Love at Pebble Creek Read online

  As he gazed down at her, taking in her innocent face, he wondered how he could have known her for so many years and never recognized her obvious beauty. He silently chastised himself for noticing now; he had been raised to focus on what was inside a person. But at that moment, he found it difficult to look away.

  For some strange reason, he touched the area around the wicked-looking wound. When her eyes grew larger, he realized the awkwardness he’d created between them and found his voice. He slowly pulled his hand away and realized the inappropriateness of his touch. But was it really inappropriate in this particular case?

  “That’s still quite a gash.”

  She smiled and lowered her gaze to the floor before looking back up at him. “I think it looks worse than it feels. At least it stopped bleeding.”

  A short silence ensued while he tried for the right words. Usually, he didn’t have problems knowing what to say. But for some reason, today, when he was so close to her, he was tongue-tied.

  “Could you use some help?”

  He silently scolded himself. Of course she could, but he had his own jobs to do. Chores he was being paid for by her daed. So what was he doing, asking if he could help her when he had a list a mile long of his own?

  The light shade of pink in her cheeks darkened a notch when she smiled at him. She propped the rake against the door of the stall and put her hands on her waist.

  “It’s all right. Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure Daed has plenty for you to do. Especially after the storm.”

  The corners of his lips lifted into an amused grin.

  She started to speak, then stopped.

  He lifted a curious brow. “What were you going to say?”

  She offered a dismissive shrug. “Oh, just that I kind of enjoy being in the barn.” Before he could respond, she went on while continuing to rake. “I know some consider these ‘dirty’ jobs, but I really love being out of the house. There’s just something about physical work that makes me feel gut.” She took a breath. “And . . . you know what?”

  “What?”

  “It might seem strange, but when I’m out here, ideas come to me. For sketches,” she added.

  The statement prompted him to realize something he should have taken note of before. This girl in front of him was even more different than other Amish girls he knew than he’d thought. He admired her passion for art.

  Her surprising statement prompted him to think for a moment before he responded. “It makes for a gut life when you enjoy your work, jah?”

  She nodded. “But I do like it better when the humidity isn’t so high.”

  “I know what you mean. But you can’t have rain without it, and rain is gut for the crops, jah?”

  After a brief pause, she spoke. “I guess it’s like a sponge cake. When you eat one, you get the calories that go with it. They’re a pair, and you can’t have one without the other.”

  A long silence ensued between them while he tried to think of something clever to say, fully aware that he had more than a day’s work ahead of him and that there were only so many hours of light. “I was just about ready to go outside to enjoy the breeze for a few moments.”

  The corners of her lips dropped a notch, and she tensed. “Could we talk a little bit more?”

  Her question surprised him. “Jah.”

  She motioned outside. “It will be nice to sit on the bench for a few moments.” She grinned. “I think we did enough chitchatting in here yesterday.”

  He didn’t want her to be nervous, and it was important to him that she feel free to converse with him. He frowned, uncertain why he would care, but continued by taking her rake from her, propping it against the metal part of the stall, and offering a friendly motion with his hand. “After you.”

  Outside, the bright sun made him blink. A green oak leaf floated down from the tall tree and landed on his shoulder. With one swift motion, he brushed it off. As they approached the wooden bench, he motioned her to sit.

  She did so, and he claimed the spot next to her, leaving adequate space between them to make sure it was proper. He took a swig from his water bottle and turned to her.

  “Something you wanted to talk about?”

  He noticed how she straightened until, finally, she turned to better face him and smiled a little. “Jesse, I want so very much to win that contest.”

  He smiled a little at her honesty. “I figured.”

  After a slight pause, she went on. “But there’s more to it.”

  He lifted a curious brow as he took another swig.

  “You don’t know me that well, but . . .” She paused to draw her palms to her chest and breathe in and close her eyes. The moment she opened them, he was quick to note moisture on her pupils that sparkled like dew on a morning leaf. His heart warmed.

  She turned closer to him and lowered the pitch of her voice to a more emotional tone. As she spoke, compassion edged her voice. The white flecks on her pupils danced with a sense of energy. He listened, but what intrigued him most was the most genuine, heartwarming expression he’d ever seen on a human face.

  “First of all, I want to thank you for so many things. For getting me in to the barn, safe and sound. For helping to stop the bleeding from my forehead. And . . .” She paused, and her breath hitched. “Especially for keeping my secret. I’m truly grateful. And I owe you.”

  “You don’t owe me a thing.”

  “Jah. I do. And sometime, when you can think of some way for me to repay you, let me know. Like you, I keep my word. You can trust me.”

  He grinned. “I think I know how much you want your dream to come true.” He shrugged his shoulders and moved closer to the edge of the seat. Knowing he couldn’t sit here all day with this beautiful, interesting girl, he strummed his fingers against the bench and put his right foot forward as he prepared to stand up.

  She cleared her throat and looked down at the space between them before darting him a wide, appreciative smile. “I know your word is gut.”

  For long moments, he stared at her. It wasn’t the desperation in her tone that pulled at his heartstrings; rather, it was the way her large eyes begged him with such sincerity and strength.

  He offered her a nod. “You’ve got my word, Anna. Again, no need to worry.”

  A newfound excitement edged her voice. “Thank you again, Jesse. I was a little bit nervous asking so much of you. I mean, it wasn’t your fault you saw the contest entry. And I know that your daed ’s the bishop . . .” She hesitated. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  He lifted a hand to stop her. “You won’t. Besides, who my daed is doesn’t matter when it comes to keeping my commitment to you. I prayed about it last night. And you know what?”

  She looked at him to continue.

  “I can tell how much you want to win that contest. And if you decide to go for a four-year degree, who am I to stop you? You don’t have to thank me. Whether or not you enter that contest really isn’t any of my business.”

  He moved both hands to the sides of his thighs and slapped his palms against the boards. After he stood, he smiled down at her. “And gut luck.”

  As they started walking back into the barn together, questions flitted through his mind about this sweet, ambitious girl and why he cared so much that she won.

  “I’ve never really discussed this with anyone . . .”

  He lifted his chin a notch. “I feel special.” Then he recalled the circumstances, and he grimaced. “’Course, I s’ppose you felt you had to tell me. I mean, after I saw the entry.”

  “I did. But now that I look back, talking about it wasn’t such a bad thing.” She looked up at him and pressed her hands against her hips. “When I actually hear the words, they give me hope. I don’t know what my chances are, Jesse. I mean, I’ve sketched for years; it just comes naturally to me, and I’ve learned a good share from books at the library, too, but like I told you yesterday, I’ve never had formal instruction.” She shrugged.

  When he di
dn’t respond, she went on. “I know this sounds silly, but it’s kind of fun having a confidant. I’ve never talked about this to anyone.” She hushed her voice. He wasn’t sure why. There wasn’t anyone else around. “It’s fun sharing my secret with you.”

  Her honesty touched him. To his surprise, he didn’t want their talk to end. It wasn’t the actual subject that compelled him to keep up the conversation. On the contrary, it was her honesty about the subject. The excitement and emotion in her voice. The light dancing in her eyes.

  As a monarch butterfly floated above them, Anna went on. “Jesse, I’ve always sort of looked up to you.”

  “You have?”

  She nodded.

  “Even though we’ve never been close, somehow I always knew I could trust you. And that’s why I’m comfortable sharing something else with you.”

  He narrowed his brows. “Sharing what?”

  “That my strongest weapon to win this contest is prayer. I believe that the more prayers God hears, the more He listens. So there’s something I need to ask you.”

  “What?”

  “Will you pray that I do the right thing?”

  “Of course. Earlier, I was thinking about what you’re about to undertake, and I was wondering if you had a plan for after the win.”

  The expression on her face took on a more serious look.

  “I have, a little.”

  Surely she wasn’t so naïve that she hadn’t considered the church’s reaction. He didn’t like to be nosy. At the same time, he wanted to help this girl who was such an odd combination of savviness and vulnerability. And his protective nature wanted to ensure she understood exactly what she might be getting herself in to.

  “Anna, if you win, what about the Amish faith?” He held up a hand to let her know that his intention was to help her, not hurt her. “I’m sure you’re aware that our faith doesn’t believe in a need for higher education.”

  He paused to lift his shoulders. “I know that some within our community have taken night classes for their GED. But I’m sure you’re aware that going to school in the city would expose you to things our church would disapprove of. And I can say with a large amount of certainty that there are many who won’t support what you plan to do. I want to make sure you know what you’re up against.”

  A long silence ensued, while the leaves of the tall oaks rustled with the breeze. A redbird perched on one of the branches. From where they were, farmland stretched on and on. Which reminded Jesse why Paul King had hired him. It certainly hadn’t been to talk to his daughter about higher education.

  Finally, she responded. “I know. And, you see, I love Amish life. But Jesse, do you really believe that our faith is the only one God recognizes?”

  The question stopped him. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the directness in which she posed it. Or maybe it was because he’d never really considered the validity of other faiths.

  When he didn’t reply, she offered a helpless lift of her palms. “I’m sorry if I’m out of line, asking you that.”

  Several heartbeats later, he responded with a shake of his head. “No. You’re not out of line at all, Anna. To be honest, I’ve never really given much thought to other churches.”

  He frowned. “I’ve heard people mention that they like to think outside the box. And of course, I’m sure our Lord and Savior loves everyone who believes in Him. John 3:16.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “I can’t imagine living any other way than Amish. At the same time, God is loving and kind. He created us all. And I think we just have to pray and use our best judgment about how we believe He wants us to serve Him. We’re all different.”

  “Jah. We are. Jesse, I’ve prayed about studying art for years. Like I said, it’s the only bond I have with my real mamma. At the end of the day, there’s a reason God blessed me with the ability to sketch.” She offered a dismissive shrug and locked gazes with Jesse. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m praying for God to help me take the right path. And to be completely honest, that could very well be not joining the Amish church.”

  * * *

  That afternoon, the earthy smell of freshly cut alfalfa filled Jesse’s nostrils as he took in Paul King’s garden from the field. Only a portion of Paul’s farmland was used for this crop, which would feed the cattle this winter. The scent was far from sweet and flowery.

  The fresh alfalfa fragrance was what Jesse considered to be a country ambience. And the plant’s aroma produced a sense of familiar comfort throughout his entire body.

  As the bright sun caressed his face, he considered how his life had changed within the past twenty-four hours. Since getting to know Anna, a girl he’d been acquainted with most of his life, he was wondering things that had never piqued his curiosity before.

  He contemplated the unusual conversation he’d had with Paul King’s tochter that very morning. As a breeze gently caressed his moist brow, he realized how thirsty he was. It was time to stop to give the horses an apple, too. He realized that many of his Amish friends looked at animals as merely a means to getting things done. Maybe some of Dr. Zimmerman, the local veterinarian, had rubbed off on Jesse because to him, animals meant much more. He considered them a blessing and offered them the best care he could. He figured that God would protect him if he looked after the least of God’s creatures. In fact, the book of Revelations even mentioned horses in heaven.

  “Whoa! Whoa!”

  He tightened the reins and moved his feet farther apart to better balance himself while he came to a bumpy stop. The horses snorted. He smiled a little.

  Because he was new at working for Paul King, this particular team didn’t know him. But from experience, he guessed they would catch on to his routine quickly. A stop meant a treat. And this morning, Maemm had stuffed a Baggie of sliced apples in both pockets of his work pants.

  He focused on balance because it was more difficult to stand on the platform while moving at a slower speed. Finally, they stopped, and he stepped off, careful to keep away from the sharp blade behind him.

  There was only room for necessities, and of course, sliced apples. It would be impossible to give the horses water because each animal could drink up to five gallons a day.

  He plopped down on the field and stretched his legs. As he downed a bottle of water, Anna floated through his thoughts. He wasn’t sure why she was encompassing so much of his time, but he finally figured out there were many reasons.

  He lifted an inquisitive brow. On one hand, he wasn’t used to conversing with Amish girls who were as driven to accomplish their dreams. At least, if they were, they didn’t tell him. And when he considered what would follow if Anna won the contest, he let out a low whistle.

  Secondly, the more he got to know her, the more she intrigued him. The way she viewed things prompted him to take a closer look at his faith and to appreciate how he’d been raised. When he considered her moving to St. Louis to an entirely different way of life, he narrowed his brows in concern.

  He certainly wasn’t a biblical scholar. But in his heart, Jesse was sure God didn’t care if he rode in a horse-pulled buggy or drove a car. Knowing our Lord and Savior is the key to getting to heaven.

  He flattened his palms against his thighs and narrowed his brows while he took in what was around him. Horses. Cut alfalfa. White fluffy clouds that were scattered throughout the deep blue sky. The Kings’ yard. Other houses miles away.

  Even though the land was still moist from the rain, the hot sun had done a good job of drying the earth enough for him to work the field. The rain had been a much-needed blessing.

  But unfortunately, with rain came mosquitos. Like he’d said to Anna yesterday, sometimes bad accompanied good, and vice versa.

  Still, Anna’s mention of a four-year degree and leaving the Amish faith whirled in his head until he shook it to rid it of the chaos. When he’d first glimpsed the contest entry, he’d merely taken it at face value. He hadn’t begun to consider the repercussi
ons if she won. But their last conversation had left him with a lot to think about.

  Focus on what’s gut. That’s what Maemm always says. Worrying about things that haven’t happened is a waste of time. And what Anna’s about to undertake? It’s not really terrible, is it?

  He wasn’t sure. As they turned at the end of the field, Jesse had a bird’s-eye view of the Kings’ typical Amish yard.

  He glimpsed their garden with neat, even rows of vegetables. The storm had damaged some of the plants. Different colors of towels and linens hung from the clothesline, moving up and down with the breeze.

  A propane tank sat next to the house. Cattle grazed in the pasture. The large backyard was littered with goats and chickens.

  A spare buggy parked near the house by the long dirt lane led out to the blacktop road. The humble, familiar scene in the distance prompted the corners of his lips to lift a notch.

  As he took in the fields of corn, beans, and alfalfa, a sense of calmness and security swept up his arms and landed at the tops of his shoulders.

  And he let out a satisfied breath. There’s nothing like this. It’s God’s country. And I’m blessed.

  Chapter Four

  Later that day, Anna breathed in the scent of freshly cut alfalfa as quick steps took her to her special sketching place: Pebble Creek. That wasn’t its official name, but it was common knowledge that Annie and Levi Miller had coined it years ago. She’d never told her parents she sketched. She considered it a private blessing.

  The actual creek went on for miles, and fortunately for Anna, it touched the edge of her family’s property. From where she was, she could glimpse the out-of-place hill where the late Old Sam Beachy had asked his beloved Esther for her hand in marriage. The very place that Levi Miller had asked Annie Mast to spend the rest of her life with him.

  That very realization made her draw in a wistful breath, and she stopped for a moment. She had gotten out of bed an hour earlier this morning in hopes of finding time to draw.

  As she walked, she considered the contest and her longtime plan for a four-year degree. The whinny of a horse interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to her left.