Excerpt of The Amish Cowboy’s Homecoming by Ophelia London

It wasn’t quite time yet, but Isaac decided to start the afternoon training session with Cincinnati a bit early. The horse had been fed and watered and had been resting for almost three hours, and Isaac would keep it easy, since Sin had worked very hard the day before. As he walked into the shadowy stables, he immediately noticed the Morgan wasn’t in his stall.

            His stomach dropped as a feeling of ice ran through his bloodstream. He checked the gate. The latch didn’t look broken or that the animal had pushed his way out. No, someone had opened the gate. It was probably Grace, but Isaac had to be sure. He ran to check the side field but saw only the cows. The field behind the house was also empty, so he raced past the other field that led to the far back pasture with the tall grass.

That was when he heard the singing…

            “Gott is die Liebe, las mich erlosen, Gott is die Liebe, er liebt auch mich.”

            God is love, Grace sang while stroking Cincinnati, her voice pulling him in. God is love, He also loves me.

            Her beautiful, feminine voice practically called out to him, but what was more magnetic was that her hair was loose, no kapp, bonnet, or covering. Just long reddish-brown tresses falling down her back, over her shoulders. Isaac couldn’t move. All he could do was stand in place, watch her hum and sing, gently running her fingers down the horse’s mane—which, he’d hadn’t noticed until now, matched the color of Grace’s. Dark underneath, with red highlights in the sun.

Cincinnati nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck. One side, then the other, as if kissing her on both cheeks.

            Warmth spread through Isaac’s chest as his heart began to beat hard. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

            “Good boy,” Grace said, her voice light as air. “Such a special boy.” She moved one of her hands to the back of her neck, then pulled it away, tossing her hair just as a bit of wind picked up.

            When that warmth in his chest moved down to his stomach, Isaac knew it was ill-mannered—at the very least—to keep watching Grace in her private moment.

            “Guder nummidaag,” he said as gently as possible, knowing he was about to startle her.

            She whipped around, that long hair curtaining the sides of her face, blue eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

            “Looking for Sin,” Isaac said as he took a step toward her.

            “I took him out early,” she said, the tall grass nearly up to her waist.

            He couldn’t help smiling. “I see that.”

            As he got closer, he easily saw that her cheeks and throat were pink. She was embarrassed. He should’ve been, too, but he couldn’t seem to look away.

            “Would you mind…?” She twirled one finger.

It took Isaac a moment to interpret the gesture. After chuckling under his breath, he obediently turned around. “I didn’t see anything,” he said. Not your hair down, not your blushing cheeks.

“There was nothing to see.”

“That’s what I meant.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?”

“I’m saying it now.”

Despite the almost intimate setting of the situation, Isaac couldn’t help teasing her, picking a friendly fight like he sometimes did while they were training.         

He heard her sigh. “Okay, you can turn around.”

When he did, her hair was pulled back and up, black heart-shaped prayer kapp in place. But it was no use; he’d never get the picture of her out of his mind. “What are you doing out here?” she repeated, her voice almost accusatory. But she couldn’t fool him anymore—he saw she was trying not to smile.

“I told you, I was looking for Cincinnati.” He put a hand over his chest. “About gave me a heart attack when he wasn’t in his stall.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks were still a bit pink as he reached up to pet the horse. “I wanted some alone time with him. I should’ve left a note.”

“I missed you this morning.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “We did, I mean.” He patted the horse, hoping to keep his own blush away. “Didn’t we, boy?”