“I shouldn’t even be talking about this private stuff—haven’t told another soul,” Rosalyn went on in a miserable rush. “But maybe you’ll wish you weren’t married to me when you find out that I don’t want to . . .”
Marcus gently placed his hand on hers. “You don’t want to be with a man? Because you’re afraid?”
Rosalyn swallowed hard. Nodded.
How did he handle this? He’d heard that some mothers instilled a fear of pregnancy in their unwed daughters, but he sensed Rosalyn’s mamm hadn’t intentionally done that . . . partly because her sisters seemed to be such happy wives and their husbands always wore satisfied smiles.
But Loretta and Edith are younger. Maybe they didn’t have a clue about their mother’s sad predicament.
Marcus wished he were older and wiser—and he wished Nora were here. But Rosalyn had entrusted her deep fear to him, and he prayed he could come up with an appropriate answer—especially after some of his glib comments in the past. “After that crude remark I made about horses and women a while back, I’m amazed that you still tolerate me,” he said ruefully. “I’m sorry I said that, Roz.”
Rosalyn sniffled loudly, as though she hadn’t heard him. “You’re my last chance, Marcus. It’s not like guys are pounding down my door, so if I want a family—”
How had their Christmas Eve banter deteriorated into such a lament? Marcus shifted his chair so he could put his arm around her. “That is so not true, Roz! You’re my last chance to become a decent human being—a guy worthy of the courtship you’re allowing me,” he pleaded.
He held her face in his hands and gazed into her sad brown eyes. “I don’t know what to say to make you feel better about sex, but if we trust each other—if we love each other, and listen to each other—we can make a beautiful life together, Roz. Can you believe that?”
She nipped her lip, but bless her, she didn’t look away. “I want to believe you, Marcus,” she whispered. “I—I know you’re nothing like Dat—”
“Denki for saying that,” he put in. “Maybe that’s where we start. Every marriage is different, so you’re not doomed to repeat your poor mamm’s experience, Roz. I’d rather cut off both my hands than hurt you—or force myself on you. I’m not wired that way.”
As Rosalyn held his gaze, Marcus dared to believe he saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes—the dawning of an understanding that would be the key to earning her trust. Her body relaxed. Her breathing returned to normal.
“What if we go for that long courtship you talked about—wait until a year from now to set our date, if you need to?” he asked softly. “I want you to love every part of what it’ll mean to be married to me.”
“A year’s a long time—”
“For you, Roz, I’ll wait,” he assured her. “It’ll give me time to save up money for a home and a family instead of expecting you to scrape by and make do, once you’re my wife.”
Rosalyn’s brown eyes widened. “You’re amazing, Marcus. There was a time I didn’t think you could hold a serious conversation, but—well, here we are.”
“Jah, here we are. Isn’t that something?” He suddenly felt ecstatic about the way their evening—and their lives—were turning out. “We’ve got candlelight and cookies and Christmas Eve, and we’ve got each other. Pretty awesome, isn’t it?”
When Rosalyn kissed him, Marcus had her answer.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Going once, going twice—sold for eight hundred dollars!” the auctioneer cried. “An Adam Wagler home remodeling project goes to those Detweiler brothers in the black hats!”
Rosalyn laughed along with everyone around her because about half the folks in Wyatt’s big barn matched that description of Asa and Drew. “The auctioneer’s having as gut a time as anybody,” she remarked to Marcus. “And he’s getting the bids up pretty high, too.”
“That’s Jude Shetler from Morning Star, and he’s being assisted by Bram Kanagy—who grew up in Willow Ridge but lives outside of Cedar Creek now that he’s married,” Marcus explained. “Wyatt and I have attended their livestock auctions, so we asked them to handle this one. I hear they’ve donated their services today, and I suspect Bishop Vernon had something to do with that.”
Rosalyn nodded. She didn’t dwell on the fact that Dat was the reason the church district needed to raise so much money—especially because Bishop Tom and Preacher Ben were coming through the crowd, and they appeared to be in high spirits.
“Doing a little remodeling, Asa?” Ben teased. “Always a worthwhile project, keeping your Edith happy.”
Asa laughed, glancing at Rosalyn and Marcus. “Truth be told, Drew and I are having the Riehl house repainted as our wedding gift to your cousin and his fiancée,” he replied. “We’re doing all we can to make an honest man out of Marcus and to convince him to stay in Willow Ridge.”
“Rosalyn’s way ahead of you!” Marcus shot back. He slung his arm loosely around her shoulders. “We’re taking our time about tying the knot—but having the house spiffed up for us is a wonderful gift.”
“Oh my,” Rosalyn whispered. “I can’t thank you enough. We asked Dat long ago if we could paint and put up new curtains, but he was having none of it.”
Bishop Tom’s smile fell a notch. When he’d learned that Dat had left town without fulfilling the obligations of his bann, Tom had explained to her and her sisters that their father was no longer a church member in good standing—and if he didn’t return to make amends, the next step would be excommunicating him.
The bishop quickly resumed his positive attitude, however. “Cornelius put us under a dark cloud, but we’re seeing the silver lining today,” he said, gesturing at the crowd. “Look at the way every family and business in Willow Ridge—and in the towns hereabouts—have donated their time and some big-ticket items to the auction! We’ve pulled together for the common gut—”
“And with the way the sale’s going,” Preacher Ben put in, “I predict that our aid fund will be nearly restored to its former amount. It’s the Lord’s hand at work—along with Rebecca’s advertising—bringing so many folks to bid on our items, too.”
Bishop Tom nodded. “And I couldn’t be happier about you two becoming a couple, by the way. Congratulations, kids.”
Rosalyn felt her face turning red, yet she was glad their news had been getting around town—mostly because Loretta and Edith couldn’t keep it to themselves. It was gratifying that folks seemed genuinely pleased for her and Marcus, and that they didn’t hold her father’s mistakes against her.
“Jah, we Hooleys are calling Rosalyn a miracle worker.” Ben’s tone was teasing, but his smile told her he was deeply grateful. “It’s the best sort of Christmas gift, to have a young man see the light—and it’s coming from a star instead of a computer screen.”
Rosalyn’s eyes widened as she turned to Marcus. When they’d talked over the past week, he’d said he was gradually going to wean himself away from his electronics. “Have you already given up your iPad and cell phone?” she whispered.
Marcus’s dimples deepened. “The auction seemed like a worthwhile cause to donate them to—”
“And over here, folks,” Jude Shetler announced with his microphone, “we have a red Chevy for your consideration. It’s got some miles on it and a touch of rust on the underbody—but it’s also got a new transmission, so it’ll be reliable transportation for a long while yet. Who’ll start the bidding for me?”
Rosalyn’s mouth dropped open. “You’re selling your car now, too?”
Marcus seemed pleased that he’d caught her by surprise. “In for a dime, in for a dollar,” he said as the auctioneer’s chant filled the barn. “In my line of work, I’ll always have access to fine horses, after all. Wyatt’s already promised me a pair of his retired Thoroughbreds as my bonus for staying on—and for becoming his ranch manager.”
“Glory be and hallelujah!” Preacher Ben crowed. “This calls for a trip to Cedar Creek to have James Graber fix you up with a new buggy
, young man—my treat,” he added. “It’s a happy day, hearing that you’re fully committing to the Old Order, when you could’ve gone a lot of other directions—or could’ve dragged your feet for a lot longer.”
Rosalyn’s thoughts were spinning after receiving so many surprises in the past few minutes. Christmas had been simple: she and her sisters hadn’t exchanged gifts, and she and Marcus hadn’t, either. Yet Marcus’s transformation—his willingness to change so drastically, for her—was a gift she would treasure every day for the rest of her life. If he was giving up the English technology and conveniences that had meant so much to him sooner than he’d planned, maybe she could believe what he’d told her . . .
You’re not doomed to repeat Mamm’s experience.
Rosalyn smiled. She’d thought about Marcus’s words several times over the past week and a half, as she’d gazed at the cornhusk angel he’d made for her.
You can be as happy as your sisters—or even happier! Give Marcus a chance—give him the intimacy he craves, when the time’s right—and you might find out that today’s surprises are nothing compared to the delight he’ll give you when you truly become one with him.
And besides that, the little voice in her head added, Marcus is so much cuter than your sisters’husbands.
Rosalyn laughed out loud—and realized she’d have to explain her outburst. Before any of the men around her could comment, she grabbed Marcus’s hand. “It’s time for pie and coffee at the café, because I’ve been on my feet since early this morning, helping the ladies over there. I’ll make it worth your while,” she added as she flashed her best smile at him.
Asa, Drew, and Ben laughed and whistled, slapping Marcus’s back—but he waved off their teasing as though hers was the only voice he could hear. When he and Rosalyn stepped outside the barn together, away from the excitement and noise of the auction, the relative silence of the winter day was soothing. Their boots crunched in the snow as they headed down Wyatt’s lane.
“So what’s really on your mind, Roz?” Marcus asked as he tucked her arm beneath his elbow. “Sure as I’m about to join the church, you’re not thinking about pie.”
Rosalyn chuckled. Maybe it was best to just lay it all out, instead of trying to be clever. She stepped ahead and turned to face him.
“I love you, Marcus,” she declared as she playfully held his gaze. “And I can’t wait to be your wife—in every sense of the word. If you can turn over a new leaf, so can I, ain’t so?”
The astonishment on his face—the joy—was an expression Rosalyn knew she’d remember forever. The way he grabbed her and kissed her was pretty memorable, too.
“You mean, like, you want to marry me now?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
She thought about her options. “Well, you need to complete your instruction with Bishop Tom and take your vows in church—”
“I’m on it!”
“—and we might as well wait until you have that buggy from Ben, and the house is all fixed up, so we’ll be a proper Amish couple,” Rosalyn continued.
Marcus kissed her again, right there in the middle of the road. “You go get us a table at the Grill N Skillet, and I’ll be there as soon as I tell Wagler he’s going to paint our place before he does a lick of work for anybody else!”
Rosalyn watched Marcus dash toward the barn—and then he turned around and came back. He put his hands at her waist and effortlessly lifted her into the air, until she was giggling and squealing. When he set her down, he pulled her close.
“Roz, you didn’t have to say that just for me—”
“Oh, I said it for me,” she assured him. “When you told me I didn’t have to be like my mother, you broke the spell of fear that she never intended to cast over me. You set me free with those words, Marcus.”
He gazed at her as though she was the most beautiful, most precious—and most amazing—woman he’d ever met. “I love you, too, Roz. You’re my star—my guiding light,” he said softly. “Nobody shines brighter than you.”
Rosalyn’s mouth opened but his eloquence had left her speechless.
Marcus kissed her again. “It’s going to be so gut between us. You’ll see!”
As he hurried toward the big red barn again, Rosalyn knew she’d been blessed beyond comprehension. This simple Christmas had been her best, because it had brought her love and joy that would last her lifetime.
Don’t miss any of the
Simple Gifts novels by Charlotte Hubbard!
A SIMPLE VOW
Housed in a rustic red barn, the Simple Gifts crafts shop celebrates the talents of the Amish of Willow Ridge—and the faith that inspires them. For the acceptance of simplicity opens the path to love.
As far as Edith Riehl is concerned, the baby twins thrust suddenly into her arms are a heaven-sent gift. Unable to conceive, she longs to be a mother with a home of her own. She’s going to abide by her promise to handsome Asa Detweiler to take care of them while he looks for their real father. And even if her domineering dat Cornelius refuses to countenance Asa’s suit, she can only pray the bachelor’s honesty and persistence will uncover the truth—even as he’s kindled an impossible hope for a love of her own . . .
Asa can’t understand why anyone would think he would be so dishonorable as to father babies and then abandon them. He’s determined to clear his name—but Edith’s caring ways also inspire him to help heal her wounded spirit and earn her trust. In the face of heartbreaking deception, he and Edith must find the strength to understand, forgive . . . and claim their own hearts’ joy.
A SIMPLE WISH
The Amish residents of Willow Ridge share their talents at the Simple Gifts crafts shop—and share the blessings of faith, hard work, and love with their community—even when family secrets bring unexpected challenges . . .
Making rugs for Simple Gifts has taught Loretta Riehl that an unassuming pattern can reveal surprising depth. People, too, have a way of defying first impressions. Drew Detweiler came to Willow Ridge under a cloud, but the handsome craftsman has gained the community’s respect for his upholstery skills and commitment to making amends for his mistakes. As her new brother-in-law’s twin, he’s joining the family for dinners and Sunday visits at the Riehl house, and Loretta can’t deny enjoying his attentions.
If only her dat were willing to let a little joy into his life. Cornelius Riehl grows more stern with each passing day, and Drew suspects there’s more to his moods than missing Loretta’s late mamm. Hoping to fulfill Loretta’s wish to live in a peaceful, happy home again, Drew sets out to learn the truth. It’s a journey that will bring to light painful realities—but also the chance to forge a new, honest, and loving future together . . .
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Charlotte Hubbard is the acclaimed author of Amish romance and fiction that evokes simpler times and draws upon her experiences in Jamesport, the largest Old Order Amish community west of the Mississippi. Faith and family, farming, and food preservation are hallmarks of her lifestyle—and the foundation of all her novels. A deacon, dedicated church musician, and choir member, she loves to travel, read, try new recipes, and crochet. A longtime Missourian, Charlotte now lives in St. Paul, Minnesota, with her husband and their Border Collie. Please visit Charlotte online at www.CharlotteHubbard.com.
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