Grace huddled on Jon’s bed, her face pressed into his pillow. Creaks sounded behind her, but she ignored them. If Zeke dared approach her after giving her a pity kiss, she’d…she’d…she didn’t know what she’d do. But it wouldn’t be pretty.
She gulped air and tried to focus on the words Daed had said yesterday when they’d gone on their walk and talked about her concerns about marrying Timothy. He’d offered advice on what she should do if he resurfaced for real, and on her new feelings for Zeke. A man so totally out of her reach it wasn’t funny.
“Look for what Gott might be teaching you, grow, and make choices based on what you’ve learned.” Daed’s words had confused her then, but he had added, “I’m not Gott. He’s the one you need to ask.”
She would, whenever she’d stopped crying long enough to pray.
The bed sagged behind her, and a hand rested on her shoulder.
She gasped and rolled over, prepared to give Zeke a piece of her mind. And maybe bop him with a pillow.
Daed. His gaze was sober, his eyes filled with shadows she didn’t recognize. They scared her.
“Jon…?” His name came out on a wail.
“Oh, honey. I don’t know. I came to ask if you want to come with us to the hospital. The driver will be here in a few minutes.”
“Jah, I would. Danki.”
Daed pulled in a deep breath. “I, uh, caught Zeke packing.”
Grace caught her breath. “What? Why?”
Daed grimaced. “Something about he kissed you, you kissed him, you kissed each other.”
He’d told Daed? How could he? She sniffled. “Fine. He can go. He’s a jerk. It was a pity kiss.”
“So you’re over your earlier feelings for him? You pity him?” Daed frowned and shook his head.
“What? No! Why would you ask such a thing?” Grace ignored the first question. Her feelings for Zeke were a confusing jumble.
“Zeke said you kissed him first.”
Grace’s face heated. And she had nothing to say. Nothing.
“He’s not here to date, Gracie.”
“I know,” she whispered. “He’s made that clear.” And she’d told Daed that very thing when they talked yesterday.
Gravel crunched in the driveway and Daed stood. “If you’re coming, come quickly now.” He left the room.
Grace scrambled to her feet and ran after him.
As she followed Daed to the waiting van, men were going through the food line, piling their plates full of more of the leftover wedding food. Hopefully this would be the end of it. She was heartily sick of fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and that was more than she’d ever thought possible.
Zeke wasn’t anywhere in the line. Not that she was looking for him. Okay, she was. She found him standing beside Daadi Cliff and her brother Reuben in the unfinished barn. The three men stood in a circle. Heads bowed.
Her heart hurt. Zeke truly was a good man, and she was so needy. Desperate. High-maintenance. He probably didn’t have the foggiest of ideas what he was getting into when he climbed into the van in Shipshewana to come to Hidden Springs. Certainly he wouldn’t have expected a girl to be completely swept off her feet, fall madly into a crush with him, and then behave inappropriately.
He probably still didn’t know what he was getting into when he got out of the vehicle in front of the tree blocking the road and offered to help her.
And just twenty-five or twenty-six hours later, she’d fallen in love with him and proceeded to push him away. Lying about it being a crush. After kissing him. And after he made it clear he wasn’t here to date.
No wonder she’d gotten a pity kiss. And yet oh, what a kiss. If that was a pity kiss, what would a true kiss be like?
“Gracie.”
She forced her attention away from Zeke long enough to glance over her shoulder.
Daed stood by the open van door. “Are you coming?”
Oh. Right. They needed to go. She turned her back on the men and got into the van next to Mamm.
Daed slid the door shut and climbed into the front passenger seat.
When she came home, she owed Zeke another apology and…
Wait.
Daed said he was packing his bags.
She tried to contain a sob, but it escaped.
Zeke might not even be there when she returned.
She’d ruined her chances, and now when she came home, he’d be gone.
Probably for good.
* * *
Zeke bowed his head with Cliff and Reuben as they all prayed for Jon. And Zeke did pray for Jon, but his heart was troubled. He should have taken the time to pray about this mission trip before they’d left Shipshewana and for what Gott had planned for him to do instead of going into it blind. He should’ve made a decision about how he would act, planned as best as he could, prepped his mind for the possibilities he might face, and trusted Gott for the outcome. Maybe, if he’d taken the time to do that, he would’ve been better prepared emotionally and mentally and not so overwhelmed by the severity of the aftermath of the physical storm in addition to the effects of the ongoing emotional storm.
Of course, no amount of preparation and planning would’ve prepared him for Gracie.
Patience’s words came to mind. “Jesus, please calm the storm.” Jah, Lord. Please. Calm the Gracie storm, the Timothy storm, the Jon storm, and the other emotional storms I’m not remembering. Oh, and the storm waiting at home with Daed. And my impossible feelings for Gracie.
He blew out a breath of frustration. She deserved a good, solid man. Someone like dependable, perfect Vernon.
A hand landed firmly on his lower arm.
Zeke raised his head and opened his eyes.
Cliff stared back at him. “I’m sensing some negativity here. Positive thoughts, boy. Give it all to Gott.”
Right. And Zeke had gotten sidetracked from his tasked assignment—given by Reuben—to pray for Jon.
“Sorry. I’m having some trouble focusing.”
“That is obvious.” Cliff studied him, and Zeke stiffened his spine to avoid squirming. “Maybe it’d help you focus if you prayed out loud.”
Zeke shook his head to rid himself of troubling thoughts. “I’m fine.” He quickly dipped his head again and this time, prayed. Lord, touch Jon, help him to live, and heal him. Guide the doctor’s hands. Comfort his family and friends. Zeke included, Yet not my will but Thine be done. Amen.
He raised his head, as did the others.
“I’m going to get a bite to eat.” Cliff was already heading toward the end of the food line.
“I’m not hungry,” Reuben said, stating Zeke’s feelings.
Cliff stopped, turned. “Both of you need to eat something to keep your strength up. Come along, now.”
Reuben grimaced. “Daadi Cliff has spoken. We must obey.” There was a bit of sass in his voice.
Cliff put his hands on his hips. “I’ll have none of your lip, boy. You may be bigger than me, but I am still your elder.”
Reuben glanced at Zeke. “He talks tough, but as the oldest of the twelve brothers, my oldest child is as old as Patience—fourteen.”
“Jah, but that changes nothing. You’re still my grandson.” Cliff shifted his stance. “Come along, Zeke; we’ve got to get you away from this bad influence, teaching you that it’s okay to disrespect your elders.”
The mild arguing was probably meant to distract from the worry over Jon, because no one laughed or even cracked a smile. Their eyes were grim.
Zeke obediently got in line behind Cliff and Reuben. He’d force something down because Cliff was right. He needed to keep up his strength.
As he waited at the end of the line, he scanned the women serving them. Patience was there. He didn’t see Gracie, though.
He raised his gaze to her bedroom window. She’d probably gone to the hospital with her parents.
Lord, please let Jon live. And help me to solve the puzzle of Gracie.
* * *
Grace paced the floor in the huge emergency waiting room. Even though some Englisch people sat at the far end of the room near the television, she felt totally and completely alone. Mamm had stopped to use the restroom, and Daed had gone to talk to someone at the front counter.
Was Aubrey still with Jon? Or had she been rerouted to yet another waiting room?
Was Jon alive?
Grace pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes, willing the tears to stay at bay. It was surprising that no one had called her on being such a big baby, crying at every little thing ever since the tornado.
If only Gott would calm the storm. It’d be nice to sit in some peaceful spot, not worrying about the winds and the rain destroying her.
Emotionally, she was bruised and battered.
She dropped down into the nearest chair as Mamm bustled into the room. Mamm dropped her never-leave-home-without-it bag on the seat next to Grace and crossed the room to where Daed still stood at the counter.
Grace opened Mamm’s bag enough to peek in. Knitting. As upset as Grace was, she’d be dropping stitches constantly. Knitting wasn’t near as relaxing as Mamm claimed.
She picked up the Englisch magazine next to her and scanned the cover. Some man she’d never heard of was getting married to the mother of his love child. Whatever that was. Why did anyone even care? She returned that and picked up the next one. Someone else shared foolproof tricks on how to snare the man of your dreams.
Tricks and snare?
She could imagine Daed shaking his head in dismay and muttering something about what the world was coming to.
Still, she opened the cover, found the page number, and then glanced up to make sure Mamm and Daed weren’t coming.
The article talked about use of makeup, deep V-neck shirts, and high slits on the sides of dresses. Peekaboo shoulders. Whatever. Make him think of sex.
There was more to love and marriage than sex.
But then again, it hadn’t mentioned love or marriage. Just snaring and sex.
She turned the page. Tricks to perform better in bed.
Grace’s face burned as she closed the magazine and put it back. Nothing useful there. Instead, her mind felt soiled.
Underneath that was some kind of geographic magazine.
She opened that to a photo of a big-busted woman with no clothes on her top half. She carried a basket full of some sort of fruit on top of her head.
Grace shuddered. Maybe Daed’s opinion was right. What was the world coming to?
She dropped that magazine on top of the other discards and folded her hands on her lap. A sober-faced woman in purple scrubs admitted Mamm and Daed through a door off to the side.
The door shut behind them.
Nothing to read…except maybe a Gideon Bible. The TV in the corner was off. She was left alone with nothing to do except the one thing she desperately needed time alone to do. So no time like the present…
Grace bowed her head and started to pray.
Gott, please spare Jon’s life.
And help me sort out my own.
She didn’t know how long she prayed that same prayer over and over before another woman in yellow scrubs appeared. “Grace Lantz?”
She attempted to speak, but her voice cracked. Broke.
The woman’s gaze held compassion. “Follow me. I’ll take you to your family.”
Grace’s nose ran. She reached for a tissue, then realized her face was wet, so she grabbed another tissue.
“My brother. Is he…?” Her words were raw.
“I don’t know. The doctor was going to meet with your parents and your brother’s wife.”
Wife? Jon and Aubrey weren’t married yet. But she might’ve lied so she’d be allowed to stay by his side. Grace couldn’t blame her.
Grace grabbed Mamm’s abandoned knitting bag and followed the woman down a confusing maze to another waiting room. This one was much smaller, and she was all alone.
“Your family must be with the doctor. They’ll be back soon. Help yourself to coffee.” She pointed to a coffee maker on a small stand. Disposable cups were stacked beside it, and a basket full of stirrers, sugar, and powered creamer was next to that.
The woman was gone before Grace turned to thank her. But Grace didn’t want coffee. Even on her best days she detested the foul-tasting stuff, as she was reminded this morning.
And today was painfully obvious that it wasn’t anywhere close to being her best day.
She settled down next to another stack of magazines and picked up the top one. A cooking magazine. That one she could read.
By the time she’d finished the entire magazine and come up with a few new ideas, daylight had faded outside the windows. And still she waited…
Her brothers, Daadi Cliff, and Zeke filed in. They hadn’t bothered to clean up.
Zeke! He hadn’t left yet. She might’ve beamed. She lifted her hand in a tiny wave.
“Any word?” Daadi Cliff asked.
“Nothing. I haven’t even seen Mamm or Daed since we arrived.”
Daadi Cliff frowned and left the room.
Zeke crossed the room and sat beside her. “Are you okay?”
She reached for his hand and clung, unable to answer. Pity kiss or not, she craved his strength.