The Amish Heart of Ice Mountain by Kelly Long Page B

wanton . . . I confess that I’m wanton for desiring my husband’s touch, Derr Herr . . .
    An abrupt poke in her ribs brought her crashing back to the present as Martha Umble gave her a smile.
    â€œThought you were drifting off,” the older woman whispered.
    Sarah flushed and shook her head.
    Though she tried to keep her attention on the bishop, her gaze wandered until she saw Edward’s bright blond head. He was sitting next to Joseph, both bruders head and shoulders above those men nearest them. She had to control her rampant thoughts once more until Bishop Umble rose to preach, and soon she was caught up as usual in the auld leader’s odd but provoking manner of speaking.
    â€œThe most difficult type of forgiveness is often that of forgiving ourselves.” The bishop’s voice echoed in the Zooks’ biggest barn, startling a stray pigeon and breaking the fragrant silence of the somnolent summer day.
    Sarah watched as he paced before the community, his hands behind his back, his wrinkled face introspective and lifted to the sunshine that made its way through stray cracks in the weathered wood.
    â€œIf we are to ‘love our neighbor as our self,’ then it follows that we are to love ourselves. Yet many of us carry auld wounds, auld guilt—and we stay—unforgiven inside.”
    Sarah sucked in a breath as she thought of her own fater , and her gaze darted to where the graybeards sat together. Surely he carries the mystery of some wound inside of him. . . . Ach , Derr Herr , let him somehow be healed and learn to forgive himself.... Then her thoughts caught and held as her soul prayed of its own volition. And let Edward be healed as well . . .

    Even when he’d been fully sighted, Edward had hated the milling about that normally took place after the bimonthly church service. But now he felt positively trapped behind his eye patch by the general babble and blur of faces and found himself searching for his wife’s trim frame in the press of the community.
    Joseph nudged him gently. “She’s over there, to the right, by the barn door.”
    â€œIs it so obvious what I’m thinking?” Edward asked sourly even while he managed a polite nod at Ben Kauffman, the general store owner.
    â€œProbably only to me—and your frau of course.”
    â€œYeah . . . right.”
    â€œYou don’t think Sarah knows you?” Joseph asked mildly as he shouldered a way for them through the crowd.
    â€œ Nee ,” Edward returned, then felt himself broadsided by a female form. He half-turned, putting up a hand instinctively so he wouldn’t fall, and came in contact with a full breast. He jerked his hand away as Deborah Zook, the eldest of the Zook girls at twenty-two, cooed softly at him and then burst into a sultry giggle. He felt himself flush at his lack of coordination.
    â€œWhy, Edward King, and just out of service, too . . . whatever will my fater say?”
    â€œMy apologies, Deborah,” he muttered stiffly. “But I’d wager your fater would remember that I’m newly married.”
    â€œI know, and lucky girl, too but I’d like to think that a man like you is wasted on someone as sedate as the new healer.”
    Edward felt an unexpected surge of anger at hearing his wife maligned and would have said more if Joseph hadn’t obviously taken the situation in at a glance.
    â€œWon’t your mamm be expecting your help with the food, Deborah?” His voice was cold, level, and Edward appreciated the interruption for once.
    The girl flounced away without another word and Edward exhaled slowly.
    â€œForget her,” Joseph said, “though she looks at you like something she could eat with a spoon.”
    â€œ Danki you lout.” Both bruders laughed low together as they cleared the barn doors and stepped into the late summer sunshine.
    Edward moved away from Joseph to make his way to Sarah, but his steps slowed as