The Amish Bride by Emma Miller Page B

compliments and blushing? Was this what she wanted, a woman of her age?
    “Just, whatever color dress you wear, your eyes look different. It’s one of the things I remember about you from school. Thanks to your eyes, I ate Henry Chupp’s whoopie pies four days in a row.”
    Puzzled, she stared at him. “How and why did you eat Henry’s dessert?”
    “I bet him that he couldn’t guess the color of your eyes each day before you arrived and I could.” He grinned at her. “Your eyes were always the color of your dress, and you always wore the same color dress on the same day—green on Monday, blue on Tuesday, then the green again and then the blue. On Friday it was supposed to be a lavender dress, but that week you wore brown instead and ruined the whole thing.” He shrugged. “I told Henry your eyes were going to turn purple and I lost.”
    Her eyes widened. Gambling was forbidden by the
Ordnung
, the rules most Amish communities lived by. “That was very wrong of you. We don’t bet on things, not horse races or what color a girl’s eyes will be.”
    Micah grimaced. “I know. Neziah found out and threatened to tell
Dat
if I didn’t make it up to Henry. I had to give him my Little Debbie cakes for a whole week. My favorites. The ones with the sticky cream inside.”
    “Served you right.”
    “I guess. Neziah was tough. I didn’t think he would tell
Vadder
because Neziah wasn’t a tattletale, but he had ways of making me toe the line. It was enough to make me give up gambling for life.” He sighed dramatically. “My mother didn’t buy us store cakes often. Usually we had the ones she made. Those Little Debbie cakes were a big deal.”
    “I suppose children do make mistakes. How old were you?”
    “Let me see. Neziah was out of school and working in the sawmill. I must have been eleven. Teacher used to have you give us spelling tests, and you always gave us more than one chance to spell the word correctly.”
    “You didn’t need an extra chance. You were the best speller in your grade.” It was strange to think that the rosy-cheeked boy in suspenders and bare feet she’d once known might now become her beau. Micah had always been a handful, never a bad kid, but always full of mischief. She’d always suspected that Micah had been the one who’d put a frog in her lunchbox when she was in the eighth grade.
    “But I always liked you, Ellen. Even though the teacher called on you to be her helper, you never took advantage of it. You weren’t silly like most of the other girls. You don’t play games with people.”
    She chuckled. “Don’t I? And who used to strike you out when we played softball at school?”
    “Not those kinds of games,” he said as he maneuvered the horse to turn the buggy around. “You know what I mean. You always went out of your way to include the shy girls in your group. You were popular with the teacher and the other kids, but it didn’t make you stuck up.”
    “I hope not.”
    “
Nay
, you weren’t. If you had been, I’d have noticed.” He glanced at her. “You didn’t have any brothers or sisters. That’s unusual. A lot of people expected you to be spoiled, but you weren’t. It was something my
vadder
used to talk about, how much he admired your parents for being sensible raising you.”
    “I was blessed with good parents,” she said softly. “And I think you were, too.”
    “
Jah
, but I wish...” He trailed off and Ellen suspected that he was thinking of his mother, who’d died so tragically in that van accident, the same accident that had claimed the life of Neziah’s wife, Betty.
    “That you hadn’t lost your mother.”
    “True enough,” he said. “
Dat
never says much, but I know he still grieves for her.”
    “We have to believe that she’s safe in the Lord’s hands.”
    “We do,” Micah agreed. “I pity those who have no faith to hold them up in hard times. It must be bitter...not to know that.” His brow furrowed. “Easier by far for me,