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The rolling countryside formed a patchwork of green tucked neatly within fertile mountains and valleys of Pennsylvania. Adam savored the walk home, in the still tranquility of their world—hidden in plain sight.
No wires or rushing vehicles to detract from the evening view. No blasting music or sirens. He couldn’t bear the thought of calling any other place home.
At thirty-seven years old, he ranked as an infant in the eyes of their species. His mate’s age would revert to her prime the moment she transitioned, but he should prepare for the possibility that she might be older than him.
As he continued home, he laid out a plan in his head. He’d locate his mate, complete the bond, and return as soon as possible. Seemed simple enough, but the Amish had a saying, there was a difference between good, sound reason and reasons that sounded good. Explaining his situation and what he was to an English female... Cain was right. Nothing about this journey would be simple.
The gate at the front of the picket fence squeaked as he stepped into the yard. His long strides covered the path in four quick steps and he bounded up the porch stairs.
Removing his hat, he entered his family home.
“It’s about time,” his younger sister, Grace, scolded by way of greeting. “You know, some of us are hungry.”
Some, not all. His finicky appetite was shriveling. While blood was full of important vitamins and minerals, without fats his system wouldn’t absorb all its benefits. Their diet required a consistent balance of unrefined iron only found in blood and animal protein to remain at top strength. But food also nourished their bodies, providing minerals not found in blood.
He brushed a kiss on Grace’s head. “I apologize. You should’ve started without me.”
“I told you he’d be late,” Cain said, reaching for a steaming dinner roll. “I don’t know why you insisted on waiting.”
Their mother slapped the roll out of his hand. “Patience, Cain. Give Adam a chance to sit. And we must wait for your father.”
Abilene Hartzler, mother of four and tireless matriarch of their home, had never been a soft touch when it came to maintaining order. Their father was the head of the house, but she was the heart—she beat good and strong when needed, but she also loved unconditionally.
A gentle and obedient wife, she’d always been a beloved member of their community and devoted mother. Despite her efforts to raise a large family, she’d only managed three successful pregnancies, two with daughters and one with twin sons.
Some whispered her misfortunes were a result of marrying for love rather than having the patience to wait for God’s calling. Their parents were not bonded, therefore they did not receive the same respect as other couples in the order. But they weren’t alone.
Marriages were often conducted out of convenience, for the simple purpose of procreating future generations. Practices were traditionally Amish, leaving the selection to the male and the final decision to the Elders. Seen as a contract upheld until death—something their kind rarely faced—marriages were never entered into lightly. However, there was another way to dissolve a marriage within their species, something his parents prayed never to face. Just like him, even a married immortal would never possess the strength to ignore a calling. Only that or death could dissolve a marriage among their kind and he hoped his parents never faced either.
He settled into the seat beside Grace. “Did you get outside today, Mother?”
Dark circles marked her eyes, but he thought he noticed an improvement in her color. Despite their rapid healing, some wounds—emotional wounds—could not be rushed to heal.
“I swept the porch and sat in the sun for a while, catching up on my needle work.”
Sleep and feeding were crucial to heal. The last time she’d lost a babe it had taken a little over a year for her to regain her vigor and usual beauty. Heartache had diminished her appetite, but she never failed to sit with them for a meal. His mother valued their family above all else. She loved and protected each one fiercely—exactly why Adam wanted to protect her now while she was weak.
“Perhaps Larissa will bring you a grandbaby to love this year,” Grace offered with a smile and Cain flinched.
His brother was closest to Larissa. Her marriage was not a love match or a calling, simply a matter of convenience and one Adam never expected. It surprised him she was not yet with child, but he’d never comment on such a private matter.
“That would be a lovely gift,” their mother agreed, but her smile failed to reach her toffee eyes.
Most females enjoyed centuries of childbearing years, yet his parents ceased to create new life after Grace had been born twenty-one years ago. Their kind rarely faced health issues. However, there were rare cases like his mother, who had been pregnant twelve times, yet only experienced three successful births.
Adam closed his hand over his mother’s and squeezed lovingly. This would be a difficult and familiar journey.
“It was a beautiful afternoon,” Grace commented, meeting their mother’s stare with an affectionate one of her own.
“Should I ring the bell for father again?” Cain asked, his impatience palpable.
“No need.” Jonas entered the room and a wave of shame drifted from their mother knocking the wind out of Adam’s chest.
Jonas settled into his seat at the head of the table and they bowed their heads in a silent prayer.
The sacred bond of marriage was privately navigated between man and wife. Children and outsiders were not permitted to comment on such business. And although Adam suffered his mother’s pain greater than the rest, he had to suffer in silence. His empathy acted as a magnet, drawing him close to others only to abruptly push him away with the subtlest shift of emotion. He was grateful the others couldn’t feel her suffering the way he could.
“Let us eat,” their father announced, and Cain was the first to dig in. “Did you re-shoe the horses today?”
“Yes,” Cain answered over a mouthful of food.
“And what of the east field, Adam?”
He hesitated, the food tasting as bitter as a lie on his tongue. “I was mending the wheels for the buggy most of the day.”
His father paused, his brow kinked as he met his stare. “The entire day?”
Before Adam could swallow his food and form an excuse, Grace gasped. He realized too late he failed to guard his thoughts. The clatter of silverware stilled as prickling curiosity bore into him.
“Adam?”
He met his father’s inquisitive stare, wincing at the sharp barb of concern flowing from him.
Grace’s fork and knife trembled as she lowered them to the table. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, the throb of her regret churning with his parent’s worry. Cain was the only one not pummeling Adam with emotions, as he stuffed his face.
Their species possessed telepathy on varying levels, an ability mainly used for survival and limited to human interactions. His sister’s gifts excelled beyond the norm and if he hadn’t been so drained, his thoughts would have been concealed better.
He placed a hand over hers and squeezed. “It’s all right, sister. I let my guard slip.”
“Adam?” their father repeated, understanding that Grace must have overheard something concerning.
Their mother peered across the table. “Did something happen?”
“It is fine, Mother. Everything’s fine.”
Cain let out a quiet puff of laughter as he shoveled another mouthful of mashed potatoes passed his lips.
Their father turned his frown to Grace. “Grace?”
“I...” Wide pleading eyes shifted to Adam. “You have to tell them.”
This wasn’t how he hoped to share his news, but he was running out of time. His shoulders lowered. “I’ve been called.”
His mother gasped, her silverware clattering to the plate as his father’s nerves spiked and swelled about the room. “Are you certain?”
Adam nodded. “I have no doubt. I meant to tell you tonight after supper.” He glanced to Grace who wore a stricken mix of guilt and excitement. “But Gracie beat me to it.”
Silence engulfed the kitchen as the significance of such news settled in. Finally, his father said, “You’ll leave tonight.”