A Love Made New (3 page)

When Abigail ran off, Asa had to battle the urge to chase after her. He grimaced and shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched her disappear down the road. Their conversation could have gone better. He glanced heavenward, something he'd been doing a lot of lately.
What's happening here, Lord?

He listened for a response. He heard crickets chirping, birds
tweeting, a cow lowing. But nothing that sounded like heavenly communication.

He blew out a breath. God might not be speaking to him now, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be. Lately he'd been talking to Asa loud and clear. But right now Asa could use some divine guidance about his sudden and inexplicable feelings for Abigail Schrock. She was Joel Zook's girl. But that didn't seem to make a difference to his heart.

He started walking again. He hadn't been lying when he said he was going in the same direction she was. He'd decided to take a walk instead of spending another afternoon alone in his wreck of a house. That's when he saw Abigail leaving Joel Zook's. Saw the pain on her pretty face. And knew he couldn't ignore her, even though he was sure she wanted to be alone.

It wasn't long before he passed by her house. He was surprised to see her standing on the front porch, figuring she would have already gone inside. He squinted. Was she crying? What happened between her and Joel wasn't any of his business, but if Joel had hurt her . . . His protective side kicked in. Instead of acting on it he went to the opposite side of the street. If she noticed him now, she probably would think he was stalking her. Not the impression he wanted to make. From the moment he'd seen her at church this morning, he couldn't stop thinking about her. And despite himself, he couldn't help slowing down, determined to keep his eye on her until she went inside.

He was struck by how strange his forbidden attraction to Abigail was. Then again, his life had been nothing but strange since he'd moved back to Birch Creek.

But why Abigail?

He halted his steps. She was the complete opposite of the
only woman he'd ever dated—and until a few weeks ago, had been engaged to. Susanna was quiet, almost to the point of shy. Abigail definitely wasn't shy. She was quick to grin and friendly to everyone, with the exception of him a few moments ago. Even then he could tell she was struggling to keep whatever was bothering her bottled up tight under a pretty smile and nonchalant expression.

Looks-wise, Abigail also couldn't be more different from Susanna. His ex-fiancée was tiny, blonde, and fair. Abigail had olive-toned skin, light brown hair, and almond-shaped eyes one shade darker. She was short, but curvaceous. He'd noticed that the moment he'd laid eyes on her that first Sunday she'd returned from Middlefield. That was also the first time he'd seen her since he'd come back to Birch Creek. She had changed from the thin, boyish girl he'd remembered as a young teen into a stunning woman with plenty of curves in all the right places.

He looked at her again. She was in pain and he wanted to comfort her. Yet not only did he not have the right, he knew she wouldn't want him to.

After a few more minutes she went inside. Asa ran a hand over his face, then he quickened his pace and went home, still thinking about her. What he felt for Abigail was more intense than anything he'd experienced with Susanna. Considering he'd nearly married Susanna, that was saying something.

Half an hour later he was standing in his empty living room, staring at the single rocking chair sitting by the woodstove. He'd picked it up at a secondhand store, but he had no other furniture. Most of his money had gone to buying, cleaning up, and restoring the house his parents used to own. It had been forced into foreclosure and then trashed by the former owners. Or by squatters. He had no idea who had caused the damage. He just
knew this wasn't the house he now considered home. And it didn't matter how nice he fixed it up, he could never imagine it being home, no matter what God had asked him to do.

Home. Shipshewana had been his real home . . . until God told him to give it all up, then had uprooted everything in his life and taken it away. He told people the move back was for good. Still, there had always been hope in the back of his mind that God would let him return to Indiana, regain the job he'd lost for no reason, and somehow convince Susanna to forgive him for leaving her. Before, he had been content. Not overly happy, but life had been . . . decent.

He yearned for that complacency right now. He didn't like what he was feeling—guilt with a dose of self-loathing thrown in. He was attracted—deeply attracted—to a taken woman. God wouldn't condone this. Asa had spent the last couple of months trying to follow God's will, to be obedient. And he had been until now. Because for the past half hour his mind had been filled with disobedient thoughts.

He plunked down in the rocking chair and stared at the empty woodstove. Then he closed his eyes, and as he'd done more of lately than ever before, he started to pray. For direction. For forgiveness. For his heart to change. And for Abigail to find peace.

T
HREE MONTHS LATER

A
bigail's mouth ached from holding her smile. As she watched Joanna marry Andrew Beiler, she struggled to be happy for her. Deep down she was. After everything her sister had gone through—being the only survivor in the buggy crash that killed their parents, spending over a month in rehabilitation for a broken pelvis, and having a permanent scar on her face from when she was thrown out of the buggy—she deserved to marry the man she'd loved since she was a young girl. Andrew and Joanna were perfect for each other. They'd had some problems along the way to get to this point, but as she saw her sister gaze into her new husband's eyes, she knew their relationship was stronger than ever. Andrew's love had never wavered.

She glanced around the living room, widening her grin as much as she could at the crowd of friends and family who were in attendance. She probably looked deranged. But as Joanna's maid of honor, she didn't want to wreck her sister's day by revealing her turbulent emotions.

With each minute that passed Abigail struggled to hold on to her composure. She glanced past Joanna and saw Asa, who was standing on the other side of Andrew. Her eyes met his and he gave her a small smile. It didn't help. He was Andrew's best man, but she'd had limited contact with him since the day Joel had broken up with her. Which was fine with her. She didn't want to see him anyway. He'd witnessed the aftermath of the most humiliating experience of her life.

After what seemed like hours, Bishop Yoder finally pronounced Joanna and Andrew husband and wife. Abigail couldn't watch as her sister and new brother-in-law exchanged a quick kiss. She looked at the crowd again, which was a mistake. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Joel and Rebecca. Bitterness churned in her stomach. Rebecca had visited Abigail to apologize a week after Joel broke up with her. “It happened so fast,” she'd said, worrying the strap on her purse. “I know it wasn't right . . . but we couldn't help it. We fell in love.”

Love. Even from across the room and surrounded by a crowd of people, Abigail could see the way Joel looked at Rebecca. He'd never looked at her with such all-consuming affection. Joanna had asked Abigail if it was all right if Joel was invited to the wedding. Abigail didn't protest. It wasn't as if she had a choice—everyone else in their small district had been invited. To exclude Joel and Rebecca would show everyone that Abigail hadn't forgiven them. And according to her faith she had to.

But some days, like today, she wasn't in a forgiving mood.

She felt Joanna touch her arm. The ceremony was over. Abigail pasted her smile back in place and hugged her sister. “Congratulations! I'm so happy for you.” And she meant it. She released Joanna and looked at Andrew, her smile feeling less forced. Despite her own pain, she was truly excited for them both.

Andrew grinned as he reached for Joanna's hand. Abigail glanced at their fingers clasped together, and happiness gave way to envy. More people crowded around to congratulate the newly married couple. The Schrock house was large, but to Abigail it became suffocating. She needed a break from all the wedded bliss.

She slipped out of the living room, but not before seeing Sadie and Aden gazing tenderly at each other. Another rock-solid marriage. Another reminder of what she didn't have.

She went outside and stood on the back patio, thankful for the cold January air. Snow tipped the ends of the evergreen trees in her backyard and a thin layer covered the ground. She hugged her arms around her shoulders, already shaking from the freezing air, but she couldn't bring herself to go back inside and get a coat.

“That was a lovely wedding.” Irene Beiler, Andrew's older sister, came up beside her.

Abigail turned and tried to muster another smile. She only managed half of one. “
Ya.
It was very nice.”

“I'm glad they finally tied the knot. I was a little worried because . . . well, you know.”

Abigail nodded. Joanna and Andrew were supposed to marry last October, shortly after she'd returned from Middlefield, but her sister had called off the wedding at the last minute. At the time Abigail had been furious. How could Joanna throw away the love of a good man who wanted to marry her? Later she understood why Joanna had terminated the wedding, and it had been the right decision. “I don't think anything would have prevented them from getting married today.”

“True. They had some things to work out, and I'm glad they did. I've never seen
mei bruder
so happy.” Irene hugged her arms. “It's freezing out here. Are you coming back inside?”

“In a little bit. It's too crowded in the
haus
right now.”

“I'll take the crowd over the cold. See you later.”

Once Irene was gone, Abigail's smile slid from her face. She stared straight ahead, the cold air not only dulling her body but also her emotions. She should be used to that dull ache. It had been her constant companion for the past three months. But she'd take the numbness over sharp pain any day. She moved off the patio and walked through the yard, snow covering the toes of her shoes. After walking for a few minutes, her feet grew numb.

But she continued to trudge in the snow. Her lips were stiff, she couldn't feel her nose, and it felt like she had cinder bricks tied to her ankles. And still she walked, toward the copse of trees to the left of the property where the family dog, Homer, liked to play. Homer was leaving with Joanna and Andrew after the wedding. Abigail would miss the adorable mutt, but he and Joanna were attached to each other. Homer had been a fitting wedding gift from Sadie to their younger sister.

“Abigail.”

This time she recognized the voice behind her. Asa. She closed her eyes, composed herself, and tried to make her lips curve into a smile. It was getting harder and harder to do, and not because of the cold. She turned and faced him. “Hi,” she said, as if standing in the frigid weather in nothing but a dress on her sister's wedding day was the most normal thing in the world.

But Asa wasn't smiling back. “Why are you out here without a coat?” He was wearing his Sunday clothes—black pants, white shirt, and black vest. He'd left his black hat inside and his dark, wavy hair collected the snowflakes that had started to fall. He had the thickest hair she'd ever seen, and it was the most unusual blue-black color. His lashes were also full and thick. They surrounded his eyes, pale gray irises rimmed in darker gray. His square jaw always seemed to have a shadow of dark stubble. He
wasn't as tall as Joel, who was nearly a foot taller than she was. But she still had to look up to him.

She yanked her gaze from him and shivered. What was she doing, staring at him like . . . like he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen? Probably because he was. That was a fact.

Without a word he took off his coat and put it around her shoulders, then blew out a frosty puff of breath. He smelled good, like he'd been chewing cinnamon gum. Or eating a cinnamon roll. What she wouldn't do for a cinnamon roll right now. Great, now she was thinking about food. Then again, when wasn't she thinking about food? Since her breakup with Joel, she'd tried several diets, only to fail every time. At first she'd told her sisters she was trying to lose weight. But after her failure, she kept the rest of her attempts to herself.

Her smile disappeared. She couldn't even keep that steady. She was a mess.

“Keep it as long as you need to,” he said, the sleeves of his white shirt billowing in the bitter wind.

She couldn't let him freeze out here. She started to pull off his coat, but he held up his hand.

“I mean it, Abigail. If you're going to stay outside, you have to have a coat. I don't want you to get sick.”

She stilled at his words. He sounded like he cared. Like he
really
cared. Her heart sparked back to life and she started to snuggle into the welcome warmth of his coat, breathing in the scent from the fabric. Even his coat smelled good, and she caught hints of wood smoke and cinnamon. Then she stopped moving. Her heart froze over again and she took off the coat.

“Abigail—”

“It doesn't fit.” She handed him the garment.

He looked at the coat, then back at her. “You barely put it on.”

Something brittle snapped inside her. “Fine. You want me to prove it?” She stuck her arms through the coat, the fabric straining at the seams. The front of the coat gaped open. Asa was lean. She was anything but.

His eyes—those gorgeous eyes—filled with pity. “It's better than
nix
.”

She yanked off the coat and heard a couple of the stitches pop. That was the last straw. She threw it at him before turning and fleeing into the woods.

At this point, Asa wondered if he'd do anything right when it came to Abigail. When he found out she and Joel had broken up, he was thrilled. He felt guilty, but happy. Now he didn't have to feel awful about his interest in her. But he had noticed she wasn't herself. Her smile had a bitter hint to it and the joy had left her eyes. So he held back, kept his distance because he knew what it was like to mourn a breakup. Yet moments ago when he saw her standing in the yard without a coat on, he couldn't stay away.
I guess I should have.

He stared at the grove of trees. She couldn't stay out in the cold much longer. He'd seen her red nose, saw her body shaking as she had struggled into his coat. He closed his eyes. He hadn't meant to embarrass her. And now he had no idea what to do.

Go after her
.

Asa looked up toward the gray sky, shocked. Snowflakes fell into his eyes, but he didn't blink. This was the first time he'd clearly heard God's voice in months. But he hesitated. He wasn't cut out for this knight-in-shining-armor routine.

The question popped into his head before he could prevent
it.
Are you sure, Lord?
Then alarm pulsed through him. Who was he to question God?

Go after her
.

He put his coat back on and trudged into the woods. He'd learned the hard way what happened when he ignored God. That's how he'd lost his life in Shipshewana before ending up in Birch Creek.

Although it was midday, the light was dim in the woods because of the snow and gray sky. He was about to call Abigail's name when he saw her silhouette outlined a few feet away. A jolt of attraction went through him. He was surprised she'd been embarrassed that his coat didn't fit her. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. He was thin, thinner than when he'd lived in Indiana. He'd not only lost everything, he'd lost weight too, although he was slowly gaining some back. He liked how her curves contrasted with his leanness. He'd seen shame in her eyes where it shouldn't have been. Anger too.
What should I say to her, Lord?
When God didn't answer, he realized he was on his own.

Asa tried to be quiet as he came up behind Abigail. With his second step he snapped a twig with his boot.

She spun around, visibly shaking. “Please
geh
, Asa. I want to be alone.”

He moved toward her. “I don't think that's a
gut
idea.”

“I didn't ask
yer
opinion.”

Her words were sharp, but she sounded more resigned than angry. She surprised him by not backing away. Now that he could see her face, he noticed the defeat in her eyes. “Abigail,” he said, softening his voice. “You can't stay out here much longer. You'll freeze.” When she didn't respond he added, “What about
yer schwesters
? They'll be looking for you. Do you want Joanna to leave her wedding to find you?”

Her delicate brows lifted. “I hadn't thought about that. You're right. I have to
geh
back. I don't want them to worry.”

For once she was listening to him. He planned to accompany her back to the house, but she brushed past him so quickly he had barely turned around before he saw her toe catch on the thin trunk of a dead birch tree lying on the ground. Instinct drove him to grab her around the waist to keep her from falling.