Gay Amish 03 - A Way Home (18 page)

“How are you?”

Grace looked ready to snap in half. She moved on to the next carrot, peeling vigorously. “Well.”

“I…” He glanced around at all the women, who didn’t try to pretend they weren’t hanging on every word. “Maybe we can go somewhere and talk?” The least he owed her was a proper apology.

At this, Grace looked up. “What is there to say?” She hesitated, something like hope brightening her eyes. “Unless you’re back to stay?”

David could practically feel Mother behind him vibrating with anticipation and tension. “Uh…”

Grace peeled off a long strip, her head down again. “I’ll pray for you.”

“I’d better get to work.” His face hot, David backed away. He had half a mind to run down the driveway and not look back. What had he been thinking coming here? It would just make everything harder.

“It’s good to see you here, my David.” Mother smiled then, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Where you belong.”

“Thank you,” David managed to get out. He wasn’t staying. But to see his mother smile at him like that again tightened his throat all the same, even though she surely knew deep down it was a lie—he didn’t belong here. He never really had.

He glanced up and saw Deacon Stoltzfus watching him, his gaze heavy and unreadable.

“It’s not too late.”

He’d always thought the deacon hated him, but even he still had faith in David. But it could never be.

Some men and boys were already in the fields planting, and others were gathered beyond the barn where the new shed would clearly go, stacks of lumber marking the spot. The murmur of conversation ceased as David neared, and when he reached them, there was silence.

Then Josiah Otto from the next farm smiled widely and walked to David with his hand out. “How good to see you, my friend!”

David shook his hand gratefully, and while some of the men merely nodded, Joseph Yoder took David’s hand enthusiastically. He was around David’s age.

“Am I fortunate enough to have you helping today?” Joseph nodded to the lumber.

“Of course. It’s my pleasure. Put me to work.”

“Actually, could you look over the plans first? Make sure we’re building it the right way?”

David happily examined the plans and made a few suggestions. “You see? It’ll have a better foundation that way.”

Josiah Otto nodded eagerly. “Joseph, I’d do whatever David says is best. He surely knows.” He glanced over at a little boy. “Abram! Put that down.” Only several years older than David, he already had five children. As Joseph fetched David some spare tools, Josiah leaned in and lowered his voice. “Are you back for good?”

“No. I’m not staying.”

Josiah’s face fell, but he nodded. “Maybe one day you’ll change your mind.”

David felt the pull to go along with it, but he shook his head. “I don’t think so. This isn’t my path.”

For a long moment, Josiah was silent. “I can’t agree with you, but you’re here today, and I’m glad of it.” He lifted his straw hat and wiped his brow, pushing back his thick black bangs. “You were always a good neighbor, David. You stood by your word and helped me when I needed it. You should know that I paid Eli what I still owed your family for the land. It worked out for everyone to sell a bit back to Joseph now that he’s living here and wants to farm it. We’re working together on planting. But you could have taken all that land back when I wasn’t able to pay. I’m forever grateful that you didn’t.”

Josiah’s words warmed him, and David smiled. “I’m glad I could help.”

Josiah smiled, but then sobered. “Have you been to the hospital to see Nathan Byler?”

“Yes. He’s very ill. He’s the reason for my visit.”

“I heard their oldest is here visiting as well. I remember him a little from Red Hills. And Isaac’s back too?”

David nodded. “They want to help their brother. They’ve been very good to me in the world, so I’m here to support them. And to see my mother and sisters, of course.”

“We’re all praying for that family.”

“I know they appreciate it.”

“The Lord’s path for us is a mysterious one sometimes. It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Well, I suppose we’d best get started.” He clapped a friendly hand on David’s arm.

As the morning wore on and the sun filled the sky, David found he was glad he was there too. The breeze carried a hint of cherry blossoms, and it was invigorating to saw and hammer and craft again. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a week since he’d left San Francisco. His muscles were pleasurably sore, and as he worked side by side with his former neighbors, peace filled him.

He knew he could never truly be Amish again, but there were some things he’d miss about it all of his days.

Even the horses were watching as Isaac climbed down from the buggy with Ephraim. Katie and Joseph clambered out of the back, running off to see their friends. No one was in school on a frolic day, and children’s laughter rang out amid the chatter of work.

Ephraim gave Isaac’s arm a tug. “Come on. Just ignore everyone.”

Isaac tried his best, but the whispers slithered through the new grass like snakes. He nodded to people, and when they asked after Nathan while giving him looks that ranged from suspicious to sympathetic, he and Ephraim took turns answering. Isaac was just telling Elijah Raber that Nathan had felt well enough to eat his whole lunch the day before when he stopped, staring.

Elijah frowned. “What was that about lunch?”

“Uh…” Isaac stared at the frame of a new shed, where David swung his hammer, his shirt rolled up over his elbows and forearms flexing. For a moment Isaac had tumbled back in time to when David sent his heart fluttering and he wouldn’t admit why.
Couldn’t
admit why, even to himself.

Ephraim jumped in. “Nathan was feeling a little better yesterday afternoon.” When they walked on, Ephraim hissed, “What’s with you? Elijah didn’t say anything bad. You were miles away.”

“Sorry. I’m distracted.” Isaac forced his gaze away from David, only to find Mervin standing frozen a few feet away as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’ll go join in,” Ephraim muttered before hurrying away.

Mervin clutched a bag of seed in one hand, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. People bustled around nearby, but they were mostly alone near the broad side of the barn. Isaac tried to smile. “Hi.” Even though they’d sat in the tree house for an hour the other day, the reality that things would never be the old easy way between them caught in the back of Isaac’s throat.

“Hi.” Mervin’s voice was scratchy.

“How are you?”

“Fine, thank you.” He nodded a greeting to one of the Kauffman boys walking by, and glanced around nervously. “Isaac, I’ve been thinking.”

“Okay. About what?”

I’ve known you my whole life, and I know you’re not bad.”

Isaac’s heart thumped. “You’re right—I’m not. David isn’t either.”

“I know. You wouldn’t…care about him if he was. But I was thinking, if you both went to Bishop Yoder and confessed, he could help you.” Mervin started speaking faster, gesturing with his hand the way he always did when he was excited. “I know that if you stayed, God would help you.
I
would help you. We all would. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“This is the way I am, Mervin. It’ll never change. And I don’t want it to. Neither does David. I know you’re saying this because you care, but this is the way God made us.”

Mervin’s wide face creased. “You truly do believe that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I hope you’ll be happy. I hope…I hope I’ll see you again.”

“I hope so too. Be happy. I wish you a good life with Sadie.” Isaac ached to reach out and hug him, but knew he couldn’t. “You were always a good friend. You still are.”

“So were you, Isaac. Just…take care of yourself.” Nodding a goodbye, Mervin plodded back toward the fields.

Isaac watched him go, knowing it very well might be the last time he ever saw his best friend. He swallowed thickly and pulled his straw hat low over his face. When he went to join the men working on the shed, he tried not to look at David. But when Joseph called out to Isaac, David jerked his head up, almost knocking it on a new beam. Isaac tried not to laugh, the moment of joy a welcome respite.

It was odd to be at a frolic, once again pretending David didn’t make his heart leap. Of course now they’d run off to the world together, although the community didn’t know how
together
they were. Isaac smiled to himself as he sawed off a corner joist, but his smile vanished when Samuel Schrock started in on all the reasons Isaac and David should come back to Zebulon and be baptized.

By the time they were able to escape, lunch was being served. With a long look at Isaac, David disappeared into the barn, and Isaac followed, his pulse fluttering as he remembered the hours he and David had spent there. He had half a mind to haul the door closed behind them and bolt the door.

“My worktable’s gone,” David said wistfully as he turned in a slow circle. He walked to a stall and ran his hand over the wood. “It’s all so familiar but different.” He tipped back his head and stared at the loft arching high overhead. “I loved this place,” he whispered.

“Me too. It was our place. I mean, it was yours, but…”

“No. It was ours.” David smiled softly. “After only that first day, I knew it would never be the same without you here. I used to wish—” He broke off, and his smile soured. “Never mind. Wishes are for children and fools. Not for men.”

“Then I must be a fool. Tell me.”

Sighing, David walked the old floorboards, which creaked under his boots as he gazed into the rafters. “I used to wish that this really was our place. Just the two of us, and we could work and live and love, and no one would mind.”

Isaac’s heart clenched. “Who says we can’t one day? I miss it, David. I still want to go to school, but you never know where we’ll end up.”

Smiling wistfully, David shook his head. “No room for a barn in San Francisco. And barns cost money. A lot of money.”

“But maybe one day. Don’t stop wishing, David. Please don’t ever stop.” The tender look David gave him in response made Isaac smile himself, and a thought struck him. With another glance at the empty doorway, he hurried down the narrow corridor past the stalls to the back corner of the barn. But the shower David had rigged was gone—just another rectangle now with hay scattered here and there.

David spoke from behind him. “I’m sure Mother had Eli dismantle it and make sure no one knew it was ever there.”

Isaac sighed. “Yes. It was so clever, though.”

David pressed up against him, and heat flashed through Isaac as they stumbled into the stall. He knew they shouldn’t, but Isaac didn’t resist, turning in David’s arms and moaning softly as David pushed him against the wall, leaning against him from shoulder to hip. He smelled like sawdust and sweat and fresh grass, and Isaac licked David’s throat, his hands roaming over him.

They kissed roughly, hats tumbling to the floor, and David thrust against him, hoisting up one of Isaac’s legs to wrap around his hip. “I’m wearing the underwear you like,” he murmured.

Blood rushed to Isaac’s cock. “The really tight ones?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Isaac ground against him. “Show me.” He dropped his leg to give David room to move.

With quick fingers, David unfastened his pants, and they fell to his ankles. The briefs were black and short, and the bulge in the front made Isaac want to drop to his knees and suck his thick cock until David was shooting down his throat. It was so wrong and dangerous, but somehow felt as necessary as breathing. Like it would prove that even with their Amish clothes, they were still the same inside.
I’m a…a
cocksucker
, and I’m proud of it. I love him. I don’t want anyone to “help” me.
But as he kissed David and palmed his shaft, footsteps creaked in the barn.

“David? Isaac? Are you in here?” Anna called. “Oh, Joseph! I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Eyes wide, David hauled up his pants and they straightened their clothing. Anna continued talking far too loudly—Joseph Yoder must have thought she had suddenly developed a hearing problem—and fortunately Isaac’s burgeoning erection flagged even as his heart pounded. He wiped his mouth and jammed his hat back on his head. He was sure he was just as flushed as David, but after a minute they walked out, trying to appear casual.

“There you are! You’re going to miss lunch.” Anna smiled sweetly.

“I hope you don’t mind us taking a look around the old place,” David said to Joseph. “Lots of memories here.”

“Of course not. Spend as much time as you’d like. I’d better go get some chicken before it’s gone.”

As Joseph left, Isaac realized Ephraim was in the doorway. Ephraim stared at them with a strange expression Isaac couldn’t place. Not anger, but a deep stillness that sent a shiver up Isaac’s spine.

“Ephraim, did you save any pie, or did you eat a dozen yourself? I wouldn’t put it past you,” Anna teased.

Isaac laughed nervously—his braying goat of a guffaw that made his ears go red. David didn’t look at him, and Isaac noticed there was hay stuck on the brim of David’s hat. He resisted the urge to pick it off.

“I saved plenty.” Ephraim smiled then, barely. He still stared at Isaac and David.

Isaac’s throat was dry. “Great. I love pie.” His brother’s gaze felt like an English laser burning right through him.

“Better get out there.” Ephraim turned and was gone.

“You two be more careful! Goodness!” Anna hissed as he scurried out.

“There’s hay in your hat,” Isaac muttered. “And that really was stupid of us.”

David took off his hat and pulled the strands free. “Yes. It really was.” He toyed with the straw brim. “Isaac, what are we doing here? It’s like we’re play acting. It feels like…I don’t know. Like this is some strange dream. Like I don’t know who we really are right now. I mean, I know we’re us, but I hate disappointing them. It doesn’t feel honest.”

“I know.” Isaac rubbed his face. “But until Nathan’s better, or at least until we get the test results, I have to be here. You don’t, though. Not that I don’t want you here. Of course I do. But if you want to go back to San Francisco, I’ll understand.”