An Amish Match

by Jo Ann Brown

“Danki, Rebekah, for agreeing. I should have said that before.”

  “There is no reason to thank me. It is what’s for the best for the kinder.” She didn’t add that it was the best choice for her, as well.

  God, am I being selfish? I don’t want Sammy to suffer any longer for the sins of his daed. Sammy deserves to be happy and secure. And so do I.

  That last thought startled her. For so long she had listened to Lloyd telling her how worthless she was. Only her determination to remain strong for her son and her faith that God would never stop loving her as Lloyd had, had kept her from believing his cruel words.

  Not tonight. She wasn’t going to let the memory of Lloyd intrude tonight when she sat beside Joshua while they followed the moonlight along the otherwise deserted road. The steady clip-clop from the horse provided a rhythmic undertone to the chirps of the peepers. Lightning bugs twinkled like earthbound stars, creating flashes of light in the darkness.

  It seemed too soon when they entered their driveway and came to a stop by the dark house. Beyond the trees lights glowed in the Grangers’ house, but in the buggy they were enveloped in soft shadows.

  “Rebekah?”

  At Joshua’s whisper, she looked at him. His lips brushed hers, tentative and giving her a chance to pull back. She didn’t want to. His lips were warm and tasted of the fudge some of the women had been selling at the auction. Or were his lips always so sweet? She pushed that silly thought from her mind as she put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.

  He slanted her closer to him, holding her tenderly. He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose before finding her lips again. Her fingers sifted up through his hair, discovering it was just as soft as she’d imagined. But she’d never imagined how wunderbaar his kisses would be while they lit the dark corners of her heart, banishing the fear and the contempt. Joy danced through her and she melted against him.

  At the sound of the kinder stirring in the back, he lifted his mouth from hers. She curved her fingers along his face, savoring the variety of textures. She had so many things to say, but not when the youngsters were listening.

  She couldn’t wait until she had a chance to tell Joshua of the state of her heart and how she had come to trust him as she hadn’t thought she ever could trust any man again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Do you want us to carry those bags?” asked Debbie when the buggy stopped under the tree at the edge of the yard early the following Friday.

  “I’d appreciate that.” Rebekah struggled to smile as the little girl handed a bag of groceries to her brother before picking up the other one.

  Last night Rebekah had been awakened by a low, steady ache near the base of her spine. Whether she shifted to her side or her back, she hadn’t been able to find a comfortable position. Sleeping had been impossible, so around midnight she’d gotten up and worked on mending more of the kinder’s clothing. It was something she could do quietly and without much light, because her fingers had guided her stitches around a hem or a patch.

  Now she was so exhausted it felt as if she were wading through knee-deep mud with each step. The idea of getting out of the buggy seemed too much. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and nap away the rest of the day and maybe tomorrow and the day after.

  Nonsense! The best way to stay awake was to keep busy. Otherwise she might not be able to sleep again tonight.

  And maybe tonight there would be a chance for her and Joshua to talk. Every other evening since the auction, either he or she had been busy. Sammy had started resisting going to bed without her being there until he went to sleep. He was frightened after what he’d witnessed with Lloyd’s brothers. She thanked God that her son wouldn’t have to have much to do with that family from this point forward.

  As she got out of the buggy, she motioned for Levi to follow his sister and Sammy into the house. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of Benny and the buggy.” She glanced at the clouds building up along the western horizon. “Will you ask Sadie to bring in the laundry? And please ask Debbie to cut up some of the fruit we bought and make us a salad with the berries you picked yesterday.”

  He nodded. She was grateful for Sadie’s help because she was finding it more difficult with each passing week to hang out the wash and take it down. Last time she’d done laundry, three pieces of clothing had fallen on the grass, and she’d had to ask Sammy to collect them. It was impossible to find the basket by her feet.

  Her feet? She almost laughed. She hadn’t seen them in so long she doubted she’d recognize her own toes any longer.

  She unhooked the horse and led Dolly toward the barn. She wasn’t sure how bad the storm was going to be, and she knew Dolly didn’t like getting wet. She’d put her in a stall until the rain passed. After that Levi could let the mare out into the pasture. The horse had taken a liking to the boy and vice versa.

  The air in the barn was heavy. She made sure the horse had plenty of water, and she thought about having a lovely cold glass of lemonade.

  She shut the stall door and turned to leave. Sunlight glinted off something on the floor near a discarded horse blanket. She went to check, not wanting one of the horses to pick up a nail in a hoof.

  She started to bend to check the shiny object, then laughed. Hadn’t she been thinking that bending was impossible? Squatting was almost as difficult without something to assist her to her feet. She considered calling one of the kinder to help her, or she could wait until Joshua came home.

  Her eyes were caught by the extra wheel leaning against the stall’s wall. She could use it to help her. Checking that it would not tumble over when she grasped it, she chuckled.

  “Lord, you keep me humble by reminding me that I can’t do everything.” She chuckled again and put her hand on the wheel. She hunkered and reached for the glistening piece of metal.

  Her laughter disappeared as she realized it wasn’t a piece of metal, but a metal can. Connected to five other metal cans. A six-pack of beer. A brand that must be popular among Englischers because she’d seen large trucks with the beer’s name passing through Paradise Springs.

  Her stomach heaved, and she feared she was going to throw up. Lloyd had hidden his stash of beer in the barn. Icy shudders thudded along her, battering away the happiness and contentment she had felt seconds ago.

  Had Joshua hidden it here so she wouldn’t suspect that he drank as Lloyd had? Her stomach twisted again. She’d thought she’d smelled liquor on Joshua’s clothing while doing laundry. Since that day she’d convinced herself that she hadn’t really smelled it, that it’d been her imagination or one of the lacquers Joshua used at the buggy shop.

  Was this all the beer or was there more?

  Rebekah shoved the six-pack under the blanket and then pushed herself to her feet. At the best speed she could manage, she went to the house, not even pausing to answer when Sadie called out a greeting. The kinder looked up when she came in. She rushed past where Debbie was slicing fruit and the boys were watching with eager anticipation.

  “Are you looking for something?” asked Levi.

  “Ja,” she replied.

  “Can we help?” the ever-helpful Debbie asked.

  “Watch Sammy. Make sure he eats with a spoon, not his fingers. I’ll be right back.” She threw open the cellar door. “I need to get...” Her brain refused to work, stuck on the image of that beer in the barn. Shaking herself, she said, “I need to get a couple of bottles of your grossmammi’s pickles for supper.”

  “Let me carry them up for you.” Levi stuck out his thin chest. “Daedi asked us to help you when Sadie is busy doing something else.”

  Tears flooded her eyes. She longed to put her arms around these darling kinder and hug them so tightly while she kept the evils of the world away from them. To do so would create more questions. Questions she couldn’t answer until she had more facts
. Accusing their daed of being as weak as Lloyd would hurt them as deeply as it had her.

  “Danki, but I think I can manage. I’ll call if I need help.” She hoped her smile didn’t look as grotesque as it felt. “Ja?”

  “Ja,” he replied, but she didn’t miss the anxious glance he shared with his sister.

  Thankful that Sammy was too young to take notice of anything but his sandwich, Rebekah hurried down the stairs before one of the kinder could ask another question. She picked up the flashlight from the shelf by the steps and went to the shelves where fresh jars of fruit had been stored in neat precision along with the ones she’s brought from Lloyd’s farm. A gasp sent a pain through her. The only sanctuary she had from another alcoholic husband was that farm and now it was gone.

  Why, God, did You let me discover this after the farm was sold? The pain burst out of her in a single, painful blast.

  She couldn’t blame God for a man’s weaknesses. She did, however, blame herself for not seeing any signs that Joshua hid beer as Lloyd had. Even looking back over the past months, she couldn’t recall a single clue that would have tipped her off. Other than that Joshua had been Lloyd’s best friend, and they’d spent time together fishing and hunting. Had they been drinking together, too?

  Spraying light over the shelves, she looked but didn’t see anything that wasn’t supposed to be there other than a few spiders. She lowered the flashlight, so the beam narrowed to a small circle on the concrete floor. There were other places where beer or a bottle of liquor could be hidden, but she couldn’t squeeze past the shelves to reach them. At that thought, she aimed light through the shelves. She saw tools and what looked like cast-off furniture against the stone foundation, but everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. If it had been disturbed recently, she saw no sign.

  Looking up at the ceiling, she wondered if there was a place in the attic where cans or bottles could be hidden. Lloyd had put his beer there once. A cold snap had frozen the beer and shattered the bottles, making a mess that he’d refused to clean up. She recalled the ignominy of washing the floorboards on her hands and knees while pregnant with Sammy. Rather than being grateful, Lloyd had walked out and hadn’t come back for almost a week, lamenting how he’d run out of money.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around herself and her unborn kind.

  God, I thought Joshua was a gut man. I dared to let him into my heart, believing that You wanted me to share his life. What do I do now?

  There was one more place to check. Lloyd often put his beer in the well house because the water stored in the tank kept it cold.

  Her lower back ached more with each step she took up the stairs, but Rebekah didn’t slow when she reached the kitchen. Again she was aware of the anxiety on the kinder’s faces. She wished she could say something to comfort them, but she wouldn’t lie to them.

  Sadie was bringing in a basket of laundry and nearly collided with Rebekah. Waving aside the young woman’s apology, Rebekah hurried around the side of the house to where the small well house contained the diesel pump and a holding tank for water. The walls were built with slats so fumes wouldn’t build up inside.

  After going in, she waited for her eyes to adjust. As soon as they did, she saw sunlight glinting off more metal. She leaned against the slatted walls and wrapped her arms around her belly as if she could protect her unborn kind from what was right in front of her eyes.

  Five six-packs of beer.

  She’d never seen such a collection. Lloyd seldom had had more than two or three six-packs on the farm at any one time. Or at least as far as she knew. Why would Joshua want enough beer for a dozen people?

  Her eyes widened. What if the beer didn’t belong to Joshua? Maybe she was jumping to conclusions about her husband. What if the cans belonged to Timothy? The teenager was so moody, leaping from cheerfulness to sullen scowls in a single breath. Lloyd had been like that, too, especially contentious when his head ached as he suffered yet another hangover.

  She looked down at the six-packs. Timothy went out by himself in the family buggy on Saturday nights. How easy it would be for him to retrieve the beer and hide it beneath the backseat so even if his daed or another adult stopped to talk to him the beer would go unnoticed. She had no idea how many members were in his running-around gang, but she knew the gatherings often included a mix of Amish and Englisch teens.

  So whose beer was it?

  Rebekah waited impatiently for Joshua and Timothy to get home. As soon as they did, she went out into the shimmering heat to meet them. Her husband waved as he led Benny into the barn because the slow-moving storm seemed ready to pounce on them.

  “Timothy,” she said as the teenager started across the yard in the direction of the Grangers’ house, “I need to talk with you.”

  “It’ll have to wait. I’m already late.”

  “Late for what?”

  He stopped and frowned. It was the expression he usually reserved for his daed, but she wouldn’t let it halt her from saying what she must.

  “Timothy, it’ll take only a second.”

  “It’ll have to wait.” His voice got louder on each word until she was sure their neighbors could hear. “I’m going out with friends. I told Daed last night. He said it was okay for me to go out on a Friday night as long as I get my chores done tomorrow. Why are you grilling me like I’m some sort of criminal?”

  Rebekah hardly considered a single question an interrogation, but her voice had been forceful. All she could think of were those cans of beer. She needed to know the truth. She’d heard about boys racing their buggies when they were intoxicated and how they ended up paralyzed or worse.

  “Timothy—”

  “Leave me alone!” He stamped away.

  * * *

  Joshua came out of the barn and looked in the direction of his son’s angry voice. What was distressing Timothy now? When he saw his son striding away with Rebekah trying to keep up with him, he was astonished. Timothy had never raised his voice to her before. Not like this.

  They stopped and his son jabbed a finger in Rebekah’s direction. His gut twisted when he noticed how she didn’t flinch away as she did too often when he reached toward her.

  Timothy stepped back when Joshua approached. Fury twisted his son’s face, and Rebekah’s was long with despair.

  Joshua didn’t get a chance to ask what was wrong because Timothy snapped, “She’s your wife. Tell her to stop trying to run my life. She’s not my mamm, and even if she was I’m sixteen and I don’t need her poking her nose into my business.” He stormed past Joshua and into the trees that divided the two houses.

  Joshua started to call after him but halted when Rebekah said, “Let him go.”

  “Why? He owes you an apology for speaking like that.”

  “No, I owe him one.”

  Her words kept him from giving chase after his son. “Why?”

  “I wanted to ask him something, and I pushed too hard. He’s right. I’m not his mamm.”

  “But you are my wife. He should respect that.”

  “He’s sixteen, Joshua.”

  “A gut reason for him to know he needs to respect his elders.”

  Her smile was sad, and she stared at the ground. “And there’s the crux of the problem. He doesn’t think of me as his elder. Oh, sometimes I’m sure he thinks I’m too old to recall what it’s like to be sixteen. At other times, he thinks I’m too young to be his mamm. Either way, he doesn’t believe I have the right to tell him what to do.”

  “I’ll talk to him.” He started to put his arm around her, but she flinched. As she had when she’d first come to live at his house. He watched in disbelief as she widened the distance between them. She hadn’t acted like this since the auction. What had changed?

  “I don’t think it matters,” she said with
a sigh. “Timothy isn’t going to tell me the time of day at this point. Let me see if I can mend fences with him before you get involved. I don’t want him to think we’re siding together against him.”

  He nodded reluctantly. His son needed to show Rebekah respect, but trying to talk sense to Timothy when they both were upset might make matters worse in the long run. But didn’t Rebekah owe him the truth, too, about why she was again acting as skittish as a doe?

  He couldn’t ask. Not when her color was a strained gray beneath her summer tan. He urged her to come inside and allow him to get her something cool to drink.

  Maybe later she would tell him why she suddenly found his touch abhorrent.

  Please, God!

  * * *

  A crash reverberated through the house, and Joshua sat up in bed. Rain splattered on the window, but that hadn’t been thunder. It had been louder and much closer.

  He leaped out of his bed and banged his head on the slanted ceiling. He rubbed the aching spot but didn’t slow as he raised the shade on the window.

  At the end of the driveway a car was stopped. Its lights were at an odd angle, one aiming up into the trees and the other on the grass. It couldn’t be on the road any longer.

  He grabbed his boots and shoved his bare feet into them. He threw open his door. When Debbie peeked sleepily out of her room, he ordered her in a whisper to go back to bed and stay there. He didn’t want her to wake her brothers who were heavier sleepers. Even more important, he didn’t want her to follow him out to the car in case someone was badly hurt.

  His boots clumped on the stairs and he realized he should have laced up their tops to hold them on more tightly. Too late now to worry about waking up Rebekah and Sammy.

  “Joshua?” he heard as he reached the bottom step.

  Rebekah stood in the bedroom doorway. She wore a sweater over her nightgown. It could not reach across her distended belly, but she tugged at it.

  He reached for the door. “There’s a car at the end of the drive. Its lights are shining all wrong.”