The Amish Bride of Ice Mountain

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Authors: Kelly Long
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be a great friend to you too.”
    Jude nodded and tried to silence his doubts as he helped her empty the tub. Then he followed her wearily back to bed, grateful that at least he was too tired now to worry about touching her.

Chapter Eight
    “Do you mind if we stop at the Ice Mine before we head out?” Jude asked the next morning as they hiked the moss-covered trail down the mountain with the still-pungent Bear in the lead.
    Mary glanced round at him for a moment. “I was going to suggest the same thing.”
    He smiled. “It was the first place we met, really.”
    “I know.”
    Jude indulged in the memory as he watched his footing, balancing his backpack and her satchel.
    Three months before, when the mountain air had filled his lungs with sweetness and promise, he’d slid a yellow notepad from his backpack and grabbed a pen. He’d sketched out his first impressions of Mary as he’d walked behind her. He’d had to focus, he remembered ruefully, on something other than the enticing sway of her hips beneath her blue dress and apron strings. Should have known better ... And he’d been surprised at his reaction; he was never one to be caught by the swing of a skirt— Englisch or Amisch . But following in the trail of her lithe form as they approached the place of his dreams had been enchanting.
    But if someone had told him that his last walk down the mountain today would be filled with the stark but confusingly pleasant reality of having Mary as his Amisch wife, he would have told the person that he was crazy and put the thought far from his mind.
    Yet there was no denying the reality and the fact that he felt as if taking her from the mountain was like removing some exotic wild creature from its natural habitat without a clue how to maintain its life in another world. He sighed beneath his breath as daylight broke over the trail and played on the gray firmness of the paved road. There’s no going back for now . . .
    It was a brief walk from the trail’s end to the entrance of the Ice Mine, and Jude couldn’t subdue the feeling of excitement that flooded him as they approached the protruding base of the mountain. A five-foot-wide boarded gap marked the entrance to the mine, the base of the wood covered by ferns and long grass.
    “Would you like to try and transplant some ferns, Professor?” Mary teased.
    Jude knew the joke now. He’d discovered in his research that the type of fern that grew outside the mine was peculiar and native only to the mountain, and the many attempts made by science in the past to transplant and grow the ferns elsewhere had failed. It was only one of the small, intricate mysteries related to the mountain.
    “ Nee , thank you.” He smiled at her. “You forget that I’m transplanting my own mountain flower and I must put every effort into that venture.”
    He admired the blush that stained her white cheeks at his obvious compliment. Then he indicated the grass with the toe of his boot. “I doubt anyone’s been in here since us.”
    “Probably not,” she agreed.
    Jude knew, of course, that the Amisch didn’t own the mine itself. It was maintained by the community but belonged to an Englisch farmer who had long ago left the area.
    Mary turned to look up at him with consideration while she laid small, capable hands on the second gray board. “I’ve never asked you directly—why did you want to come here so badly?”
    Jude blinked. It wasn’t a question that he was prepared for, even though he had answered it a hundred times when he had sought funding from the university for the project. He pushed aside the thought that his father had offered him twice as much money not to come; that was beside the point.
    “My grandfather always told me about this place when I was a boy. He and my grandmother visited the mine while they were on their honeymoon. Of course, that was when it was open for business and tours. One of my grandmother’s most prized possessions was a snow globe of the mine

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