by Amy Clipston
“If you want to stay here, you need to marry him.” Dat barked the words at her. “If not, then you and Mark will be shunned for your inappropriate behavior. You both know we have a strict rule of no touching before marriage, and I can’t take another shunning in my family.”
Priscilla’s knees wobbled as she realized the truth. She was trapped in this situation. She had to do what her father and the bishop said. She couldn’t allow her father to evict her and Ethan. They’d have to go to a homeless shelter because she couldn’t ask anyone in the community—not even Laura—to take them in if she was shunned again. She had to succumb to their demands, even if it meant marrying a man she hadn’t chosen, a man who would never have chosen her. She had to make this work for her son’s sake.
Priscilla turned back to her father. “What makes you think Mark will agree to this?”
“Trust me,” Dat said, insistent. “He will.”
Mark’s arms and back ached as he set the pitchfork aside and started toward the barn exit. He had mucked all the stalls in record time. His stomach growled, indicating it was time for him to head home for supper, but he longed to stay and talk to Priscilla. He needed to know that she was okay, but he had to force himself to leave.
Tomorrow was Friday. Maybe her father would realize he’d been wrong about what he’d witnessed in the barn and would allow Mark to talk to Priscilla.
“Mark.” John Smucker appeared in the barn doorway. “I need to speak with you.”
“John, I didn’t realize you were still here.” Hope sparked within Mark. This was his chance to make things right! “I want to talk to you too. What you saw earlier wasn’t what it seemed. We were only talking, and I would never have tried to do anything inappropriate with Priscilla. She’s mei freind, and I care about her.”
“I realize that.” John fingered his long, graying beard. “It’s apparent how you feel about her, which is why you need to marry her.”
“Marry her?” Mark took a step back as if the words had punched him.
“Ya. The damage has been done, and only you can make things right.” John’s tone was even, despite the weight of his words. “It’s what’s best for her and the kind. Only you can repair her reputation.”
Renewed fury boiled through Mark’s veins. “Whose idea was it for Priscilla to marry me?”
John paused as if caught off guard by the question. “Well, Yonnie and I agreed on it.”
“Really?” Mark lifted his chin. “Did Yonnie suggest it to you?”
“That’s not important.”
“Ya, it is important.” Mark’s voice rose. “And rather than keeping this innocent incident to yourself and counseling Yonnie to do the same, you’re going to go along with what he wants?” He stared at the bishop for a few moments as the truth dawned on him. “Tell me you’re not blind. Tell me you see what’s really going on here, John. Yonnie treats Priscilla terribly, and he’s forcing her to marry me as some sort of punishment.”
John’s look became steely. “You’ve got it all wrong. Yonnie is a gut daed, and he’s only doing what’s right. Priscilla needs a stern hand because of her past behavior.”
“Priscilla’s sins were forgiven when she repented.”
John’s eyes narrowed as he studied Mark for a moment. “Mark, it’s obvious you care for Priscilla, which means you’ll do what needs to be done. If not, then you’ll both be shunned for the inappropriate and intimate behavior before marriage I saw with my own eyes. Besides, you’ve earned yourself quite a reputation with the young women in this community. I think this marriage will be gut for you too.”
“My reputation?” Mark exclaimed. “Are you serious?”
“Ya, I am. Everyone knows you enjoy the company of the maed in the community, and you’re nearing thirty. I think it would be a gut decision for you to finally settle down.” He paused. “It’s up to you what happens now. How would your dat feel if you were shunned?”
Mark’s throat constricted. He couldn’t allow the bishop and Yonnie to humiliate Priscilla again, but was he ready to get married?
“What’s your choice?” John asked.
“I’ll speak to Priscilla, and we’ll decide together.”
“Fine, then. But Yonnie and I have already spoken with her, and I believe she sees what’s right. I need to get home to mei fraa. I’m sure supper is ready.” John nodded and started toward the door. “Tell your dat hello for me.”
John disappeared from the barn, and Mark stilled as if his boots were glued to the barn floor.
Shock rippled through him as all his hopes and dreams dissolved. He felt as if he were dreaming. This couldn’t really be happening! How could his entire future be decided for him in a matter of a few hours? He felt as if he couldn’t breathe as the bishop’s words echoed through his mind. If he married Priscilla, he’d never build a house on his father’s farm. He’d never come home to his own kitchen, his own bedroom. He’d never have the freedom he’d envisioned in that little house he’d hoped to build next to Jamie’s. Instead, he would have a wife and a child to support, which meant he’d have to consider their wants and needs before his. Was he ready to be responsible for a family?
But if he wasn’t ready, then he and Priscilla would be shunned. Priscilla had already told him she wanted to leave the community, and another shunning would be just the catalyst to shove her away. His lungs constricted at the thought of her leaving their community forever.
Closing his eyes, he sent a fervent prayer up to God.
God, please lead me down the right path. I’m at a crossroads, and I’m so confused I feel like I can’t breathe. I feel like the world is closing in on me. I have to make the right decision or I could jeopardize the lives of two other people. I don’t want to force Priscilla to marry me, and I’m not sure I’m even ready to be married. But I also can’t stand the thought of losing her. Show me your will. Show me the way.
With a deep, shaky breath, he stepped out of the barn. The rain had stopped, but dark clouds still dotted the sky and the smell of rain remained in the air. He strode through the mud and up the back porch steps, and then he knocked on the storm door. The door opened and Yonnie stepped out on the porch.
“I thought you were gone,” Yonnie said. “It’s almost six.”
Mark jammed his hands in his pockets to stop himself from wiping the smug expression off his boss’s face.
Calm down! You don’t want to be shunned!
“I want to talk to Priscilla. Is she available?”
“She’s making supper with her mutter.” Yonnie lifted his chin. “What do you want to discuss?”
“You know what I want to discuss, Yonnie.” Mark fought to keep his voice calm despite his raging anger. “It’s about our future.”
“I’d like to discuss that with you, actually.” Yonnie nodded toward the barns. “If you agree to marry mei dochder, I’ll give you half my business, plus half my land, and I’ll build you any size haus you want.”
Mark pressed his lips together as his stomach soured.
This is bribery! This is more sinful than if I’d kissed his dochder in the barn!
“What do you think, Mark?” Yonnie held up his hands. “I think that’s a fair payment for marrying my dochder.”
“Priscilla can’t be bought and sold like one of your horses,” Mark said, seething as his entire body vibrated with sudden, white-hot anger. “I’m not going to force her to marry me. I’m going to let her make that decision.”
“Fine.” Yonnie pointed toward the door behind him. “Would you like to come in?”
“No.” Mark shook his head. “I’d like to speak to her out here. In private.”
“I’ll get her for you.”
Mark spun toward the porch railing and leaned forward on it while he waited. His thoughts were moving so fast that he felt queasy. There had to be a way to stop this ridiculous mandate. But how?
When the door clicked open, he glanced over his shoulder at Priscilla. She fingered her black apron as
she gave him a shaky smile.
“Hi.” He stood up and faced her.
“Hi.” She pushed the ties of her prayer covering over her shoulder. “I guess the bishop spoke to you.”
“Ya.” He lifted his straw hat and pushed back his thick hair. “I wanted to talk to you about it in private. I think that if we talked to the bishop, we could—”
She put her finger to her lips as if to shush him and then pointed to the open windows behind her. “Kumm.” She reached for his arm and then pulled her hand back. “This way.”
He followed her down the porch steps, and then they walked side by side on the path leading to the daadihaus, the small, one- story brick house just past the empty swing set.
They walked up the porch steps, and she sank onto a glider and nodded toward the spot beside her.
“How are you?” he asked as he sat down and angled his body toward her.
She shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry.” He heard the quaver in his own voice. “This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “It’s my fault.”
“No, if I hadn’t been kneeling on the barn floor so close to you, then we never would’ve wound up in this mess.”
She looked up at him, and her lower lip trembled. “No, mei dat would’ve found another way to make you marry me. He wants the stigma of his dochder’s illegitimate sohn taken off his family.”
Mark glowered and shook his head. “What if we go talk to the bishop? He’s always been a reasonable man. If we explain exactly what happened and I take the blame, then maybe he’ll change his mind.” He jammed a finger into his chest. “He can shun me since I’m the one who got too close.” And almost kissed you.
Her expression grew grave. “I have no choice. I’m trapped, and there’s no way out unless I want to be homeless. Mei dat won’t let me stay unless I marry you. I don’t have enough money saved to find a place to rent, and I can’t afford day care for Ethan if I have to work outside of school hours. You’re my only option for giving mei sohn a decent home. He’s innocent in all of this. He didn’t choose this life.” She looked out toward her father’s house. “I guess marrying you is better than being out on the street or living in a shelter.”
Mark flinched at her biting words, but then he worked to make his expression serene.
“I should have realized when I decided to come home that mei dat would punish me for sinning.” She looked over at him. “Would you rather go through with the marriage or be shunned?”
He frowned as disgust rolled through him. “I can’t allow your dat to throw you and Ethan out on the street, and I can’t stomach the idea of you both living in a shelter. What if I talk to Jamie and Laura? They both have plenty of room in their homes. What if you and Ethan lived there?”
She gave him a sad smile. “That’s sweet, but it would never work. I’d still be shunned, and so would you.”
“But isn’t that better than having to marry me?”
She sighed and turned away from him. “I think we’re both trapped unless you want to be shunned. But if you’re shunned, mei dat can’t pay you until the shunning is over.”
Mark snorted. “He’d probably fire me anyway. I’d have to go back home and work on mei dat’s farm.”
“But that’s not what you want.”
“I don’t want you and Ethan to be homeless. I don’t think we have a choice.”
They were silent for a moment, and he longed to hear her thoughts.
“What about your girlfriends?”
“Girlfriends?” He raised an eyebrow as he angled his body toward her again.
“You know.” She gave him a sardonic smile as she counted them off on her fingers. “Let’s see. Franey and Ruthann. And Sadie Liz seemed to really like you that day at the fabric store.”
“I’ve told you, they’re not my girlfriends.”
“Do they know that?”
“You sound like mei schweschdere.” He had to change the subject. “Priscilla, we can make this work if we have to. We’ve known each other our entire lives. Surely we can find a way to live together.”
“Ya.” She nodded. “I guess it could be worse. At least you’re not a stranger.”
Mark tried to pretend the insult didn’t cut him to the quick. “All right. I guess it’s settled, then.”
She sighed. “Ya, I guess so.”
“So.” Mark smiled. “Will you marry me?”
She rolled her eyes and then laughed, and he enjoyed the sound. “You already know the answer to that question.”
“Are you going to tell Ethan?”
She pursed her lips. “Ya, but I need to find the best way to tell him.”
“Now we need to meet with the bishop and pick a date, right?”
She nodded.
“We can go see him tomorrow after I get here in the morning.”
She nodded again, and then they stared at each other. Once again, he longed to know what she was thinking. Was she disappointed, scared, anxious? Did she care about him at all?
She stood. “I guess I should get inside and help serve supper.”
“Ya, and I need to get home.”
Mark followed her down the porch steps, and they walked side by side up the path toward her parents’ house.
When they reached the house, she looked up at him once again. “Gut nacht.”
“Gut nacht,” he echoed. He started toward the barn and then spun toward her once again. “Priscilla!”
She pivoted toward him, her eyes questioning his.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for all of this,” he said.
She seemed to wilt a little, her slight shoulders hunching. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry you’ve been tangled up in my mess.”
He smiled at her. “We’ll get through it.”
She nodded. “Be safe going home.”
“I will.” But he wasn’t planning on heading home right away. He was going to go see Laura and beg her to help him make sense of this crazy day.
FIFTEEN
MARK HALTED HIS HORSE AT HIS TWIN SISTER’S back porch, and then he jumped out and tied the mare to the fence before loping up the steps. His mind had raced with bewilderment and anger as he’d made the trek to her house.
When he reached the back door, he knocked and then glanced up at the now cloudless sky, taking deep breaths to calm his zooming heart.
The screen door clicked open, and Allen smiled at him. “Mark. Laura had a feeling you might stop by. Come in.” He made a sweeping gesture. “We were just finishing supper. Are you hungry?”
“Ya. I mean no.” The thought of eating caused Mark’s sour stomach to roil even more. “I was wondering if I could talk to Laura.”
“Of course. Come on in.”
“Who is it?” Laura called from the kitchen.
“Your twin,” Allen responded.
“Onkel Mark!” Mollie called.
As Mark stepped into the mudroom, Mollie slid around the corner and skidded into him, her little arms outstretched. He grinned as he knelt and hugged her.
“Hey, Mollie girl.” He kissed the top of her blond hair. “How’s my big girl? I can’t believe you’re five now.”
“I’m gut.” She smiled up at him, and he touched her nose before hanging his straw hat on a peg by the door. “I love the doll you gave me for my birthday last week. Mamm is going to make me clothes for her. I named her Savilla after my other mamm.”
Mark’s lungs squeezed, but he kept a smile on his face. “That’s really nice.”
He followed her into the kitchen, and the aroma of country- fried steak and baked potatoes wafted over him, causing his stomach to growl.
“Mark.” Laura stood up from her chair at the table. Her face clouded with a frown, and her eyes narrowed. “Something is wrong. You’ve been on my mind all afternoon.” She pointed to the tray of steak in the center of the table. “That’s why I made your favorite meal.”
“I n
eed to talk to you.” He rubbed the back of his head.
“It’s serious.” Her tone was grave as she turned to Allen. “Would you please give Mollie a bath?”
Allen looked at each of them and then nodded. “Ya, of course.” He turned to Mollie. “Let’s go, kiddo. It’s bath time.”
“But I want to see Onkel Mark.” She threaded her fingers with Mark’s and held on tight.
“You can see him after your bath.” Allen’s face seemed to question if that were true, and Mark nodded. “You can play in the tub for a while, and then we’ll come back down.”
Mollie considered this and then nodded. “Okay.” She looked up at Mark again. “Don’t leave before I see you. Pinky promise?” She held up her pinky, and he threaded his own with it.
“Of course I won’t.” Mark leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I would never leave before saying good night to my twin niece.”
Her smile brightened, apparently pleased. Then she scampered over to Allen and took his hand before he steered her through the family room toward the stairs.
Laura touched his arm. “Have you eaten?”
Mark shook his head. “I came right here after leaving Yonnie’s.”
“Sit.” She pulled out her chair and pointed to the seat. “I’ll get you a plate.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose as the beginning of a headache stabbed at the back of his eyes. He had to sort through the events of the day and figure out how to explain it all to Laura. But how could he even explain it when he was so confused? It all felt like a bad dream—more like a nightmare.
Laura cleared away the used plates and utensils. After placing them in the sink, she set a glass of water, a clean plate, and utensils in front of him, and then she sat down beside him. “You need to eat.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I can.”
Her blue eyes shimmered. “I’ve never seen you like this.” She swallowed. “At least, not since we lost Mamm. What happened today?”
He rested his elbow on the table. “I’m still trying to make sense of it.” He turned toward the platter of steak again.
“Eat.” She pushed the dish toward him.