Amish Brides

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Reba scooted back from him just a bit. If he was already regretting the decision to kiss her, then she definitely needed to put as much distance between them as she could. Because that kiss was not on her list of regrets.

  “What?” No! She should’ve asked why? She heard what he said. But why did he say it?

  Abel shook his head. “Do you need help getting down?”

  “No.” This was not happening at all the way she thought. But she should’ve realized. Abel Weaver had a broken heart. It might have been born with problems, but now it was broken by a woman. Who knew when it would be whole again? She’d gone into this knowing that was the truth. She couldn’t blame anybody but herself. Not even him.

  She slid open the door and started to get down. But in her haste it seemed she caught the side of the boot on something and couldn’t find her way out of it.

  “Wait,” he said. “I’ll help you.” He got out of the buggy and came around.

  Reba blinked back her tears. This was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t want help from him. She didn’t want help from anyone, and she had allowed herself to need him. Or maybe she had just been pretending, but she had wanted to be with him. She had wanted to have his help. She had wanted that kiss. But he said it was a mistake.

  “I’ve got it,” she lied as she continued to try to pull herself free.

  “It looks that way.”

  Stubborn man. She had told him she was fine and he insisted on coming around and wrapping his hands around her waist. Somehow he hoisted her to the ground, freeing her when she wasn’t able to release herself.

  “Thanks,” she said. “For nothing.”

  She started to turn away, but he grabbed her wrist, whirling her back around. “What does that mean?”

  She shook her head. “If you don’t know, then I’m not going to tell you.”

  He stared at her for a second, his fingers still wrapped around her wrist, preventing her from a dramatic exit. If he would only let her go, she would stomp up the stairs, slam the door, and make a big production to let him know just how unhappy she was. And what then? How was that going to solve anything?

  He released her and folded his arms. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “No. It’s not okay.” Couldn’t he see that? But she had embarrassed herself enough for one night.

  A strange light dawned in his eyes. She was unsure how she even saw it, considering hers were filled with tears. “I’m not sorry for kissing you,” he said. “I’m sorry for kissing you now.”

  The entire world seemed to stop. The crickets stopped chirping and the frogs stopped croaking and the wind stopped blowing. Everything was still. Had she heard him correctly?

  “Would you explain that, please?” Her heart stilled in her chest, somehow taking a lesson from the frogs and the wind.

  “I told you about Abigail.”

  Abigail. So that was her name.

  “She’s supposed to marry another this fall. I moved here because I couldn’t stand watching the two of them together. I needed a fresh start. I never dreamed that I would meet someone like you my second day here. And I never imagined that you might be the one to make me forget her. But I think we’re moving way too fast. I’m not sure my heart is ready for a new love. So as badly as I wanted to kiss you, I should’ve waited. I can’t give you false hope.”

  Reba was certain she’d never heard sweeter words. “I don’t have false hope.”

  “You sure about that?”

  She bit her lip and gave a quick nod. “I’ve waited a long time to meet someone like you, Abel Weaver. And I’ll wait as long as I need to for you to get your heart back right.”

  “It took years to repair my heart physically. The defect I was born with. I don’t know how long it takes to heal a broken one.”

  Reba trailed fingers down his cheek, quickly imagining what he would look like once he started growing his marriage beard. What a handsome man Abel Weaver would make. Handsome enough, gentle enough, and stubborn enough that she would wait on him as long as she needed to. “However long it takes,” she said. “I’ll be here.”

  * * *

  Reba floated into the house, dream-walked to bed, then had beautiful nighttime dreams of a bearded Abel Weaver wearing brightly colored shirts while she sewed raisin-colored dresses for their daughters. It was a strange dream, but she knew: It was God’s way of telling her that all things happened the way they were supposed to. She couldn’t ask for more assurance than that.

  “You’re looking chipper today,” Mamm said as Reba came down for breakfast the following morning.

  As planned, she donned her raisin-colored dress, though she was half-tempted to wear the borrowed blue dress that she had worn the night before. Somehow she felt that the in-between color had given her good luck of sorts. But she wouldn’t want Abel to think she wasn’t wearing clean clothes, so the brownish dress it was.

  “I am feeling chipper.” She smiled. “It is the last day of school, after all.”

  “Are you thinking about teaching again next year?” Mamm asked.

  Reba grabbed a glass of orange juice and shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t like she knew her plans. It wasn’t like she and Abel would be married this fall, but maybe she should let the teaching position go to one of the younger members of the community. That would allow her to possibly get ready for her own wedding.

  Mamm handed her a plate with two eggs and toast. “If you’re feeling so chipper, are you sure you want to wear that dress?”

  So it wasn’t the prettiest color. Oh, who was she trying to kid? The color was downright ugly. But it was conservative and subdued and everything she was reinventing herself to be. And she would be spending the balance of the day with Abel Weaver. It was better this way for sure.

  “Of course,” she said, with more confidence than she felt. It wasn’t about the dress. Hadn’t Mamm said that very thing the night before? So what difference did it make what color she wore? What difference did it make if she wore a bright color or somber color? She was still the same Reba Schmucker if she wore bright pink or the dullest gray. She didn’t have to constantly battle the system. She could conform from time to time. What was wrong with that?

  “If you say so.” Mamm turned back to the stove.

  Reba ate breakfast as quickly as possible, gathered up her treats for the picnic, and hitched up her horse. Today was a beautiful day. She couldn’t ask for a better day for the last-day-of-school picnic. It made the sun shine a little brighter and the sky a little bluer, since Abel was coming to spend the day with them. He might not be ready for a new relationship; she could understand that. But she would be here when he was. Being his friend, going places with him, and enjoying his company.

  Wearing ugly, puce-colored dresses.

  She pushed that thought away as she pulled into the schoolhouse drive. A few of the students had already gathered, playing in the yard until time for school to begin. Except for today. They wouldn’t go into the schoolhouse. They would remain outside, playing games like jump rope and softball and eating until they couldn’t hold another bite.

  “Reba! Reba! Reba!” The kids gathered around as she managed to hoist herself out of the buggy. She couldn’t say she was the most graceful with her walking boot on, but she was getting better at it. By the time she got it off she would be able to hop down like nothing had ever happened to her ankle at all.

  “Is everybody ready for the picnic?” She held up her sacks of goodies. The kids cheered.

  “Is Abel coming?” Constance asked.

  “He said he was.” She handed off the sacks to a couple of the older students, then hitched her horse to the post. There were still a few more minutes before school officially started. And it wasn’t like he told her he would be arriving in time for the first bell. In fact, they had never really talked about when he was coming to join the festivities. He might not come until the afternoon. As far as she knew, he’d gotten most everything done at Jess’s house.
Good thing, seeing as how the wedding was Tuesday. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have another job to go to this morning and he would only be able to come by later, after the softball game had started.

  “But he is coming.” This from Lilly Ruth.

  The other kids dispersed, and Reba was left with her three nieces. “He said he would come,” she said. Something in their voices made her stomach uneasy. Did they expect him not to come, or was this just another part of their matchmaking efforts?

  “You didn’t do anything, did you?” She looked at each of her nieces in turn.

  Hope took a giant step forward. “I just want to say that I haven’t done anything since you told us not to, Reba. Unlike some other people I know.” She cut her gaze toward each side, pinning her sisters individually with an accusing stare.

  “Maybe you should have,” Lilly Ruth said. She stuck out her tongue.

  “Girls.” But the warning was only halfhearted. She kept glancing down the road, wishing the corn weren’t quite so tall so she could see farther. But there was no sign of Abel’s buggy. Was he even coming at all? Only time would tell.

  At eight o’clock she rang the bell, gathering all the kids into the classroom one last time. She was really hoping he would be here before now, but she wasn’t about to let herself get worried. He said he would come. Now he had a reliable horse. It wasn’t like the rusty-colored mare he bought last week at the auction was as crazy as the stallion he had given up. She just needed to be patient. He would get there in his own time.

  She went through the day’s festivities with the kids and turned them loose outside. The seventh and eighth graders helped with the games and got everyone organized for a softball game later. Reba knew that parents would be stopping by all day, and yet she still checked the roads for Abel.

  It was almost ten o’clock when he pulled his buggy to a stop in front of the schoolhouse.

  By the end, she had stopped watching and only knew that it was him for the chorus of “Abel’s here!” that went up around the playground.

  He got down from the buggy and immediately Reba knew something was wrong. Or maybe wrong was the incorrect word. But he didn’t seem like the same carefree Abel of yesterday. Her gaze swung from him to the passenger seat in his buggy. A petite young woman sat there.

  Please let that be one of his cousins.

  Reba pasted on a friendly smile and followed the sea of children toward Abel Weaver.

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” She injected as much teasing into her voice as she could muster, but it seemed as if it fell short regardless of her efforts.

  He pressed his lips together and gave a quick nod. “I didn’t know what to do with . . .” He gestured back toward his buggy.

  “Is that your cousin?” Reba asked. Please let it be his cousin. “She needs to go to the doctor or something?” She’d never wanted someone to be sick more in her life. But deep down she knew what he was about to say next.

  “That’s Abigail.”

  Chapter 9

  Somehow Reba managed to tell Abel that it was fine. That she understood. That no, the kids wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t stay and play softball. They would understand that he needed to go work out this problem from his past. Now she just had to convince herself.

  But it wasn’t fine. And she wanted to rail toward the heavens. Abigail whatever her last name was had given up Abel Weaver, and Reba had found him. It wasn’t fair that she could waltz back in and snatch him away. It just wasn’t fair. But Reba could tell from the look in his eyes what his decision would be. He had all but told her the night before that he was still in love with Abigail. And if she had come back to claim her love for him again . . .

  What was she saying? Of course Abigail was coming back for that. Why else would she drive all the way from Punxsutawney to Lancaster, if not to reclaim the love she’d thrown over once before?

  The saddest part of all for Reba was that they both knew that he would forget her. He would take Abigail back. He would move back to Punxsutawney. At least he would save Reba the heartbreak of having to see him day after day or even accidentally run into him in town. It was the only consolation she could offer her heart.

  The second miracle of the day was that she somehow managed to smile, conduct the last-day-of-school picnic, referee the softball game, and drive home without one tear. But by the time she pulled into her drive that afternoon, she knew that her time for breaking down was near. That was all she needed. One good evening to cry, pound her fists against the bed, and wonder at the unfairness of it all. Then tomorrow she would get up and . . .

  Well, she didn’t know what she would do. She would start to move on. She would start to live her life again. She would be Reba without Abel. She’d been Reba without Abel before; she could do it again.

  “Reba, is that you?” Mamm asked as she came in the front door.

  “Yes, Mamm.”

  “Do you want to—”

  But Reba didn’t wait around for the rest of the sentence. She headed up the stairs as quickly as possible and threw herself into her room. She collapsed onto the bed, the weight of trying to keep herself together all day finally taking its toll.

  Sobs racked her body as she gave in to her grief.

  “Reba?” Mamm pushed the door the rest of the way open and came in. Reba sat up, wiping her cheeks and pretending she hadn’t been crying her eyes out.

  “Child, what’s wrong?”

  Reba shook her head. “I just—I mean—Abel,” was all she could say.

  Mamm sat on the bed next to her and wrapped her arms around Reba’s shoulders. She laid her head in the crook of her mamm’s neck and sighed. For a moment she wished she were little again. She would crawl into her mamm’s lap and sit there completely surrounded by her mother’s love. But she was too big for that. And she would have to go on. She pulled back and wiped her tears once more.

  “His fiancée came today.”

  Mamm blinked. “He has a fiancée?”

  Reba shook her head. “She’s an ex, but he still loves her. And she wants him back.”

  “Don’t you think you should find out for sure before you completely give up hope?”

  “It’s not necessary,” Reba said. “We talked about her last night. About how we would take things slow because he wasn’t quite over their relationship yet. And now that she’s back . . .” Tears welled in her eyes once more.

  “Why? Why? Why?” she asked her mother, but she didn’t need to finish the rest of those questions. Why, after all this time, did she find love only to lose it? Why did love have to hurt so badly? And why was she never allowed a turn at love?

  Mamm wrapped her arms around Reba once more and rocked her back and forth. Sunday was a church day. Monday was the last day before the wedding, and Tuesday was Jess and Bernice’s big day. But for right now, Reba was going to cry.

  * * *

  It was nothing short of a miracle and a loving family that kept Abel at bay. She knew he’d come by the house a couple of times since that Friday, but her family had sent him away both times. She knew she would have to face him at some point. But she couldn’t face him now. Not yet. She still needed a little more time to mourn the loss of the relationship before she could pick herself back up and begin again. Only then would she be able to face Abel Weaver, hold her chin high, and tell him that it didn’t matter. That she wished for him to have the utmost happiness in the world. And if that happiness was with Abigail, then she wished him all the best. One day she would be able to tell him that. But today was not that day.

  Reba ran her hands over her apron and sea-colored dress. Sort of like the one Bernice had loaned her, this dress was not as bright as Reba’s old stuff, but definitely not as boring as the raisin hue of the dress she had made last week. What a fool she had been to think she should change for a man only to lose him to the very thing she was trying to become.

  No, today was not that day, because today was Jess and Bernice’s wed
ding day. The first day of June, so bright and pretty, a beautiful day to start a new life.

  There been that split second when Reba had thought that love would be for her, but now she knew it was not meant to be. Always an attendant but never a bride.

  “I don’t understand,” Lilly Ruth said. “Why isn’t Abel here?”

  Reba smoothed a hand over the young girl’s bob, making sure all the beautiful red hair was in place. “He’s not . . .”

  What could she say? He wasn’t really their friend? He surely acted like it. He wasn’t part of the family? He wasn’t invited to the wedding? But that didn’t seem to make sense, either. Maybe she should just tell Lilly Ruth that Abel didn’t love them after all. But that sounded harsh and bitter. And she didn’t want to be either.

  “Well?” Constance crossed her arms and calmly eyed her aunt.

  “I, uh . . .” Reba stuttered.

  “This is why you shouldn’t meddle.” Hope pointed a chastising finger at both of her sisters. By the way she was acting, a stranger would think that she was the oldest and not the middle child who normally tried to keep the peace.

  “He was our friend,” Lilly Ruth countered.

  Reba knelt down so she could look at her sweet niece straight ahead. “He was. And he probably still is.” She shook her head. “And he still is, but that doesn’t mean he will come to every family function we have.” What a disaster that would be! But the girls didn’t need to know that now. They didn’t need to know that once he was officially back with Abigail, he would more than likely move back to Punxsutawney and never set foot in Lancaster again. All that could wait for another day. Maybe when that time came, Constance, Hope, and Lilly Ruth wouldn’t be so enamored with Abel Weaver.

  “But we thought he liked you,” Constance protested.

  “Just because he’s not here doesn’t mean he doesn’t like me.” Reba did her best to explain.

  Lilly Ruth stomped one foot. “But we thought he liked you.”

  “You’re too young to worry about such things.” Reba had to push the words past the huge lump in her throat. She might not have Abel Weaver any longer, but she had three little girls who loved her beyond reason. She had a wonderful family, annoying brothers, and loving parents. She truly was blessed. Even if she ended up being an old maid, it wouldn’t matter. She had lived her life well-loved, even if she wasn’t loved by Abel.