Loving Isaac. Rebecca Kertz
from her empty cup. “I’m fine.”
He studied her with amusement. “You’re too quiet.”
“Quiet?” She appeared offended.
He laughed. “You were quiet.”
She scowled, then winced as if in pain.
“Your cheek hurts.” He clicked his tongue. “We have aspirin. I can get you some.”
“Nay.”
“Another cup of tea?” he asked.
“Nay.” She shook her head and grimaced.
“You need to stop shaking your head. It hurts you.” He stood. “Ellen—”
She blinked up at him. “Ja?” Her expression suddenly turned wary.
“You will let me drive you home,” he said, his voice firm. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Ellen relented. “Oll recht,” she said, surprising him. “After your mudder comes back.”
He inclined his head. His mam returned and he waited while the women discussed refreshments for their Wednesday quilting bee. Finally, Ellen turned to him. “I’m ready to go now.”
“I’ll help you,” he said quietly.
“I can manage on my own.”
He frowned. He didn’t like her coloring. She looked too pale. He exchanged meaningful glances with his mother. “Mam, we’ll take the ice.”
Mam nodded and handed the packs to Ellen.
Ellen accepted the ice bags graciously. They walked outside together until they reached the buggy.
“Ellen.” Isaac extended his hand toward her. “I don’t think we should take any chances.” She took it reluctantly. He felt a jolt as he felt the warmth of her fingers. He helped her onto the vehicle’s front passenger side. “Comfortable?” he asked huskily. He lingered, unable to withdraw his gaze.
“Despite my headache, sore cheek and throbbing shoulder?” she answered saucily. “I’m wonderful.”
Her smart answer made him smile. “Shoulder?” He puckered his brow. “You hurt your shoulder and didn’t tell me?”
“’Tis nothing.”
He didn’t believe her.
Her expression softened. “It doesn’t hurt much.”
Annoyed as well as concerned, Isaac rounded the vehicle, climbed in next to her, then grabbed the reins. As he drove silently down the dirt lane, then made a right onto the main road toward the Mast farm, Isaac found his thoughts fixed on the girl beside him.
* * *
Ellen stared out the side window as Isaac drove. Why Isaac? Why did he have to be the one who’d rescued her? She firmed her lips as she pressed the ice to her throbbing forehead. Her cheek hurt and she pressed the other bag of ice against her skin. She and Isaac had been such good friends. They’d walked often to Whittier’s Store for a soda or an ice-cream cone. They’d talked about their families, their farm and their Amish community. She’d known that Isaac had looked at their relationship as just one of friendship, but Ellen had hoped that his feelings would change to become something more. She’d never told Isaac of her love for him. After what had happened with Nancy, she would have suffered the ultimate humiliation if she had.
After the accident today, she knew she could trust Isaac for help, as he’d helped her with the buggy and her injuries. But she could never trust him with her heart, not after the way he’d accused her of being mean-spirited and jealous of Nancy when she’d tried to warn him about the English girl.
Her fingers tightened on the bag of ice as she lowered it from her forehead to her lap.
She couldn’t forget what she’d overheard that fateful day when Isaac, his brother and a few friends had been discussing Nancy—and her. She’d been coming around the side of the barn when she’d overheard them. She’d remained hidden, slowly dying inside as she listened to their conversation.
“Nancy is wonderful. I’ve never met a girl like her. I never thought I’d have a girlfriend like her.”
“What about Ellen?” It had been Nate Peachy’s voice.
“What about her?”
“I thought there was something special between you two.”
Isaac had laughed. “Nay, it’s not like that between us. She’s like Hannah—my sister.”
After hearing that, Ellen had run back the way she had come, her heart hammering within her chest, tears running down her cheeks. Thankfully, the boys hadn’t seen her, hadn’t witnessed the devastation she’d felt with Isaac’s few simple words.
Isaac had abandoned their friendship and never looked back as he’d moved on with Nancy. Nancy had made it clear that Ellen wasn’t needed in Isaac’s life, and Isaac, by dismissing Ellen’s fears, had agreed.
Ellen stared at the countryside as it rushed by her window. She couldn’t help but remember the humiliation she’d felt the first time Isaac’s friends had gazed at her with sympathy after his conversation about her with them. She hadn’t wanted or needed anyone’s pity. She still didn’t want anyone’s pity.
“You’re quiet,” Isaac said, interrupting her thoughts.
She met his gaze briefly. “I’m admiring the view.” She paused. “I don’t hear you saying much, either,” she added with a lift of her eyebrows before she looked toward the window again.
He laughed. “True.”
They had reached the end of the lane to her family farm. She watched as Isaac expertly made the turn onto the dirt road. As he steered into the yard, he sent her a look, his eyes briefly focused on the side of her face. “Your cheek is turning purple.”
“I’ll live,” she said flippantly. Regretful, she drew in a sharp breath, then released it. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s hurting more than I’d like to admit. I appreciate what you did for me.”
His eyes softened. “I’m glad I could help.” He drove the buggy close to the barn and parked. Ellen climbed out of the vehicle before Isaac had the chance to assist her.
Her mother came out of the house. “Ah, gut. You’re back. I need help with these pies for Sunday—” She stopped when she spied Isaac. “Hallo, Isaac. I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Josie,” he greeted her with a nod. “I drove Ellen home because there was an accident with the buggy.”
Her mother stiffened and studied her. “Are you hurt?” She turned to Isaac. “What happened?”
“A car passed too fast and spooked Blackie. The buggy swerved off the road,” Isaac said. “Ellen did a gut job with controlling your mare. She kept the buggy from rolling over into the drainage ditch along Ned Yoder’s farm.”
Ellen felt self-conscious with the two of them studying her.
“You’ve hurt your cheek and your forehead.” Mam looked with approval at the bag of ice in Ellen’s hands. “You iced it—gut. Katie was wise to give it to you.”
Ellen bit her lip. “It was Isaac’s idea. He gave it to me.” She didn’t know why she told her mother that.
Her mother gave him a half smile. “That was kind of you, Isaac.”
Isaac shrugged. “I was on my way home from Eli’s when I saw it happen.”
Ellen noticed that he hadn’t told her about the English boys who’d forced her from the road.
“I should go.” His gray gaze made an assessing sweep of her head and face. “You may want to keep that iced,” he said softly.