The Promise of an Angel (A Heaven On Earth 1) (32 page)

She looked down at his hand covering hers, then lifted her eyes to meet his. “I still am . . . in six hours,” she murmured, turning away from the intensity of his stare.

“Change your mind and stay.”

She couldn’t change God’s decision. She’d already tried. “How
kumm
you took this route?”

His expression saddened and she closed her eyes, remembering how he avoided the main route when they visited Samuel in the hospital. Levi had asked the same question, and something painful stirred in Andrew’s eyes that day.

“I took the other road on my way into town.” He kept his focus on the road. “Besides, this way I can show you a quilt.”

Judith lifted her brows. “A quilt?” She was leaving in six hours, and he wanted her to see a quilt.

“This one is special—you’ll want to see it,” he said, then whispered under his breath, “I hope.”

Judith looked at the
Englisch
houses. Thanksgiving hadn’t passed, and their houses and lawns were already decorated for Christmas. She sighed. It would be difficult not celebrating Jesus’ birth with her family.

Andrew glanced at her. “What are you thinking about?”

Judith dug her hands into her cape pockets and dabbed at her eyes with a tattered tissue. Even if she admitted to feeling sad over leaving, Andrew couldn’t do anything about it. “Where did you say this quilt is?”

“I didn’t say.” He turned his head and concentrated on the road.

Judith shifted in her seat. If the bishop caught the two of them together, surely Andrew would be punished. She was surprised that her father had allowed them to leave the bus station together. She twisted to look out the window opening.

He chuckled. “Why are you so nervous?”

She focused on the passing houses. “Worried, is all.”

“About what?”

“You don’t have to hide the truth from me. I know why you chose this route. So your father won’t see us together.”

Andrew shook his head. He cleared his throat. “Esther lived down the other road. I haven’t gone that way in three years. Not since—”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to explain.”

He forced a smile. “We were on a buggy ride when she died.”

Judith touched his forearm. “I’m sorry. Driving that way today
muscht
have been painful. I don’t blame you for not wanting to go back that direction.”

He patted her hand. “I had to reach you. I couldn’t let you go.”

She snapped her hand off his forearm. “I only have a few hours before I have to be back at the bus station.” She looked out the opening. The ride into town was difficult, but this was too much to bear. While at the station, she had time to reflect on all the people and activities she’d miss. Baking pies with her mother, the community suppers, walking Rebecca to
shul
, reading to Samuel . . . and mostly, she would miss Andrew. His strong arms, his grin. She dabbed the tissue against the corners of her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, but deep down she knew she would never be okay. How had Andrew come to mean so much in her life? It occurred to her then that during the long ride into town, and the time she’d spent waiting for the bus, Levi hadn’t once crossed her mind.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Levi.”

Andrew’s expression hardened. “Sorry I asked.”

“I was thinking about how I didn’t think of him . . . I mean, when I was waiting at the bus station.”

Andrew’s brows rose and his head cocked to the side as though he was unscrambling her statement to make sense of it.

“When I thought of missing everyone when I was in Ohio, Levi never came to mind.”

Andrew rubbed the nape of his neck. “I don’t think he would be the first to come to my mind either.” He looked at her a long moment, then said, “I heard he proposed.”

“
Jah
, he did.” Judith fumbled with the tissue in her hand. “I heard all my life that God’s purpose for me was to marry and have children.”

“And now?”

She shrugged. “I don’t see myself falling in love with someone in Ohio.” She didn’t see herself loving anyone other than Andrew.

Judith had replayed Clare’s words a hundred times since the evening everyone gathered for singing. How she said the bishop had given his approval of marriage. Andrew and Clare wouldn’t have sought the bishop’s approval unless there was a commitment between them.

She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. No, if her purpose was to marry and have children as Amish women were taught growing up, she didn’t know if she had any purpose at all. The recurring dream of the footpath with its glittering leaves didn’t help. The narrow road, she’d come to believe, meant she would walk it alone—in Ohio. And she was all right with that decision, knowing it was God’s will.

Judith looked at the farms. They had entered the Amish district—Clare’s district. She looked at the space on the bench between her and Andrew and slid over to the side, increasing the distance between them.

Andrew slid closer to Judith. “Close your eyes. I want it to be a surprise.”

Judith raised her eyebrows at him, but complied. Having her eyes closed made it easier to avoid acknowledging that he’d moved closer to her on the bench. A few minutes passed before she felt the pavement end under the buggy wheels and the seat bounce over the bumpy road. What sounded like tree branches swept the roof of the buggy, and Judith fumbled for the edge of the bench. Her hand met Andrew’s, and he gave hers a gentle squeeze.

“Your eyes still closed?”

“Jah.”

“Whoa.” Once the buggy stopped, he nudged her. “Okay, you can look.”

Judith opened her eyes. A small wood-sided cabin came into view. She turned to Andrew as he jumped out. Her eyes followed him as he tied the horse and came to her side of the buggy.

“Kumm mitt mich.”
He reached for her hand.

Judith slanted her brows. “Is this—”

“Where the quilt is?
Jah
.”

She eased off the seat, still not understanding. A stiff breeze caused the leaves to clatter overhead. She gazed up, seeing the glistening golden hues shake against the blue sky.

Following Andrew up the porch steps, Judith paused as he opened the door.

“It’s okay.” He motioned for her to come inside with a wave of his hand.

After her eyes had adjusted to the darkness inside, the empty sitting room came into view. “I don’t understand. Who lives in a house with no furniture?”

“That will take a little time.” He guided her toward a narrow hallway.

Without a lamp, she couldn’t see anything down the dark hallway. She walked close behind Andrew as he led the way. “Whose
haus
is this? Why isn’t there anyone here?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” He stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door, then stepped away to clear her view.

Judith stared at the wooden bed. The quilt she’d sold to Mrs. Stanly was spread neatly over it. “I don’t understand.”

“I bought the quilt.” He studied her eyes. “I bought this
haus
.”

Her hands began to tremble. He’d bought a house in the adjoining district. It made sense, buying a house in Clare’s district. But what was her box doing on the bed? She had left the box and the rock at the river.

Andrew rushed to the bed and picked up the box. His eyes widened as though he, too, was surprised. “I, um . . .”

Judith bolted down the hall and didn’t breathe again until she was standing on the porch.

Andrew stepped outside. He reached for her hand. “It’s small. But it borders the south district and—” He brushed his hand over her cheek. “You don’t like the
haus
?”

“Will you take me home
nau
?”

Andrew came closer. “What’s wrong?”

She squeezed her eyes closed and dropped her gaze to the sun-faded boards of the porch.

“Why did you leave the box at the river?”

Unable to look at him, she turned away, but his strong hands redirected her. “Andrew, please.” His uncompromising stare continued until she sighed. “The rock no longer glowed.
Ich muscht
have done something . . .” She dried her eyes. “I got you into trouble with the bishop. I was selfish. I . . . I was filled with envy. You shouldn’t have made the box for me. I couldn’t possibly take it with me.” Her voice quivered. “I had to leave
you
behind,” she whispered.

His hand brushed her cheek. “Why? Judith, you’re special to me. Can you really leave me behind so easily?”

Her silence agitated him. “I know the
haus
is small,” he said. “I’ll put on an addition. I’ll increase the number of bedrooms. I’ll—”

“Andrew, the house is nice. I just wasn’t prepared to see my quilt on a bed that you made, that’s all.” She paused. “I’m happy for you. I really—”

He moved closer. His eyes focusing on her mouth, he leaned toward her.

“We shouldn’t—”

He brought her against him and, disregarding her dutiful objection, kissed her. A steady, mesmerizing kiss that suspended all reason to pull away. She lifted her hand to his jaw, touching the prickle of whiskers. She pushed away and cringed as she gasped for air. Why hadn’t she seen his jaw shadowed with hair growth before this? Before she kissed a man about to be married.

“What’s wrong?” He tried to reach for her, but she stepped away.

“Don’t touch me.” Without giving heed to self-restraint, she had melted with ease into his arms. She couldn’t allow him that close again.

“What did I do?”

“I told you not to kiss me like that!”

He eased closer, and she backed up until she was up against the porch banister.

She pointed to his face. “You’re getting married.”

“I hope so.” He scratched the whiskers. “I was in a hurry to get to the bus station, but I like the idea of not shaving.” He reached for her hand. “You kissed me too, and neither of us was pretending.”

“It was wrong.” She bowed her head. “Andrew, I know about Clare. She told me you and her—” It hurt to say the words.

“What about us? There’s nothing.”

Judith lifted her head and met his eyes in a stare. “The bishop—your father—gave his approval of your marriage.”

Andrew slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry you heard that.” He came closer and drew her into his arms. “I didn’t hear about that arrangement until today.” He kissed her forehead.

“Andrew, please stop. It’s wrong.”

He kissed her cheek. “I don’t think so.” The tips of his fingers followed her jawline. “You still only want to kiss your husband the way you kissed me?”

“Jah.”

His warm breath created a stir. The hairs along her arm stood in the wake of his feather kisses. She found it impossible to breathe normally. “Andrew.”

“Then marry me so I can kiss you again.” His whiskers brushed against her face. “Marry me, Judith.”

She pulled away before their lips met. “I can’t.” Her throat tightened. Glancing up, she noticed his blank stare and closed her eyes. “I can’t, Andrew.”

“I love you, Judith. I thought you had feelings for me too.”

Lord, I love him
,
but he’d have to leave the church if he married me
.

Andrew blew out a breath. “I wore out the knees in my pants praying for you. Asking God for you.”

Judith opened her eyes. “You were asking God for me?”

He nodded. “I prayed for us. For children. I prayed that your eyes would be open.” He cupped her face. “I love you.” He tipped her chin up with his thumb. “I’ll sell this
haus
if you want to move to Ohio. But I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” She moved her head sideways to avoid looking into his eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be vowing her love to him, and it would never work.

Andrew brought her head back to face him. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, “I’m asking you to marry me, Judith Fischer.”

“Your father won’t allow it.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with him.” He raised his head. “Tell me you don’t love me.”

She swallowed. “Andrew.”

“I know that you do. I see it in your eyes.”

“
Jah
, I love you. But it doesn’t change anything. We still cannot get married. Your father—”

Andrew’s mouth captured her words again, and she surrendered in his embrace. He broke from the kiss. “Are you going to marry me?”

“You know my heart wants to answer
jah
. But I still can’t.”

When she tried to break loose from him, he held her tight.

“I won’t leave God for you, but I’ll leave the community and my family. I would like my father’s blessing, but he won’t stop me from marrying you.” He wiped his hand against her wet face. “Don’t you understand? I haven’t stopped loving God, and I won’t, ever. But my life here in this community would not be complete without you.”

“Don’t say that. You wanted ministry.”

“Not without you.” He dropped his arms from her and shrugged. “I had a dream of us praying together, only instead of your outer
kapp
, you wore a sleeping prayer
kapp
, and I had a beard. Don’t you see? God showed me
us
praying together,
married
.”

“He showed me a dream also. I saw a road, and then it split three ways, and I was told to choose.”

Andrew swallowed. “Which way did you choose?”

“I was directed toward the one in the middle. A mere footpath.” She lifted her hand to cover her face. “Andrew, it
muscht
lead to Ohio.”

Andrew laughed.
“Kumm mitt mich,”
he said, taking hold of her hand. “The center path, you say?”

“
Jah
, but don’t laugh. I’m afraid.”

He squeezed her hand. “I won’t let you go
nau
.”

They walked past the buggy. “Where are you taking me?”

“Your eyes were closed when we pulled in.” He continued to chuckle as he led her out of the wooded trail and out to the main paved road.

Judith gasped. The road was split just like the one in her dream. She pivoted around, taking in the glimmering golden leaves. Unable to speak, she closed her eyes.
Is this true, God? This path leads to Andrew. But what about the bishop?