An Amish Honor Page 8

  “It was crazy at times, for sure. But Dad tried his best to keep everyone in line.”

  “So, how did you end up here?”

  This was one of the questions he’d been dreading. How could he avoid the true circumstances of his forced departure from the Amish yet not lie to her? Help me, Lord.

  He shrugged. “God. He allowed me to meet a great man who introduced me to the Bible. He showed me how I could have eternal life and I accepted Christ as my Saviour.”

  She frowned. “But I thought… Don’t the Amish read the Bible?”

  “Yeah, some. But our Bible was in German so I never really understood much of it. I had heard about Jesus, but I’d never heard that you can be saved and know you’re on your way to Heaven. I’d always thought that I had to live a good Amish life.”

  “Wow. Why didn’t you have an English Bible that you could understand?”

  “You know, I’m not really sure. It might have been forbidden.”

  “Forbidden? A Bible?”

  “I don’t know. I never asked those kinds of questions. Asking too many questions was usually frowned upon. We were just taught that we did things the way we did because that was what our ancestors did. If it was good enough for them, it was good enough for us.”

  “Wow.”

  “Okay. Your turn. Tell me about you.”

  “I told you that my life was boring. And now that I know your background, you’ll really think so.”

  “Nothing about you could be boring to me.” He trailed her arm lightly with his finger.

  “Okay, tell me what you want to know, Jonah Millerton.”

  “Have you always lived here?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did your father become wealthy?”

  “My grandfather passed down a decent-size farm to my father. My father used the increase from the crops and made some wise investments.”

  “What kind of investments?”

  “Mostly stocks. He had a good eye. He bought low and sold high. He invested in some up and coming companies and now he can basically do what he wants.”

  “So, he manages this property?”

  “Not really. He hires it out. My dad isn’t really much of a farmer. He actually went to school to become a minister.”

  “Wait. Your father’s a preacher?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s sort of an on-call preacher. He doesn’t have a congregation of his own.”

  “Hmm… that’s interesting.” He scratched his head. “Do you and your dad have a close relationship?”

  “I guess so. I was always closer to Mom, but Dad and I have become closer since she died.”

  He frowned, thinking of his father. He was surely closest to his father than anyone else had been. He briefly wondered if Benjamin had taken his place.

  “Tell me about your mother.”

  “She was my best friend. I could talk to her about anything. I miss her so much sometimes.” A tear slid down her cheek followed by another. “I wish I could have just another day with her, you know?”

  He knew exactly. What he wouldn’t give to see Dat again.

  “I’m sorry.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

  She wiped her eyes, then handed it back.

  “No, you keep it.”

  She stared down at it, as though noticing it for the first time. She fingered the lace corner and delicate embroidery. “This is lovely.”

  He smiled. “Jah.”

  “Did you get it from a girl?” Her brow arched. Was she jealous?

  “Yeah.”

  She shook her head and handed it back. “No, thank you. I don’t want to take it from you.”

  “My schweschder. It was from my sister. She made me two of them.” Fortunately, it was one thing from home he’d had with him the day he met his demise at his brothers’ hands. He pushed the hankie back toward her. “Please. Keep it. I want you to have a way to remember me. To remember our friendship.”

  “Remember you?” She frowned and moved her thumb over the embroidered flowers. “Where are you going? I didn’t realize you planned on leaving the area.”

  “I’m not sure where we’ll go next.” He shrugged. “But it seems like everything good in life comes to an end at one point or another.” He thought of Mamm dying, of his brothers’ actions, of losing Dat for reasons unknown to him. His heart grieved. Would he ever see Dat alive again? It seemed unfair that their living years must be spent apart.

  Azalea grew quiet. “I’d hoped this could be a lifelong friendship,” she whispered.

  “We can hope. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping for more than just friendship. Either way, I still want you to keep that.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted a little and she folded the handkerchief and tucked it into her pocket. “Thank you, Jonah. I’ll cherish it. And as far as I’m concerned, I already consider you much more than just a friend.”

  She leaned close and kissed his cheek.

  “I know.” He wanted so badly to hold on to that hope. But for some reason their relationship seemed like a lathering bar of his sister’s soap that would slip through his fingers at any moment.

  Was God sending him some sort of warning? Preparing him for something he couldn’t foresee?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Six months later…

  “Thank you for volunteering to work inside.” Mrs. Brandenburg, the estate’s owner, seemed to be an overly cheerful person. To him, it almost seemed fake.

  He silently chided himself for judging this woman before he even had a chance to know her. She was a friend of Azalea’s family, so she must be a sincere person. His initial assessment was most likely mistaken. Although he was usually a pretty good judge of character. He had his older brothers to thank for that quality.

  He wanted to tell this woman that he hadn’t actually volunteered, he simply agreed to the boss’ request. Wasn’t that what an employee was supposed to do?

  “What did you need done?”

  “Well, I have some ceiling fans that I need to have installed and a couple of the rooms need to be painted.” She pinned him with a stare which made him uncomfortable. “Are you capable of completing those tasks?”

  “I believe so.” He looked away.

  “Good. Now that we have that established, I’d like you to join me in the sunroom for some tea.”

  “Oh…uh…no, thank you. I really should get to work on those things you mentioned. I get paid to work.”

  “Well, since my husband and I are doing the paying, I insist.” She smiled like the Cheshire Cat.

  Joseph swallowed. “Ok. You’re the boss.”

  “Follow me.” She led the way into a beautiful room furnished with white leather couches and colorful accent pillows. “Do have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  After she left the room, he moved and stood at the window, looking out at the magnificent view. Trees, barns, homes, and fields dotted the landscape and the location of the owners’ home gave an optimal view of all of it.

  “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  He startled at her hand on his shoulder blade and stepped away to the side. “Jah.”

  “I thought this hill was the perfect place for a home.”

  He turned from the window and took a seat on the couch farthest from where she stood.

  “Tea.” She handed him a glass of iced tea, then sat down beside him.

  Why did she have to sit right next to him when there was a whole nother empty couch?

  “Do you like it?” She traced her bottom lip with her finger, as though she wanted him to notice her mouth.

  He swallowed. “Uh…yeah, the tea’s gut.”

  “Goot?”

  “It’s good.”

  “Oh, I’m glad you like it.” Her voice was subtle, sultry. She boldly placed her hand on his thigh and it sent off all kinds of alarms in his head.

  He bolted from the couch and placed the glass of te
a back onto the tray. “I better get to work.”

  She stood too and quickly approached him, putting her hands on his chest. “We have time before you begin work.” She pressed close.

  He stepped back. “No! Your husband…he’s trusting me to do a job. Besides, it is wrong. It would displease the Lord.”

  He practically ran from the room, doing his best to catch his breath. He’d never been around a woman so bold in her intentions. How could she approach him like that when she already had her own husband? The thought baffled him.

  Did Azalea have any idea that their family friend behaved herself in such a fashion? Surely, they couldn’t know this about her.

  If he was going to do this job, he needed to stay as far away from that woman as possible. But how could he since all the work he’d be doing here was inside the home? He’d have to be sure and keep busy and avoid the female owner like strong drink.

  ~

  “That ceiling fan looks nice.”

  Oh, no. It was her again. Fortunately, he’d had some reprieve the past few days since she’d been busy with errands. He hoped she’d abandoned her foolish notions of any type of relationship between them.

  He turned from his place on the ladder to greet her out of common courtesy. “Thank you.”

  “When you’re finished, I have something else that needs to be done in the room down the hall.”

  “Okay, it’ll be about ten more minutes.” He didn’t even glance her way this time. The last thing he desired was to encourage her in the least.

  “Great. It’ll be the one with the door slightly open.”

  He nodded, not wishing to speak any more words to her and be about the task at hand.

  ~

  Ten minutes later, he found the room with the door open and stepped inside. He looked around, then heard the door behind him close.

  “You made it.” The voice was back. The woman stepped behind him and quickly clutched the flannel that he had draped over his shoulder earlier when it had gotten too warm.

  He turned around just as she tossed his flannel onto a winged-back chair. His mouth dropped open at the sight of her. She wore a very short dress-thingy made of some kind of see-through material he never would have imagined actually existed. That shouldn’t exist, he decided. He found it difficult not to stare, but forced himself to look away.

  “It’s okay. You may look.”

  No, he didn’t want to look! He wanted to scrub the image from his mind and never recall it again. He was too stunned to say anything. Like a possum frozen in the middle of the road while a semi headed straight for it.

  He refused to look upon another man’s wife. He didn’t even have to ask why she was dressed that way. He gulped as his heart galloped almost uncontrollably. What she wanted was as clear as the crystal in the chandelier that hung in the main foyer.

  Him.

  “You like what you see?” She stepped close and whispered in his ear. “It can all be yours, Jonah.” She began unbuttoning his shirt.

  He had to get out of there.

  He finally found his voice. “No, I can’t do this! I won’t. It is wrong. God wouldn’t be pleased. And your husband…”

  He ran from the room without looking back. He determined then and there he would not return to this house. No matter what.

  He was already out the door when he heard a piercing scream, but he would not go back in to see what had happened. No, he’d never enter this home again.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “That was a wonderful supper. Thank you.” Joseph smiled, leaned down, and kissed the cook as he set his dishes into the sink. It was wunderbaar having a woman in his home. He hoped that one day it might be a permanent thing. But that was up to Der Herr.

  He was pretty certain this was how Dat had must’ve felt about Mamm before they married.

  Azalea lightly pushed him away and continued rinsing debris off the plate she held. “Nope. None of that. We need to wash up these dishes then you need to study. No getting out of it.” She pointed a finger at him.

  He sighed. “It seems like that’s all I do lately. Wasn’t getting my driver’s license enough? Can’t we take a break?”

  “Well, if you want to pass the HSE with flying colors, you’re going to need to learn this stuff. You can take a break after you pass the test.” She bumped his hip with her own. “We’ll do something special when you’re done. I promise.”

  He liked the sound of that.

  “But I’ll probably just forget it all as soon as I take the test.” It seemed pointless to memorize a bunch of random facts knowing he’d probably just forget them. And never use them. He’d got along this far without knowing these things.

  “You’ll remember some of it.”

  He picked up a dish towel and began drying the dishes she set in the rack. “I’m going to remember that part about celebrating.”

  He covertly studied her as she stood at the sink. She was so smart. And beautiful. And industrious. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t find anything about her that he didn’t like. She’d make a wonderful wife. Just as soon as he felt secure enough that he could provide for her, he planned to approach her father and ask for her hand in marriage. That alone was reason enough to push forward with the HSE. He’d do anything to win her father’s approval.

  Azalea had wanted to introduce him to her father already, but he wanted to wait until the time was right—when all his ducks were in a row. He didn’t want to give the man any reason to reject him.

  His mind went back to the ordeal at work today. “Azalea? How well does your family know the Brandenburgs?”

  “Pretty well. My mother went to high school with Mrs. Brandenburg. They were friends.”

  He nodded. “Oh.”

  “We don’t see each other too often. And it’s been quite a bit less since Mom passed on. We occasionally go to dinner parties and such.” She turned from the sink. “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged. He didn’t know much about dinner parties, but he knew he’d never want to be in the same room with the seductive Mrs. Brandenburg again.

  He’d wanted to tell Azalea about the events of the day, but didn’t know how to bring it up. The whole situation had been terribly awkward and embarrassing. Maybe he should just keep it to himself for now. He didn’t want Azalea to think less of her mother’s friend.

  But then again, she probably should know. “Well, when I was wor—”

  He heard a knock on the door of his small apartment. He tossed the towel on the counter. “Ach, someone’s here. I wonder who it could be. Just a minute.”

  He moved to the entry and pulled the door open, not thinking twice about checking through the peephole. Back home in his Amish community, he couldn’t ever remember locking the doors.

  “Are you Jonah Millerton?” One of two uniformed police officers asked.

  “Yes.” He frowned. What could be wrong?

  In a split second, he spun around involuntarily and his arms were yanked tightly behind his back. Something cold and metal closed hard around his wrists. It brought back memories inside a garbage truck.

  “What…?” He couldn’t even formulate the words.

  Azalea walked into the room at that moment.

  “Jonah, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Azalea met his eyes with dismay. They probably mirrored his own.

  “I don’t know!” His breathing became shallow.

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford…” The officer continued reading, but all Joseph could hear were the tumultuous thoughts in his head.

  “What? I don’t… What did I do?” He hated the fact that tears pricked his eyes and he couldn’t wipe them away. What must Azalea be thinking?

  “Does attempted rape ring a bell, buddy?” The officer handled him roughly, he guessed on purpose.

  Rape? The word sounded familiar but he was unsure of what it meant. W
ait a minute, isn’t that what had happened to Dinah? Wait, what? His thoughts began spinning out of control.

  “Seems to me that would be an easy thing to remember,” the other officer added his two cents. Implying that he’d already committed a crime.

  But he was innocent! He had done no such thing—wouldn’t do something like that. Ever.

  His breathing became shallow. “What…?” The word was more like a whisper.

  No answer.

  “Attempted rape?” Azalea chirped. “What do they mean, Jonah?” Her eyes went wild like a spooked horse.

  “I-I don’t know, Azalea.” All he knew was that everything was happening so fast, he could hardly think straight.

  The officers led him by his biceps and one of them opened the door to the back of a police car. He looked around while neighbors stared back at him, glaring and shaking their heads. Azalea looked on in sheer horror.

  I’m innocent. He wanted to shout the words. To vindicate himself. To let the world know that he’d done absolutely nothing worthy of this harsh treatment. But instead, he remained silent.

  “Duck your head.”

  He did as told, right before he was shoved onto the hard plastic backseat of the patrol vehicle. The door slammed shut and in less than a minute he was sliding back and forth as the cop mercilessly drove toward the police station.

  God, what’s happening here? Please be with me. Guide me. Help me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sorrow encompassed Joseph’s heart as he sat in what the officers had called a ‘holding tank.’ Was he really being accused of the exact same horrors that had befallen his sister? How could that be? He hadn’t even touched the woman. He wouldn’t touch her.

  He’d only sought to please Der Herr. Had he failed? What had he done wrong?

  Perhaps he had lost favor with Gott because he was no longer Amish? No, that couldn’t be right. Could it? It was true that he wasn’t Amish anymore. But didn’t God still watch out for those who weren’t part of the Amish church? After all, there were many millions of people in the world. He used to think that God was so exclusive, so unapproachable, that only the Amish were His chosen people. But now he knew better. What about the Jews? Didn’t they claim to be God’s chosen people? And what about the Catholics? Didn’t they claim to be the one true church? Along with who knows how many other religious establishments? These were things he’d never even considered in the past, not before meeting Robert, the man at the Rescue Mission.