Their Surprise Amish Marriage

by Jocelyn McClay

  Lydia flushed as well, but not as deeply. Rachel knew the young woman’s embarrassment was due more to being caught gossiping than the gossiping itself. Still not accustomed to the roller coaster of her hormones, Rachel was grateful her tears had evaporated under a flash of heat directed toward the red-haired busybody who was discussing her private life.

  “Please do go on, Lydia. I’m very curious as to what comes next.”

  Lydia’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected comment from her supposed victim. Rachel’s polite smile solidified. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to prevent the girl from gossiping, but at least Lydia would know she wasn’t going to be cowed by it.

  Uncharitably, Rachel noted the red-haired woman’s attractiveness greatly diminished when her mouth sagged like a carp instead of sporting her counterfeit simper. Of course, she wouldn’t waste that on Rachel, who wasn’t her preferred audience. Lydia snapped her mouth into a thin line as her eyes narrowed.

  Rachel felt a moment of unease as her anger ebbed and threatened to take her courage with it. Please don’t fail me now. Lydia’s eyes darted to Rachel’s midsection. Rachel braced herself.

  “You didn’t waste any time. Was that the way you tempted Ben to marry you?” Her expression slid into a sneer.

  It was too close to the truth. Rachel’s ears burned that someone else might overhear their conversation. She’d never been close to Lydia, although it hadn’t been intentional. They’d interacted with other female friends while in school until eighth grade. Once out and into their rumspringa, Rachel had immediately coupled up with Aaron, while Lydia had flirted with anyone and everyone available in broadfall trousers. Rachel had noticed Lydia casting a few frowning glances in her direction at Sunday night singings and other functions, but she’d never thought the other woman actively didn’t like her. Until now.

  She dipped her chin to hide its trembling. “Whatever we’ve done, we’ve made our confessions. As to why, you’ll have to ask Ben.”

  “One Raber bruder wasn’t enough?” Lydia looked her up and down as if she didn’t see anything special.

  Shifting her feet, Rachel fought the urge to cross her arms over her middle. She didn’t know why Aaron originally turned his attention to the shy, awkward girl she was when she entered her rumspringa. She’d just been dazzled that he had.

  “If you and Aaron were such a pair, why didn’t you go with him?”

  Rachel furrowed her brows. “I couldn’t. I’d been baptized. If I’d left, I’d have been shunned.” Besides, Aaron hadn’t asked. He hadn’t even told her he was going to leave.

  The other woman looked like she wouldn’t mind shunning, if the recipient was Rachel. “There’re few enough eligible men in the area. You didn’t have to go rushing after Ben as a consolation prize, stealing him from other women. Maybe he had someone else in mind to walk out with before you flaunted yourself at him.” Lydia’s lips twisted. “But you didn’t care.”

  But she hadn’t gone rushing after Ben. She had just... Rachel caught her breath, recalling that awful day. She had sought Ben out. When he’d seen her, he hastened to determine the reason for her distress. He’d received permission to leave work due to his bruder’s unexpected departure. And her distraught self. Was sobbing in someone’s arms about his missing bruder who happened to be her beau flaunting?

  Ben had always been a friend, until he was relegated more to Aaron’s bruder while she and Aaron were dating. She hadn’t paid much attention to what Ben was doing at singings and such. She’d been totally absorbed with Aaron. Had Ben been courting someone? Had he been secretly walking out with another girl in the district? Rachel hissed in a breath. With Lydia? Surely not? But he’d been with her that day in the woods while sugaring. The day she’d finally advised him of her situation. With a troubled frown, she regarded the pinch-faced woman before her.

  Nausea, different from the normal kind frequently troubling her lately, uncoiled in her stomach. Had she unintentionally stolen Ben’s future happiness with his chosen one because hers had been yanked from her? He’d never said a word.

  But he wouldn’t.

  Rachel swallowed against the bile threatening the back of her throat. Whatever Ben and her situation was, it was now permanent. They were married. Even if Lydia had been walking out with Ben before, the relationship couldn’t be changed. But it could be one without joy. Particularly, if Ben had been interested in someone else. As much as the thought troubled her, and even as she knew she should forgive and forget, Rachel couldn’t give Lydia the satisfaction of feeling she’d been successful in bullying her prey.

  Though she was tempted, Rachel ensured her smile wasn’t a gloating one as she lifted her head. “I care for Ben. No matter how we came together, we’re now married. And nothing is going to change that.” Glancing down into Lydia’s nearly empty basket, she continued, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  With a slight nod, she turned and walked down the length of the aisle and over to the checkout counter. Whatever else she’d come into the store for was forgotten as her mind roiled with the realization she’d gone into this relationship thinking only of what she’d lost. She hadn’t given any consideration to what her new husband might’ve given up.

  Tossing her single bag into the buggy, she grimly climbed in behind it. She’d been proud of herself for thinking of the great job she’d been doing to tolerate the unfortunate situation she and Ben found themselves in. What if she wasn’t the only one just trying to tolerate it?

  * * *

  Susannah Mast looked over from the goat pen as Rachel turned her horse into the lane. Rachel’s shoulders slumped in relief at finding her at home. For some reason, the sight of her mamm brought her to tears. Snorting as she knuckled one away from her cheek, Rachel acknowledged almost anything could bring her to tears lately. So it wasn’t surprising a little self-realization and guilt that she wasn’t the only one in her marriage whose dreams had dissolved could turn on the waterworks. As had the guilt that, if disappointed, Ben had been doing a better job of making the best of it. Or at least appearing to do so.

  Sniffing back the remaining tears, she drew the horse to a stop and set the brake as Susannah secured the pen’s gate behind her.

  “This is an unexpected pleasure,” Susannah called in greeting, a smile on her already sun-darkened face. Climbing down from the buggy, Rachel fought the urge to rush into her mamm’s arms. Instead, she strolled to the pen’s fence to rest her elbows on the top rail.

  “I was at the Bent ’N Dent and thought I’d stop by on the way home.”

  Having mirrored her actions, with her elbows resting on the fence beside her, Susannah raised her eyebrows. Rachel could understand. Her old home was far from a direct route between the store to where she now lived. With her husband. Who might be just tolerating their relationship. Her chin quivered. Stilling it with a frown, she focused on the multicolored goats in front of her.

  “Kids all arrived for the year?”

  She felt her mamm’s quiet regard before the older woman turned her attention to the pen. “Have a few stragglers. They should be coming soon.” Susannah put a hand on Rachel’s elbow. “You aren’t here to talk about the goats. So what are you here to talk about?”

  Turning to face the sympathetic brown eyes that matched her own, this time Rachel couldn’t prevent her chin from quaking. “How did you guess?”

  “I know my dochder. Do you want to stay out here with the goats, or would you like a glass of tea?”

  “Tea would be nice.” Rachel felt heat bloom up her neck. She cleared her throat as she tried not to touch her midsection. She knew her mamm knew, but so soon after the confrontation with Lydia, it was still embarrassing. Pivoting, she followed her mamm across the yard and into the kitchen. Here, amongst the familiar surroundings, tension immediately began to seep away. With shaky knees, she sank onto a worn kitchen chair.

>   Susannah retrieved a pitcher from the refrigerator and poured two glasses of tea. Setting one in front of Rachel, she pulled out a chair on the table’s opposite side and sat down. After taking a sip of tea, she set down her glass, rested her hands on the table and gave Rachel an understanding smile. “It’s a lot to adjust to in a relatively short period of time.”

  Rachel shook her head against the tears that again welled in her eyes. Lifting her apron, she dabbed at them, laughing without humor as she repeated, “How did you guess?”

  “I was a new bride once. And an impending mother.” Her lips twisted wryly. “And one quick upon the other, but not quite as quick as you.”

  Sniffing, Rachel put the apron to use again. “I don’t feel quick at anything anymore.” She gestured to her stomach. “Definitely not quick on my feet. Not quick keeping up with the garden and housework.” Face contorting, she hitched in a breath. “And not quick to have anything more than an awkward companionship with my husband.” Embarrassed at her outburst, she mopped up tears until the apron felt damp in her clenched hands.

  There was an audible sigh from across the table. “You have to work at your marriage. You’re two different people who suddenly formed a union, but you’re two different people who now need to work together to make a single unit.”

  Rachel dropped the apron to meet her mamm’s compassionate gaze.

  “You’ve driven draft teams before. Surely you’ve noticed the teams that pull together evenly get work done more efficiently and seem happier doing it. I know he isn’t the one you thought you’d be in harness with. But that doesn’t matter, you’re a team now and there’s no changing that. No matter what you feel for him, he is your husband, whether you care for him or not.”

  “I know that. And I do care for him.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, for he’s a very gut man.”

  “It’s just that...” Rachel didn’t continue. She wasn’t sure how to express her feelings.

  “It’s just that what?”

  She should’ve known her mother would be persistent. “Well.” She furrowed her brows. “With Aaron, I knew how he felt. And how he made me feel. He was always saying nice things to me. I liked that. Ben doesn’t say much, and definitely doesn’t use the sweet words that make me feel he cares for me, although he’s always doing things for me.”

  “Saying nice things doesn’t get the work done.”

  Rachel frowned. “Daed would always say nice things to you.”

  “Ach.” Her mamm shook her head. “As I said, saying nice things doesn’t get the work done.”

  Rachel knew she must’ve looked as stricken as she felt, as Susannah hastened to continue. “Your daed and I loved each other. Have no doubt about that. But people show love in different ways. People look for love in different ways. Your daed was gut about telling me how the sunlight gleamed in my hair and how he appreciated all the work I did around the place.” Susannah smiled ruefully. “But there were times that instead of hearing about my hair, I’d rather he’d have done more doing and less appreciating.”

  Rachel thought back on what she knew of her parents’ marriage. There’d never been harsh words. But now she thought about it, when he’d been alive, her daed had been fishing many a morning when her mamm had been working with the bees or the goats. As Rachel knew the farm had come from her mamm’s father, she’d assumed that played a part in the work quotient. Now she wondered. She loved her daed, but his heart had seemed more in the ministry he’d later been selected for and less in the farming. Until now, she’d never heard her mamm say a negative word about him.

  “I always liked it when Daed would mention how well I’d done at school. Or tell me how gut the meal was that I’d fixed while you were outside working.” Rachel’s confession was hesitant. “Or how gut a job I was doing taking care of Rebecca while you were with the boppeli.” Her voice faded away on the last word.

  Her expression falling into sorrowful lines, Susannah reached across the table to grab Rachel’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about what a burden it might’ve been for you when all my attention that wasn’t on the farm while they were ill went to them.”

  Rachel returned the comforting squeeze. “I feel guilty remembering how his words made me feel appreciated when—” She stopped short at the stark look on her mamm’s face.

  “When I didn’t have time to even acknowledge your presence, other than to give you instructions for the day. You were young to be burdened so. I shouldn’t have done that. We should’ve kept a hired girl longer. And I should’ve been the one to say gut words to you.”

  “It’s all right, Mamm. I understood. I knew they needed you.”

  Susannah’s eyes closed. She pressed her lips in a line that was as firm as it was fragile. When she spoke, her words were barely audible across the table. Rachel felt more than heard them. “We lost them anyway.”

  Rachel had been very young, but she still remembered the babies. First a little bruder, then about a year later, a little schweschder. So excited at first for a new boppeli, it hadn’t taken long to see something was wrong. Even as newborns, when they’d open their tiny unfocused eyes, the backgrounds would be yellow, not white. Their skin was an unnatural golden. They both died very young.

  It was only after they were gone that Rachel had heard the words genetic disease mentioned in hushed tones between her parents. Nothing more was said about the boppeli. The Amish way was not to grieve overmuch when someone dies, as to do so would be questioning Gott’s will. But for a long while, her mamm hadn’t returned to the no-nonsense cheerfulness that usually personified her. The winter Rachel turned ten, she’d noticed Susannah had grown especially quiet. Rachel smiled, realizing now her mamm had been expecting her little bruder. Only after Amos had arrived, with enormous blue eyes in a perfectly white background, had Susannah brightened.

  Rachel’s breathing slowed. She hadn’t thought of her lost siblings for years. Or the hereditary disease concerns the Amish were prone to, beginning as they had with a handful of families and usually marrying within their group, therefore limiting the gene pool. Pulling her hand free from her mamm’s loose grasp, she wrapped her arm protectively around the bump under her apron. “What if—” She cast a wide-eyed gaze across the table.

  Pushing back her chair, Susannah circled the table to put her arm around Rachel’s hunched shoulders. “Ja. There is a chance. But whatever happens will be Gott’s will. I’ve learned fretting about it doesn’t help you or the boppeli. Has Ben spoken of any issues in his family?”

  “Nee.” Neither had Aaron. But they’d never talked about it. She and Aaron had talked of frivolous things about marriage, not thinking about boppeli at the time. And she hadn’t mentioned her deceased siblings. To either of them. As they’d all been young at the time, they might not remember them.

  “Well.” Removing her arm, Susannah gave Rachel’s shoulder a last pat and returned to her seat. “Whether the boppeli is affected is entirely up to Gott. The success of your marriage, on the other hand, is something you have an impact on. So what really brought you here today?”

  Her mamm, as usual, was right. Their discussion about the boppeli had reduced to insignificance Rachel’s distress over the confrontation with Lydia. “I just realized that Ben might not have wanted this marriage any more than I did at the time.”

  “And what brought that on?”

  Rachel shrugged sheepishly. After their previous topic, it seemed so trivial. “I overheard Lydia Troyer talking about me in the Bent ’N Dent. About how I went so fast from one Raber bruder to another. About how someone had to marry me. Quickly.” The words still stung.

  Susannah huffed. “If my horse ran as fast as that girl’s mouth, I’d get to town in half the time. The Biewel has something to say about gossipers. Why do you let her bother you?”

  Rachel bowed her head. “Is it gossip if it’s true?” She sw
allowed. “I did go very quickly from Aaron to Ben. And he did have to.”

  For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of a wall clock. “Has Ben given you any reason to think he didn’t want this marriage?”

  Rachel thought back over Ben’s actions from the time she told him about the boppeli. She shook her head. “Nee.”

  “Benjamin Raber strikes me as one who knows his mind. You’re married to a fine man. One who’s no longer available to other single girls in the community. No wonder Lydia is upset. She’s been dangling after anyone in suspenders since she got out of braids. She’s seen girls younger than her make gut matches while with her, the available men shop but don’t buy. She’ll find something else to talk about before long. Besides, those who listen to such drivel don’t matter and those who matter don’t listen.”

  When Rachel raised her head, it was to meet Susannah’s narrowed eyes. “You mentioned at the time. Not that you have a choice, but do I understand you want this marriage now?”

  “As you’d pointed out, he is my husband.” Rachel hunched a shoulder. “But, ja, I want it to be more than...more than what we have right now.” Poking a finger in the condensation gathering at the base of her glass, she drew a short line on the table. “He doesn’t say the words I liked to hear like Aaron did. But he does things in his own way that are...special.” Twisting her lips, she continued, “And as for work you mentioned earlier, it seems we’re both working all the time. I don’t see how we could be working any more.”

  “You’re working. But are you working on your relationship? From the way your feelings are beginning to change, it sounds like Ben is. Are you?”

  Rachel pulled another line of moisture from the ring at the base of the glass. She thought back over the past few months. Was she? She was tolerating the cattle. She didn’t say anything more about them, but then neither had Ben since she’d told him of her fear. She thought of the work he’d done for her in the garden, and many other thoughtful things she’d never commented on. And she’d done...? Other than keep up with the housework and ensure there were meals on the table, had she reciprocated in simple thoughtful gestures? Or just absorbed his like a dried-up sponge?