The Amish Widow's New Love. Liz Tolsma
Naomi Miller crossed the Masts’ side yard between the house and the barn, her brother Aaron beside her, bumping over the ground in his motorized wheelchair, the smell of new-cut grass assailing her. The shouts of the young people playing volleyball engulfed her as they cheered for each spike and every point gained. Near the metal shed, a group of teenage girls huddled together, white prayer kapp-covered heads bent together. Bunches of laughing boys hugged the barn’s back wall.
Her stomach knotted. Years had passed since she’d been to a singing. She didn’t belong here. This was all for her brother. That’s the one reason she came. He should be a part of the gathering.
Aaron tightened his shoulders and twisted in his chair, his broad-brimmed straw hat askew. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Nonsense. We made a deal. If I came, you would, too.”
“But they’ll look at me funny.” He pounded on his unfeeling, useless legs.
“People here are used to the chair. And at least you’re single and have no children. How does it look for me, a widow with an infant son, to be at a singing?” Wait, did she hear Joseph crying? Nein. She shook her head. Her son remained at home with Mamm, safe and sound asleep.
“At least you—”
“Enough of that. We’ll both have a wunderbaar time.” She swallowed hard. Maybe it wouldn’t turn out to be a lie. But her gut clenched when a picture of Joseph flashed through her mind. She wiped her sweaty palms down her dark purple dress. What if Mamm couldn’t get him to eat enough? What if he had trouble breathing again? Maybe Aaron was right. Maybe this was a bad idea.
He lifted his hat from his head and mussed his blond curls. “No girl is going to want a man in a wheelchair. That’s why I haven’t been to a singing since the accident. I wish you would never have suggested this to Mamm and Daed.”
She did, too. But what was done was done. “Which young lady do you have your eye on?” If she concentrated on Aaron, she might get through this night.
He turned to her. “Can we please go home?”
“Out of the question. Mamm and Daed would be disappointed if we didn’t stay for at least a little while. So if you don’t tell me who you’re going to sit next to, I’ll pick out the prettiest girl and bring her to you.”
All the color drained from his face until it matched the color of Mamm’s bleached sheets. “You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t make me show you I’m serious.” She couldn’t quite force a smile to her lips.
“Hold on. You don’t