by Beth Wiseman
Dedication
To Linda Crane
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
Glossary
About the Author
Acclaim for Beth Wiseman
Other Books by Beth Wiseman
Copyright
Chapter 1
Lydia closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep as Samuel entered their bedroom. Then she could feel him ease back the single white sheet on their bed before he extinguished the lantern on his nightstand and lay down. It was still hard for her to believe she was Mrs. Samuel Bontrager.
Her husband would be asleep within a few minutes, snoring lightly. He’d missed supper for the second night in a row. Lydia had left him a plate filled with glazed ham, roasted potatoes, and pinto beans on the stove—a few of his favorites. She tried to prepare a special supper on the nights he knew he’d work late. Employees at the furniture store were required to work overtime during inventory.
A gentle breeze floated on moonbeams through the screen of the opened window as she waited. Combined with the two battery-operated fans in the room, it made the August heat bearable at night.
After Samuel drifted off, Lydia gingerly lifted the sheet, dropped one leg slowly to the wood floor, and lifted herself from the bed. She tiptoed into the living room and felt her way around in the dark until she stepped over the threshold of their daughter’s room. A small nightlight, also operated by batteries, dimly illuminated the area, and two fans similar to the ones in her and Samuel’s bedroom cooled the space. She watched the baby’s chest rise and fall in peaceful slumber.
At seventeen, Lydia was not only married but raising a six-month-old. Mattie was the light of her life, but recently she’d begun to wail for what seemed like no reason. Lydia would pace with her, gently rocking her child in her arms, often for as long as an hour. By the end of the day, Lydia was exhausted, but sleep still didn’t come easily.
“You are the most beautiful person in the world,” Lydia whispered as she gently stroked Mattie’s head, combing back a cap of golden tresses, wondering if her daughter’s hair color would change over time. Her eye color had stayed the same so far, the royal blue Lydia imagined the deepest parts of the ocean would be. Set against her porcelain skin, Mattie’s eyes made her look like the china dolls Lydia had seen in Englisch stores—perfect in every way. Although in her tranquil sleep, she was a far cry from the red-faced, screaming child Lydia had tried to console earlier in the day.
Lydia kissed her finger and pressed it to Mattie’s forehead. Then she closed her eyes and prayed, asking the Lord to heal whatever was causing her daughter to have so many crying spells. She also asked Him to help her be a better mother. She must be doing something wrong for her baby to cry so much.
She stared at her little bundle and wondered if babies dreamed.
Lydia used to dream she would fall in love, then marry and have a big family. But she and Samuel had fallen in lust, made a baby, and then married. They knew nothing about being in love. Lydia was married to a good man, three years her senior, who’d fathered their child. But their attraction to each other had floundered following the hurried wedding their parents arranged—forced—in an effort to alleviate some of the shame they’d brought to their families.
It seemed to have worked. Everyone was in love with Mattie, her grandparents on both sides completely smitten. Over time, what Lydia and Samuel had done to make their marriage necessary had become less a burden for everyone.
Yet Lydia longed for the excitement of falling in love, for the dizzy feeling and passion she’d read about in books. She and Samuel had missed that entire phase, dating and falling in love. She would never experience those emotions. She was married to a kind man she’d known her entire life, but in a relationship with no romance. And she and Samuel hadn’t been intimate since the day Mattie was conceived.
They’d made a few awkward moves toward consummating their marriage, but Lydia had been in the throes of morning sickness. She’d also resented their forced wedding, and that sentiment had carried over to Samuel. Then when her belly began to expand, she’d felt unattractive. And after Mattie was born, her attention was solely on her daughter, and she was always exhausted.
Samuel finally stopped trying to rekindle a physical relationship, and they slipped into a kind of companionship, a relationship of convenience, even though they shared a bed.
But that wasn’t what Lydia believed marriage should be. They’d married only because they’d gone against God, exploring a territory reserved for married couples. Now they were raising a child together, but all they had in common was their love for Mattie.
Samuel adored their daughter. Lydia longed for him to feel that way about her—and vice versa.
* * *
Samuel came home to the farmhouse he and Lydia rented. He was grateful the Yoders’ rental property had become available at just the right time, a week before he and Lydia married. It wasn’t his dream house, and he hoped to own his own home someday, but it was close to the furniture store.
This was his third night in a row to work late. Hopefully, they would finish taking inventory tomorrow so he could be home at a normal hour. He missed seeing Mattie before she went to sleep. When he didn’t work late, he and Lydia both tucked her into bed—after small talk during supper and their evening devotions.
Time with Lydia was often strained and uncomfortable, though. Neither of them knew how to tame the huge elephant in the room—the fact that they still didn’t really know each other.
It was hard to love a woman when you didn’t know her. At least not the way a man should know his wife.
Once he’d settled his horse in the barn, he trudged up the front porch steps, then into the house, yawning. After he hung his hat on the rack and kicked off his shoes by the door, he lowered his suspenders. Then he lit the lantern on the hutch before picking it up and walking into the kitchen. He slowed his stride when he saw Lydia sitting at the kitchen table in the dark.
Usually by now, she was in bed pretending to be asleep while Samuel slipped into the shower. He slept lightly, but he felt the bed move each night when she got up. A wooden slat in the hallway also groaned right before she stepped into Mattie’s room. Most nights, he didn’t know when she came back to bed or how long she stayed in their daughter’s room, but every morning, she was up before he was, cooking breakfast.
“Wie bischt? Is everything okay? Is the boppli all right?” He ran his hand the length of his short beard as his pulse picked up. “Are you all right?”
“Ya, we’re both fine.”
His heart rate slowed, but Lydia sounded defeated. Samuel held the light closer to his wife’s face. “Have you been crying?” The whites of her eyes were red, and he could see dark circles under her eyes even in the dimly lit room.
“Mattie cried off and on, all day long, even more than she has been.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Pleading eyes sought comf
ort from him, which was unusual. Lydia never wept or showed much emotion in front of him. He knew Mattie had cried a lot lately—he’d seen it on the weekends—but Lydia rarely commented on it.
“Maybe she’s sick.” He set the lantern on the table and sat down across from her. He could smell his supper on a plate atop the stove, but even though his stomach rumbled, concern for his daughter dulled his appetite. He was also eager to comfort his wife. She didn’t give him that opportunity very often.
Lydia sighed as she blinked back tears. “I’ve taken her temperature, and it’s normal. She doesn’t seem to have a cough or cold, and she’s soiling her diaper in a normal manner.” She shrugged as she gazed at him from the other side of the table. His wife was as beautiful today as the day they’d made love in the barn. At least, they’d thought it was love. It had seemed the best way to justify their physical longing for each other.
“Should you take her to the doctor?” Samuel cut his eyes slightly to the left when a gust of warm wind blew through the open window, sending the aroma of his supper wafting up his nose.
Lydia stood, walked to the stove, and returned with the plate of food. She set it in front of him and then took a fork from the drawer and gave it to him. “What would I tell the doctor?” she asked as she sat down again. “That she cries a lot? A mudder should be able to figure out why her boppli is crying.”
His wife sounded fragile, and her vulnerability tugged at his heart. He kept his eyes on her as he forked a small chunk of ham, but he didn’t put it in his mouth. He wanted to say something to help her, but the words weren’t coming. He knew even less about raising babies than she did. He ate the bite of ham. “’Tis gut,” he said after he swallowed, then cringed at his failure to offer an inkling of solace.
“Danki.” She pushed back her chair and yawned. Samuel wasn’t sure if that was a genuine show of exhaustion or if she was just eager to avoid further conversation with him. Not that he blamed her. She’d opened up to him, and he hadn’t had anything constructive to say.
“Good night.” She slid her chair under the table and then started to leave the kitchen, her shoulders slouched as if she carried the weight of the world on them.
Samuel searched his mind for something to make her feel better. “Lydia?”
She slowly turned around. “Ya?”
“You’re a gut mudder.” He meant it. Miles of emotional distance stretched between him and Lydia, but she tended to Mattie’s every need and loved her as much as he did.
She offered a weak smile before she again turned to go.
Samuel did love Lydia, even though he’d never told her so. The emotion seemed to have grown when he wasn’t paying attention. Maybe I love you were the words he’d been searching for. He stood and took a few steps, but then his throat seemed to close. What if she doesn’t love me back?
* * *
Lydia rolled onto her side, ready to close her eyes when Samuel came out of the bathroom. She wasn’t even sure why. He hadn’t tried to be intimate with her since well before Mattie was born. But lately, she longed to be held—especially tonight when she was so worried about her baby. It had just been so long that she didn’t know what to do. And even if she initiated physical contact, what if he rejected her?
She positioned the sheet so she could see her husband out of one eye when he came in. He wouldn’t be able to see her face at this angle.
In only a towel, he entered the room and wound his way around the bed and out of view, but the glance was enough to remind her why she’d been attracted to him physically in the first place. He was tall, handsome, and perfectly proportioned with a broad chest and muscular arms. His smile was what had originally caught her eye, though—the way it crooked up on one side and gave him a mysterious aura. She tried to recall the last time she’d seen him smile. Maybe when he was with his parents. Before he’d grown a beard, the shadows on his face matched the dark hair on his head, which lent him a rugged, boyish look she found attractive.
But Samuel probably hadn’t had a chance to grow into the man he was meant to be emotionally. That’s how she felt about herself as a woman. And he, too, must feel like they’d been forced into a life they weren’t ready for.
She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes just as he was getting into bed, then she turned her head his way, letting him know she was awake. Catching sight of her opened eyes, he hesitated but eventually fluffed his pillow and lay down on his back.
Lydia waited, wondering if Samuel would reach for her, even if it were only to hold her in his arms. But when he extinguished the flame in the lantern and turned away from her, Lydia’s hope went as dark as their bedroom.
* * *
Samuel wanted to pull his wife into his arms and make love to her. It was a physical longing, but he also thought it might bring them closer emotionally. He’d tried one too many times when they were first married, though, and the rejection stung a little more each time. Yet Lydia was uncharacteristically ensuring he knew she was awake. Did she share his desire for a physical relationship?
Yawning, he decided not to chance another rejection. She would be up soon to check on Mattie. Every couple had a routine, and Samuel and Lydia had settled into theirs. Marrying before he was ready wasn’t his first choice, but he’d made his bed, and he had to sleep in it. He just wished he didn’t have to sleep in it alone.
* * *
The next morning, Samuel didn’t know when he’d dozed off, and if Lydia got up to check on Mattie, he hadn’t heard her. As he breathed in the aroma of bacon sizzling in the kitchen, he remembered he was supposed to ask his wife a question on behalf of a coworker.
Sometimes he only had enough time to grab toast, but that was because he stayed in bed to avoid talking with Lydia. Unless he heard Mattie up. He enjoyed her giggles and bright eyes in the mornings. But their baby slept through the night and often didn’t wake up until after Samuel had left for work.
Today he hurriedly dressed, cared for the horses—thankful Lydia cared for their chickens—and then went straight to the kitchen to allow enough time for conversation.
“Wie bischt,” Lydia said as he sat down at the table. She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. His wife didn’t drink coffee very much, but she always had a pot percolated for him as well as a packed meal for work. For a moment, he thought about how the furniture store was a good place for him. Samuel had worked for Lydia’s father, Henry, building furniture in his barn. Yet not only had his new father-in-law scowled at him a lot but that barn was where he and Lydia had committed their sin. Samuel didn’t want to be reminded of that. Besides, his job at the furniture store paid more, and he needed the money.
“Do you have time for eggs?” Lydia nodded toward the skillet in front of her, and when Samuel told her he did, she cracked open two eggs and slipped them into the bacon grease.
He waited a couple of minutes before making the request. He didn’t know if Lydia would see it as a good thing or a burden. “I need to ask you something,” he said. Then he drew in a deep breath when she looked over her shoulder and lifted an eyebrow. “Do you remember Joseph? He works with me at the store.”
Lydia slid the fried eggs onto a plate and then placed them in front of Samuel. They were runny, the way he liked them. “I remember. Joseph has worked there only a short time, ya?”
Samuel nodded. Joseph’s family had moved to Montgomery a few months ago. “He wants to be formally introduced to your friend, Beverly. She was with you when you brought me mei dinner last week.”
“Beverly Schrock?”
“Ya. I guess that’s her last name. He was wondering if maybe they could meet here for supper one night, but I know you’re tired a lot, and if you don’t want to do that, I—”
“Nee, nee. It’s fine, but I don’t really know Beverly. She’s more of an acquaintance, and she lives in Odon, in a different district. I’ve been around her only a couple of times. Once at a quilting party a long time ago, and she might have been at Levi and Mary�
�s wedding, but I’m not sure.” She paused. “Actually, she just needed to use the restroom that day we saw each other on the sidewalk. We exchanged pleasantries, and she followed me into the store. After I introduced her to you and Joseph, I pointed her to the restroom.”
“I guess you don’t know if she’s seeing anyone?” Samuel reached for another slice of toast. This was the most conversation he’d had with Lydia in a long while that wasn’t about Mattie.
“I saw her working at the bakery in Odon one time. I can go by there and find out if she’s interested in being introduced to Joseph, assuming she still works there.” Lydia poured the bacon grease into a jar before she lowered the skillet into some soapy dishwater.
“Are you sure it would be okay?” Samuel stood, the piece of toast still in his hand. He’d eaten both eggs. “I know it’s extra work for you.”
“Ya, I’m sure, if Beverly is agreeable. We haven’t had anyone to supper except our families. It might be fun.” She glanced at him and smiled.
Samuel pushed in his chair and walked to where Lydia was standing at the sink. She jumped when he touched her back, and then she turned to face him.
“I-I just want to tell you to have a gut day.” Then he leaned down to kiss her, something he never did. Maybe a small gesture of affection would remind her of the spark they’d once felt for each other. But when she offered him her cheek, he was reminded why he stopped trying to get close to her.
After a quick peck, he stepped into the living room, took his hat from the rack, and slipped into his shoes. He didn’t mean to slam the door behind him. Or maybe he did.
* * *
Lydia leaned back against the counter and squeezed her eyes closed. Why did I do that? Samuel had made an effort to kiss her, on the lips. And she’d turned away from him.
Mattie started to cry before she had time to further analyze what had happened. She grabbed the bottle she’d already warmed from the counter and went to her daughter’s room. Maybe Mattie missed breast milk. Lydia had to quit nursing when she stopped producing enough milk a couple of months ago.