by Sarah Price
“John said you were very close to the Andersons and that they had taken you under their care.”
Catherine gasped. Why on earth would John Troyer have made such a statement? “I was only under their care while in Banthe!”
Henry pursed his lips. “There’s more, Catherine. John said he intended to marry you so that he could inherit everything that the Andersons have.” He leveled his gaze at her. Henry had told her about his father’s feelings in regard to his sons and daughter marrying well. And now Catherine realized what had truly happened.
“Your daed … he thought you’d marry me and acquire the Andersons’ farm? The ones from Farmington?”
Henry nodded his head. “Daed’s sole focus in life is to acquire more land. He claims it’s for the good of the community, that with his extra wealth he’s just making sure to preserve the land for Amish families to farm, but I fear that he has just found a way to rationalize his own greed.”
Was that why Gid had invited her to visit? Had he hoped that Henry would court her, and that through their marriage Gid would gain more land? Clearly, when Gid realized that he had the wrong information, starting with the wrong Andersons, he had no further use for her and, therefore, sent her away in the middle of the night.
“The only reason,” Henry said gently, “that you were banished from Newbury Acres was not for what you did, Catherine, but for what you were not.”
“Wealthy.” She whispered the word and stared down at the quilt.
“Exactly.” Henry took a deep breath. “I want you to know that I knew nothing about his decision to turn you out of the house. When I returned and learned of the situation, I told my daed that his actions were unforgivable!”
Catherine bit her lip.
Suddenly, Henry stood up and began pacing, his hands behind his back as he continued talking. “The entire situation made me realize that, in many ways, there was truth to the suspicions that led you into that forbidden side of the house.” His eyes shifted toward her, but when she met his gaze, he looked away nervously. “It’s true, Catherine, that my daed did not treat our maem like a husband should treat a wife. And while the mystery you sought through that locked door is no more than a man who cherishes property over love, there will always be a mystery as to why she consented to marry him in the first place.”
“Henry, you don’t have to explain …”
He interrupted her. “I do, Catherine. I do have to explain. Perhaps that was why I was so surprised when I saw you standing in that room. You knew something that all of us have denied. What you thought was anger was nothing more than my own inner turmoil. I realized that our maem did not have the loving husband she deserved. Realizing this made me see that I never wanted to be like my father.” He stopped pacing and stood tall, staring into the distance. “And when I returned from the other farm and found that you had been banished, just tossed from the house as part of my daed’s ongoing quest for …” He paused and caught his breath. “For whatever it is he seeks … well, Catherine …” He turned to look at her as she sat on the quilt, watching him with intense attention.
“Oh, bother!” he mumbled to himself and hurried over to kneel beside her. “Catherine, I came here today to check on your welfare. That is true. But I came to tell you that I’ve stood up to my daed. I told him that what he did to you was unacceptable, and I do not intend to choose my marriage partner based on his selfish desires for land and money. What I want is to fulfill God’s plan for a true, loving marriage with a friend and partner.”
When he paused, Catherine swallowed. She felt as if she were imagining his words, perhaps misinterpreting them. She had never thought she’d see him again and now, here he was, kneeling before her, his hands fumbling with his hat and struggling to speak.
“What are you saying, Henry?” she asked in a soft whisper.
“Catherine, I believe that friend and partner is you.”
“Oh!”
He dropped the hat and took ahold of her hands. Cautiously, he leaned toward her. Her eyes widened and she stared into his face as he gave her a nervous smile.
“Catherine Miller, I’m asking you to be my wife. I don’t know where we will reside, whether in Newbury Acres, Woods farm, or somewhere else. But if you can see fit to honor me with your affection, I promise you that, even if my father disowns me for my decision, I want to be with you, and I will work hard to cherish and care for you and all of our children.” He clutched her hands, pulling them gently toward his chest so that she was forced to kneel with him. “Catherine Miller, will you marry me?”
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she nodded her head. “Oh, Henry! I … I …” She laughed and pulled one of her hands free to cover her mouth. “Yes! Yes, I will marry you!”
He reached out for her and pulled her into his arms, her cheek damp with tears of joy pressed against his shoulder. “I was so afraid that I had lost you,” he said. “My dear Catherine. I never want to feel that way again. I never want to feel lost or have you far from my side.”
“And I you.”
He pulled back and placed his hands on her cheeks. His eyes searched her face, brightening as he did so. Then, he leaned forward to gently, if not a bit hesitantly, brush his lips against hers. “I love you, Catherine Miller,” he whispered. “Of that you will never have to doubt!”
She laughed through her tears.
Reaching out his hand, he used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “May these be the only tears you ever shed during our lifetime together. I want only to bring you joy and happiness.” Slowly, he lowered his head and once again brushed his lips gently against hers. “You will live your romance novel, my Catherine. I promise you that.”
Epilogue
Catherine stood at the kitchen sink, monitoring the temperature of the curds. She didn’t hear the door open and Henry’s soft footsteps as he tiptoed across the floor, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. He waited until he was almost directly behind her before he slid his hand around her, the flowers magically appearing before her.
She jumped, her hand dropping the thermometer. But as soon as she realized it was Henry and the flowers were a surprise gift, she reached out for them and turned around, her expanding waist gently brushing against his stomach. “What beautiful flowers!” she said as she buried her nose into them. “Where did you get them?”
“The back field near the wood line.” He let his hands fall onto her arms, gently holding her. “The first of many more this spring, I imagine.”
Lifting her eyes to peer at him over the flowers, she saw the smile on his face. “Why are you smiling like that?” she asked suspiciously.
“I just enjoy walking through that door and seeing you here, working in the same kitchen my maem grow up in.”
Catherine tried not to smile at his joy. Ever since they’d moved to Woods farm, shortly after their wedding in October when Gid finally relented to sign it over to his son, not one day had gone by that he had not tried to fulfill his promise. Her life was exactly like one of those romance novels that she used to read. Every day he would greet her with kisses and help her whenever she needed him. She often went to the barn to help him with the afternoon milking so that they could spend more time together. And every time he went to town to purchase something, he always came back with a new book for her to read.
“Well, I reckon that’s a good sign,” she teased. “To enjoy walking through the door and seeing your wife. I’d be sorely disappointed if you did not enjoy doing that.”
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her forehead. As he did so, he let his hand drift to her stomach. “How is he?”
“She’s fine,” Catherine replied quickly.
Henry raised an eyebrow and gave her a playful scowl. Releasing her from his hold, he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of chilled water. Without being asked, she handed him a clean glass from the drying rack.
“Are you ready for tonight?”
She looked around the kitchen. Eve
rything was clean and orderly. The table was set for four, and she already had the Scrabble board on the top of the bookshelf. “Ja, I believe so. It’ll be nice to spend a leisurely evening with Ellie and James.”
“We haven’t seen much of them since our wedding,” Henry admitted.
Catherine found herself leaning against the counter, a wistful gaze on her face. “Who would have thought,” she wondered out loud, “that everything would have turned out so perfect?”
At their wedding in October, Catherine and Henry had paired up Ellie and James at the dining table. Little did they realize that sparks would fly. Her calm maturity attracted him, and his ambitious and hard-working nature attracted her. By the time February rolled around, it was clear that James and Ellie were courting. Catherine suspected that they would announce their intentions to marry in the spring. The irony was not lost on Catherine that James would end up living in the very farm and with the very family that Ida Mae had hoped to marry into.
With two of his three children apparently settled down, Gid seemed to release a little more control over them, especially since Ellie was courting a man who appeared willing and able to take over the farm. That even made him accept Catherine with more open arms, although she still felt uncomfortable in his presence.
As far as Freddie was concerned, she rarely saw him. But she had learned to forgive him all of his past transgressions. After all, he had saved James from an ill-suited marriage, which had enabled him to find love with Ellie. It had turned out for the best. Just as Catherine had said to her brother, God had healed his broken heart and bound his wounds by showing him a far better woman to cherish.
Henry walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting comfortably upon her stomach. “It is perfect, isn’t it?”
She leaned her head back and shut her eyes, a smile still playing on her lips. “As perfect as anyone could have written. In fact, our story could be a great romance,” she said softly, “if only someone would write it.”
“And who would read such a story?” he teased.
“Everyone!”
He gave her a gentle hug. “I like the idea of keeping it to ourselves. Our own little romance novel.” He kissed the top of her head but made no move to separate from her. Catherine didn’t mind. She was in no hurry to return to her chores, preferring to spend as much time in the arms of the only man she would ever consider to be her hero: her husband.
She did not have to write this romance novel. She was living it.
Return to Newbury Acres
Why should television viewers have all the fun?
Beginning in June 2017, I’ll be released an entire “season” of ten-twelve episodes, each one publishing via Amazon in eBook form on Tuesdays at 12:01am. A print copy will be available at the end of the season.
The first season will follow what happens after Catherine and Henry get engaged up to their wedding. Readers can also follow Ellie and James’ courtship, watching as it develops. And what happened to Ida Mae, John, and Freddie? Just like a television series, readers will follow the Tilman family every week.
To learn about preorders, be certain to follow me on my blog at http://www.sarahpriceauthor.com/journal and subscribe for my emails for more information. Or follow me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/fansofsarahprice.