Amish Romance: The Wedding (Hollybrook Amish Romance Greta's Story Book 3)

by Brenda Maxfield

  Greta took a deep breath. “Isaac and I would like to have you live with us.”

  Raymond’s face fell, and his hands went limp. The almanac thudded to the floor, its pages flapping. Greta jumped up and retrieved it, putting it back on his lap.

  “Dat?”

  “I ain’t leaving this house.”

  “But, Dat, you can’t stay here by yourself!” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. He bristled, and his eyes flashed.

  “I ain’t no boppli!” he cried. “I been living a whole lot longer than you. I can take care of myself.”

  Greta pressed her lips together to bite back the quick retort that flew to her tongue. Take care of himself? Then, what had she been doing these last years?

  He grunted and opened the almanac back up, making quite a show of reading it.

  “It’s upside down, Dat,” she blurted. The anger in her grew until she couldn’t keep still. “And you know full well you can’t live here alone.”

  He snapped the book shut. “I ain’t alone. I got Todd Fisher helping with all the chores. There ain’t much left but a meal now and then.”

  “A meal now and then? Try three times per day. And what about your laundry? And the cleaning? And the shopping? And the garden in the summer and the putting it all up in the winter? You gonna can all the fruits and vegetables now? You gonna do all the woman’s work?” Greta’s breath came in short spurts. What was she thinking to argue with her father this way? It wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. She walked to the back window and stood there, staring blindly out at the now hoed-over garden plot.

  She put her arms around herself and sent up a prayer for forgiveness. After a long minute, she turned around to face her father and was surprised to see him in tears. When he noticed her looking at him, he wiped at them angrily.

  For once, he didn’t seem to have a ready retort.

  She walked to him and squatted before him. “I’m sorry, Dat. Truly, I’m sorry. Isaac and I, well, we want you to come live with us. Just think. You’ll have little James there. You can be a daadi to him. Won’t that be nice?”

  He stared at her.

  “Dat?”

  “And what’s to become of this?” He raised both his arms. “What’s to become of my entire life of work? Huh? Just toss it aside like you want to toss me aside.”

  Greta’s brow crinkled. She had never thought of it that way.

  “How about Todd Fisher?” she asked quietly. “Why not lease the farm to him?”

  “He ain’t family.”

  “Nee, but he takes such gut care of the place.”

  Raymond snorted and stared over her shoulder, his eyes taking on a glassy look. “Leave me be,” he said.

  “But, Dat…”

  “Leave me be.” He closed his eyes and folded his hands over the almanac. His face turned to stone. The conversation was over.

  Greta stood and backed away. She had no solution. None at all.

  Maybe she should just forget about marrying Isaac. Nothing seemed to be falling into place.

  Greta served her father’s favorite meal at noon. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits and honey. He ate it, but not with his usual gusto. Greta was silent throughout the meal, having no idea what to say, nor any way to give her father comfort. In truth, she was completely ferhoodled. For years, she’d dealt with her father’s sharp tongue, his constant criticism, and his depressing moods. But never before had she dealt with his sadness. It oozed from him as he sat at the head of the table, filling the very air with his unshed tears.

  When he was finished eating, he scooted back, tossed his napkin on top of his silverware and scuffled back to the front room.

  Greta watched him go, her heart in her throat.

  For an entire hour, Greta sat outside on the porch with a heavy shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She didn’t know what to do. Her father couldn’t live alone, nor could she force him to move. She wished Isaac would come over and talk about it with her.

  But thinking of Isaac gave her no comfort either. Their relationship wasn’t such that they shared everything, that they felt the beat of each other’s heart and thoughts, that they were so in tune with one another that their burdens were halved.

  She bit back the disappointment that reared up at the thought. She had known exactly what she was getting into when she’d agreed to marry him. She’d decided that she loved him and wanted to be with him. And she loved James.

  She would be a good mother to the little boy. But a good wife to Isaac? Her lower lip quivered. Yes, of course, she would be. She’d decided to be, hadn’t she?

  She got up and wandered down the steps and into the yard. It was dark, very dark. There must be a cloud cover. She looked up through the tree branches. Soon, it would snow, but for now, they were still enjoying some basically decent fall weather. She went toward the barn, unsure why. But it felt good to wander, good to stretch her legs and just let her mind mellow a bit.

  She walked through the barn door and heard Clacker snort.

  “It’s okay, boy,” she said. “It’s only me.”

  She went to his stall and stroked his nose. He was a moving shadow before her. He pawed the ground a bit and nuzzled her shoulder.

  “Greta?”

  She whirled around to see a stocky silhouette in the door. “Todd? What are you doing here?”

  “I forgot something,” he said. He stepped inside and paused. “Do you want me to light the lantern?”

  “Nee. I’m just giving Clacker some attention. I’ll be heading right back inside.”

  “I see.” He moved toward the work bench and picked something up, which she couldn’t make out in the dark.

  “Did you drive your wagon? I didn’t hear it.”

  “I left it near the top of the drive. I just ran down to the barn here quickly.”

  “Well, don’t let me get in your way,” she said.

  “Get in my way?”

  When he repeated it, she realized how silly the words sounded. How was she expecting to get in his way?

  He walked toward her but then stopped abruptly. “You don’t get in my way, Greta.”

  His voice was thick and low. She heard the underlying emotion there and felt a sudden awkwardness fill the air.

  “Th-that’s not what I meant,” she stammered.

  “I know.” He turned and walked back toward the door. “Greta?” He didn’t look at her.

  “What?”

  “Are you happy?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Was she? Happy? Was that so important? Wasn’t life more about duty? About doing the right thing? She doubted many of her friends ever thought about their own happiness. How strange that Todd would even bring it up.

  When she didn’t answer, he let out a long sigh. “Isaac invited me to your wedding. So did your dat.”

  She stiffened.

  “I won’t be coming.” He looked at her then, through the dark shadows. She couldn’t see the expression on his face, but she heard it—if that was possible.

  “All right,” she whispered.

  “I wish I wanted to,” he said. “But I don’t.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  “I know that.”

  A heavy silence fell between them.

  “Greta?”

  “Jah?”

  “Are you sure?”

  She knew exactly what he meant. He thought that getting married because of a deathbed promise was ridiculous. And in a way, she agreed with him. If only she didn’t love Isaac. If only … things would be so much easier.

  “Todd…”

  He held up his hand. “Nee. Forget I asked. Ain’t none of my business.”

  Which was true.

  “I’ll be off. See you around, Greta.” He left the barn.

  “See you around,” she whispered after him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Isaac sat unmoving in his buggy. He’d opted for the buggy
instead of his wagon for this job. He was to be riding the district, personally inviting people to his wedding. He was in no mood.

  But then, he didn’t have much choice now, did he? He kept trying to visualize Greta’s look of relief when he’d agreed to a formal wedding. That look in her eyes had made him glad for his change of heart. So, he needed to keep thinking about that.

  Her eyes, he repeated to himself. Think of her eyes. How happy you made her.

  But it was nigh on to impossible. All he could think of was his giddy excitement when he’d gone through this the first time. He and Betty could hardly stop grinning during those days before their wedding. He couldn’t sleep, he was so excited.

  But now?

  There was one very bright spot in the week. He was going to pick up James the next day. He missed the little guy. And James would be excited to see Greta again. He had no doubt about that.

  Sometimes, Isaac was excited to see Greta, too. No. Not excited, exactly. That wasn’t the right word. But he did appreciate her. And there was a certain comfort in being around her. She had a nice manner. Calm. Sweet.

  He smiled. She really had been thrilled about the wedding.

  His thoughts went to her father. Raymond Glick was a tough old man. Unpleasant to the extreme. That Greta had put up with him all these years was a testament to her patience. He sighed. It was only right that her father come and live with them. He dreaded it for the peace of his home, but he was glad to do it for Greta’s sake.

  She deserved it.

  Otherwise, what would happen to the old man? He didn’t want that weighing on Greta’s mind.

  But now, he still sat there. He needed to get a move on. Needed to finish inviting folks. Truth be told, he felt like a fool going around to all the people so soon after his wife’s funeral. Not that he thought he’d be judged for it. Everyone understood the position he was in. No one would question his need for a new wife.

  An overwhelming urge to talk to Betty welled up within him. For the last five years, they’d talked everything over, decided most things together. But now, he felt alone. Miserably alone. He was taking a huge, life-changing step, and Betty was no longer there to walk with him through it.

  Yet, she was the one who had instigated it.

  His head hurt, and he didn’t like it. Wishing he was in the middle of his fields harvesting something, anything, instead of this, he snapped the reins on his horse and took off for the Allen’s farm.

  Most of the people had responded with subdued interest when Isaac invited them to the wedding. They already knew it was coming—the gossip machine was alive and well. He was grateful for their calm acceptance. Greta would be pleased.

  As he headed back to his farm, he found himself changing direction. Without giving it any forethought, he drove straight to the Glick’s. Greta was out back, hanging clothes on the line, despite the frigid air.

  “Isaac?” she said, dropping her father’s shirt back into the basket.

  He approached her with his hat in his hands. “I’ve invited most everyone,” he said.

  Her eyebrows raised. “Did you now?”

  “Jah. I just wanted to tell you.”

  Greta smiled at him. “Thank you.” She ran her hands down her cape. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”

  Isaac considered her question. Truthfully, he was hungry; he just hadn’t realized it.

  “I have some left-over berry pie. Would you like a piece?” She picked up the basket and hefted it onto her hip. “I can finish this later.”

  “Nee,” he said, reaching out and touching her arm. “Finish it now. I didn’t intend to interrupt.”

  “You’re not interrupting. I wouldn’t mind a break myself.” She walked to the side door and opened it. He strode after her, his long legs easily catching up.

  They entered the house together.

  “Your dat here?”

  She nodded. “Shall I ask him to join us?”

  He saw the hesitation in her eyes, and he yearned to reassure her. “Whatever you think best. It’d be right nice to see him.”

  She gave a start of surprise, but she covered it quickly. She set the basket on the floor and went into the kitchen. He followed her.

  “You spoke to him about living with us?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “He’ll come around. He’s adjusting to the idea.”

  Isaac gazed around the large kitchen. He could understand how the old man felt. This was his home. He’d built it and taken care of it for decades. His children were born here. His wife died here. It wouldn’t be easy to leave.

  He sat down at the kitchen table. “Maybe, there’s another way.”

  Greta stopped fussing with the pie and turned to him. “Another way?”

  “Could we have someone stay here with him?”

  Her eyes registered alarm. “But what would the people think? He’s my dat.”

  “I know. And I’m fine with him moving in with us. But Greta, it must trouble him to leave his home.”

  She sank down across from him. “It does.”

  “I know Todd Fisher takes care of the fields and the animals. Why not have someone come in and do some cleaning? We could even have them cook for him some.” He reached across the table and took one of her hands in his. Her hand felt small and soft and healthy.

  His throat tightened. “Would that be enough?”

  Greta’s eyes welled with tears. “You would do that?”

  “Would it be better for him?”

  She nodded, tears running down her cheeks. He drew in a deep breath. He hadn’t expected such a reaction from her. Her lower lip was even quivering.

  “Greta? Are you all right?”

  She sniffed and wiped away her tears. “Thank you, Isaac,” she whispered.

  “Who do you think might be interested in helping out? We could pay them some.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Can I talk to Dat about it first?”

  He nodded. “Of course. Do you want me to talk to him with you?”

  Her tears started again. “Nee. I’ll do it.”

  She jumped up and dished up a large piece of pie, setting it before him. She took a fork from the drawer and handed it to him.

  “I’ll get you some coffee, too.”

  “No need,” he said, feeling slightly uncomfortable with such a rush of attention.

  “Jah, there is a need,” she said, with another sniff. She poured him a cup of coffee and sat down across from him again.

  “I’m getting James tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve got a Mennonite driver all lined up.”

  “Does your mamm know you’re coming?”

  “By now, she should. I left a message with a local Amish businessman.”

  “He has a phone.”

  “Jah. For his business.”

  Greta fidgeted with her hands. Isaac watched her, wondering what she was thinking.

  “Are you excited?” she finally asked.

  “To see James?” He grinned. “Very.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Do you want to come with me?” he blurted, surprising himself with the question. He’d had no intention of bringing Greta with him.

  “You mean go to Ohio to pick up James with you?”

  “Jah.” Now that he thought about it, it would be nice. He’d enjoy her company.

  “But isn’t your family coming back with you? For the wedding on Tuesday?”

  “They won’t be here until Monday.” He’d asked them to come earlier, but his father hadn’t seen the need. Isaac supposed he was right. There really wasn’t any need. The real wedding preparation would be done by Greta’s sisters.

  Greta appeared to be hesitating, unsure what to do.

  He held up his hand. “No need for you to go.”

  They locked eyes. Isaac felt something click between them, but he had no idea what.

  She touched his arm. “I’ll go,” she said. She rose and went to the sink, bus
ying herself with the dishes. He took a bite of pie and couldn’t help but notice that it was some of the best berry pie he’d ever eaten.

  Chapter Twelve

  “You haven’t hemmed it yet?” Mary asked, gazing critically at Greta’s dress.

  “She knows it ain’t hemmed,” Rebecca said. She knelt before Greta, folding up the fabric. “About an inch and a half should do it.”

  “How does it look?” Greta asked, biting her lower lip.

  “Right nice,” Mary said. She leaned against the back of the davenport. “You really sewed it quickly.”

  “I know.” Greta looked down at the rich blue fabric. Her wedding dress. She was actually standing there in her wedding dress.

  “You’re going to look lovely,” Rebecca said.

  “Be careful, you’ll puff her up.”

  “I don’t care,” Rebecca countered. “She is going to be lovely, and I don’t mind saying so.”

  Greta smiled at her sister. She had a suspicion that the compliment was Rebecca’s guilt talking, but she didn’t comment on it. Of her two sisters, Rebecca was the one who sometimes expressed a bit of remorse for leaving Greta to deal with their father alone. Mary never showed a minute of regret.

  Greta picked up her sewing box and headed up to her room. She could get the dress hemmed before Isaac’s driver came to pick her up in the van. In her bedroom, she wiggled out of the dress and put on her dark green dress. She’d be meeting Isaac’s whole family that day, and she was nervous.

  But she’d also be seeing James again. Her heart fluttered at the thought of the darling baby. How she’d missed him.

  She sank onto her bed and threaded a needle. Her fingers darted quickly over the fabric, as she turned up the hem and stitched it into place. This would be her church dress after the wedding.

  After the wedding…

  She took a quick intake of breath. Isaac had been so dear the other day. Just after she had lamented the fact that they didn’t sit and talk through things, he had come over and they’d done just that. Never had she felt so close to him.

  Never had she felt such hope that maybe she was doing the right thing after all in marrying him.