by Amy Clipston
Dat’s eyes rounded as his mouth dropped open.
“Would you like to know why I finally left him?” she asked, her voice sounding more confident than she felt.
He nodded.
“I decided it was time to get mei sohn away from him when I came home from work and found Ethan alone. Trent had gone out drinking with his buddies.” She pulled her sleeve down over her arm. “That was when I knew it was time to leave, before Trent’s behavior became even more erratic and Ethan was in even more danger. So tell me how Trent’s behavior is somehow my fault. I was the one who got Ethan away from him.”
She took a deep breath as her confidence blossomed and surged through her. “Do you know why I left here and wound up with Trent?”
“Because you couldn’t stand to be Amish,” Dat scoffed.
“No. It was because of you.” She wiped away a furious tear. “It was because of how you constantly criticized me and belittled me. I thought I had to get away from here before you broke me. But you didn’t break me, and neither did Trent. Neither of you was able to suffocate my spirit despite everything you put me through.”
Dat blinked.
She nodded in the direction of the daadihaus. “Did Mark tell you he’s going to adopt Ethan?”
Dat shook his head. “He didn’t.”
“Ya, he is. He’s going to be Ethan’s legal father. Trent’s name isn’t on Ethan’s birth certificate, so he has no legal right to him. Still, we told Trent that if he agreed to stay away from us forever and not interfere with the adoption, we won’t press charges against him.”
“That was a gut decision,” Dat said, and Priscilla bit back her shock at his compliment.
“I thought so too.” She set her glass in the sink. “I’m going to bed. Gut nacht.”
Before her father could respond, Priscilla dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom. The weight of her fatigue pressed down on her shoulders as she changed into a nightgown and crawled into bed.
As the events of the terrifying day echoed through her thoughts, she opened her heart and prayed.
Thank you, God, for keeping Ethan safe. Please continue to keep him safe in the days to come.
Then she closed her eyes and allowed exhaustion to pull her into a deep sleep.
TWENTY-FOUR
MARK PUSHED THE PORCH SWING INTO MOTION WITH his toe and breathed in the warm September evening air a week later. Tomorrow his life would change forever. He’d become a married man, and Priscilla would take his name. Soon after that Ethan would officially be his son. Just a short time ago, he’d told Jamie he wasn’t ready for marriage or children, and now he would have both.
How had life changed so quickly?
When a horse and buggy came up the driveway, Mark stopped the swing. Were Priscilla or her parents expecting company?
The horse halted, and when his father climbed out of the buggy, Mark felt alarmed. Did Dat need help? But why would he come all the way over here when Roy and Jamie both lived on his farm?
Mark hurried down the porch steps and up the path, thankfully noting that his father didn’t look worried or upset. “Hi, Dat. Do you need something?”
“Ya, I need to visit you.” Dat smiled as he tied the horse to a hitching post.
“Oh.” Mark pointed toward the daadihaus. “Come on over.”
“Great.” Dat patted Mark on the shoulder as they walked together. “You look gut.”
“Danki.” Mark raised a curious eyebrow. “You haven’t seen mei haus yet. Come on in.”
They climbed the steps together, and Mark welcomed Dat into his home.
“So this is it.” Mark gestured around the small family room. “This is the schtupp and the kitchen.” He pointed to the doors. “We have two bedrooms and a small bathroom. And there’s a utility room over there for the wringer washer. Yonnie is going to build us a bigger haus. He said we can break ground in the spring.”
“This is schee.” Dat walked over to the hearth and touched one of the candles Priscilla had put there as a decoration last week. “A fireplace.”
“Ya. Priscilla said her mammi wanted one.” Mark smiled as he thought of the surprise gift he planned to give her tomorrow after the wedding.
“Very nice and homey.” Dat smiled at him. “It’s a schee night. Why don’t we sit on the porch?”
“Okay.” Mark gestured toward the kitchen. “Would you like a glass of water?”
“No, danki. I’m fine.”
On the porch Mark sat on the swing and Dat sat beside him in a rocking chair.
“How’s Ethan doing?” Dat asked.
Mark’s body tensed as he recalled the ordeal Ethan endured the week before. “He’s better. The stitches were removed from his forehead on Monday, and the doctor said the scar won’t be noticeable. His arm is much better. He wants to stop using the sling, but the doctor says he’ll need to wear it at least another week. His bruises are looking better, and he seems to be okay emotionally.”
Mark paused before going on. “We’ve talked about it, and he understands that he didn’t do anything wrong. Trent was wrong to lie to get him into the truck, and to drink and then get behind the wheel.” He gritted his teeth. “I can’t fathom how Trent thought that was okay.”
Dat shook his head. “Sometimes people make really stupid decisions. We just have to pray Trent gets the help he needs and never hurts anyone again.”
“Ya.” Mark nodded and settled back on the swing. A comfortable silence fell between them for a few moments.
“It’s not supposed to rain before Sunday,” Dat finally said. “I think tomorrow is going to be the perfect fall day.”
Mark turned toward his father as curiosity gripped him. “Okay, Dat. Why are you really here?”
Dat smiled as he looked over at him. “I was surprised when you announced you were getting married. I was certain you’d be a bachelor until you were at least forty.”
Mark guffawed. “So you didn’t think I’d marry one of my eager maed, as Priscilla calls them?”
Dat shook his head. “I knew all along they weren’t the maed for you.”
“Okay.” Mark nodded. “And Priscilla?”
Dat leveled his gaze, the humor evaporating from his face. “I know the truth.”
“Jamie told you.” Mark frowned.
Dat nodded.
Mark sighed as his shoulders deflated. “I should have known,” he muttered. Why had he trusted his older brother? He should have trusted only his twin.
“Don’t be angry with Jamie. I had suspected something more was going on. I asked him, and he told me the truth.” Dat’s expression filled with concern. “I wish you had told me.”
“So you think I’m making a mistake, and you came over here to try to talk me out of it.”
“No, but I’m concerned.”
“Why?” Mark hated the thread of doubt that still coiled low in his gut.
“Do you love her?”
Mark rested his elbows on his thighs as he threaded his fingers together. “I’m not sure.”
“Sohn, I’m not going to lie to you or sugarcoat it,” Dat began. “Marriage takes patience and compromise. Some days are easier than others. Your mamm and I had some challenging times. When the farm had a tough year and money was tight, we took our frustrations out on each other. Some days we hardly spoke, and your mamm was so angry with me that she locked herself in our bedroom while she cried.”
Dat got a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were clearly seeing those days with Mark’s mother. “At times we argued about the kinner. She’d tell me I was too tough on you and your bruder, and then I’d tell her she spoiled you both.” He turned toward Mark and smiled. “Do you remember the time you and Jamie went fishing and came home soaked and covered in mud?”
Mark laughed. “Ya, I do. I think I was eight and Jamie was twelve. I had fallen into the pond, and Jamie came in after me. He was afraid I was going to drown.”
“You two came into the haus and got mud all over the kitc
hen. Your mamm was furious about the mess.” Dat grinned. “She was even angrier with me because I laughed.”
They both broke into cackles, and Mark wiped at his wet eyes.
“Oh, we had some gut times.” Dat sighed. “And we had some tough times, but we got through it because we loved and respected each other.” He shook his head. “Florence and I are older, and we’ve both been married before. So we’re more patient than you young folks tend to be. But we disagree at times too.”
Mark looked toward Yonnie’s house as he tried to imagine what his marriage would be like.
“You have to learn to compromise,” Dat continued. “A gut marriage takes work. The marriage will be froh only if you respect Priscilla and are patient with her. Sometimes you won’t agree.” He paused. “Normally I would have told you all this shortly after you announced your engagement, sohn, but I think my suspicions held me back. When Jamie told me the truth today, I decided to come. You and Priscilla have a unique challenge.”
Mark rubbed his chin, which would soon be covered in a sprouting beard.
Dat wagged a fat finger at him. “The most important advice is don’t go to bed angry. If you do that, your anger will fester overnight, and it will be much worse the next day. Believe me.”
“Okay.”
Dat’s expression softened. “And cherish Priscilla. Show her how much you care about her and Ethan.”
Mark heaved a sigh as he worked to memorize all his father’s advice.
Leaning over, Dat rubbed his shoulder. “You’re a gut man with a gut heart. You’ll be a wunderbaar husband and dat. Just give yourself time to adjust. And remember, all that matters at the end of the day is love.”
Mark nodded.
Dat stood. “Well, I suppose I should let you get some sleep.”
Mark walked his father to his horse and buggy. “Danki for coming to see me.”
Dat shook his hand. “I’m proud of you, Mark.”
“Why?”
Dat leaned against the buggy. “John was wrong to force you to marry Priscilla when you hadn’t done anything wrong.”
Mark nodded.
“But Jamie told me you couldn’t allow Priscilla to go through more humiliation. You’re standing up for what you feel is right, and you’re putting Priscilla’s reputation and well-being above your own. That shows how mature and selfless you are, and that will make you an even better husband and daed.” Dat gave him a quick hug. “I’m proud of all of mei kinner, and your mamm would be too.”
Tears stung Mark’s eyes as he thought of his mother.
“Gut nacht,” Dat said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Gut nacht.”
As his father’s buggy disappeared down the driveway, Mark wondered how he would ever live up to the task of being the husband and father Dat was certain he could be.
Priscilla pulled up her green window shade and peered toward the daadihaus. When she spotted Mark and his father sitting on the porch and laughing in the waning light of evening, she smiled. Had Vernon come to wish Mark well the night before the wedding?
She watched them for a few moments. And then she climbed into bed. She needed to get some extra sleep—if that were even possible. She stared at her dark ceiling, and her heart raced as she imagined the wedding tomorrow. The past five weeks had rushed by at lightning speed.
Although she’d wanted to keep the wedding small, it seemed their entire church district would be there, and of course everyone would stare at her and Mark as they sat at the front of her father’s barn. The benches had been delivered on Monday, and Mark, Ethan, and her father finished setting them out last night. The food was prepared and the table decorations were made. Now she just had to make it through the actual wedding.
How was she going to go through the ceremony without trembling?
Her thoughts moved to the pair at the daadihaus. She was going to marry Mark Riehl. He’d always been the handsomest boy at school and youth group, and she was going to be his wife. How had that happened?
Rolling to her side, she groaned. She wasn’t ready for this, but she didn’t have a choice. It seemed she hadn’t had a choice in any decision since she’d come back to this community.
“I can do this,” she whispered. “I can be strong for Ethan.”
She tried to imagine Ethan and Mark together, playing softball and talking on the porch. This was the right decision for her son. Mark would be the father Ethan needed. But what kind of husband would he be to Priscilla?
The question echoed in her mind, but she couldn’t expect more than friendship from Mark when she’d made it clear he couldn’t expect more than friendship from her.
“I don’t think I can do this.” Priscilla sat on the corner of her bed and hugged her middle as her stomach soured. She looked up at her mother and shook her head. Tears pricked at her eyes. “I can’t.”
“You can, and you will.” Mamm’s dark eyes narrowed. “More than a hundred people are in the barn right now. This wedding is going to happen. It’s time for you to stand up and go marry Mark Riehl as you planned and promised.”
Priscilla’s lip quivered. She’d spent nearly the entire night staring at the ceiling and trying to imagine her life with Mark. It all felt surreal—and wrong.
“I can’t do it.” Priscilla’s voice vibrated with her anguish. “I’d rather be shunned. I just can’t do it. I can’t live a lie.”
“It’s not a lie. He’s already moved into the daadihaus, and yesterday I heard your dat and him discussing plans for your new haus.” Mamm motioned for her to stand. “Get up. The bishop is going to wonder where you’ve gone. Do you want rumors to start in the community?”
Priscilla gave a humorless laugh. “You don’t think they already have?”
Footsteps echoed in the stairwell, and Priscilla braced herself. Was her father coming to yell at her? She’d cry for sure if he did.
“Priscilla?” Laura looked beautiful as she stood in the doorway clad in the red dress Priscilla made for her. She touched her extending abdomen as she studied Priscilla. “Are you okay?”
“Ya.” Priscilla sniffed.
“She’s naerfich,” Mamm said, and Priscilla shot her a look.
“Laura, I don’t think I can do it.” Priscilla shook her head. “I can’t be the fraa Mark needs or deserves.”
Laura clicked her tongue as she sat down beside her and took her hand. “Ya, you can, and you will. Mark is blessed to have you.”
Priscilla shook her head and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “No, he’s not. I’m a mess, and he should have a better fraa.”
Looping her arm around Priscilla’s shoulders, Laura pulled her in for a hug. “You and Mark are going to have a wunderbaar marriage.”
“Not if Priscilla refuses to leave her bedroom,” Mamm snapped before pointing at the clock. “You need to get out to the barn now.” She waved her arms in the air and hurried out of the room, muttering something about giving up.
“Priscilla, listen to me,” Laura began. “We’re all naerfich on our wedding day. I saw Mark earlier, and he looked just as nervous as you do.”
“Really?” Priscilla looked up at her.
“Ya.” Laura smiled and rubbed her back.
“Were you nervous when you married Allen?”
“Oh ya.” Laura gave a little laugh. “I was a mess, but Cindy and Mark calmed me down.”
That knowledge eased something inside of Priscilla.
“Everything will be fine.” Laura stood and held out her hand. “Come on. Let’s go before the bishop comes looking for you.”
Taking a deep breath, Priscilla stood and allowed Laura to thread her fingers with hers. Then she headed toward the stairs and her future as Priscilla Riehl.
TWENTY-FIVE
PRISCILLA FOLDED HER HANDS, TRYING TO STOP them from shaking as she sat at the front of her father’s barn. The stale air was nearly unbearable, causing beads of sweat to pool on her temples. She’d do anything for a breeze. If only the barn
had windows.
She swiped her hand across her forehead before resting it on the lap of her red dress. Then she glanced across the aisle to where Mark sat next to his attendants—Ethan, Jamie, Walter, and Roy. Mark wore his Sunday best—a crisp white shirt, black vest, black trousers, and black suspenders.
They’d sung a hymn, and then the minister launched into a thirty-minute sermon based on Old Testament stories of marriages. Mark’s bright-blue eyes were fixed on the minister as if he were hanging on his every word.
Priscilla, however, couldn’t focus or stop her body from trembling. She felt as if she were stuck in a dream. Today her name would change, and she would move into the daadihaus later this evening.
Everything in her life was about to change.
She smoothed her quaking hand over the skirt of her red dress as her thoughts turned to the uncertainty of what her future would hold. Was it possible she and Mark could develop affection for each other? Or would their marriage forever remain one of convenience—merely giving Mark a stable future and her a place in the community?
Priscilla shifted in her seat, and the overwhelming awareness of eyes studying her overtook her senses. Glancing to the side, her gaze collided with Mark ‘s. His lips turned up in a tender smile, and she tried to mirror the gesture, but she couldn’t. Mark seemed happy, but that could be a ruse. After all, his twin sister said he used humor and arrogance to mask his insecurity. Why had she ever trusted his smiles?
Yet her relationship with Mark had changed from being distant to forging a close friendship. She had gained a level of trust in him, and she was so grateful that he loved her son. But they had no foundation of love or trust necessary for a real marriage between them, and they couldn’t force those either.
It had seemed to make sense to marry Mark to avoid shunning and to give her son a home, but now reality hit her like a ton of hay bales crashing down from the loft in one of her father’s barns. She had to stop this wedding. She had to stand up and tell the bishop that she changed her mind and would face the shunning instead.
And allow Dat to kick you and Ethan out of his house and off his land forever?