by Amy Lillard
She sighed and allowed herself to drift back off to sleep.
* * *
Jonah talked to her parents, assured them that Sarah was on the mend, and never left her side. They moved her into the sewing room downstairs. There was an extra bed in there for when they had company, though Jonah couldn’t remember the last time they had used it for such. For three more days he kept his vigil. Her fever came and went, but never reached as high as it had been that first morning.
“Jonah?” He jerked awake, confused that he had been sleeping. What time was it? Early, by the looks of the dark sky out the window. Or late. Really, really late.
“I’m here, Sarah.”
“Okay.” Her voice grew sleepy once again. “I was just checking.”
And for some strange reason her words gave him hope. He found her hand in the dark and squeezed her fingers. She squeezed back and he smiled. Everything was going to be fine. He just knew it.
* * *
She’d had the strangest dream. She had been floating along in the sky, drifting as if she were some sort of bird. And Jonah was there with her, holding her hand and smiling at her as if he really and truly loved her. And for a moment that dream had been her only reality. Then everything had changed; her limbs grew heavy and she had crashed to earth.
She had heard somewhere that if a person had a dream that they were falling, if they hit the ground they would have a heart attack. She could now say that wasn’t true. She landed on the ground in a bright field of corn, every bone in her body feeling as though it had shattered. She managed to pull herself to her feet even through the pain, but that pain was nothing as she watched Jonah fly away with April. She might not have looked like her in the dream, but Sarah knew who the girl was.
Jonah was on his way to the English world with his true love, and she was left behind, alone, in her Amish home.
“I love you,” he had called as he flew away. But she knew that to be a lie. How could he love her if he was leaving?
Sarah jerked awake, once again feeling as though she was falling.
“Sarah?”
Jonah hadn’t flown away. He was sitting right there by her bed. That part of the dream might not be true, but the rest of it was right on the mark. He didn’t love her, and he was leaving her for April. She had heard all the talk. He was selling their house so he wouldn’t be weighed down by the responsibility.
“What time is it?” she asked. There was no clock in the room, at least none that she could see.
Jonah chuckled. “Just after lunch,” he said. “But you might want to ask what day it is.”
Okay. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
Wednesday. But the Valentine’s party had been on Thursday. That would mean . . . “I’ve been asleep for six days?”
“You’ve been sick.”
Why couldn’t she remember that? But she could believe it. Her hair hung in lank strands around her face, and her mouth tasted like ash. “Jah,” she said. If she had lost six days, that had to be the truth, whether she could remember it all or not.
The last thing she could remember was talking to Jonah at the party, him telling her that he was selling the house, and then leaving the party and getting caught in a snowstorm.
She looked at the window across the room. There was no more snow to be seen. It seemed Jonah was telling her the truth.
“Would you like something to eat?”
Would she? “Jah, danki.” She decided she was hungry, or at least she could eat something. Her belly felt empty and raw even if it wasn’t growling for food.
Jonah got up and hurried from the room, leaving Sarah blessedly alone. His presence was disturbing her, though she hadn’t realized it until he left. He seemed concerned about her, and for that she was grateful. He had made sure that she had been taken care of these last few days, but she couldn’t help but question the sincerity of that concern. He must be putting on for his family, pretending that everything was okay for now when she knew that it wouldn’t be long until he left for the English world. It was going to break his mother’s heart. Though Sarah and Gertie had never been close, she didn’t want that for the other woman. She would have to be heartless not to care.
Jonah came back into the room carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of something that smelled delicious and a thick slice of bread on the side. “Mamm made you some soup. It’s chicken noodle.”
“It smells good.”
She pushed herself into a better sitting position, and Jonah placed the tray over her lap.
She wasn’t wearing a prayer kapp, but she bowed her head regardless and said a small prayer for getting through this illness and the food she was about to eat.
She finished her silent prayer and picked up her spoon. She blew on the steaming spoonful of soup as Jonah watched her like a hawk watches its prey. Or an overprotective mother watches her rambunctious child.
“What?” she asked.
“I’ve been worried about you.”
Be still, heart. They were just words. Pretty words, but only words. She knew his true feelings. “I’m okay.” She dunked her bread into her broth and savored the warmth as it filled her. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she actually started eating. Now she was having to temper her movements to keep from eating like a pig.
Perhaps someone was at the door watching. But she ignored Jonah as she continued to eat, and he continued to watch her every movement as if she were some fascinating creature instead of the wife he didn’t want.
She finished the last bite with a satisfying sigh.
Jonah was on his feet in an instant. “Do you want some more?”
She shook her head. “I’m really kind of tired. I think I’ll take a nap.” It was anybody’s guess as to how she could sleep for days, then need a nap. She guessed that was all part of being ill.
“Jah. Sure.” He picked up the tray and left the room.
Sarah rolled over, so surprisingly exhausted. She closed her eyes and fell immediately asleep.
* * *
For the next two days, Jonah attended her every need. It was tough lying in bed most of the day, her body weak, but her mind willing and ready to go. And it was even more difficult since Jonah hovered, hardly letting her out of his sight for any more than a trip to the bathroom.
Each day she walked—with his help, of course—into the living room. She would play Chinese checkers with Buddy and a silly game called Ants in Your Pants with Prudy.
At least Sarah was growing stronger with every day that passed.
“I’m ready to go home,” she said on Friday morning. The snow was gone, she was better, and nothing was holding her at the Millers’. She would miss Buddy and Prudy and Jonah most of all, but she had to get back to real life and stop pretending that she and Jonah had a future. But it was so easy to do when he hovered over her, making sure he didn’t want for even the simplest of things.
Guilt. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Jonah felt guilty, as if somehow his words had caused her to be out in the snow and get sick. She wasn’t sure how he factored that in, since she had been responsible for filling up the tractor. Or not, as the case was. She wasn’t sure that little detail concerned him at all.
But she couldn’t stay here and pretend forever, and she certainly couldn’t allow him to continue to fawn over her out of misplaced guilt.
“About that . . .” Jonah started. He looked over to where Buddy sat playing with his yo-yo. He had been trying all week to learn a new trick. Baby in the Cradle, she thought it was called. “Buddy?”
He looked up from his toy, then flipped his gaze to Sarah. “I guess I need to go straighten up my room. Jah, that’s what I need to do.” He hustled up the stairs as if the seat of his pants was on fire.
Something was up, but she had no clue as to what.
“I’ll take you home, but not to your house.”
She frowned. “Then how can you take me home?”
“I’m g
oing to take you to our house.”
“I thought you were going to sell it.” As far as she knew, he could have sold it already.
“About that . . .” It was the second time he had used that phrase, and it was starting to make her suspicious.
“About what?”
“I’m not going to sell the house, Sarah. I want to live there.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, it had been an English house once. It was wired for electricity and would be nothing to get back up and running for his budding relationship with April. Sarah ignored the pain as the thought seared through her. It was past time to face facts.
Wait a minute. “If you want to live there . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence. It made her hopes rise for things that could not be.
“And I want you to live there with me.”
Sarah blinked at him, wondering if the flu had somehow damaged her hearing or maybe her brain had overheated when she had a fever. Something wasn’t working right. This was Jonah. Jonah who she loved with all her heart who had never really wanted anything to do with her.
Until that one night.
She pushed the thought away and concentrated on what he was saying now.
“What do you say, Sarah?”
She pushed to her feet, needing to put some distance between them. “What do I say?” She stomped over to the fireplace and stared into the flickering orange flames. Words escaped her. She braced her hands on the mantel and ducked her head between her arms.
“Sarah?”
She whirled around to face him. “Why are you doing this to me?”
He had the nerve to look confused. “Doing what?”
“Pretending like you want to be my husband.” She bit back the tears that threatened. She would not show that weakness. Not now.
He stood and came close to her, but Sarah moved away. She had a hard time when he was standing close. “I do want to be your husband.”
She shook her head. “After all we’ve been through, the very least you can do is tell me the truth.”
“This is the truth.”
She shook her head. She wanted to believe it but she couldn’t. “Take me home, please, Jonah. And don’t put us through any more of this.” She turned and made her way to the kitchen. One thing she had learned since she had been staying here: if she wanted Gertie Miller, look in the kitchen.
Jonah’s mother stood at the counter kneading a wad of dough on the floured surface.
“I just wanted to come say danki for allowing me to stay here when I was sick. I appreciate all you did for me.”
Gertie’s gaze flickered to something over Sarah’s shoulder, and she knew that Jonah had come up behind her. She looked back to Sarah, brushing the back of her arm against her forehead. “It was Jonah.”
Sarah didn’t know quite how to respond. “Well, danki.”
“He loves you, don’t you know.”
Behind her she felt Jonah stiffen. What was Gertie trying to do?
“That’s what he’s telling me.” But he hadn’t really said those words. Only that he wanted to be her husband. And that he wanted them to live in their house together.
But she knew that it didn’t mean anything more than him trying to assuage his guilt for not loving her. She’d had a lot of time to read as she was recovering from her flu. It was amazing the stories that found their way into The Budget and Die Botschaft. Sandwiched between tales of Elmer Byler’s donkey who had twins to the best whoopie pie recipe ever recorded were stories of a rare divorce in an Indiana community and a couple who were living separate lives but still in the same house.
But she didn’t want a sham of a marriage. Maybe she could have handled it years from now, when she and Jonah had grown apart after so many happy years together. But everyone in the district, in the entire community, knew why he had married her. She wouldn’t be able to stand the pitying looks. She couldn’t take it now. She would rather be an outcast and live on the fringes like Katie Glick and Merv King the coffin maker than live a lie.
“So he’s taking you home now?” Gertie asked.
“That’s right,” Sarah said. “He’s taking me back to my parents’ house. Danki for everything.”
* * *
Jonah couldn’t get it through her head. What was wrong with her that she didn’t believe what he was saying? He couldn’t make it any clearer than he had already.
He helped her up onto the tractor and thought for a moment about taking her to their house and making her stay there, but the whole point was to get his wife back. He wasn’t sure that would do the trick. In fact, it might just make things worse.
What would April do?
She would tell him that if he loved Sarah, he would grant her request and take her where she wanted to go.
Love wasn’t a right; it was earned, and he had done nothing to earn Sarah’s love. At least nothing in the last few months. After she lost the baby, he had lost his direction as well. But no more.
He used the excuse of the tractor engine noise to stay any conversation between them. He needed the time to gather his thoughts. And he had a lot to gather. He lined up his mistakes and examined them one by one. It was time to change things between them. Past time.
He pulled down her driveway and parked his tractor in the side yard. One of the Yoders had fetched the tractor home once the roads had been cleared, and he parked next to it.
He swung down and reached out to help Sarah, but she scrambled down without his assistance.
“Sarah!” Annie rushed out onto the porch, her smile so wide it covered most of her face. “You’re home! I’m so glad you’re home!”
He had wanted another bit to talk to Sarah, tell her once again that he wanted her home, but Annie skipped down the steps and wrapped Sarah in a huge hug. Together the two of them walked arm and arm up the steps and into the house.
Jonah followed them like a lapdog.
He shook the thought away. It had taken some time to get into this mess with Sarah, and it was going to take some time to find his way back out.
Her mother and father greeted him at the door.
They thanked him for caring for Sarah while she was sick. What had they expected him to do? Leave her on the snowy roads? They offered him a snack, but he refused. As much as he wanted to stay and spend as much time as he could with his wife, he had plans to make.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Jonah’s here.” Annie let the window shade fall back into place and looked to Sarah.
“What do you mean he’s here?” Sarah put aside the book she was reading and frowned. Just yesterday he had dropped her off with promises to come back and see her “soon.” She thought it had been just talk, sweet words to fool her parents into believing that he actually cared more about her than he did. Now he was outside?
“He’s talking to Dat.” Annie studied her with a critical eye. Sarah squirmed under the perusal. “Do you want me to redo your bob?”
“No.”
“Why not? Your husband is here, and he looks like he’s come courtin’. Why would you not want to look your best for him?”
“Because I’m not courtin’ my husband.” The idea was ridiculous. And it sent her heart fluttering in her chest. She couldn’t afford that. She couldn’t afford to fall for his sweet manner and pretty words. She had already been down that road, and it led to nowhere.
Annie frowned. “I’m confused. I thought you loved him.”
“I do. But that doesn’t mean he loves me in return.” Sarah picked up her book and continued to read. Well, she pretended to, but she couldn’t concentrate on the words knowing that any minute a knock would sound at the door.
The sound shouldn’t have made her jump, but it did.
Annie’s eyes widened. “He’s here,” she whispered.
“Tell him I’m gone,” Sarah returned in the same hushed tones.
“That’s not the truth,” Annie protested.
“I don’t care about that. Tell him
I’ve gone somewhere.”
“Where?” Annie asked.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Just tell him I’m not here.”
But it was too late. The front door opened, and Jonah stepped into the room.
Sarah was on her feet in an instant. She whirled around to face him, barely registering that her sister did the same.
“Hi.” He smiled when he said it, and she was sorely reminded of how weak in the knees just his presence could make her. Why would God let him affect her so? Or maybe it was the devil’s handiwork, especially since she had vowed to remain strong where he was concerned.
“Hello, Jonah.” Her words were cool, aloof even.
Annie poked her in the side with her elbow.
Sarah smiled and shot her sister a “quit it” look.
Sarah turned her attention back to her husband. “What are you doing here, Jonah?”
“I brought you some flowers.” He thrust an odd-looking bouquet toward her, his grin widening.
“What?” Sarah took an involuntary step forward, looking at the unusual flowers he held. Each was wrapped in cellophane, with a small matching bow around the stem. “Are those . . . ?”
“Cookies.” He tempered his grin a bit, but she could tell that he was proud of himself for the gesture.
“I wanted to bring you some flowers, but well, it’s winter and all. Then I went by Esther Lapp’s.”
“Esther Fitch’s, you mean,” Annie corrected.
Jonah nodded. “I guess she will always be Esther Lapp to me. Anyway, she and Caroline Fitch have been making these for special occasions. They told me they had heart ones for Valentine’s Day, but they switched to flowers since March is approaching.”
Sarah hated to admit it, but it was perhaps the cutest thing she had ever seen. The flowers were actually cookies, each covered with a different color icing—turquoise, orange, yellow, and green. The cookies themselves were different shapes, a few looking like tulips and some like daisies.
“Are they sugar cookies?” Annie asked.
Jonah shook his head. “They’re chocolate chip.”
“Too bad,” Annie said. “Sugar cookies are my favorite.”
“But chocolate chip is Sarah’s favorite.”