“You, too?” he breathed.
“Yah.” She gave him a nod. “But stopping this now is the right thing to do. We both know that.”
The right thing was often the hard thing—as an Amish man, he knew that.
“Should we head back, then?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yah. That would probably be smart.”
Because staying out here with her by the creek with all this privacy, he wasn’t going to be able to back his feelings off quite so easily. She wouldn’t know exactly how she made him feel, but he did.
So he headed over to where his daughter was still sleeping on the quilt, and he crouched down, scooping her up in his arms. Her head lolled against his arm, and he felt a rush of paternal love looking into her pale face. He’d never been able to see her as a baby—but he’d wondered about the child Tina had kept from him. He’d missed so much, but he wasn’t going to miss anything more.
Rue was his... And she had to be his priority.
“Could you hold her on the ride back?” he asked, rising to his feet.
“Yah, of course,” Patience said.
He’d have to be careful, because his feelings for Patience were growing, and if he messed up this fragile friendship with her, he wouldn’t be the only one to suffer. Rue did better with Patience in her life, too, and she didn’t have many friends who could look past her beginnings and see the bright little girl she was. She needed Patience more than he did—and if friendship was the way to keep her in his daughter’s life, then he’d have to protect that friendship with all his might.
His growing feelings would have to be curbed. There was no way around it.
The ride back to the house was a slow one, and the bright sunlight, the tumble of scattered clouds, the buzz of the bees around the wildflowers and the soft, floral-scented breeze weren’t enough to soothe Thomas’s heart. The ride out to the creek, with his boyhood memories, was so much sweeter than this ride back.
He couldn’t help but feel the weight of what he’d done. He should never have kissed Patience. It was wrong, overstepping... And on this side of it, he felt incredibly stupid. Would Patience ever be comfortable with him again? Amish courting was a slow process that involved much conversation before any kisses were exchanged. A man and woman needed to be certain of each other, to truly understand each other. Then there would be no regrets later on if the relationship didn’t work out—no lines crossed that would cause any undue embarrassment.
He’d moved too quickly with Tina in the city, too. But that had been pure rebellion—as was his entire time spent with his mamm away from Redemption. And it had been loneliness, too, because he’d missed his brother, his friends, the community that had become a part of him. He’d thought that being with his mamm would give him the comfort he’d been missing while he was in Redemption, but as it turned out, a mamm wasn’t enough. He’d needed more than her presence in his life, and he’d reached for a different kind of comfort. He’d known his relationship with Tina was wrong, and he’d done it anyway.
Was he making a similar mistake now—reaching out for comfort where he shouldn’t be? Because Patience was a comfort, a definite help, and having her around made an already difficult situation that much sweeter. Was he leaning on her because of his own longing for some compassion and support? Was that even fair?
And maybe on his Rumspringa, his loneliness was just part of growing up when a man realized that “home” was no longer at his mamm’s apron. Home started to take on a new meaning, to come with a new sense of urgency to create his own home with his own wife. But Patience had already made it clear that she couldn’t be the wife he needed.
Thomas flicked the reins, urging the horses to speed up again. One horse shook its head, making the tack jingle. He was letting his heart lead when he should be praying a whole lot harder. Hearts could go wrong so very easily, and there was no getting around the fact that his heart was definitely entangled with the woman at his side.
Gott, I’m sorry, he silently prayed. I don’t want to go back to old ways. I want to live a pure life that will please You. I don’t want to play with this. I want to marry the right woman. Obviously, I was wrong in kissing her, but...
He looked over at Patience with his daughter cradled in her arms, her cheek resting tenderly against Rue’s blond head. Her gaze was on the road ahead, and she seemed to be equally deep in thought.
I’m feeling things for her that will only lead to heartbreak if I let it continue. She’s beautiful, and kind, and sweet, and...never to have kinner. And I know what Rue needs—a family to give her a sense of who she is here in our community.
Whatever they were feeling for each other didn’t matter, because even Patience saw that Rue needed siblings if she was to have a hope of settling into the Amish life on a heart level. He couldn’t just raise his daughter for the inevitable heartbreaking day when she left them. If Gott had brought his daughter to him, there had to be a way to raise her so that she’d feel that an Amish life was home. There had to be. And Rue’s future had to be his top responsibility, not his own comfort.
Take it away, Gott. These confusing feelings that just keep growing—douse them for me. Because I can’t seem to get them under control on my own.
The horses knew their way home, and as soon as they got to the drive, they turned in and carried them
