Her Forgiving Amish Heart. Rebecca Kertz
to endure Leah’s judgment of him. He strode out of the storage room toward the back entrance. He opened the door and released a sharp breath when he saw the pouring rain. He detected a brightening in the sky that told him the worst of the storm has passed. The distant rumble of thunder confirmed it. The thunderstorm had moved on, leaving only rain. The wind had left as quickly as it’d blown in.
Henry shut the door. He wasn’t eager to return to the storage room. He’d lived with the guilt of what he’d done long enough. He didn’t need Leah Stoltzfus reminding him of his past mistakes. He still felt bad enough as it was. He moved to the window to stare at the rain until it slowed, then finally stopped.
* * *
Henry was gone a long time. It shouldn’t bother her but it did. Leah listened and realized that she could no longer hear thunder. The small room where she stood had muffled the storm and she felt less frightened. Or was it her fury at Henry that had caused her to forget the storm?
Should she wait for his return? She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t come back. She’d been awful to him, and she felt bad about it.
He and Isaac talked about me? And just like that her anger returned. She closed her eyes and prayed. Anger was a sin. She needed to fight it.
’Tis not right to be angry or deliberately cruel to a man who helped me when I needed aid most.
She didn’t know how to deal with Henry Yoder—or any man for that matter. She’d never had a sweetheart, never had any man’s attention and her at nearly twenty-four years of age.
Leah closed her eyes. Resigned to being an old maid, she would choose her own future. She ran her fingers across the multicolored quilt that Henry had given her. The pattern was lovely, the stitches neat and even. She always appreciated good craftsmanship. One day, she’d open a craft store where she’d stock quilts just like this one. She’d use the money she’d earned and saved for years, sewing prayer kapps and clothes for other church community members, and making craft items and selling them wherever she could. She also did mending for a few of the women who said they were too busy. It wouldn’t matter if she didn’t have a husband and children. She would focus on her dream and she would be happy. With the Lord’s help, she’d find the peace and enjoyment in being a store owner—and she wouldn’t let it upset her that her father never urged her to find a husband like he did with her sisters. He’d pushed her older sister, Nell, to find a husband first—which she did, although the fact that he was an Englisher had been a problem at first. Then, there was Meg. Three years younger than her, Meg was happily married to Peter Zook, a nice young man and member of their church community. As for her other younger sisters Ellie and Charlie, there was plenty of time for them to find sweethearts, although she’d witnessed firsthand the attention that the community boys gave them. She knew they would marry and have families of their own, even if she never did.
Which bought her thoughts back to Henry Yoder. The only man who had shown her kindness—for a little while anyway. His snarky attitude afterward just confirmed that she wasn’t worth any man’s attention.
She scowled. Not that she would ever like Henry Yoder. The man couldn’t be trusted. She had forgiven him for what he’d done to Isaac. But forget? Never.
Leah wondered how long she should stay in the room. Was Henry upset enough to leave her there? To lock up the store and go home? And what would she do if he did? How would she get her horse and wagon? Were the pole-barn doors locked? Would she be able to slide them open if they weren’t? Panic set in and she had trouble catching her breath. She recognized her symptoms as hyperventilation, having suffered from it once before. Yet, she was powerless to help herself.
“Leah, the rain’s stopped.” Henry entered as she struggled to slow her breathing. She heard him utter an exclamation and saw him rush out of the room. He returned within minutes with a paper bag. “Leah,” he coaxed softly, “breathe into this.”
She looked up with relief as she took it and held it over her nose and mouth. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply into the bag until she was able to draw a normal breath. She could sense Henry’s presence, feel his concern. She was a terrible person. The man had been there for her twice, and she’d snapped at him like a shrew.
Slowly she opened her eyes and faced him. Henry studied her with concern, which eased when she pulled the bag from her mouth. He was taller than her by several inches. She looked up at him with remorse. “I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “What for?”
“My behavior.” For some reason, her voice was hoarse and she didn’t know why.
The grin that curved up his mouth lit up his face and sky blue eyes. “Leah,” he said, “I was trying to make you mad.”
She jerked. “What?”
His lips shifted into a gentle smile. “While you were livid, you forgot about the storm.”
Her anger left as quickly as it had come. “You knew I was terrified,” she said softly.
“Ja.”
She blushed. “I didn’t want you to see.”
The good humor left his expression. “I understand.”
Leah stared at him and wondered if he did understand, but she didn’t want to discuss her fear anymore, and she prayed and hoped that he would keep her weakness to himself. “You won’t tell anyone?”
He appeared confused. “About—”
“That I’m a coward and deathly afraid of thunderstorms.”
His eyes widened. “You’re no coward, Leah. A coward wouldn’t have run out into the storm to see her horse to safety.”
Leah blinked, pleased by his words.
“I’ll not say a word about today, Leah.” Henry looked sad, and Leah struggled with the urge to do something to make his sadness go away. “No one will know that you spent any time here with me in the store. Your secret is safe.”
And for some odd reason, Leah felt dejected as he preceded her out of the room, then out of the store...and as she watched him open the barn doors for her and waited for her to get into her wagon. As she steered her buggy home, the feeling intensified and tears stung her eyes. She had no idea why she was so emotional about taking shelter during a thunderstorm.
* * *
Henry stood near the barn and watched Leah leave. His thoughts were in turmoil. Everyone in the community had forgiven him for keeping silent except Leah Stoltzfus—and himself. Despite his hurt feelings, he liked being in Leah’s company. She was a mystery that he wanted to unravel. It was true that he hadn’t been back to her church community. His family had left after learning about Isaac’s involvement in the vandalism to Whittier’s Store. His father didn’t want Isaac to be a bad influence, which made him feel worse. After he’d come forward and confessed and told the truth about Isaac’s innocence before Leah’s church community, his parents had been so horrified by Henry’s involvement that they’d felt compelled to stay with their new church district. Despite the new people he’d met, he missed his friends. Isaac had been more than generous in his forgiveness of him. They were close friends again, and Henry could never repay Isaac enough for thinking to protect him by accepting blame.
He’d wanted for a long time to return to the church community he’d been a part of for most of his life. He wanted to see the Lapps every Sunday, to spend more time with Isaac and his siblings, and the Zooks and all of the other families he’d known and cared about. After this afternoon he wanted to see and spend time with Leah again. One way or another he’d find a way to make her forgive him—and like him. There was something about the woman that made his heart race. She made him feel alive. From the moment he’d seen her outside the door, he’d known who she was. He was glad that he’d been there to make sure she was all right. He’d liked helping her, wished he could have done more.
Henry