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An Unbroken Heart

Thomas Nelson

This has to be a trick.

Joanna Schrock had been fooled once before — and again and again and again. As Thomas Yutzy stretched his closed hands out in front of him, a familiar knot of dread formed in her stomach.

She'd decided to spend her lunch recess alone on this warm spring day, reading under the cool shade of a huge oak tree in the school yard. Then less than a minute after she'd become engrossed in the book she started last night, Thomas approached her and asked if she wanted to play a game.

She should ignore him, but that would be rude. She also couldn't resist the thought that this might be the one time he was telling her the truth. She set down her book and stood.

"C'mon, Joanna." His small gray eyes were round with fake innocence. What a lousy liar. "Which hand has the candy?" He moved closer to her as the noonday sun brightened the cloudless sky.

Joanna glanced around the school yard. She could see her classmates Andrew Beiler, Christopher Beachy, and Asa Bontrager standing near a maple tree a few feet away, waiting to see what she would do. The rest of the students were playing baseball in the field behind the schoolhouse while Frau Miller supervised the game.

Christopher whispered something to Asa, and both boys laughed. Joanna's cheeks burned. Then she saw Andrew. His face remained impassive, with his light blond hair poking out from beneath his straw hat.

Thomas continued to grin, clearly not caring if she knew his true intentions. Then again, everyone knew she was easy to fool. Although she was twelve years old now, that didn't mean she was less gullible. In third grade she'd believed the moon was made of cheese. Swiss, to be exact. In fourth grade she'd been told a real live monster lived in the gentle flowing waters of Birch Creek. She'd been afraid to swim in the creek until her father reassured her that the monster didn't exist. Then he had taken her fishing to prove it.

Her classmates, mostly the boys, had also pulled several pranks on her. A few had been harmless, like the time Asa had taken her math book and hidden it under the teacher's desk. She hadn't minded that ... too much. "We're only funning you," some of them would say after she'd been duped again. "Only kidding," others would tell her. She accepted their excuses. Hid her hurt feelings. And never admitted there was nothing funny about being the butt of the joke.

Sometime during the last year, the pranks had become cruel. The tack in her chair. The dozen pieces of chewing gum on the bottom of her desk, which she had to scrape off after school because she was responsible for keeping her desk clean and tidy. She refused to cry as she took the dull butter knife and removed the nasty, hardened globs.

"You're too nice and sweet," her sister Sadie had told her when they walked home later that day.

"That's why the buwe pick on you," her other sister, Abigail, said.

Sadie added, "You should stand up for yourself, Joanna. Don't let them walk all over you."

So it's mei fault. Which wasn't fair. She didn't want to confront the boys. She wanted them to leave her alone.

But as she stared at Thomas's grimy knuckles, she realized this might be the time to make a stand. "I don't want to play." She backed away from him.

"Aw, Joanna. Don't be like that." Thomas's grin revealed overlapping front teeth. He would have been a bit nice looking if he wasn't so annoying. "Be a gut sport. Pick a hand."

Perspiration formed on the back of her neck. She should pick so he would have his laugh and leave her alone. She started to point to his left hand, squeezing her eyes shut and steeling herself for what would happen if she chose wrong.

"Let her be, Thomas."

She opened her eyes. Andrew strode toward them with confident steps. He was shorter than the rest of the boys in their grade, and he was stocky. Solid, like the trunk of a thick, unyielding oak tree. He stopped in front of Joanna and calmly slipped his hands into his pockets, his gaze never leaving Thomas.

Thomas scoffed. "We're just playing a little game. You stay out of it."

"Doesn't seem like she wants to play."

Joanna's words left her. She didn't need Andrew to fight her battles, but she had to admit a small part of her liked that he was willing to. Andrew was not only very schee, he was also very nice. She lifted her chin, his presence bolstering her confidence.

Ignoring Andrew, Thomas faced Joanna again, pushing his fists toward her. "Pick," he ordered.

Andrew shook his head, confirming what she already knew — she wouldn't like either choice. Knowing he was beaten, Thomas opened both hands and tossed two small toads at Joanna. Like tiny rubber balls, both animals bounced off her face and shoulder and landed on the ground. She gasped and jumped back.

Thomas's laughter rang in her ears. Asa and Christopher were also giggling.

Her face flamed, her eyes stinging with tears she dared not shed. The last time she'd cried at school, even a few girls had called her a crybaby. Only when Sadie and Abigail had told them to shut up did they stop. I will not cry ... I will not cry ...

Joanna focused on the toads as they hopped away in the grass. Thankfully they weren't harmed by Thomas's cruelty. She couldn't face her tormentors — or Andrew. He was probably laughing at her too.

"Fight!" Asa yelled.

Joanna whirled around. Andrew was gripping Thomas by the front of his pale yellow shirt. "I told you to leave her alone," Andrew growled, his voice much deeper than she'd ever heard it.

Thomas replied with a punch to Andrew's face.

Joanna gasped again and brought her hands to her mouth. Andrew stumbled from the blow yet managed to remain on his feet, his hands fisted at his sides. But he didn't retaliate. Before things could escalate, two eighth-grade boys stepped between them.

"Enough!" Joel Zook, the tallest kid in school, pierced both boys with a warning look. "Ach, you want the teacher to know about this? She'll tell yer parents and you'll both be in big trouble."

Andrew took a step back, the red mark on his cheek glowing against his fair skin. "Nee. We had a misunderstanding, that's all."

"It won't happen again," Thomas added.

"Better not, or I'll take you to Frau Miller myself." Joel gave each of them a hard look before he and the other boy walked away.

As Thomas went to stand by Asa and Christopher, Joanna wiped the part of her cheek the toad had landed on, fighting off the tears. If she had gone along with Thomas to begin with, none of this would have happened. Everything was worse now. She picked up her book and proceeded to the schoolhouse, eager to get away from all of them.

Andrew appeared beside her. He walked with her a few steps, then moved to stand in front of her. "Are you okay, Joanna?"

Surprised, a funny feeling appeared in her tummy when she met his gaze. Oh, he was definitely nice looking. "I should be asking you that question." She rubbed her nose. "I'm sorry I caused so much trouble."

"It's not yer fault Thomas is a dummkopf" he said with a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. "If those guys or anyone else bothers you, let me know. I'll take care of it."

She looked at his swollen cheek. "I don't want you to get hurt again."

He chuckled. "This?" He pointed at the dark red mark. "He only landed that punch because he caught me off guard." The smile slid from his handsome face. "There are better ways to handle an argument than using fists. Thomas needs to learn that."

He sounded wiser and far older than his twelve years. Andrew, his sister, Irene, and their mother were new to the district, having moved to Birch Creek almost a year ago. There were rumors that his father had left the family for an Englisch woman. Joanna had never asked Andrew about it. His family had the right to their privacy and didn't deserve to be gossiped about.

Andrew suddenly reached toward her. When she flinched, he said softly, "This is a gut trick. I promise." He brushed his fist against her ear, then drew back his hand and opened it.

Her eyebrows lifted at the acorn in his palm. "How did you do that?"

His lips tipped up in a half-smile. "I can't tell you all my secrets."

Frau Miller rang the bell, and the students scrambled back to the schoolhouse. Andrew walked with Joanna. "What are you going to tell Frau Miller about yer cheek?" she asked, rubbing her nose again.

He shrugged. "I'll think of something."

Their teacher had given both Thomas and Andrew a questioning look when they entered the school building, but she didn't say anything. Joanna suspected Frau Miller had an idea about what had happened between the boys but for some reason chose not to do anything about it. As the children sat in their seats and school resumed, Joanna leaned back, relieved nothing else awful had happened.

The rest of the day went by without incident. Joanna tried to focus on her schoolwork, but she was unable to resist sneaking a few glances at Andrew, who sat three seats away. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice. She bit her lip, disappointed. What he'd done for her at recess was special. He'd stood up for her when no one, other than her sisters, had ever done so. He'd been her hero.

At the end of the school day, Joanna gathered her books and her lunch pail and met Sadie and Abigail outside, forgetting about Andrew and focusing on what she would do when she got home. After she finished her homework, she would start on supper. She'd taken over the cooking chores this year so her mother and sisters could work more hours in their family-owned grocery store. She didn't mind. She liked to cook and loved to bake. What's Andrew's favorite dessert? She shook her head at the sudden thought. So much for getting him out of mei mind.

She was deciding whether to make hamburger casserole or chicken pot pie when Andrew appeared by her side. Butterflies danced in her stomach. He remained quiet as they continued down the dirt-packed shoulder of the road. Slowing her pace, she lagged behind her sisters. When his stride lingered with hers, the butterflies ramped up. There was something comforting and protective about his presence. They passed by sun-warmed fields and gardens, the freshly turned earth ready and waiting to be seeded with corn, tomatoes, beans, and other varieties of vegetables and grains.

When they reached her house, the ease she'd felt with him disappeared. Should she thank him for walking her home? Would she sound stupid if she did? Her stomach tightened as she wondered if he would say anything to her. If he did, how would she respond? She wasn't sure she could even talk, not when her mouth was drier than a parched garden.

While all these thoughts ran through her mind, he gave her a nod, turned, and walked in the opposite direction toward his home. She sighed. As she watched him leave, a part of her fell in love with him.

Eight years later

Joanna's heart thrummed as she searched for Andrew among the crowd of young people gathered in the Troyers' basement. This had been their ritual for the past two months. They would arrive at a singing separately, seek each other out, then send a silent signal so they could meet in private. Her anticipation always grew as she tried not to reveal she was looking for him. She couldn't help frowning when she didn't see him right away.

Finally she spied him standing on the opposite side of the room. The warm smile he aimed at her created the usual tiny butterflies that tickled her stomach, easing the tension from listening to her sisters argue on the way here. Sadie was upset. She never went to singings but had reluctantly agreed to go this time, and her mood was foul by the time they had arrived. Abigail had given up trying to reason with her and had disappeared as soon as she exited the buggy. Now Sadie stood alone in the corner, a sour look on her face, which wouldn't do much to attract the few eligible young men attending tonight.

Abigail had no problem mingling, though, especially with Joel Zook. Joanna saw her flirting with him, and from the full grin on his face, he was enjoying the attention.

Joanna put her sisters out of her mind and met Andrew's gaze again. His blond eyebrow lifted above his left eye. Their signal. He tilted his head in a small gesture for her to come to him. She gave him a tiny nod, the butterflies now swirling in a frenzy.

"Hello," he said as she drew near.

She stood close to him but not too close. He had to lean over to say his next words.

"Will you meet me behind the barn?"

He was always so polite with her. Never demanding and thoroughly respectful. She pulled back, her cheeks hot, savoring the thought that once again Andrew wanted her alone.

But part of her was growing impatient. Andrew's respect also translated into keeping her at arm's length, even when they were by themselves. After waiting eight years for him to finally show his romantic interest, she wanted more than conversation.

He left the room first. Several moments later she followed, dashing up the basement stairs and through the door that led to the backyard. In the dusky light she saw him disappear behind the Troyers' white barn. She hurried, a little breathless by the time she caught up to him. She found him leaning casually against the barn wall.

"You look nervous," he said.

"Not ... nervous." She rubbed her nose.

"Definitely nervous." He removed her hand from her nose. "You don't have to be skittish, Joanna. It's just me."

He would never be just Andrew to her. He was her protector, her savior ... her love. She looked at his face, barely seeing the muted tangerine and lavender clouds streaking the sky behind him. He'd taken off his hat and left it inside the Troyers' house. His thick, wavy blond hair was streaked with pale highlights from the sun. He always took her breath away.

Without a word he reached behind her ear, the soft brush of his finger on her earlobe making her breath hitch. He'd done his one and only magic trick several times before — pulling out quarters, acorns, even a stick of gum. But this time he withdrew a flower on a short stem, a lovely light blue blossom the size of a new dandelion. He handed it to her.

"How sweet." She smiled at the romantic gesture. Maybe they were making progress after all. "I like this better than acorns."

"I thought you would."

She gently cupped the flower in her hand. She'd take it home and press it into a small book, then place it in her treasure box where she'd kept everything he'd given to her over the years.

A long moment passed, and then the awkwardness between them began, as it always did when they were alone. As friends they could talk about anything. Now that they were dating, they struggled to hold a normal conversation. She wished he would show her some affection. A kiss on the cheek. Or on the lips. Instead he glanced at the ground, kicking a tuft of grass with the toe of his shoe.

In every other aspect of his life, Andrew was confident. Everything about him was strong, from his large, barrel-like chest and hard biceps to his loyal character and devotion to his family and faith. But when they were together like this, she felt on shaky ground, even though he was the one who had started their courtship two months ago.

She drew in a deep breath. It was now or never. It had taken more than two weeks to gather her courage, ever since the idea had popped into her mind while she was asking God what to do about her relationship with Andrew. Tentatively she stepped forward and touched one of the black suspenders that ran over his thick chest. He wasn't very tall, but neither was she. She liked that they could meet eye to eye.

"Joanna." He whispered her name, sending a shiver down her spine. His blue eyes darkened a bit, and his voice, which had deepened to a rich bass over the years, grew even huskier. "What are you doing?"

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Excerpted from An Unbroken Heart 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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