An Amish Match
Jo Ann Brown
A Convenient WeddingWith a baby on the way, a toddler son to care for and a rundown farm, Amish widow Rebekah Burkholder is worried for her family’s future. So when a kind, hardworking Amish widower with three children proposes marriage for sensible reasons, Rebekah accepts.She’ll oversee Joshua Stoltzfus’s household, be a loving mother to his children and try to reach his rebellious teenager. Joshua will make a wonderful father to her young son and the little one soon to be born. But as Rebekah unexpectedly falls for her new husband, dare she hope that Joshua will re-open his heart to love too?Amish Hearts: Love comes to Lancaster County
A Convenient Wedding
With a baby on the way, a toddler son to care for and a run-down farm, Amish widow Rebekah Burkholder is worried for her family’s future. So when a kind, hardworking Amish widower with three children proposes marriage for sensible reasons, Rebekah accepts. She’ll oversee Joshua Stoltzfus’s household, be a loving mother to his children and try to reach his rebellious teenager. Joshua will make a wonderful father to her young son and the little one soon to be born. But as Rebekah unexpectedly falls for her new husband, dare she hope that Joshua will reopen his heart to love, too?
“Will you marry me, Rebekah?” Joshua asked.
“But why?” Her cheeks turned to fire as she added, “That sounded awful. I’m sorry. The truth is you’ve always been a gut friend, Joshua, which is why I feel I can be blunt.”
“If we can’t speak honestly now, I can’t imagine when we could.”
“Then I will honestly say I don’t understand why you’d ask me to m-m-marry you.” She hated how she stumbled over the simple word.
No, it wasn’t simple. There was nothing simple about Joshua Stoltzfus appearing at her door to ask her to become his wife.
“Because we could help each other. Isn’t that what a husband and wife are? Helpmeets?” He cleared his throat. “I would rather marry a woman I know and respect as a friend. We’ve both married once for love, and we’ve both lost the one we love. Is it wrong to be more practical this time?”
Every inch of her wanted to shout, “Ja!” But his words made sense.
She’d been blinded by love once. How much better would it be to marry with her eyes wide open?
She’d be a fool not to agree immediately.
JO ANN BROWN has always loved stories with happy-ever-after endings. A former military officer, she is thrilled to have the chance to write stories about people falling in love. She is also a photographer, and she travels with her husband of more than thirty years to places where she can snap pictures. They live in Nevada with three children and a spoiled cat. Drop her a note at joannbrownbooks.com (http://www.joannbrownbooks.com).
An Amish Match
Jo Ann Brown
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
—Joshua 1:9
For Linda Parisi
A dear friend who always makes me smile
just thinking of her
Contents
Cover (#u39105395-4b25-5fac-bc5d-6dba2d2cbdf1)
Back Cover Text (#u6a2fd3c8-a9ad-50cc-a99d-f32474322901)
Introduction (#u6389a719-ac09-55aa-9690-33b2e6b10046)
About the Author (#u3394faf0-1848-5c38-b69e-37aedc4a08f5)
Title Page (#u37306956-1c0d-5eed-b775-fa8fd6b335a9)
Bible Verse (#ue18c8e66-e790-5f1b-b835-945f8718842a)
Dedication (#u7b640657-67ea-5e0a-8b00-0cfea6b43426)
Chapter One (#uce1fdc37-aec6-5117-be51-5449815d1ed2)
Chapter Two (#u1b17bc15-da40-5d2f-a117-9fa3e5c7a981)
Chapter Three (#ue69ba956-b51f-5292-9ed8-037bf0c69091)
Chapter Four (#u9bc90178-ebae-581d-8990-5ce6b4be81d5)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_e2aa6400-ac70-558f-99c5-34bf3d7e448b)
Paradise Springs
Lancaster County, Pennsylvania
The rainy summer afternoon was as dismal as the hearts of those who had gathered at the cemetery. Most of the mourners were walking back to their buggies, umbrellas over their heads like a parade of black mushrooms. The cemetery with its identical stones set in almost straight lines on the neatly trimmed grass was edged by a worn wooden rail fence. The branches on a single ancient tree on the far side of the cemetery rocked with the wind that lashed rain on the few people remaining by the newly covered grave.
Rebekah Burkholder knew she should leave the Stoltzfus family in private to mourn their loss, but she remained to say a silent prayer over the fresh earth. Rose Mast Stoltzfus had been her first cousin, and as kinder they’d spent hours together every week doing their chores and exploring the fields, hills and creeks near their families’ farms. Now Rose, two years younger than Rebekah, was dead from a horrific asthma attack at twenty-four.
The whole Stoltzfus family encircled the grave where a stone would be placed in a few weeks. Taking a step back, Rebekah tightened her hold on both her son’s hand and her umbrella that danced in the fickle wind. Sammy, who would be three in a few months, watched everything with two fingers stuck in his mouth. She knew that over the next few days she would be bombarded with questions—as she had been when his daed died. She hoped she’d be better prepared to answer this time. At least she could tell him the truth rather than skirt it because she didn’t want him ever to know what sort of man his daed had been.
“It’s time to go, Sammy,” she said in little more than a whisper when he didn’t move.
“Say bye-bye?” He looked up at her with his large blue eyes that were his sole legacy from her. He had Lloyd’s black hair and apple-round cheeks instead of the red curls she kept restrained beneath her kapp and the freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks.
“Ja.” She bent to hug him, shifting so her expanding belly didn’t bump her son. Lloyd hadn’t known about his second kind because he’d died before she was certain she was pregnant again. “We have said bye-bye.”
“Go bye-bye?”
Her indulgent smile felt out of place at the graveside. Yet, as he had throughout his young life, her son gave her courage and a reason to go on.
“Ja.”
Standing slowly because her center of balance changed every day, she held out her hand to him again. He put his fingers back in his mouth, glanced once more at the grave, then stepped away from it along with her.
Suddenly the wind yanked on Rebekah’s umbrella, turning it inside out. As the rain struck them, Sammy pressed his face against her skirt. She fought to hold on to the umbrella. Even the smallest things scared him; no wonder after what he had seen and witnessed in those horrible final months of his daed’s life.
No! She would not think of that time again. She didn’t want to remember any of it. Lloyd had died last December, almost five months ago, and he couldn’t hurt her or their kinder again.
“Mamm,” Sammy groaned as he clung to her.
“It’s all right,” she cooed as she tried to fix her umbrella.
She didn’t look at any of the other mourners as she forced her umbrella down to her side where the wind couldn’t grab it again. Too many people had told her that she mollycoddled her son, and he needed to leave his babyish ways behind now that he was almost three. They thought she was spoiling him because he had lost his daed, but none of those people knew Sammy had experienced more fear and despair in his short life than they had in their far longer ones.
“Here. Let me help,” said a deep voice from her left.
She tilted her head to look past the brim of her black bonnet. Her gaze rose and rose until it met Joshua Stoltzfus’s earth-brown eyes through the pouring rain. He was almost six feet tall, almost ten inches taller than she was. His dark brown hair was damp beneath his black hat that dripped water off its edge. His beard was plastered to the front of the coat he wore to church Sundays, and soaked patches were even more ebony on the wide shoulders of his coat. He’d gotten drenched while helping to fill in the grave.
“Take this,” he said, holding his umbrella over her head. “I’ll see if I can repair yours.”
“Danki.” She held the umbrella higher so it was over his head, as well. She hoped Joshua hadn’t seen how she flinched away when he moved his hand toward her. Recoiling away from a man’s hand was a habit she couldn’t break.
“Mamm!” Sammy cried. “I wet now!”
Before she could pull her son back under the umbrella’s protection, Joshua looked to a young girl beside him, “Deborah, can you take Samuel under your umbrella while I fix Rebekah’s?”
Deborah, who must have been around nine or ten, had the same dark eyes and hair as Joshua. Her face was red from where she’d rubbed away tears, but she smiled as she took Sammy’s hand. “Komm. It’s dry with me.”
He didn’t hesitate, surprising Rebekah. He usually waited for permission before he accepted any invitation. Perhaps, at last, he realized he didn’t have to ask now that Lloyd was dead.
Joshua turned her umbrella right side out, but half of it hung limply. The ribs must have been broken by the gust.
“Danki,” she said. “It’s gut enough to get me to our buggy.”
“Don’t be silly.” He tucked the ruined umbrella under his left arm and put his hand above hers on the handle of his umbrella.
Again she flinched, and he gave her a puzzled look. Before she could let go, his fingers slid down to cover hers, holding them to the handle.
“We’ll go with you back to your buggy,” he said.
She didn’t look at him because she didn’t want to see his confusion. How could she explain to Lloyd’s best friend about her reaction that had become instinctive? “I don’t want to intrude on...” She gulped, unable to go on as she glanced at the other members of the Stoltzfus family by the grave.
“It’s no intrusion. I told Mamm we’d go back to the house to make sure everything was ready for those gathering there.”
She suspected he wasn’t being completely honest. The Leit, the members of their church district, would oversee everything so the family need not worry about any detail of the day. However, she was grateful for his kindness. She’d always admired that about him, especially when she saw him with one of his three kinder.
Glancing at the grave, she realized neither of his boys remained. Timothy, who must have been around sixteen, had already left with his younger brother, Levi, who was a year older than Deborah.
“Ready to go?” Joshua asked as he tugged gently on the umbrella handle and her hand.
“Ja.” Instantly she changed her mind. “No.”
Stepping away, she was surprised when he followed to keep the umbrella over her head. She appreciated staying out of the rain as she walked to Isaiah, her cousin’s widower. The young man who couldn’t yet be thirty looked as haggard as a man twice his age as he stared at the overturned earth. Some sound must have alerted him, because he turned to see her and his older brother coming toward him.
Rebekah didn’t speak as she put her hand on Isaiah’s black sleeve. So many things she longed to say, because from everything she had heard the newlyweds had been deeply in love. They would have celebrated their first anniversary in November.
All she could manage to say was, “I’m sorry, Isaiah. Rose will be missed.”
“Danki, Rebekah.” He looked past her to his oldest brother. “Joshua?”
“Rebekah’s umbrella broke,” Joshua said simply. “I’m walking her to her buggy. We’ll see you back at the house.”
Isaiah nodded but said nothing more as he turned to look at the grave.
Joshua gripped his brother’s shoulder in silent commiseration, then motioned for Rebekah to come with him. As soon as they were out of earshot of the remaining mourners, he said, “It was very kind. What you said to Isaiah.”
“I don’t know if he really heard me or not. At Lloyd’s funeral, people talked to me but I didn’t hear much other than a buzz like a swarm of bees.”
“I remember feeling that way, too, when my Matilda died.” He steered her around a puddle in the grass. “Even though we had warning as she sickened, nothing could ease my heart when she breathed her last.”
“She was blessed to have you with her until the end.” She once had believed she and Lloyd could have such a love. Would she have been as caring if Lloyd had been ill instead of dying because he’d fallen from the hayloft in a drunken stupor?
No! She wasn’t going to think about that awful moment again, a moment when only her faith had kept her from giving in to panic. The certainty that God would hold her up through the horrible days ahead had allowed her to move like a sleepwalker through the following month. Her son and the discovery she was pregnant again had pulled her back into life. Her kinder needed her, and she wouldn’t let them down any longer. It was important that nobody know the truth about Lloyd, because she didn’t want people watching Sammy, looking for signs that he was like his daed.
“I know Rose’s death must be extra hard for you,” Joshua murmured beneath the steady thump of rain on his umbrella, “because it’s been barely half a year since you buried Lloyd. My Matilda has been gone for more than four years, and the grief hasn’t lessened. I’ve simply become accustomed to it, but the grief is still new for you.”
She didn’t answer.
He glanced down at her, his brown eyes shadowed, but his voice filled with compassion. “I know how much I miss Lloyd. He was my best friend from our first day of school. But nothing compares with losing a spouse, especially a gut man like Lloyd Burkholder.”
“That’s true.” But, for her, mourning was not sad in the way Joshua described his own.
Lloyd Burkholder had been a gut man...when he’d been sober. As he had never been drunk beyond their home, nobody knew about how a gut man became a cruel man as alcohol claimed him. The teasing about how she was clumsy, the excuse she gave for the bruises and her broken finger, hurt almost as much as his fist had.
She put her hand over her distended belly. Lloyd would never be able to endanger their second kind as he had his first. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about doing everything she could to avoid inciting his rage, which he’d, more than once, aimed at their unborn kind the last time she was pregnant. Before Sammy was born, she’d been fearful Lloyd’s blows might have damaged their boppli. God had heard her desperate prayers because Sammy was perfect when he was born, and he was growing quickly and talking nonstop.
Joshua started to say more, then closed his mouth. She understood. Too many sad memories stood between them, but there were gut ones, as well. She couldn’t deny that. On the days when Lloyd hadn’t been drunk, he had often taken her to visit Joshua and Matilda. Those summery Sunday afternoons spent on the porch of Joshua and Matilda’s comfortable white house while they’d enjoyed iced tea had been wunderbaar. They had ended when Matilda became ill and was diagnosed with brain cancer.
A handful of gray buggies remained by the cemetery’s gate. The horses had their heads down as rain pelted them, and Rebekah guessed they were as eager to return to their dry stalls and a gut rubdown as Dolly, her black buggy horse, was.
“Mamm!” Sammy’s squeal of delight sounded out of place in the cemetery.
She whirled to see him running toward them. Every possible inch of him was wet, and his clothes were covered with mud. Laughter bubbled up from deep inside her. She struggled to keep it from bursting out.
When she felt Joshua shake beside her, she discovered he was trying to restrain his own amusement. She looked quickly away. If their gazes met, even for a second, she might not be able to control her laughter.
“Whoa!” Joshua said, stretching out a long arm to keep Sammy from throwing himself against Rebekah. “You don’t want to get your mamm dirty, do you?”
“Dirty?” the toddler asked, puzzled.
Deborah came to a stop right behind Sammy. “I tried to stop him.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “But he jumped into the puddle before I could.”
Rebekah pulled a cloth out from beneath her cape. She’d pinned it there for an emergency like this. Wiping her son’s face, she gave the little girl a consoling smile. “Don’t worry. He does this sort of thing a lot. I hope he didn’t splash mud on you.”
“He missed me.” The girl’s smile returned. “I learned how to move fast from being around Aenti Ruth’s kinder. I wish I could have been fast enough to keep him from jumping in the puddle in the first place.”
“No one is faster than a boy who wants to play in the water.” Joshua surprised her by winking at Sammy. “Isn’t that right?”
Her son’s smile vanished, and he edged closer to Rebekah. He kept her between Joshua and himself. Her yearning to laugh disappeared. Her son didn’t trust any man, and he had gut reason not to. His daed, the man he should have been able to trust most, could change from a jovial man to a brutal beast for no reason a toddler could comprehend.
“Let’s get you in the buggy.” Joshua’s voice was strained, and his dark brown eyes narrowed as he clearly tried to understand why Sammy would shy away from him in such obvious fear.
She wished she could explain, but she didn’t want to add to Joshua’s grief by telling him the truth about the man her husband truly had been.
“Hold this,” he said as he ducked from under the umbrella. Motioning for his daughter to take Sammy’s hand again, he led them around the buggy. Rain struck him, but he paid no attention. He opened the door on the passenger side. “You probably want to put something on the seat to protect the fabric.”
“Danki, Joshua. That’s a gut idea.” She stretched forward to spread the dirty cloth on the seat. She shouldn’t be surprised that he was concerned about the buggy, because he worked repairing and making buggies not far from his home in Paradise Springs. She stepped back while Joshua swung her son up into the carriage. If he noticed how Sammy stiffened, he didn’t say anything.
Once Sammy was perched on the seat with his two fingers firmly in his mouth, Joshua drew the passenger side door closed and made sure it was latched so her son couldn’t open it and tumble out. He took his daughter’s hand before they came back to stand beside her.
Rebekah raised the umbrella to keep the rain off them. When he grasped the handle, she relinquished it to him, proud that she had managed not to shrink away. He smiled tautly, then offered his hand to assist her into the buggy.
“Be careful,” he warned as if she were no older than her son. “The step up is slick, and you don’t want to end up as muddy as Samuel.”
“You’re right.” She appreciated his attempt to lighten her spirits as much as she did his offer.
Placing her hand on his palm, she bit her lower lip as his broad fingers closed over it. She’d expected his hands to be as chilled as hers, but they weren’t. Warmth seeped past the thick wall she’d raised to keep others from discovering what a fool she’d been to marry Lloyd Burkholder.
Quickly she climbed into the buggy. Joshua didn’t hold her hand longer than was proper. Yet the gentle heat of his touch remained, a reminder of how much she’d distanced herself from everyone else in their community.
“Danki, Joshua.” She lowered her eyes, which were oddly almost even with his as she sat on the buggy seat. “I keep saying that, but I’m truly grateful for your help.” She smiled at Deborah. “Danki to you, too. You made Sammy giggle, and I appreciate that.”
“He’s fun,” she said, waving to him before running to another buggy farther along the fence.
“We’ll see you back at Mamm’s house,” Joshua said as he unlashed the reins and handed them to her.
She didn’t say anything one way or the other. She could use her muddy son as an excuse not to spend the afternoon with the other mourners, but she didn’t want to be false with Joshua, who had always treated her with respect and goodness. Letting him think she’d be there wasn’t right, either. She stayed silent.
“Drive carefully,” he added before he took a step back.
Unexpected tears swelled in her eyes, and she closed the door on her side. When they were first married, Lloyd had said that to her whenever she left the farm. He’d stopped before the end of their second month as man and wife. Like so much else about him, she hadn’t known why he’d halted, even when he was sober.
It felt wunderbaar to hear a man use those commonplace words again.
“Go?” asked her son, cutting through her thoughts.
“Ja.” She steered the horse onto the road after looking back to make sure Joshua or someone else wasn’t driving past. With the battery operated lights and windshield wiper working, she edged the buggy’s wheels onto the wet asphalt. She didn’t want to chance them getting stuck in the mud along the shoulder. In this weather it would take them almost an hour to reach their farm beyond Bird-in-Hand.
Sammy put his dirty hand on her cape. “That man was mad at me.”
“Why do you think so?” she asked, surprised. From what she’d seen, Joshua had been nothing but friendly with her son.
“His eyes were funny. One went down while the other stayed up.”
It took her a full minute to realize her son was describing Joshua’s wink. Pain pierced her heart, which, no matter how she’d tried, refused to harden completely. Her darling kind didn’t understand what a wink was because there had been too few cheerful times in his short life.
She had to find a way to change that. No matter what. Her kinder were the most important parts of her world, and she would do whatever she must to make sure they had a gut life from this day forward.
* * *
Joshua walked into the farmhouse’s large but cozy kitchen and closed the back door behind him, glad to be inside where the unseasonable humidity didn’t make everything stick to him. He’d waved goodbye to the last of the mourners who’d came to the house for a meal after the funeral. Their buggy was already vanishing into the night by the time he reached the house.
He was surprised to see only his younger sister Esther and Mamm there. Earlier, their neighbors, Leah Beiler and her mamm, had helped serve food and collected dishes, which they’d piled on the long table in the middle of the simple kitchen. They had insisted on helping because his older sister Ruth was having a difficult pregnancy, and her family had gone home hours ago.
The thought of his pregnant sister brought Rebekah to mind. Even though she was going to have a boppli, too, she had no one to help her on the farm Lloyd had left her. He wondered again why she hadn’t joined the mourners at his mamm’s house. Being alone in the aftermath of a funeral was wrong, especially when she’d suffered such a loss herself.
Take care of her, Lord, he prayed silently. Her need is great at this time.
A pulse of guilt rushed through him. Why hadn’t he considered that before? Though it was difficult to see her because she brought forth memories of her late husband and Matilda, that was no excuse to turn his back on her.
Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he would go to her farm and see exactly what help she needed. The trip would take him a long way from his buggy shop in Paradise Springs, but he’d neglected his obligations to Lloyd’s wife too long. Maybe she would explain why she’d pulled away, her face growing pale each time he came near. He couldn’t remember her acting like that before Lloyd died.
“Everyone’s gone.” Joshua hung his black hat on the peg by the door and went to the refrigerator. He poured himself a glass of lemonade. He’d forgotten what dusty work feeding, milking and cleaning up after cows could be.
And hungry work. He picked up a piece of ham from the plate on the counter. It was the first thing he’d eaten all day, in spite of half the women in the Leit insisting he take a bite of this casserole or that cake. They didn’t hide the fact they believed a widower with three kinder must never eat a gut meal.
“Mamm, will you please sit and let me clear the table?” Esther frowned and put her hands on the waist of her black dress.
“I want to help.” Their mamm’s voice was raspy because she’d talked so much in the past few days greeting mourners, consoling her family and Rose’s, and talking with friends. She glowered at the cast on her left arm.
The day before Rose died, Mamm had slipped on her freshly mopped floor and stumbled against the table. Hard. Both bones in her lower left arm had broken, requiring a trip to the medical clinic in Paradise Springs. She’d come home with a heavy cast from the base of her fingers to above her elbow, as well as a jar of calcium tablets to strengthen her bones.
“I know, but...” Esther squared her shoulders. “Mamm, it’s taking me exactly twice as long to do a task because I have to keep my eye on you to make sure you don’t do it.”
“There must be something I can do.”
Joshua gave his younger sister a sympathetic smile as he poured a second glass of lemonade. Mamm wasn’t accustomed to sitting, but she needed to rest her broken arm. Balancing the second glass in the crook of one arm, he gently put his hand on Mamm’s right shoulder and guided her to the front room that some of the mourners had put back in order before they’d left. The biggest space in the house, it was where church Sunday services were held once a year when it was Mamm’s turn to host them. Fortunately that had happened in the spring, because she was in no state now to invite in the whole congregation.
He felt his mamm tremble beneath his fingers, so he reached to open the front door. He didn’t want to pause in this big room. It held too many sad memories because it was where his daed had been waked years ago.
Not wanting to linger, he steered his mamm out on the porch. He assisted her to one of the rocking chairs before he sat on the porch swing. It squeaked as it moved beneath him. He’d try to remember to oil it before he headed home in the morning to his place about a mile down the road.
“Is Isaiah asleep already?” he asked. “When I was coming in, I saw the light go out in the room where he used to sleep upstairs.”
“I doubt he’s asleep, though it would be the best thing for him. You remember how difficult it is to sleep after...” She glanced toward the barn.
His other brothers should be returning to the house soon, but he guessed Mamm was thinking of the many times she’d watched Daed cross the grass between the barn and the house. Exactly as he’d looked out the window as if Matilda would come in with a basket of laundry or fresh carrots and peas from her garden. Now he struggled to keep up with the wash and the garden had more weeds than vegetables.
Mamm sighed. “What are you going to do, Joshua?”
“Do?”
“You need to find someone to watch Levi and Deborah during the day while you’re at the shop.”
It was his turn to sigh into his sweaty glass. “I’m not sure. The kinder loved spending time with Rose, and it’s going to be hard for them to realize she won’t be watching them again.”
“Those who have gone before us keep an eye on us always.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “But as far as the kinder, I can—”
He shook his head. “No, you can’t have them come here. Not while you’ve got a broken arm. And don’t suggest Esther. She’ll be doubly busy taking care of the house while you’re healing. The doctor said it would take at least six weeks for your bones to knit, and I can’t have the kinder at the shop for that long.”
Levi and Deborah would want to help. As Esther had said to Mamm, such assistance made every job take twice as long as necessary. In addition, he couldn’t work beneath a buggy, making a repair or putting it together, and keep an eye on them. Many of the tools at the buggy shop were dangerous if mishandled.
“There is an easy solution, Joshua.”
“What?”
“Get yourself a wife.”
His eyes were caught by the flash of lightning from beyond the tree line along the creek. The stars were vanishing, one after another, as clouds rose high in the night sky. Thunder was muted by the distance, but it rolled across the hills like buggy wheels on a rough road. A stronger storm than the one that morning would break the humidity and bring in fresher air.
Looking back at his mamm, he forced a smile. “Get a wife like that?” He snapped his fingers. “And my problems are solved?”
“Matilda died four years ago.” Her voice was gentle, and he guessed the subject was as hard for her to speak about as it was for him to listen to. “Your kinder have been without a mamm, and you’ve been without a wife. Don’t you want more kinder and the company of a woman in your home?”
Again he was saved from having to answer right away by another bolt of lightning cutting through the sky. “Looks like the storm is coming fast.”
“Not as fast as you’re changing the subject to avoid answering me.”
He never could fool Mamm, and he usually didn’t try. On the other hand, she hadn’t been trying to match him with some woman before now.
“All right, Mamm. I’ll answer your question. When the time is right, I may remarry again. The time hasn’t been right, because I haven’t found the right woman.” He drained his lemonade and set the glass beside him. “From your expression, however, I assume you have someone specific in mind.”
“Ja. I have been thinking about one special person, and seeing you with Rebekah Burkholder today confirmed it for me. She needs a husband.”
“Rebekah?” He couldn’t hide his shock as Mamm spoke of the woman who had remained on his mind since he’d left the cemetery.
“Ja, Rebekah. With a young son and a boppli coming soon, she can’t handle Lloyd’s farm on her own. She needs to marry before she has to sell out and has no place to go.” Mamm shifted, then winced as she readjusted her broken arm. “You know her well, Joshua. She is the widow of your best friend.”
That was true. Lloyd Burkholder had been his best friend. When Joshua had married Matilda, Lloyd had served as one of his Newehockers, the two male and two female attendants who sat beside the bride and groom throughout their wedding day. It was an honor to be asked, and Lloyd had been thrilled to accept.
“Rebekah is almost ten years younger than I am, Mamm.”
“Lloyd was your age.”
“And she is barely ten years older than Timothy.”
“True. That might have made a difference years ago, but now you are adults with kinder. And you need a wife.”
“I don’t need a wife right now. I need someone to watch the kinder.” He held up his hand. “And Rebekah lives too far away for me to ask her to do that.”
“What about the housework? The laundry? The cooking? Rose did much of those chores for you, and you eat your other meals here. Deborah can do some of the work, but not all of it. With Esther having to do my chores as well as her own around the house and preparations for the end of the school year, she would appreciate having fewer people at the table each night.”
“Mamm, I doubt that,” he replied with a laugh, though he knew his sister worked hard at their local school.
His mamm wagged a finger at him. “True, true. Esther would gladly feed anyone who showed up every night.” As quickly as she’d smiled, she became serious again. “But it’s also true Rebekah Burkholder needs a husband. That poor woman can’t manage on her own.”
He didn’t want to admit his own thoughts had gone in that direction, too, and how guilty he felt that he’d turned his back on her.
His face must have betrayed his thoughts because Mamm asked, “Will you at least think of it?”
“Ja.”
What else could he say? Rebekah likely had no interest in remarrying so quickly after Lloyd’s death, but if she didn’t take another husband, she could lose Lloyd’s legacy to her and his kinder. The idea twisted in Joshua’s gut.
It was time for him to decide exactly what he was willing to do to help his best friend’s widow.
Chapter Two (#ulink_6d20844f-c423-5fc4-90aa-c697b750cd2d)
Even as Joshua was turning his buggy onto the lane leading to the Burkholders’ farm the next morning, he fought his own yearning to turn around and leave at the buggy’s top speed. He hadn’t slept last night, tossing and turning and seeking God’s guidance while the loud thunderstorm had banished the humidity. A cool breeze had rushed into the rooms where his three kinder had been lost in their dreams, but he had been awake until dawn trying to decide what he should do.
Or, to be more accurate, to accept what he should do. God never promised life would be simple. That thought echoed through his head during breakfast and as he prepared for the day.
Into his mind came the verse from Psalm 118 that he had prayed so many times since his wife died. This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.
At sunrise on this crisp morning, he’d arranged for the younger two kinder to go to the Beilers’ house, but he couldn’t take advantage of their generosity often. Abram Beiler suffered from Parkinson’s disease, and Leah and her mamm had to keep an eye on him as he went about his chores. Even though Leah had told Joshua to depend on her help for as long as he needed because Leah’s niece Mandy and Deborah were close in age and enjoyed playing together, he must find a more permanent solution.
His next stop had been to drop off Timothy at his buggy shop at the Stoltzfus Family Shops in the village. The other shops as well as the smithy behind the long building were run by his brothers. He asked the sixteen-year-old to wait on any customers who came in and to let them know Joshua would be there by midday. Even a year ago, he could have trusted Timothy to sort out parts or paint sections of wood that were ready to be assembled, but his older son had grown less reliable in recent months. Joshua tried to give him space and privacy to sort out the answers every teenager wrestled with, which was why he hadn’t said anything when he’d noticed Timothy had a portable music device and earphones hidden beneath his shirt.
Until he decided to be baptized and join the church, Timothy could have such items, though many members of the Leit frowned on their use at any age. Most kinder chose to be baptized, though a few like Leah’s twin brother turned their backs on the community and left to seek a different life among the Englischers.
He stopped the family buggy, which was almost twice the size of the one Rebekah had driven away from the cemetery yesterday. Looking out the front, he appraised the small white house. He hadn’t been here since at least three years before Matilda died. Only now did he realize how odd it was that they had seldom visited the Burkholders’ house.
The house was in poor shape. Though the yard was neat and flowers had been planted by the front door, paint was chipped on the clapboards and the roof resembled a swaybacked horse. He frowned when he noticed several bricks had fallen off the chimney and tumbled partway down the shingles. Even from where he sat, he could see broken and missing shingles.
What had happened? This damage couldn’t have happened in the five months since Lloyd’s death. It must have taken years of neglect to bring the house to such a miserable state.
He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he looked at the barn and the outbuildings. They were in a little bit better shape, but not much. One silo was leaning at a precarious angle away from the barn, and a strong wind could topple it. A tree had fallen on a section of the fence. Its branches were bare and the trunk was silvery-gray, which told him it had been lying in the sunshine for several seasons.
Why had Lloyd let his house and buildings deteriorate like this?
Joshua reminded himself he wasn’t going to learn any answers sitting in his buggy. After getting out, he lashed the reins around a nearby tree and left his buggy horse Benny to graze on the longer grass at the edge of the driveway. He walked up the sloping yard to the back door. As he looked beyond the barn, he saw two cows in the pasture. Not enough to keep the farm going unless Rebekah was making money in other ways, like selling eggs or vegetables at one of the farmers’ markets near the tourist areas.
He knocked on the back door and waited for an answer. The door didn’t have a window like his kitchen door, but he could hear soft footsteps coming toward him.
Rebekah opened the door and stared at him, clearly astonished at his unannounced visit in the middle of a workday morning.
He couldn’t help staring back. Yesterday her face had been half hidden beneath her bonnet, and he’d somehow pushed out of his mind how beautiful she was. Her deep auburn hair was hidden beneath a scarf she’d tied at her nape. A splotch of soap suds clung to her right cheek and sparkled as brightly as her blue eyes. Her freckles looked as if someone had blown cinnamon across her nose and high cheekbones. There was something ethereal about her when she looked up at him, her eyes wide and her lips parted in surprise. Her hand was protectively on her belly. Damp spots littered the apron she wore over her black dress. He wasn’t surprised her feet were bare. Mamm and his sisters preferred to go without shoes when cleaning floors.
Then he noticed the gray arcs beneath her eyes and how drawn her face was. Exhaustion. It was the first description that came to mind.
She put her hand to the scarf. “I didn’t expect company.”
“I know, but it’s long past time I paid you and the boy a visit.”
For a moment he thought she’d argue, then she edged back and opened the door wider. “Joshua, komm in. How is Isaiah?”
“He was still asleep when I went over there this morning.” Guilt twinged in him. He’d been so focused on his own problems that he hadn’t been praying for his brother’s grieving heart. God, forgive me for being selfish. I need to be there to hold my brother up at this sad time. I know, too well, the emptiness he is feeling today.
“How’s your mamm? I have been praying for her to heal quickly.”
He stepped into a kitchen that was as neat as the outside of the house was a mess. The tempting scents of freshly made bread and whatever chicken she was cooking on top of the stove for the midday meal teased him to ask her for a sample. When Lloyd and she had come over to his house, she’d always brought cookies or cake, which rivaled the very best he’d ever tasted.
You wouldn’t have to eat your own cooking or Deborah’s burned meals any longer if Rebekah agrees to marry you, so ask her.
He wished that voice in his head would be quiet. This was tough enough without being nagged by his own thoughts.
Taking off his straw hat and holding it by the brim, Joshua slowly turned it around and around. “Danki for asking. Mamm is doing as well as can be expected. You know she’s not one for sitting around. She’s already figuring out what she can do with one hand.”
“I’m not surprised.” She gave him a kind smile. “Will you sit down? I’ve got coffee and hot water for tea. Would you like a cup?”
“Danki, Rebekah. Tea sounds gut,” he said as he set his hat on a peg by the door. He pulled out one of the chairs by the well-polished oak table.
“Coming up.” She crossed the room to the large propane stove next to the refrigerator that operated on the same fuel.
“Mamm?” came her son’s voice from the front room. It was followed by the little boy rushing into the kitchen. He skidded to a halt and gawped at Joshua before running to grab Rebekah’s skirt.
She put a loving hand on Sammy’s dark curls. “You remember Joshua, right?”
He heard a peculiar tension underlying her question and couldn’t keep from recalling how Sammy had been skittish around him at the cemetery. Some kinder were shy with adults. He’d need to be patient while he gave the boy a chance to get to know him better.
Joshua smiled at the toddler. It seemed as if only yesterday his sons, Timothy and Levi, were no bigger than little Samuel. How sweet those days had been when his sons had shadowed him and listened to what he could share with them! As soon as Deborah was able to toddle, she’d joined them. They’d had fun together while he’d let them help with small chores around the buggy shop and on the two acres where he kept a cow and some chickens.
But that had ended when Timothy had changed from a gut and devoted son to someone Joshua didn’t know. He argued about everything when he was talking, which wasn’t often because he had days when he was sullen and did little more than grunt in response to anything Joshua or his siblings said.
“Go?” asked Samuel.
Joshua wasn’t sure if the boy wanted to leave or wanted Joshua to leave, but Rebekah shook her head and took a cup out of a cupboard. The hinges screamed like a bobcat, and he saw her face flush.
“It needs some oil,” he said quietly.
“I keep planning on doing that, but I get busy with other things, and it doesn’t get done.” She reached for the kettle and looked over her shoulder at him. “You know how it is.”
“I know you must be overwhelmed here, but I’m concerned more about the shape of your roof than a squeaky hinge. If Lloyd hadn’t been able to maintain the farm on his own, he should have asked for help. We would have come right away.”
“I know, but...”
When her eyes shifted, he let his sigh slip silently past his lips. She didn’t want to talk about Lloyd, and he shouldn’t push the issue. They couldn’t change the past. He was well aware of how painful even thinking of his past with Matilda could be.
He thanked her when she set a cup of steeping tea in front of him. She went to the refrigerator, with her son holding her skirt, and came back with a small pitcher of cream. He hadn’t expected her to remember he liked it in his tea.
“Danki, Rebekah.” He gave her the best smile he could. “Now I’m the one saying it over and over.”
“You don’t need to say it for this.” She set a piece of fresh apple pie in front of him. “I appreciate you having some of the pie. Otherwise I will eat most of it myself.” She put her hand on her stomach, which strained the front of her dress. “It looks as if I’ve had enough.”
“You are eating for two.”
“As much as I’ve been eating, you’d think I was eating for a whole litter.” She made a face as she pressed her hand to her side. “The way this boppli kicks, it feels like I’m carrying around a large crowd that is playing an enthusiastic game of volleyball.”
He laughed and was rewarded with a brilliant smile from her. When was the last time he’d seen her genuine smile? He was sad to realize it’d been so long he didn’t know.
After bringing a small cup of milk to the table, she sat as he took one bite, then another of her delicious pie. Her son climbed onto her lap, and she offered him a drink. He drank but squirmed. Excusing herself, she stood and went into the other room with Samuel on her hip. She came back and sat. She put crayons and paper in front of her son, who began scribbling intently.
“This way he’s occupied while we talk,” she said.
“Gut.” If he’d had any doubts about her love of kinder, they were gone now. She was a gentle and caring mamm.
“It’s nice of you to come to visit, Joshua, but I know you, and you always have a reason for anything you do. Why are you here today?”
He should be thanking God for Rebekah giving him such a perfect opening to say for what he’d come to say. Yet words refused to form on his lips. Once he asked her to be his wife, there would be no turning back. He risked ruining their friendship, no matter how she replied. He hated the idea of jeopardizing that.
Samuel pushed a piece of paper toward him with a tentative smile.
“He wants you to have the picture he drew,” Rebekah said.
Jacob looked at the crayon lines zigzagging across the page in every direction. “It’s very colorful.”
The little boy whispered in Rebekah’s ear.
She nodded, then said, “He tells me it’s a picture of your horse and buggy.”
“I see,” he replied, though he didn’t. The collection of darting lines bore no resemblance he could discern to either Benny or his buggy. “Gut job, Samuel.”
The kind started to smile, then hid his face in Rebekah’s shoulder. She murmured something to him and picked up a green crayon. When she handed it to him along with another piece of paper, he began drawing again.
“You never answered my question, Joshua,” she said. “Why did you come here today?”
“In part to apologize for not coming sooner. I should have been here to help you during the past few months.”
Her smile wavered. “I know I’ve let the house and buildings go.”
He started to ask another question, but when he met her steady gaze and saw how her chin trembled as she tried to hide her dismay, he nodded. “It doesn’t take long once wind and rain get through one spot to start wrecking a whole building.”
“That’s true. I know I eventually will need to sell the farm. I’ve already had several offers to buy it.”
“Amish or Englisch?”
“Both, though I wouldn’t want to see the acres broken up and a bunch of Englisch houses built here.”
“Some Englischers like to live on a small farm, as we do.” He used the last piece of crust to collect the remaining apple filling on the plate. “My neighbors are like that.”
“I didn’t realize you had Englisch neighbors.”
“Ja.” He picked up his cup of tea. “Their Alexis and my Timothy have played together from the time they could walk.”
“Will Alexis babysit for you?”
Joshua shook his head, lowering his untasted tea to the table. “She’s involved in many activities at the high school and her part-time job, so she’s seldom around. I hear her driving into their yard late every evening.”
“Who’s going to take care of Levi and Deborah while you’re at work?”
God, You guided our conversation to this point. Be with me now if it’s Your will for this marriage to go forward.
He took a deep breath, then said, “I’m hoping you’ll help me, Rebekah.”
“Me? I’d be glad to once school is out, but come fall we live too far away for the kinder to walk here after school.”
“I was hoping you might consider a move.” He chided himself for what sounded like a stupid answer.
“I’d like to live in Paradise Springs, but I can’t think of moving until I sell the farm. A lot needs to be repaired before I do, or I’ll get next to nothing for it.”
“I’d be glad to help.”
“In exchange for babysitting?” She shook her head with a sad smile. “It’s a wunderbaar idea, but it doesn’t solve the distance problem.”
He looked down at the table and the picture Samuel had drawn. Right now his life felt as jumbled as those lines. He couldn’t meet Rebekah’s eyes as he asked, “What if distance wasn’t a problem?”
“I don’t understand.”
Talking in circles wasn’t getting him anywhere and putting off asking the question any longer was dumm. He caught her puzzled gaze and held it, trying not to lose himself in her soft blue eyes. “Rebekah Burkholder, will you marry me?”
* * *
Rebekah choked on her gasp. She’d been puzzled about the reason for Joshua Stoltzfus’s visit, but if she’d guessed every minute for the rest of her life, she couldn’t have imagined it would be for him to propose.
Her son let out a protest, and she realized she’d tightened her hold around his waist until he couldn’t breathe. Loosening her arm, she set Sammy on the floor. She urged him to go and play with his wooden blocks stacked near the arch into the front room.
“He doesn’t need to be a part of this conversation.” She watched the little boy toddle to the blocks. She needed time to get her features back under control before she answered Joshua’s astonishing question.
“I agree,” Joshua said in a tense voice.
She clasped her hands in her lap and looked at him. His brown hair glistened in the sunlight coming through the kitchen windows, but his eyes, which were even darker, had become bottomless, shadowed pools. He was even more handsome than he’d been when she’d first met him years ago, because his sharply sculpted nose now fit with his other strong features. His black suspenders drew her eyes to his powerful shoulders and arms, which had been honed by years of building buggies. His broad hands, which now gripped the edge of the table, had been compassionate when they’d touched hers yesterday.
Had he planned to ask her to be his wife even then? Was that why he’d been solicitous of her and Sammy? She was confused because Joshua Stoltzfus didn’t seem to have a duplicitous bone in his body. But if he hadn’t been thinking about proposing yesterday, why had he today?
The only way to know was to ask. She forced out the words she must. “Why would you propose to me?”
“You need a husband, and I need a wife.” His voice was as emotionless as if they spoke about last week’s weather. “We’ve known each other for a very long time, and it’s common for Amish widows and widowers to remarry. But even more important, you’re Lloyd’s widow.”
“Why is that more important?”
“Lloyd and I once told each other that if something happened to one of us, we would take care of the other’s family.”
“It isn’t our way to make vows.”
“I know, but Lloyd was insistent that I agree to make sure his wife and family were cared for if something happened to him. I saw the gut sense and asked if he would do the same for me.” He folded his arms on the table. “He was my friend, and I can’t imagine anyone I would have trusted more with my family.”
Rebekah quickly lowered her eyes from his sincere gaze. He truly believed Lloyd was the man she once had believed he was, too. She couldn’t tell him the truth. Not about Lloyd, but she could tell him the truth about how foolish he was to ask her to be his wife.
“There’s a big difference between taking care of your friend’s family and...” She couldn’t even say the word marry.
“But I haven’t even taken care of you as I promised him.”
“We’ve managed, and we will until I can sell the farm. Danki for your concern, Joshua. I appreciate what you are doing, but it’s not necessary.”
“I disagree. The fact remains I need a wife and you need a husband.”
“You need a babysitter and I need a carpenter.”
His lips twitched and she wanted to ask what he found amusing about this absurd conversation. Was it a jest he’d devised to make her smile? She pushed aside that thought as quickly as it’d formed. Joshua was a gut man. That was what everyone said, and she agreed. He wouldn’t play such a prank on her. He must be sincere.
A dozen different emotions spiraled through her. She didn’t know what to feel. Flattered that he’d considered her as a prospect to be his wife? Fear she might be as foolish as she had been the last time a man had proposed? Not that she believed Joshua would raise his hand and strike her, but then she hadn’t guessed Lloyd would, either. And, to be honest, she never could have envisioned Joshua asking her to marry him.
“Rebekah,” he said as his gaze captured hers again. “I know this is sudden, and I know you must think I’m ab in kopp—”
“The thought you’re crazy has crossed my mind. More than once.”
He chuckled, the sound soothing because it reminded her of the many other times she’d heard him laugh. He never laughed at another’s expense.
“I’m sure it has, but I assure you that I haven’t lost my mind.” He paused, toyed with his cup, then asked, “Will you give me an answer, Rebekah? Will you marry me?”
“But why? I don’t love you.” Her cheeks turned to fire as she hurried to add, “That sounded awful. I’m sorry. The truth is you’ve always been a gut friend, Joshua, which is why I feel I can be blunt.”
“If we can’t speak honestly now, I can’t imagine when we could.”
“Then I will honestly say I don’t understand why you’d ask me to m-m-marry you.” She hated how she stumbled over the simple word.
No, it wasn’t simple. There was nothing simple about Joshua Stoltzfus appearing at her door to ask her to become his wife. As he’d assured her, he wasn’t ab in kopp. In fact, Joshua—up until today—had been the sanest man she’d ever met.
“Because we could help each other. Isn’t that what a husband and wife are? Helpmeets?” He cleared his throat. “I would rather marry a woman I know and respect as a friend. We’ve both married once for love, and we’ve both lost the ones we love. Is it wrong to be more practical this time?”
Every inch of her wanted to shout, “Ja!” But his words made sense.
She had married Lloyd because she’d been infatuated with him and the idea of being his wife, so much so that she had convinced herself while they were courting to ignore how rough and demanding he had been with her when she’d caught the odor of beer on his breath. She’d accepted his excuses and his reassurances it wouldn’t happen again...even when it had. She’d been blinded by love. How much better would it be to marry with her eyes wide open? No surprises and a husband whom she counted among her friends.
A pulse of excitement rushed up through her. She could escape, at last, from this farm, which had become a prison of pain and grief and second-guessing herself while she spun lies to protect the very person who had hurt her. She’d be a fool not to agree immediately.
Once she would have asked for time to pray about her decision, but she’d stopped reaching out to God when He hadn’t delivered her from Lloyd’s abuse. She believed in Him, and she trusted God to take care of the great issues of the world. Those kept Him so busy He didn’t have time for small problems like hers.
“All right,” she said. “I will marry you.”
“Really?” He appeared shocked, as if he hadn’t thought she’d agree quickly.
“Ja.” She didn’t add anything more, because there wasn’t anything more to say. They would be wed, for better and for worse. And she was sure the worse couldn’t be as bad as her marriage to Lloyd.
Chapter Three (#ulink_02eb5567-7629-549a-a961-f5d411de1e8e)
Rebekah straightened her son’s shirt. Even though Sammy was almost three, she continued to make his shirts with snaps at the bottom like a boppli’s gown. They kept his shirt from popping out the back of his pants and flapping behind him.
“It’s time to go downstairs,” she said to him as she glanced at her mamm, who sat on the bed in the room that once had been Rebekah and Lloyd’s. “Grossmammi can’t wait to have you sit with her.”
“Sit with Mamm.” His lower lip stuck out in a pout.
“But I have cookies.” Almina Mast smiled at her grandson. She was a tiny woman, and her hair was the same white as her kapp. With a kind heart and a generous spirit, she and her husband Uriah had hoped for more kinder, but Rebekah had been their only one. The love they had heaped on her now was offered to Sammy.
“Cookies? Ja, ja!” He danced about to his tuneless song.
Mamm put a finger to her lips. “Quiet boys get cookies.”
Sammy stilled, and Rebekah almost smiled at his antics. If she’d smiled, it would have been the first time since Joshua had asked her to marry three weeks ago. Since then the time had sped past like the landscape outside the window when she rode in an Englischer’s van last week while they’d gone to Lancaster to get their marriage license. Otherwise she hadn’t seen him. She understood he was busy repairing equipment damaged during last year’s harvest.
“Blessings on you, Rebekah.” Mamm kissed her cheek. “May God bless you and bring you even more happiness with your second husband than he did with your first.”
Rebekah stiffened. Did Mamm know the truth of how Lloyd had treated her? No, Mamm simply was wishing her a happy marriage.
A shiver ached along her stiff shoulders. Nobody knew what had happened in the house she’d shared with Lloyd. And she had no idea what life was like in Joshua Stoltzfus’s home. His wife had always been cheerful when they’d been together, but so had Rebekah. Joshua showed affection for his wife and his kinder...as Lloyd had when he was sober.
She’d chosen the wrong man to marry once. What if she was making the same mistake? How well did she know Joshua Stoltzfus? At least she and Lloyd had courted for a while. She was walking into this marriage blind. Actually she was entering into it with her eyes wide open. She was familiar with the dark side of what Lloyd had called love. His true love had been for beer. She would watch closely and be prepared if Joshua began to drink. She would leave and return to her farm.
When Mamm left with Sammy, Rebekah kneaded her hands together. She was getting remarried. If tongues wagged because Lloyd hadn’t been dead for a year, she hadn’t heard it. She guessed most of the Leit here and in Paradise Springs thought she’d been smart to accept the proposal from a man willing to raise her two kinder along with his own.
The door opened again, and Leah Beiler and Joshua’s sister Esther came in. They were serving as her attendants.
“What a lovely bride!” Leah gushed, and Rebekah wondered if Leah was thinking about when the day would come for her marriage to Joshua’s younger brother Ezra. Leah was preparing to become a church member, and that was an important step toward marriage. Even though nothing had been announced and wouldn’t be until the engagement was published two weeks before the marriage, it was generally suspected that the couple, who’d been separated for ten years, planned to wed in the fall.
Esther brushed invisible dust off the royal blue sleeve of Rebekah’s dress. For this one day, Rebekah would be forgiven for not wearing black as she should for a year of mourning.
“Ja,” Esther said as she moved to stand behind Rebekah. “It makes your eyes look an even prettier blue. Let us help you with your apron.”
Every bride wore a white apron to match her kapp on her wedding day. She shouldn’t have worn it again until she was buried with it, but Rebekah was putting it on for a second time today. Pulling it over her head, she slipped her arms through and let the sheer fabric settle on her dress.
“Oh.” Esther chuckled. “There may be a problem.”
Rebekah looked down and realized her wedding apron was stretched tightly across her belly. Looking over her shoulder at the other two women who were focused on the tabs that closed it with straight pins at the back, she asked, “Are they long enough?”
“I think so.” Leah muttered something under her breath, then said, “There. They’re pinned.”
“Will it hold? It will be humiliating if one of the pins popped when I kneel.”
“We’ll pray they will stay in place.” Esther chuckled. “If one goes flying, it’ll make for a memorable wedding service.”
Leah laughed, too. “I’m going to make my apron tabs extra long on my aprons from now on.”
Rebekah couldn’t manage more than a weak smile. “That’s a gut idea.”
The door opened and Joshua’s daughter, Deborah, peeked in. “The ministers and the bishop have come in. Are you ready to go down?”
“Ja,” Rebekah replied, though she wanted to climb out the window and run as far away as she could. What had she been thinking when she’d told Joshua yes? She was marrying a man whom she didn’t love, a man who needed someone to watch his kinder and keep his house. She should have stopped this before it started. Now it was too late for second thoughts, but she was having second thoughts and third and fourth ones.
As she followed the others down the stairs to the room where the service was to be held, she tried not to think of the girl she’d been the last time she’d made this journey. It was impossible. She’d been optimistic and naive and in love as she’d walked on air to marry Lloyd Burkholder.
A longing to pray filled her, but she hadn’t reached out to God in more than a year. She didn’t know how to start now.
As she entered the room where more than two hundred guests stood, her gaze riveted on Joshua who waited among the men on the far side of the room. The sight of him dressed in his very best clothing and flanked by his two sons made the whole of this irrevocably real.
It has to be better than being married to Lloyd, she reminded herself. She and Sammy and her boppli wouldn’t have to hide in an outbuilding as they had on nights when Lloyd had gone on a drunken rampage. She’d seen Joshua with his late wife, and he’d been an attentive husband. When Lloyd had teased him about doing a woman’s work after Joshua brought extra lemonade out to the porch for them to enjoy, Joshua had laughed away his words.
But he doesn’t love you. This is little more than a business arrangement.
She hoped none of her thoughts were visible as she affixed a smile in place and went with Leah and Esther to the bench facing the men’s. As they sat so the service could begin, Sammy waved to her from where he perched next to Mamm. She smiled at him, a sincere smile this time. She was doing this for him. There was no price too high to give him a safe home.
Squaring her shoulders, she prepared herself to speak the words that would tie her life to Joshua Stoltzfus’s for the rest of their lives.
* * *
Joshua put a hand on his younger son’s shoulder. Levi always had a tough time sitting still, but the boy wiggled more every second as the long service went on. Usually Levi sat with the unmarried men and boys, where his squirming wasn’t a problem. Maybe Joshua shouldn’t have asked him to be one of his Newehockers, but Levi would have been hurt if Timothy had been asked and he hadn’t.
He smiled his approval at Levi when the boy stopped shifting around on the bench. He meant to look at Reuben Lapp, their bishop who was preaching about the usual wedding service verses from the seventh chapter of the Book of Corinthians. His gaze went to Rebekah, who sat with her head slightly bowed.
Her red hair seemed to catch fire in the sunshine. A faint smile tipped the corners of her mouth, and he thought of how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Were they bright with silver sparks now?
He’d almost forgotten how to breathe when he’d seen her walk into the room. This beautiful woman would be his wife. Even though tomorrow she would return to wearing black for the rest of her year of mourning for Lloyd, the rich blue of her dress beneath her white apron banished the darkness of her grief from her face. He felt blessed that she’d agreed to become his wife.
Joshua shook that thought out of his head. He was no lovesick young man who had won the heart of the girl he’d dreamed of marrying. Instead of letting his mind wander away on such thoughts, he should be listening to Reuben.
At the end of the sermon, the bishop said, “As we are gathered here to witness this marriage, it would seem there can’t be any objections to it.”
Beside Joshua, his oldest mumbled, “As if that would do any gut.”
Joshua glanced at Timothy. His son hadn’t voiced any protests about the marriage plans in the weeks since Joshua had told his kinder Rebekah was to be his wife. Why now?
“Let the two who wish to marry come forward,” Reuben said, saving Joshua from having to point out that Timothy could have raised his concerns earlier.
Or was his son taking the opportunity to be unpleasant, as he’d often been since he’d turned sixteen? Now was not the time to try to figure that out. Now was the time to do what was right for his kinder and Rebekah’s while he fulfilled his promise to his best friend.
Joshua stood and watched as Rebekah did the same a bit more slowly. When he held out his hand to her, she took it. Relief rushed through him because he’d been unsure if she would. He should say something to her, but what? Danki? That wasn’t what a bridegroom said to his future wife as they prepared to exchange vows.
He led her to Reuben, who smiled warmly at them. Joshua released Rebekah’s hand and felt strangely alone. Of the more than two hundred people in the room, she was the only one who knew the truth of why they were getting married. He was glad they’d been honest with each other when he’d asked her to marry. Now there would be no misunderstandings between them, and they should be able to have a comfortable life.
Is that what you want? A comfortable life?
His conscience had been nagging him more as their wedding day drew closer. Every way he examined their arrangement, it seemed to be the best choice for them.
As long as you don’t add love into the equation, or do you think you don’t deserve love?
Ridiculous question. He’d had the love of his life with his first wife. No man should expect to have such a gift a second time.
“Is everything all right?” Reuben asked quietly.
Realizing the battle within him must have altered his expression, Joshua nodded. “Better than all right.” He didn’t look at Rebekah. If her face showed she was having second thoughts, too, he wasn’t sure he could go through with the marriage. No matter how much they needed each other’s help.
“Gut.” Raising his voice to be heard throughout the room, the bishop asked, “My brother, do you take our sister to be your wife until such hour as when death parts you? Do you believe this is the Lord’s will, and your prayers and faith have brought you to each other?”
“Ja.”
Reuben looked at Rebekah and asked her the same, and Joshua felt her quiver. Or was he the one shaking? When she replied ja, he released the breath he’d been holding.
The bishop led them through their vows, and they promised to be loyal and stand beside each other no matter what challenges they faced. Rebekah’s voice became steadier with each response. After Reuben placed her right hand in Joshua’s right hand and blessed them, he declared them man and wife.
The simple words struck Joshua as hard as if a half-finished buggy had collapsed on him. Wife. Rebekah Burkholder was his wife. He was no longer a widower. He was a married man with four kinder and another on the way. The bonds that connected him to Matilda had been supplanted by the ones he had just made with Rebekah.
But I will love you always, Tildie.
He glanced guiltily at his new wife and saw her own face had grown so pale that her freckles stood out like chocolate chips in a cookie. Was she thinking the same thing about Lloyd?
It might not be an auspicious beginning for their marriage that their first thoughts after saying their vows were focused on the loves they had lost.
* * *
Rebekah stifled a yawn as the family buggy slowed to a stop in front of a simple house that was larger than the one she’d shared with Lloyd. The trip from Bird-in-Hand had taken almost a half hour, and Sammy had fallen asleep on her lap. He’d spent the day running around with the other youngsters. She had planned to have him sleep in his own bed tonight until Joshua asked her to return with him to his house. She’d hesitated, because a thunderstorm was brewing to the west. Even when he’d told her, with a wink, that it was his way of getting her away from the cleanup work at the end of their wedding day, she had hesitated. She’d agreed after Mamm had reminded her that a gut wife heeded her husband’s wishes.
Joshua’s three kinder sat behind them, and when she looked back she saw the two younger ones had fallen asleep, too. Timothy sat with his arms folded over his chest, and he was scowling. That seemed to be his favorite expression.
A flash caught her eye. Through the trees to the left glowed the bright lights she knew came from the house where the Englischers lived. She’d always had plain neighbors, and she hadn’t thought about how the darkness at day’s end would be disturbed by the glare of electric lights.
“The Grangers are gut neighbors,” Joshua said as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. “That’s their back porch light. They don’t turn it on unless they’re going to be out after dark, and they’re considerate enough to turn it off when they get home. Brad put up a motion-detector light, but it kept lighting when an animal triggered it. Because it woke us, he went back to a regular light.”
“They sound like nice people.”
“Very. We have been blessed to have them as neighbors. Our kinder played together years ago, but now their older ones are off to college and only Alexis is at home.”
“Are we going to sit here yakking all night?” asked Timothy. “It’s stifling back here!”
Rebekah stiffened at his disrespectful tone, then she reminded herself they were tired.
Joshua jumped down before coming around to her side. “I’ll carry him in.” He held out his arms for Sammy.
She placed her precious kind in his arms, grateful for Joshua’s thoughtfulness. She’d been on her feet too long today, and she’d become accustomed to taking a nap when Sammy did. As she stepped down, she didn’t try to stifle her yawn.
“Let’s get you inside,” he said. “Then I’ll take care of the horse.”
“I’ll put Benny away, Daed.” Timothy bounced out and climbed on to the front seat after his brother and sister got out.
“Danki, but I expect you to come directly into the house when you’re done.”
“But, Daed, my friends—”
“Will see you on Saturday night as they always do.”
Muttering something, Timothy drove the buggy toward the barn.
Joshua watched until the vehicle was swallowed by the building’s shadow. Rebekah stood beside him, unsure if she should follow Deborah and Levi, who carried the bag she’d brought with a change of clothing for her and Sammy, into the house or remain by the man who was now her husband.
Husband! How long would it take her to get accustomed to the fact that she’d married Joshua? She was now Rebekah Mast Burkholder...Stoltzfus. Even connecting herself to him in her thoughts seemed impossible. She could have called a halt to the wedding plans right up until they’d exchanged vows. Reuben had given her that chance when he’d asked if everything was all right. Joshua had replied swiftly. Had he thought she might jilt him at the last minute?
“I’m sorry,” Joshua said, jerking her away from her unsettling thoughts.
“For what?”
“I’d hoped Timothy would want to spend time with his family this one day at least.” He looked down at Sammy. “He used to be as sweet as this little one.”
Rebekah didn’t know what to say. She started to put her hand on his arm to offer silent consolation. After pulling it back before she touched him, she locked her fingers in front of her. The easy camaraderie she’d felt for him was gone. Everything, even ordinary contact between friends, had changed with a few words. Nothing was casual any longer. Any word, any motion, any glance had taken on a deeper meaning.
Feeling as if she’d already disappointed him because she had said nothing, she followed him into the light green kitchen. Joshua turned on the propane floor lamp while Levi lit a kerosene lantern in the center of the table.
Again Rebekah was speechless, but this time with shock. Every flat surface, including the stove and the top of the refrigerator, was covered with stacks of dirty dishes. What looked to be a laundry basket was so full that the clothes had fallen into jumbled heaps around it. She couldn’t tell if the clothes were clean or dirty.
“Daedi cooked our breakfast,” Deborah said in a loud whisper beneath the hiss of the propane.
Joshua had the decency to look embarrassed as he set Sammy on the floor. Her son had woken as they’d stepped inside. “I meant to clean the house before you arrived, Rebekah, but I had a rush job yesterday, and then we had to get over to your house early today and...” He leaned one hand on the table, then yanked it away with a grimace.
Going to the sink beneath a large window, Rebekah dampened a dishrag. She took it to Joshua and as he wiped his hand off said, “You asked me to come back here tonight because you didn’t want me to have to straighten up at my house after such a long day. And then you brought me here to this?” She burst into laughter. Maybe it was fueled by exhaustion and the stress of pretending to be a happy bride. The whole situation was so ludicrous that if she didn’t laugh, she’d start weeping.
“I can see where you’d find that confusing,” he said as he glanced around the kitchen.
“Confusing?” More laughter erupted from her, and she pressed her hands over her belly. “Is that what you call this chaos?”
Deborah giggled. “Daedi always uses twice as many dishes and pans because he starts making one thing and ends up cooking something else entirely.”
“It’s usually because I don’t have one of the ingredients,” Joshua said, his lips twitching.
“Or you don’t remember the recipe,” Levi crowed.
“Ja, that’s true.” Joshua dropped the dishrag on the table and took off his best hat. “I can put a buggy together with my eyes closed—or near to that—but baking a casserole trips me up every time.”
Laughter filled the kitchen as everyone joined in.
Picking up the cloth, Rebekah put it on the sink. “I’ll face this in the morning.”
“A gut idea.” To his kinder, he said, “Off to bed with you.”
“Will you come up for our prayers?” Levi asked.
“Ja.”
Deborah took Sammy’s hand. “Komm upstairs with me.”
“No,” Rebekah and Joshua said at the same time.
The little girl halted, clearly wondering what she’d done wrong.
“I’ll put him to bed,” Rebekah added. “Everything is new to him. Sammy, why don’t you give Deborah and Levi hugs?”
The little boy, who was half asleep on his feet, nodded and complied.
“You’re my brother now.” Deborah’s smile brightened her whole face. “When we found out Daedi was going to marry you, Rebekah, I was happy. I’m not the boppli of the family any longer.”
“Sammy will be glad to have a big sister and big brothers.” She looked at Levi, who gave her a shy smile. Should she offer to hug the kinder, too?
Before she could decide, the back door opened. Timothy came in, bringing a puff of humid air with him. He glared at them, especially Joshua, before striding through the kitchen. His footsteps resounded on the stairs as he went up.
Rebekah saw Joshua’s eyes narrow. Timothy hadn’t spoken to her once. At sixteen he didn’t need a mamm, but perhaps he would come to see her as someone he could trust. Maybe even eventually as a friend.
Subdued, Deborah and Levi went out of the kitchen. Their footfalls were much softer on the stairs.
“I’m sorry,” Joshua said into the silence.
She scooped up Sammy and cradled him. “He’s a teenager. It’s not easy.”
“I realize that, but I hope you realize his rudeness isn’t aimed at you. It’s aimed at me.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw, then down his beard. “I don’t know how to handle him because I wasn’t a rebellious kid myself.”
“I wasn’t, either.”
“Too bad.” The twinkle returned to his eyes. “If you’d been, you might be able to give me some hints on dealing with him.”
She smiled at his teasing. He’d been someone she’d deemed a friend for years. She must—they must—make sure they didn’t lose that friendship as they navigated this strange path they’d promised to walk together.
Joshua pointed at her and put a finger to his lips. She looked down to see Sammy was once more asleep. Joshua motioned for her to come with him.
Rebekah followed him through the living room. It looked as it had the last time she had been there before Matilda died. The same furniture, the same paint, the same sewing machine in a corner. She glanced toward the front door. The same wooden clock that didn’t work. With a start she realized that under the piles of dishes and scattered clothing the kitchen was identical to when Matilda had been alive. It was as if time had stopped in this house with Matilda’s last breath.
Opening a door on the other side of the stairs, Joshua lit a lamp. The double bed was topped by a wild-goose-chase-patterned quilt done in cheerful shades of red and yellow and blue. He walked past it to a small bed his kinder must have used when they were Sammy’s age. Another pretty quilt, this one in the sunshine-and-shadow pattern done in blacks and grays and white, was spread across it. Drawing it back along with the sheet beneath it, he stepped aside so she could slip the little boy in without waking him.
She straightened and looked around. The bedroom was large. A tall bureau was set against the wall opposite the room’s two windows, and the bare floors shone with years of care. A quartet of pegs held a kapp, a dusty black bonnet and a straw hat. She wasn’t surprised when Joshua placed his gut hat on the empty peg.
This must have been Joshua and Matilda’s room. Suddenly the room seemed way too small. Aware of Joshua going to the bureau and opening the drawers, she lowered the dark green shades on the windows. She doubted Sammy would sleep late in the morning. Usually he was up with the sun.
She faced Joshua and saw he had gathered his work clothes. He picked them up from the blanket chest at the foot of the bed. His gaze slowly moved along her, and so many emotions flooded his eyes she wasn’t sure if he felt one or all at the same time. Realizing she was wringing her hands, she forced her arms to her sides.
It was the first time they’d been alone as man and wife. They stood in the room he’d shared with his first wife. She didn’t trust her voice to speak, even if she had the slightest idea what to say as she looked at the man who was now her husband. The weight on the first word she spoke was enormous. There were a lot of things she wanted to ask about the life they’d be sharing. She didn’t know how.
“Gut nacht,” he said into the strained silence. “I’ll be upstairs. Second door to the left. Don’t hesitate to knock if you or Samuel need anything. I know it’ll take you a while to get used to living in a new place.”
“Danki.”
He waited, but she couldn’t force her lips to form another word. Finally, with a nod, he began to edge past her. When she jumped back, fearful he was angry with her, he stared at her in astonishment.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, though she was as far from okay as she could be. It was beginning again. The ever-present anxiety of saying or doing the wrong thing and being punished by her husband’s heavy hand.
“Are you sure?” His eyes searched her face, so she struggled to keep her expression calm as she nodded again.
He started to say something else, then seemed to think better of it. He bid her gut nacht again before he went out of the room.
She pressed her hands to her mouth to silence her soft sob as the tears she’d kept dammed for the whole day cascaded down her cheeks. She should be grateful Joshua had given her and Sammy this lovely room. And she was. But she also felt utterly alone and scared.
“What have I done?” she whispered to the silence.
She’d made, she feared, another huge mistake by doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.
Chapter Four (#ulink_66fc16b2-1b51-561e-9cd4-dd1c62a2b635)
Joshua’s first thought when he opened his eyes the next morning was, Where am I? The angle of the ceiling was wrong. There was a single window, and the walls were too close to the bed.
Memory rushed through his mind like a tempest, wild and flowing in every direction. Yesterday he’d married Rebekah, his best friend’s widow.
Throwing back the covers, he put his feet on the rug by the bed. His beloved Tildie had started making rugs for the bedrooms shortly after they were wed, and she’d replaced each one when it became too worn. As he looked down through the thick twilight before dawn, he saw rough edges on the one under his feet. Sorrow clutched his heart. His sweet wife would never make another rug for the kinder.
Rebekah was his wife now. For better or for worse, and for as long as they lived.
He drew in a deep breath, then let it sift past his taut lips. He’d honored Lloyd’s request, and he shouldn’t have any regrets. He didn’t. Just a question.
Where did he and Rebekah go from here?
Unable to answer that, because he was not ready to consider the question too closely, he pushed himself to his feet. He dressed and did his best to shave his upper lip without a mirror. As he pulled his black suspenders over his shoulders, he walked out of the bedroom.
Light trickled from beneath one door on the other side of the hall. He heard heavy footfalls beyond it. Timothy must already have gotten up, which was a surprise because most mornings Joshua had to wake his older son. Not hearing any voices, he guessed Levi was still asleep. Not even the cacophony of a thunderstorm could wake the boy. The other doorway was dark. He considered making sure Deborah was up so she wouldn’t be late for school, but decided to let her sleep. It had been late by the time the kinder had gone to bed last night.
As he went down the stairs, Joshua heard the rumble of a car engine and the crunch of tires on gravel. His neighbor must be heading into Philadelphia this morning. Brad always left before sunup when he wanted to catch the train into the city, because he had to drive a half hour east to reach the station.
It was the only normal thing today, because as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he smelled the enticing aromas of breakfast cooking. He glanced at the bedroom where he usually slept. The door was closed.
The propane lamp hissed in the kitchen as he walked in to see Rebekah at the stove. She wore a dark bandana over her glistening hair. Beneath her simple black dress and apron, her feet were bare.
“Sit down,” she said as if she’d made breakfast for him dozens of times. “Do you want milk in your kaffi?”
“No, I drink it black in the morning.”
“Are the others awake?”
“Only Timothy.” He was astounded how they spoke about such ordinary matters. There was nothing ordinary about Rebekah being in his kitchen before dawn.
“Gut. I assumed he’d get up early, too, so I made plenty of eggs and bacon.” Turning from the stove, she picked up a plate topped by biscuits. She took a single step toward the table, then halted as her gaze locked with his.
A whirlwind of emotions crisscrossed her face, and he knew he should say something to put her at ease. But what? Her fingers trembled on the plate. Before she could drop it, he reached for it. His knuckle brushed hers so lightly he wouldn’t have noticed the contact with anyone else. A heated shiver rippled across his hand and up his arm. He tightened his hold on the plate before he let it fall to the floor.
He put the biscuits on the table as she went back to the stove. Searching for something to say, he had no chance before Timothy entered the kitchen. His son walked to the table, his head down, not looking either right or left as he took his seat to the left of Joshua’s chair at the head of the table.
Rebekah came back. Setting the coffeepot on a trivet in the center of the table, she hesitated.
“Why don’t you sit here?” Joshua asked when he realized she was unsure which chair to use. He pointed to the one separated from his by the high chair he’d brought down from the attic before the wedding yesterday. He’d guessed she would want it for her son, but now discovered it created a no-man’s-land between them.
She nodded as she sat. Was that relief he saw on her face? Relief they were no longer alone in the kitchen? Relief the high chair erased any chance their elbows might inadvertently bump while they ate?
He pushed those thoughts aside as he bent his head to signal it was time for the silent grace before they ate. His prayers were more focused on his new marriage than food, and he hoped God wouldn’t mind. After all, God knew the truth about why he’d asked Rebekah to be his wife.
As soon as Joshua cleared his throat to end the prayer, Timothy reached for the bowl containing fluffy eggs. He served himself, then passed the bowl to Joshua. That was followed by biscuits and apple butter as well as bacon and sausage.
Each bite he took was more delicious. The biscuits were so light he wondered why they hadn’t floated up from the plate while they’d prayed. The kaffi had exactly the right bite for breakfast. He could not recall the last time he’d enjoyed a second cup at breakfast, because his own brew resembled sludge.
For the first time in months, Timothy was talkative. He had seconds and then thirds while chattering about a baseball game he’d heard about yesterday at the wedding, a game won by his beloved Phillies. It was as if the younger version of his son had returned, banishing the sulky teen he’d become. Even after they finished their breakfast with another silent prayer, Timothy was smiling as he left to do the barn chores he usually complained should be Levi’s now that he worked every day at the buggy shop.
Joshua waited until the back door closed behind his oldest, then said, “Tell me how you did that.”
“Did what?” Rebekah asked as she rose and picked up the used plates. After setting them on top of others stacked on the counter, she began running water to begin the massive task of washing the dirty dishes that had gathered since the last time he’d helped Deborah with them.
“Make my oldest act like a human being rather than a grumpy mule,” he replied.
“Don’t let him—or any of the other kinder—hear you say that. He wouldn’t appreciate it.”
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