Courting Her Secret Heart. Mary Davis

thinking of myself. I have a habit of doing that. Danki.”

      He smiled. “Bitte.” He liked that he could help her and appreciated her honesty. Something he’d found lacking in others.

      She waved her mittened hand in the air. “Shall we go?”

      He lifted the reins but then paused and handed them over to her. “You can drive.”

      The smile she gifted him with and the spark in her green eyes as she took the reins warmed him all over.

       Chapter Two

      Amos sat forward on the buggy seat as the Miller farm came into view. What would people think of him not driving? He was the man, after all. He should be driving. Instinct told him to take the reins, but something held him back. He gritted his teeth, hoping no one would be out in the yard.

      Deborah pulled on one rein and slackened the other to turn into the driveway.

      Though several buggies, the chickens and two cats were scattered about the yard, fortunately no people were in sight.

      She stopped the buggy in front of the house. “Do you mind putting this away by yourself? I want to see how my vater’s doing.”

      He gladly took the offered reins. “I’d be happy to.” He breathed easier having the strips of leather in his hands. How foolish of him, but he couldn’t help feeling that way. “Tell your vater not to worry about the animals. I’ll take care of everything.”

      “Danki. But I think he probably still has enough pain medication in him to not worry about much of anything right now.” She jogged up the porch steps and into the house.

      He stared at the door for a moment, feeling a sense of loss. But that couldn’t be. He hadn’t lost anything. At least not anything new. With a shake of his head, he drove the buggy to the barn. After unhitching the horse, he put the animal in a stall, then parked the buggy in its space inside the barn. Being an open buggy, it needed to be protected from the elements. With the harness put away, he brushed down the horse and fed him.

      His encounter with his cousin Jacob played in his head. He needed to get off his vater’s farm and experience the outside world more than he had on Rumspringa, with a different purpose this time. If he wasn’t going to have land to farm and would have to work in the Englisher world anyway, he might as well live there, too, and be a part of it.

      Amos would have left the first time when Jacob suggested it if there had been some place for him to go, but today was a different matter. The image of Deborah standing on the edge of her family at the hospital tugged at his heart. She needed him. This family needed him. Bartholomew needed him. And he needed them so he wouldn’t have to be on his family’s farm until he left for gut. This would make the wait more bearable.

      He heard the humming of a female enter the barn. Deborah? He peeked out of the stall he was in as someone disappeared into the stall with the milking cow, but he couldn’t tell who. He brushed down the front of his coat and trousers to remove hay particles, then stepped into the stall doorway.

      Miriam glanced up at him with a smile from where she sat on a three-legged stool. “Hallo, Amos Burkholder.”

      His smile sagged a bit. “Hallo.” This was gut that it wasn’t Deborah. He shouldn’t be thinking of her. “Your job to milk the cow?”

      She leaned her head against the animal’s side and began the task with a swish-swish-swish. “Ja.”

      “Do you and your sisters trade off with this duty?”

      “Ne, I like milking. There is something soothing about it. It’s just me and Sybil.”

      “I’m sorry. Would you like me to go away?”

       “Ne.”

      He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not at having to stay. “Tell me about your sisters.”

      “What do you want to know?”

      “I don’t know. I figure if I’m going to be working on your farm, I should know a little about everyone.”

      She nodded. “Hannah and Lydia are twins—identical. Hannah is the ultraresponsible one. Lydia is the peacemaker. They are both being courted and will likely get married this fall. Then comes me. A lot of people say I’m the positive one. I do try to see the gut in situations.”

      That was not how Deborah had described her. What was it she had said? That Miriam liked a lot of boys. Likely, there wasn’t one young man in particular who had caught her attention yet.

      “Then Deborah. After her comes Joanna. She’s the gut one. Not that the rest of us aren’t gut, but she was an easy baby and has always been easy to please. She’s also quite shy. Naomi’s thirteen and can be moody. She likes to be the center of attention. And lastly is carefree baby Sarah at eight. She is easily everyone’s favorite, and the sweetest of us all.”

      Everyone got a description except Deborah. “What about Deborah?”

      “What about her?”

      “You gave everyone a little description except her.”

      “Did I? Hmm. Deborah is...irres—rarely here.”

      Was she about to say irresponsible? True, Deborah hadn’t been around when her vater had been hurt, but that didn’t necessarily make her irresponsible.

      When Miriam finished milking, Amos hoisted the full bucket and carried it to the house.

      Miriam opened the door to the kitchen and allowed him to enter first. The kitchen bustled with female activity. He was used to just his mutter in the kitchen, alone, doing all the work by herself.

      Deborah looked up from her task of churning butter with the youngest girl and smiled at him.

      He responded in kind.

      Her gaze flickered away from him to where Miriam appeared, and Deborah’s smile faltered, then she pushed her mouth up in a less genuine smile, but one of encouragement.

      He wished he could bring back that first smile. What had caused the change? More important, how could he bring back the first smile?

      “Right this way, Amos.” Miriam motioned with her hand for him to follow her. “That goes in the back fridge until morning.”

      Amos aimed his apologetic shrug toward Deborah as he obediently complied. When he returned, Deborah’s mutter stood in his path.

      Teresa Miller put her hands on her hips and gave him an impish smile. “We do so love company, but you can’t walk through my kitchen without introducing yourself.”

      “I’m Amos Burkholder.”

      “Which one of my daughters are you courting?”

      “Um, none. I’m here to help out on the farm while Bartholomew is healing.”

      Shock and concern wiped away the older woman’s smile in an instant. “What? What’s wro—”

      One of the older girls hooked her arm around her mutter’s shoulders and escorted her out of the kitchen. “Let’s go see how Vater is doing.”

      Another of the older sisters stood in front of him. “Supper will be ready in a little bit. We’ll call you when it’s ready.”

      This must be Lydia, the peacemaker. The one who left with their mutter must have been Hannah, the ultraresponsible one. Or it could be vice versa. He wasn’t sure. He nodded and went back outside to finish up some chores.

      Soon, another one of the sisters came out to retrieve him. “Supper’s ready.” She kept her head down.

      “Danki.