An Amish Man of Ice Mountain (The Amish of Ice Mountain Series Book 2) by Kelly Long

something else niggled at his mind, then drifted away.
    He stood up from the bed with some encouragement from the motherly nurse and winced when Priscilla offered him his right suspender.
    “I’ll only use the one. Danki .”
    She nodded, ducking her head, and he barely got a glimpse of her face, but something about her posture made him sense that she was nervous.
    “Is everything all right, Priscilla?” he asked quietly when she handed him his coat.
    She looked up at him, her beautiful blue eyes luminous, her pupils dilated . He shook his head .I could get lost in those eyes . . . like swimming in warm twin pools that envelop and slicken and speak of wet mysteries and secret places. I am losing my mind . . . maybe it’s the drug. I hope it’s the drug . . .
    “Let’s worry about you, all right?” she asked, and he nodded dutifully, feeling foolish for his thoughts.
    “Thank you for saving me, Joseph,” Hollie chirped between loud sucks on a purple Popsicle. She sat on a nearby chair, her thin legs swinging, and he had to smile.
    “You’re welcome, little one.”
    The nurse bustled over to Priscilla. “Here’s a prescription for pain medicine, if he needs it. Now, y’all take care.” A buzzer sounded from down the hall and she hurried out.
    Priscilla gave him his hat and he tried to lift his arm to put it on, but she took it back at his obvious grimace and stretched to place it on his head.
    “Danki,” he said, noting that she quickly took a step away from him.
    “Gaern gscheh,” she muttered.
    He smiled in surprise and she shrugged. “I still remember a little Penn Dutch from my mother.”
    “You sound like Joseph, Mommy . . . How come?” Hollie asked.
    “It’s only a few words, Hollie, in another type of language. Now finish up. We’ve got to get back to the inn. Mommy’s got to go to work.”
    Joseph glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it was after noon.
    “Well, let’s stop somewhere and get you something to eat before your shift,” he suggested. “I know I’m starving.”
    “Me too. Mommy, please?”
    Priscilla sighed aloud. “All right. I think the hospital has a cafeteria.”
    Joseph found that walking was not exactly comfortable, but he followed gladly in Priscilla’s wake with Hollie clinging to his left hand.
    They entered the small but bright cafeteria as sunlight poured in from large windows, highlighting Priscilla’s bright head. Her hair looks so soft . . . Joseph mused. Then remembrance slammed into him and he knew instinctively that he’d touched her hair, stroked her throat, kissed her mouth . . . He stopped dead still.
    “Joseph, what’s wrong?” Hollie tugged on his arm, then let go.
    Priscilla turned around and searched his face and their eyes locked. He saw the tumult of emotions in the blue depths and knew his thoughts were true.
    “Dear Gott—I . . .” He choked out the words, watching her face flame in acknowledgment, and was vaguely aware that Hollie had darted off in the direction of the food. “Priscilla, I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . .” Monster! I’m an unholy monster—she’s been through heaven knows what, and there I was touching . . .
    She stepped near him and shook her head. “Of course you didn’t mean anything. You were—drugged and I, well, I . . .”
    “Mommy!” Hollie cried loudly, breaking the moment. Joseph looked where the little girl pointed to a bulletin board on the cafeteria wall. “Mommy, look! It’s your picture.”
    Joseph saw Priscilla’s face drain of all color and for a scary moment, he thought she might faint.
    “Oh God,” she whispered, and started to walk toward Hollie.
    Joseph followed slowly, watching the tension in every line of her slight frame. He’d tracked wounded animals on the mountain and had the eerie feeling now that he was following a trail of misery that could end in nothing good.
    Priscilla caught her daughter’s pointing hand and pulled her close. Then she went to the