Brush of Angel's Wings Read online

Page 9

Nathaniel created a gust of wind that shook the branches of the poplar trees. A balsam scent filled the breeze and drew Jordan’s attention upward.

  “That’s right, Jordan, look away. Flee temptation.” Nathaniel pressed his hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “Turn from temptation.”

  Tangus spoke louder. “Your heart desires her. It’s okay. God wants to give you the desire of your heart. Embrace it and run after her—after fate.” Tangus purred with satisfaction when Jordan’s focus shifted from the sky.

  Jordan watched Kayla head to the barn. She was so different from Rachel. She was open and eager to spend time with him.

  No! He closed his eyes to ward off being distracted. To mentally shake off Kayla’s image, he spoke to Micah. “You think we can finish before the sun goes down?”

  Micah evaluated the unbroken ground. “If nett today, then next week we will.” He looked at Jordan, considering him. “Grace would be pleased with you.”

  “Thank you, sir. But I still have a lot to learn. I don’t know much about plowing.” He fisted his hand. “I’m not good at milking yet either.”

  Micah smiled. “I meant not yielding to temptation.”

  Jordan shifted awkwardly.

  “May I ask a personal question?”

  Jordan coughed into his hand. “Sure.”

  “Where’s your father?”

  All kinds of emotions let loose inside him. “I don’t know. I guess he’s a truck driver. I haven’t seen him since I was . . . a kid.”

  “He hasn’t tried to reach you since Gracie became ill?”

  Gracie?

  “I’m sorry. Is this too hard to talk about?”

  Jordan shrugged. Micah was easy to talk to, but he’d never talked much about his father, even with his mother.

  Micah cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I miss the long talks my sohn and I had.” He peered at Clyde standing in the field. “What do you say we finish the plowing another day? I’ll fetch Clyde. You start the evening chores.”

  “I heard about your son. I’m sorry. It must be difficult without him. No one told me what happened.” Jordan wished he hadn’t said anything after seeing the pained look in Micah’s eyes.

  “It happened two years ago. He tried to save a stray sheep from the river and the current swept him under.”

  Jordan swallowed. He hadn’t thought about it before. No wonder Rachel was adamant about not being brothered.

  “I’m sorry.”

  When Micah’s eyes watered, Jordan had enough sense to give the man space. “I’ll start the chores.” He walked to the barn.

  Kayla looked up from tightening the saddle cinch. “Change your mind about riding?”

  He leaned against the support beam and crossed his arms. “No.”

  She flipped the stirrup down and gave it a quick tug, then took the reins in her hands. “Would you get the door?”

  He pushed off the wall and unlatched the door.

  The sudden light spooked Pepper, who sidestepped the entrance.

  “It’s okay, boy,” Kayla coaxed softly. The horse took a few steps back until he backed into the wall between the hay and the milking area, then he burst forward. The reins slid through Kayla’s hold.

  Jordan reached out and grabbed them as Pepper was about to speed by. “Whoa.” He pulled the horse’s head around so he could do nothing but move in a circle. “Ride another day. He isn’t settled.”

  She crossed her arms and planted her feet. “I’m not frightened by a horse.”

  She was foolish not to be. Dripping wet, she probably didn’t weigh much more than the saddle. She’d be tossed off him like a fly if Pepper decided he didn’t want her there anymore.

  “Are you sure?” This horse was clearly too much for the girl to handle.

  “Absolutely sure.” She let Jordan lead Pepper out of the barn and into the sunlight. Rachel was not far away, standing at the clothesline. He sensed her pretending not to notice him as she unfastened the clothing from the line. His stomach pitted with an odd sensation.

  Kayla came around the horse’s left side. “Will you give me a leg up?” She stood on one foot, her other leg bent at the knee, and looked at him, not giving him much choice.

  He hesitated. The horse rippled with energy, unable to stand completely still. Kayla hopped about to stay with him.

  “Jordan, please?”

  He put his hands underneath her bent leg, supporting it. She began to bounce gently. “One, two, three,” they counted together. On three, Jordan lifted and Kayla expertly swung her free leg over Pepper’s back and set herself in the saddle. As she secured her feet in the stirrups, he said, “Stay out of the field. It’s too muddy. I’d take the trail through the woods, but watch for downed limbs—”

  “Maybe you should ride along with me.” She smiled, looking coy and enticing.

  “I’m not crazy.”

  “And you think I am?” She held the reins tight as the horse sidestepped. “You wouldn’t be riding Pepper, you’d be riding a much, much tamer horse.” Her brown eyes flickered with an untamed spirit similar to that of her horse. They both seemed to have vinegar running through their veins.

  He grinned. “Should I call you a fool instead?”

  “If that’s what you think of me.” She reined her horse in a tight turn. “But a good Amish bu would repent over saying that.” She loosened the rein at the same time she nudged Pepper with her calves. The horse bolted forward and mud soon shot up behind his pounding hooves.

  He wanted to yell that a real horsewoman warmed up her horse before asking for speed. She wouldn’t hear and she wouldn’t care anyway.

  A moment later Rachel walked up beside him. “What did you say that Kayla said you should repent?”

  “She was teasing.” He shifted his weight when Rachel didn’t drop the scowl. “I called her a fool. That isn’t a big deal.”

  The women near the house were bidding each other good-bye.

  “They heard what she said too.” Rachel nodded toward the women who had just finished their sewing time. “A gut Amish bu would—”

  “I don’t have anything to repent over. I’m not Amish,” he said with a sparkle in his eye and a grin on his lips.

  The long-haired cat meowed, and Rachel stooped down to scoop him into her arms. “Smokey!” she cooed. “Where have you been?” As she rubbed him, he began to purr.

  Jordan backed away before the cat’s dander blocked his breathing. He collected the water buckets from each stall, then held his breath as he moved past her. So far his chest hadn’t tightened, and he wasn’t wheezing in the close proximity to the cat. But he could sense a sneezing fit about to take over.

  Jordan set the buckets under the well spigot and cranked the handle to prime the pump. Hooves pounded the ground. Jordan spun. Galloping to the barn, Pepper was riderless.

  Jordan bolted toward the barn to catch the horse. He grabbed the dangling reins, and as he quickly mounted the prancing horse, Rachel stepped out of the barn. He wasn’t thrilled about getting on this tightly wound bundle of energy, but he had no choice. It would take too long to saddle up another horse. He only hoped Pepper had a lot of his fire.

  “Tell Micah I went to find Kayla. She might be hurt.” He guided the horse to head in the same direction he’d watched Kayla go. God, I know I don’t pray often enough, but let her be okay.

  On the wooded trail, the budding birch trees offered an open view, but the fading light would become an issue if she wasn’t found soon. He spotted fresh hoofprints and began to follow them.

  “Kayla?” His voice echoed. He swept his eyes across the path. The rushing river grew louder. She had to be somewhere close. His eyes locked several feet ahead on her checkered shirt. Jordan prodded the horse to move faster and dismounted before the horse stopped a few feet from her.

  He looked her over from head to toe as he knelt beside her. She was caked with mud, but he didn’t see any blood. He tapped her shoulder. “It’s Jordan. Can you hear me?”

&
nbsp; She groaned.

  He reached for her hand. “Where do you hurt?” Just because there weren’t visual signs of injury didn’t mean she hadn’t suffered internal injuries.

  She managed to pull herself up to a wobbly sitting position, then winced and laid back down on the ground. “I’m fine. I’m just dizzy.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to move you if you’re injured.”

  “Jordan, stop. I fell off a horse, I didn’t . . .” Her voice trailed off as she closed her eyes. “I’m okay,” she mumbled, clearly not okay. “Really.”

  Jordan took a few moments to assess her. Nothing looked broken, and he presumed she would feel worse if she had more serious injuries. He slipped one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees and lifted her into his arms. “Just relax.”

  She leaned her head against his chest. “Is Pepper all right?”

  “He’s fine.” He hoisted her up into the saddle. She held on to the horn, swaying and barely staying upright. He slid his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over. Once situated behind her, Jordan held the reins in one hand while steadying Kayla by the waist with his other. He clicked his tongue and Pepper headed home.

  Her silence bothered him. He’d read once how a concussion caused a deep sleep. She hadn’t slumped over, but he hadn’t heard anything more than a faint moan.

  “You still with me?” He nudged her gently.

  After a short delay, she replied, “Yeah.”

  “Don’t go to sleep.”

  “On a horse?”

  He smiled. Perhaps her silence had been more a case of humility.

  Jordan held a tight rein on Pepper to keep his pace slow. In the background of the horse’s steps, bluebirds chirped and a squirrel scurried over the pine-needle-covered ground.

  “You were right about it being too muddy for riding.” Her voice slurred a little as though she were sleepy. “And that Pepper was a bit too crazy to be out on the trail.”

  He smiled.

  “Why is he so calm now?” She tilted her head back to look up at him.

  “Maybe because he’s done a lot of galloping this morning.” He shifted, very aware of her closeness. “You have to take control and show him who’s the boss.”

  “Maybe you can teach me how to do that.”

  “Maybe.”

  At the back side of the Hartzlers’ barn, he reined in the horse near the entrance. Pepper, glad to be home, was willing to stand still.

  Rachel rushed out of the house, Micah out of the barn.

  Keeping his hand on Kayla’s waist, and with Micah positioned on the other side to make sure she didn’t fall, Jordan slid off the horse. He slowly eased her down from the saddle.

  “Are you all right?” Micah’s forehead creased with lines.

  Still in Jordan’s arms, Kayla raised her head off his shoulder. “Yeah.”

  The deep lines on Micah’s forehead receded. He blew out a breath, putting a hand over his chest.

  “If you can take care of Pepper, I’ll take her home.”

  Micah nodded.

  Jordan carried Kayla across the lawn to her parked truck.

  Rachel ran ahead and opened the driver’s side of the truck.

  “The passenger side, please,” Jordan said.

  Rachel rushed to the other side and opened the door.

  New automobile scent penetrated the air. He glanced at the gunmetal-gray leather seat and hesitated to lower a mud-covered Kayla onto it.

  “It’s okay. Mud won’t hurt the leather. I’m such a fool.”

  “I wasn’t going to remind you of that.”

  “Because you’re a good Amish bu.” She started to giggle, then grabbed her side and took a sharp breath.

  He pulled the seat belt around her and clicked it into place. “By the way, I’m not Amish.” He closed the truck door and, turning, almost plowed Rachel over. “Sorry,” he said, reaching out to steady her.

  Rachel looked surprised. “You’re driving her?”

  “I have a license.”

  Jordan trotted around to the other side and climbed into the cab. He cranked the engine and marveled over the brand-new, high-tech system blaring music through spectacular speakers. This was one nice truck.

  After paying for his mother’s medicine, he had nothing left to make his truck payments and his vehicle was repossessed. Still, his stripped-down S-10 had cloth seats and a factory-standard radio. It wasn’t anything like Kayla’s top-of-the-line dual-wheel king cab.

  “Listen to how all this power purrs under your control. The same way she did in your arms. She’s not hurt.” Tangus chortled. “But you knew that when she pretended to be dizzy. She wanted your arms around her. And she felt good there, didn’t she? This doesn’t have to be the only time. It can be the first time.”

  Micah tapped on the window. Jordan pressed the down button, thankful to be distracted once again from thoughts that seemed to pull on him incessantly when Kayla was around.

  Micah looked over at Kayla. “I hope you feel better soon.” He turned his attention to Jordan. “I’ll fetch you in the buggy.”

  “Thank you. Denki.”

  He waited for Micah to move away before putting the truck in gear. At the end of the driveway, he glanced at Kayla slumped against the window. “Which way do I turn?”

  She pointed to the right. “Go about two miles, then turn left on Davy Lane.”

  He waited for a car to pass, then eased onto the road. Once he made the left turn, the name of the road dawned on him.

  “You have a road named after you?”

  “After my grandfather.” She weakly waved her hand. “At one time he owned all of this.”

  Jordan read the sign on a brick building as they passed.

  “The school’s named after him too,” she said.

  Because he was watching Kayla instead of the road, the tire dipped into a pothole, jostling them both.

  Kayla groaned. “I wish this road was paved.”

  “Sorry.” He concentrated on the road and was able to avoid the other washed-out areas.

  “I live just over the hill.”

  They reached the crest of the hill and his breath caught. A long, tree-lined drive led to a sprawling two-story house with multiple wings and a covered porch. As he drove down the hill, he couldn’t help but admire the place.

  “You could have a place like this one day, Jordan. Comfortable. Everything you want. All the horses you want.” Tangus wanted to touch Jordan’s shoulder but was restrained from doing so.

  Jordan parked the truck and jogged over to Kayla’s side of the vehicle, trying to push envy aside. It was hard. This was so close to all he’d dreamed of. “You have a nice place,” he said, trying to sound casual. Although she seemed she might be okay, she still looked shaken up. He offered his hand to help her out. Kayla moved it to her waist and reached for his other hand. “I’m too wobbly. I need you to steady me.” Jordan again felt trapped into being close to her. And felt uncomfortable at how much he enjoyed it.

  As he set her on the ground, she put a hand against the truck and it seemed her knees buckled slightly. He wasn’t sure if it was part of a show or if she was still very weak. He put his elbow out so she could take it.

  “Thanks.” She tugged his elbow. “Look, the builders finished the stable yesterday.”

  Jordan took in a full view of the impressive stone-sided structure. An iron staircase curled above the horse stable to what looked like a second-story living area. A rooster weather vane capped the roof. Floodlights surrounded the elongated riding arena in the front of the building. The place looked straight out of a magazine.

  “Daddy’s talking about putting in an enclosed arena as well. Then I can ride year-round.”

  Tangus trotted up to Jordan. “You remember the thrill of working with the harness racehorses. All that speed, strength, high-strung temperaments. You can have that and more. You don’t want to walk behind a plow all your life. You’re not Amish. Instead of smoldering in
this heat and coughing up field dust from your lungs, you could work with horses again. Air-conditioned stalls . . .”

  “I worked on a horse farm. They bred harness racers.”

  “Where was that?”

  “Farmington Hills. It’s about four hours south of here.”

  “I know where that is . . .” Kayla waved her hand dismissively. “This is small compared to those farms. We only have eight stalls.”

  “Air-conditioned and heated, too, probably.”

  “I’d take you on a tour if I didn’t feel so rough.” She pushed her tousled chestnut hair behind her ears, exposing her dirtsmeared cheeks. Her knees buckled a little.

  “Can you walk?”

  “I think I’ll be fine. As long as I can hold on to something . . . someone. Working on a racehorse farm must’ve been exciting. Did you go to the races too?”

  “Most of them.” His mother had never liked that going to the races was part of his job. She’d repeatedly warned him not to become entangled in the excitement of gambling. She said it so often he heard her words at every race. “A gambler eventually sells his life—and then his soul.”

  Kayla pointed to the back door. “You can take me in there and then wait inside for Micah.”

  He rubbed his free hand along his thigh, leaving a trail of dirt down the seam, and walked beside her to the door.

  “If you’re not Amish, then why—”

  “Am I wearing the funny clothes?” He snapped his suspenders, then pulled off his hat. “Or are you wondering about the Dutch-boy haircut?”

  “Hey, I wasn’t going to mention the haircut.”

  He laughed. “Rachel did this. Apparently, until she got hold of me, she’d only sheared sheep.”

  Kayla laughed but stopped to grab her side.

  Concern took over. “Are you hurting?”

  “Only when I laugh. So don’t make me laugh.”

  She paused at the door. “If you aren’t Amish, then why are you at the Hartzlers’?”

  “My mother was Amish. Before she . . . died.” His voice quivered and he swallowed. “She made me promise to spend time with her relatives. My uncle arranged for me to work for Micah, so I’m here until I figure out what’s next.”