“You look beautiful,” Chester said when she climbed into the buggy.
“Danki.” She handed him the vest and pants. “They’re not wrapped, but I couldn’t wait to give them to you.” She grinned. “I hope they fit.” She’d asked Abe about sizes, so hopefully he’d given her the right measurements.
Chester ran his hand gingerly over the vest, then the pants. “I’m sure they’ll fit perfectly,” he said, but just like this morning, she sensed something was wrong. He clicked his tongue, and they started toward the Petersheims’.
When they arrived at the singing a few minutes later, Chester leaned down and kissed her as soon as they were out of the buggy. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She gazed into his eyes. “Chester, is everything okay?”
“Ya. Why?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You just seem . . . like . . .” She reminded herself not to fret. “Never mind. Let’s go into the haus. Looks like lots of folks are here.” She squeezed his hand as they made their way up to the front porch. “Our last Sunday singing before we’re married.”
Chester smiled, but Priscilla’s stomach was beginning to churn.
I trust God’s will. I will not worry . . .
CHESTER STAYED BY PRISCILLA’S SIDE, SMILING WHEN IT was required amidst the talk of their upcoming wedding, but for the most part he kept quiet. How was he going to tell Priscilla that her special day was not going to happen? At least not this Tuesday. He took a deep breath as he listened to his fiancée describe the cake her sister was planning to make the following day.
“Ach, Rose. Wait until you see it. Naomi makes such beautiful cakes.” Priscilla’s smile was radiant, and Chester didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so happy. Rose didn’t look quite as happy as she scratched her arms continuously. He’d heard about her run-in with some poison ivy.
There was a plentiful spread of food on the table in the Petersheims’ kitchen. Under different circumstances, Chester wouldn’t have been able to stay away from the many snack trays and desserts, but his stomach churned with anticipation. And dread.
About an hour into the singing, he couldn’t take all the wedding talk anymore.
“Priscilla, I need to talk to you.” He gently coaxed her away from Rose and whispered, “Privately.”
Her face registered the appropriate amount of concern. If she only knew.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can we please go? I really need to talk to you.” He edged through the crowd in the kitchen.
“Chester, you’re scaring me.” Priscilla blinked her eyes several times.
Please don’t start crying.
He brushed past Lena Petersheim and gave her a quick thank-you for hosting the singing.
“See you on Tuesday,” she responded with a wink.
Chester hurried out the door and down the porch steps toward his buggy. He could hear Priscilla calling behind him. Once he got to his buggy, he opened the passenger door for her to get in. Even in the moonlight, he could see her beautiful blue eyes filling with tears. I’m so sorry, Priscilla.
“Chester?” Her eyes were wide and glassy as she stared up at him. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
He gently grasped her shoulders. “Everything is going to be fine, Priscilla. Here, just get in, warm yourself with the heater, and we’ll go talk.”
She sniffled a bit, but climbed inside the buggy. He waited until they were on the road before he said anything.
“I’m going to pull over up here off the main road.”
Priscilla was quiet as he edged off of Blacksmith Road and onto an unmarked dirt road that he knew was a dead end. An almost full moon lit the area around them, and he twisted in his seat to face her. He reached for her trembling hand.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “Just concerned. What’s going on, Chester?” She blinked her eyes a few times, and her lip trembled.
“I’m so sorry for what I’m about to tell you.” He pulled his eyes from hers and hung his head. “We can’t get married on Tuesday.”
She jerked her hand out of his grasp. “What? Why?” Her voice shook as she spoke. “It’s because everything is going wrong, isn’t it? God must not want us to get married!” Her voice rose an octave as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I’ve tried not to worry.” Hiccup. “Oh no! I should have known . . .”
“Priscilla—”
“Stop!” She held up one palm toward him. “I know what you’re going to say. You love me, but there is just too much going against us. We’re not on the right path.” She lowered her face into her hands and sobbed.
“Priscilla, that’s not what—” He reached for her, but she pulled back.
“All my life, I’ve needed everything perfect, even though we’re taught to trust His will when things don’t go as we’ve planned. Just when I realized that everything happens on God’s time frame and in His way, you”—her voice grew angry as she swung her hand in his direction—“decide the challenges are too much for you.” She shook her head, crying hard. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Maybe not.” He regretted the words the moment they hastily slipped from his tongue, but it hurt him that Priscilla would feel this way. Yes, they’d had obstacles, but he never thought that it was enough for her to not want to marry him.
“Take me home.” Her body shook as she cried.
“Priscilla, wait. You’re not understanding me. I’m trying to tell you that we can’t get married on Tuesday. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to marry you.”
She sniffled. “What?”
Chester reached for her hand again, and this time she didn’t pull away. “I love you, Priscilla. I want to marry you more than anything.” He took a deep breath. “But I’ve lost our marriage license. I can’t find it anywhere.” He shook his head as he talked. “I’m so sorry. We don’t have time to get another one by Tuesday.”
Priscilla stared at him with her mouth hung open. “That’s it?”
“That’s enough, isn’t it? We’ll have to postpone the wedding, and I’m not sure how we’re going to let everyone know, and I can’t believe I’ve blundered so badly.”
“Chester.” Priscilla’s voice was firm as she said his name. Her brows rose, and a slight grin formed at the corner of her mouth. “You never had the marriage license. I have it safely put away at my house.”
He didn’t move as Priscilla’s comment soaked in. How could I have forgotten that? He thought back to their trip to the courthouse to get the license. “You put it in your purse that day, didn’t you?” He slapped his forehead with his hand as she nodded. “I can’t believe I didn’t remember that until now.”
Relief washed over him. About the marriage license, anyway.
They’d said some hurtful things to each other. Was Priscilla really just about to give up on them?
Chapter Eleven
PRISCILLA SAT QUIETLY AS THEY RODE TO HER HOUSE. Her heart was heavy. She’d reacted much too quickly and said things she didn’t mean—once again forgoing what she knew to be true and falling back to her old ways. Chester was the man she wanted to marry, and that was much more important than the challenges they’d faced up to this point. But he was quiet. Too quiet.
When he stopped the buggy, she turned to face him. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Do you still want to marry me, Chester?” She fought back tears.
“Do you still want to marry me?”
That was not the answer she’d hoped for. She quickly swiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek. “Of course.”
“I want to marry you too, Priscilla. There’s just been . . .”
She braced herself and didn’t breathe as she waited for him to go on. When he didn’t, she finished his sentence. “There have just been a lot of things going wrong.”
“Ya.”
Chester pulled to a stop, got out of the buggy, and walked around to where Priscilla was standing. He leaned
down and kissed her, but despite his words earlier, his lips betrayed him. She could feel it in his touch. Something had changed. He was having doubts.
“I love you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I love you too.”
She pulled back and stared into his eyes for a long while. “See you Tuesday?”
He smiled a little. “Ya.”
Priscilla walked across the yard to the house, turning back twice to look at Chester and wondering if he would actually show up.
MONDAY MORNING PRISCILLA WATCHED AS NAOMI PUT the yellow candied roses on the cake she was making. Within the hour, their house would be bustling with church members who would set up for the wedding tomorrow.
“It’s beautiful.” She sat down at the kitchen table across from her sister.
Naomi adjusted the tiny roses along the edge of the cake and looked up. “What’s bothering you? For someone who is getting married tomorrow, you seem down in the dumps.”
Priscilla shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s because Chester and I had harsh words last night.” She took in a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then blew it out. “I mean, I think everything is fine, but . . .” She touched the corner of the cake and pulled back a tiny dab of cream cheese and pineapple icing.
Naomi slapped her hand. “Priscilla, that is something I would expect of Sarah Mae. Stop that.” She grinned and went back to work. “Now tell me . . . but what?”
She tried to organize her thoughts. “We’ve had so much go wrong. You don’t think it’s God’s way of telling us not to get married, do you?”
Naomi didn’t look up. “What do you think?”
“Don’t do that, Naomi.” Priscilla gently tapped the table with her hand. “I want to know what you think.”
Naomi stopped what she was doing and walked around to sit down beside her. “Here’s what I think.” She put her hand on top of Priscilla’s. “Life is not perfect. And sometimes in your world, Priscilla, you need things to go exactly as you’ve planned, even though you know it is our belief that life should not be easy. But you forget . . . we are here living God’s plan. Sometimes things might seem like they are falling apart or going wrong because God has something better planned for us around the corner.” She tipped her head and smiled. “Life is a learning journey, Priscilla. But sometimes I think you forget the lessons being taught.”
Priscilla knew that Naomi was right. Please, God. Let me trust Your plan for my life. She knew that it was just a wedding and that the meaning behind the event was far more important than the affair itself. She hoped Chester could forgive her outburst, and she hoped that God would calm her heart as she fought the fear that Chester was now having doubts about their future.
CHESTER HAD A SURPRISE FOR PRISCILLA, EVEN THOUGH he wouldn’t be able to tell her until two weeks after they were married. But even though he was excited about it, worry threatened to weigh him down. He loved Priscilla more than anything in the world, and her desire to have things organized and orderly was one of the things that drew him to her. But if the past month was any indication of how their wedding might go tomorrow, he worried that she would be disappointed. He’d prayed long and hard last night after he dropped her off at home, and through communion with God, he asked the Lord to fill his heart with faith. Surely love was the right path, even if it was paved with challenges. And today, Priscilla seemed to be working things out in her heart and mind. The day before they’d both reacted out of fear and worry, both emotions that they knew kept God’s wisdom just out of reach. He hadn’t been able to talk to her much with so many people around getting things ready, but she had smiled most of the day. And things were looking up in other areas too. Zeke had made it back from Middlefield tonight, saying his father was doing better. Even though John had been ready to step in as an attendant, Chester was glad that his cousin was back.
Chester finished towel-drying his hair, tossed the towel into the hamper, and sat on the bed. He noticed Rachel’s envelope on the nightstand. As he picked it up and ran his finger along the seam, he remembered how he promised Rachel that he wouldn’t open it until the day of his wedding. Smiling, he put it back down, then fluffed his pillows and got comfortable in bed. A subtle breeze blew through the opened window, enough for him to crawl underneath the covers. He slept so well when the nights were brisk. He wondered if Priscilla liked to sleep with the window cracked this time of year.
He snuffed out the lantern, pulled the covers up to his neck, and stared at the ceiling. A glimmer of moonlight spilled through the window and into his room, producing tiny specks of light on the ceiling. He connected the dots in his mind as he thought about how this was the last night he would sleep in this house as a single man. That was the plan anyway. He sure hoped Priscilla wasn’t having doubts. Despite his determined attitude that he wouldn’t let worry plague his thoughts, the nasty emotion kept creeping up on him just the same. He squeezed his eyes tight as if to will it away.
I trust You, Lord. I’m not going to worry.
But an hour later he was still awake, and still playing connect-the-dots above his head. They were supposed to be at Priscilla’s house at six o’clock to help with last-minute setup, and the wedding would begin at eight o’clock. He finally dozed off around eleven, but awoke with a startle at three. His eyes bolted open as he tried to recall the dream he’d just had. As he sat up in bed, he remembered. They were at the wedding, and Priscilla was crying. It was raining on her special day, and the food was cold because they ran out of propane. Naomi dropped the special cake she’d made for Priscilla. His heart raced.
Please, dear Lord, don’t let all that happen.
He lit the lantern and ran a hand through his shorter curls, glad his mother had cut his hair the day before, then edged his legs over the side of the bed. Rubbing his arms to warm himself, he shook his head. He didn’t believe in premonitions or predictions of doom and gloom, but the dream felt so real that it shook him up. Was this what he had to look forward to in a few hours?
Deciding that sleep was out of the question, he got dressed in his wedding clothes. A new crisp white shirt his mother made, black slacks, and . . . he picked up the black vest he’d planned to wear, but hung it back on the rack and chose the clothes Priscilla had made. He slipped on his black suit jacket and walked to the mirror carrying the lantern. He placed it on his chest of drawers while he looked in the mirror and carefully fastened his bow tie. Today he and his attendants would don the bow ties, as was tradition. He finished off his outfit by putting on a brand-new black hat with a three-and-a-half-inch brim.
Dressed and ready to go, he still had two hours before he needed to leave. Abe had already said that he would take care of the morning chores today. Chester sat down on his bed, his stomach churning with anticipation, excitement—and a tinge of worry. Then he remembered Rachel’s envelope. He picked it up and slid out a single sheet of paper, expecting one of the pink-colored pictures Rachel was known for. He pulled the lantern closer. It was pink all right. But it wasn’t a picture. And Chester’s eyes filled with water as he read the words scribbled on the page.
PRISCILLA AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF RUSTY THE ROOSTER crowing. Sarah Mae had named the rooster, who was clueless about when he was supposed to crow. Every other rooster they’d had announced a new day when the sun came up. Not Rusty. He sang when he saw light. Any light. And that meant that someone was already up downstairs with lanterns lit. She glanced at her clock, which showed four a.m. She was much too anxious to try to sleep for another hour or so.
After she cleaned up and brushed her teeth in the bathroom, she dressed for her wedding. As she slipped her dress on, she was pleased. Every stitch might not be as perfect as her first dress, but the navy blue dress fit well. She pulled her hair into a tight bun, then pinned it beneath a new black kapp, a gift from Hannah. She eased to the mirror in her room with the lantern in her hand. She looked at herself in the mirror in her black prayer covering, which was to differentiate
between the white kapp she normally wore.
I am a bride. Today is my wedding day.
She smiled, walked back to her bed, and sat down. As she pulled on a new pair of black socks and new high-topped black shoes, she sighed, knowing she was dressed way too early. Folks wouldn’t start arriving to help for another couple of hours. She carried the lantern out into the upstairs hall, glad that Rusty must have gone back to sleep, but she wondered if anyone was up downstairs. She eased down the stairs, careful to skip the creaky third step on the way down. There was a lantern lit in the kitchen, but no one was downstairs at the moment, so she walked back upstairs and sat down on her bed, unsure what to do with herself.
Her muscles tensed. Despite her prayers and communion with God, she couldn’t seem to shake the apprehension that festered within her heart. She bowed her head. I know in my heart that You have a plan for me and that I shouldn’t worry so much about what this day might bring, so please, God, wrap Your arms around me and Chester today, and let us not lose sight of what is most important.
Priscilla lifted her head as she recalled the times in her life she’d heard the voice of God. In those instances, she had known that she was right with God in her heart and mind, fearful of her Lord, but without fear in her heart of human actions and reactions. She knew the difference, and she knew that human fear and worry had overcome her as of late, as hard as she’d fought it. She lowered her head again and prayed for renewed faith and total trust in God and His plan for her. When she was done, she stood up and decided to go back downstairs. There still wasn’t anyone in the kitchen, but maybe she’d try to eat a bowl of cereal. She didn’t think she could stomach a big breakfast this morning.
When she got to the doorway, she turned around and looked back at her bedroom, knowing that tonight Chester would share her room. She walked toward the bed, placed the lantern on the nightstand, then pulled up her covers on the bed and smoothed the wrinkles. She loved her Lone Star quilt with its brilliant red, but her mother had made her a new quilt to take to her new home—a lovely white wedding quilt with the traditional intertwined rings. She only wished she didn’t have to wait months to start keeping house in her new home.
An Amish Wedding Page 25