“What did he tell you?” Sadie pressed. “Exactly.”
“He said that he’d made a mistake with me,” Mary said, her lips trembling. “He said he loved me more like a sister, and he’d never really loved me like a wife, and that he now knew that. He wanted to save us both the misery of an unhappy marriage, and he said that he couldn’t go through with it.”
“Have you told your parents?” Sadie asked.
“No . . .” Mary shook her head and leaned back against the seat. “Not yet. I don’t know . . . if he changes his mind back again, and he still wants to marry me, then I won’t have to tell them, ever. Right?” She looked over at Sadie pleadingly. “Because they’d never forgive him for this.”
“I’m not sure that I will, either,” Sadie said grimly.
“Just help me figure this out!” Mary pleaded. “I know he loves me. I don’t understand what happened, but he does love me. If you knew how he kissed me and held me . . .”
Rosmanda had a similar story to tell, but another realization put a rock into Sadie’s gut. Rosmanda hadn’t had her Rumspringa yet. She wasn’t old enough to court, so if Jonathan had dumped Mary for Rosmanda, it certainly wasn’t to do things the Amish way. Was he going to try to make Rosie run off with him?
“What do you want me to do?” Sadie asked.
“I don’t even know.” Mary sighed. “He’ll have to come talk to your father, Sadie. Maybe you could speak with him. See what happened. Because I don’t understand how he could change like this—it makes no sense.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for him,” Sadie agreed. “Oh, Mary. I’m so sorry he did this to you. At least it was before the wedding. After would have been worse.”
Mary’s gaze shifted to the side, and she licked her lips. “Yes, much worse.”
But something in her tone suggested that Mary didn’t agree with that. And Sadie couldn’t blame her. She’d gone from planning her wedding to sobbing her heart out. And she deserved much better treatment than this.
Mary could be sure that Sadie would be watching for Jonathan Yoder’s arrival, because he wouldn’t be getting a moment alone with her sister if she could help it. If he was going to run away from his promises and responsibilities, he wouldn’t be doing it with Rosie.
They talked together for a few more minutes, and then Mary wiped her eyes with her apron.
“Mamm needs me for the laundry. I have to go back . . .”
“Give it a day or so,” Sadie said. “Maybe time will change his mind back again.”
Mary nodded. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”
When Mary left, Sadie headed for the garden, and Rosmanda pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dirt from her hands and tossing the last weed into the bucket at her feet. She looked anxiously toward Mary’s receding buggy, then back to Sadie.
“What did Mary want?” Rosie asked hesitantly. She bent and brushed the dirt from her knees.
“You don’t know?” Sadie demanded.
Rosmanda shook her head. “No. Of course not. What’s happened?”
“Jonathan dumped her.”
Pink shaded Rosmanda’s cheeks, and she clasped her hands in front of her. “He’s done it, then?”
“So you knew he was going to?” Sadie demanded. How long had this misery been plotted?
“No . . . maybe. He’s been promising to do it for weeks now. I was starting to worry he wouldn’t.” Rosmanda licked her lips. “I told you he loved me, Sadie. I told you!”
Sadie rubbed her hands over her face, her stomach sinking. “Rosie, you know you can’t marry anyone yet.”
“I know.” Rosie nodded.
“If Jonathan comes to talk to you, you’d better have someone with you, or it will look like you were—” Sadie shrugged weakly. “It will be obvious what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Sadie met her sister’s gaze in silence, and the color in Rosmanda’s cheeks deepened.
“I’m not ashamed,” Rosmanda said archly.
“Maybe you should be.”
Rosmanda didn’t answer, and she walked away, then knelt back down to continue her weeding. Sadie watched her sister for a moment, her heart heavy. Rosie was old enough to know better than to cheat with a man who was officially dating another girl. She’d been raised better than her actions suggested, and now that Jonathan seemed to be making his choice, Sadie couldn’t help but pity her sister.
One of two things would happen: Either Jonathan would get bored of waiting for Rosmanda and break her heart just as he had done to Mary, or he would be willing to wait and marry Rosmanda—and Rosie would have a husband capable of utterly deceiving a woman. As far as Sadie could see, no good could come out of this.
What was happening to this family? Heartbreak and poor choices seemed to follow at their heels lately. Even Sadie, who had done everything the Amish way, had ended up married to a man who hadn’t been able to love her, try as he might. For all of her virtue, she might find herself in another marriage, equally disastrous.
The Grabers were supposed to be better than this, but more than that, the Amish principles were supposed to protect them better than this.
Where had they gone wrong?
* * *
Elijah put his pitchfork back into the corner where it was kept and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Dust motes danced in a square of sunlight that slanted in through the window, and he heaved a deep sigh.
He was done with his work for the time being. In a little while, he’d go check the feeders in the field, but right now, he’d earned himself a break that he wasn’t even sure he wanted. Work helped him to focus his conflicting feelings so that he didn’t have to think about them. Sweat was a great purifier.
He’d been trying not to think about Sadie all day today, but every time he stopped lifting or throwing or shoveling, she’d come creeping back into his mind.
At lunch time, Elijah had eaten quickly and excused himself to go back out to work before anyone else was done eating. A pall hung over the home, and Elijah knew he couldn’t help them. Even shunning wouldn’t fix this. Absolom was a grown man who’d made his choice—at this point, shunning was for the bishop, not for Absolom.
The very thought made his neck prickle, and he knew just how much this would hurt his friend . . . and Sadie. She was heartbroken, too, and that was part of the reason he couldn’t banish her from his thoughts. He’d seen those tears—felt them soak into his shirt. If they’d stayed away from the city, maybe things could have continued as they were without any lines drawn by the bishop. But then, Sadie wouldn’t have seen her brother, either, and while isolation might benefit the community, it didn’t benefit her.
Except he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Sadie’s internal workings—he was supposed to be focusing on his own future. If he could help his father get his business streamlined again, he’d be free.
And he had a few ideas to help his daet, but it would take his father changing his way of doing things . . . taking a few notes from the Englishers and moving away from the physical labor toward the planning end of the business—being a consultant of sorts. His daet wouldn’t like that one bit, even if it would save the business.
Elijah pulled off his gloves and tossed them over a rail, then did the same with his hat. He used his handkerchief to wipe his face and neck, and just then the barn door handle jiggled, then the door creaked opened. Elijah turned to see a familiar shape backlit by the sunny outdoors. The very one he couldn’t banish from his thoughts. It was just as well. Sadie stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind her, and he watched her blink a few times as her eyes adjusted.
“Hi,” Elijah said.
Sadie startled and she squinted as she spotted him. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I just finished up.” He put his hat back on—it was only appropriate. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” Sadie walked briskly into the barn, scanning the stalls. “Where are the goats?”<
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“In the back stall—over by the back door.”
Sadie headed in that direction, and as she passed him, he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Before he could think better of it, he grabbed her arm and she skidded to a stop. He tugged her more gently toward him.
“Elijah—” She shook her head in annoyance. “Stop. Yesterday was strange and emotional, and . . . there’s no point in any of this!”
“Any of what?” he demanded.
“Whatever we’re doing!” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “You’re not staying. Even if you were, I need a different kind of husband.”
“Yah, I know.”
“So we need to stop yielding to temptation,” she said, pulling her arm from his grasp.
“Are you calling me tempting?” He shot her a teasing grin.
“I’m not here for you,” she said curtly. “So if you have other work, I won’t keep you. I’m busy.”
She was trying to pry open that gap between them again, and he huffed out a sigh. There was no undoing any of it, and while he’d promised not to tell anyone else about that trip to the city, he wasn’t going to live a lie with her.
“Aren’t we all,” he quipped. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m checking on the goats. Daet was worried about the kid.”
“They’re fine. I’ve been watching them all day, and the kid is suckling well.”
Sadie looked toward the back stall again, then sighed. “Good.”
“Now, what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing I can talk about.”
Of course. The Grabers had their secrets—some of which he was privy to, and others they would protect with rare ferocity. But he was tired of this—the secrets, the pressure, the demands.
“Your father told me about the shunning,” he said. “If that helps.”
Sadie sighed. “The elders should arrive this evening for a vote.”
“Any chance they’ll vote against your father’s wishes?” Elijah asked.
Sadie’s answer was in the sadness welling in her eyes. “We should never have gone to see him, Elijah.”
“No!” Elijah shook his head. If she’d only folded herself into a small enough shape? If she’d only pushed her emotions down a little further? If he’d sealed his lips and never said a word to her about her brother, or their life in the city . . . “Sadie, listen to me. You wanted to see your brother because you missed him. You all miss him! He’s more solidly in your thoughts now than he ever was when he was here! Your father doesn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, he does. He can’t appear to be more lenient with his own son than he is with any other person in this community.”
Elijah felt that old frustration rising. “He can choose mercy over punishment. He’s the bishop—he has that power, you know!”
“My father is a good man,” she snapped.
“Your father is an ambitious man.”
Sadie spun around and stalked toward the back of the barn. Elijah watched her go, his frustration solidifying into anger.
“Where are you going?” he called after her.
“I’m checking the goats!” she snapped.
“I told you they’re fine!”
“Take a hint, Elijah!” she said, casting him an angry look over her shoulder. “I’m doing my duty, and then I’m leaving. A whole lot like you.”
Sadie stopped at the far stall and stood with her back to him. Her spine was ramrod straight, and he couldn’t tell what she was feeling. But if she was mad, she had no right to aim that at him—not this time. But give him a few minutes, and maybe he’d give her reason. He was tired of playing a part around here.
“Your father’s wrong,” Elijah said, striding back to meet her.
Sadie turned, her eyes ablaze. “Is he? Because this community needs discipline as well as mercy. You can’t just let people gallivant about doing whatever they please. Our community—our distinctiveness—would be gone in a generation!”
“People aren’t so bad as you think,” he shot back. “If they value the Amish life—”
“My sister has been fooling around with a boy who is publicly dating someone else!” Sadie burst out, her voice almost a shout. Tears welled up in her eyes. “My little sister! And while I blame her, she’s only sixteen. She’s not old enough for any of this, but the boy sure is, so I’m holding him just a little bit more accountable. He knows better! He’s already promised to marry another girl!”
Elijah stared at her in silence, trying to absorb what she’d just said. Rosmanda had a boyfriend? His mind stuttered, trying to catch up.
“So what about that?” she snapped. “Do you think we should just be merciful and let them do whatever they please?”
“Who’s the boy?” he asked at last.
She sighed. “It’s Jonathan Yoder.” He could hear the bitterness on her tongue. “Mary Beiler just came to see me, and Jonathan has dumped her. Their banns were to be published next week.”
“And he wants to marry Rosmanda . . .” Elijah was still trying to make sense of this. What had just happened here?
“I have no idea! Rosmanda seems to think so, but I have two girls telling me that they know for a fact that Jonathan loves them because of the way he holds them close! What is that? It’s nothing! A few kisses and snuggles don’t create a future together—they don’t prove a man’s character!”
Elijah swallowed hard. Was she talking about her sister’s situation alone? Because he and Sadie had shared some kisses, too.
“Love matters, Sadie,” he said quietly.
“And what’s love in this situation? We have a young man in our community who is playing with the hearts of two girls!”
Elijah shook his head. “Fine. There are times when a little harshness is necessary.” What was Jonathan Yoder playing at? He found it distasteful, too. “But, Sadie—”
“As for Rosie,” Sadie went on, not even slowing. “She’s a little idiot! She knows he loves her by a kiss? I’ve been married—and I know for a fact that a kiss means nothing!”
“Sadie!” He raised his voice.
“What?” She wiped a tear from her cheek with an angry swipe.
“A kiss means nothing?” he demanded.
“And I stand by it,” she retorted.
Elijah caught her by one wrist and pulled her into his arms. Her eyes widened in surprise, her anger slipping as he pulled her hard against him. Without pausing to breathe a word, he slid his hand behind her neck and lowered his lips onto hers. He didn’t know why he was doing this—he’d likely regret it deeply within a matter of minutes—but right now, the only thing he wanted was to prove to her that a kiss could matter . . . because every single time he’d kissed her, it had meant something. It might not have had a future, but it meant something.
Sadie was stiff in his arms at first, and then she slowly relaxed, melting against him in soft heat, and he felt the soft pressure of her fingers on his biceps. Her lips were warm, and as his mouth moved over hers, he felt her sigh softly. He wanted more than this kiss—he wanted to be as close to her as a man could be, but that would never happen between them. Ever. He pulled back, breathing hard, then rested his forehead against hers.
“Oh . . .” she murmured, her chest rising and falling with her quickened breath.
“Is my point made?” he whispered huskily.
“I don’t think—”
He lowered his lips onto hers again, this time tenderly, sweetly, and he wrapped his arms around her, nestling her into his body. She followed his nudges to pull her closer, and when she let out a little shuddering sigh, he felt the urge to do things that only a husband had a right to do. He was playing with fire, and he knew it. His body was responding to her more ardently than even in their youth. If he didn’t stop now—
Elijah pulled back and said gruffly, “That’s the kind of kiss that matters.”
Sadie’s eyes blinked open, and color crept into her cheeks.
“Elijah, we can’t—” She pulle
d away, and he let her go. “Why did you do that?”
“You said a kiss means nothing,” he said. “And that’s not true.”
She sucked in a breath and eyed him distrustfully. “She’s too young—”
“I’m not talking about Jonathan Yoder,” he said, rolling his eyes. Could she be more daft? He pinned her to the spot with one hot glance. “I’m talking about you. You said you’d been married, and so you know full well that a kiss like that means nothing. And I’m telling you that it does.”
“And what does it mean?” she snapped. “Because you’re not staying—”
“Shut up for a minute and listen to me,” he barked back, cutting off her words. “The right kiss means that there is something between the two of you—chemistry, the Englishers call it. It means the man feels something for you on an emotional and a physical level. A man can love his sister, but a kiss like that”—he let a slow smile turn up one corner of his mouth—“a kiss like that shows that he doesn’t see you as a sister at all. You’re right—his ability to fire up your blood says nothing about his character, but if a man can’t kiss you breathless, then you have no business marrying him to begin with. No matter how good he is.”
Elijah’s breath was still calming after that kiss, and he glared down at her, daring her to argue with him. He wanted an excuse to close that distance between them again, if she needed more proof of the point.
“You just kissed me. And we both know there’s no future between us. So what did that mean?”
“Like I said,” he said gruffly. “It doesn’t mean I’m good for you. I think we both know I’m not. But I sure don’t see you as a sister.”
And he held her gaze, enjoying the blush that crept into her cheeks.
“I have to go,” Sadie said, swallowing hard.
Elijah didn’t move an inch as she slid past him and headed for the far door. And when she got there, she looked once over her shoulder.
“Sadie,” he said, and she froze with her hand on the clasp. “I mean it. I know you’ll have to get married sooner rather than later, but don’t marry a man who can’t kiss you like I just did.”
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