Second Chance Amish Bride. Marta Perry

wasn’t easy to hold back when Zeb gave him the look that said he’d be disappointed in Caleb if he didn’t go. So he supposed he’d be hauling himself into the pony cart tomorrow.

      But as for his uncle’s other expectation—well, why should he be interested in finding out more about Jessie’s life? She’d be gone soon enough, anyway, and he wouldn’t have to think about her at all. That would suit him fine, wouldn’t it?

      * * *

      Jessie brought the pony cart up to the bottom of the ramp on Saturday. She’d been wryly amused at the expression on Caleb’s face when he’d realized he’d have to let her help him get to Sam and Leah’s, since Zeb and Daniel, along with Thomas, had gone as soon as they’d eaten breakfast.

      She stopped the black-and-white pony so that the cart was directly in front of Caleb waiting in his wheelchair. Timothy and Becky were on either side of him, Timothy bouncing up and down in excitement.

      “Here we are.” Jessie hopped out of the cart and scooted around the wheelchair. “I think it will work best if the chair is right next to the cart seat.” She moved it into position as she spoke and then set the brake.

      Caleb didn’t say anything, but he looked as if he held quite a few words back. He reached out for the cart. She intercepted him.

      “Better let Becky get up there first, and she can steady the cast and help lift it in. Right, Becky?”

      “For sure.” She was already scrambling in, eager to help her daadi.

      “Me, too.” Timothy pouted.

      “We need you to hold the chair steady so it doesn’t wobble when Daadi pushes off it. You think you can?” Jessie asked.

      “Sure. I’m strong.” He seized the arm of the wheelchair and planted both feet, gritting his teeth.

      “I can swing myself over.” Caleb sounded for all the world like his son. He grasped the rail on the cart seat. It was lower than a buggy, but still higher than the wheelchair.

      “A little extra help never hurts.” Before he could object, Jessie slid her arm around him. “Ready? Go.”

      She hadn’t given him time to argue, but she felt him stiffen, probably not liking her so close.

      And they were close, very much so. Caleb grasped her shoulder with his free hand, his body pressing against hers for what seemed a long moment. Fighting not to react, Jessie concentrated on lifting him. Becky grabbed the cast, and in a moment Caleb was seated in the pony cart, breathing heavily.

      She was breathless, too, but not from the exertion. She hadn’t expected—well, whatever it was she’d felt when she’d held him against her.

      Nothing, she told herself fiercely, and knew it wasn’t true. It seemed the feelings that had been aroused that long-ago afternoon were still there, ready to flare up. Maybe that was why her mother feared coming here would hurt her.