Amish Sweethearts by Leslie Gould Page B

right now, but by spring they’d have calves frolicking in the pasture. And their big vegetable garden would be brimming with plants that would soon be heavy with more produce than they could use. And someday—probably soon—they’d have children.
    “Thanks for the ride,” Charlie said as Zane pulled up behind their black sedan.
    “Sure thing.” Zane was glad he had his sunglasses on as he tried to shake away the jealousy he felt. He climbed down from the pickup and dropped the tailgate so it was easier for Charlie to drag his bike out. Once it was out of the truck bed, Zane slammed the tailgate shut.
    Eve stepped out on the porch, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders. She waved and then started toward the men.
    Charlie wrapped an arm around Zane. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”
    Zane nodded, hugging Charlie back. Sadness replaced the bitterness he’d felt a few minutes ago. Charlie had been a good friend to him for years. He’d filled in when his dad was injured and out of sorts. Charlie had always encouraged him, along with setting a good example of what it meant to be a man. “Thank you for everything,” Zane said as he stepped away. “I appreciate it.”
    Eve hugged him too, and then stepped to Charlie’s side.
    “I’ll write,” Charlie said.
    “Thanks.” Zane stepped toward his truck. “I’d better get going.”
    They both nodded. “Godspeed,” Charlie said as he continued to hold on to the bike with one hand and his wife with the other.
    As Zane drove away he pushed his sunglasses up farther on the bridge of his nose and tried to pray. It seemed as if he couldn’t manage to put a whole thought together anymore, let alone a sentence. Just mismatched feelings. Kind to Lila was as much as he could manage after she’d broken his heart so badly.

    Christmas Eve morning, after a late breakfast, Zane hugged his grandfather good-bye first and then his dad. Next was Adam and last his mom.
    She squeezed him close and said, “Be safe, baby.”
    He used to hate it when she called him that, but this time it brought comfort. “I will,” he said. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
    “I know,” she answered. “Just be careful. Driving too. And thank you for staying for longer than you intended.”
    He nodded, feeling a stab of guilt for not staying longer. Itwould be his third Christmas away from home. Lila used to call him stubborn. He guessed he’d proven her right.
    “If you want, we can fly down to Texas before you go and drive your truck back,” Dad said.
    Zane nodded. “I’ll think about it.” It would save him from having to store his truck for a year.
    He climbed into his cab, waved again, and then backed around. As he drove off, the four of them stood on the porch, all waving. When he glanced into his rearview mirror for the last time, Adam was running down the lane. But then he stopped and put his hand up to his brow. Zane honked and kept on going.
    Zane wished he were a better son and brother. A better grandson. They were all more than he deserved. He’d been in a funk the last two and a half years, and he needed to get out of it. He should have gone to church with them the day before. It would have meant a lot to Mom. The truth was he’d been in a funk with God the last few years too, probably because he hadn’t gotten his own way.
    He sighed. It was time for him to grow up. He was going to need God now more than ever, and Charlie was right, he needed to stop sulking around the whole Lila ordeal.
    He slowed as he came to the Lehmans’ driveway, out of habit, and glanced down it. Someone, either Rose or Lila, was hanging wash on the line. Maybe he could just say hello—and then good-bye. He turned and proceeded slowly. It was Rose at the clothesline. She smiled and waved. He couldn’t very well turn around without saying hello, so he parked his truck and climbed down. Then he remembered the book he’d been reading, a collection of essays by pacifists. He’d leave