She cleared her throat again and then said, “Jah, I do have something I want to say. I’ve been putting it off the last few days.” She tightened her fists around the edge of the blanket, determined to communicate what she needed to. “For the last three years, I thought you’d rejected me. And then I thought you were lying to me about it when you returned to Lancaster. But after you told me what Barbara had said, I found out it was true. Someone did say I didn’t want you to come home.” She exhaled. “It was Salome.”
He glanced at her, his face pale in the lantern light.
“Jah, I was mad that you left,” she explained. “But I fully expected you’d come back, that we’d patch things up. But then I heard you were dating an Englisch girl.”
He quickly interjected, “Only because you were done with me.”
She nodded. “I must have said something to Salome that she interpreted that way, but it’s not how I felt. I can see now how hurt you must have been when you believed I’d rejected you, especially after all you’d been through.”
They rode on in silence, but then Jesse pulled his hand down over his mouth and tugged on his beard. Finally he said, “I did write you a letter because I wanted to hear it from you, in writing, that you no longer cared about me. Honestly. I sent it but never heard back.” He turned toward her, and for a moment she could see his kind, clear eyes.
“I never received it. I promise.” Her heart sank. All the mail for both the Dawdi Haus and the big house went to the box on the highway. Salome was the one who usually collected it. Had she not given Noelle a letter from Jesse on purpose?
They reached the covered bridge. The light dimmed as the beat of the horses’ hooves grew louder on the bare wood. “I’m sorry,” he said, “that you never received it.”
She nodded. She was sorry too.
“Instead,” he said, “I went out with the Englisch girl a few times, which was enough to know that wasn’t what I wanted.”
“I thought maybe you went out with her because she was more fun than I was. More outgoing.”
Jesse turned toward Noelle, his eyes appearing as if they were stinging in the cold. “But I always had so much fun with you. . . .”
Noelle stared straight ahead, not sure whether to believe him or not. “What happened after you dated the Englischer?”
“I met Alana.”
Noelle continued to stare straight ahead as they came out of the bridge. Of course his wife had a name. It stung for half a moment—until she recognized her jealousy. The woman was Greta’s mother. Jesse’s wife.
“I admit,” he said, “ that Alana and I probably married too soon. I was hurt. She needed someone to help her. I needed to pour myself into someone, something.”
“Was something wrong with her?”
Jesse frowned. “She had the same thing Greta does.”
“Oh no,” Noelle said.
He nodded. “But we didn’t realize how dangerous it was until she hemorrhaged after the birth.”
“Oh, Jesse.” All of her jealousy dissolved in an instant. “I can see why you’re going back.”
“Going back?”
“To Montana. With Greta. You want to be closer to Alana’s family.”
“Who told you that?”
“Barbara.”
He smiled wryly. “Nothing has changed in Lancaster County, has it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Assumptions. Gossip.”
“You aren’t going back?”
He shrugged. “Jah, I’ll go back to visit. I want Greta to know her grandparents and all of that, but Barbara misunderstood. I want Greta to have better care than Alana had.”
“What do you mean?”
“She inherited Alana’s disease. It’s called Von Willebrand, a blood disease, and it’s somewhat common among the Amish,” he said. “I plan to do everything I can to make sure my daughter gets all the care she can, close to the doctors who know what she needs. Noelle, I’m staying in Lancaster County.”
CHAPTER NINE
Dat beamed when Noelle opened the door and he saw Jesse carrying her empty crates.
“Come in,” Dat called out. “Can you sit for a while? Maybe have supper with us?”
Jesse thanked Dat for the invitation but said he needed to get home, joking, “I don’t want Greta to forget who I am.”
Dat nodded sympathetically. “She has a good father.”
Noelle thanked Jesse and walked him to the door. He gestured outside, and she followed him out onto the stoop. “I have a gift for you too.” He pulled a six-inch rectangle-shaped box wrapped in white paper from the pocket of his coat and handed it to her.
“Denki,” she said, surprised he would give her anything. “Should I open it now?”
He nodded.
She unwrapped it, opened the top flap of the box, and saw it was a red vase. Exactly like the one he’d given her before.
“Your Dat said the other one broke.”
“Jah.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, not sure if she was more surprised that Dat remembered the vase was from Jesse, that Dat had mentioned it to Jesse, or that Jesse had found another one just like it for her.
She looked up from the vase and met his eyes.
He smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
“To you and Greta too.”
“And happy birthday.” He smiled again.
“Denki,” she said.
As Jesse headed out to the wagon, Noelle stepped back into the house, fighting back her tears. Jesse King was a good man. If only she hadn’t doubted that three years ago.
She took off her coat, took a deep breath, and then turned toward Dat. “I have good news. At least I hope so.” She hung up her coat and explained that they could use the market kitchen and dining room for their Family Christmas. “I hope it’s not too late to notify everyone—and everyone can still make it.”
Dat grinned and grabbed his cane. “We need to call your sisters.”
“I was thinking I’d make the calls tomorrow.”
“No,
