A Promise of Hope (6 page)

Maybe he was really an English man posing as an Amish man to run from indiscretions he committed in his former life.”

Mamm
pulled her into a hug. “Peter was a
gut
man with a
gut
heart. Hold onto the happy memories, Sarah Rose. He’s gone, but you know he loved you and loved your
kinner.”

“But he lied,” Sarah said, resting her chin on
Mamm’s
shoulder as she’d done as a little girl.

“There must’ve been a reason. I don’t want to believe the worst.”

Standing up tall, Sarah swiped her hand over her hot cheeks. “Neither do I, but the lies are here in the flesh of that man who looks like Peter and shares his mannerisms. How can I come to terms with that when it’s staring me in the face? And how do I know my whole marriage wasn’t a sham?”

Elizabeth took Sarah’s hands in hers. “I don’t have the answers, but I do know one thing for certain: Peter loved you. I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at you, Sarah Rose. I don’t know why he would be dishonest with you, but I know his heart belonged to you and only you.” She nodded toward the sink. “I’ll finish the dishes. You go wash your face, then take Luke over to your house. Let him see where Peter lived and tell him about your life with him.”

Sarah heaved a deep breath and headed toward the bathroom.

6

W
ith her heart pounding, Sarah gripped the knob to the front door of the house she and Peter had shared for three short years. For a split second, she wished she’d taken Timothy up on his offer to accompany her and Luke to the house. However, she couldn’t depend on her family to shield her from the pain for the rest of her life. She had to do this in order to start down the road to healing her shattered heart, for the sake of the twins.

Her soul swelled with grief when she pushed the door open and stared at the modest living room furniture on which she and her husband would sit and talk late into the evenings.

A husband who lied to me about his family!

Sarah closed her eyes. She couldn’t deal with that now. She had to get through showing Luke the house. After a tour, she would retreat to her old room in her mother’s house and try to sort through the stress of the day caused by the mysterious visitor.

Luke stepped past her into the room and dropped his duffel bag onto the floor with a loud thud. “Your house is real nice,” he said, scanning the room. He sauntered to the doorway separating the living room from the kitchen and ran his long fingers over the molding. “Simple, but every piece fits perfectly. The moldings fit as if they were carved out of the wall. Peter’s work. I’d know it anywhere.”

Sarah rubbed her belly as Luke examined the baseboards. His mannerisms were so familiar. The way his hands swept lightly over the woodwork while he frowned, deep in thought, and how he rubbed his chin and squinted his eyes—it was so much like Peter that she almost felt her late husband’s presence.

Sarah cleared her throat and crossed the room. “The kitchen is small, but I liked it.” She gestured toward the oak cabinets. “He made them himself.”

“Wunderbaar.”
Luke rubbed the cabinets as if they were velvety-soft kittens. “Nice craftsmanship. I always told him he could open his own cabinet shop, but he wanted to concentrate on furniture. An uncle taught him how to make tables, chairs, and bed frames. Peter was a master at it.”

“Uncle?” she asked, her voice small, weighed down with more hurt. “He had an uncle in Ohio too?”

He nodded.
“Ya,
he did.”

Pain shot through Sarah’s abdomen like fire, and she sucked in a deep breath.

“Sarah?” Luke rushed over to her. “Are you all right?”

Unable to speak, she held her breath, praying the cramping would subside.

“Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair. He started to reach for her but instead pointed to the chair and she sat. He then knelt next to her, his eyes full of worry. “Should I run and get your
mamm?
Do we need to take you to a doctor?”

“No.” She swallowed deep breaths. The pain eased, and she leaned back in the chair. “It passed,” she whispered.

He nodded, concern still reflected in his face. “Want me to go get your
mamm?”

She forced a smile and shook her head. “I’m
gut,
but
danki.”
She took short breaths in anticipation of any lingering pain. Finding none, she let her body relax. “Would you like to see the upstairs?” she asked.

He frowned. “Are you sure you can make it up the stairs?”

“I’m expecting
zwillingbopplin.
I’m not ill.” She hoisted herself from the chair and started for the stairs. “Go get your bag, and I’ll show you your room.”

He grabbed his bag from the living room and followed.

Sarah took her time climbing the stairs and insisted she was doing fine when Luke again asked if she was okay. When they reached the hallway on the second floor, she leaned against the wall and breathed deeply, feeling as if she’d trotted across the back pasture in record time.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Ya.”
She caught her breath. “I have two more months of this. I’d better make myself a bedroom on my parents’ first floor.”

“I think that would be wise,” he said with a smile.

Sarah motioned toward the master bedroom. “This is our room.” She paused. “I guess I should say this
was
our room.” She scowled while studying her bed, which sat lonely and tidy, untouched since the morning Peter had perished. The beautiful green-and-blue log-cabin quilt her sister-in-law Sadie had crafted as a wedding gift seemed to mock her.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the last night Peter had held her close in the dark. She could almost feel his whiskers brushing her face, and she could almost smell his fresh, masculine scent.

But he lied!
a small voice inside her chided.
Your precious husband died and took all of his secrets with him. You’ll never know if anything he ever told you was true!

“If this is too painful for you, we can move to another room,” Luke’s voice whispered close to her ear.

Sarah kept her eyes squeezed shut. If she concentrated, she could imagine the voice speaking to her belonged to Peter. She’d give anything to hear him say, “I love you, Sarah Rose” one last time.

And she’d give anything to find out why he’d been dishonest with her.

“Which room would you prefer I use?” he asked.

Sarah’s eyes flew open, and she cleared her throat, forcing back the lump threatening to strangle her words. She had to find a way to let Peter rest in peace. She needed to pray for strength.

“Sarah?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “Do you need some time alone in here?”

“No,” she whispered, surprised by his understanding, wondering if he could read her mind. “I need to face the memories in this house eventually, and there’s no time like the present.” She headed into the hall and pointed toward the room next door.

“This was my sewing room.” Her eyes moved over the piles of material strewn about—the shirts and trousers she hadn’t finished making for Peter, and the maternity dresses she had begun. Her sewing machine sat on a small desk in the center of the room.

“I need to clean up the mess. I’ll have to tell Timothy to bring the material to
Mamm’s,”
she muttered, closing the door and moving to the next room, which contained a cradle and a few dressers. Bags of baby clothes from her sisters sat in the corner of the room awaiting sorting.

Her stomach twisted at the idea of being in this house, surrounded by bittersweet memories while organizing baby clothes for the twins who would never know their father.

And what would she tell her children about their father? Would she tell them they had more relatives in Ohio? Should she go to Ohio and meet the relatives herself before the babies were born?

She crossed the room and stared down at the cradle, wondering if she’d ever truly know who her husband had been. Her thoughts turned to her own family.

“Dat
made this cradle for my oldest brother, Robert,” she said. “It’s been passed down to each of the Kauffman
kinner
and
kinskinner.”
Gingerly she pushed the cradle, which rocked back and forth, quietly scraping the floor.

“Eli does some nice work.” Luke ran his fingers over the finish. “But you’ll need a second cradle. Maybe I can make it for you.”

Raising her eyebrows, Sarah met his gaze. “You want to make me a cradle?”

“Why not?” He tilted his head and shot her a crooked smile.

She noticed for the first time that Luke was handsome. Due to the strong family resemblance, she assumed he was Peter’s first cousin. Perhaps their fathers had been brothers.

It didn’t matter if they were first cousins or even distant cousins. How could Sarah even know for sure? What if the whole Troyer family was full of liars?

She headed for the door. “The guest room is here.”

He stepped into the small bedroom and glanced around. “This is perfect.”

Sarah moved to the bed and idly straightened the quilt. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s functional.”

“I’m Amish,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t need fancy.”

She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.
“Ya,
that’s true.”

He lifted the dark-green shade and glanced out the window. “Who lives in that house across the field?”

“Timothy.” Sarah held her stomach as the twins performed summersaults. “He built that house a few years ago.”

“Is he engaged?” Luke straightened the shade and leaned back against the wall. His lanky physique filled the room, and she guessed he was taller than Peter by at least an inch.

“It was three years ago, but his girlfriend, Miriam, changed her mind a month before the wedding and left the community.” She absently smoothed the quilt.

“She left the community?”

“Ya.”
Sarah glanced up, meeting his surprised look.

“I guess she was shunned,
ya?”

She shook her head. “She was going to join the church before they were married, but she left abruptly. Timothy was crushed. They’d been together a long time, and it took him a few years to work up the nerve to ask her to marry him. She’d always toyed with the idea of going to college, and she said she had to try to fulfill her dream. She longed to be a pediatric nurse.”

He shook his head. “I’m sure he took that hard.”

“He was angry for a long time. But he finally managed to move on by focusing on the furniture store.” She hoisted herself up. “He works long hours and always takes on the larger projects at the shop.
Dat
tells him he’s a workaholic, but that doesn’t stop him. I think that’s how he deals with his broken heart.”

“He never met anyone else?” Luke asked, standing up to his full height, which meant he towered over her by at least six inches.

“No. I hope he does someday. He’d be a
gut
husband and
dat.”
She studied Luke’s face and tried to guess his age. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine,” he said.

“Two years older than Peter,” she whispered.

“Ya,
that’s right.” He rubbed his clean-shaven chin.

Studying his mocha eyes, she wondered who Luke Troyer was. Part of her wanted to stay distant from him and not get to know him, but another part of her wanted the truth—the real truth. Yet she worried Luke would reveal even more painful deception Peter had left behind without explanation.

“Why haven’t you married?” she asked before she could stop the words.

A grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “You get right to the point, Sarah Rose.”

“I’m sorry.” Her face burned.

“It’s fine.” He waved off the thought. “I did have someone special back before my pop got sick.”

“Your father was ill?”

“Ya,
he had a stroke several years ago, and he died about eight months ago.”

“And your
mamm,
is she living?”

He shook his head. “She died in an accident when I was young.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. And you took care of your father alone?”

He leaned back against the wall again. “That’s right. I split my time between work and Pop. My girlfriend got sick of waiting for me, and she moved on.”

“Waiting for you?” She tilted her head in question. “I don’t understand.”

“She wanted me to choose between my pop and her. I couldn’t leave Pop. He was my responsibility.”

“Was she Amish?” Sarah asked.

“Ya.
We grew up together.” He tossed his straw hat onto the peg on the wall next to the bed.

She shook her head with disbelief. “How could she abandon you when you needed her most? It’s our way to care for each other. Now that Peter’s gone, it seems everyone wants to take care of me whether I want their help or not.”

“Millie wasn’t like that. I think she was too selfish to spend her time caring for my pop. She waited for a year and then married someone else—my best friend.”

“And you never met anyone else?”

“I was too busy caring for Pop and working. I didn’t have time for courting.”

“You’ve had a lot of tragedy in your life. You’ve lost your
mamm,
your
dat,
and your true love. That’s a lot for a person to bear.” She stepped toward the door. “I’ll let you get settled. The bathroom is downstairs next to the kitchen. I’ll go to the market tomorrow and get you some groceries. Feel free to come to my parents’ house for meals.”

Although Luke’s presence had sent her emotions into a deep abyss of anger and hurt, she felt sorry for him and his loss. She didn’t wish her sorrow on anyone, especially someone who was family.

“We’ll be sitting on the porch later if you want to join us.” She studied the exhaustion in his eyes and shook her head. “You look tired, though, so I’ll understand if you’d rather sleep tonight. It’s been a long day for you.”

He raked his hand through his brown hair. “I think I may call it a day, but I appreciate the invitation.”

“You’re also welcome to use our horse and buggy,” she added. “Timothy may have already introduced you to Molly in
Dat’s
barn. Peter bought Molly before we were married. She’s a very docile horse. You can use her to venture around town.”

“Danki,”
he said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “Sleep well.” Turning, she stepped through the doorway.

“Sarah!” Timothy’s voice rang out downstairs. “Sarah Rose!
Mamm
is looking for you back at the house.”

“Wait. I want to say something,” Luke said.

He ran his hand through his hair again, reminding her of Peter when he was nervous. Her mouth went dry.

“Danki
for everything,” he said. “I appreciate how your family has welcomed me here.”

“Sarah? Where are you?” Timothy called, boots scraping the stairs.

“I could only dream of having a family like this,” Luke said.

His words brought tears to her eyes. This poor man had lost his family. He deserved her sympathy.

But how can I know he’s telling the truth?

“Sarah?” Timothy said as he came up behind her. “We were starting to get worried. You’ve been here quite awhile.
Mamm
is looking for you.”

“I was just showing Luke the house,” Sarah huffed, annoyed. “I was about to head back.” Wasn’t she old enough to take care of herself? She was sick of everyone hovering over her like she was a fragile little girl.