She sank back against the seat. She was shaking, and she gripped her hands in her lap. She was more upset than she wanted to admit—than she would admit. When Ethan got in beside her, she smiled at him. “Thank you for a nice meal.”
“I’m sorry you had to see him,” Ethan said, picking up the reins. “If I’d known he was going to show up, we wouldn’t have come.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll see him around the district anyway. Please, don’t worry about it.” She marveled at how steady her voice was and was deeply grateful.
“Still…” He shook his head. “Bad timing.”
“Let’s go home,” she said, feeling the word on her lips, knowing that “home” meant someplace entirely different to her now. Wanting to reassure her new husband, she put her hand on his knee, and she felt him shiver. His gaze flew to hers, and he smiled.
“Thank you,” he said simply and put his attention on the road.
* * *
Over the next couple days, Ethan and Beulah got into a comfortable rhythm. Beulah surprised herself by falling into the role of wife and housekeeper with ease. Cleaning and cooking still weren’t her favorite things, but she found a feeling of contentment in the work she didn’t expect. She was nesting, she supposed. She knew pregnant women often got into a major nesting mode.
She grinned at herself as she wiped down the kitchen table. She’d made pancakes that morning, and Ethan had eaten six. Six. And they were big, too.
He was always down in the shop, where he spent the entire day, except when he came up for the noon meal. Every now and again, she went down to see if he needed any help with anything. He never did, but if there were no customers, she’d stay, and they’d chat.
She liked his mind. Liked the way he thought about things. He challenged her, and she found herself hungry for his opinions. His relationship with God was different. He treated God more like his friend, and not just like a heavenly being with all power and authority. She was quite sure the deacons would somehow find that scandalous, but she rather liked it. She’d even spent some time speaking with God herself as if she were talking to a friend. It was odd at first, and she was quite sure she’d be struck down. Instead, she felt lighter and happier and almost cherished.
The second week of their marriage, Ethan had gone one morning to the Feed & Supply to order some buggy parts. She stayed back, as she was busy painting a dresser for the baby’s room. She’d chosen a light rose color and was excited to bring some cheeriness to the white room.
She heard a buggy come into the lot and set her paint brush down, hurrying downstairs to the shop. She’d told Ethan she’d handle any customers who came his way. Her apron was spattered with paint, but she didn’t bother to remove it.
The door opened, and she was looking square into the eyes of Uriah.
“How could you?” he stormed, moving toward her. “You married him? Are you insane? How could you?”
“How could I?” she snapped back, quickly gathering her wits. “I’m pregnant. Or did you forget that small detail.”
“I told you what to do. You could have gone off, had the boppli, and returned. We could have gone on as before.” His eyes were spitting fire. “You love me, Beulah.”
She stared at him, not moving. And then she shook her head. “I did love you. I did. But not anymore.”
He stuck his face close to hers. “You can’t just turn it off.”
“Can’t I?” she retorted. “I think I can. Because that’s exactly what I’ve done.”
He was so close, she could smell him, breathe him in. That familiar smell. That familiar everything. For one mad second, she was transported back—back to the days when she would give anything, do anything, to be with him. To feel his lips on hers. To bury herself in his arms.
She blinked and took a step back.
“Go away,” she said. “We have nothing more to say.”
“We have plenty to say,” Uriah continued. “I’m not going to put up with this. You’re mine, Beulah. You’ve always been mine.”
His eyes had misted over, and Beulah gaped at him. Uriah didn’t cry. Ever. He grabbed her hand. “Please, Beulah. Stop this now.”
“Stop this?” she cried, her voice squeaking. “What are you talking about? I’m married.” Her eyes narrowed. “For real this time. I’m married, and I’m having a boppli, and Ethan is going to be a wonderful father—”
“The boppli’s mine,” Uriah said. “Just like you’re mine.”
“You didn’t want the boppli,” she said, her voice leveling off. “Don’t you remember? You didn’t want it.”
“Ethan won’t get away with this.”
“Get away with this…?” She stared at him. “Get away with what? Loving me? Loving my unborn boppli?”
“Love you? He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.”
She sucked in a deep breath and felt the trembling in her stomach. “He does love me.” And as she said it, she knew it to be true.
“Not like I do!”
She wanted to weep. “You’re right. You’re completely right, Uriah. Not like you at all. Ethan stepped up. He married me. He’s caring for me and the boppli.”
“I-I—”
“You, nothing,” she said, her voice now filled with deep sadness. “And what do you plan to do? Tell everyone the boppli’s yours?”
“I-I…”
“And then I can tell them how you didn’t want it? How you wanted to send me away. Is that your plan?” Her gaze didn’t waver.
His shoulders slumped. There was no way he would allow that, and he knew it.
“Go away, Uriah.”
“But I love you…” He put his hands on her shoulders, but she shook them off. “And you love me.”
“I did,” she whispered. “I did.”
He stood frozen in place, as if he couldn’t understand what was happening. As if nothing made sense. She stifled an urge to reach out and comfort him. But no. She wouldn’t ever comfort him again. They were over.
He backed away, and his eyes filled with tears. “Beulah…”
She turned and fled up the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ethan was almost home. To Beulah. He grinned. How he loved the thought—he was going home to Beulah. He rounded the curve before his shop and saw a buggy pull away from his lot. He must have just missed a customer. He got ready to wave and pull the buggy over, but then he saw the driver.
Uriah Umble.
His heart lurched. What was he doing there? Had Beulah asked him to come? But how? What had happened while he was gone? Uriah passed him and gave him a scathing stare that turned into a twisted sort of smile. Ethan felt sick to his stomach. What did it mean?
What had Beulah done?
He thought they were doing well. Right well, as a matter of fact. What did that smile mean? Had Uriah and Beulah done something? His throat closed in anguish.
No. No. He trusted Beulah. He did. She was amazing. Wonderful. Loving. But still. That smile of Uriah’s…
He’d ask her. She would tell him the truth. He was quite sure Beulah didn’t lie. She might be daring and impulsive and sometimes rebellious, but he was quite sure she didn’t lie.
He pulled into the lot and quickly took care of his horse. He hurried into his shop and straight up the stairs to his living quarters. He found Beulah in the kitchen. Her back was up against the counter, and she was staring into space. When he burst through the door, she gave a start and cleared her throat.
“You’re back,” she said and quickly busied herself with the dishes in the sink.
“I’m back.” Nausea swept through him. He approached her until he stood by her elbow. “What have you been doing?”
She gave him a sharp look. “Redding up the kitchen,” she said. “Did you get all your parts ordered?”
“Jah.” His throat was dry.
She wrung out the washrag and hung it over the faucet. “Gut. That’s gut.” She licked her lips, not m
eeting his eyes. “I think I’ll tidy up our room.”
Their room was perfectly tidy. She always made the bed as soon as her feet hit the ground. And there wasn’t much in there to get messy anyway. She was avoiding him, pure and simple.
He watched as she scurried away. And then it was him leaning against the counter, staring into space.
* * *
He knows, Beulah thought. He knows. She had seen it in his eyes during that split second when she’d actually looked at him. He must have seen Uriah leaving the lot. Ach, but what must he be thinking? What must he be wondering…
Why didn’t she just tell him about it? She had nothing to hide. Nothing to feel guilty about. Then why was guilt rushing through her with agonizing swiftness? Why?
Because you still have feelings for Uriah…
She sank down onto the bed—the bed she and her new husband shared. Of course, you still have feelings, she told herself. You’d be odd if you didn’t. You loved him for so long…
She tried to swallow past the tightness in her throat. It hurt. The tightness grew and a queasy feeling gripped her stomach. She was going to be sick—going to vomit. She jumped up and raced to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. When it was over, she sank down to the floor and rested her head against the pedestal of the sink.
She moaned and held her stomach. She heard footsteps and then Ethan was there.
“Beulah? You all right?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Jah. Fine.”
He quickly ran a wash cloth under the faucet and squeezed it out. He squatted beside her and gently washed her mouth. He tossed the cloth in the sink and looked at her.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” And she did feel some better. The queasiness was gone.
He took her arm and helped her up. “Why don’t you lie down a bit?”
She nodded. He took her into the bedroom and settled her into bed. “I know women in the family way get sick sometimes.” His eyes bore into hers. “Is that what this is?”
“Jah.”
“Do you want some tea?”
“Maybe later.”
“All right.” He straightened up and looked down at her, and she could see the turmoil in his eyes. He hesitated as if deciding whether to say something further. And then, he gave her a tender smile and turned to go. At the doorway, he paused. “If you need anything, holler.”
She doubted he’d hear her if she did. The shop wasn’t exactly within hollering distance from their bedroom. But it was sweet of him to say so.
“I will.”
And then he left. She heard his footsteps fading on the stairs and closed her eyes. She would tell him what had happened with Uriah later. Right then, she was suddenly beyond exhausted. Within moments, she was sound asleep.
* * *
That same day, the noon meal was awkward. Beulah could tell Ethan was making a great effort to lighten things by sharing about the two customers he’d had that morning. He embellished the events with silly anecdotes, and Beulah laughed at the right moments, but it was forced.
When Ethan took his last bite, he said, “Thank you, Beulah. It was a delicious meal.”
“Not really,” she countered. “I slept too long this morning and didn’t even have time to make the biscuits.”
“It was fine without them.”
She tipped her head. “Maybe.”
“Well, I’ll be going back down to the shop.” He stood and pushed in his chair at the head of the table.
She swallowed. “Uriah came by this morning,” she blurted.
He didn’t move. “Oh?”
“But then, you already knew, ain’t so?” She watched him.
His cheeks grew red, and he nodded.
“Why didn’t you ask me about it?” she questioned.
He sat back down. “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.”
She took a huge breath. “I didn’t know he was coming.”
She saw his shoulders sag with relief. What had he been telling himself all morning?
“I see.”
“He’s angry.”
“I’m not surprised.”
She looked down at her hands, not knowing what else to say. When she raised her gaze to his, she saw he was studying her, his expression pained.
“Do you regret it?” he asked, his voice so low, she could hardly hear it.
“What?” she cried. “Regret marrying you?”
He nodded.
“Nee. Of course not.”
But he didn’t look convinced. She stood and stepped closer to him. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Why would I regret it?”
He shrugged. “Because you love him and not me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
She frowned. “Don’t be putting words in my mouth,” she countered. “I can speak for myself.”
She wasn’t in the habit of having someone speak for her, and she didn’t like it.
“But there it is,” he said.
“There what is,” she asked, exasperated. “Maybe the better question is, do you regret it?”
He grabbed her hand. “Nee, I don’t. But then, I wasn’t in a courtship with another person when we married.”
“You knew—”
“Jah, I did.”
“Then you can’t keep throwing it in my face,” she told him, taking her hand from his. “It’s not fair to me.”
“It isn’t,” he said slowly, “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t change what happened before. I can’t. I wish I could.” She looked down at her stomach and placed her hand on it as if protecting her baby. “Not that I don’t want this boppli. It’s real to me now, Ethan. After I was sick this morning, it’s real to me.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she swiped at them. She hated this propensity to weep at every turn. It showed weakness, which she hated.
“It’s becoming real to me, too,” he said. “But, I— Well, I want this boppli to be mine. Yours and mine. Not yours and Uriah’s.”
“I can’t change—”
“Nee,” he interrupted her. “I know that. That’s not what I mean. I mean in your heart. I want the boppli to be yours and mine in your heart.”
She blinked and let his words, the meaning in them—the anguish in them, settle in her mind, and she understood.
“It is ours,” she whispered. “Yours and mine.”
His eyes misted over, and he grabbed her hand again. “No regrets?”
“I would marry you again, Ethan Miller. I would.” She bent down and lay her head on his shoulder.
He pulled her onto his lap and held her tightly against his chest.
“Ach, Beulah,” he whispered into her neck.
“Ethan?” she murmured.
“Jah.”
“I mean it. No regrets.”
“I won’t ask again,” he told her.
She stood and took his hand, pulling him up. “We’re going to make it just fine,” she said, and in her heart, she knew it was true. She knew Uriah would always be part of her, and she couldn’t cut away their past. But he wasn’t who she’d thought he was. It was like she’d been in love with a mirage. He’d rejected her when she’d needed him the most. And that would never change.
Ethan had been there when she’d needed someone. She would never forget it, and she would forever admire and respect him for it. Now, she looked up into his eyes and smiled. She was half in love with him already.
“Want to go take a rest with me?” she asked him.
His brow rose. “Now? In the middle of the day?”
“Now. In the middle of the day,” she responded.
He laughed then, a sound full of amusement and relief. He caught her up in his arms and carried her down the hall.
Epilogue
Sometimes, I can’t wrap my head around how quickly the days pass.
Amy had a little girl—a sister for Susie. She and Andrew named her Lilly. She’s a cute thing, with big brown eyes and
a tuft of blond hair. Amy claims Lilly smiled when she was but a week old. Of course, all of us knew she didn’t, but we weren’t about to try and dissuade her. Mamm and Dat were over the moon about their new granddaughter. Mamm practically moved in with Amy after the birth.
Two months later, Ethan and I welcomed Johnathan Elias into our family. What a blustery little man we have. He came out a-hollering. Old Mae chuckled and told me he was going to be a handful. I don’t mind. I was pretty much of a handful myself—I figure it’s only fair. Ha! Ethan is crazy about Johnathan. I watch them together and my heart soars. Ethan couldn’t be more Johnathan’s father than if they were related by blood.
I wondered whether Mamm and Dat would be as excited about Johnathan as they were about Lilly—considering the circumstances. But I needn’t have worried. They are both smitten with little J. Mamm simply moved from Amy’s house to ours. Not really, since our home above the shop is so much smaller than Amy’s. But Mamm was here for some portion of every day those first weeks, and I appreciated it.
It’s been an adjustment to have a little human so dependent on me. I’m the only one who can feed him, so my time is pretty much his. I thought I would dislike it, but I don’t. Mamm tells me I’ve taken to motherhood, and no one can mistake the sound of surprise in her voice when she says it. I’m not offended, because I’m as surprised as she is.
I don’t see Uriah Umble much. In truth, that suits me just fine. It’s odd how my feelings have changed. The anger has faded and now when I think of him—which isn’t very often—I mostly just feel sad. Sad for him. I suppose there’s some love in me for him yet, but there’s no passion in it, no drive. Even that seems sad.
Uriah has seen Johnathan. He could hardly help it when Ethan shows him off at every turn. Not that Ethan showed him off to Uriah directly—of course not. But after the preaching services, you can be sure Ethan is holding J, parading him around like a proud papa peacock.
I watched Uriah’s face the first time he saw J. At first, his expression was full of curiosity, but then, I saw twinges of remorse and envy. No one else would see that in Uriah’s expression, because he’s a master at hiding his feelings when he wants to. But I know him too well, and I saw it. Then his gaze flashed to me, and he knew I had seen through him. He gave me a desperate sort of look and then turned and walked away.
The Buggy Shop (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 14