His Amish Choice. Leigh Bale

shrugged as she gripped the serving bowl tighter, letting the soup warm her chilled hands. “That was a long time ago.”

      “Are you still friends with him now that he’s returned?” Abby peered at her, as though looking deep inside her heart.

      Biting her bottom lip, Lizzie couldn’t meet Abby’s gaze.

      “Oh, Lizzie. I’m so sorry.” Abby squeezed her arm. “His return must be difficult for you. And to have him working at your farm every day... But don’t forget to keep an open heart and have faith. Gott will care for you both and all will work out fine. I know it will.”

      Lizzie couldn’t manage to muster a smile in return. “I’m not so sure.”

      Resting her palm against her baby bump, Abby rubbed gently. “With my past history, I never would have believed Gott could make my life turn out so well. I thought I could never trust men and would never marry. But I soon learned that I was wrong. Give Gott a chance and He’ll work so many blessings in your life, just as He did mine.”

      Lizzie understood. Since her marriage to Jakob, Abby had confided that she’d been physically and verbally abused by her father and elder brother. Abby was so happy now and Lizzie was glad. But she almost dropped the serving bowl when Abby turned and headed straight over to the table where Eli was sitting.

      Breathing a sigh of resignation, Lizzie followed her friend, but couldn’t help wondering if this day could get any worse. She wanted to turn the other cheek. To forget her pain and humiliation and believe that Eli truly was back for good. But she couldn’t help thinking that Marva was right about one thing. Eli wouldn’t stay.

      * * *

      “When did you cut your leg on the hay baler?”

      Eli sat at the table next to Darrin Albrecht, their deacon. The autumn sun beat down on the men, but they’d each removed their black felt hats for their noon meal. They spoke in companionable friendship, waiting as the women set the food before them.

      A rather hefty and somber man, Darrin was middle-aged with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair and a long beard to match. As the deacon, it was his job to assist the bishop in disciplinary issues, to ensure that all members of the Gmay were following the rules of the Ordnung and to announce upcoming marriages.

      “It’s been two months since it happened and it wasn’t even a bad cut. I can’t understand why it’s taking so long to heal,” Darrin said.

      Out of his peripheral vision, Eli caught sight of Lizzie standing just behind his left shoulder. She held a large, steaming dish, the aroma tantalizing. He leaned back, giving her and Abby room to scoop soup into his bowl. Along with the other women, they worked in silence, seeing to everyone’s needs before their own. Glancing up, he saw Lizzie’s face looked pale. She’d been in the kitchen earlier and he couldn’t help wondering if she agreed with Marva Geingerich’s opinion of him.

      He clamped a hard will on his anger. When he’d returned, he’d known he might face disapproval from some of his people. It didn’t change anything. He wanted to be here. And that meant he must exercise self-discipline, control his feelings and remain passive in the face of adversity. It’s what the Lord would want him to do.

      “Are you all right?” he asked Lizzie, worried that she and his mother were both overly upset by what had transpired.

      “Ja, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Before he could answer, she ducked her head and moved on to Deacon Albrecht’s bowl.

      Turning, Eli faced Darrin. “May I see your wound?”

      He was conscious of Lizzie moving to the other side of the table as she served the other men, still close enough to overhear his conversation.

      Beneath the table, Darrin hiked up his homemade pant leg to the knee. A gauze bandage had been affixed to the side of his lower calf with white tape. Eli ducked down and Darrin lifted the gauze to reveal a thin, jagged cut no more than an inch long. Though it didn’t look deep, the wound was swollen and angry red.

      “Ach, I have no doubt it’s infected.” Eli wasn’t a medical doctor, but he recognized a septic injury when he saw one.

      “Norma cleans it for me every day with hydrogen peroxide and ointment, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference.” Darrin pressed the bandage back in place and pulled his pant leg down.