by Amy Lillard
She could just imagine the joy and wonderment on Reuben’s face if he had been there to place his hand next to hers and feel that soft flutter.
And instinctively she knew. It was the sign she had been looking for.
* * *
“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” Mariana started, gathering up the pieces from their game, more for something to do with her hands than anything else.
Reuben perked up. “I didn’t want to ask,” he said haltingly.
She nodded. “I think maybe it is a good idea that we get married.” She looked at the game pieces in her hand, the floor, the box where Candy slept, and out the window. Any place but in Reuben’s searching green eyes. “Later, of course. The babies are due in September, but the doctor thinks they’ll probably come in August. He said twins usually come early. So maybe December?”
“What’s wrong with November or October? Those are good months to get married.”
“Jah, I suppose.” She chanced a look back in his direction.
He was staring intently at her as if he could see straight through her lie of an expression to her very soul. “I think this may be a bad idea,” he said. His expression saddened until it was as dark as a storm cloud and twice as miserable.
“It’s not that. It’s just that . . .” But she didn’t know how to finish.
“I understand,” Reuben said. “I know what you and Leroy had was special. And I don’t want you to think that you have to marry me. I just wanted to take care of you, that’s all. It wasn’t right of me to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
He pushed to his feet and stalked across the room. “You are. You’re so uncomfortable you can’t even look into my face.”
Candy whined as he raised his voice. Then he seemed to pull himself back together. “It was a bad idea. I should have thought about it more before I said anything.”
“I wish you would stop saying that. I just agreed to marry you.”
He stared out the window, not bothering to move his gaze to her as he spoke. “I’m not trying to belittle what you shared with Leroy. I’m not trying to make that less than what it was.”
“I know. And . . . And my life with Leroy wasn’t perfect.” She couldn’t believe the words had come out of her mouth. But once they started, she couldn’t stop them. “You didn’t see him at the very end. You didn’t see how bad he progressed. Every day it grew harder and harder. He was different when company was here, when the bishop would come over or a neighbor. Then he seemed more like himself, but somehow with me—” She shook her head. “It was as if he didn’t know me, as if I was somehow at fault. He changed until he became a person I didn’t know anymore. You didn’t belittle anything we had. The cancer did. And I lost my husband twice. Once when he stopped being himself and the second time when I buried him.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice returned to a normal tone, even lower, softer, more concerned.
“What difference would it have made?”
He thought about it a second. “I don’t know.”
“It would have only changed how he felt about me and I felt about him. It wouldn’t have changed anything, not what the disease did to him. I loved him with all my heart, but when he died he set us both free.”
Reuben crossed the room in an instant. He knelt by the bed and clasped her hands in his. “I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered in return. He tugged on her hands until they were eye to eye and nose to nose. Then he tenderly kissed her forehead.
Mariana closed her eyes, relishing the small token of affection. It had been so long since she’d had even the gentlest of touches.
“I promise you,” Reuben said. “We’ll only remember the good times. The bad ones will be forgotten. And then we’ll make more good memories. You’ll keep your journal and we’ll tell the babies all about their father and all the wonderful things he did. And that’s all anyone ever needs to remember of Leroy Miller.”
* * *
“Are you sure this is okay?” Reuben cast a quick glance in her direction.
“I told you, the doctor said it would be fine.”
Even as she said the words, Reuben slowed the buggy. They were barely going at a crawl. “If we go much slower than this, we’re never going to make it to church.”
A wrinkled frown creased his forehead. “Better make it late than not in one piece.” He pulled back on the reins again. If they went much slower, they might just be at a stop. “I should have asked the bishop to let me bring the tractor.”
Mariana laughed. “Like a tractor rides any smoother than a buggy and horse.”
“I think so.”
All in all, it really didn’t matter to her. She was outside. She had been released from total bed rest. At her last doctor’s appointment, her blood pressure had been lower and everything looked good. The doctor said the babies’ heartbeats were strong, and he told her that she could go to church but with stipulations.
She adjusted the pillow at her back and shifted on top of the one she sat on. It felt strange to have such a cushion in an Amish buggy. She supposed that if she kept this up, she might not ever want to go back to the old way.
“I called the bishop and left a message to make sure. He said that Eli Miller would have a nice cushion chair for you in the back room during the service. I don’t want you to sit for three hours on one of those hard benches.”
“I already called. Are you forgetting they’re my in-laws?”
“In-laws or not, I wanted to make sure you had a chair.”
Mariana smiled, still loving the feel of the breeze on her face. She only wished the buggy was topless so she could actually have the sun on her shoulders. She was just so happy to be out of the house for the first time in over a month.
“There’s no telling what they think. I called them, then you called, and then the bishop.” She laughed.
Reuben pulled down the Millers’ driveway, lining up his buggy with the several already parked there. Before he even set the parking brake, Aaron Miller was there to put the horse in the pasture.
Mariana slid the door open and Aaron gave her a hand down. “Danki,” she said.
He nodded in her direction. “You look well.”
She smiled. “I feel well.”
“Mamm has a chair all set up for you. We wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.” His brown gaze flickered from Mariana to Reuben and then back. But he said nothing.
“Thank you, Aaron.”
He gave a quick nod as she and Reuben made their way across the yard to the house.
She wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t been to church in so long, or because she showed up with Reuben, or maybe because it was becoming more and more apparent that she was going to have a baby—correction, babies—but it seemed as if all eyes had turned to them.
She glanced at Reuben, but if he had noticed, he made no remark. He simply walked next to her, his steps slow as if not to tire her, his eyes straight ahead.
“Let’s get you settled down before everyone else comes in.”
She nodded and he clasped her elbow and assisted her up the steps, across the porch, and into the Miller house.
She had been there too many times to count, seeing as how she was married to Eli Miller’s brother, and she knew her way around.
She steered Reuben toward the living area of the Miller house. Like many Amish homes, it had sliding walls that pushed back to allow for extra room. The church benches were already in place, along with padded seats in the back for the infirm. She’d never before thought she would be among them, sitting in the back like some sort of queen. But she had a feeling that if she went against the doctor’s orders and sat on the regular benches, Reuben would have a heart attack before the service was over from worrying about her so much.
“Do you think you will be comfortable enough here?” Reube
n asked.
“Of course,” Mariana said. “I’m not broken, just . . . You know.”
“I don’t want the doctor to regret allowing you to come here.”
“He’s not going to, though I’m starting to wonder if this is a good idea. Now leave me be and go do what men do before church.”
He seemed as if he was about to protest, then changed his mind. With his lips pressed firmly together, he nodded once, then reluctantly walked away.
Mariana sank down into one of the padded chairs lined up across the back of the room. She wasn’t sure how long she would be able to attend church services in the upcoming months, and she was grateful to have this time today.
“I’m so glad you made it.” Gertie Miller stopped by Mariana’s chair and squeezed her hand. She had been by the house a couple of times since Mariana had gone on bed rest, but with Jonah having as many problems as he was and a house full of teenagers in rumspringa, Mariana knew Gertie had already more than she could handle.
“I’m so glad to be here.” Of course it would be better to be outside, but even the change in room was a blessing to Mariana. She hoped that if she could take it easy today, make it through this without getting herself overtired or making her blood pressure rise too much, she might be able to make short trips to town. How wonderful would it be to go into Wells Landing and grab a piece of pie and a cup of coffee at Kauffman’s. Oh, the things a person took for granted when all was right in the world.
“Did I see you come in with Reuben Weisel?” Gertie asked.
“Yes, he’s been a great help to me since Leroy passed.”
Gertie nodded, but Mariana noticed that her eyes were guarded. “That’s good. That’s good.”
The tone of her voice alone was enough to let Mariana know that Gertie Miller, for whatever reason, did not approve of her being seen out with Reuben Weisel. Mariana supposed it was because it had only been a couple of months since Leroy had died, but there was no way that Gertie could know the tragedy that Mariana had suffered at Leroy’s hands. However unintentional, the hurt still remained. And the fact that she was now alone and pregnant and unable to care for herself played a big part in the decisions she made.
She wanted to tell Gertie that Reuben had asked her to marry him and she was going to do so, but she bit her tongue and smiled. Some people she was friends with because she loved them and they loved her in return, and other people she had to be friends with because she had to be friends with them. For Mariana, Gertie Miller was one of this last group of people. Oh, she seemed nice enough, and Mariana supposed that she was. But their personalities were different and they seemed to clash whenever they were in the same room. Mariana had hoped now that Leroy was gone it would be different. Wishful thinking at its finest.
“Thank you for getting me a chair out today and the pillows too.”
“Yes,” Gertie said. It was apparent to Mariana that extra cushions were not on Gertie’s list of top priorities for a church service.
“Well, I must go now. Lots of things to do to finish up.”
Mariana nodded and murmured something that must’ve passed as a farewell, for Gertie moved away, leaving her thankfully alone. But not for long.
James Riehl came in, his sunglasses firmly in place. He had started wearing them a year so ago to help block out the sunlight and help him focus. With his traumatic head injury, it was hard for him to tolerate bright lights and loud noises. But after witnessing his grin, Mariana thought that perhaps he just liked wearing the glasses.
He sat down next to her, though he perched on the edge of his seat. She knew in a few moments, before church started, he would move to the opposite side, where chairs had been lined up behind where the men sat.
“It’s good to see you here, Mariana Miller,” he said. His eyes skimmed over her dress and she hoped that he remembered she was in mourning. He gave a small nod. “It’s good to be at church, jah?”
Mariana smiled. “It is.”
“I like church,” James said. “Except for the shirt.” He plucked at his white shirt, so crisp and clean underneath his black vest. “I don’t see why we can’t wear purple.”
Mariana did her best to stop her smile. She wouldn’t want James to think that she was laughing at him. But since his head injury, he had become obsessed with the color purple and wondered why everyone didn’t wear it every day. She’d seen him in town and he was always wearing some shade of the royal color. In fact, other than church when he had to wear white, she didn’t think she’d seen him in anything else.
“I suppose they feel white is purer,” Mariana suggested.
James seemed to think about it a moment. “I guess. But purple sure is prettier.”
Mariana smiled, so glad that she got to come out today. “That it is, James. That it is.”
He moved away as everyone began to file in from outside. First the men came in and seated themselves, followed by the women, who took to the opposite side. Mariana couldn’t help but watch for Reuben to come in. The men looked so handsome in their church attire. And she wondered what Reuben would look like with a beard. He would start growing one just after they got married. Her heart gave a funny pound in her chest. She was really going to do this. She was getting married again, and as much as she wanted to pretend that it was just to take care of the babies . . . Well, that’s what it was, just pretending.
As if sensing her gaze on him, he turned, his green eyes catching hers. He gave a small smile and turned back to face the preacher.
Mariana’s breath caught in her chest. Yes, it was just pretending. She had done the unthinkable. She had fallen in love with Reuben Weisel. The thought nearly took her breath away. How had this happened? She had buried her husband only a few weeks before. But that wasn’t entirely true, she thought as she continued to stare at Reuben’s profile. She had said good-bye to Leroy months ago, sitting in a doctor’s office with a bleak prognosis. An inoperable tumor that would take away his self, his memory, and eventually his life.
His cancer was such that it’d been hard to find, even harder to diagnose, and by the time they knew what treatment was needed, it was too late. Not that she suspected Leroy would have done anything differently. He was that kind of man, willing to accept God’s will for what it was. That was how she knew that he would not go in for any treatment, he would not fight it. He had something wrong with his brain, and that something had to be part of God’s will. So she had said her good-byes to him long before he had become something different, long before he turned into someone she didn’t recognize.
She dragged her gaze from Reuben only to have it clash with that of Gertie Miller. Her sister-in-law’s eyes narrowed as she traced the line of Mariana’s stare. Gertie couldn’t understand. She couldn’t know everything that Mariana had gone through. She didn’t know what it was like to have to deal with the loss of a spouse, the loss of love, and the loss of a best friend.
Mariana looked away. Reuben had asked her to marry him, and that was all there was to it. And with the bishop’s permission they would get married while Mariana was still in mourning. It was a unique situation. They had babies to take care of, and she needed Reuben so much more than he claimed he needed her. She could only pray that he never found anyone else he truly loved. Not that she doubted that he loved her. She felt more that he loved the idea of her, the idea of having something similar to what she and Leroy once had. She just prayed that she could give him that and more. It might take a while, but eventually perhaps their marriage could be real, a loving and caring partnership as they raised children and grew old together.
She wasn’t under the impression that she was young enough to have any more children. The babies she carried now were a gift that she hadn’t expected. It would probably be best for her not to get pregnant again, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the babies that they would share now. But as she pulled her gaze from Gertie’s disapproving one, she knew not everybody in Wells Landing would be happy concerning their decision.
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Chapter Seven
Somehow Mariana talked Reuben into letting her stay at least through the meal. She wouldn’t serve the meal, and simply rested with the other infirm and elderly. But she wanted to stay out as much as possible. She knew Reuben had wanted to agree, otherwise he wouldn’t have given in to her pleas for normalcy.
She supposed she was worried that it wouldn’t be long before she was right back where she was last week, completely confined to the bed once again without a once-a-week outing to break it up. She wanted this to last as long as possible.
“Did I see you arrive with Reuben Weisel?” Linda Miller Stoltzfoos came up to her from behind.
“Jah,” Mariana said before she could think the answer through. Linda was sister to Leroy and Jonah’s dad, Eli. Unfortunately, Linda had about as much approval for Mariana as Gertie did. She wasn’t sure what she had done to earn these women’s scorn, but it was there all the same. Oh, they were nice enough to her on the outside, but she was constantly left out of sister days and other such activities, and she had been for years. Once Leroy got sick, their excuses not to invite her became valid and inarguable. Not that she cared. She would rather hang around the quilting circle gang than anyone else. They might all be part of the same community, but that didn’t mean they all needed to be friends.
“Interesting,” Linda said. “Seeing as how Leroy has only been gone a short time.”
“Leroy’s been gone a lot longer than that,” Mariana said. She wanted to continue with, “If you had visited more, then you would realize that.” But she managed to keep those words out of her mouth.
“Jah, well, I just think it’s odd for you to be taking up with a man when you’re pregnant.” Linda’s pale blue eyes flashed with something that Mariana didn’t recognize. “You are pregnant? Right?”