The Farmer's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  “I don’t need it. I won’t be going to yer shop anymore. You’ll be able to work alone.”

  He sneered. “Do you think I’ll have any time for a stupid hobby after this? It’s going to take months to rebuild this place, and years to get it back to what it was.” He shook his head, defeat filling him. “Keep the key. Keep the tools. You’re better at using them than I am.”

  “Seth, that’s not true.”

  “Leave me be, Martha. I’ve got work to do.” He grabbed another cornstalk, this time hacking harder than he had before. Only when he finished cutting the stalk to ribbons did he stop to look at her.

  She was gone.

  Chapter 15

  Two weeks later, Martha carried two heavy tote bags into Ivy Schlabach’s antique shop. The little bell above the door rang as it opened, and she felt the cool air of the fans in the shop that stirred the air. She looked around for Ivy or her husband, Noah, who helped Ivy run the shop, but she didn’t see either one of them.

  The little store was filled with antiques, some of them with that musty old smell she didn’t really care for. But she saw some new items too. Books on antiquing and refinishing old furniture were displayed near an antique cash register. She set her tote bags on the floor and rang the bell on the counter.

  Since the Yoder fire, she hadn’t sought out Seth. The pain in his eyes when she tried to give him back the key had shaken her heart. She wanted to do something to help, but she hadn’t been sure what. Seth didn’t want her around, and she didn’t blame him. He and his family were consumed with trying to get back on their feet. The community had gathered for a barn raising last weekend, and her father had gone over there this week to help with repairs to the back of the house. It had sustained some smoke damage, but nothing structurally. When he returned later that night, Daed said the Yoders were in good spirits. But Martha couldn’t imagine that applied to Seth.

  She knew Seth had pushed her away for a reason besides rebuilding the farm. He didn’t trust her, and she had given him plenty of reason not to. She still didn’t know why he’d run from her house that night, but what did it matter now?

  Noah, a tall, lanky man who wore hearing aids, came from the back of the store. “Hi, Martha,” he said, moving behind the counter. “I almost didn’t hear the bell. We might have to get a louder one.” He smiled. “What can I help you with today?”

  “I thought maybe I could help you.” And Seth, too, although she was fairly sure he wouldn’t want her help. “Sometimes you sell new items, right?”

  “Depends on what it is.”

  She lifted one of the bags and put it on the counter. “Woodcarvings.” She pulled one out, and Noah examined it.

  “Nice,” he said. “Do you know who made it?”

  “I do. But this person prefers to remain anonymous.”

  “I see. Well, anonymity won’t stop me from selling an item. May I look at the rest?”

  She showed him all the woodcarvings, and he studied them. When he put the last one on the counter, he said, “I think we can make a deal of some sort. What are yer terms?”

  Martha smiled. Seth might not like what she was about to do, but she would deal with the fallout later. She was determined to help him, whether or not he liked it.

  * * *

  Cevilla picked up the old iron she’d heated on the stove. She touched the flat side of it with her finger. It was hot enough, and she applied it to the simple pale-blue fabric on her ironing board and smoothed down a seam. She couldn’t sew worth a hoot, but Delilah sure could. They were in the freshly painted living room at the Stolls’ new house, which had been finished earlier in the week. Levi and Loren had done an excellent job building the two-story house, and now they were focusing all their time and energy on the inn. Delilah manned the sewing machine while Cevilla ironed the seams. They were making curtains for the Yoders’ master bedroom, which was at the back of the house. where the fire had caused some smoke damage.

  “I appreciate you helping me,” Delilah said. “Work always goes faster with two extra hands.”

  Cevilla took the curtain panel to Delilah, relying on her cane to keep her balance. “That it does.” She went back to the ironing board to press another one.

  “So what’s going on with you and Richard?” Delilah said over the whirr of the sewing machine.

  “That’s a rather personal question.” Cevilla set down the iron on its flat end. “And quite out of the blue.”

  “We’ve been friends for a month now.” Delilah gave her that sharp look of hers. “You expect me to keep mei nose out of it for longer than that?”

  Cevilla chuckled. “I suppose not, especially when I would have asked you the same question long before now.” She picked up the iron again. “Richard and I are gut friends.”

  “Only friends?”

  “A little more than that,” she said, admitting the truth. “But as you can see, he’s still attached to his English ways.”

  “Is he going to join the church?” Delilah asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What if he doesn’t?” Delilah turned in her chair.

  Cevilla had thought about nothing else, of course, especially since he continued to muse on his decision without her input. That was his right, and it was a good thing he hadn’t talked about it for a long while, because she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t say something to sway him either way. Thus, she refused to worry about it. Worry wouldn’t change anything anyway. She needed patience in this situation, usually in short supply. She was sure this was God’s way of teaching her some, and she had been leaning on him more than ever. Although she could have done with an easier lesson. “I will have to accept whatever decision he makes.”

  “Do you love him?” Delilah asked softly.

  “Ya,” she said. “I do. I know he loves me too.”

  Delilah sighed. “You’re blessed to have that, Cevilla. Especially at this time of life.” She gave her a sad smile before starting to sew again.

  Cevilla knew how blessed she was, which made her feel guilty for wanting more. Having Richard in her life, in any way, should be more than enough. But sometimes, more times than not lately, it wasn’t.

  Nina entered the house, carrying a basket of laundry fresh off the line. It was September now, and Cevilla prayed every night that the rain would come with the cooler temperatures. The weather had thrown everyone for a loop this summer, not to mention what had happened to the poor Yoders. Now everyone was extra careful with anything that could start a fire.

  “I’ll put this away,” Nina said, “and then I’m going to the Yoders’. I promised Ira I’d help him with the horses. Now that the barn is finished, they’re ready to bring them back from Jalon’s.”

  “How is the familye?” Delilah asked. “I thought about stopping over there earlier this week, but I didn’t want to intrude.”

  Nina gave her a surprised look, then replied, “They’re making gut progress on restoring the land. I worry about Ira and his bruders, though.” She set the basket on the coffee table and started to fold dish towels. “They’re working day and night to recover what they’ve lost.”

  Cevilla wondered about Nina and Ira’s relationship. Delilah did, too, and they had discussed it several times, but both had vowed never to meddle again. Cevilla was still smarting from being wrong about Martha and Seth. The two of them actively avoided each other now. Fortunately, Richard hadn’t said a word about the situation, although a good dose of I told you so would have been warranted.

  “We should be finished with these curtains today.” Delilah stopped sewing and examined the panel. “Would you mind taking them over early next week?”

  “Of course not.” Nina set the last folded towel on the stack on the table, then picked up and started folding a white pillowcase.

  Cevilla watched her, noticing how different Nina was from when she first came to Birch Creek. She was still tomboyish, but there was a softness to her rough edges now. Did Ira have anything to do with that? C
evilla shut down that thought. She was finished interfering, and that included thinking about interfering.

  She and Delilah finished the curtains, and Richard came by later that afternoon to pick her up. When they got to her house, he held the car door open for her. “What’s for supper?” he asked.

  She turned and looked at him. “Meat loaf sandwiches. Ready for a gourmet meal?”

  “Ya.” Richard stilled. “In a minute.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head, and a line of tension formed around his mouth. “No, but I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything.”

  “I’m not saying that I’ve made a decision,” he said, “but will you teach me about the Amish faith? I want to know everything—the history, the rules, the doctrine. I want to learn about the faith you’ve dedicated your life to.”

  Cevilla’s heart soared, but she tempered her response. “Of course. I’m glad you asked me.”

  “I was just thinking it would be good to have all the facts,” he said, grabbing his cane out of the backseat. “Knowledge is important.”

  “Yes, it is.” The knowledge she would give him could drive him away from or draw him closer to the Amish. Whichever way he chose, she would love him.

  He shut the car door and grinned. “Now, how about that meat loaf sandwich?”

  * * *

  In mid-September, Martha picked up an envelope of money from Noah and Ivy. It was a good-sized sum and had surpassed her expectations. All the woodcarvings had sold. “Everyone is wondering who the artist is,” Noah had said after handing her the envelope. “I’m curious myself.”

  Martha simply smiled and thanked him. Then she took a taxi back to Birch Creek.

  Instead of going home, she went straight to Seth’s. They still weren’t talking to each other, and Martha’s heart ached every time she looked at him. Freemont and Mary seemed to have recovered from the tragedy faster than their sons, although Judah was starting to show signs of his outgoing personality again. Ira was still serious, and she knew he had been working hard on the farm and spending time with Nina. Martha had hoped she and Nina would be close friends, but she spent her free time with Ira, and she seemed to have overcome her homesickness.

  The single men in the community also seemed to have given up on her as any thoughts of dating and socializing had gone to the wayside after the fire. They’d been spending their free time helping the Yoders. That was exactly what she wanted, though—for her life to get back to normal, simple again, the way she’d hoped it would be.

  Yet she was more unhappy than she’d been before. And more lonely. She was glad Nina and Ira were friends and that she had stuck by his side through the whole ordeal, but that left her alone. She was being selfish, but she couldn’t help it.

  She’d thought about writing to Selah about it, but she’d have to leave so many things out of the explanation that she didn’t bother. She also barely thought about Paul now. Whatever she had felt for him paled in comparison to her feelings for Seth. Why she had let Paul’s anger and harsh words bother her so deeply, she had no idea. The pain he had inflicted on her was nothing compared to the ache in her heart for Seth.

  None of that stopped her from going to Seth’s house now, however. After she arrived at the Yoders’, she paid the taxi driver and got out of the car. The progress made in the two weeks since she’d last been here amazed her. Two brand-new barns stood near the dried-out pasture. Without the rain, the fields were blowing dust, but they were clear of burned crops and other debris.

  Then she saw him, standing in the far back of the pasture. Seth. Her palms grew damp, but she took a deep breath and went to him.

  He was bent over the stubbled grass, running his hand over the dry, cracked earth that had once been lush with swaying timothy grass. She couldn’t stop herself from watching him, his profile no less handsome to her covered in dirt and sweat than it was when he was dressed up for church. Finally, she cleared her throat.

  He turned and looked at her. “Hi,” he said dully, not getting up.

  “Hi.” She gripped the envelope in her hand. She had thrust it behind her back before walking over here. “How are you?”

  “Fine.” His voice was clipped.

  “I want to give you something.”

  “If it’s the key, forget it.” He stood and faced her, putting his hands on his narrow hips. “I told you to keep it.”

  “It’s not the key.” She brought out the envelope and handed it to him. “Here.”

  He opened it up and saw the thick stack of bills inside. “What’s this for?”

  “For you and yer familye. I know you’ll need it for more livestock and seed, and whatever else it can help with.”

  “This is a lot of money.” He held the envelope out to her. “I can’t take yer paycheck.”

  She didn’t accept it. “It’s not mei paycheck.”

  “Then where did you get the money?”

  She inhaled, steeling herself for his reaction. “I sold woodcarvings.”

  He stilled. “You did what?”

  “I sold all the woodcarvings. I wanted to help—”

  “I told you they weren’t for sale!” He looked up at the sky and then back at her, anger flashing in his eyes. “Don’t you listen to anyone? Or do you just do whatever you want to do and hope for the best, never thinking about how anyone else will feel?”

  “Seth, I—”

  “Here.” He thrust the envelope toward her. When she wouldn’t take it, he shoved it into her hand. “I don’t want the money. And I’ll take mei key back after all. It’s obvious I can’t trust you. I said mei woodcarvings weren’t for sale, but you ignored mei wishes, just like you ignored everything else.”

  Martha’s throat clogged. She’d expected to have to convince him to take the money. She hadn’t expected him to lash out at her like this. Even though she understood why, it didn’t hurt any less. “They weren’t yer carvings, Seth,” she choked out. “They were mine.”

  * * *

  Seth’s jaw dropped open. “What?”

  “I sold mei carvings.” Tears sprang to Martha’s eyes. “Yers are still back at the shop. I wouldn’t dare sell them without yer permission. I . . . I respect you too much for that.”

  He soaked in what she had said. She had sold her carvings and was giving him the money. Carvings she could have sold for her own benefit. She’d used his scrap wood and borrowed his tools, but she’d made enough money to pay him back for that several times over. He’d known she was good. Evidently other people had recognized it too. He was the biggest jerk on the planet. “Martha, I’m sorry.” As though that lame apology would make up for everything.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, because you’re right.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m not trustworthy. I’ve been deceptive and untruthful and have caused you a lot of problems, all because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and because I’m a coward.” She sniffed, but lifted her chin, making her look strong despite her tears. “This is mei way of making some of that up to you, because I owe you after everything I put you through. That, and because I . . .” She bit her bottom lip so hard he thought she might draw blood. Then she pulled a key out from the pocket of her apron. His key. “Here.”

  “Nee,” he said, shaking his head. “Keep it—”

  “Here!” She shoved it at him. He refused to accept it, so she dropped it on the ground in front of his dusty work boots. “I’ll leave you alone from now on, Seth. You don’t have to worry about me making a mess of yer life anymore.” She turned and started to leave, only to stop and look back at him. “You haven’t been able to trust me with much, but you can trust me with this. I will never tell yer secret. Ever.” Then she hurried away.

  He bent to the ground and picked up the key, folding it into his fist. He’d yelled at Martha, but he was being hypocritical about her dishonesty when he wasn’t being honest with her. He’d hurt her deeply. He’d seen it in her eyes. He felt it in his heart.<
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  “Was that Martha?” Daed said, coming out of the barn, wiping his hands on a rag.

  “Ya.” He shoved the envelope of money into his pocket, unsure what to do with it, not feeling right about taking it since it was really hers.

  “She didn’t stay long. Is she walking home?”

  Seth nodded, still watching as she disappeared around the front of his house.

  Daed frowned. “Is everything all right between you two?”

  “Ya.” Nee. There was nothing between them. It was all one-sided. He couldn’t say that to his father, so he changed the subject, swallowing his pain. “How are yer eyes?”

  “Been using the new drops every day. Medicine is an amazing thing, Seth. I can tell I’m seeing a little more clearly. He smiled, although it was a tired one. “The doc seemed confident I wouldn’t have to worry about mei eyesight for a long while, as long as I keep up with the six-month checkups.”

  “That’s great,” Seth said, but his voice sounded flat. He was happy for his father, but still tied up in knots over Martha.

  “That means we can slow down. We’ve all been working hard, and we’re all exhausted. Especially you, sohn.”

  “I’m fine.” He didn’t intend to slow down, not until he’d made up for what he’d let happen. He pushed past his father. “I told Ira and Judah I’d help them with the hay they brought back from the Beilers’—”

  “Seth,” Daed said. “We haven’t talked about the fire.”

  “There’s nix to talk about.”

  “There’s plenty to talk about.” He grabbed Seth’s elbow. Not hard, but enough to get his attention.

  Seth turned around. “I’m listening.”

  “I’ve already talked to Ira and Judah. Ira felt guilty about going fishing that day, but I reassured them both that I don’t blame either of them, especially Judah. He made a terrible mistake, but he’s learned from it. I shouldn’t have mentioned wanting to get rid of the pile in the first place. He was trying to help me out.”

  “I’m glad you talked to them. I’ve been worried about Judah.”

  “Me too. But he’ll be okay. He’s a strong bu. Like his bruders.” Daed put his hands on his waist. “But I’m not here to talk about them. You and I need to discuss a few things.”