Rebecca Byler - Amish Love Triangle

Copyright 2015, Rebecca Byler

All Rights Reserved

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to others. If you wish to share this book, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and it was not purchased then, you should purchase your own copy. Your continued respect for author's right is appreciated.

This story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to people is purely coincidence. All places, names, events, business, etc. are used in a fictional manner. All characters are from the imagination of the author.

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PROLOGUE

"S ubmit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom." James 4:7 (NIV)

It was just a piece of paper, but it burned in his hands like ember. In it was the most flabbergasting news; it pushed him to return to the place he promised he would never set foot again. Yet there he was, walking along its streets with a flock of tourists.

He slipped from the group and went on his own tour. The place never changed and he doubted he would lose his way through the line of one-story buildings.

Along Gap Road was a cozy little bakeshop. The bell rang as it always had upon his entry. Behind the counter was the same woman who was running the shop several years ago. She was a lot older now. The smooth yellow of her hair completely lost to a wiry silver.

There were a few people inside, all tourists, and they kept the old lady occupied.

Around the shop, he walked, brushing his fingers through every familiar surface. This place held the happiest of his memories. He especially remembered the girl with blonde hair. She was about twelve at the time, and he was fourteen.

His mother wasnt the nicest lady in town even if she sang the loudest every mass. She had a temper, and he would soon have a taste of it if he didnt hurry.

As soon as the bakers wife put the last bread in his basket, he grabbed it and briskly headed towards the door. In his haste, he bumped into someone, the contents of his basket flying and scattering all over the floor.

He turned as he straightened his suspenders, his eyes in a glare. Upon the sight of her he lost all senses, unaware that he was staring, mouth agape.

Before him stood an angel disguised as a little Amish girl. Hair, the color of corn, hid behind a white prayer cap, and beneath the dot of freckles, she flushed red. Her bright blue eyes were wide in surprise and apology.

Without any ado, she took his basket and picked the bread for him. He helped her of course. His father had always taught him to never let a lady do work that was his.

When all the pieces were gathered, she handed him his basket back. For a brief moment, their fingers brushed. Beautiful butterflies fluttered in his stomach. She smiled at the touch, and heidioticallysmiled back.

Now, he stood before the same woman who had served him bread, looking for any sense of familiarity. But there was none. She just smiled at him like she would with every tourist.

Is there anything you like? she asked.

The girls beside him giggled as they whispered to each other. He glanced at them through his dark aviator shades. One of them was looking at his direction, and she flushed when she caught his eyes at her. They were three lovely high school senior girls in decent Sunday dresses. He guessed they were there for a school field trip. And by the looks of it, they were from a Catholic all-girls school.

Sweeping his auburn hair with his hands, he turned to the lady and answered, An apple cake would be lovely, thank you.

She took a small round from the display case and placed it in a bag.

One apple cake for the handsome gentleman, she said as she handed his order. Anything else you fancy?

He hesitated for a while, wondering if she would suspect anything wrong with his question. But he asked it anyway, Is your daughter here?

The old lady widened her eyes in surprise. She dropped her jaw to mouth a question, but he cut her off before she could ask it.

I met her once. During her Rumspringa. She told me I could visit her here, he reasoned. Meeting her in the outside world wasnt a lie. The last statement was.

She nodded slowly in understanding. Then with a hint of contempt, she replied, Im sorry, dear, but shes not here.

Moses knew for certain what she was thinking. She was proud to say her daughter chose to stay within the community. And that he, a stranger from the outside world, could never take her away from her faith.

Only a smirk drew on his face. She did not completely know her daughter then, he thought. Not like he knew her. In full confidence, he replied, I see. Thank you for the bread.

The teenage girls headed out the same time he walked. He held the door for the young ladies, and they giggled even louder. The prettiest one, the girl he caught staring, purposely let her friends exit first. Before stepping through, she looked at him suggestively. With one corner of her lips curled, she said, Thanks. Never thought Id meet a handsome stranger here.

Despite her prim clothing, he couldnt help but think that she was not as prudish inside. All girls were like that. Even the well-covered ladies of this place. And the bakers daughter was no exemption.

And I was told only nice girls would be found here. Never thought Id meet naughty ones. Not that Im complaining. he teased with a smirk, his hand running through his hair.

This place was home to him once. It was where he lived his childhood, where the happiest of his memories were made. And it was the same place that robbed him of that innocence and careless joy.

Amish men on horse-driven buggies passed. One had a really long beard while the other was completely free of it. That would have been him and his father, he thought. Looking at them now was painful. Not because he couldnt be like that anymore, but because they looked worn out.

And there he was now, proudly staring at his reflection in the window of a homely restaurant. His longish hair tousled in that modern way that manages to look both stylish and effortless. Stubbles line his jaw to the top of his lip. He stood straight in his casual designer suitblack shirt and gray jacket.