A Reluctant Bride (13 page)

She wanted to chase after him and give the cash back. She didn't know what to make of it, what his reasoning was for giving her so much money. Had his father told him about her financial difficulties? For some reason she didn't think so. After seeing how he and his father had interacted that day in her father's office, she didn't think they had a good relationship.

And his reason didn't matter. She needed the money. She just didn't want to be more beholden to him than she already was.

“I'm surprised you're not waiting until Joanna comes home. I thought you'd want her and Abigail here.”

Sadie jumped up from the bed. “What I want is to get this over with.” She smoothed her dark blue dress.
Mamm
's wedding dress. She took in a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I'm nervous.”

“I understand.” Patience hugged Sadie. When she pulled back, she said, “Remember how I was right before I married Timothy? A complete wreck.”

“You were excited.” And happy. Joy had radiated from Patience that day, and it had been mirrored in her groom's eyes when they exchanged vows. All Sadie felt was misery. She didn't want to guess at what Aden was feeling. She didn't want to make the effort to care.

“But it was the most wonderful day of
mei
life.” Patience peered at Sadie. “It will be for you too.”

Sadie was tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of acting like this was all okay, that getting married to Aden Troyer while wearing her dead mother's wedding dress was perfectly normal. Yet there was nothing she could do but get it over with. “We should
geh
downstairs,” she said, picking up her black bonnet from the bed. “We've kept everyone waiting long enough.” Sadie started for the door, but Patience stopped her.

“I don't know what's going on,” Patience said, grasping Sadie's arm fully. “But I know this isn't right.”

Sadie turned around, unable to force the barest of smiles. “It's right for me, Patience. That's all that matters.”

She put on her bonnet and walked downstairs.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she wanted to weep. Although she'd always said she never wanted to marry, a tiny part of her had thought that
if
she ever married, her wedding would be perfect. She and her groom would be surrounded
by family and friends. Everyone would be laughing, except for her mother, who would of course be crying tears of joy that her stubborn daughter had finally found a
mann
to put up with her.

She touched the cuff of her long-sleeved dress, brushing her fingertips over her wrist.
Oh, Mamm, how much I miss you and Daed.
If they were here she would be at the store working beside them. She would be bickering with Abigail and encouraging Joanna. She wouldn't feel the dread and emptiness.

She wouldn't be marrying Aden.

Somehow she found the strength to keep her tears at bay and put one foot in front of the other.

The gathering in the bishop's living room was pathetic. The only people there were Aden, his mother, Timothy, and Bishop Troyer. Sol was nowhere in sight. At least she had something to be grateful for.

The bishop stood by the front window, the dark blue curtains closed tight behind him. He held his Bible in his hand and faced her. Aden stood in front of him, dressed in his Sunday clothing—a white shirt, black vest, and slim black pants. Timothy's gaze was everywhere except on Sadie and Patience, and Aden's mother stood mutely to the side, almost seeming to shrink in on herself.

As Sadie took her place next to Aden, she saw him stick his finger beneath the neckline of his crisp shirt, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his forehead glistening with a sheen of perspiration.

“Are we ready to proceed with the ceremony?” Bishop Troyer said, looking from his son to Sadie, a smile on his thin lips.

Sadie had to keep herself from walking out of the room. How could the bishop be okay with this sham of a marriage? She'd been raised to believe marriage was for life, and that a
husband should be chosen carefully. Yet Bishop Troyer, a man chosen by God to be the spiritual leader of their community, was eager to marry off his son to someone he didn't love.

How is any of this right?

“We're ready,” Aden said, his voice pitched higher than normal. He cleared his throat and faced his father.

Sadie had no other choice but to do the same.

Aden went through the motions of the wedding ceremony, his focus more on Sadie's pain than on the words his father spoke. Sweat poured down his back, even though the living room was cool. What was he doing? What were
they
doing? There was no turning back from this. Once he and Sadie accepted the vows, they would be husband and wife for the rest of their lives. He wiped his drenched forehead with his fingers.

Glancing at Sadie, he couldn't help but admire her. She stood next to him, her eyes dry, her chin lifted in resoluteness. She should be marrying the man she loves, not him. Yet she was handling the ceremony with grace and courage.

And beauty.
She is so beautiful . . .

At that moment he promised himself he would do whatever it took to be the man she deserved.

His father hurried through the ceremony, as if he was concerned that either Aden or Sadie—or both—would abandon the wedding and flee. Aden had tried to avoid
Daed
as much as he could during the week, spending most of his time with the bees and praying he was doing the right thing. Concern for his mother also had him tied up in knots. Would she be safe once he was gone? Whenever he considered backing out of the
wedding, he thought about Sol and Sadie together. The idea of her marrying his brother made his stomach turn inside out. He ultimately decided that for Sadie's sake, he had to go through with the marriage, and he promised himself that he would check on his mother as much as he could. Sadie was the innocent in all this, and he had to put her before his mother . . . and himself.

She was facing him now, her brown eyes meeting his for a brief moment, but long enough for him to see the flicker of despair in her eyes. It made him want to take her in his arms. To tell her everything would be all right. That their future was bright and happy and full of hope.

Instead he wiped his damp palms on his pant legs as he and Sadie were joined in marriage.

“We have cake!” his mother said as soon as the ceremony was over, speaking in that tinny, bright voice she used when she was under stress. He turned to see her gesturing to a small round cake covered in fluffy white icing. His gut lurched.

“Congratulations.” Timothy grabbed his hand and shook it, his expression a mix of confusion and encouragement.

“
Danki
.” Aden glanced at Sadie, who was with Patience, Timothy's
frau
. Patience was talking, but Sadie stared straight ahead, not responding. It was as if she was in shock.

“Who wants a piece?” his mother asked, brandishing a serrated cake knife. No one answered, but his mother cut the cake anyway, slopping pieces on small plastic plates.

Patience stepped forward and picked up a plate. She tasted a piece and smiled. “Delicious,” she said, looking at Sadie. “Do you want some?”

Sadie shook her head. “Excuse me,” she said, then ran upstairs.

The room was quiet. Aden's feet felt like concrete. He was unsure what to do.

His father came up beside him. “As it says in Ephesians, ‘The husband is the head of the wife.' This is an opportunity to help her understand her place.”

“Her place?”

“See to
yer frau
, Aden.” He leaned closer. “Be a
mann
for once.”

The insult would have stung if Aden hadn't heard it so many times over the years. And while he was unsure what “seeing to” his wife meant, he did know that now that he was married, he wouldn't have to suffer his father's insults—and wrath—anymore.

That brought a smile to his face.

“
Gut
. I see you understand me.”

But you never understood me.

Eagerness to get away from his father surmounted his trepidation over checking on Sadie. When he reached the top of the stairs, he asked God to give him the right words to say.

Sadie burst into Aden's room—the only room she was familiar with in the Troyer household—and yanked on her bonnet ties. Downstairs the room had suddenly become too confining, too suffocating. Watching Aden's mother pass out cake as if they had something to celebrate was the breaking point. She sat down on his rock-hard mattress and buried her head in her hands.

She wanted to cry. She
needed
to cry. But her eyes remained dry, her sobs staying trapped in her chest, squeezing her heart so hard the room started to spin.

“Sadie?” A soft knock sounded on the door.

She looked up. Aden. His voice was tentative. Fearful, almost. She wanted to yell at him to go away. But she couldn't do that, not while she was in
his
room. Not when his parents,
particularly his father, expected nothing less than for his son and daughter-in-law to keep up appearances. She clenched her bonnet in her hand, stood, and answered the door.

“May I come in?” he asked quietly.

His reddish hair was damp on the ends and his cheeks were still ruddy from his profuse sweating. She almost felt sorry for him—almost. She shrugged and stepped away, allowing him to walk inside the room. He closed the door quietly behind him, but made no move toward her.

Unable to take the silence, she snapped, “What?”

He tilted his head to the side, his green eyes taking her in. Not in the leering, offensive way Sol had looked at her in the cornfield. Instead, his gaze was almost reverential. Which didn't make any sense to her at all.

He walked past her. She watched as he opened up his small closet and pulled out a duffel bag. He put it on the floor next to his bed and then sat down, not saying a word.

She crossed her arms and stared at him. “What?” she asked again, unable to take the silence engulfing the room.

“When you're ready, I'll take you home.” He didn't move. He didn't say anything else. He sat on the edge of his pitiful mattress, his hands resting on his knees, and continued waiting. No pressure. No cajoling. Just calm patience.

He continued to confuse her, which stoked her animosity. She didn't want him to be
nice
. She didn't want his kindness. She didn't want to think about how she knew, for some unknown reason, that she could take his hand and find comfort from his touch.

She didn't want that to be possible.

Uncrossing her arms, she threw the door open. “I'm ready,” she said and went downstairs, not bothering to wait for him.
Patience and Timothy were still there, talking with the Troyers. Sadie didn't want to stay in their house a minute longer.

She gave Patience a quick hug, unable to speak. She didn't even look at Timothy or the bishop and his wife as she hurried out the front door to the end of the driveway to wait for Aden. For her
husband
.

Now she had to fight to keep from crying.