Ethan felt cheerful. Light-hearted. Good. So good, in fact, he couldn’t stay put. He’d worked all morning in his new shop and home and now wanted to explore his new community a bit. He hitched up his buggy and drove it up and down the country roads. He tried to determine who lived in which farm. He recognized some of the places, but not most of them. He grinned. Soon, he’d know everyone’s rig well, and he’d be able to recognize who lived where just by seeing their buggies.
He liked it here. Liked it right fine. And the people were amazing. So kind and generous. His entire home was furnished because of their generosity.
Up ahead, he saw the entrance to Edmund’s Pond. He’d heard it was the perfect place for courting and for fishing. He chuckled. What a combination. Without trying, his mind went immediately to Beulah. He wanted to court her, wanted to bring her to this pond and wander the paths together. But there was something stopping her. Something blocking his chances with her.
It had to be that Uriah fellow. She claimed they were over, but if they were, why wasn’t she free to court? He frowned. Maybe she wasn’t interested. He thought she was. Surely, she felt the zapping energy between them.
Or, maybe not.
He pulled his buggy to a halt in the wide patch of dirt in front of the pond. It really was a beautiful setting. He secured his reins and got out. He stretched his arms over his head and took a deep breath. Someday, he’d bring a picnic with him—it was the perfect place for one.
With Beulah. Yes, a picnic with Beulah.
He shook his head at his own thoughts and started to walk down the path on the west side of the pond. He hadn’t gotten far when he spotted something strange. He paused, staring. It looked like a person, lying in a huddle in the grass. He sucked in a breath.
Were they all right? Were they hurt? He ran forward. It was a woman—all curled into a ball. Truly alarmed now, he ran closer and then he gasped.
Beulah?
Was she all right?
He bent down and touched her shoulder. “Beulah?”
Her face was swollen, and her eyes looked puffy. What had happened here? Had someone hurt her? Had Uriah Umble hurt her?
“Beulah!”
She jerked beneath his hand, and her eyes flew open.
“What? What?” She stared up at him and then scrambled to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
She looked around as if lost. He grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong, Beulah? What’s happened to you?”
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Nothing. I-I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he said, concern filling him. She looked frightened. He never thought he would see her look frightened. He wanted to take her into his arms, hold her, keep her safe. But from what? What had happened?
She brushed off her dress and attempted a laugh. It came out flat and forced.
“You’ve been crying.”
She shook her head. “Nee. I haven’t. I’m fine.”
“You’re not telling me the truth. Has someone hurt you?” He leaned down to look her in the eye.
“Nee.” She visibly swallowed. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“Beulah…”
She averted her eyes and tried again to laugh. “I guess I lost track of time. Goodness, but I’d better be going.”
“Is that bike back there yours?”
She nodded.
“So, you just came to Edmund’s Pond to take a nap?” he asked, keeping his voice even. Why was she lying to him? But then, why should she tell him what had happened to her? They were hardly close friends.
Her lower lip quivered and for a moment, he thought she was going to burst into tears, but she didn’t. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and faced him. “I didn’t come to take a nap. I came to … to get away. I fell asleep, which I didn’t intend to do.”
He was silent for a long moment. And then he said, “I’m sorry, Beulah. I didn’t mean to sound like I was judging you or even pressuring you for an explanation.” He blew out his breath. “I was worried is all. When I saw you lying there, it scared me.”
“Scared you?”
He chuckled and shrugged. “I thought… I, well, I was worried.” She was so beautiful standing there looking at him, her expression vulnerable despite her best efforts. He had to force himself not to take her into his arms. Force himself to keep his hands to his sides. “You can tell me, you know.”
“Tell you?”
“Tell me whatever it is that’s troubling you.”
“I’m not troubled,” she said quickly.
“But you are. I’m a gut listener.”
He watched her face, watched the emotions play over it. She was upset, deeply so—no matter what she claimed. He thought he saw her weaken, like she would tell him what was wrong, and he nearly breathed out in relief. But then, she stiffened—the urge had passed.
“Please,” he said, and his voice wasn’t begging. It was soft and gentle and worried.
Her face crumpled and tears filled her eyes. “I can’t…” She drew in a deep, gulping breath. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not? What rule is there?” He smiled at her. “You don’t like rules, anyway, do you?”
For a split second, he thought she might laugh, but she didn’t. She sucked in another deep breath and turned away from him. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, so she faced him again. “What is it, Beulah? Maybe, I can help.”
“The only way you can help me is if you marry me tomorrow!” she cried. A look of horror covered her face, and she jerked away from him and started running away, but he caught her.
“What? What do you mean?” he asked, grabbing her arm. And then, it dawned on him. She was in trouble. The oldest kind of trouble. “Who was it?” he asked, feeling sick to his stomach. “Uriah.”
She nodded, staring at the ground. “I-I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have… Please, forget it. Forget I said anything.”
“Forget it?” he asked. “How in the world can I?”
She looked at him through her tears. “You can, and you will. We don’t know each other. This has nothing to do with you. I’m fine. Or, I will be. Gut-bye, Ethan.”
She turned away again, and this time, he didn’t stop her. He dropped his hand from her arm and watched her walk to her bicycle, her shoulders back, her chin raised high. She was a stubborn, proud thing, and she was in deep trouble. Anger toward Uriah boiled in his heart. How dare he hurt her. And the goat must have rejected her. Why else was she sobbing in the grass?
His fists clenched at his sides.
Scum. Uriah Umble was scum.
Beulah was gone, having ridden away with startling speed. He blew out his breath in a heavy sigh and made his way back to his buggy. His earlier euphoria was gone. In its place was a heaviness that pressed on his shoulders.
What was she going to do? There weren’t many choices for an Amish girl in her situation. Would she leave?
She’d have to, wouldn’t she? If Uriah wouldn’t step up. What kind of rotten man would desert his girlfriend like that? And why did Beulah fancy him in the first place? She seemed much smarter than that. He shook his head. If she left…
A sudden rush of loneliness filled him—a deeper loneliness than he’d ever felt. When he got lonely, he could usually quell it by heading for the store or going over to a neighbor’s place. But this felt different. More pointed. Focused.
Because he didn’t want Beulah to leave Hollybrook. He realized she was entwined deeply in his love for his new home. He climbed into his buggy. What had he gotten himself into? He had no interest in loving someone who was in such a mess. And besides, her heart wasn’t free, was it? It had to be embroiled with Uriah somehow. There was no way a girl like Beulah would have… Well, would have allowed herself to…
He could hardly bring himself to think about it, but his mind refused to budge.
The only way you can help me is if you marry me tomorrow.
He certainly wasn’t going to do that
. No, he wasn’t. For sure and for certain, he wasn’t.
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, Ethan paced his front room. His mother used to laugh when his father did that. “You’re going to wear a hole in the rug,” she’d tease.
Considering the fact he hadn’t stopped pacing for the last two hours, he was surprised his rug was intact at all. He hadn’t slept much the night before. A couple hours maybe. And even those were fitful. He simply couldn’t wipe the image of Beulah’s swollen face and puffy eyes from his mind. He couldn’t stop hurting for her. Couldn’t stop being angry at Uriah. Couldn’t stop wishing things were different.
Wishing Beulah was free for him to love.
Well, isn’t she? he questioned himself. She’s painfully free. Agonizingly free.
His paced to his kitchen window and looked out over the parking lot in front of his place. He already loved the view. Loved the maple trees bordering the lot. Loved the loose gravel in the parking area. Loved the planters Ezekiel had placed near the road—even if they were empty of flowers. He’d planned to have Beulah give him advice on that. The Yoders had beautiful flower gardens at their place. He somewhat suspected Beulah didn’t have much to do with them; but still, she would know something about it, wouldn’t she?
He glanced over at the cook stove and realized with dismay that he was imagining her standing there, cooking the noon meal for them. Laughing and talking and bringing up her latest opinions—which would border the scandalous sometimes. He loved that about her. How she thought whatever she wanted to think. How she bravely went places in her mind that most girls didn’t.
How do you know that? he questioned himself harshly. You don’t know her.
But he did. He did know her. He was somehow connected to her. Somehow bound to her. He gripped the kitchen counter and moaned. What have you gotten yourself into? he asked for the hundredth time.
He needed to stop thinking about her. Stop dreaming about her.
Stop wanting her.
He huffed out his breath and grabbed his straw hat from the counter. Smashing it down on his head, he went outside to see to his horse. This wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. He had to get ahold of himself. Had to control his thoughts. Think things through logically.
But it was no good. There was no logic involved. He was crazy about the girl. Head over heels crazy.
He hitched up his horse and started down the road.
* * *
“Land’s sake,” Fiona cried as she pulled back the curtains to peer out the kitchen window. “We’ve got company at this hour.”
Beulah put down the platter of eggs she was carrying and went to stand beside her mother.
“Who is that?” Fiona asked.
Beulah’s eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath. Ethan Miller? What in the world was he doing there? Dread gushed through her. Was he there to see her parents? To tell them what he knew?
“I’ll see to it,” she said quickly, rushing from the room. She flew out the front door and was down the steps before he pulled to a stop.
“Ethan,” she said sharply through the buggy window. “What are you doing here?”
He gave her a dazed look, almost as if he had no idea how he’d gotten there. “I-I want to talk to you.”
She shook her head. “Nee. You can’t. Nee. There’s nothing to say.”
“Get in,” he said.
“I won’t!”
“Get in,” he told her again. His expression was like steel.
She hesitated. If she didn’t get in, would he march into the house and tell her mother what was going on?
“Beulah,” he said, “I mean it. Get in.”
She got in. He snapped the reins, and they headed down the drive and onto the road. She stared at his profile. He would not look at her and his face was set with such grim determination that for a moment, she was frightened—which didn’t last long. Anger quickly took its place.
“You can’t be bossing me around,” she snapped. He still wouldn’t look at her. She pressed herself against the seat and scowled. Who did he think he was, treating her with such gruffness? He was nothing to her.
Nothing…?
Hardly. She glared at him, willing him to look at her, but he didn’t. His eyes were fixed straight ahead.
“Mamm is going to wonder what you’re doing,” she finally said.
“Let her wonder.”
Beulah raised her brow. Despite herself, she was intrigued. Curious. And a tiny bit in awe. He drove them straight to Edmund’s Pond and pulled his buggy into the wide spot of dirt and stopped. Then he did look at her, and she couldn’t read what was in his eyes.
“You going to tell me what this is about?” she asked, making sure her voice was strong and sure.
“Jah, I am.” He took a deep breath and his features softened for a brief second, and then went back to being stiff. “We’re getting married.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Yesterday you said, ‘The only way you can help me is if you marry me tomorrow.’” He smiled now. “It’s tomorrow. We’re getting married.”
Her mouth dropped open. She was rarely surprised by people, but right then, she was totally stunned. “Y-you have to be joking.”
“Why would I joke? I want to marry you.”
“W-why?”
“You need a husband, and I am ready to have a wife.”
Beulah was so flustered, she couldn’t speak. She opened the buggy door and was about to get out, when he grabbed her arm.
“Don’t get out,” he said. “We need to make plans.”
“I’m not marrying you,” she cried. “You’re crazy.”
“Am I?”
She stared at him. “Of course, you are. You don’t love me, and you’re not responsible for the mess I’m in.”
“Is Uriah going to marry you?” he asked pointedly.
She swallowed. “Nee,” she murmured.
“Then I will.”
Her forehead creased into a hundred wrinkles. “But why?”
“I already told you why.”
“It wouldn’t be right, Ethan,” she said, her voice shaking. She gazed at his handsome face, at the fierceness in his eyes, at the way his jaw was set. And suddenly, ridiculously, she started to giggle.
His eyes went wide. “What’s so funny?”
She hadn’t the faintest idea what was so funny. But once she started to laugh, she couldn’t seem to stop. The giggles poured from her until she heard them change into something akin to hysteria.
And then he pulled her to him, held her tightly, pressed her head against his shoulder. And she let him. Slowly, her laughter stopped, and her eyes filled with tears. He was a good man. A fine man. An admirable man.
And in truth, there weren’t a lot of people Beulah admired.
“Say you will,” he murmured against her kapp. “Say you’ll marry me.”
“You don’t love me,” she said, burying her face in his shirt—breathing deeply of him.
“I’m half there,” he admitted.
She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “You can’t be.”
He tilted his head and gazed at her. “But I am.”
She shook her head in wonder, and a tear slipped down her cheek. She reached up to brush it impatiently from her cheek. “You’re serious then?”
“Of course, I’m serious. We’ll get married today.”
“How?” Images of her previous “wedding” filled her mind. “It has to be done right,” she said quickly.
“We’ll go see the bishop. I’ll tell him I don’t want to wait.”
“He’s going to be suspicious.”
“I don’t care. His suspicions will be confirmed soon enough.”
Her face went hot. Everyone’s suspicions would be confirmed soon enough, once she started showing.
“But—”
He brushed another tear from her cheek. “But nothing. You’re not one to hang your head in shame, Beulah. I dare say you’v
e already confessed to Gott. And I imagine you’re ready to get on with things.”
How in the world did he know her so well? It made no sense at all. They’d spoken a half dozen times was all.
“I won’t give the boppli away,” she said, her voice firm. “That I know for sure and for certain.”
“Then marry me.” He smiled at her. “It will be my boppli then.”
She put her hand to her mouth. How was he so generous? So good?
“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “Will Uriah give us trouble?”
“Nee,” she said quickly. He wouldn’t. She’d make sure of it. And then she realized what she was thinking. She was going to do it. She was going to marry this amazing man before her, this man willing to take it all on.
“Then, there’s no issue. I will speak to the bishop.”
“Do you even know him?”
He shrugged. “Not much. I’m too new in the area. But I know he has a lot of respect for Andrew, and I’m kin.” He touched her cheek. “And kin matters.”
She nodded. “Jah. Kin matters.”
“I will come this afternoon,” he said. “Look for me.”
And with that, he hugged her and kissed her cheek. Then he picked up the reins, snapped them on his horse’s rump, and they were off. He let her out at the beginning of her drive, smiled at her, and was off. She watched him go, her fingers touching where he’d kissed her.
Look for me, he’d said.
There had been another day not all that long ago when another man had basically said the same thing. And she had waited and waited and waited. But Uriah hadn’t come. What gave her any certainty that Ethan would?
Because Ethan had more integrity? How could she really know?
She started back toward the house, slowly, her mind whirling. She had just told Ethan she would marry him. A real marriage, this time. She pressed her hand to her chest. Things were happening fast. So fast, she could hardly wrap her mind around them. She’d told Ethan that Uriah wouldn’t be a problem. But, would he? They had loved each other. Fiercely. For her part, it was so. For Uriah’s?
Ach, but she had believed Uriah. Trusted in him. Trusted in his love for her.
The Buggy Shop (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 11