An Amish Match (5 page)

“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

J
oshua'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.”

“Or having his sister and brother repeat it.”

“And Sammy, too.
Kinder
his age grab on to a word and use it over and over.” She smiled as she put soap into the water and reached for a dishrag. Not finding one, she glanced around.

“Second drawer,” he said, hoping there was a clean dishcloth. Like the dishes, laundry had piled up, ignored during the past week.

“Danki.”
She opened the drawer and pulled out a cloth. “I'll get accustomed to where everything is eventually.”

He knew she didn't mean to, but her words were like a pail of icy water splashing in his face. A reminder that no matter how much they might pretend, everything had changed.

No, not everything. He still held on to his love for Tildie.

That will never change
, he silently promised his late wife.

Never, because he wasn't going to chance putting his heart through such pain ever again.

* * *

Everything seemed unfamiliar in the Stoltzfus kitchen, yet familiar at the same time.

Rebekah was cooking breakfast as she did each morning while she waited for the bread dough to rise a second time. She prepared enough for Levi and Deborah. Or she thought she had until she saw Levi could tuck away as much as his older brother. She fried the last two eggs for the boy, who ate them with enthusiasm.

“You cook
gut
! Real
gut
!” Levi said as he took his straw hat off the peg by the back door. With a grin at his sister, he added, “You should learn from her.”

“She will,” Rebekah replied gently when she saw the dismay on the little girl's face. “After school, Levi, while you are doing your chores, Deborah and I will be preparing your supper.”

She was rewarded by a broad smile from Joshua's daughter, who said, “Levi is going to
Onkel
Daniel's shop after school.” Deborah picked up the blue plastic lunch box and stepped aside so her brother could take the green one. “I'll be walking home with Mandy Beiler. Mandy lives down the road from
Grossmammi
Stoltzfus. She used to live in Philadelphia, but she lives here now. She is almost the same age I am. We—”

“We need to go.” Levi frowned at his sister. “We don't want to arrive after the school bell rings. We won't have time to play baseball if we're late.”

Deborah rolled her eyes as if ancient and world-weary. “All he thinks about is baseball.”

“Like Timothy,” Rebekah said as she wiped Sammy's hands before giving him another half biscuit.

“Timothy thinks about girls, too, especially Alexis next door. He talks to her every chance he can get.” Levi put his hand over his mouth and gave a guilty glance toward his sister.

“I'm sure he does,” Rebekah said quietly. “They've been friends their whole lives, haven't they?”

“
Ja
, friends.” Deborah scowled at her brother. “Saying otherwise is silly. She is
Englisch
.”

Levi nodded and opened the door. His smile returned when he added, “At the wedding he was talking to some girls from Bird-in-Hand. I think he really liked—”

“Whom he likes is Timothy's business.” Rebekah smiled. “You know we don't talk about such things, so it can be a surprise when a couple is published to marry.”

“Like you and
Daedi
?” asked Deborah. “Lots of folks were surprised. I heard them say so.”

Nobody more than I
, she was tempted to reply, but she made a shooing motion toward the door. The two scholars skipped across the yard to where their scooters were waiting. They hooked their lunch boxes over the handles before pushing them along the driveway toward the road.

She prayed the Lord would keep them safe. There were fewer cars along this road than in Bird-in-Hand, where carloads of tourists visited shops and restaurants.

She remained in the doorway and looked at the gray clouds thickening overhead. She hadn't expected to watch
kinder
leave for school for another couple of years. When Deborah looked over her shoulder and waved, the tension that had kept Rebekah tossing and turning last night diminished.

Help me make this marriage work, Lord
,
she prayed.
For the
kinder'
s sakes. They have known too much sorrow, and it's time for them to be happy as
kinder
should be.

Seeing Sammy had found the box of crayons she'd packed to bring to Joshua's house, Rebekah turned to the sink. She had to refill the sink with the water heated by solar panels on the roof. When she'd met Joshua's second-youngest brother, Micah, at the wedding, he'd mentioned how he had recently finished the installation.

She hummed a tuneless song as she washed dishes, dried them and put them in the cupboards. Outside, it began to rain steadily. Maybe she should have told the
kinder
to take umbrellas to school.

By the time she had baked the bread as well as a batch of snickerdoodles, it was time for the midday meal. Lloyd always wanted his big meal at noon, but Joshua worked off the farm, so she would prepare their dinner for the evening. She had no idea what Joshua and his
kinder
liked to eat.

Rebekah pushed aside that thought as she put Sammy in the high chair and gave him his sandwich and a glass of milk. Sitting beside him, she ate quickly, then returned to work. She was scooping up an armful of dirty laundry from the floor when she heard Sammy call her.

Turning, she asked over her shoulder, “What is it,
liebling
?”

“Go home?” Thick tears rolled down his full cheeks.

She dropped the clothes to the floor. Sitting, she lifted Sammy out of the high chair and set him beside her. There wasn't enough room on her lap for him any longer. Putting her arm around his shoulders, she nestled him close. Her heart ached to hear his grief.

“I thought we would stay here and see Deborah and Levi when they get home from school,” she said and kissed the top of his head.

“When that?”

“After Sammy has his nap.”

He wiggled away and got down. “Nap now?”

“Not until you finish your sandwich.” As she set him back in the high chair, she smiled at how eager he was to see Joshua's younger
kinder
again.

In Bird-in-Hand, Sammy had encountered other
kinder
only on church Sundays. Their neighbors didn't have youngsters, and even if they had, Sammy was too young to cross the fields on his own. She'd become accustomed to remaining home in the months before Lloyd's death because he had flown into rages when he didn't know where she was. After his death, she'd had an excuse to stay behind her closed door.

But it hadn't been fair to Sammy.

Guilt clamped around her heart. Now
that
was familiar. Each time Lloyd had lashed out at her, she'd tried to figure out what she'd done to make him strike her again.

She was Joshua Stoltzfus's wife now. Her past was gone, buried with Lloyd.

Repeating it over and over to convince herself, she cleaned Sammy up after his lunch. She took him into the bedroom for his nap, but he was too excited. Each time she settled him on the small bed with his beloved stuffed dog, he was up afterward and sneaking out of the bedroom to explore the house.

Rebekah gave up after a half hour. Skipping his nap one day wouldn't hurt him, and she was curious, too, about the rest of the house. She glanced around the kitchen. The dishes were cleaned and put away, though she suspected she hadn't put them in their proper places. She would check with Deborah so everything was as it should be when Joshua arrived home. The dirty clothes were piled on the floor in the laundry room. In the morning before breakfast, if the rain stopped, she would start the first load. She hadn't mopped the floor. That made no sense when Joshua and the
kinder
would be tracking in water and mud.