A Promise of Hope (17 page)

Luke swallowed his disgust.

“It’s not public knowledge, so don’t get me in trouble with this one, okay? Norman’s told me he’s going to propose, but he hasn’t even asked Sarah yet.” Timothy pointed to Luke’s chest. “Promise me, all right?”

“You’re secret is safe with me.” Luke couldn’t fathom saying those words aloud.

“And for the record, I don’t hate you. I’m sorry I came off that way.” Timothy held his hand out and Luke shook it. “Friends?”

“Ya.”
Luke stared after Timothy in disbelief as he disappeared into the shop.

Bile rose in his throat at the thought of Sarah marrying Norman. He was sure that was a sign for him to leave Bird-in-Hand. He couldn’t stand to watch her marry another man. Luke’s decision was made for him—he was going home to Ohio.

Later that evening, Sarah stared at the letters in her hands, rereading the words for what felt like the hundredth time. Each of the three letters had the same overall message from DeLana to Peter. She asked if he was okay and if he had forgotten to send the child support. DeLana requested that Peter call her to let her know everything was okay, and her cellular phone number was scrawled at the end of each note. Sarah had committed the number to memory.

She couldn’t stop the overwhelming urge to call DeLana.

She wanted to hear DeLana’s voice and ask her several questions, such as how she and Peter had met, how long they courted, why they broke up, if they truly loved each other, and why Peter had walked away from his son.

Sarah closed her eyes and hugged the letters to her chest. She had to know exactly what had happened between Peter and DeLana and verify that Luke’s version of the story was accurate. The questions would haunt her until they were answered.

A knock on the door startled her. Sarah slipped the letters into the pocket of her apron.

“Sarah Rose?”
Mamm’s
anxious voice sounded outside the door. “Are you all right?”

“Ya.”
Sarah rose from the chair. She wiped her eyes, and adjusted her prayer
Kapp
on her hair. She then forced a smile and opened the door. “I was just resting. Is
Dat
ready for devotions?”

“No.”
Mamm’s
eyes studied Sarah’s. “Norman’s here for a visit. Are you well enough to come see him?”

“Ya.”
Sarah straightened her dress. “The
zwillingbopplin
are fast asleep in the nursery.” She stepped past
Mamm,
but a strong hand on her shoulder stopped her.

Mamm
didn’t look convinced. “You’ve been quiet all day. What did you find out at the post office?”

Sarah paused, debating what to say. “I closed out his box and I got a few more letters. All from DeLana.”

“Did the letters upset you?”
Mamm
touched her hand. “You must let go of all of this hurt. Please do it for your heart and for the
kinner.
They can sense when you’re sad,
mei liewe.”

“I’m fine.” Sarah took
Mamm’s
hands in hers. “I promise you I am. Let’s go see our guests,
ya?”

Sarah and
Mamm
met Norman and his family in the kitchen, where they ate dessert and talked late into the evening. While the children played games in the living room, Sarah and Norman retreated to the porch and sank onto the swing.

Wrapped in a blanket, Sarah breathed in the chilly air and stared toward her dark house, wondering where Luke was. Was he working late? Had he not made it home safely? Was he still angry with her? Did he feel the same ache in his heart for her as she did for him?

Against her will, Sarah heaved a heavy sigh that carried the weight of her regret for snapping at him.

“Sarah?” Norman asked with a chuckle. “I’m boring you to tears, no?”

“Ack,
I’m so sorry.” Sarah sat up and smoothed the blanket. “You’re not boring me at all. I’m just tired. It was a long day.”

“Mei freind,”
Norman said, squeezing her hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I know this is all overwhelming for you. You lost Peter not even a year ago. Please don’t make excuses for yourself. You’re permitted to be a bundle of emotions.”

Sarah forced a smile. Norman continued his conversation about his extended family that had visited today from Gordonville, and Sarah tried to concentrate on it.

The clip-clop of a horse and crunch of tires rolling up the lane stole Sarah’s attention from Norman’s voice. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest when the buggy stopped in front of
Dat’s
barn and Luke emerged from the driver’s seat.

While Luke unhitched Molly, Sarah clasped her hands together and sucked in a deep breath. He stowed the buggy and Molly and then emerged from the barn.

Part of Sarah hoped Luke would just disappear down the lane to the house without so much as a greeting for her, while another part prayed he would stop by and say hello.

His tall, slender silhouette sauntered toward the porch, and Sarah’s pulse quickened. When the light of the lamp kissed his chiseled countenance, her breath caught in her throat.

“Wie geht’s,”
Norman said. “It’s good to see you, Luke.”

“You too.” Luke nodded at Norman. He then turned to Sarah, and his brown eyes sizzled with hot emotion. Was it anger? Or was it passion?

Sarah cleared her throat.

“Sarah Rose,” Luke said, his voice cool.

She nodded in response, her voice still lost in her throat.

He tapped the railing. “I’ll leave you to visit. Have a nice evening.” He then turned and started down the gravel toward her former house.

“You too,” Norman called after him.
“Gut nacht.”
After a few beats, he rubbed Sarah’s arm. “He’s a
gut
guy.”

Sarah nodded and cleared her throat, hoping to stop the tears that threatened. She couldn’t stop the foreboding feeling that Luke was walking out of her life.

Luke threw his bag on the bed and tossed his shirts into it. His heart pounded in his chest while anger, resentment, and regret rioted in his gut. Seeing Sarah sitting on the porch with Norman’s arm around her had sent his blood pressure soaring. To make matters worse, she never spoke to him, never even acknowledged him beyond a slight nod. It was as though he meant nothing to her now that she had her future husband, Norman.

Timothy’s words stung his ears—it made sense for her to marry Norman since he was a widower and had children to raise. Perhaps Timothy was right. However, he couldn’t shake one question: did Sarah even love Norman? If so, she’d never expressed it to Luke.

Sarah had made her choice, proving Luke didn’t belong here. The Lord was telling him he was wrong to covet his brother’s widow, and it was time he faced up to that fact. By going home, he could find a way to heal his heart and move on without any reminder of what Peter had left behind.

He packed up his clothes and then moved to the master bedroom where the pile of Peter’s shirts still sat patiently waiting for a new home. Tears stung Luke’s eyes as he sifted through the clothing.

Memories of his brother crashed down on him—holidays with their parents before their
mamm
died, playing volleyball in the back pasture with friends, walking to school together, and sitting in the loft of the barn late at night and talking about everything from girls to their deep faith in God.

He allowed the memories to carry him back to a less complicated time, and the mourning he’d held at bay since he learned of his brother’s death assaulted his emotions. The release was cleansing, but it left Luke feeling like a cold, empty shell of who he’d once been.

After choosing four shirts, Luke tossed them into his bag. His thoughts then turned to the twins. His heart ached at the realization of leaving them, but he couldn’t bear to watch their mother, the woman he loved, marry someone else.

The pain was too much for him. He felt as if he was breaking a promise to Peter by leaving, but it was the best choice for Luke. He would visit the children and keep in touch with them. They would know their uncle Luke; he’d make certain of it.

Needing to exit the house in an attempt to clear his head and quell his emotions, Luke grabbed his coat and stalked out the front door. The cold air kissed his face and filled his lungs with the heavy aroma of wood fireplaces.

He lowered himself onto the porch steps and reflected on the events of his four-month stay in Bird-in-Hand. The reality of leaving filled him with regret. He’d enjoyed being a surrogate member of the Kauffman clan, and he would miss their closeness. Yet he had good friends in Mel and Sally. It wasn’t as if he would be alone back in Ohio. He also had a few cousins, aunts, and uncles.

He had to get out of Lancaster County while he still had some of his heart and soul intact. Tomorrow would be the day. He needed to be on that first train.

Something flashed in his peripheral vision, and Luke turned toward Eli’s home. A Coleman lamp held by a tall figure floated near the large barn. Judging from the height of the silhouette, Luke deduced it to be Eli—just the man he needed to arrange for a ride to the station.

Luke hopped up and jogged toward the barn, reaching it just as Eli finished locking the large doors. “Eli,” he called. “Do you have a moment?”

“Luke.” The older man gave a surprised expression. “What are you doing out this late?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Luke jammed his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Of course.” He nodded toward the porch. “Would you like to have a seat?”

Luke hesitated. Scanning the property, he found Norman’s buggy was gone; however, he feared Sarah might be awake. Luke didn’t want her to overhear his conversation with Eli and find out he was leaving.

“Something wrong?” Eli asked.

“How about we walk along the fence?” Luke asked. “It’s a beautiful night.”

Eli eyed him with suspicion. “It’s a bit cold for a leisurely walk. Let’s go back into my woodshop. We’ll have privacy there.”

“Danki,”
Luke said, wondering if his apprehension was more transparent than he feared.

He followed Eli around the back of the barn and into a shed converted into a carpentry shop, complete with several workbenches, stools, and a sea of tools. An unfinished bookshelf and an end table sat in the corner awaiting stain. The scent of wood and paint filled Luke’s nostrils as he hopped up onto a stool.

Eli set the lantern down, leaned against the bench, and studied Luke. “What’s bothering you, son? You seem preoccupied, like you’re wrestling with the meaning of life.”

Luke hugged his arms to his chest; however, the cold seeping into his bones seemed to be more than the temperature in the shed. “I was wondering if you’d arrange for me to get a ride to the train station early tomorrow morning.”

A frown clouded Eli’s face, and he fingered his beard, deep in thought. “I guess my suggestion for you to wait before making a decision didn’t help, no?”

“I appreciate all you and your family have done for me, but I feel like the Lord is telling me that it’s time to go home.” Luke leaned back against the workbench and ran his fingers over the grain of the wooden top. “I’ll be back to visit the
zwillingbopplin.”

Eli was silent for a moment, still rubbing his beard and studying Luke. His expression softened. “This is about Sarah Rose, isn’t it?”

“No,” Luke said, shaking his head. “I just feel it’s time to go home. That’s all.”

“Don’t deny it.” Eli gave a knowing smile, folding his arms across his muscular frame. “You love my Sarah Rose.”

“No, I don’t,” Luke said with a shrug, hoping he appeared nonchalant.

Eli rested a foot on the rung of a stool. “Why are you retreating to Ohio when your heart will remain here?”

Luke blew out a sigh and glanced around the shop in an attempt to avoid Eli’s knowing expression. The question left Luke’s lips before he could squelch it: “How do you know where you truly belong?” He glanced down at his lap and then met Eli’s warm gaze.

“You know in here.” Eli pointed to his heart. “God fills our heart with clues for what He wants us to have in life. If something seems to fit, then we know it’s what God wants for us.”

“But I feel like I should go home.” Luke crossed his arms and shivered. “I don’t feel like I belong here.”

“Are you sure?” Eli raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “Is that really what your heart is telling you? Is that what you came to tell Sarah Rose the other night when you found out she was still angry with you?”

Luke blanched. “How did you know—”

“Elizabeth told me. She overheard some of the conversation.” Eli’s eyes probed Luke’s. “Are you sure you want to leave?”

“Ya.
I think it’s best.” Luke nodded with emphasis.

“Then you best give me your contact information. I’d like to keep in touch.” Eli fetched a notepad and pencil from the bench behind him and passed it to Luke.

“I’ll be in touch and visit. I want the
zwillingbopplin
to know me. I’m their only connection to Peter.” Luke recorded his address and the phone number to the shop where he worked. He then handed the notepad back to Eli, who slipped it into his coat pocket.

“You don’t have to run.” Eli touched Luke’s shoulder.

“I’m not running. I’m doing what’s best for me and also for Sarah. She’s my brother’s widow.” He shook his head. “It’s just not right for me to even think of her that way, and I would guess she knows it. I’m sure my being here brings back memories she needs to forget.”

Luke sighed. “I messed things up for her by telling her the truth about Peter’s past and who I was. I did nothing but hurt her. The best thing I can do for her now is to leave and let her live a new life. She deserves happiness, not bad memories and lies Peter selfishly left for her to sort through.”

“There’s a verse I read during our devotion time the other night that reminds me of this situation. It was 1 John 4:18.” Eli squeezed his shoulder. “‘There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.’ Don’t fear your love for Sarah Rose. See where it takes you.”