Amish Sweethearts

  © 2016 by Leslie Gould

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-6932-4

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by John Hamilton Design

  Author represented by MacGregor Literary, Inc.

  For our friends Col. John J. McGraw, retired, and Ann McGraw, two extraordinary people who serve so many,

  including me and mine.

  CONTENTS

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Leslie Gould

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  PROLOGUE

  May 2010

  Lila Lehman yanked the chickweed from between the rows of beans as her thoughts drifted to Zane Beck, once again. Against her will. If only she thought about Reuben Byler half as much as she did Zane. Tossing the weeds into the pile on the grass, she tucked her dress around her knees and sank down into the furrowed soil.

  Reuben was going to pick her up in an hour to go for a drive in his new courting buggy. Why was she thinking about Zane?

  Her Dat, her grandparents, and Reuben’s father—who just happened to be the bishop—all thought she and Reuben were a good match. And they were right.

  Reuben was kind and helpful, with a caring heart. He’d be good to her and any children they might have. She couldn’t make her family any happier—especially her father—than by marrying Reuben.

  But instead of thinking about him, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from Zane. Or from all they’d shared over the last nearly six years. She thought of the books they’d read together. The world events he’d talked about. The poetry they’d memorized. He’d won her heart with his enthusiasm. He embraced her Amish community, even when he didn’t truly belong. He questioned everything and never stopped talking—about what interested him, about Lila and her family, about his parents and brother, about his studies, his teachers, the universe. He’d made her world so much bigger.

  What would she have thought about if she’d never known him? The latest gossip? Recipes? Housework? Certainly not global concerns, history, and literature. Her life would be so empty.

  The first time she’d seen Zane, standing at the field gate, she’d found him fascinating. The way he stood—as if he belonged when he obviously didn’t. The way he flicked his bangs away from his face. The way he carried himself—like a grown-up even though he was still a boy.

  She had no idea, all those years ago, how much it would hurt to watch him grow into a man. To see him change in such appealing ways. To have him share with her and want to hear her opinions. To value what she had to say, even though she only had an eighth-grade education. Sure, Zane could be intense, and there were times when he acted too sure of himself. He’d say he was decisive—but she sensed he was often confused and unsure. That was where Reuben was much more dependable—but then again, he was also four years older than Zane. True, Reuben had gone through an awkward phase, but he’d always been sure of what he wanted.

  The warmth of the soil radiated up from the ground. She gazed toward the sun, shielding her eyes with her hand and began to quote Wordsworth.

  “What though the radiance which was once so bright

  Be now for ever taken from my sight. . . .”

  A rustling stopped her. Probably her younger brother, Simon, sneaking up on her again. Or maybe her twin, Daniel. Mortified, she stumbled to her feet, brushed her hands against her apron, and straightened her Kapp. No one was in front of her. She spun around.

  Zane stood at the gate, his honey-blond hair pushed back on his forehead. He wore jeans and a white T-shirt, the sleeves tight against his biceps. Lila kept her expression blank, trying not to let on how much she’d missed him. Or how her heart raced.

  He grinned and started quoting the poem from where she’d stopped.

  “Though nothing can bring back the hour

  Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower. . . .”

  The words hung between them, in the stillness of the warm spring day. The breeze stirred up the earthy scent of the soil. A honeybee buzzed among the squash blossoms.

  For a moment Lila considered leaving the garden, taking Zane’s hand, and leading him to their childhood fort. Beside the creek, in the shade of the poplar trees, they could step back in time. She could almost feel the mud between her toes.

  She exhaled. Meeting together at the fort was no longer a possibility. Everything had changed in the last year. She and Zane hadn’t talked at all since February, since her sister Trudy’s sixth birthday party. He’d gone on and on about his college plans—someplace in Michigan. At first Lila didn’t understand. For the longest time he hadn’t wanted to talk about the future at all. He’d said he never wanted things to change. He wanted to keep living on Juneberry Lane forever. So she was annoyed with Zane for talking about college at all and then bragging about going, but as he continued she was devastated by the fact that he really would leave. Her best friend would soon be gone—forever.

  Zane opened the gate and grinned again. “I have great news.”

  She tilted her head.

  “I wanted to tell you first. I found out I got a scholarship, nearly a full ride. It was announced at our debate today.”

  He really was leaving. Lila struggled to speak and finally asked, “What did you debate?”

  “The Iraq War.”

  “For or against?”

  “For,” he answered.

  She couldn’t even force herself to smile. “But you’re a pacifist.” At least that’s what he’d been saying for the last four years, much to his father’s chagrin.

  His expression hardened. “Maybe I’m not.” What had changed in him in the last few months? He used to think it took courage to be a pacifist, to take a stand against war. Had he flip-flopped on his principles?

  At least he was going to college—and not into the military right out of high school, as his father had. At least he was committing to something.

  Zane stepped closer. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. . . . I think I was too quick to judge before. Especially about the Army.”

  Lila gasped. “It w
ould kill your mother if you signed up.”

  He shook his head. “Who said anything about signing up?” He frowned. “But I’m not a coward.”

  “Really?” Her heart ached. What had happened to her friend?

  Zane crossed his arms. He knew Lila wasn’t implying he was a coward if he didn’t join the Army. He knew, in fact, she’d think him a coward if he did. But he also knew she believed he lacked courage because he’d stopped being her friend, without saying a word to her. After Trudy’s party, when he’d been a jerk by going on and on about college in front of her and her whole family, he’d stopped sharing his lessons with her. He stopped wandering over to say hello. He stopped going down to their fort.

  Zane had boasted about college that day because it had hurt to see her with Reuben. It made his heart ache to watch her serving him cake and coffee and then clearing his plate and cup. It had physically pained him to witness the way Reuben looked at her.

  So Zane had started talking—and then couldn’t seem to stop. He wasn’t even looking forward to going to college, but he wanted to have something in his future to focus on. He was so embarrassed by his drivel that he’d avoided her after that though, thinking the time apart might help him feel more settled. Until today. He’d worked up enough courage to share his good news—and his new idea.

  All he wanted was for her to listen. To understand.

  “I need to go,” Lila said.

  “Wait.” Zane swallowed. “Please.”

  He’d had an argument with his dad the night before. Maybe it would devastate his mom if he joined the Army, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt his father. He’d challenged Zane, telling him he shouldn’t go to college if he didn’t know why he was going. “You need to commit to something,” he’d said. “Something you can make a living at. I knew at eighteen the military was right for me. Don’t go to college unless you’re sure.”

  When Zane joked that maybe he’d sign up, his dad told him not to bother, that he wasn’t soldier material. His dad would know. He’d been in the Army full-time, and then once he was medically retired he’d started working for the Veterans Affairs in Lancaster. He knew soldiers and was right in saying Zane wouldn’t make a good one.

  But his words left Zane unsure about everything. About going to Michigan. About what to study. About what he wanted to do to make a living. He couldn’t seem to come to a decision and stick with it. He thought the scholarship would make a difference, but now standing in front of Lila, faced with losing her, it didn’t. Not at all.

  Lila turned to the sound of a buggy coming up the driveway. “He’s early.”

  “Who’s early?”

  “Reuben.”

  Zane’s heart fell. He’d been foolish to try and talk with her.

  Lila turned back toward him, started to say something, stopped, and then said, “Just a minute.”

  She stepped to the driveway and called out a hello to Reuben. He pulled the horse and buggy up beside her and then waved. “What do you need?” he shouted to Zane.

  “I was hoping to talk with Lila.”

  “Go on inside,” Lila said to him. “There’s a pie on the counter for you—banana cream.”

  Zane called out, “It’ll only take a minute.”

  Lila turned toward him and shook her head. “Nothing with you only takes a minute.”

  Zane swallowed. He hated it when Lila was snippy. But he deserved it. “It really won’t take long,” he said. “I promise.”

  Without responding, Lila turned back to Reuben. Zane looked away, not wanting to witness an intimate glance between them. Or a mutual one of annoyance—with him.

  But then Reuben called out to Zane again, saying, “All right.”

  Zane waved and Reuben urged his horse on toward the hitching post as Lila stepped toward the gate.

  Zane held it open for her and motioned down the field toward their old fort.

  She shook her head. “Let’s talk here.” She pulled the gate shut, staying on her side.

  Zane leaned over the top rail, toward her. He tried to keep the hurt from his voice. “So are you and Reuben officially courting?”

  Lila rammed her fists into the pockets of her apron. “We’re going to go for a ride.”

  Zane stood up straight. “Who else would you court, right? Everyone’s always wanted the two of you to get together.”

  Lila didn’t respond, but he knew he was right. “Would you at least walk with me?” His muscles tightened as he spoke.

  She met his eyes. “Just tell me what you want.”

  He exhaled. “I’d thought taking some time apart would be good—so we both could see how we felt. But I missed you a lot. Even more than I thought I . . .”

  She pursed her lips.

  “I had this idea that maybe you could come to Michigan too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “There are Amish communities there,” he quickly added. “I thought maybe you could get a job at a shop or something.”

  “Why?”

  His face grew warm. “So we’d be closer.”

  Lila shifted her weight, leaning away from him. “And then what?”

  He shrugged. “I thought we could figure it out . . .”

  “Figure it out?” Her voice escalated. “What is there to figure out?”

  “I thought . . .” Zane swallowed. “I thought maybe we could . . .”

  She stepped back and crossed her arms.

  He swung the gate open again. “Please walk with me. I don’t want your whole family to hear us.” Most importantly, he didn’t want Reuben to hear.

  She hesitated a moment but then passed through, just as she had countless times before.

  As they walked, Zane said, “Are you and Reuben planning to marry soon?” She was only seventeen—young even for an Amish girl. But she could easily marry in a year or two.

  “Does it matter?” she asked, her eyes focused on the poplar trees ahead of them.

  Zane cleared his throat and then said, “I’ve been thinking.” She’d often teased him about his thoughts, but she’d always been willing to listen to them. “About my future. About you. About us . . .”

  When they reached the trail to the fort, he gestured for her to go first, but she shook her head. He reached for her right hand.

  “Lila,” he said as his other hand fell to the small of her back. He pulled her close. She didn’t pull away.

  Time stopped. This was where they belonged. Through the gate, between their homes. Just as it had been all these years.

  His heart raced. “Come to Michigan with me.”

  She pulled away. “That’s impossible.”

  Why had he bothered to try? He didn’t have a chance with Lila. Whatever they’d had was over. He couldn’t stand the thought of her marrying. He had to get away from Juneberry Lane, the sooner the better. He couldn’t stay and watch her court Reuben—not even for the summer.

  Lila rubbed her palms together. It had felt so good to have her hand in Zane’s again—for a split second. But she’d come to her senses. She couldn’t court Reuben with Zane around. He needed to go to Michigan, without her. The sooner the better. Her only hope to get him out of her heart was to get him out of her life.

  She tipped her head away from him. She’d never felt so ferhoodled. And Zane had frustrated her plenty of times before.

  Lila’s mother hadn’t left the Amish, not even when she became pregnant by an Englisch man. Not even after she had Lila and Daniel. Lila would never leave either. She couldn’t disappoint her father like that, not the man who had raised her even after her mother died. She would never do that to her Dat, not after everything he’d done for her. She’d never do it to her mother’s memory either. Both her parents would want her to join the church.

  She must be strong, like her mother, and let Zane go.

  He bent toward her. “Do you still think about uns?”

  Her eyes began to swim. He’d used the Pennsylvania Dutch word for us. She’d taught him that word, along with every other word s
he could think of until he was fluent in her language. How dare he use it now?

  Anger overcame her sadness. She blinked her tears away. “There is no us. Don’t you get it?” The force behind her words surprised her. “We weren’t meant for anything more than childhood friends. We’re grown now. It’s over.”

  Zane stepped back from her outburst.

  Without meeting his eyes, she said through clenched teeth, “Go away. To Michigan. Or somewhere else. The farther the better.”

  He balled his hands into fists. “Maybe I will join the Army.”

  “Right,” she answered, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice. He’d never do that, regardless of his earlier bravado. It was just more of his talk, of his inability to commit. He was so unlike Reuben.

  His biceps flexed under the sleeves of his T-shirt. “I’ll go much farther than Michigan.”

  “Good,” she said. She didn’t care where he went. As long as it wasn’t in Lancaster County.

  He turned abruptly and marched away from her. She waited, half hoping for a moment that he’d return. She’d apologize. They’d go down to their fort together. She’d say she didn’t mean what she’d said.

  But he disappeared behind the hedge at the end of the field.

  Both relief and sadness rushed through her as she swiped her fingers under her eyes. How could she be so frustrated with Zane and so heartbroken at the same time?

  “Lila!” Reuben stood at the gate waiting for her, his thumbs looped in his suspenders. Under the brim of his black hat, she imagined his eyes were still kind—although probably a little impatient too.

  “Coming,” she called out.

  As she made her way to the gate, she whispered the next line of the Wordsworth poem.

  “We will grieve not, rather find

  Strength in what remains behind . . .”

  She wasn’t sure what remained. But hopefully she would find her strength in Reuben.

  1

  December 2012

  Zane pulled his truck into the gas station, figuring he might as well fill up and delay arriving at his parents’ house for a little while longer. He jumped down, inhaled the icy air, and rubbed his bare hands together. He’d been away from Pennsylvania for the last two and a half years—for basic in Oklahoma and then more training in Texas—and had missed the winters. He had ten days to enjoy the cold.