Their Surprise Amish Marriage

by Jocelyn McClay

  “Denki for bringing it over. I have no idea what it might say, but you’re right. Until I do, it’s probably best that no one knows he sent it.”

  Intentionally changing the subject, she walked with Rebecca out into the garden and picked a few summer squash to send home. Although she greatly enjoyed her sister’s visits, today the minutes weighed as heavy as the letter tucked into her waistband until the younger woman indicated it was time for her to go. Upon waving goodbye as Rebecca drove down the lane, Rachel returned to the house. With damp palms, she retrieved the envelope and stared at it.

  Why now? She’d almost forgotten him. Her life was so full with just learning about the two babies a week ago and... Ben. A twinge of guilt flickered over her face. She could barely remember what Aaron looked like and she’d intended to marry the man for years. He was dark-haired and blue-eyed like his brother, but whenever she tried to visualize his face, instead of a square jaw, she saw a cheek that dimpled with a rare shy smile. Rachel tapped the letter against her palm. What could it possibly say?

  There was one way to find out.

  With a sharp inhale, she slid a finger into the edge and tore the flap open, the crackle of the ripping envelope causing a small shudder to run up her spine. Pulling out the single sheet of paper, Rachel unfolded it and quickly scanned the contents.

  Dear Rachel, I’ve been thinking of you. I didn’t intend to hurt you. I do care for you. Aaron.

  She stared at the simple pen strokes, the words becoming blurry as the backs of her eyes prickled with tears. That was it? And after all this time, what did it mean? One tear dripped, dampening the paper as memories of the relationship that’d meant everything to her during her rumspringa flooded through her. Memories of the man whose sweet words had made her feel special. Whom she’d thought was Gott’s chosen one for her. Why did Aaron have to send this now, when things had been going well between her and Ben? With one last look at the brief words, she refolded the letter and slid it back into the envelope.

  Any way she could think of it, this would not help her relationship with her husband. There was no news about his brother she could pass on to Ben. It didn’t say where Aaron was, why he left, or when or even if he was coming back. Only that he was thinking of and cared for her. The envelope crinkled as her hand tightened around it. Her. Who was now his brother’s wife. Did Aaron know that? Opening her hand, she ran her thumb over the address. Obviously not, as he’d addressed it to her maiden name.

  Smoothing out the wrinkles she’d created, Rachel gazed at the wastepaper basket. If there’d been something in it to share with Ben, she would have. As it was, there was no reason to keep the missive. Still—she pressed the letter to her chest—she couldn’t let it go. When she’d moved out of her old home, she’d thrown all mementos of her relationship with Aaron in a tearful purging. This was the only thing from him she had now. Although troubling, it brought back memories, good ones, of a carefree girl romanced by a charming fellow. Instead of being a new wife in a tenuous marriage, heavy with child and the responsibilities of running a household. Could she ever totally let go of that carefree girl?

  Rachel tapped the envelope against her side a moment before she crossed to her bedroom and opened the drawer of the nightstand next to her bed. Dropping the envelope in, she shut the drawer again with a rueful sigh. Oh, Aaron. You did hurt me. Everything has changed because you left. And can’t return to what it was. If you return to confront the repercussions of your abrupt departure, there’ll be more of us hurt. Maybe it’s best if you stay away. Her heart clenched at the thought. She reached for the drawer again, only to curl her fingers into a fist before opening it. With a resolve to dispose of the letter at some point—just not yet—Rachel returned to the kitchen to continue preparations for the day’s canning.

  When Ben asked that evening about her day, she told him about the canning and her sister’s visit, and nothing else.

  * * *

  Waving a casual farewell to coworkers still harnessing their horses after work, Ben guided Sojy down Main Street, his thoughts already turning toward Rachel. He snorted with self-derision. He was always thinking of Rachel. But now, amongst the silent longing and muted joy was a tinge of worry. She’d been quiet the past few days. Rachel wasn’t a loquacious woman anyway, and he knew she was often tired when he got into the house after work and chores at the end of the day, but the past couple days since she’d mentioned Rebecca had visited, his wife had been exceptionally subdued.

  Had Rebecca brought bad news? Ben sighed, sick at heart that he and his wife still didn’t have the relationship where they could talk easily together. Surely she would’ve told him if something was wrong at her mamm’s farm? Had Rachel and her schweschder argued? Ben didn’t want to get into the middle of two sisters bickering, but, his lips flattened grimly as he passed The Dew Drop restaurant where Rebecca worked, he’d do whatever was necessary to protect his wife. Whether or not she was growing more burdened by day with carrying his two children.

  Maybe that was the reason. Maybe she was even more fatigued, as there were two boppeli instead of one. Rachel never complained, but he’d detected winces and grimaces crossing her face when she didn’t think he was watching. Was she worried now that they knew there were two? Did she know something about multiples that he didn’t? Pregnancy and childbirth were very normal in the Amish community, as they welcomed and rejoiced in large families. That didn’t mean there weren’t occasional problems. In fact, their neighbor Jethro Weaver had lost his wife and unborn child last fall due to a pregnancy-related issue.

  After they’d been advised of the twins, Ben had noted all the twins existing around the district. Although somewhat rare, there were a few. Did carrying twins bring increased risks for the mother? His stomach began to churn at the thought of losing his wife and children like Jethro had. Was there something Rachel wasn’t telling him that had her silent with worry?

  He was approaching the cheerfully colored awning of the quilt shop where Hannah Bartel, the apprentice to the midwife, still occasionally worked. Slowing his horse, Ben peered into the windows of The Stitch. To his relief, he saw Hannah inside. Before he could talk himself out of it, he guided a surprised Sojourner to the curb. Hopping out, Ben secured the mare and headed for the shop door, his step slowing when he noted other shoppers were inside.

  Pausing outside the door, he debated his hasty decision. He knew all the women visible in the shop, but still, he didn’t want them to hear his questions for Hannah. Drumming his fingers on his thigh, he weighed his and Rachel’s privacy against settling his concerns regarding her and the boppeli. He glanced at the shop hours stenciled on the door’s window before narrowing his eyes at the clock visible inside on an interior wall. A few moments until closing time. Hopefully the women would soon finish their business and leave. Ben shifted his feet when he saw that he’d drawn their curious attention. Heaving a sigh, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  The three women at the counter smiled as he stepped inside. His boss’s wife, Ruth Schrock, called out the first greeting.

  “Guder Nummidaag, Ben.” Although her expression remained bland, he recognized the impishness in her eyes. “When did you start quilting?” Having grown up with Ruth and worked with her at Fisher Furniture when her daed owned the shop before Malachi bought it, Ben wasn’t surprised at her teasing.

  “Good afternoon to you, as well. And this is nothing new—you always have me in stitches.” The trio of women giggled at his response. He strolled toward them through the rows of fabric. Might as well brazen it out now. “She’s grown.” He nodded to Deborah, the baby girl, dressed just like her mamm, who peered curiously at him from the safety of Ruth’s arms. He swallowed hard at the thought, the hope, that one like her would be nestled in Rachel’s arms sometime in the future.

  “She certainly has. It’s a race between Deborah and Rascal as to who can scurry over the floor faster now.”
<
br />   Ben nodded to Ruth’s companion, another woman he’d grown up with. He’d been glad when Hannah’s schweschder, Gail Lapp, now Gail Schrock as she’d married Malachi’s bruder Samuel, had returned to the community with her young daughter. “And how are you, Lily?” He nodded toward the little blond girl currently petting Socks, Hannah’s Border collie and frequent companion.

  Eyeing him warily, the girl gave the dog a few more strokes before solemnly stating, “Ich bin gut.” She glanced up at her mamm. “I said that right, didn’t I?”

  Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Ben hid a smile. Whereas most Amish children spoke the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect at home and didn’t learn English until they attended school, Lily had it backward, having lived in the Englisch world for the first few years of her life and only returning with Gail to Miller’s Creek last summer. Lily tugged on her mamm’s apron. “Can we go home? I want to watch Daed work with the filly.”

  Ben’s grin behind his hand grew larger. Samuel Schrock, also a previous coworker before he’d become the horse trader for the community, was going to have his hands full with this maedel. Ben couldn’t wish it on a better man. And nothing would be said, but as was evident by Gail’s profile when her apron had been tugged, Samuel was also going to be a daed again at some point. Ben was thrilled for his friend.

  But now he wanted to ask the midwife apprentice about his own wife’s condition. Hannah met his eyes and smiled in understanding. She turned her attention to the little girl. “I think you’re going to have a lovely new dress with that material, Lily. Will you be wearing it next church Sunday?”

  Gail Schrock picked up a bag from the counter. “I don’t know if it’ll be done by then, because I’ll have to get someone to stand still long enough to take measurements before I can make it. Come on, Lily, let’s go see how the filly’s training is coming.” With a wave of farewell, she followed her skipping daughter to the door.

  When the little girl departed, Socks trotted to the dog bed in the corner and settled on it. Ben watched as she stretched out her black-and-white legs and rested her head upon them.

  “Where’s Nip and Tuck?” Hannah and her husband, Gabe, had rescued the two Border collie pups during one of Gabe’s EMS calls this past winter.

  Hannah shook her head with a smile. “They’re out at my folks’ farm until we can get a bigger place. The apartment upstairs was getting a little too small for all of us.”

  Ruth snagged a small bag from the counter. “We need to be heading out as well as we’re riding home with Malachi. We’re supposed to meet him at the shop after work. As you’re here, he may be ready to go, as well.” She squinted at Ben. “Although I’m still trying to figure out why you are here.”

  “You keep thinking on that. It should entertain you for a while.”

  She flashed him a smile, but after studying his face for a moment, Ruth’s expression grew more serious. “It’s gut to see you joking again, Ben. We’ve been worried about you.”

  “Ach,” Ben ducked his head as his cheeks reddened. “I’m fine. I’ll always be fine.”

  “Gut to know.” Ruth reached out to briefly touch his arm before she shifted the girl in her arms, bid him and Hannah farewell and left the shop.

  “I’m guessing you’re here because you’re worried about someone else. I’m also guessing from what she said, you haven’t shared the news about the twins.”

  “Only to our parents, because of the...” he scowled “...rumors. Everyone else will just have to find out when they arrive.”

  Hannah frowned, as well. “When they come early, as multiplies frequently do, some might not know that. They’ll count the months and still wonder.”

  “Those that want to will do that. I can’t change what they think. They’re not my business. Rachel is. What have you learned?” He prompted the apprentice midwife.

  He wasn’t encouraged when, frowning further, she sighed. “Well, there are greater risks for complication with twins. Although that doesn’t mean they’ll happen,” she hastened to assure him.

  “Like what?”

  “With the boppeli in all likelihood arriving early, it means they’ll have low birth weights.” She met his somber gaze. “Along with corresponding issues.”

  Ben grew up with livestock. He knew about runts and their struggle to thrive. He pivoted to stare blindly at the far wall, the bright-colored quilts that adorned it counter to his bleak thoughts. Amish districts differed. Some tended to reject extraordinary measures to save a life, since such measures may attempt to interfere with Gott’s will. As Amish carried no health insurance, relying on the church and community to cover member’s incurred bills, expenses born by his family would affect the whole district. What were they to do if the babes were born too small to survive? Would Gott punish him through his children for his sin of being in love with his brother’s intended? For stealing her for himself? Ben’s head lowered as his eyes closed. With hands pressed to his chest, he emptied his mind and opened his heart. Gott, please forgive me. It is my sin, and my sin alone. I am in awe that You’ve brought Rachel and these children into my life. Please forgive me of this sin against my brother.

  With a shuddering sigh, Ben opened his eyes and lifted his head. A good part of the boppeli staying healthy depended on the health of his wife.

  “What about for Rachel?” He directed the question over his shoulder.

  Hannah hesitated before continuing softly. “Some frequent issues of women carrying twins are higher risk for gestational diabetes, anemia and preeclampsia.”

  Ben hissed in his breath. Eclampsia had been determined as the cause of death for Jethro’s wife and child.

  “More morning sickness.”

  “Ach, she’s certainly had that.” He turned to face Hannah.

  “I’d always heard so, but having now seen her numerous times in action, I can vouch for the fact that Mrs. Edigers is very gut at what she does. She’ll take gut care of them.”

  “As I’m sure that you’ll be as talented as well, by the time you finish your apprenticeship.” He smiled ruefully.

  “I hope so. I’ll certainly strive to be.”

  “Well, I should be going. I have chores and Rachel will be expecting me. Denki for the information, Hannah. I can’t say it’s comforting to know, but I’d rather know than be ignorant. Tell Gabe hello for me.” He turned and began weaving his way back through the brightly colored rows.

  “Will do and we’ll keep a close eye on any issues with Rachel and the boppeli. It might be difficult convincing her, but as she gets closer to their arrival, it would help her to get off her feet. Sehn dich scheeder, Ben.”

  “Ja. See you later,” he echoed, the bell above the door jangling as he exited.

  Ben’s brow remained furrowed as the familiar countryside breezed by during the drive home. He had to take care of his wife. Always his intention, the need pulsed through him with this new information. How to do so? If he didn’t know she’d already have supper on the table, he would’ve returned to The Dew Drop to take something home for them. He blinked and shifted on the seat. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? He’d tell Rachel he’d pick something up for them tomorrow so she wouldn’t have to cook.

  How else could he care for her? There were a few hours of daylight after supper. He could go to the garden instead of reading the paper and do the hoeing so Rachel didn’t have to.

  Ben’s customary glance toward the kitchen window as he drove up the lane turned worried when Rachel didn’t appear there to wave. With a frown, he scanned the garden. She wasn’t there either. Directing Sojy to the barn, he left her in front of its big door as he hurried toward the house.

  It was quiet when he entered. “Rachel?” he called softly. The kitchen was empty, albeit the table was set for two. A garden salad sat on the counter. A steaming casserole was visible in the oven, although the appliance was off, its door open a
crack.

  He found her in her rocking chair. Ben’s air was stranded in his throat, until he saw the steady rise and fall of her breathing. She’d fallen asleep. She’d spared a moment during the day to sit down and had fallen asleep. Her hands rested across her midsection. Her head was tipped to one side against the back of the rocker. A few strands of dark hair had fallen from under her still neatly pinned kapp to drape across her cheek. Her eyelashes fanned over the dark circles under her eyes.

  For a moment, Ben just watched her sleep. For years, he’d never been able to look his fill at Rachel. First, it would’ve drawn teasing from his fellow schoolmates if they’d caught him watching one of the girls. Then, when she was Aaron’s, it hadn’t seemed right. After he and Rachel were married, the way their relationship had begun, and stood, he knew it would make her uncomfortable to gaze at her as he wanted to.

  When she didn’t stir, he gingerly unpinned her kapp and took it with him into her bedroom. Setting it on the nightstand by the bed, he turned down the handmade quilt and cotton sheet. Returning to the rocker, Ben gazed down at her again with a soft smile on his face. Rachel hadn’t been sleeping well. He could hear her moving around when he wasn’t sleeping. He longed to guard her rest, because when the babes came, from what he’d heard, neither of them would get much sleep at first. She was always working. Even though she was tired, she never complained.

  Bending down, Ben gently curled his arms about her and lifted her from the chair. Her head lolled against his neck. Ducking his chin, Ben tenderly kissed her forehead. Resting his head against hers, his eyes drifted closed as longing to be able to do that freely rippled through him. With a regretful sigh, he carried Rachel into her bedroom and carefully laid her down on the bed. Conscious of the day’s warmth, he pulled the sheet only over her, tucking it at her shoulders.