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Quarterback Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Sports Romance) by Claire Adams (204)


Chapter Fourteen

Adam

 

I woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee, murmured conversation in the next room and a distant buzzing that sounded like a low flying plane somewhere far in the distance, or maybe it was a housefly trapped indoors. I rubbed my eyes and winced as my fingers hit what I imagined was a rather large bruise. I tried to remember where I was and how I'd gotten here. It wasn't the first time I'd woken up in a strange place, but it was the first time I hadn't been drunk when I'd fallen passed out. I rolled over and groaned as the pain shot through my body, and the memory of how I'd gotten here suddenly came rushing in.

"Good morning, Adam," a voice said from the doorway. I turned to find the beautiful, but stern blonde woman who'd arrived home late the night before and read her siblings the riot act about taking in a stranger.

"Good morning..." I trailed off trying to remember her name. The buzzing grew a little louder and I looked around the room to see where it was coming from.

"Grace," she said. "My name is Grace Miller. And in case you don't remember, you crashed your car into the ditch across the street from my home yesterday and my sisters, Verity and Honor, took you in."

"Thank you, Grace," I said as I gingerly moved my arm so that I could push myself up into a sitting position and the buzzing abated a bit. Maybe a crop duster? I wanted to ask Grace, but when I realized she was watching me closely, I tried to hide the amount of pain I was feeling.  I looked up questioningly as she crossed the room holding a small cup in her outstretched hand.

"Arnica montana," she said. "It's a homeopathic remedy that will help with the bruises and the pain. You're going to feel a lot worse today then you did yesterday."

"You're not trying to poison me, are you?" I joked as I took the cup from her hand and looked down into it. There were several, tiny, white pellets in it.

"Adam, if I'd wanted to poison you, I'd have done it last night," she said dryly. "No, I'm not trying to harm you, I'm trying to help you since you're too stubborn to seek medical attention. Tip the cup up and let the pellets sit on your tongue. Don't chew them, let them dissolve."

"Look, it's not that I'm opposed to seeking help," I said as I followed her instructions and then sat waiting for the pellets to dissolve.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

Not wanting to disturb the medicine, I simply nodded. She nodded and turned back toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "As soon as the pellets have dissolved, come into the kitchen and we'll get you some breakfast."

I waited until I was sure everything in my mouth was gone and then slowly rose from the couch and followed Grace into the kitchen. Danny was setting the table as Grace and her sisters moved around one another preparing the meal. It was a graceful ballet performed by the three women in shapeless dresses wearing white caps. None of them spoke, only occasionally gesturing toward Danny who nodded in acknowledgment and then did whatever they must have instructed him to do.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning," the three women replied in unison. Grace was the taller blonde and was the epitome of her name. Taller and sturdier than her sisters, but still obviously related to them, she looked vaguely out of place in the kitchen. For a larger woman, her fluid movements seemed more inclined to belong to a dancer rather than a farmer's daughter or wife, and her piercing, blue eyes didn't miss a thing.

In contrast, the sister who had taken care of me was shorter and much more fragile looking. Her hair was pulled tightly into a knot that was covered by the white cap she wore and she tended to keep her eyes averted unless she was directly addressing someone. She stood at the stove humming a tune that I didn't recognize as she fried bacon and flipped pancakes.

The third sister reminded me of some of the wild colts at the stables my father owned. She was long limbed and skittish, and loose wisps of hair escaped from under her cap. She shot me suspicious glances as she helped her brother set the table and then poured juice in each of the glasses.

The boy was the dark-haired version of the sister helping him set the table. Lanky and awkward, he said nothing, only gestured to his sisters who quickly replied both in gestures and with words.

"Can you tell me everyone's names again?" I asked as I stood watching them all work together.  "I'm sorry I don't remember, but there was a lot going on yesterday."

"This is Verity," Grace said pointing to the sister at the stove. "And those two are Honor and Danny."

"Those are some interesting names," I observed as Danny pointed to the place at the table where I was supposed to sit.

"We have two other sisters, Faith and Hope," Grace said. "But they're married and live with their husband's families."

"Where's Charity?" I joked as I sat down in the chair Danny had pointed me to.

"Where's Eve?" Grace replied flatly.

"Touché," I said slowly settling myself into the chair. “How long has your brother been deaf?"

Danny touched my arm and shook his head furiously as he quickly moved his hands and fingers in a way that I assumed were designed to convey a message. One that I did not understand.

"Not deaf, just mute," Honor said in a tone that conveyed her irritation. "He can hear you, he just can't speak."

"That's interesting," I said. "How does that work? I mean, what happened?"

"It's God's will, Mr. Wallace," Verity cheerfully replied as she set a plate of steaming pancakes on the table before turning back to the stove.

"God's will that he has no voice?" I asked bristling against the religion-based explanation for a scientific issue.

"Adam, we are Amish," Grace said making it clear that I was treading on thin ice. "We are raised to believe that God's plan is what organizes our life. Our special children are as much a part of that plan as anything else. Danny is no more or less because of his challenges. We have simply learned to adapt."

"I see," I said shifting my attention to the food on the table and reaching for the pancakes. "Well, breakfast looks delicious!"

"Please wait, Mr. Wallace," Verity said as she brought a plate of bacon to the table and set it down. "It is customary to say grace before the meal."

I nodded as I withdrew my hand and looked sideways at Danny who grinned and signed something in the universal language of younger siblings that was clearly about his bossy sister. I chuckled as I offered him a low five under the table, and he softly slapped my hand.

Once everyone was seated around the table, Danny took my hand and nodded toward Grace who sat to my left. I reached out and took her hand and was surprised by how soft and warm it was, and how comfortable it felt in my own. I felt her start to pull back but then change her mind and hold on. I looked up, but rest had bowed their heads and gone silent. In the silence, the buzzing noise grew louder as I waited for the prayer to begin. I tried to focus on the prayer and wondered if it would be like the ones I was forced to recite at the Catholic boarding school my parents had sent me to when I was ten. The buzzing abated a bit as the silence continued and finally I heard Grace say, "Amen."

"Amen," we replied as everyone let go of the hands they were holding and reached for a dish. I felt Grace's hand slide out of mine, but when I looked over at her, she'd focused her full attention on spooning fresh strawberries onto her plate and seemed to be pointedly ignoring me.

"Mr. Wallace, where are you from?" Verity asked as she cut into her stack of pancakes.

"Chicago," I said accepting the plate of pancakes from Danny and transferring several to my own plate. Suddenly the buzzing sound grew louder as if the plane were flying overhead. I looked around, but none of the Miller's said anything about it, so I shrugged it off assuming they were used to it. 

"What brings you to Corner Grove?" she asked.

I handed the plate to Grace as I thought about how to answer this question. I could tell them what I was doing, but then they'd want to know about my meeting with Bishop Miller. I didn't want to have to explain my outburst.

"Mr. Wallace is here to sell his wind turbine technology to the Corner Grove community," Grace interjected using my surname to put distance between us again. 

"You know about that?" I said surprised that the news had traveled so fast.

"You're in a small town, Mr. Wallace," she said giving me the kind of look that was usually reserved for small children and addled old folks. "News travels fast, or weren't you aware of that?"

"I guess I wasn't aware of how fast it travels without phones," I said looking away and noticing that the sun had started to rise.

"Touché, Mr. Wallace," Grace said dryly. "But as I told you last night, we're not quite as backward as you city folk think we are."

"But Grace, you're—" Verity started.

"I'm very aware of the stereotypes that the English have of the Amish, aren't I, Verity?" Grace said, quickly cutting off whatever it was her sister was about to say. The two stared at each other silently until Honor broke in.

"What is wind turbine technology?" Honor asked. She'd been silent at the opposite end of the table, but at the mention of technology she'd perked up. "Are those the big windmills that people put up in their fields?"

"Yes, something like that," I nodded shoving another forkful of the light fluffy pancakes into my mouth. The scent of strawberries and maple syrup hung heavy in the air and I realized that I'd never tasted anything so fresh and delicious before. The tartness of the berries and the sugary syrup mingled on my tongue as the buzzing grew louder.

"What do they do?" she asked.

"I'm sorry?" I said looking at her confused. "Can you say that again? I couldn't hear you over the plane."

"What plane?" Verity asked glancing questioningly around the table at her siblings. They all shrugged as Danny signed something I couldn't understand.

"What do the windmills do, Mr. Wallace?" Honor repeated as if speaking to someone whose first language wasn't English.

"They can provide electrical power to entire communities when properly placed," I said. "My company is the first one to offer turbine technology on a small scale in communities that don't fit the requirements for large wind farms. We thought that the Corner Grove might welcome the opportunity to install the technology and move away from generators and wood based heating without having to draw from the electrical grid. The best part of it is that the excess energy can be sold back to the companies running the electrical grid, making it a profitable investment, too."

"That sounds like a great project!" Honor said excitedly. "Wouldn't that be great, Grace? No more hauling gas or wood! We could capture the wind and use it to do the work for us!"

"That's all well and good, but it doesn't explain why you wound up in the ditch across the road," Grace said staring pointedly at me. I had a feeling that she already knew about my meeting with the Bishop and that this explanation was not going to end well.

"Well, I had a meeting with Bishop Miller yesterday," I said, hesitating as the buzzing grew louder and I could barely hear myself speaking. I looked around and then waited for the noise to subside before adding, "He was not as enthusiastic about the idea as Honor is."

"I see," Grace said.

"Look, it was a difference of opinion and I got upset because he refused to consider the evidence that this technology could really help your community," I said sidestepping my outburst. "I decided to blow off a little steam by driving fast."

"You do realize that you were driving through a community where children and animals regularly cross the road and the vast majority of residents drive buggies that don't go over ten miles per hour, don't you, Mr. Wallace?" Grace asked in a prim tone as she stared at me. I could hear the judgment in her voice and it made me bristle.

"I didn't think it would hurt anyone if I drove fast down a back road," I said defensively. "And can you please stop calling me Mr. Wallace. My name is Adam."

"How very generous of you to confine your activities to a back road, Adam," she replied putting the emphasis on my name to let me know she'd heard me, but wasn't cutting me any slack. I knew she was right, but the fact that a country girl who knew nothing about me was admonishing me for my behavior got under my skin.

"Look, lady, I don't know where you get off lecturing me about my behavior, but I'm pretty sure that judgmental attitude of yours isn't part of your religious beliefs," I countered as a buzzing sound echoed in my ear growing louder by the second. Looking around, I reached up and brushed my hands over both ears, but the sound only grew louder. I began shouting over the noise, "I think you and your community would want to follow your beliefs by installing technology that would help you function better!"

"There's really no need to shout, Adam," Grace retorted "And it's really none of your business what my beliefs are. Besides, if you were so knowledgeable about my beliefs, you'd have known better than to come peddling your modern technology in a community whose main focus is on steering clear of outside influences of the modern world!"

"Well, I wanted to help the community!" I shouted as the buzzing sound grew louder. Suddenly a bright light began flashing in my peripheral vision. I whipped my head around to try and find out where it was coming from as I continued yelling, "But you people are too stubborn to consider that maybe technology can help you maintain your culture the way you want!"

"Well, I never—" Grace gasped.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have!" I shouted as I pushed myself away from the table and stood up. The dizziness hit me immediately as the blood rushed away from my head and the buzzing sound grew almost unbearable. I raised my hands to cover my ears hoping to drown out the painfully loud noise and then, for the second time in as many days, everything went black.

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