Courting Cate (25 page)

Dat’s voice was closer. “Cate!”

Pete wasn’t smiling any longer.

“Later,” I said. “After the wedding . . .”

Without waiting for his response, I turned and fled.

I’d never heard of an Amish couple getting an annulment—but I’d never heard of anyone in the predicament we were in either. I didn’t think I could spend the rest of my life living with someone who didn’t love me.

But more than that, I didn’t want Pete to live with someone he didn’t love. I’d felt trapped on the Tregers’ farm at first, but now I knew Pete was the one who was being held hostage. Sure, he hadn’t been able to marry Jana, but there was another love out there for him. Someone like her. Someone like Betsy. Someone less complicated than I was. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find the right girl.

As for me, I’d learned a lot, including that my suspicions had been proven wrong—twice. There was no doubt Betsy had set me up in a sense, but I’d jumped to conclusions with Jana too. Maybe Pete was right. Maybe I did speculate too much.

In the long run, I was going to bring much more shame to Dat and dishonor to our family than if I’d never married Pete. But I knew, regardless of the pain that was ahead, I needed to set my husband free. Because I loved him.

Dat was standing in the driveway, waiting for me. “Betsy needs you,” he said.

I was pretty sure she really didn’t need me. She just needed me not to be mad at her. The funny thing was, I wasn’t. Sure I was upset about the predicament I was in, but I was relieved she hadn’t been as promiscuous as I’d feared.

“And I need to talk to you.” Dat’s expression was as serious as I’d ever seen it. “I was praying last night, for Betsy and Levi. Then for you and Pete. And God convicted me of my selfishness.”

Puzzled, I put my hand flat on top of my Kapp.

“I was wrong,” he said. “Besides your commitment to Christ and the church, who you choose to marry is the most important decision of your life. I attempted to control that by coming up with that ridiculous edict, forcing you to choose sooner, perhaps, than God would have had you.”

“Dat—”

“Nan helped me see, very gently, of course, that I had no right to do that. My intentions were good. . . .” His brow was furrowed.

“I know,” I said.

He relaxed a little. “I’m so relieved it’s worked out.” Obviously Nan hadn’t shared what I’d told her. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“I have,” I said, my stomach roiling, knowing I needed to tell him the truth.

His face softened. “I thought Betsy was too young to get married, but I’ve seen some growth in her. And I have to be willing to trust God with her decision and her future, just like I should have trusted him with you.”

Dat wasn’t a prideful person. I couldn’t fathom why I’d been so determined to protect him. Sure, Betsy had labeled
it honor and I’d agreed. But he
was
willing to trust God with her decision and her future. Why had I thought he wouldn’t have been able to do that if he’d known the truth? Or what I thought was the truth.

I put both my hands over my face.

“Cate?”

“I need to talk to you later,” I said through the cracks of my splayed fingers. “After the wedding.” I didn’t have time to tell him everything now, not before the service.

Betsy’s wedding was even more of a blur than my own. A few times I found myself staring at Pete across the aisle from me. Once I glanced up to see his eyes on me. I quickly looked away.

When the bishop clasped Betsy’s and Levi’s hands together, I teared up and offered a silent blessing, asking God to give them a long and loving marriage, trying my hardest to ignore my situation.

After the service was over, Nan found me in the kitchen and asked what she could do to help. I gave her a quick hug and asked her to make sure my father sat down with the first group. As I was directing the servers, I saw that she and Dat were sitting together at a table with Uncle Cap and Aunt Laurel. I stopped for a moment, staring at them. All four looked like old friends. And Dat and Nan looked so right together. Maybe everyone in my family but me would end up in a happy marriage.

It took three seatings to get everyone fed. I hadn’t realized Pete hadn’t eaten until I finally had a chance to sit down. He joined me, his plate heaped high, and devoured his meal while I could only pick at mine. When he stood to clear his
plate, his arm brushed against mine, spreading goose bumps across my skin.

As I watched him walk away, I spotted Mervin and Martin across the living room. Both wore sunglasses now, even in the house. They looked as forlorn as could be, and a wave of compassion swept over me. I felt their pain. We were three peas in a pod when it came to love, or more accurately, when it came to a lack of love.

Maybe Seth noticed the expression on my face, because he approached me with his Bobli in his arms.

“This is Amanda.” He turned the little one toward me.

She looked up at me with big happy eyes.

“I’m sorry we missed your wedding,” he said.

“You had a good excuse.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the Bobli. She was beautiful with her dark hair and round face.

“I’m so happy you found a good man.”

I cocked my head, wondering what M&M had told their older brother.

He continued, “You know, I teased you more than I should have, back in school.”

I nodded.

His brow furrowed. “And then, that night after the singing, I never should have said what I did.”

“Jah . . .” I wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

“The thing was, I didn’t even mean it. I cared about you, but I didn’t know how to show it.”

I cringed.

“I know I hurt you,” he said. “I can see that, even more now that I’m a Dat. I’m sorry.”

I took a deep breath. M&M were walking toward us. “Denki,” I said to Seth, “for your words.” Then I reached for the Bobli. “May I hold her?”

I stood there for a long minute with the warm weight of the little one pressed against my body—her uncles cooing over her, her Dat as happy as could be.

“I told Cate I was sorry,” Seth told his brothers, “for the way I treated her.”

“Jah,” Mervin said. “Me too. You’re not so bad after all.”

“Jah,” Martin added. “My apologies too.”

I gave a curt nod, although I appreciated the gesture, and then addressed Martin and Mervin gently, “Why the glasses, especially inside?”

“We’re feeling down,” Mervin said quietly.

“About Betsy?” I glanced from Martin to Mervin. “And Addie?”

“Jah,” they answered together.

“And you think the glasses will hide your emotions?”

They nodded.

“Please take them off.”

For some reason they obeyed, revealing their sad matching hazel eyes. “You’ll find the right girls, in time. Someone right for each of you,” I said.

“Do you really think so?” Martin asked. Both their faces were as sweet as I’d ever seen them.

“I know so,” I answered.

“Ach, Cate . . .” Martin’s voice trailed off, and then he smiled too. “I appreciate you caring. And”—he cleared his throat—“I’m sorry about the envelope on your wedding day.”

“Jah,” Mervin chimed in. “That was really low of us.”

I blinked hard, delaying my response for just a moment, feeling the old anger return. . . . But then I swallowed and squeaked out, “I forgive you.”

All three brothers nodded in appreciation and then started cooing over the Bobli again. My eyes fell on her too, and
when I looked back up, Pete had joined our circle, a look of tenderness on his face. I fumbled the Bobli back into her father’s arms, intending to flee to the kitchen. But Betsy came laughing through the front door just then, followed by a befuddled Levi.

In another moment, my public humiliation was complete.

“We were just down at the Dawdi Haus.” Betsy’s voice was full of fun. She giggled and pointed at me as she announced to everyone, “They’re sleeping in separate rooms.”

Silence fell over the room.

“Betsy,” I gasped.

She looked around, speaking loudly. “Pete’s mummy bag is on the guest room floor.” She giggled again and wagged her finger at me. “That’s no way to treat your husband.”

My hands flew to my face, as if I could cover my shame.

Dat, who had been on the porch, bellowed, “Betsy!”

I couldn’t see well through my fingers, so I may or may not have imagined that Pete stepped toward me, but it was Dat who reached me first, firmly taking my elbow.

“Let’s walk.” He led me through the crowded kitchen and out the back door, past the garden, away from my spoiled Schwester and our curious guests.

“Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?” Dat finally asked as we reached the shade of the barn.

“I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t stop the tears. “I’ve embarrassed you again. Shamed you—when that’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”

He turned me toward him. “What are you talking about?” He lifted my chin. “You have never brought me shame. You are the one who has always held our family together.”

“That’s not true,” I said, fighting off a new round of tears. “Hear me out.” I exhaled. “This is what I would have told you this morning, if I’d had more time.” I spilled every detail of the story, including Martin and Mervin paying Pete, right up to Betsy’s prewedding revelation.

His face grew paler with each turn of events.

“I’m so sorry for keeping what I thought was Betsy’s secret,” I said, “and for deceiving you about my relationship with Pete.”

He shook his head. “It’s all because of that ridiculous edict of mine.”

“You already apologized for that. And, in the end, marrying Pete was my choice, mine alone.”

In a hoarse voice, he said, “Tell me what I can do.”

“Pete and I should probably try to get an annulment. . . .”

“I’ll go to the bishop immediately.”

“No,” I answered. “Wait until I talk things through with Pete.”

“Then I’ll move you back into the big house tonight,” Dat said.

I shook my head. “Pete and I need to figure this out. I’ll let you know.”

He put both of his hands on my shoulders. “None of this brings me shame. Sure, I wish you’d talked to me, hadn’t tried to fix things on your own. . . . But you wanting to do the right thing for your family, now, that’s what honors me.”

I swallowed hard, determined not to cry again. “Denki,” I whispered.

His eyes met mine. “Tell me something I can do to help you, right now.”

“Please pray,” I said. “For Pete and me.”

“Of course,” he said, hugging me tightly. “And I’m going to fetch Betsy. She needs to apologize—now.”

“Oh, Dat . . .”

“You two need to work this through. Wait here.”

He could be a softie, but I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer on this.

As he left, I stumbled through the open barn door and down to Thunder’s stall. As I stepped inside, he greeted me with a nudge and then nuzzled my hand. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

A few minutes later, Betsy’s steps fell across the concrete floor. “Dat sent me,” she said, stopping outside the stall.

“Jah,” I answered. “But I’m not so sure I’m ready to talk.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be so sensitive. I was only joking.”

“At my expense.” I felt the old anger rising, but this time I wasn’t sure it was a bad thing.

She balled one hand into a fist.

I stepped away from Thunder. “Remember what you said about how I raised you?”

She nodded.

“You were right.” I opened the stall gate, passed through, and then leaned against it for support. “I did do a horrible job. ”

She thrust her fist into her apron pocket.

I didn’t want to rehash all the things I should have done differently. At that moment I just wanted to address what she had done.

My voice was calm but firm. “You had no right to say those things.”

A shadow in the open doorway distracted me for half a
second, but thinking it was a bird, I forged ahead. “I don’t know if we’ll stay here or go back to New York, but I will follow Pete wherever he goes, whatever he decides.” Even if that meant getting an annulment, but I wasn’t going to share that possibility with Betsy. If that became my reality, she’d find out soon enough.

I continued. “You know nothing about my marriage.” My voice rose a notch. “I love Pete.” That was true, no matter the outcome of our relationship.

Betsy’s eyes widened as a deep voice called out, “Cate?”

Shading my eyes, I made out my husband’s silhouette in the doorway of the barn.

I froze for a moment before managing to answer, “Betsy and I were just talking.”

As he strode away, he said, in an apologetic tone, “I’ll find you later, then.”

I started to follow, but Betsy caught my arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Really, I am. For everything. Dat helped me see how badly I’ve behaved.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. I reached out and took her in my arms for a quick moment, then squeaked, “I’ve got to go.”

Outside, I placed my hand to my brow against the afternoon sun but didn’t see Pete. I hurried around the barn. He was gone.

Near despair and not wanting to face our guests, I snuck behind the shop to the silver maple tree and climbed up onto the bottom branch, my back against the trunk.

“Help!” I said to God again. No matter what happened with Pete, no matter what Betsy had done to me, no matter all the mistakes I’d made, I didn’t want to go back to being the shrew I’d been.

That was what mattered most—how I treated God and others.

In that moment, sitting in the tree, I no longer felt the trunk against my back. Instead I felt God’s arms embrace me and hold me tight as the breeze played the fluttering leaves like chimes. His comfort finally reached me, deep inside. That unlovable feeling that had haunted my soul for far too long was gone.

God loved me, for sure, whether Pete ever would or not.

That was where Pete found me nearly an hour later.

“Mind if I join you?” He wore a serious expression on his face.

Before I could answer, he pulled himself up quickly, settling onto the branch across from me.

Pete spoke gently, his voice a murmur above the breeze. “When I sat in this tree the very first time,” he said, “I knew I wanted to court you.”

“Stop.” My hand gripped the branch above. “You were paid to pursue me.”

“I never took the money.”

My heart constricted at his lie. M&M had just apologized to me for paying him. “I don’t believe you.”

“I was going to, sure. Why not? I figured I might as well let them pay me for what I intended to do anyway. But then I told them no. I said—”

“What about the envelope?”

“It was empty. Their parting joke on our wedding day.”

My eyebrows shot up. Martin
had
used the word
envelope
when he apologized, not
money
.

“Honest, Cate. Please believe me.”

Both sorrow and relief filled me. Pete
hadn’t
betrayed me. Still, I’d ruined everything.

He shifted on the branch, leaning toward me.

“What about Jana?” I asked.

He didn’t hesitate. “I quit loving her a long time ago. Before I ever came to Lancaster County.”

I thought of him on his journey, his heart breaking . . . and then mending.

“Then going home made it absolutely clear. My Mamm was right—Jana and I weren’t good together. I truly forgave all of them then.”

Again, both relief and sadness filled me. I took a jagged breath. “What now?” I craned my neck around the trunk, meeting his eyes.

“What are you thinking?”

“Dat said he’d talk to the bishop about an annulment,” I blurted out.

Pete shifted back against the trunk. “Is that what you want?”

In the distance, Betsy called my name.

“I—”

She called out again.

“Oh, no!” How could I have lost track of time? “We need to get ready for supper!”

Now Betsy was shouting. “Cate! Where are you?”

“I’m coming,” I called back, slipping from the branch and dropping to the ground. “We’ll talk afterward,” I said to Pete, straightening my apron.

Leaves from the branch above him hid his face, but the tree shook a little.

“All right?”

“Jah,” he answered. “We’ll talk then.”

Torn, I hurried back to the house, running through the list
of what needed to be done. Heat the already-cooked pans of macaroni and cheese. Pull out the slices of cold ham. Arrange the veggies.

I would have rather stayed in the silver maple, but I needed to fulfill my obligation to Dat and our guests, and Betsy too. I’d have the evening meal under control in half an hour. Then I’d be done.

Pete didn’t show up to help or even to eat. I noted Dat was missing too. Perhaps my husband hadn’t retreated this time, as he had in the past, to escape me. Perhaps, instead, they’d gone to the bishop together.

By the time darkness began to fall, most of the guests had left, except for those closest to us. The women spilled out into the backyard while the men gathered in the kitchen.

Nan was telling us about a Plain woman she’d interviewed who had eighteen children, including four sets of identical twins, when Levi’s little brother Ben came bounding down the back steps.

“Levi wants you.” He pointed at Betsy. “He’s ready to leave.” They were spending their first night at the home of her in-laws.

“Well,” Betsy answered, her hands on her hips, “I’m not ready to go.”

Without responding, Levi’s brother turned and clomped back up the steps.

Some of the other women chuckled, but mortified, I stayed quiet. It seemed Betsy’s contriteness in the barn had all been show.

Nan finished her story, adding that the first set of twins was born full-term, nine months after the couple’s wedding day.

Addie elbowed Betsy. “That could be you!”

Betsy glowed—until the men inside erupted in laughter. Through the window the men slapped Levi on the back. A moment later, Ben started down the steps again.

“I said I wasn’t ready.” Betsy’s hands flew to her hips again.

Ben flashed an impish smile, and then his eyes found mine. “This message isn’t for you, Bitsy. It’s for Cate—from Pete.”

He’d come back.

A couple of the women giggled. My face grew warm. I looked toward Nan. She smiled at me gently.

I stepped forward. “Jah?”

“Pete wants to know if you’re ready to”—Ben’s volume increased—“go home.”

Home?
The word reverberated inside my head.

I looked toward the window. There was Pete, staring at me, most likely anxious to report what the bishop had said.

But he’d used the word
home.
That gave me a measure, although tiny, of hope.

My knees grew weak as I followed Ben up the steps and into the kitchen, aware of the women following along behind me. I wasn’t willing to think the worst, to even speculate, not when it could be my only chance. I held my head high and looked my husband in the eye.

“I’m ready.” I extended my hand. “Please take me home.”

His eyes warmed as he stepped toward me. Behind him Martin grinned, and a chorus of sweet murmurs went up from the women. In fact as I glanced around the room, most everyone was smiling—except Levi, who leaned against the counter under the light of the propane lamp staring at Betsy, who stood across the room.

Pete took my hand and pulled me along. As we passed our
new brother-in-law, Pete smiled and said, “God give you a good night.”

Several of the men chuckled at that. I turned and found Dat standing next to Nan. Neither of them seemed amused, but both had expressions of relief on their faces.

Out the door we marched and then down the steps in unison. It was as if we were floating, both of us together. But then Pete stopped abruptly in the backyard, dropping my hand and pointing toward the western sky. It was a vivid orange.

“It’s fiery again,” I said, thinking of the night of the singing when Pete scraped his chin and cut his hand.