A Reluctant Bride (40 page)

“I'm sorry, Sol.” He really had no idea what his brother had truly been through with their father.

“This shack, it's so old you can see through the gaps in the wood, so I watched him,” Sol continued. “
Daed
went to the corner, lifted up a couple of loose boards, and pulled out a safe box. He keeps the key on a cord around his neck. When I saw what was inside . . . I couldn't believe it.”

“Money?”

“Lots of money. Stacks of it. The day I saw him, he was putting another stack in the box. That's when I went inside and confronted him about it.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “If I hadn't been so drunk, I probably wouldn't have.”

“What did he do to you?”

“
Nix.
He didn't do anything to me. In fact, he told me everything, about the natural gas rights, about how he was going to make sure the community fund was safe and prosperous, and how we would both financially benefit. He wanted to include me in his plan, but I had to sober up first.”

Aden rubbed his beard. “That was two years ago?”

“More or less. And yeah, I hadn't sobered up. My drinking got worse . . . as you well know. I think
Daed
's intentions might
have been
gut
at one time. It wasn't like he was spending the money on himself.”

“He was hoarding it, though.”

Sol nodded. “And I did steal it. Everything I said about taking the money and leaving Birch Creek was true. When I came back—when God led me back—I knew I had to return the money. But I couldn't give it to
Daed
. Not because I was scared about what he was going to do, but because I didn't trust him to do the right thing.”

Aden nodded. “When has he ever done the right thing?”

“He has to now. Everyone knows.”

“What are you going to do now?” Aden asked.

“I can't
geh
home, that's for sure. Don't have
mei
job, either.”

“You know, I could use
yer
help. I've still got to replace that door I busted down in the kitchen.”

“Because of me,” Sol said.

“And I've got to rebuild the frames for
mei
bees.”

Sol took off his black hat and threaded his fingers through his hair. “Again, because of me. I'm sorry I busted those up. I was drunk—”

“So if you're willing,” Aden said, holding up his hand, “you can stay on here for a while until you figure things out.”

“You sure that's okay with Sadie? And aren't her
schwesters
going to be home soon?”

“We'll make room,” Aden nodded, clapping his brother on the back. “That's what families do.”

CHAPTER 24

E
verything had fallen apart.

Emmanuel paced the length of the decrepit shack, his glare shooting to the corner where the strongbox had been pried open. How could Sol have betrayed him this way? How could he have shamed him in front of the congregation? In front of
his
church?

He stopped pacing and glowered up at the splintered ceiling. This wasn't part of God's plan. It couldn't be. He had done everything he could to make Birch Creek a prosperous community. He'd built this district from the ground up! Now he had people like Freemont Yoder and Joel Zook questioning his authority. Freemont told him they should start ministerial elections as soon as possible. Joel had agreed with him. So did a few of the other men. Emmanuel didn't want a minister and deacon looking over his shoulder. He didn't need them. He could handle everything himself.

The only thing he'd miscalculated was his unpredictable son. Solomon ruined everything with his selfish confession.

A high wind suddenly kicked up, rattling the shack. Wood cracked and splintered as the wind grew intense. Emmanuel shielded his eyes as the force sent him to his knees. A plank of rotting lumber tore loose and smacked against his head. Emmanuel toppled over, his face hitting the ground. Blood trickled from his mouth, and the wind roared in his ears as his eyes drifted shut.

Then . . . he began to dream.

Sadie felt a feather-like touch brushing against her cheek. She opened her eyes to see Aden sitting on the edge of the bed, running the back of his hand over her skin. She smiled. “How long was I asleep?”

“Most of the day. And part of the night.”

She started to sit up. “What time is it?”

“Nine. At night.” He put his hands gently on her shoulders and pressed her down on the bed. “Next you'll be asking if I ate, which I did. Sol and I had supper a little while ago. I can bring you up something if you're hungry.”

“
Nee.
I'm not hungry.” She yawned. “I don't know why I'm still tired. I took a
gut
nap.”

“Making up for lost time,” Aden said. He smiled. “Mind if I join you?”

She could see he was already in his nightshirt. She scooted over until her back was against the wall. He climbed under the quilt. They would have to get a bigger bed . . . or move to a different room. She put her head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Sol's going to stay on for a little while,” he said.

Sadie looked up at him. He hadn't turned out the light yet,
and it shined behind him, making the tufts of his reddish hair resemble the color of flame. “All right.”

“Just until he figures things out. I'm sure it won't be long.”

“He can stay as long as he needs to.”

He moved his arm and rolled over on his side until he was facing her. She listened as he told her what Sol had revealed about the shack, the money, and the natural gas rights. “When we find that paperwork, we're not signing anything over to
mei vatter
.”

“If we find the paperwork.” She brushed aside his bangs. He had a small scar at the end of his eyebrow. She hadn't noticed it before, and she made a mental note to ask him about it. “I'm beginning to think we never will.” She frowned. “We could use the money.”

“We could.” He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “But if we can't find it, we'll be okay. I believe that.”

She nodded, because she did too. God had taken them both through some dark times, and she was starting to believe they might be coming out the other side. That didn't mean she would stop missing her parents. Or that Aden would never struggle with the pain of his past. When Joanna returned home, she would need help. But Sadie and her sisters were no longer alone. They had Aden and Sol, a fact she was still trying to wrap her head around. Plus they had a community that would be there for them. Out of grief and confusion she had pushed so many of them away after her parents died. She would never do that again.

Aden leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “What are you thinking about?”

She was about to tell him, but his tiny kiss, coupled with the way he was looking at her, had her thoughts going in an entirely
different direction. She tilted her head up to kiss him when a pounding sounded on the door.

“
Ya
?” Aden said, sounding as annoyed as she felt.

“It's
Daed
,” Sol said, sounding breathless through the door. “He's here.”

Aden scrambled out of bed, picking his pants up off the floor and yanking them on. His nightshirt was tucked halfway inside his waistband. “Stay here,” he said to her, then flew out the door.

Sadie sat up in bed. She was still wearing her church dress, but she had taken off her
kapp
. Worry propelled her from the bed, and she quickly wrapped a kerchief around her head. She paced the room, but after five minutes she couldn't stand it anymore. Aden might be mad at her for not listening to him, but she had to find out what was going on.

She hurried down the stairs and saw the living room was empty. So was the kitchen. Where were they? She went to the front window and looked outside. In the dim light that came from a streetlamp a few yards down the road, she could see three people standing next to a buggy—Aden, Sol . . .
and their mother
?

“Sit down,
Mamm
,” Aden said, pulling out a kitchen chair for his mother. He had finally convinced her to come inside. Sol had been mistaken, thinking it was their father who had come to see them. Their mother rarely took the buggy out by herself, and never at night. “We need to talk about this.”

“There's not much more I can say.” She did sit, though, and Aden saw that as a good sign. Her eyes were more bloodshot than he'd ever seen them. She'd been crying, and when she told them what their father had done, he couldn't blame her.

“He came home this afternoon and told me he had to
geh
. That God had told him to leave Birch Creek. And me.”

Sol shook his head, his hands curling into fists, his tone reminiscent of “old” Sol. “I can't believe he would do this to you.” He looked at Aden. “To us.”

“
Yer vatter
is . . . complicated.”

“Stop making excuses for him!” Sol unfolded his hands and put them under the table. “He's selfish and greedy,
Mamm
. That's why he left.”

She shook her head. “You don't understand.”

Aden reached for her hand. “Then help us,
Mamm
. Tell us why he ran away.”

Mamm
pulled out of Aden's grasp. “You never met
yer
grandfather. He was a cold, cruel man.”

“Sounds familiar,” Sol muttered.

Aden shot him a look.

“He treated his family horribly. Especially
yer
father and his brother, John.”

Aden and Sol exchanged a look.

“They were poor, very poor.
Yer
grandfather wouldn't let anyone near his family. I'm not even sure of everything that happened between them. Emmanuel never talked much about that with me.

“I loved
yer vatter
since the day I met him. I knew he was special. I knew we would marry. We did, despite his
vatter
's objections. He didn't want Emmanuel or John to succeed at anything.” She looked at Aden, then at Sol. “You have to understand, the pain he carried from his childhood made him hard. He didn't get the love he needed from his father.”

“And we did?” This time it was Aden's turn to be angry. “Is that supposed to be an excuse for the way he raised us?”

She shrank back. “There is
nee
excuse. I'm as much to blame as he is.”

“You couldn't have stood up to him,
Mamm
,” Sol said.

“But I should have.” She looked at Sol. “When you were asking for forgiveness today,
mei
heart just broke.” She touched his face. “You shouldn't have been in so much pain. Neither of you should.”

“You can stay here,” Aden said, feeling the thickness in his voice. Sol nodded his agreement.

“
Nee
, I can't. Emmanuel will be back.”

“You don't know that.”

She lifted her chin. “
Ya
. I do. He left to confront his past. The way you boys both have. He has to face it to move past it . . . to accept what he's done to you and to the community.”