, so
you can speak in complete confidence.”

The bishop appeared to be amused. “My
fraa
tells me you enjoy her cooking.”

“Yes I do,” Nash said, truthfully.
I
wouldn’t pay for it, but it’s free
, he thought.

“Perhaps we should take the sandwiches out to
the porch.”

Nash was relieved that the bishop said that.
No matter what Mrs. Graber had said, he was sure she would be able
to hear from the kitchen, and he didn’t want what he had to say
spread all over town.

Light rain was starting to fall. Nash watched
it for a moment, and then was glad he had a car and wouldn’t be
driving home in the rain in a buggy.
Not for long; I’ll have to
get rid of the car
, he told himself.

“How are your parents doing?” the bishop
asked, once they had settled into stiff, old wooden chairs with a
round, wooden table between them.

“Good, thank you.”

Nash was quite nervous about speaking to the
bishop. He didn’t know how truthful he should be.

“Let us pray first, and then you can tell me
why you have come to see me today. We can eat as we talk,” the
bishop said.

They both bowed their heads for a silent
prayer. For some inexplicable reason, Nash’s right eye started to
twitch, so he rubbed it hard. Then an uncontrollable urge to laugh
came over him, and he had to fight it.
I suppose it’s ‘cause I’m
so nervous
, he thought.

“Now, Nash, have a sandwich and tell me why
you came to see me today.”

Nash stuffed two of the cucumber and peanut
butter sandwiches into his mouth at once, noting that the bishop
didn’t move to take any. When he finished the sandwiches, he spoke.
“I want to come back to the community.” Nash expected the bishop to
gasp or to act surprised, but he kept a perfectly straight face.
I suppose the bishop hears lots of strange things all the
time
, he thought,
especially after people come back from
rumspringa
.

At that point Mrs. Graber reappeared. “Oh,
you’re out here,” she said, her face falling with disappointment.
“I wondered why the place had suddenly gone quiet. I brought you
both an onion and honey tea. Good for colds.” Mrs. Graber deposited
two steaming mugs and walked away slowly, looking back over her
shoulder.