An Amish Man of Ice Mountain (The Amish of Ice Mountain Series Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter Four

Joseph looked up from the copy of
The Budget
that his
fater
regularly mailed him, when Edward unlocked the door and walked into their room at the inn. His
bruder
was mud-stained and reeked of alcohol.

“Tell me you spent all afternoon waiting around here for me.” Edward belched, then groaned.

“Actually, not.”

“Well, why do you have that stupid, moon-eyed look on your face? Don’t say you met a woman?”

Joseph resisted the urge to shift in his chair and kept his expression deliberately calm. “You’re drunk.”

“
Jah
, I am. And hungry too. Let’s go get supper once I’ve had a bath.” Edward walked into the closet, obviously aiming for the bathroom.

“If you can find the tub,” Joseph said dryly. He went back to his paper while Edward muttered a curse and slammed the bathroom door. Then Joseph realized that he’d read the same line over five times. He lowered the paper and thought back to his spontaneous afternoon picnic.

He’d deboned and filleted the fish easily with the knife he carried when he wasn’t working. Then he’d struck a match and got a wood fire going in the semi-rusted outdoor grill. He heated his knife and used it to scrape off the grill, enjoying the feel of doing something simple with his hands, and missing Ice Mountain.

Priscilla had returned with Hollie after twenty minutes or so; and against his will, and despite his earlier resolve, he’d felt his pulse pick up as he realized that he couldn’t, in all decency, let them go on living in a car for much longer. But he had no idea how to solve the problem
. Spend time with them . . . Get to know them better.
The words had come from deep within his spirit and he knew they were from
Derr Herr.
So, he’d applied himself with vigor toward fixing the food and making simple conversation.

Priscilla had gotten a small plastic bag from the back of her car and he’d watched her deftly shake the batter onto the fish in the bag.

“Mmm.” Hollie had sniffed the air when he’d started to fry the fish. “That smells good. I’m awful hungry.”

Something had pulled hard inside of him, and he’d glanced at the child with deep sympathy. His own
dat
might not have done the best job raising him, but he’d never gone hungry.

“What’s your favorite food?” he’d asked Hollie, then could have kicked himself when the little girl’s blue eyes took on a wistful look.

“Ohhh, Mommy’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes, but we haven’t had it in a while, ’cause there’s no oven in the car.” She’d giggled then, though he saw Priscilla’s discomfiture and did his best to change the subject.

“Me,” he spoke up, “I like apples and onions, but I’d say fish and ice cream will do as well, though I find I’m not so hungry myself today. I think I’ll only have a bit.”

“Please, don’t,” Priscilla said low. He looked into her blue eyes and saw the pride there. “There’s enough for all of us.”

He’d nodded, realizing he’d put a foot wrong by wanting to give them his share. “All right,” he’d answered, looking back down at the tender fillets
. My, but she is a proud little thing, and brave too . . .

They’d eaten in quiet companionship, and afterwards he’d taught them both how to skip stones across the pond. He’d had to resist the urge to touch Priscilla when he’d wanted to show her the way to bend her arm, and decided that the girl awakened hazardous feelings in him he’d long suppressed . . .

“Joseph!”

“What?” He looked up at his
bruder
, startled out of his reverie.

“Are you coming down to dinner or what?”

Joseph gave him a wry smile. “Can you find the dining room now?”

“
Hou je bek
, will you?”

Joseph laughed. “All right. Let’s go.”
And I’ll see Priscilla again
. . . He didn’t want the thought to matter, but somehow it did.

Priscilla knew she was a fast learner and, even though it was only her second day at the inn, she found herself catching on to the hectic rhythm of the place. For the most part, the roughnecks were respectful and cheerful, eager to talk about their wives and children but never crossing any lines. So it was a great surprise to Priscilla when a lean, wiry man she’d heard called Edmunds, muttered a ribald remark to her as she walked past. She felt herself color a bit but decided to ignore it and focused on serving steak to a table of four men from Texas.

She was aware when Joseph entered, wearing a light blue shirt and suspenders with his dark pants. By their similar build, she decided that the man with him must be his brother, though the brother was as fair as Joseph was dark. She pulled out her order pad and was easing through the crowd toward their table, her heart beating a bit faster as she recalled his kindness to Hollie at the pond that afternoon. Then someone brusquely reached a strong arm around her waist and she found herself flat in the lap of the mean-eyed man, Edmunds.

She struggled to rise, desperately wanting to handle the situation without causing much notice, but the man had a hand in her hair.

“Well now, what do we have here? As fine a filly as I’ve seen in quite some time. I wonder which way she likes to be rode, boys. What do you say?”

Priscilla pushed against his chest and noticed that someone clapped a large hand on Edmunds’s shoulder. She looked up in mute fury and saw Joseph towering over them. Edmunds turned his head slowly, without releasing her.

“Aww, it’s the pretty Aim-ish boy come to the rescue. What you gonna do, Aim-ish? Fight me for the first ride?”

“Joseph, it’s all right,” she hissed.

Edmunds laughed. “Oh, it’s Joseph, is it? So you two have met before? Tell me, Joseph, how was she?” He jostled Priscilla against his lap suggestively.

“I’d like to see you outside, Edmunds. Whether you let her go and come or not is up to you, but I promise you won’t like the consequences either way.” Joseph’s tone was level, almost pleasant.

Priscilla found herself summarily dumped onto the floor as Edmunds rose. “Be right back, little filly.”

She scrambled to her feet, noticing the sudden quiet of the place, as Joseph turned and started outside, with Edmunds hard on his heels. She longed to follow but decided it would only cause more fuss, so she swallowed hard and returned to where Joseph’s brother sat.

“May I help you?” she asked clearly, and the place began to resume its hubbub of conversation.

Joseph’s brother narrowed his blue eyes and half smiled. “
Nee
, I don’t think you can. I say you won’t be able to concentrate until my
bruder
walks back in that door. You know, the
Amisch
don’t fight, as a rule, and Edmunds is a snake. But Joseph wouldn’t take kindly to me interfering. I’m Edward, by the way.”

“Priscilla,” she whispered, gesturing to her name tag. “I’m sorry for this; I hope he’s all right.”

Edward nodded. “Don’t apologize for Edmunds . . . and don’t underestimate old Joe.”

Priscilla nodded, but she wasn’t fully convinced . . . she knew the brutality of men like Edmunds firsthand.

 

 

Joseph turned in the shadows to lean casually against the back wall of the inn as Edmunds gave a low growl and lunged at him. Joseph stepped aside and put a restraining hand on the wiry man’s shoulder, holding him easily at bay.

“You know, Edmunds, we Aim-ish are a strange lot. We’ve got certain customs that they won’t tell you about in books.”

Edmunds gave an ineffective swing and grunted. “Shut up and fight!”

“
Nee
, not until I tell you what you’re up against.” Joseph smiled.

“I’ve laid low bigger men than you, Aim-ish.”

“That may be”—Joseph pulled Edmunds close, holding the other man’s arms to his sides—“but I want to tell you that you can’t stay awake all the time . . . not for long anyway. And when you sleep, I’ll be there, with a knife, and a neat
Amisch
trick that’ll make sure you don’t . . .
bother
another woman ever again.”

Edmunds froze. “What are you sayin’?”

“I think you understand.”

“I’ll have you fired,” Edmunds blustered.

“I’ll still be there—sometime—when you sleep.”

Edmunds struggled to step back and Joseph let him go easily.

“You’re sick, you Aim-ish freak.”

Joseph almost laughed at the gullible man but managed to keep his expression serious as Edmunds staggered off to his truck.

“I’m going back to the man camps, and I’m going to sleep,” Edmunds roared out the window as he drove by.

Joseph lifted a hand and hollered back, “Pleasant dreams.”

Then he did laugh and made his way back inside.

 

 

Priscilla turned in amazement as Joseph walked calmly back in. He appeared completely unruffled, and none of the men bothered with him much except one of the big Texans, who called out, “Hey, Joe, should we be lookin’ to scrape that cowpoke up outta the mud out there? He is the boss, after all.”

Joseph merely smiled and took his seat, glancing up at Priscilla. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, but what did he mean, ‘the boss’? I didn’t cause you to beat up the boss, did I?”

“Nope.” He raised both his hands. “See, no blood. No nothing. Edmunds simply chose to go back to the man camps for tonight. And I think you’ll find in the future that he won’t be a problem here.”

“He better not be,” Mama Malizza boomed, making Priscilla jump. “You all right, honey? I warned you some of these men could get feisty, but that wiry fella rubs me the wrong way. You’re lucky you had Joseph here to watch over you.”

“Yes, I know,” Priscilla said, wetting her lips, grateful there was to be no repercussion from her own boss; the older woman might be loud, but she was kind.

“Well, if you’re up to it, let’s get back to work. These
Amisch
boys are partial to our T-bones, I think.”

Priscilla watched Joseph give Mama Malizza a quick smile, then he turned his gaze back to the menu. “I’m also partial to trout, fried over an open fire,” he said, apropos of nothing.

But Priscilla couldn’t contain the flush of happiness she felt for a second and ignored the considering look Edward gave her. Instead, she took their orders and went on with her work, the unfamiliar feeling of contentment in her heart.

“Well, what did you do to him, for heaven’s sake?” Edward hissed when Priscilla was out of earshot.

Joseph looked at him and shrugged.

Edward flopped back in his chair in disgust. “The only time the perfect
Amisch
man does something not
Amisch
, and you won’t share the details?
Kumme
on. And since when is it your style to rescue a beautiful girl?”

“She doesn’t need rescuing. And you think I pretend to be the perfect
Amisch
man? Maybe you don’t even know me, little
bruder
.”

“
Ach
, I know you, and you are as near to perfect an Amischeras I’ve ever met. You think it’s been easy growing up in your shadow?”

Joseph shook his head with a faint smile. “Remind me to enlighten you sometime, but right now, I want to eat.”

Chapter Five

“I wish we could see the stars,” Hollie whispered sleepily.

Priscilla stared up at the underside of the roof of the car as she and Hollie cuddled for the night. It wasn’t much of a view, but it was a small sacrifice to make while she tried to save and gain stability and safety for them somewhere.

“I could tell you a story about the stars,” she suggested, recalling a college astronomy class she had taken what seemed like light-years ago. She’d done dual enrollment her senior year, doubling up her last year in high school and her freshman year of university
.I thought I knew so much . . . then I met Heath.

“No story,” Hollie slurred, drifting off. “I like the real stars better.”

Priscilla frowned in the darkness. In some ways, her daughter had more sense than she did herself. She’d always loved stories, especially the romantic ones. But now, she wished every glass slipper might be smashed before another girl fell prey to the illusion of a prince on a white horse. Against her will, she thought of Joseph and that slimy man, Edmunds. Given another two minutes, she probably would have clawed the boss’s eyes out, but as it was, Joseph had stepped in.

She wondered what Joseph had done or said in such a short period of time to change Edmunds’s attitude, but she also told herself that it didn’t matter. She didn’t need a hero. She didn’t need anyone—except Hollie.
And what about God?
Her conscience got the question in before she’d even had a chance to thrust it aside, and she thumped her pillow, feeling the car shake.
I don’t need Him most of all
. . . And thankfully, she was too tired to refute those words as she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

 

 

Joseph closed his Bible and placed it on the bedside table. Then he switched off the electric lamp, wishing he had a candle to douse instead, and settled down beneath the crisp sheets. It was hard to relax in the comfortable bed when he knew that Priscilla and Hollie were outside in an uncomfortable, unheated car. He’d wanted to tell Edward about the situation but had gotten sick of being plagued all evening with questions from his
bruder
about Priscilla as a person . . .
nee
, as a woman. If he revealed what he knew about Hollie and their homelessness, Edward would have him married off mentally before the conversation was over. And marriage was not something he wanted to consider . . . ever.

He sighed and sat back up and switched on the light. He opened the bedside table drawer and withdrew a flyer he’d taken down from a telephone pole. The mini poster advertised a local farm that boasted a petting zoo.
I’ll still be off for a while . . . I bet Hollie would love it—I bet Priscilla wouldn’t. Still, to give the little girl a chance at some fun, it might be okay to ask. After all, it wouldn’t be like a date; it would be for Hollie.

Satisfied, he put the paper back in the drawer and lay back down to sleep, reaching for the light once more. A few hours later, he was awakened to the angry slash of lightning illuminating his room and he sat up to listen to the booming thunder and the pounding of rain against the window.

Immediately, he thought of the station wagon outside. He dressed haphazardly in the dark as fast as he could and grabbed his coat and hat. Then he quietly left the room, not wanting to rouse Edward in the other bedroom of the suite, and made his way downstairs. He slipped out into the terrible din in time to feel small pebbles of hail begin to fall as he made his way through the parking lot until he’d located the station wagon.

Louder than the din of the storm were Hollie’s screams of terror coming from within the vehicle. He approached the driver’s door, knowing he’d probably frighten Priscilla but unable to see any help for it, and started to bang on the glass window. After a few soaking moments, the window was rolled down halfway and Priscilla’s pale face appeared in stark relief against a flash of lightning.

“What do you want?” she demanded in shrill tones as Hollie’s cries magnified in intensity.

“Give me the child,” he said as levelly as he could without yelling above the noise.

“Are you crazy?” Priscilla cried. “She’s terrified!”

Joseph didn’t feel like arguing as hail pelted his neck, but he kept his calm. “I know that. Let me take her inside where it’s quiet until this passes. You come too.”

“I can’t! Someone will see.”

“Not in my room.
Kumme
on.”

He waited precious moments while he watched her struggle to decide; then she rolled the window back up. The rear door opened and he moved to quickly grasp the blanket-wrapped, screaming child in his arms. He watched Priscilla struggle out, then turned to run back across the parking lot.

Once under the awning of the inn, he gently rocked Hollie against him. “Shh, shh,
boppli
. I want to take you inside, but you must be still. Nothing will harm you.”

Priscilla had joined him, and he took in her shivering form and her red hair clinging to the perfect oval of her face.
Still beautiful; maybe more so . . .
He bounced Hollie against his hip and was amazed when the child began to giggle. His ears rang with the abrupt change in decibels and he had to smile. “All right, there’s a
gut
girl. Now, we must be very quiet because my
bruder
, Edward, is sleeping and we don’t want to wake him.”

He paused when Priscilla grabbed his coat sleeve, and he looked down at her.

“We’ll be all right,” she said. “We can go back to the car.”

He raised an eyebrow when Hollie’s mouth began to pucker. “Really? I think not.” And then he shouldered through the wooden door of the lobby. He sensed Priscilla’s presence behind him, but he still turned so that Hollie could see her mother.

“There,” he whispered. “Now remember,
kind
, very quiet. My
bruder
turns into an ogre if he’s wakened.” He took the stairs to the next floor two at a time, feeling Hollie’s soft hair brush his cheek, and he caught the sweet, baby scent of her. Ach
, Gott, but life was fragile. What kind of
fater
would leave a child and mother such as these to . . .
He swallowed and managed the card key to his room with one hand, then switched on the small bedside lamp.

Thankfully, Edward’s door was closed, and Joseph moved to lay Hollie in her bundle of blankets on his bed. But, like an errant puppy, the child rolled out of the covers and sat up, fully alert. Joseph drew off his coat and hat, tossing them over a chair, and went to the bathroom to fetch dry towels. He handed one to Priscilla, who was standing stiffly, the closed bedroom door behind her. Then he gave the other towel to Hollie, who giggled.

He quickly put his finger to his lips and Hollie did the same, quieting immediately. He turned to smile at Priscilla, who was assiduously applying herself to drying her hair, so he went to the closet and found another towel for himself.

He watched between swipes at his hair as Priscilla finished and went to his bed to begin to unbundle Hollie from her outdoor clothes in the warmth of the room.

“That’s quite a storm,” Joseph whispered as the lightning continued to illuminate the room.

Priscilla nodded, clearly not wanting to speak for fear of being overheard. Then she turned from Hollie and stopped still, gazing at Joseph with some emotion he couldn’t fathom . . .
Was it anger? Confusion ?

He looked down at his person to find his shirt all askew and mostly undone. Dismay filled him.
What must she think?
He hastily worked the pins in the dim light. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I was in a hurry—well, to check on you both—and I threw my clothes on.”

Again, Priscilla gave a stiff nod, and he wanted to groan aloud
. Twice now, this woman has seen me in a state of undress. And why? Because of my carelessness.

Then he noticed that Priscilla was shivering in her soaked clothes. He turned to the tall closet and pulled out the long nightshirt he’d packed but had never worn since he’d first come to the rigs.

“Here.” He crossed the room and handed it to Priscilla, then backed away.

She peered down at the bundle with a look of suspicion.

“You’re freezing in those wet things,” he said. “Put that on.”

She thrust it back at him and he shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t want—I mean ... please don’t stay cold on my account. That flannel is warm and you can—uh—change in the bathroom or I could go in the bathroom while you . . .” He drifted off when she set her chin and pulled the nightshirt back to her chest.

“All right,” she whispered. “Hollie, I’ll be right back.”

Joseph sighed.
She probably thinks I’m
narrisch,
but at least they’re out of the rain . . .

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Hollie started to bounce on the big bed. Soon, Priscilla was out of the bathroom, swathed from neck to heel and then some.

“Mommy, come lie down with me like you do in the car.”

Joseph watched Priscilla shake her head. “No, Hollie. Be still. The storm will soon pass.”

“But, Mama!”

Joseph couldn’t help glancing in the direction of Edward’s door and knew Priscilla must have seen him, because she marched with reluctance back to his bedside. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but barely glanced at him.

“
Nee, nee,
please. I will sit in the chair here.” He pivoted to sit with haste, unsure of what to do with his hands, so he simply shoved them deep into his pockets and leaned his head far back against the chair. But he could hear Priscilla move and he gritted his teeth against the intimate sounds that followed—the sheets rustling, the gentle creak of the comfortable bed, the light being turned out, and finally, a small feminine sigh of contentment. He closed his eyes in the flashing dark and tried to pray, but he found himself slipping into sleep before he could get very far and finally gave in to the pull of slumber.

 

 

Priscilla tried to relax in his bed.
His bed . . . the
Amisch
man’s bed . . . How in the world did I end up here?
Hollie turned on her side to spoon against her and Priscilla couldn’t help nestling against her daughter, but the motion brought her in closer contact with his pillow, his sheets. She couldn’t help but catch the manly scent of him; something like pine and nature and sunshine all rolled into one. Heath had smelled like strong soap—always. He’d believed in being overtly clean and she couldn’t have picked out his natural scent in a million years, but this
Amisch
man—she would probably never forget . . . or cease to remember his willingness to share his bed with two near strangers.

She listened and the storm raged on, convincing her that she might as well try to sleep as the man opposite her seemed to be doing. His head was tilted back, his chest now fully covered, and his long legs were stretched out in front of him. She felt bad for staring at the breadth of his bare chest earlier . . .
but I hadn’t expected it, that’s all.
She snuggled closer to Hollie, pushing aside the memory of the other time she’d seen him, and near naked at that. She sighed to herself and drifted off, reluctantly allowing herself to enjoy the comfort of a real bed.