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A Love Made New
By Kathleen Fuller Thomas Nelson
Copyright © 2016 Kathleen Fuller
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7180-3331-6
CHAPTER 1
Three months later
Abigail'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-1 aw 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.
Wow. She was soft. Very soft. She also smelled good, a sweet combination of vanilla and peppermint. His arm tightened around her. Her plump cheeks were flushed with cold. His fingers gathered a bit of her dress as he squeezed her side, her face inches from his. He was close enough to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her.
She wriggled in his grasp. "What are you doing? "
He couldn't think. He couldn't speak. He almost couldn't breathe. Holding her like this ... there were no words for how he felt.
"Asa?"
Her urgent tone took him out of his daze. He released her. "Uh, sorry." But he wasn't, not really. He locked his eyes with hers. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part. Wishing and hoping that the reason she was still there, that she was standing in the cold gazing at him, was that she felt it, too, the tug of an invisible cord tying them together.
Then she backed away, stepping over the dead tree. Her eyes still wide with what he could now see was confusion, she turned and left.
Asa didn't follow. Instead he looked up at the treetops. "Okay, Lord. I have nee idea what I'm doing." Abigail had to think he was ab im kopp. After everything that had happened in the past few months, he probably was.
He started back toward the Schrocks' house, determined to avoid Abigail. He was out of line holding her the way he had. Although she wasn't with Joel, she hadn't shown an inkling of interest in Asa, either. He didn't want to scare her away.
But it was hard when he was so scared himself. His feelings frightened him. The intensity, the unexpectedness, and the way he felt and heard God pushing him toward her. He wished he knew why. He wished he could step back and look at the situation logically, the way he usually did. Yet when it came to Abigail, logic was not what came to mind.
When he reached the house, he went inside the mudroom and removed his coat and wet boots. He could hear the murmur of the wedding guests as they ate and visited, sounding like they were having a good time. As he passed through the kitchen, he saw Sadie, Irene, Rhoda Troyer, and Andrew's mother, Naomi, cutting a variety of pies.
He walked into the living room, intent on visiting with the rest of the wedding guests so he could put Abigail out of his mind. But he'd taken only two steps forward when he saw her, separate from everyone else, and his heart started hammering in his chest. And although he knew he shouldn't, he couldn't keep himself from going to her again, even though she had left him only moments before. She was alone ... and he needed to let her know she didn't have to be.
CHAPTER 2
When Irene went back inside the Schrocks' house after talking to Abigail, people were milling about in the living room, the low hum of conversation punctuated with a loud laugh or two. It was crowded in there, so she decided to go back into the kitchen to offer help. But she delayed when she saw her mother alone near the stairs in the living room. That wasn't like Mamm. She was always social at gatherings and weddings. Irene went to her, frowning a bit at her mother's downcast eyes. "Mamm?" She touched her mother's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"
Mamm turned to Irene, her eyes shiny behind her wire-framed glasses. Then she shook her head. "Don't worry. Everything is fine." She looked over at Joanna and Andrew, who were visiting with a few of their friends. "It's mei sohn's wedding day, and he's married a wonderful woman. I'm happy for both of them."
"But?"
"But ... I wish yer vatter was here."
Irene nodded. She wished Daed was here too. Familiar resentment burrowed in her heart. A force of habit she'd developed over more than a decade. She calmed the feeling by reminding herself that what she had believed since she was thirteen years old wasn't true. Her father hadn't abandoned her, Andrew, and Mamm for another woman. Not that the real reason he left was much better. But he hadn't betrayed their family. He had never forsaken his love for Mamm — and according to her mother, he had never stopped loving his children. Yet it would take more than the truth and a few reassurances from Mamm to make her fully believe it. "Have you heard from him lately?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from A Love Made New by Kathleen Fuller. Copyright © 2016 Kathleen Fuller. Excerpted by permission of Thomas Nelson.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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