by Ruth Reid
After a long drink, Lindie lifted her head. Although some of the color had returned to her cheeks, she still looked pasty.
“If you like, I’ll buy you a return ticket home,” he said.
Josiah expected some hint of relief to wash over her, but instead, he noted quite the opposite. She looked terrified. And that added to his confusion. He tipped his head to one side so he could look her in the eye.
“Lindie, why are you here? Your bruder talked you into this, ain’t so?”
Eli joined them. “She’s here because I know you’ll take gut care of her.” He turned to Lindie. “Wipe your face and get ahold of yourself.”
“If you don’t mind, Eli”—Josiah’s voice hardened—“your sister and I have more to talk about.” He flicked his head at the boxes. “You should stay with the packages.” Josiah waited until Eli was out of earshot before asking, “Is he preventing you from marrying someone else?” Like the father of your unborn boppli?
“Nay.” He strained to hear her words. She glanced at him a half second. “There is no one else.”
He sighed. Prior to her arrival, he’d convinced himself this was a mistake, but in the half second that she acknowledged him, he saw hopelessness. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”
“I’d like to stay.” Her demeanor contradicted her words.
“I said in mei letter I would give you mei name, but nett mei heart.”
She nodded.
“I’m nett capable of falling in love again. Your bruder is mistaken if he’s told you otherwise. Even in time, I won’t.” He paused a moment. Though harsh, the truth needed to be spoken. It was important for her to give some sign of acknowledging this.
She didn’t.
“Will you at least lift your head and look me in the eye?” The moment she did, he regretted being so direct. Her tearful blue eyes held a sorrow he wasn’t prepared for.
He scanned the area. Other than Eli standing beside the boxes and a handful of people still loitering, they were alone. He looked at her. “This isn’t something I would normally discuss . . . and I certainly don’t intend to embarrass you. Do you understand what a marriage of convenience means?”
She didn’t blink as tears welled.
He had to stress the final point. “That means I’ll give you a roof over your head and provide for you. Nothing more.”
She squared her shoulders. “And in return, what do you expect from me?”
“I told you in the letter.” Didn’t she say she read and agreed to the terms? “I have a young dochder who is deaf. I can’t have her running around the sawmill. In addition to caring for her, I expect you to cook, clean, and keep up the laundry. Things a fraa would handle. Also, Eli said you can do record keeping.”
“Jah. I kept track of the income from my sister-in-law’s vegetable stand.”
Her bottom lip trembled and he groaned under his breath.
“I want to be straightforward with you. The winters are long and hard. You don’t know loneliness until you’ve suffered through cabin fever.” This wasn’t the place for a woman in a weakened condition.
She bowed her head, wringing her hands.
“Lindie, will you please stop looking away?”
She met his gaze.
His chest expanded with a deep breath. “A loveless marriage might be unbearable. Going through the motions of marriage without—without love . . . You might grow to despise me.” He paused a moment. “If this isn’t what you expected . . . I’ll buy you a ticket home.”
Chapter Two
Things a fraa would handle. Lindie was sure those were his exact words. That meant more than household chores. Of course a man would expect to have liberties with his wife—it was biblical—even if he didn’t love her. Besides, he seemed to emphasize how lonely life would be going through the motions of marriage.
A brisk breeze sent a chill down Lindie’s spine as she stood outside the bus depot. Shivering, she hugged herself.
Josiah stepped into the wind and, without asking, placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. A kind gesture to block the wind, but his touch caused her to flinch.
He dropped his hands. “I’m sorry.”
A gust of wind pulled at her kapp, exposing her ears to the numbing cold air. With the ground covered in snow already, how long would it be before she experienced what he called cabin fever?
Another wave of nausea washed over her, and she fought to control it.
“Does the father of the boppli know you’re about to get married?”
She coughed, almost launching what little stomach contents she had at him. How could he have figured it out when it took her two months after the sickness started? She had thought it was due to stress.
Josiah’s brows rose ever so slightly. “He doesn’t know, does he?”
“Nay.” She sucked in a breath.
He shifted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest.
Josiah had indicated he wouldn’t pry. She needed him to keep that promise.
“You said you weren’t going to ask.” She probably sounded too stern for someone in her situation, but if she didn’t challenge him now, more questions would follow.
“Jah, that is true. I did say that.” He looked down at his boots, then back at her. “I trust you have a gut reason to withhold such vital information.”
“I do.”
He stared at her a moment, then waved Eli over to them.
What was he going to do, have Eli explain her predicament? She hadn’t even told her brother all the facts.
Eli sprinted over and stood beside them. He buried his hands in his armpits, shivering. “Have you two worked things out?”
Her brother couldn’t really believe things would be worked out in less than fifteen minutes, could he? She diverted her attention to the slush buildup on the cement platform.
“I’m going to leave you alone so she can tell you her decision,” Josiah said.
Lindie lifted her head and watched Josiah as he crossed the platform and stopped next to her belongings. He was too handsome to settle for someone damaged like her, especially if he was as kind as Eli had made him out to be.
“How did your talk go?”
“He offered to buy mei ticket home.”
“I figured he would.”
Her chest grew heavy. Had Eli hauled her almost as far as Canada to prove that her life was too marred for any man? The truth was hard to swallow. “You knew he would change his mind after he met me?”
“He wants to give you every chance to change yours.” He shifted his feet. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this arrangement if I didn’t believe he would treat you gut. Since his fraa died, he’s had no one to take care of his dochder.” Eli squeezed her hand. “This will all work out.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“That’s understandable. But this is your only chance for a decent future.”
In other words, her brother wasn’t giving her the option to leave. That didn’t surprise her. After she’d refused to share her whereabouts on the night she hadn’t come home from the singing, he made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate waywardness. At least he wasn’t reminding her again of the mess she’d made of her life.
Eli patted her shoulder. “Kumm, let’s tell him you’re ready.”
Without uttering a word, she walked beside her brother and they joined Josiah.
“We can go meet the bishop nau,” Eli said.
Josiah’s gaze held hers. For a moment, she thought he might back out of the arrangement. Then he stooped to grasp the twine tied around two of the boxes. “The buggy is this way.”
Her brother grabbed the other boxes, and she trailed them both to the corner of the bus station’s parking lot where Josiah had tied his horse to a lamppost.
Lindie climbed inside as they piled her belongings in the back. Being squeezed between the boxes in the backseat didn’t leave her much of a view from the side opening. What little she could see of the t
own looked small. A few old houses converted into antique shops, a spa and salon. Stores she wouldn’t frequent. The grocery store’s parking lot buzzed with activity, and several cars were parked at the Cedar Ridge Restaurant. Lindie hadn’t seen any other Amish buggies. Over the years she’d heard stories of how some areas were so unwelcoming that the Amish folks rarely went into town because they didn’t feel safe. She hoped Cedar Ridge wasn’t such a place.
“How’s the farming around here?” Eli asked.
“Nett so gut. Too much limestone plus the season is short.”
Lindie slumped on the bench. She didn’t like the idea of not putting in a large garden.
“Some vegetables grow all right. Others do better if they are seed-started in a greenhaus. The woods are full of mushrooms to pick.”
Mushrooms weren’t part of what Lindie considered a pantry staple. She wasn’t fond of the spongy fungus either.
It wasn’t long before the pavement ended and the hilly gravel road took a few sharp bends. It must be a beautiful drive when the fall leaves were still on the trees. But even now, the snowy hillside was breathtaking.
Josiah pulled back on the reins and the horse slowed. Lindie sat straighter on the bench at the sight of the steep hill ahead. She held her breath as they climbed, then exhaled slowly as they neared the crest. From the peak, the landscape stretched for miles. She closed her eyes during the descent. Even so, her body slid forward on the bench as the buggy dipped downward.
“This is a little tricky.” Josiah worked the reins.
She couldn’t imagine how hazardous the roads were after a heavy snow, or worse yet, an ice storm. In their settlement, the landscape was mostly flat, and even then, it was dangerous to be on the roads in the winter.
They crossed two more tree-covered hills before a clapboard-sided farmhouse came into view. The buggy under the lean-to identified this house as Amish.
Josiah pulled back on the reins and veered his horse into the driveway. He stepped aside as she climbed out of the buggy. “You sure about this?” he whispered.
Didn’t he know she couldn’t change her mind? She had no place to go. “I’m sure,” she replied without looking him in the eye.
“You look white again.” He started walking.
“Jah, I imagine I do.” Her knees wobbled too as they climbed the porch steps. She wasn’t sure whether to blame the steep incline or the pending talk with the bishop.
The door opened at the same time Josiah raised his hand to knock.
“Kumm in.” The woman stepped aside as they entered. “Gideon is waiting for you in the sitting room.” The woman’s welcoming smile and the sweet aroma of apple pie offered a morsel of hope. Perhaps the settlement wasn’t aware of Lindie’s circumstances. She’d kept the truth hidden within her own district and the members practically shunned her. She didn’t dare think about how this new community would treat her once they knew.
Josiah pulled his hat off his head, clutched it against his chest, and led the way.
A blast of dry heat from the woodstove warmed her face as she followed Josiah into the sitting room.
“Bishop Troyer, this is Lindie Wyse and her bruder, Eli.” Josiah’s voice quivered as he gave the introductions.
“It’s gut to see you again, Eli. And to meet you, Lindie.” The bishop directed her and Josiah to the ladder-back wooden chairs positioned side by side in the center of the room. “Have a seat.”
She did. His authoritative tone reminded her of the meeting she’d had with the bishop in her district prior to the church service where she knelt in repentance. She would rather walk barefoot over shards of glass than relive that experience.
“Josiah, sit beside her.” The bishop turned his attention to Eli. “You can wait in the kitchen while I talk with them.”
Eli had thought Josiah would treat her well . . . A chance for a fresh start. She bowed her head and stared at her brown, wrinkled dress. After riding a bus all night, her clothing wasn’t as neat as she would’ve liked, nor was it the traditional royal blue that women wore for their wedding.
“State your intention,” the bishop said to Josiah.
“Lindie . . .” He paused and regarded her as if giving her another chance to change her mind. When she made no move, he cleared his throat and continued. “Lindie and I would like to be married.”
The quiver in his voice was gone—she didn’t detect a hint of hesitation.
“Usually the wedding takes place in the bride’s district.” The bishop’s tone was more a question than a statement.
“That is true,” Josiah said. “But since it would be difficult to travel with mei dochder and I didn’t want to be away from her too long, Lindie was willing to forgo a large wedding. Her bruder has also given his approval. He’s one of the ministers in their district and he has a letter from their bishop as well.”
Her stomach muscles clenched. Would the letter give a full account of what led up to her kneeling confession?
The bishop turned to her. “Have you been baptized?”
“Jah.”
The bishop stroked his beard as he studied her.
She swallowed the acid coating her throat. “I made mei commitment to God and the church.” She understood his need to verify her testimony of faith. Like any bishop, he would refuse to marry them if either had not been baptized. Intermarrying with unbelievers was strictly forbidden.
“And nau you wish to make a lasting covenant with Josiah?”
“Jah,” Lindie said, sounding less than convincing.
After a long moment of intense scrutiny, the bishop shifted his stare to Josiah. “The man is the head of the woman just as Christ is the head of the church.”
Josiah’s Adam’s apple moved down his neck.
“In the union between a husband and fraa, they shall become one flesh. Only in death shall the covenant between man and fraa be terminated.” The bishop studied both of them.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Josiah lower his head.
“You may join hands,” the bishop said before walking out of the room.
Josiah held out his hand and she took it. Needles prickled along her spine. His hand was dry and calloused. A hard worker. Any woman would be pleased to find such a man. She cast a furtive glance his way. His posture was board-straight, his chin set. If it hadn’t been for his dull expression, one that no doubt matched hers, she would have found him quite handsome.
The bishop’s wife and Eli followed the bishop back into the room. Her brother folded his arms in front of him and stood a few feet to the side of her chair, while the bishop’s wife stood on the opposite side.
Bishop Troyer cleared his throat. “Are you both willing to enter wedlock as God has commanded?”
“Jah,” she and Josiah said in unison.
The bishop placed his hand over their clasped hands. “Before God, do you take Lindie as your fraa? Do you promise that you will not depart from her, but will care for her in affliction, in sickness, and in health?”
“Jah.”
“And do you take Josiah as your wedded husband? Do you promise before God that you will not depart from him? Will you remain loyal during all times, even in sickness until death?”
“Jah,” she answered to each of his questions.
The thrill of waiting for the Schtecklimann to arrive at her parents’ home to announce a certain young man’s marriage intentions was stolen. Since her parents were gone and she’d lived under Eli’s roof, he was her parental figure and the go-between. He’d certainly given his consent and made all the arrangements—only she hadn’t been part of the planning.
“May God be with you and bless you with offspring, through Jesus Christ. Aemen.” The bishop released his hand from theirs. “Go forth in the Lord. You are nau man and fraa.”
Josiah withdrew his hand.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. It wasn’t uncommon for the bride to cry on her wedding day, but her tears were shed for a different reason. She had only lear
ned of the arrangements after Josiah had agreed. Instead of having weeks to plan and frolic in all the cooking and sewing preparations, she’d had only a few days. Even then, it didn’t give her much time to pack the contents of her hope chest.
She swept the back of her hand over her cheeks. Eli had pressed her about her whereabouts. Unmarried women had a reputation to uphold. He reminded her that as a minister, he was accountable to the bishop. She finally confessed to spending the time with an Englischer. He pointed out how disappointed their deceased parents would be. How mortified he felt as her brother.
The humiliating situation created a string of accusations. None of which she would answer—not completely anyway.
“I’m Rebecca Troyer,” the bishop’s fraa said. “Wilkom to our settlement.” The plump woman with the salt-and-pepper hair extended her arms and gave Lindie a welcoming hug.
“Denki.”
“This is far from home for you. I hope the adjustment won’t be too difficult.”
“Denki.” Lindie smiled. Her first genuine smile since arriving. Rebecca’s hug felt maternal. Maybe she would find someone in this foreign land who would make her feel at home.
“I’ll put the kettle on for kaffi and we can have pie while you tell me a little about yourself.”
Josiah cleared his throat. “Perhaps we can visit on church Sunday. We need to get Lindie’s bruder back to the bus station.”
The weight of his words hit Lindie like a cast-iron pan. It wouldn’t be long before her brother would leave and she would be alone. Hundreds of miles from family . . .
A hand touched her shoulder. “We need to go,” Josiah said. “Eli’s bus leaves in an hour.”
His face was distorted by her blurred vision. She didn’t see him as her husband, but as a stranger.
Rebecca walked them to the door. “We’ll get together for kaffi soon.”
Lindie blinked a few times before facing Rebecca. “I’d like that.”
She caught a glimpse of Josiah’s frown in her peripheral vision. She hoped he wouldn’t disapprove of her eagerness to form a friendship.
Neither Josiah nor her brother spoke on the way to the buggy. Once again, she climbed into the back. This time, before they reached the steepest hill, she closed her eyes until the road leveled. It was snowing when they reached the bus station. Not the pretty, fluffy flakes she liked to catch in her mouth. This was sleet. Cold and wet, but at least it would disguise her tears.