Wonderful Lonesome (42 page)

“What news is that?” Willem used a sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“The Weavers should have stayed a few weeks longer. It’s a shame they will miss their daughter’s wedding.”

Willem cleared his throat, puzzled but determined to remain calm. “I had not heard the news.”

“That sneaky Rudy Stutzman!” Moses wagged his head. “I just came from there. Who would have known he was courting Abigail Weaver?”

Yes
, Willem thought.
Who would have known?

“We all knew she was spunky,” Moses said, “but I was shocked that Ananias would let her remain here once he decided to go.”

“I guess they worked it out.” Willem reached for the rake he had left leaning against the side of the barn.

“I suppose Ananias was determined to move before winter. Why else would they miss her wedding?”

Willem shrugged. Why indeed?

“I always thought it would be you,” Moses said. His face sobered. “But considering how her father feels about the salvation of anyone outside the Amish church, I suppose I should not be surprised. She could hardly marry you and set the two of you against each other.”

“I thought you had an open mind on that question, Moses.” Willem twirled the rake between his hands.

“I do. It’s Ananias who doesn’t.”

The knock, though not insistent, jolted Abbie out of a doze she had not meant to fall into. For a moment she listened for the footsteps of her mother or little brother on the way to answer the door. Standing up, she raised a hand to the back of her neck to rub the spot where it had gone stiff while she slept with her chin on her chest in an upright chair.

“Coming!” she called, unsure how long she had slept. It must be Rudy with the eggs and milk. She snatched her prayer
kapp
from the side table and put it on her head before she reached the door.

He stood there with downcast face and wounded pools of murky green where his eyes should have been.

“Willem.”

“I wish you had been the one to tell me, Abbie.”

Abbie stepped outside. “I’m sorry.” Her murmured statement was more than words.

“I would have understood.”

“Would you?” She challenged his gaze. “You wanted me to go to the Mennonites with you. You went even when you knew I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Would never.”

“Never is a long time, Abigail.”

She straightened her shoulders. “Don’t scold me. You have no right.”

“I gave that up.” Willem shifted his feet in the dirt. “I didn’t realize your growing affection for Rudy.”

“I did not realize it myself until recently. But I have found myself in the position of having to make several decisions I never expected to make, and I have no regrets.”

Willem stepped away from her. “I know what it will mean to you to be married in the Amish church. I wish you every happiness.”

“
Danki
.”

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and she watched him stride away from her and mount his horse. The moment had come to truly find release from his hold on her heart.

The sight of him made Abbie smile.

Rudy, not Willem. Rudy made her smile.

When she drove gently onto his land on Friday morning, he was on a ladder scrubbing the outside of the window at the front of the house. She had cleaned the inside of the glass more times than she could count in an effort to keep the dust blowing in from the plain from coating every inch of interior surface, but cleaning the outside was not part of her housekeeping duties, and Rudy had never raised a sponge. When she asked him about it once, he said he saw no gain from the chore. The wind would only blow dry soil against the panes before the day was over, and most of the hours he spent inside the house were after the sun was low enough in the sky that he had no reason to look out the windows. Yet here he was, scrubbing glass.

From the fourth rung, he dropped his sponge in the bucket at the foot of the ladder and grinned.

“Why, Rudy Stutzman, what has come over you?” Abbie let the reins go lax.

He climbed down and came to stand beside the buggy. “I won’t be a bachelor much longer. Figured it was time I learn to behave like a man who cares what pleases a woman.”

Sentiment filled her throat, making her words hoarse. “I would never ask you to change anything about yourself.”

“You didn’t. But a man can decide.” He offered her a hand to help her out of the buggy.

She reached under the bench. “I found a jar of cherries
Mamm
left behind and made a pie. It’s still warm.”

When he took it from her, he cradled her hands along with the pie plate. The tingle that started in her fingers and flowed up her arms startled her.

“I don’t think
Ordnung
forbids having pie in the middle of the morning.”

How had she never noticed the twinkle in his blue eyes before? Or the depth of the dimple that would be covered with a red beard once they were married?

“With
kaffi?
” she asked.

“If you like.” Rudy gestured toward the door. “Come and see what I’ve done inside. I will start the
kaffi
.”

“You’ve done something inside?” Abbie felt like a curious schoolgirl and spurted ahead of Rudy.

Behind her, he chuckled. She turned her head and smiled at him over her shoulder. Only five days ago her mother had urged her to recognize blessing when it came. Now she did.

Mailing a single letter seemed like a feeble excuse to go into Limon. It was possible Willem would find something of interest in the mercantile, but less likely that he would decide to part with cash for the purchase. Determination to come up with a credible down payment for additional acres magnified his sense of stewardship. Every dollar mattered.

And so did the letter. It might be his best hope. When he left Ohio, Willem’s father gave him the value of his share of the family farm. They both knew the money would go further in Colorado than Pennsylvania. Willem never asked for another penny—until now. He proposed a business arrangement—a loan, not a gift. He would even include his father on the title of the new land if that was what would satisfy either the senior Peters or the bank officer. And since he did not know when a specific need would draw him to Limon again, Willem chose to make the trip just to mail a letter.

Outside the post office, he tied his horse to a hitch and fingered the envelope. The laboriously crafted words ran through his mind. It took him three drafts before he felt secure that he did not sound alarming or in need. The matter was one of timing and opportunity.

“Hello, Willem.” Jake approached. “What brings you into town?”

Willem tapped the letter against an open palm. “A letter home.”

“I’m sure your folks will be glad to hear from you.”

Willem nodded and glanced at the post office.

“Something wrong, Willem?”

“Wrong? No. Why do you ask?”

“You seem distracted. Do you have regrets about attending the service last Sunday?”

“Of course not. I was grateful to be included.”

“I heard about Abbie and Rudy,” Jake said softly.

“I knew how she felt about your church.”

“Still.”

Willem scratched one ear. “I’d better mail my letter. Then I’m going to ask around about odd jobs. Maybe somebody needs help getting ready for the winter.”

Jake brightened. “The Melton Wood ranch does. I just heard this morning that they lost one of their ranch hands.”

Willem shook his head. “Abbie is working for them.”

“I know. But you’d be out on the ranch, not in the house. It couldn’t hurt to inquire.”

“I can paint,” Rudy said. “Fresh white walls. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You don’t have to do that, Rudy.” Abbie scraped up the last bit of pie from her plate.

“But you would like it, wouldn’t you?” Rudy watched her face for the slightest light of pleasure.

She broke down and smiled. “Yes, I suppose I would.”

“Then I’ll do it. Next time I go into town I’ll order the paint.”

“You don’t have to do all this, Rudy.” Abbie reached across the table and took his hand. “We agreed we would get married without a lot of fuss. A simple start.”

Rudy downed the last of the coffee in his cup. “And we will. I don’t see how a clean coat of paint will complicate anything.”

He did not tell her that he had started a list of what he wanted to do to make his house, which could barely be construed as a cabin, into a home. He would have to do something about the sagging, creaking bed, for instance, but it would be unseemly to speak of that. And she deserved to have matching shelves on the kitchen wall spacious enough to hold more than a dented stockpot and the one iron skillet he owned. The sale of a cow or two would provide some cash for immediate needs and perhaps allow him to hire someone to make drawings for expanding the cabin. He should have spoken up sooner. He should have risked telling her how he felt or asked her how matters stood between her and Willem. Now he would never know if she might have accepted him without first finding herself in the confusing circumstances of her parents’ abandonment of the settlement.

But he had not. And it did not matter, because he would do his best to make sure that Abbie never found reason to regret her decision to marry him. She might not love him the same way she loved Willem—or at least had loved Willem—but the blessing of her affection in any form was more than he deserved.

He wondered what his own face would look like once a full grown beard covered it to indicate his married status. A year from now there could be a baby on the way. Rudy hoped all their children would have Abbie’s gentle features.

The only thing missing was a church to raise their children in. The Chupps. Eber and Ruthanna. The Weavers. All gone from the community’s midst. Willem was as good as gone to the Mennonites. Rudy and Abbie would have to lean on the Lord to see them through the years without church. Even as Rudy told himself that God was faithful and gracious in His will, he yearned to sit on a bench in a room full of men and women who shared his desire for worship.