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Snow Globe (Amish of Jamesport)

By Laura V. Hilton

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Chapter 1

Kiss Viktor for me.
Esther Beachy frowned at the bedroom—his bedroom—she’d just finished cleaning. Freshly laundered sheets on the bed tucked under the tumbling blocks quilt, the pillows plumped, the dresser dusted, and the floor swept and scrubbed. Even the walls were washed down.
Kiss Viktor…
That wouldn’t happen. Not even for her cousin.
Besides, Viktor would be unlikely to allow Esther to get that close to him. Not even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. Want to, that is.
She rested the broom against the wall next to the bucket of water and went to open the window to let the fresh spring air in. Viktor had been on the Mississippi River for a month and the room smelled stale, with underlying tones of lemon-scented Lysol from the scrubbing she’d done.
Her fingers shook as she unhooked the latch and pushed up the window. It stuck a little, so she shoved harder. It grudgingly slid open. Reluctantly. As if it had problems with Viktor coming home, too. For thirty long, excruciating days.
He’d probably be upset to find her hired as a mother’s helper. More likely he’d be indifferent to her presence and only upset that his grossmammi had deteriorated to the point she needed a caregiver in the few weeks he’d been gone.
If Lily wanted to kiss Viktor, she should’ve stayed home, instead of going to another cousin’s wedding in Pennsylvania and planning to remain there for six weeks. She was the one who had a crush on Viktor. Esther pursed her lips. Lily, and every other unmarried female in the district. Except her, of course. He’d been the most annoying bu in school and she didn’t think he’d changed much. Even as a teen, he’d lured the pretty girls behind the barn during singings…
She shook her head and swung around on her heel.
She would not think about Viktor Petersheim any more than she had to.
Unfortunately, that’d be too much, with his coming home today.
Her stomach churned.
Kiss Viktor…
It was mean—hateful, really—of Lily to make her think about kissing him. Because, maybe, just maybe, she really did want to. Maybe she was envious of those other girls…
Her vision blurred.
Nein.
She plowed into something hard. Something thumped on the floor beside her, then strong hands closed around her upper arms like vises. Shockwaves pulsated through her.
She blinked. A firmly chiseled jaw came into focus. She raised her eyes. For a stunned second—minute—hour—she stared into brown eyes. Eyes that looked tired at first, but then became increasingly more…amused.
Viktor. Her heart pounded into a gallop.
Kiss Viktor for me… Her gaze dropped to his lips.
Ugh!
She planted her palms against his chest and shoved. He didn’t move. Didn’t even budge.
His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Didn’t think I’d come home to find a girl in my bedroom.” His hands loosened their iron grip on her arms and slid down to her wrists, leaving sparks in the wake of his touch. “And who might you be?”
He didn’t recognize her? Didn’t remember the girl who’d sat a couple of rows ahead of him in school? Of course not. Why had she thought he would? He’d been indifferent to her. She might as well have not existed for all he cared.
Esther jerked away and pushed past him. She grabbed the broom and bucket on the way to the steps. Water sloshed out of the pail and onto the floor. Lovely, another mess to clean up.
“Where are my grandparents?” All amusement had faded from his voice.
“Your grossmammi is asleep. Napping. Your grossdaadi went to the neighbors to help get the fields planted.” No need to say that the neighbor had recently had surgery and the community worked together to help him. She’d already said enough. She started downstairs.
“And why are you here?”
A step creaked behind her.
Irritation washed over her. Mostly at herself for not being immune to him. “She’s been sick. They hired me to take care of the haus and cooking.” Esther returned to the back door and rested the broom against the wall. Leaning over, she rescued the wet rag from the edge of the pail. She tossed the water out, aiming it in the general direction of the flowerbed. She lowered the bucket and turned toward the haus, her steps faltering when she almost ran into him again. “Why are you following me?”
“Sick how?” His voice lowered into a growl.
Esther trembled. “Ach, it started out as the flu, but then it went into her lungs and she got pneumonia and was in the hospital a few days. She’s weak and tired all the time.”
His mouth set and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “And no one notified me? I’ve been on the river, not overseas. I have a cell phone, I have email, I have…” He must’ve noticed her eyes widening because he fell silent. He seemed to study her. “So, who are you? Seems I’d remember a beauty like you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. But then… Obviously not.
She pushed past him again. “Esther Beachy.”
***
Esther Beachy? He turned to watch her go, but didn’t follow her. What had happened to the thin, gangly girl he’d gone to school with? She was a few years younger, but…well, obviously, he hadn’t seen her much since he’d left home. She’d filled out, developed curves where there’d been none, and… He shook his head. Had she always been this pretty, or had he been so shallow he’d never looked beyond her beanpole shape?
He didn’t need to think about that answer. His mouth twisted in self-derision.
He rolled his neck, trying to ease the tension caused by the long drive from the Mississippi River to Jamesport, then looked toward the neighbor’s farm on the east. He didn’t see any indication that Grossdaadi might be there. With a shrug, he headed back inside. Movement sounded in the kitchen, so he went that way.
Esther stirred something on the stove. He sniffed. Chicken… “What’s for supper?”
She glanced over her shoulder, but didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Chicken and dumplings.”
Made Grossmammi’s way, he hoped, with lots of chicken pieces and vegetables in the cream base. Not something they usually served on the riverboat. His stomach rumbled.
“Are you leaving after supper?” That sounded rude, but it unsettled him having her in his haus.
She laid the wooden spoon on a ceramic holder. “Nein. Your grossmammi will need help getting to bed. I live here.”
She lived here? A lump formed in his throat. He couldn’t think about that. He’d be outside working. Wouldn’t have to be around her much. Except every morgen, noon, and evening. He swallowed. “Grossmammi needs that much help? Thought you said she’s recovering from pneumonia. What aren’t you saying?”
“She was falling a lot.” Esther looked down. “She has no strength in her legs and can’t seem to take more than a couple steps without collapsing. She’s in a wheelchair now.”
His head began to ache as he mentally retraced his entrance. He hadn’t noticed a wheelchair ramp—either at the front door or the back. “Which neighbor is Grossdaadi working for?” He’d head over and see whether they needed him, and if not, what needed doing at home. A wheelchair ramp would be on that list, if what Esther Beachy said was true.
She raised her arm, and pointed to the west. “Noah Graber.”
Her dress material swirled and strained against her with the movement. His stomach tickled as if a swarm of hummingbirds flocked for the sweet nectar in Grossmammi’s feeders. He’d been away from feminine charms much too long.
He managed a curt nod and headed out the door.
***
Esther watched as he disappeared into the patch of woods separating his grandparents’ farm from the Grabers. She’d not been prepared for him at all. And as much as she wanted to blame Lily for making her think of kissing him, she couldn’t. Not entirely.
He was too handsome for words. His dark hair was styled in some sort of crew cut: super short on the sides, longer on top. And his eyes. . . like dark chocolate. Her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks warmed. She shouldn’t think of him like that. He may have come home to care for his grandparents, but he lived and worked in the Englisch world, traveling up and down the Mississippi River and going places she’d never see. Other than in picture books or postcards her friend and cousin, Rachel Miller, showed her.
He lived in a completely different world.
She pressed her hand to her chest to calm her erratic heartbeat and turned from the window. She put the lid on the kettle over the simmering chicken and vegetables, and hearing a noise from the first floor bedroom, went to check on Viktor’s grossmammi, Anna.
She opened the door a crack and peeked in. Anna sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her wheelchair closer. Esther entered, moving to stand on the other side of Anna, ready to assist her if she needed help getting into the chair.
“Danki, Dear. I thought I heard voices. Did Viktor get home?” Anna peered toward the doorway.
“Jah. He went to find Reuben.”
“Ach, I hoped he’d visit awhile first.”
Esther tried not to shrug. It was better he was away, as aware of him as she’d been. Before she embarrassed herself by staring at him. She needed to get her attention back on her duties, and not focus on the man who’d invaded her thoughts too many times since she’d woke up this morgen. The sooner they got back to the indifference she was used to, the better.
“Was ist letz?” Anna put her hand on Esther’s arm. “You have a discontent expression.”
Esther shook her head. “Nothing.”
Anna studied her. “Nein, something is. Tell me. Is something wrong with Viktor?”
Esther’s face flamed. Ach, nein. As far as she could see nothing was wrong with Viktor. Absolutely nothing at all.

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