Forbidden Amish Love

Chapter 1

With a still-shaking hand held over her mouth, Emily Graber took one last look, then stepped aside as the men loaded her vater into the long car. As they drove away, an emptiness descended upon her unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, even when Mawmie had died five years prior.

Did it have to be so soon, Lord?

It wasn’t their fault, she told herself. They’d had ten children—Emily just happened to be the last. And with the title of the youngest came less time with her parents, and now an empty house all to herself.

Are you all right? Silas Moreland’s voice caused her to jump.

She spun around and beheld her closest neighbor, a long man with a narrow face and unruly dark brown locks of hair beneath his straw hat. His beard angled down into a soft V shape with no mustache. A handsome man of twenty-seven, his wife was both heartless and brainless to have left him.

I thought you’d already gone, her voice edged with worry.

He shook his head. What do we need to do now? he asked more softly now.

Did he expect her to have all the answers? Her vater passed not more than an hour ago and suddenly she was responsible for everything, including teaching the Englisher-turned-Amish neighbor their customs. But one look into his hauntingly dark, almost black, eyes settled her. He wanted to learn, and she was a teacher.

I need to get word to all my kin so we can plan for the burial, she said with the same confidence she used in the school-house.

Can I take you to them? he asked.

His buggy was still hitched up from having ridden out earlier to use the telephone down the road. She had tearfully banged on his door several minutes before he answered. Now that she’d calmed to the point of near numbness, the memory of it burned in her cheeks. He’d grabbed her by both arms trying to get her to spit the words out. When she finally did, she saw the terror in his face drain out along with all the color.

Emily nodded. It was the logical thing to do. Riding alone in a buggy with a married man wasn’t usually permissible, but this was no ordinary day, and she doubted she could even hitch up a buggy with her trembling hands, much less make it across the settlement to her brother’s house.

Emily climbed into the waiting buggy and sat down, her eyes settling on the empty house she knew she would eventually have to return to. It disappeared as they started down the gravel drive. At twenty-two, Emily had never spent a single night alone, and the thought of having to do so now brought the tears rushing back.

I’m so sorry, Emily. Silas’s voice was low and soft, almost a whisper.

Emily wiped her eyes on her dress sleeve, leaving a dark blue stain. She inhaled deeply. Dawdie had always said it was important to show faith in the hard times because you never knew who was watching, and Dawdie had tried particularly hard when Silas was around. Emily sat up straighter and swallowed hard. She wanted to tell him she was all right, but the words wouldn’t come.

And I’m sorry I didn’t hear you at the door sooner. I’ll leave it unlocked from now on. In case you need me for anything.

Emily sniffled. Silas was a good neighbor—Dawdie had always said so.

He and his wife, Jada, had moved in when Emily was fifteen, and for the next six years, Emily had helped them from time to time with their organic farm. But after Jada left with the kids, Dawdie had been the only one to help out.

Emily glanced beside her at Silas. He had lost someone today, too.

Danki, she said.

I mean that. Anything. Just come on in, or holler real loud, and I’ll be there.

Emily smiled, then nodded. I will. She watched his body relax a little, but his eyes searched hers, no doubt seeing her in a different light. He wasn’t just the neighbor anymore, and he knew it. Now he was the only man on the place, and she the only woman.

It was a month before her brothers and sisters stopped taking turns spending the night with Emily. She had finally convinced them she was fine by herself, even though she hadn’t fully convinced herself yet. They divided up the livestock between them, leaving only the chickens for Emily to care for. Emily knew they’d probably give her most of the profits from the cows when they were sold, even though her job as the teacher at the one-room Amish school more than took care of her needs.

She exhaled heavily as she sat on the porch swing listening to the crickets’ song in the evening air.

Hello, neighbor. Silas’s voice was loud but friendly as he approached. It was a warning call to let her know he was nearing, so not to scare her.

Vie gatz. Emily smiled as Silas sauntered up the porch steps. He sat down at the top of them, as he often did when he spoke with Dawdie.

How are you? he asked, leaning his long back against the porch rail. He took off his hat and fanned himself with it before setting it down beside him.

"I’m guete, thanks. How are you getting along?"

His eyebrows tilted upward. I miss him. Very much. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.

Emily’s smile grew thin. He always liked you.

He helped me out so much. Sometimes it felt like he was the only friend I had this past year.

Emily grew silent. His wife had left him about a year earlier in the most shameful way. Emily would never understand Englishers. Amish women didn’t run off when their husbands needed them.

I…need to talk to you about something. His eyebrows pushed together. Your father and I had an agreement. About the land.

Emily held her hand up to stop him. "Any agreement you had with my vater still stands."

I figured so, but I can’t meet my end anymore. I’m selling. Silas had rented pasture from Dawdie for his organic farm. It was difficult to find land that hadn’t been treated with non-organic pesticides, and to use the organic label, the land had to be free from those products for many years.

Emily stood and walked closer to where he sat. She leaned on the porch rail to see him better in the pale light. What? You’re selling the house? Where will you go?

I don’t know. Since Jada left, things have gone downhill. It was her idea to start an organic farm in the first place. I’m no good at growing things, so I tried to concentrate on the livestock this year, but the numbers are still coming up red.

"What was the agreement with my vater? Was it a monthly amount?"

Yes. And it was more than fair, but I still can’t make it. Not for much longer, anyway. If I can’t sell soon I may have to owe you. But I’ll pay it, I promise I will.

"I don’t need the money, Silas. Dawdie would have wanted you to stay. He put a lot of work into your farm as well."

"I can’t not pay you. That wouldn’t be right."

Emily pressed her lips firmly together. ‘He that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him again.’

Silas nodded in thought, stretching his long leg straight before him. But doesn’t the Bible also say that if you don’t pay your debts you should go to jail, or something like that?

Emily laughed. I get better responses from my students, she teased. It also says, ‘if thou hast nothing to pay, why should he take away thy bed from under thee?’ So I refuse to take no for an answer, Silas. It just isn’t our way.

He relaxed a little at her words. Well, collecting debts isn’t the way your father taught me, either.

Then you can pay another way.

What do you mean? He picked his hat back up and fanned himself with it some more, the humid air heavy.

Well, I don’t need money, but there will be many things around here I’ll need help with.

He put the hat back on his head and stood. You’re my neighbor and I’ll do that anyway.

"Yes, but Vater always got our wood and cleaned out the flue. He plowed the garden for me in the spring and took care of the horses, things my married brothers will run themselves ragged doing if I let them. Either that, or I’ll be forced to sell, and don’t think they haven’t already hinted at it. I don’t want to leave my home, Silas." Emily sensed moisture rising in her bottom eyelids, but she blinked it away.

He took a step closer, studying her face in the faint light. Then I’ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. I owe it to your father. His eyes held an intensity she hadn’t encountered in anyone in a long time, not since the last buggy ride she’d had with a man.

She glanced downward. Then we have an agreement?

It’s an agreement. He shook her hand, the warmth of it a welcome contrast to the emptiness that waited for her inside.

That night, as Emily changed into her nightgown, she heard a thud upstairs, and a few minutes later, a clicking by the window made her nearly jump. Had these sounds been here all along and she’d not noticed them? It was hard to believe things could be so different simply because she was alone in the house. She climbed into bed and covered up with the sheet, hoping that whatever had made the noise wouldn’t find her. She slowed her breathing and strained to hear, yet pretended she wasn’t afraid.

It was silly. God was with her, and He promised never to forsake her. With Him, she was never truly alone, even when it felt like it.

The howl of a coyote sent Emily into a tense ball on her side. She closed her eyes tightly and in her mind recited every Bible verse she could think of.

A knock at the door jolted her awake, the sun shining in her bedroom window a surprise. How long had she slept? A glance at the clock said ten a.m.

She dressed quickly, peeked her head out of the bedroom and yelled, Just a minute. There was no time to do her hair up properly. She twisted it around and plopped it on top her head, holding it down with her kapp. Then she tied the kapp strings securely in front and tucked the loose strands of hair in as she hurried to the kitchen door.

On the other side stood Silas, tall and more bright-eyed than she’d seen him in a long while. Perhaps their agreement had given him a renewed vigor.

Is this a bad time? He glanced her up and down.

Emily looked down too, making sure she hadn’t forgotten any important articles of clothing. Thankfully she was intact. She breathed in relief. "Nay, not at all."

I was wondering if I could fill the wood rack for you.

Emily held the door with both hands. "I…think my brooda got it yesterday before he left."

Oh. His face fell.

But you can get it from now on. She watched his face brighten a little. Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?

No, I don’t want to impose, he said.

I don’t even drink coffee, she said, staring through him.

I do, he said. But I’m usually too lazy to make it.

She smiled. You mean too busy. Amish men are never lazy. The teacher in her was coming out full-force, bringing her back to the present. Come in, I’ll make you a cup.

Silas entered the kitchen, the screen door shutting itself behind him. Their houses were only a stone’s throw apart, having been built by the Hilty families some many years before. Silas’s house was much smaller—built for the aging parents—while Emily’s was the main house. When the place was sold, they divided the land into two separate tracts.

Silas sat down at the table and took his hat off, placing it in his lap.

As she put the pot of water on the stove to boil, Emily said, Do you think you’ll be able to make it without the rent payment?

She heard his feet shuffling under the table on the hardwood floor.

I hope so.

Is there anything I can do to help you? There’s still a lot of summer left before school starts again.

No, thank you, Miss Emily. I’m indebted to you already. I’ll be fine.

Her students all called her Miss Emily and she enjoyed it. Perhaps it was vanity, but it made her feel important and respected. Maybe that was why she chose to stay for another year, rather than looking for a man to settle down with. But Silas was no school-aged child.

"It’s just Emily. And an Amish man would answer, ‘if the guete Lord’s willing’."

Then if the good Lord’s willing, I’ll turn a profit this fall. He smiled.

That’s the spirit, she said, just like she would to her class.

A strand of hair tickled her neck as she handed him a hot cup of coffee.

He chuckled. I didn’t mean to wake you.

She tucked at the dark-red strand and walked out of the room. Quick-as-a-wink she had her hair done up properly and her black kapp tied back on. She re-entered the room with warm cheeks. I’m glad you did. It’s not right to sleep that late.

Maybe you needed the rest. Silas took a sip of his coffee but kept his eyes above the cup, directly on her.

I didn’t sleep much at all, she confessed. I kept hearing things.

Silas set the cup down. What kind of things?

Imaginary things. She shook her head. It was the first night I’ve ever been alone in the house.

Ever? He sounded surprised.

She nodded. Did he think that was babyish?

He leaned forward with his forearms on the table. I know what that’s like. When Jada and the kids left, I couldn’t stand the silence. I bought a radio and played the news station sometimes, just so I wouldn’t feel so alone.

Her mouth dropped open. She understood him missing his family, especially his two young children, Natasha and Will, but radios were not permitted in the Swiss Amish community. What would the bishop say?

Don’t worry. Your father and I talked about it and he convinced me to get rid of it.

She closed her mouth. "My vater always tried to walk uprightly."

And I wasn’t done learning from him. Silas leaned back in his chair and set his eyes on the hat, still in his lap.

Emily sat down across from him. ‘A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.’

Silas gave a low sigh. He quoted that one a lot.

She met his eyes. "You’re doing well, Silas. Not many would have expected it from an Englisher."

He slowly nodded. That means…so much to hear you say that. I spend a lot of time worrying if I’m doing things right.

Well, you are. The Lord knows your troubles and He rewards those who are faithful. Just remember that.

I will. He swallowed down the last of his coffee and stood. I’d better be getting to work. Amish men are never lazy, right?

Right. She stood too, and caught his eyes once more, noticing them as if for the first time. They were deep-set, yet protruding, and his bottom eyelids were longer than most, giving his brown eyes constant emotion with a shadowy, haunting feel.

This is a big house. It’s going to make some strange sounds at night. I can come by and check it all out for you about dark, if that would help you sleep better.

Emily knew it was silly, but it would make her feel better. And the man was anxious to repay his debt. Only if you promise not to tell anyone I’m a scaredy-cat.

He laughed and placed his hat back on his head before the screen door snapped shut behind him.

That night, Silas returned as promised, just before the darkness in the house prevented movement without a lantern. He did a walk-through of the whole house and then returned to the living room.

I checked every room, every closet. He locked the door in the living room and Emily escorted him to the kitchen. Lock this one after I leave and you’ll be secure for the night.

Danki. Her face burned with embarrassment, but checking the house was his idea. Never would she have dreamed of asking, though it did make her feel better.

What are neighbors for? His voice was deep and smooth.

"Well, goot nacht," she said, suddenly very aware of the inappropriateness of his presence. Though his wife had left him, he was still a married man.

Good night.

She watched Silas disappear into the dark shadows beyond the house, wondering how he had, for over a year, survived the same loneliness she was feeling now.

Chapter 2

It had been nearly a week since Silas started checking the house for Emily each night, and she knew he would be over soon. She stood on the porch with her brother, Henry, at sunset.

Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? he asked.

Not a thing. All the chores are caught up, and there’s plenty of wood in the rack by the cookstove. I have a lot of help around here—not that I couldn’t do it myself.

Henry walked down the porch steps, turning back around when his boots hit the ground. I know. You’re a mighty independent woman. He smiled a toothy grin.

Danki, Emily said, taken aback by his unexpected remark.

I didn’t mean it as a compliment. Henry’s smile grew even wider. He tipped his hat and climbed into the buggy, leaving her shaking her head at him on the porch.

She peered over her shoulder and spied Silas coming out his front door. She watched him slowly descend his porch steps and walk over as Henry drove out of sight.

Did Henry scare away the boogie men for you tonight? he asked as he neared. His tone was friendly, yet teasing.

I think I’m okay now, Silas. I know it’s silly to worry over every little noise. She had slept so much better the past week, but she couldn’t continue to let him baby her forever.

He nodded, his face downcast. Perhaps he longed to be needed by someone again. If you’re sure.

Will you stay for supper? Henry was here and I cooked too much, but he wouldn’t stay. It’s on the table already.

He hesitated before nodding, then followed her inside.

That looks really good, Silas said as he sat down across from her at the small table that seated four.

It’s just fried chicken and gravy. Nothing fancy.

They bowed their heads in a silent prayer. Emily thanked God for everything she could think of as she waited for Silas to signal the end. Her stomach rumbled as she ran out of things to say. Finally, she stole a glance at Silas, who still had his head down, but was peeking up at her. A flash of heat rolled over her. She’d never had to signal the end of prayer before. Dawdie had always done it, and she assumed Silas would too, but it was her home. She cleared her throat and took a drink of water from the glass in front of her.

She watched Silas take the first bite.

This is so good, he said, making heartfelt eyes at the food.

You look like you haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.

I haven’t. And never as good as this. Jada wouldn’t cook meat at all.

Emily set her fork down. She wouldn’t cook meat?

He shook his head, still chewing. No, she went vegan right after the kids were born.

What’s that?

She wouldn’t eat any kind of meat or animal products. No cheese, no milk, not even eggs. She said it was cruel to the animals.

Who doesn’t eat eggs? Emily said in a high-pitched voice. What did she have for breakfast?

"Oatmeal. Organic oatmeal."

That doesn’t sound very healthy, Emily said, shaking her head.

Oh, it’s supposed to be. Jada’s a health-nut. She’s very up-to-date on the latest health research. She’ll probably outlive us all.

Emily laughed. I believe I’d rather die early.

That’s what I told her when she stopped eating bacon. He nodded and took another bite.

Well, I can see you could probably use a few extra pounds. He had been looking a little on the lean side lately.

He caught her eyes. You’re slim and you eat meat. I’ll bet you’re just as healthy.

Emily sucked in her gut. It was flattering to be called slim, even if he meant nothing by it. She stared at her plate, picking at the food with her fork.

What happened to you two? she asked.

He swallowed hard. We made the decision to become Amish together, but then…she changed her mind.

You chose this way of life over your wife?

It wasn’t exactly like that. She wanted to leave, yes, but she made it very clear she was going to be without me either way. It made me realize she was just trying on a life with me like she was trying on being Amish. Just another thing to add to her life-list. I wanted more than that when I came here. I wanted…to know God on a deeper level.

Emily held her glass tight in her hands, hoping not to push him away with the instruction she longed to give. And have you?

I was beginning to. Your father was teaching me.

A silence passed.

I’ll pray that you find what you’re seeking.

Darkness was descending on the room, the soft light from the screen door the only thing keeping them from needing a lantern. Emily squirmed a bit in her chair.

He stood. It’s getting late. Thank you for supper.

You haven’t had any pie yet, she said, knowing he should leave, but for some reason holding onto his presence.

I’d better get back home.

Then take the pie with you.

He shook his head, eyes dancing on the whole pie she held out to him. It was obvious he was tempted by it. She placed it in his hands.

Thank you, he said. She held the door open for him and her pulse sped as he slowly walked past. She watched him walk across the grass that separated her kitchen door from his.

The poor man.

It was a shame his wife had deserted him, and if Emily ever saw Jada again, she’d have to bite her tongue to keep from telling her so.

Afew days later, Emily’s brother, Caleb, came by to see how she was doing. I went to clean out the horse stalls but they’re already clean, he said, scratching his head.

Emily sat on the front porch swing with a new library book beside her. It’s all taken care of. No need to fret over me.

I guess Henry beat me to it, he said, more to himself than her.

Emily didn’t answer.

He raised a sharp eyebrow in her direction. You’re sure there’s nothing that needs done here?

Not a thing, she said with a contented smile.

And how are you doing? Now both eyebrows were sharp.

I’m just taking a little time to relax before school starts up again. She let the swing sway with a creak each time it drew backward.

You can come home with me if you want. You can stay with us anytime.

Emily knew her brother and sister-in-law would be delighted to have her around, but it was a slippery slope. Soon she’d be afraid to be home alone again, and then talk of her selling the house would come up. "Nay, I’m fine. And I’ll be busy soon enough. Let me have the rest of my summer to drink sweet tea and read my books."

He chuckled. You and your books. You’re the only woman I know who’d rather have a book than a husband.

It was common for all of her brothers and sisters to tease her about not marrying, each year saying she would be a spinster if she didn’t.

Books are relaxing; husbands are just more work. Speaking of which, don’t you have a wife you could go make some work for? She picked her book up and pretended to read it. Her brother laughed once more before leaving.

When he was out of sight, Emily closed the book and hurried inside. It was Thursday and she’d purchased some rhubarb jelly at the open market that morning. Silas had been working hard at keeping up the place and had even patched the roof on the horse stalls after cleaning them out yesterday. Emily figured the least she could do was to send him over something home-cooked once in a while to keep the poor man from losing any more weight. She still couldn’t believe Jada wouldn’t fix him any meat. A man with muscles like that needed more than organic carrots to keep him alive.

A few hours later, his wide shoulders appeared at the kitchen door. He rapped gently on the frame of the screen.

Come in, she called.

I brought your pie plate back. He set it on the table. How do you say good pie in Swiss German?

Gueta poi.

"Well, it was very gueta poi. I thank you." He turned to go.

Wait, she said. I just made rhubarb jelly rolls. Try one.

Before he could answer, she thrust a small plate with a jelly roll into his hands. He smiled and sat down at the table. She handed him a fork.

Aren’t you going to eat one? he asked.

Ja, she said, breaking her stare. She hurried to fix herself a plate and sat down beside him.

I’ve never had rhubarb before.

It’s good though, right? She waited for him to chew a bite.

"Yes. Very good.