Their Surprise Amish Marriage

by Jocelyn McClay

  Gott’s opinion on coveting was well-known. Ben swallowed as he backed away from the stand. His silent prayer now was quite different. May Gott forgive him for what he’d done. Hopefully sooner than he could forgive his wife and himself. As for his brother? If he returned, Ben didn’t figure Aaron would ever forgive him.

  * * *

  “Denki. You’re a tremendous help to me. I’m fortunate to have you.” Rachel’s words drifted over her shoulder as she worked at the sink.

  Ben paused in the action of clearing the supper table to absorb her words. They warmed him like a glowing stove in January, particularly after finding the letter two weeks ago. His lips twisted. When had he become so maudlin? You’d think he was now the one with child, he was so out of balance with emotions.

  He watched Rachel shift her position a few times before she plucked another tomato from the sink. Remembering Hannah’s words that it would help his pregnant wife to be off her feet, he frowned as he crossed to the counter.

  “Are you doing too much so late in your condition?” He nodded toward the collection of already full jars farther down the counter and the sink full of tomatoes.

  Rachel’s expression was bland. But Ben knew she’d become quite adept at masking her discomfort over the past several weeks. “It’s not work when you like doing it.”

  “You like doing this?” His tone revealed his surprise.

  “Oh, ja. It gives me great pleasure to see the shelves filling up with food for the winter. In fact, if Isaiah doesn’t mind, I’d like to expand the garden next year.”

  Ben grunted as he retrieved another paring knife from the drawer and joined her at the sink. She shifted to make room. He reached in the water for a tomato and began to peel. “We might have to buy our own draft horses if I expand it much more.”

  Rachel grinned. “If we expand, I can add some different vegetables and herbs or plant more of what I did this year so I’d have enough to sell.” She looked up at him with such enthusiasm in her face that Ben would’ve put the horse collar on his own shoulders and tugged the plow across the ground himself just to keep her expression in place.

  “Then I can help earn some money. Maybe to get a place of our own sooner?”

  “You just want a place where you can put in an even bigger garden. Sounds like it needs at least forty acres of cleared flat ground just for your vegetables. I guess I need to make that a four-horse team and get a cultivator as well as disk and plow.”

  She giggled.

  He shared her smile as he dropped the peeled tomato into the bowl with the others. It warmed him to be talking about the future with her. Talking and smiling about plans she had. Plans that included him. Reaching into the sink for another tomato, Ben froze when his hand connected with Rachel’s grabbing the same bobbing target. She went still, as well. Striving to control his suddenly elevated breathing, he carefully loosened his fingers to seek out another objective. Plucking one, he shook the water from it and began to peel. Plans that included him only because his brother was no longer in the picture.

  Ben’s hand tightened on the tomato as he recalled the letter. With a squirt of juice, it slipped from his fingers and fell back into the water with a plop. “Sorry,” he muttered. Fishing it out again, he scrapped the knife across its surface, peeling off the skin that’d been loosened by the blanching. Who knew when that letter had been sent? Although he’d always been aware of their actions while they were courting, he hadn’t been involved in her and Aaron’s relationship. They could’ve had a falling out before and the letter had been sent when Aaron was still living at home.

  Since he’d found the letter, he’d given Rachel ample opportunity to mention it. All without mentioning Aaron. He’d dropped associated topics. Discussed letters that’d come in the mail. She’d never said a word. It only made him worry more. Ben thought about his last interaction with Lydia. He would never break his vows. But if Aaron ever came back, would Rachel? Would she meet secretly and intimately with his bruder? Would she betray him that way? Would Aaron? Grimly, Ben remembered that he, not Aaron, was the cowbird that came in to steal the nest Rachel had been planning to build with a husband.

  But Rachel was now smiling while talking about future plans with him. Surely that meant something?

  He slid a sideways glance at her. Tendrils of her hair, damp from the steamy heat of canning, curled about her flushed face. One clung to her cheek. Her hands busy, Ben watched as she tried to blow it free with a puff from pursed lips. Lips he wanted to kiss. But the situation never seemed right and, his stomach churned as the letter and what it might mean had taken root in his mind, she might not want his affection. Ben didn’t know what made him feel worse, that she would avoid any overtures he might make, or that she would accept them unwillingly. Either way, he would keep his hands and lips to himself, if not his heart. It was too late for that.

  Searching for distraction from his dismal thoughts, he glanced out the window. In the pasture, Billy was wrestling with one of the smaller bulls. Head to head, the big bull easily pushed the lighter one back. With a final lunge, he knocked the other to its knees. Ben stiffened, watching carefully as the smaller bull scrambled to its feet and scampered safely away from the big animal.

  Rachel glanced out the window in the direction of his gaze. Ben heard her disturbed sigh when she noticed the bull.

  “I wished you hadn’t started doing chores again.”

  “The doctor said my ribs were healed enough to handle lifting the weight of the pails. Besides, I didn’t want to put Jethro out any more than I had already.”

  Any sign of smiles was gone. Her lips were tight as she dropped her tomato into the bowl and jerked another one from the water. “I liked it better when Isaiah took Billy to his place for a while. I was sorry to see him come back.”

  Putting his tomato in the bowl, Ben picked up another. “The cows needed him. I’m glad Isaiah didn’t sell him. I made a mistake. Billy made a mistake. We’re even. I’d feel bad if I’d deprived Isaiah of good genetics when I’m supposed to be the one taking care of the animals.”

  “The cows might need him, but I need to see him as hamburger. He could’ve killed you.”

  Ben’s lips twitched, secretly delighted with her concern. “He’d be a lot of hamburger. Almost enough to go with all your canned tomatoes.”

  To his regret, she didn’t smile at his joke. “Speaking of which, I’ll need more jars from the basement. I’ll go get them if you want to finish these up?”

  Putting his finished tomato in the bowl, Ben set down his knife and rinsed his hands by swishing them through the water. “I’ll get them. I don’t want to think about you going down those steep stairs any more than you have to. Or coming back up with a boxful of jars. Quarts or pints?”

  “Quarts. We’re a growing family.” This time a smile accompanied her words.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Not growing that fast. I hope these keep a few years. I’m thinking the boppeli won’t be eating tomatoes for a while.”

  “Okay,” she relented. “A mixture of quarts and pints.”

  He dried his hands on a nearby dish towel. “Why didn’t you plan a canning frolic here with some of your friends? I know you’ve been to a few this summer.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe next year. This year, I just wanted to settle into my own kitchen. I know some folks have bigger dreams, but mine was always just to have my own home, sharing it with children and—” She halted abruptly as she stared down at the tomato in her hand. “And taking care of it and them,” she finished awkwardly.

  Ben strode to the basement door and jerked it open. “I’ll get the jars,” he tossed over his shoulder. He descended the stairs to the concrete-floored basement, his heart as heavy as his tread, his mind echoing with the word she didn’t say. That she was going to say. My own home, sharing it with children and... Aaron.

  * * *

&n
bsp; Rachel watched as Ben disappeared through the door to the basement. She’d been so glad she’d caught herself in time. Before she finished with, and the man I love. Because she was beginning to think she loved Ben. But she wasn’t ready to share that, as he hadn’t given any indication he felt the same way.

  He’d been quiet lately. Ben was generally quiet, but he’d seemed particularly withdrawn lately. Was he worried about being a daed? Dropping the last tomato into the heaping bowl, she bent and leaned an elbow on the edge of the sink. Now that he wasn’t watching, she reached to press a hand against the small of her back, which had been aching for some time. Along with her hips, but that was nothing new. They’d been aching for the past month, particularly the past two weeks.

  Not only Ben, but the boppeli were quieter, as well. What was it with her family recently? They’d been as active lately as Standardbreds coming down the home stretch, but today, their movements were more subdued. Rachel smiled faintly. She could tell them apart. She didn’t know who they were yet, or, she grimaced ruefully, what they would be called—another thing she and Ben hadn’t talked about—but she could tell who was where. Not only had they not talked of names, but Ben had never felt them move. Other than that first time just after they’d learned there were two when he’d seemed intrigued, he hadn’t indicated an interest. Sure, she’d catch his gaze on her in the evenings when she’d exclaim after one of the boppelis’ particularly rambunctious bouts, but he’d never said a word and, although she’d wanted to share their movements, she was afraid to ask if he was interested. In case he wasn’t. In case, although he seemed to be tolerating their marriage, he wasn’t really excited about the reason it had come about. At least, not like Rachel was. She couldn’t wait to see their little faces. To hold them in her arms. To assure herself they weren’t affected by what had taken her two siblings. As another spasm surged across her back, she pressed her hand more forcefully against her spine and bit her lip.

  Hearing Ben’s step ascending the stairs, Rachel straightened from her slouch against the sink and smoothed her features. Pulling the sink’s plug, she drained the initially cool water where the tomatoes had been transferred after their hot water blanching.

  “Find some?” Efficiently cleaning out the sink, she prepared to wash the new jars.

  Jars rattled in the cardboard box as Ben carried them over. “You and your mamm must’ve hit every auction this spring and summer to collect so many of these. Did you outbid everyone in the district?”

  Glancing over as he set the box down on the counter, Rachel assessed whether he was truly upset. Seeing a welcomed hint of his dimple, she began putting the jars in the rising soapy water. “Only the ones that weren’t quick enough. I hope you don’t mind. I told Mamm I’d share some of the canning so she wouldn’t have to put up as much. I used to do it at home as she was busy with the goats and bees. She has a new hired hand now.” Rachel frowned as she washed and rinsed a jar and set it upside down in the drainer to dry. “But I don’t know that he’s working out that well.”

  She raised her eyebrows when Ben picked up a dish towel and began to dry the jar. “Well, I hope Miriam Schrock works out for us. Gideon said the other day that he was picking her up from the bus station tonight.” Setting the dried jar on the table, Ben reached for another one from the drainer. “I think, or at least hope that she was a good choice as a hired girl. If she’s anything like Malachi, Samuel and Gideon, I’m sure she’ll work out fine. Still, I look forward to getting to know her a bit before the boppeli arrive and she moves in.”

  Under the concealing suds, Rachel clenched her hand around a pint jar as another spasm seared her back. She panted quietly through pursed lips. She was afraid they might not have a chance to even meet Miriam before the boppeli arrived.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Ben...”

  Instantly awake, Ben sat up at the sound of Rachel’s voice outside his bedroom door.

  “Coming,” he called as he swung his feet to the floor. Flicking on the flashlight on his nightstand, he pointed it at the small clock there. It wasn’t so much the time that concerned him—shortly after midnight—it was the tone of her voice. The tight, anxious tone. Hastily he donned his clothes and was swinging open the door a moment later.

  Her tone—and her face. Rachel’s face, its paleness emphasized by the fall of her dark hair that framed it, was tight with pain in the glow of the lamp she held. Garbed in the loose gown above her bare feet, she bit her lip as her wide eyes met Ben’s.

  When she grasped his hands, he was surprised at the crushing pressure of her fingers. “The midwife?”

  She nodded.

  Lifting their clasped hands to his lips, Ben kissed the slender back of his wife’s. “I’ll be back from the phone booth as fast as I can.”

  When he would’ve let go, Rachel clung to his hand. “I want my mamm.”

  Ben hissed in a thoughtful breath. While it was only a mile down to the local phone shack, it was several more miles to Susannah Mast’s farm. He didn’t want to leave Rachel alone long enough to travel there and back. Opening his mouth to say so, he slowly closed it again at the pleading evident in her dark eyes.

  “Ach, I already owe Jethro more than I could ever pay. I might as well add this to the list. I’ll see if he’ll go to your farm and bring your mamm here to you. Is that agreeable?”

  Grimacing, she hunched over in mid-nod. Wincing himself, Ben helped her back into her bedroom and assisted her onto the bed. “I shouldn’t be gone too long. Do you need anything before I go?”

  “Just Mrs. Edigers and my mamm.” As he loosened his arms from about her, Rachel reached up to palm his cheek. “And you.”

  He was momentarily stunned at the words and the touch of her hand. Once she removed it, Ben nodded so hard he was afraid his head would snap off his neck. Leaving her on the bed, he rushed to the door, only to stop and turn when he reached it. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dashing out the front door, he was halfway down the sidewalk before he quickly retreated to put on his shoes. A short minute later, he was bridling Sojourner before launching himself on the back of the startled mare. At his urging, the confused horse broke into a gallop as soon as they cleared the barn.

  “I’ll probably never get you back to just trotting with the buggy,” Ben muttered into the mane flying into his face as he leaned over her neck. “I can live with that, if you get us there and back double quick tonight.” After the breathless moonlight run, he vaulted from Sojourner’s back as she slid to a stop in front of the phone shack.

  Flinging the shack’s door open, he was dialing the phone a second later. Mrs. Edigers’s number was taped inside the phone shack, useless in the current darkness of the booth. Fortunately, Ben had the digits memorized from the first time they’d met with the woman. The midwife answered on the second ring.

  “The boppeli are coming!” Ben didn’t identify himself, but either Mrs. Edigers recognized his voice or she’d noted the plural.

  “I’ll grab some things and contact Hannah.”

  Ben recalled how restless Rachel had been when he’d come home from work yesterday. Several times over the evening before they’d gone to their separate bedrooms, he caught her absently rubbing her back. He’d seen her struggle through various discomforts in the past months. Her face tonight told him she’d been in pain for quite a while. “I think she’s been... I think this has been going on a while.”

  “Hmm. All right, we’ll be there shortly.”

  At her calm, steady voice, Ben took his first normal breaths since hearing Rachel’s tense summons at his bedroom door. Hanging up the phone, he stepped out of the booth. Fortunately, Sojy hadn’t wandered off following her wild ride when he’d dropped the reins. Patting her neck, he gathered up the leads and swung onto her back. He turned her in the direction of Jethro Weaver’s small farm, another mile farther up the road.

  Altho
ugh it took a moment for his neighbor to come to the door, Jethro immediately swung it wide upon seeing Ben. He began putting on his shoes as Ben explained why he’d burst in on him in the middle of the night. Without further question, Jethro headed to the barn. Mission accomplished, Ben leaped back onto Sojy and sped home.

  Trusting the mare wouldn’t go any farther than the barn if she wandered, Ben left her at the yard gate and raced into the house. Panting, more from suppressed tension than expended energy, he halted at her partially closed door.

  “Rachel?” His intended whisper came out much harsher than intended in his concern.

  “Come in.” He swung the door open to see her neatly stacking the nightstand with towels, sheets and other paraphernalia. His eyes widened to discover she’d changed into the white birthing gown she’d shyly made in the last few weeks. Her hair was now neatly pinned under a kapp.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Ja. Just glad you’re back. Is my mamm coming?”

  “Jethro’s on his way there now. The midwife’s on her way too.” He scrutinized her from the doorway. Although flushed and sweaty with slight anxiety in her eyes, she otherwise appeared calm. “If you’ll be okay for the moment, I need to take care of Sojy.” At her nod, he turned from the door, only to spin back around at the breathless sound of his name.

  “Ben, we’re finally going to meet them. I can’t believe we’ll be parents soon.”

  Sharing her bemused smile before he ducked out of the doorway, Ben found himself nodding giddily as well as he crossed to the door.

  Although he’d only been back in the house a few minutes after tending to the mare, it seemed like forever before Ben heard a car in the drive, alerting him that help had arrived.

  He met them at the door. Mrs. Edigers and Hannah Bartel gave him encouraging smiles as they hurried past, laden with equipment. When they disappeared through Rachel’s door, he paced the living room, listening for the clatter of hooves on the driveway that would hopefully mean Jethro had been successful in delivering Rachel’s mother.