Amish Heart (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy) by Miranda Rush Page A

was still trying to gather herself when the screen door slammed and Leah came into the shop.  Leah took one look at the rose and her sister’s flushed complexion and said, “The English.”  It really wasn’t a question.
    “Yes.”
    A cloud veiled Leah’s eyes.  “Rebekah—”
    “I know.”
    “You can’t—”
    “I know.”
    “Rebekah.  Do you like him?”
    Yes, I’m in love with him, Leah .  Her eyes glazed as she stood wordless.
    “Ezekiel would not like this.”
    “I know.”
    “Rebekah!   You are getting married.”  Leah searched her sister’s face for understanding, agreement, docility—anything—and finding none, shook her head with disbelief.  “You are marrying Ezekiel next month!”
    If only I could forget!   “I know.” 
    “Please ,” Leah beseeched her sister. 
    “Don’t tell Father.”  Leah regarded her gravely.  Now it was Rebekah‘s turn to plead.  “Please.”
    Leah paused, taking in the rose once more.  “I won’t,” she said slowly, “but I am worried about you.”
    Rebekah gave a small smile, meant to reassure her sister and friend.  Leah was not to be convinced.  “I am fine.  Truly I am.” 
    Leah hugged her and left, whatever she had come in for completely forgotten.
    I’m fine.   Words she had told Leah seconds ago resounded in her head.
    Taking the rose in her hands, she broke off the stem and tossed it into the trash.  Then she put the bud into her apron pocket and, st roking it, thought of the man she loved.
     

Chapter 9

Rebekah sat on the wooden floor of the room she shared with her sisters, alone, tears streaking down her face.  In front of her was her dowry chest nearly full of linens with lace crocheted around them, Depression era glassware, silverware , and quilts, all placed there in anticipation of married life, in anticipation of happiness.  Now none of it meant anything.  Nothing .  Rebekah hugged herself tightly, her body wracked with silent sobs.  Oh dear God, I wish Ezekiel were Nick.  Why couldn’t he be Nick?   The injustice grated sharply upon her.  Is it fair to be kissed like Nick kissed me and then be subject to marry anyone else, but especially Ezekiel?   Then she thought of the martyrs of her people.  They each suffered greatly.  Her dilemma might be fair in comparison, but it certainly wasn’t mercy .  It isn’t right!   She screamed inwardly. 
    Ezekiel had showed up again, merely days after that kiss, violently shaking Rebekah out of her dream.  I can’t have Nick.  I’ll never have Nick .  He had met her with his icy stare and simply asked for her father.  Not a “How are you,” or “How are the wedding plans coming.”  Nothing.  He just eyed her in stony silence and, upon his meeting with her father, Rebekah overheard something about them sharing the van to Wisconsin.  Holy shit, as Nick would say .  Now she would not be able to talk to Nick at all, she would always be under the observation of her husband-to-be.  Can’t Father see how much I hate that man!   She silently raged, holding Ezekiel’s repugnant image in her mind.
    Then she tried to calm herself, telling herself the words she had conveyed to Nick.  “Liking someone is not necessary for an Amish marriage.”   Oh, how damnable those words were now!  Her tears slowing to a trickle, she reached out and fingered the delicate lace of a napkin, of which she had so painstakingly worked on what seemed ages ago, before she knew what agony could be like.  She tried to imagine the occasion she would use the napkin.  Whatever it would be, there would be Ezekiel with his surly face and corpulent Mother Yoder, sneering down upon her.  Whatever occasion, it won’t be one of my choosing.  It won’t be a happy one. 
    Maybe it was that she no longer revered her wedding day as something to be joyful about or maybe it was that she needed to be able to exert a tiny bit of control in her life.  Whatever the reason was, Rebekah pulled