Loving Isaac

Chapter Two

“Ellen?” Isaac’s mother had stepped out onto the front porch of the farmhouse. She frowned as she saw Isaac leading Ellen with his arm about her waist. “What happened?”

Ellen felt the sudden tension in Isaac’s shoulders. “Some Englishers forced her off the road. The buggy came to a stop in a ditch.”

“Ach, nay. Poor dear.” Katie eyed her with concern. “Isaac, help her into the kitchen.”

Ellen wanted to insist on walking on her own, but she wasn’t about to protest in front of his mother. She still wasn’t feeling the best and was grateful for the assistance. Her head hurt and she felt woozy.

“Here.” Katie gestured toward a chair. “Sit her here.”

Isaac saw her comfortably seated, then promptly disappeared into the back room.

His mother bent to closely examine her injuries. “You hurt your cheek.” She narrowed her gaze as she studied her. “And your forehead.”

Ellen nodded. Her cheek throbbed and she had a headache. She reached up to feel the sore bump on her forehead.

Isaac returned and handed his mother an ice pack.

Katie smiled at him approvingly, then pressed it gently against Ellen’s forehead. “Hold it here for a few minutes and then shift it to your cheek.”

“Danki.” She tried to smile until the simple movement of her lips hurt. Isaac stood by the kitchen worktable, watching silently.

“The driver was reckless,” Katie said.

“Ja. ’Twas Brad Smith,” Isaac said darkly.

His mother shot him a glance. “You know him?”

“Ja.” Isaac’s scowl revealed that he wasn’t pleased. “He’s Nancy’s bruder.”

Katie frowned.

“Thank the Lord that Isaac came when he did,” Ellen admitted. The memory of the boys getting out of their car made her shudder.

“I’m glad I was there to help,” he murmured, his expression softening.

Ellen didn’t say anything as she looked away.

“You did gut, Soohn.” Katie regarded her son warmly.

Something flickered in Isaac’s expression. “Any one of us would have helped.” He smiled. “You taught us well.”

Katie nodded. “I’ll put on the teakettle.” She turned toward the stove. “You need a cup to revive you.”

As she held ice to her cheek, Ellen encountered Isaac’s gaze. She shifted the bag to her forehead. Isaac frowned, left the room and returned with another ice bag. She gave a jolt when he sat down close beside her and pressed it gently against her cheek. “Danki,” she murmured.

He leaned forward as he kept hold of the ice. “You’re willkomm.”

“Here we are.” Katie set three cups of hot steaming tea on the table. She returned to get a coffee cake from the counter. “How about a nice slice of cinnamon cake? I made it fresh this morning.”

Ellen had smelled it as soon as she’d entered the kitchen earlier. She felt her stomach rumble as if urging her to eat. Embarrassed, she nodded.

She lowered the ice pack and set it on the table. The ice was soothing to her injuries, but after a while, the cold felt too intense. Taking her cue, Isaac removed the other bag. She was aware that he watched her every moment as if he half expected her to faint or fall over...or something worse. She tried to smile reassuringly but the simple movement caused pain to radiate along the right side of her face. Without asking, Isaac quickly picked up an ice bag and held it to the painful area. Ellen welcomed the cold again, as it helped to alleviate the soreness. Disturbed by his nearness, she reached up to take control of the bag. Her fingers accidentally brushed against his; she froze as she locked gazes with him.

“I’ve got it,” she assured him. She hated that he had the power to make her feel something besides anger, that he could still make her wish for things that she no longer wanted.

Isaac leaned back in his chair without a word as his mother sliced the coffee cake, then set the pieces within reach in the middle of the table. Katie then sat across from her and Isaac. In the ensuing silence, Ellen remained overly aware of Isaac beside her as she sipped from her teacup.

“Where’s Hannah?” Isaac asked conversationally.

“At Abram’s.” Katie took a sip of tea. “She loves playing with Mae Anne.”

Their deacon, Abram Peachy, a widower, had married Charlotte King of the Amos Kings, who lived across the road from the Lapps. When she’d married Abram, Charlotte had become mother to Abram’s five children. Then a year and a half ago, Charlotte had given birth to a daughter, Mae Anne, and she had six children to mother and love. Mae Anne, a toddler, was as cute as she was bright, and her older siblings adored her. Isaac’s sister, Hannah, now eight, had been drawn to the baby immediately. The youngest Lapp sibling loved spending time with babies and children younger than her, including her own nieces and nephews.

“She’s gut with kinner. She’ll make a fine mudder one day.” Ellen dug her fork into the coffee cake and brought a piece to her mouth. She felt Isaac’s gaze on her, met his glance and quickly looked away. She felt her heart rate accelerate, her stomach flutter as if filled with butterflies.

* * *

Isaac gazed at the girl seated at his family’s kitchen table and felt his stomach tighten as he thought of the accident. When he’d learned that it was Brad and his friends in the car, he’d felt his hackles rise. These English boys were rude and nearly always up for trouble, and trouble was the last thing he needed. He’d already found it once with them, and he wasn’t looking to get involved with them again. Except he’d never have known Nancy’s true colors if not for them. He’d been happy when he’d met Nancy Smith, pleased when she’d wanted to meet his family. He’d found her fascinating, and after he’d spent some time with her, his fascination had grown. Dressed all in black, she’d worn heavy eye makeup and bright red lipstick. Her appearance stood out in a crowd, which wasn’t the Amish way, but she’d been sweet and he’d realized after talking with her for hours that they shared a lot in common. Until he’d learned that she’d pretended to like him simply because she’d been curious about the Amish way of life.

The pain of learning the truth about her still lingered. His foolishness in getting involved with her and her unkind circle of friends bothered him. He’d given his parents cause to worry, and for that he was sincerely sorry.

As Ellen and his mother chatted, Isaac studied the young woman seated next to him. He had a clear up-close view of her features. Tendrils of blond hair had escaped from under her kapp during the accident. The bruise on her cheek stood out starkly against her smooth complexion. She turned, saw him staring and raised her eyebrows questioningly. He continued to watch her, unable to look away. Her cheeks turned bright pink and she averted her gaze.

It seemed impossible that they’d known each other forever, but they had. He had to admit it had been a long time since they’d spent any time together like they used to. His fault, he knew, but he couldn’t undo the past. He’d chosen Nancy over Ellen.

Isaac experienced a strange tingle of awareness of Ellen that he’d never felt before. “How is your head?”

Ellen gingerly touched her forehead. “Not too painful.”

He frowned, because he didn’t believe her. He stood. “I’ll get more ice.”

“Nay, I’m fine.” She waved at him to sit down.

He reluctantly resumed his seat. “When you’re ready to go, I’ll take you home.”

“There’s no need—”

“Let him, Ellen,” Mam said. “You just had an accident. You shouldn’t be driving home until you’re certain there are no other aftereffects.”

“I’ll take you home,” Isaac said. “Jacob can give me a ride back.” It was an easy walk from Ellen’s house to Zook’s Blacksmithy, where his older brother Jacob worked.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not, Ellen,” he said, teasing her. “At least, not today.” He paused. “Finish your cake. You need to keep up your strength.”

She arched her eyebrows. “I don’t need to eat. I’m strong enough.”

“You don’t like my mam’s cake?” He laughed when he heard her inhale sharply, saw her expression fill with outrage.

She glared at him, but he could see that she fought a smile.

His mother had left the room. She returned within minutes with Ellen and her mother’s quilt squares, which he’d placed on top of their hall linen chest on their way through to the kitchen. Mam pulled the squares out of the bag. “These are lovely, Ellen.”

Ellen smiled. “I’ll tell Mam that you said so.”

“I see your work here. Your stitching is extraordinary.”

Isaac was intrigued. “May I see?”

His mother chose and then handed him two squares. Isaac examined them carefully and thought he knew which one was Ellen’s. “Your stitches are neat and even,” he murmured and then held up the one in his right hand. “This one is yours.”

Ellen seemed stunned. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “I just did.” And his mother had said that Ellen’s work was extraordinary. He was unable to take his gaze off her, saw her blush. He returned the squares to his mother. “Who’s getting the quilt?”

“Martha,” Mam said. “For the baby.”

Isaac smiled. His older brother Eli and his wife, Martha, were expecting their first child. “Doesn’t Martha usually come to your quilting on Wednesdays?”

Mam smiled. “Ja, but she told me that she can’t come this Wednesday. With hard work, we’ll get her quilt done in one day.”

He smiled knowingly. “You told Eli.”

“I had to,” Mam said defensively. “I couldn’t risk that Martha would change her mind and decide to come.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll put these upstairs. Martha could stop by for a visit.” She left with the squares and seconds later her footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

Ellen stared into her teacup.

He eyed her with concern. “You don’t look well. You should see a doctor.”

“Nay.” She glanced up from her empty cup. “I’m fine.”

He studied her with amusement. “You’re too quiet.”

“Quiet?” She appeared offended.

He laughed. “You were quiet.”

She scowled, then winced as if in pain.

“Your cheek hurts.” He clicked his tongue. “We have aspirin. I can get you some.”

“Nay.”

“Another cup of tea?” he asked.

“Nay.” She shook her head and grimaced.

“You need to stop shaking your head. It hurts you.” He stood. “Ellen—”

She blinked up at him. “Ja?” Her expression suddenly turned wary.

“You will let me drive you home,” he said, his voice firm. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Ellen relented. “Oll recht,” she said, surprising him. “After your mudder comes back.”

He inclined his head. His mam returned and he waited while the women discussed refreshments for their Wednesday quilting bee. Finally, Ellen turned to him. “I’m ready to go now.”

“I’ll help you,” he said quietly.

“I can manage on my own.”

He frowned. He didn’t like her coloring. She looked too pale. He exchanged meaningful glances with his mother. “Mam, we’ll take the ice.”

Mam nodded and handed the packs to Ellen.

Ellen accepted the ice bags graciously. They walked outside together until they reached the buggy.

“Ellen.” Isaac extended his hand toward her. “I don’t think we should take any chances.” She took it reluctantly. He felt a jolt as he felt the warmth of her fingers. He helped her onto the vehicle’s front passenger side. “Comfortable?” he asked huskily. He lingered, unable to withdraw his gaze.

“Despite my headache, sore cheek and throbbing shoulder?” she answered saucily. “I’m wonderful.”

Her smart answer made him smile. “Shoulder?” He puckered his brow. “You hurt your shoulder and didn’t tell me?”

“’Tis nothing.”

He didn’t believe her.

Her expression softened. “It doesn’t hurt much.”

Annoyed as well as concerned, Isaac rounded the vehicle, climbed in next to her, then grabbed the reins. As he drove silently down the dirt lane, then made a right onto the main road toward the Mast farm, Isaac found his thoughts fixed on the girl beside him.

* * *

Ellen stared out the side window as Isaac drove. Why Isaac? Why did he have to be the one who’d rescued her? She firmed her lips as she pressed the ice to her throbbing forehead. Her cheek hurt and she pressed the other bag of ice against her skin. She and Isaac had been such good friends. They’d walked often to Whittier’s Store for a soda or an ice-cream cone. They’d talked about their families, their farm and their Amish community. She’d known that Isaac had looked at their relationship as just one of friendship, but Ellen had hoped that his feelings would change to become something more. She’d never told Isaac of her love for him. After what had happened with Nancy, she would have suffered the ultimate humiliation if she had.

After the accident today, she knew she could trust Isaac for help, as he’d helped her with the buggy and her injuries. But she could never trust him with her heart, not after the way he’d accused her of being mean-spirited and jealous of Nancy when she’d tried to warn him about the English girl.

Her fingers tightened on the bag of ice as she lowered it from her forehead to her lap.

She couldn’t forget what she’d overheard that fateful day when Isaac, his brother and a few friends had been discussing Nancy—and her. She’d been coming around the side of the barn when she’d overheard them. She’d remained hidden, slowly dying inside as she listened to their conversation.

“Nancy is wonderful. I’ve never met a girl like her. I never thought I’d have a girlfriend like her.”

“What about Ellen?” It had been Nate Peachy’s voice.

“What about her?”

“I thought there was something special between you two.”

Isaac had laughed. “Nay, it’s not like that between us. She’s like Hannah—my sister.”

After hearing that, Ellen had run back the way she had come, her heart hammering within her chest, tears running down her cheeks. Thankfully, the boys hadn’t seen her, hadn’t witnessed the devastation she’d felt with Isaac’s few simple words.

Isaac had abandoned their friendship and never looked back as he’d moved on with Nancy. Nancy had made it clear that Ellen wasn’t needed in Isaac’s life, and Isaac, by dismissing Ellen’s fears, had agreed.

Ellen stared at the countryside as it rushed by her window. She couldn’t help but remember the humiliation she’d felt the first time Isaac’s friends had gazed at her with sympathy after his conversation about her with them. She hadn’t wanted or needed anyone’s pity. She still didn’t want anyone’s pity.

“You’re quiet,” Isaac said, interrupting her thoughts.

She met his gaze briefly. “I’m admiring the view.” She paused. “I don’t hear you saying much, either,” she added with a lift of her eyebrows before she looked toward the window again.

He laughed. “True.”

They had reached the end of the lane to her family farm. She watched as Isaac expertly made the turn onto the dirt road. As he steered into the yard, he sent her a look, his eyes briefly focused on the side of her face. “Your cheek is turning purple.”

“I’ll live,” she said flippantly. Regretful, she drew in a sharp breath, then released it. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s hurting more than I’d like to admit. I appreciate what you did for me.”

His eyes softened. “I’m glad I could help.” He drove the buggy close to the barn and parked. Ellen climbed out of the vehicle before Isaac had the chance to assist her.

Her mother came out of the house. “Ah, gut. You’re back. I need help with these pies for Sunday—” She stopped when she spied Isaac. “Hallo, Isaac. I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Josie,” he greeted her with a nod. “I drove Ellen home because there was an accident with the buggy.”

Her mother stiffened and studied her. “Are you hurt?” She turned to Isaac. “What happened?”

“A car passed too fast and spooked Blackie. The buggy swerved off the road,” Isaac said. “Ellen did a gut job with controlling your mare. She kept the buggy from rolling over into the drainage ditch along Ned Yoder’s farm.”

Ellen felt self-conscious with the two of them studying her.

“You’ve hurt your cheek and your forehead.” Mam looked with approval at the bag of ice in Ellen’s hands. “You iced it—gut. Katie was wise to give it to you.”

Ellen bit her lip. “It was Isaac’s idea. He gave it to me.” She didn’t know why she told her mother that.

Her mother gave him a half smile. “That was kind of you, Isaac.”

Isaac shrugged. “I was on my way home from Eli’s when I saw it happen.”

Ellen noticed that he hadn’t told her about the English boys who’d forced her from the road.

“I should go.” His gray gaze made an assessing sweep of her head and face. “You may want to keep that iced,” he said softly.

She nodded. Although she had to fight the desire to tell him that she could do without his instructions.

“Will can take you home,” her mother suggested.

“Will?” Ellen said with surprise. She frowned. “Mam, I don’t think Will should be the one to drive him home.”

“I’ll walk to Jacob’s as planned. I’ve been wanting to stop in and see him.” He regarded her with a crooked smile. “Take care of yourself, Ellen.” He turned to her mother. “Josie, I hope those pies you mentioned are for visiting Sunday.”

Mam’s lips curved. “They are.”

Isaac grinned. “Gut. Something to look forward to.” His gray eyes settled on her. “Be well, Ellen.” He nodded to her mother. “Josie.” Then he left, departing down the dirt lane toward the main road. She watched him for several seconds before she turned toward her mother, catching a glimpse of her parent following Isaac through narrowed eyes as he walked away. Ellen couldn’t help but wonder what her mother was thinking. “Is something wrong?”

Mam shook her head. “I should get back to the kitchen.”

“Pies?” Ellen reminded her.

Mam seemed to shake away her thoughts. “Ja. I’ve promised to bring three pies this Sunday and I’m having trouble with them.”

Ellen’s lips twitched. Her mother was a good cook but for some strange reason pies weren’t her strong point. Ellen’s grandmother had been good at pie making and she’d taught Ellen.

Why did her mother choose to bring pies when they were clearly a chore for her? Ellen asked her.

“Alta Hershberger asked me to,” she said simply, and Ellen understood. Her mother wouldn’t challenge a request from the village busybody. To do so would give Alta fodder to natter about.

As she followed her mother into the kitchen, she immediately saw the mess Mam had made. She grinned. “How many piecrusts did you attempt to make?”

Mam looked sheepish. “One.”

“Then we’d better get busy if we’re going to bake three pies.”

As she mixed the ingredients, then rolled out the crust dough, Ellen thought of her morning and Isaac’s part in it. She frowned as she carefully lifted a rolled circle of dough and set it into a pie plate. The fact that Isaac had helped her didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean he wanted them to be friends again.

Maybe it was time to go out and have some fun. She’d talk with her parents about going on rumspringa. Then while out and about, she could locate Dr. Westmore’s medical clinic for genetic diseases. She needed to learn as much as she could to convince her parents to allow her to volunteer her time there.

Chapter Three

Sunday arrived, and Ellen climbed into the family buggy with her parents and younger brothers. The pies she’d made with her mother had come out nicely. The scent of baked apples, cherry and custard filled the vehicle, making her stomach grumble. Ellen was particularly pleased with the snitz and custard pies. Those were her favorite flavors, and she looked forward to enjoying a tiny sliver of each after the midday meal.

They were headed to Cousin Sarah’s house. Sarah was married to Jedidiah Lapp, Isaac’s oldest brother. Ellen knew that she’d probably see Isaac there, but she wasn’t going to let it concern her. She’d had a couple of days to put things in perspective. She realized that it had felt odd to spend time alone with him again, the first time since before he and Nancy had begun seeing each other. He’s acted as if we’ve never had words over his English girlfriend.

Now that she was on the mend, things would get back to the way they’d been before her buggy mishap. Isaac wouldn’t notice her, and he’d leave her alone. Ellen looked forward to her first outing during her rumspringa, the running-around time during which teenagers within the Amish community were allowed the freedom to enjoy the English world. It was their parents’ and the community’s hope that given the choice, their young people would make the decision to join the church and stay in the community. If they chose to leave, they were free to go and return to visit as long as they hadn’t joined the church first. If they joined the church and then left for the English world, they’d be shunned by their families and friends and wouldn’t be allowed to return.

Ellen had every intention of joining the church, but she wanted to enjoy rumspringa. She’d use the opportunity to check out the Westmore Clinic for Special Children, bring home information so that she could convince her father to allow her to volunteer there. She decided that she’d talk with her friend Elizabeth to plan a trip into the city of Lancaster. They could go next Saturday. The thought of getting away for the day excited her. She hadn’t spoken to her parents about it yet, but she couldn’t see why it would be a problem.

They arrived at the Jedidiah Lapp farm, where Dat steered Blackie onto the driveway and parked in the yard on one end of a long line of familiar gray buggies.

Sarah came out of the house, carrying her son, Gideon, as Ellen climbed out of the buggy with two pies.

“Sarah!” She always enjoyed spending time with her cousin. She and Sarah had shared a room when Sarah had first come for a visit, and Ellen had loved having her stay. She’d been pleased when Sarah, originally from Kent County, Delaware, had moved permanently to their village of Happiness after she’d fallen in love and married Jedidiah Lapp.

“Ellen.” Sarah beamed at her, then greeted her aunt, Ellen’s mother. “Josie, ’tis gut to see you. We haven’t had time to spend together lately.”

Her mother held a pie and made to grab one from Ellen, who smiled as she shook her head. “You’re looking well, Sarah,” Mam said. “Your little one is certainly getting to be a big boy.”

“Ja, he is. I don’t know where the time has gone. It seems like only yesterday that he was a newborn and now he’s three years old.”

Holding two pies, Ellen asked her cousin where she wanted her to put them.

“Jedidiah is getting a table. Would you like to set them inside until the table’s ready?”