The Amish Marriage Bargain (Love Inspired)

by Marie E. Bast

  Her heart fluttered when he walked through the door and flashed her a big smile. Where he was concerned, she had trouble thinking in terms of liebe. Jah, she cared for Thad. More and more. But she found herself tamping down her feelings until they were hidden.

  He had tossed her aside the minute April smiled his way. Now she had to remember this was a marriage of convenience and that was all. He’d never really said he loved her.

  “Danki for making the yumazuti, it is gut, but not as gut as this pie. You spoil me. How is Leah?”

  “She was up for a little while. She lingered over breakfast, not much of an appetite. She played with Blackie and her doll for a while, now she is back in bed napping. Her cheeks are rosy again, just not a lot of pep.”

  Thad patted her on the shoulder after lunch. “Spend your day with Leah and let everything else go.”

  She nodded. He walked to the door, opened and closed it in a hurry so only a small draft of cool air found its way into the kitchen.

  After cleaning the kitchen, she slipped upstairs and checked on Leah. The little girl lifted her head off the crib mattress and gave May a big smile, holding herself up with her arms. Jah, she was indeed getting stronger.

  May picked her up and sat in the rocker. Leah leaned against her. Blackie sneaked in through the open door and jumped up on May’s lap. Leah giggled and petted the kitten.

  “Here, kitty.” She patted her leg and wanted him on her lap.

  “Leah, you are my little bit of sunshine.” May kissed the top of her head and smelled her apple-blossom taffy-colored hair.

  Leah pulled at her kapp strings, patted her face, then leaned forward and placed a big kiss on May’s mouth.

  May chuckled. “You are feeling better. Datt is the first kiss I’ve gotten in days.”

  Leah clapped her hands together and giggled. Her dark blue eyes and perfectly arched brows were the exact image of Thad. He was handsome, and Leah was a delicate little doll, like April.

  May hugged Leah and whispered, “Every time I look at you, I’ll never forget who your parents are.” She kissed Leah’s cheek. “But I do liebe you, precious little one. You have stolen my heart for always.” She squeezed and hugged her little morsel again. “It is time you ate, little one, then you can play with your blocks while I do a few things.”

  May hadn’t been fair to Leah, Thad or herself. She had married him for the wrong reason. Leah deserved a mamm and daed who could show love and affection for each other as well as for Leah. Thad said that he loved May, but she knew that it wasn’t true. He only needed a mamm for Leah.

  May kissed the boppli on the cheek. “Sorry, little one, that I got caught in the past. We better get to work.”

  While Leah sat on the kitchen floor, banging her building blocks, May gathered her canning kettle, leftover jars and utensils, carted them to the pantry and set them on the top shelf for winter. The rest of the day was spent catching up on laundry and other work that she’d pushed aside while staying at the hospital. For supper, she fried potatoes and pork chops, then set them on a warming plate.

  Thad stomped through the kitchen door and rushed in panting. “Sorry, I’m in a hurry. Dairy association meeting. I forgot.”

  “Supper is ready. Do you have time to eat?”

  “Jah. Just a few minutes. I’ll wash up quickly.”

  They sat at the table, bowed their heads for silent prayer, then dug in.

  “You’re quiet.” She finished filling Leah’s bowl, set a spoonful of potatoes on her plate and took a bite.

  “Jah, I’m anxious to see if there is a new development. There is some kind of rumor about a letter. I’m anxious to get there and see what’s going on.” Anxiousness laced his words.

  He glanced up from his meal and locked eyes with her. Worry pulled his mouth into a taunt line. “I’m not sure what’s going on. The big ranchers keep producing more and more milk and will soon infringe on our smaller markets. They produce faster and cheaper. Our milk is organic from grazed cows, which makes the amount produced less, but it’s better quality. I think tonight they want to talk about reducing the price...again.” His voice was strained.

  “We could expand the business, but after Leah’s illness, I had hoped to spend more time with her.”

  “Nein. You take care of Leah and make cheese as you have been. The cheese-making was only to help out, not to be a full-time job for you.”

  “I haven’t been making cheese at all since Leah’s been sick. I could always take in sewing this winter.”

  The color in Thad’s cheeks heightened. “Nein, not unless you really want to do that. But I don’t want Leah to be out in the cold if a youngie can’t come to the haus and watch her.” He shot her a warning look. Then he stood up and walked out the door.

  May hadn’t meant to upset him, and she knew he had a lot on his mind. A twinge twisted in her gut. She wasn’t helping him enough. She’d make more rag rugs and maybe work on a quilt while Leah slept. She could get quite a bit of money for a large quilt, slightly less for a boppli or youth quilt.

  She glanced at the door Thad had gone out. They were a team. And they had to figure out how to save their farm together. But she could certainly think up more ideas to discuss with him...

  * * *

  Thad tapped the reins on Tidbit’s back. “Come on, bu, it’s not bedtime yet, you still got work to do.”

  Tidbit stepped out smartly and the trip to the dairy association meeting went quickly. When he got there, he pulled up the reins and parked his buggy next to all the others.

  The meeting and discussion had already started. Jah, he was late and shouldn’t have eaten supper. He quietly weaved between rows of chairs and stepped over feet to find an empty chair.

  The president tapped a mallet on the table. “We need a show of hands on the suggestion to write a letter to the USDA about tightening the regulations.”

  An Amish man from the other side of the room shouted, “We have to write the letter. The big producers from out west have flooded the market with what they call ‘organic milk’ but there is much doubt that it all meets the organic grazing standard. The USDA needs to ensure stricter inspection criteria so all the organic milk meets the standard. The overproduction means we have to sell some of our organic at regular price or we’ll go broke.”

  A second man behind Thad shouted, “Another dairy farmer in Wisconsin had to sell his farm.”

  Thad stood. “Jah, I agree. We have to send the letter. Our prices keep falling. The word organic must be stated clearly as grass-fed, during the grazing season.” He sat down and leaned back in his chair while others said their piece.

  The talking and debating went on for another hour before the mallet hit the desk and they finally took the vote.

  It was late and Thad was bone-weary by the time he made it home. May had left the flashlight by the door so he could find his way to the bedroom in the dark. But he already knew sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight. It wasn’t just the milk he was worried about.

  He was worried about May, too.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thad stepped into the house and dropped down into a chair in the family room. Exhaustion and worry pulled at every bone in his body. The farm was losing money by the day. He scrubbed a hand over his face and ran it down his beard.

  His mind kept wandering to thoughts of May standing at the sink in her blue dress. An image of her, with little auburn tendrils at her temples touching her cheek and teasing her smoky gray eyes, sent his heart beating faster.

  Sleep tugged at his eyelids and pushed him out of the chair. He trudged up the steps to the second floor. Stopping to peek in on Leah, he saw May asleep in the rocking chair, her feet pulled up and scrunched under her afghan.

  He removed his shoes and padded down the hall in his stocking feet. After a wide yawn, he hurried and got ready for bed, snuggled deep into the
mattress, and covered with the quilt May had made him when she saw how tattered his was, then let his head sink into the softness of the pillow.

  The ringing of the clock startled him. He bounded out of bed. The cold floor coaxed his feet into a dash across the room to retrieve his clothes and return to the warmth of the rag rug May had made.

  A stream of daylight pulled his attention to the window. The sky was clear and the sun rose big and yellow, glowing like a bonfire chasing away the darkness.

  He hurriedly dressed, and tiptoed past Leah’s room, carrying his shoes in his hands. During the night, he’d heard May up twice trying to comfort Leah, cranky and still recovering from her illness.

  The smell of hot maple syrup greeted him the second he entered the kitchen. Pancakes. His favorite. Plus May had opened a mason jar of canned peaches. He made a beeline to the table like a dog with his nose in the air. “Mornin’.”

  “Gut morning. How’d your meeting go last night?”

  “We voted to send a letter to the USDA.”

  “Do you think it will help?”

  He poured syrup on his hot stack of pancakes. “Can’t hurt. Sorry, a lot on my mind.”

  “I know.”

  He let his eyes wander over May as she stood at the stove. Trying to ignore his feelings for her, he dropped his gaze back to his plate, and took another bite. After draining the last sip of coffee from the cup, he blotted the drip that dribbled down his chin. He eyed the remaining stack of pancakes on the platter. Nein, time to get busy. He pushed his chair from the table and stood.

  “Would you like another stack?”

  “Nein. Chores are waiting.” He finger-combed his hair back, plopped his hat on, then shrugged into his coat.

  The sound of wheels crunching over the frozen ground came closer and stopped by the house. Thad peered out the window, then darted out the door to the porch. “Caleb, what brings you out so early?”

  “I wanted to get your thoughts on last night’s meeting,” Caleb said. “You look tired this morning. Didn’t sleep well after listening to all that debating last night?”

  “Nein, I got some sleep, but not much.” Thad was silent for a moment, then blurted out, “I asked Bishop Yoder to play matchmaker for me and May, like you suggested, and press her into marrying me, but instead of a frau, I have a nanny and...nein, I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired. I wanted to talk to May last night and bounce some ideas off her after the dairy association meeting, but she is always fussing over Leah.”

  * * *

  May heard Thad and Caleb talking on the porch and noticed the door ajar. She set the dish she was washing on the counter, reached for the door and heard her name. She listened and clutched at her chest.

  Thad sent the bishop to pressure me to marry him? She stumbled to a chair. Of all the cruel things Thad had done to her, this was the worst. He thought her life was that trivial that he could dictate whom she married? She’d trusted her heart to him once again, and once again he’d betrayed that trust.

  The burning on her cheeks lasted all the way upstairs. She poked her head into Leah’s room to check if she was asleep. May quietly ducked into her room, pulled her suitcase out from under the bed and heaved it on top.

  Thad had not only ruined her life once before, she let him into her heart, and he’d ruined her life again. She couldn’t get a divorce, but she didn’t have to live with him. Her body shook with sobs until her knees buckled, crumbling her to the bed. She let the grief drain from her soul.

  After several minutes, she gathered her strength, pushed off the bed and packed her suitcase. Nein. He would not betray her trust again. She loved Leah and always would, but she could not stay with a man that had that little regard for her.

  This was the last time that he would make a fool out of her. She wandered to the window and let her eyes feast on the red buildings surrounded by the white picket fence, the large garden area and the cows grazing in the pasture. A sight she’d probably never see again once she moved to Shipshewana.

  She’d never come back. And never see her daed’s farm, the one she’d grown up on, ever again.

  Squeezing her eyes closed, she turned from the wunderbaar view. Since she wouldn’t be coming back to this haus again, she’d need to find everything she wanted and have it sent to Aent Edna’s. There were a few of her mother’s things in the attic that she’d like to take with her. The walnut whatnot shelves that Grossdaddi made Mamm. After April and Thad married, April put away several of mamm’s mementos so she could give the haus her own personal touch. If there was anything remaining after May left, she would tell Thad it should go to Leah.

  She took her dresses off the hangers, folded them as neatly as she could with her hands shaking like a kite in the wind, and placed them in the suitcase. She’d never imagined that Thad would treat her with such a cold heart.

  Hurrying around the haus, she gathered boxes and the belongings she had to have, then packed them for the three-hundred-mile trip to Shipshewana. She closed the box lid and hesitated. The finality of her actions spun around in her head as she glanced around the kitchen. If she moved out, she’d never return.

  The screen door opening startled May. She jumped out of the pantry so fast it reminded her of the time Mamm had caught her dipping into the cookie jar between meals.

  Thad stuck his head through the crack in the door. “I’m going over to Caleb’s to help him with some work. I’ll be back for supper.”

  “Okay.” May blew out the breath she held as the door banged closed.

  Leah let out a cry. May left the box in the pantry, poured a cup of milk from the refrigerator and took it upstairs.

  Leah stopped crying as soon as May entered the room, her little mouth turning into a sweet smile.

  “Oh, datt is such a charming face, it chased away all those big tears.”

  Leah laughed and smiled again, batting her lashes.

  “Yes, you will be a heartbreaker like your mamm so your daed better keep a close eye on you, for sure and for certain.”

  May sat in the rocker while Leah sipped her cup of milk and fiddled with May’s dangling prayer kapp strings, her deep-blue eyes big with mischief. She grasped the strings and let go, grasped and let go, then batted them back and forth with a fist.

  “So you found a new toy, huh?”

  Leah smiled like she understood every word May said. When she finished her milk, they played with the blocks on the floor.

  A lump grew in May’s throat. How was she ever going to leave this child? She carried her downstairs, put her in her high chair and gave her the blocks. “And don’t be tossing them off the tray.”

  May’s heart was splitting in two. Stay or go? But how could she stay? She pulled a hanky from her pocket and blotted the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her grief tucked away, she stood at the stove and browned the stew meat, then cut up potatoes, onions and carrots. She let it all simmer in a big pot.

  While Leah played, May packed a few more things. With the kind watching, it made boxing up her things very difficult.

  After a few hours, Leah’s eyes couldn’t stay open. Ever since her pneumonia, she wore out earlier than usual. May fed her, tucked her into her crib for the night and returned to the kitchen.

  When she heard Thad’s buggy in the drive and go to the barn, she dished up the stew and waited. When Thad entered, he hung his coat, washed up and joined her at the table.

  They sat and bowed their heads for silent prayer.

  “It’s cold out there,” Thad said at last. “Wouldn’t be surprised if we have snow soon.”

  “I imagine so, it’s late fall.” She took her fork and stirred it around in her stew.

  “Is something wrong? You seem quiet.”

  May took a deep breath. “I heard you talking to Caleb today on the porch. Is it true? You went to see Bishop Yoder and had him press me for
an answer? And tell me people were talking about me when that wasn’t really true? You tricked me, forced me into marrying you so I could take care of your nanny problem. You told him I was the best person for the job.”

  His jaw dropped.

  “You trapped me in a loveless marriage?”

  * * *

  At first, Thad couldn’t believe it. How could he convince her of the truth?

  “May, please believe me. I liebe you.”

  “I can’t believe you went to Bishop Yoder. You lied to me about everything. Everything, Thad. My whole life with you was a lie. I’m leaving and moving to Indiana. You’ll need to find a real nanny for Leah.”

  “You can’t leave! We’re married,” he said.

  She raised her chin. “Yes, I can, and you can’t stop me. I’ve had it with you and your lies. Tell the bishop that.”

  “What about Leah? She’ll miss you so much.”

  Her voice caught. “I’ll miss Leah, but she’s little and will soon forget me. I can’t stay with you, Thad. I can’t forgive you this time. You’ve gone too far. I’m all packed. I’ll find a place to stay here in town until I can catch the train to Shipshewana.”

  His voice turned raspy. “I’ll take Leah over to Mamm’s tomorrow. We can stay in the dawdi haus for a few days until you can move. But I’d like to try to work this out, May. I do truly liebe you. I don’t want you to go.”

  “I’m boxing up what I want, and the rest can go to Leah. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving.”

  May walked out of the room—and out of his life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning, Thad hurried to pack a bag while May gathered Leah’s belongings. The mood in the haus was tense, and he needed to get away so he could think clearly, figure out what his next steps should be.

  He carried their things out to the buggy, then came back inside for Leah. He’d take Leah over to his parents’ dawdi haus on Jonah’s farm for the night. “I’ll come back and do the chores, but I won’t come in the haus. I won’t bother you any longer than need be.” The words stuck in his throat and nearly choked him.