by Sarah Price
Embarrassed, Belle felt her cheeks heat up. She was glad for the darkness so that he could not see her blush.
“You know nothing about me.”
“That’s not true!” She pressed her lips together, searching for the right words. How could she reach this man? This isolated hermit of a man who did not interact with people? There must be something she could say to reach him. “I . . . I know that you were badly wounded. I know that you hide on your farm, concealing yourself from others. But I also know that you’re a person and people feel. People have emotions. So I implore you to consider how we feel being chased from our only home.”
“I care as much for other people’s feelings as they have chosen to care for mine.”
“That’s not very Christian,” she said too quickly, and instantly regretted her tone, which sounded as if she were scolding him. Quickly, she tried to regroup. Arguing with him would get her nowhere. “How could you want us to be homeless? Or anyone, for that matter.”
“I want that farm.”
She wished she had the courage to ask him the one question that lingered on her lips: Why? Instead, she lifted her chin. “Surely there is something else you might want. You have this farm, after all. And . . .” She looked around. Outside the stable’s open door, she could see piles of garbage, trash that had accumulated over the years. Weeds grew through what appeared to have once been landscaping. She could almost imagine that, many years ago, the Hershberger farm had been perfectly manicured, tended with love. Clearly that was no longer the case. “With the exception of the stable, it seems you have more work than you can handle.”
He remained silent for a long moment. This time, Belle was determined to follow his example. She, too, refused to speak, choosing to wait for him to say something of his own accord.
A few minutes passed, the two of them standing there—Belle where he could see her, Adam where she could not see him.
“Something else that I might want?” he said at last, repeating her words as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth. “From what I understand, there is nothing else for your daed to give. He has a mortgage, little equity, and nothing saved. What else could your father give me that is as valuable as that farm?”
Belle shut her eyes, saying a quick prayer to God that she would say the right thing. Please Lord, help me to know your will. A gust of wind blew through the yard, and she heard the screen door to the house slam against the door frame. Quickly, she opened her eyes. “A housekeeper. You need a housekeeper. Mayhaps I . . . I might volunteer to clean your haus in exchange for letting us remain on the farm, where we always have lived.”
The dark outline of the man appeared to toss back his head, and she heard him laugh. His reaction struck her as strange. What person could possibly enjoy living in such squalor? Clearly he understood about keeping things organized and tidy. The horse and mule stable was well maintained and clean. And while not all Amish women valued cleanliness of the home in the same way, all the Amish knew that taking care of one’s property, including the home, was a tribute to God.
“Clean the haus?” he repeated when he finally stopped laughing. “Why on earth would that be something of interest to me?”
“Your haus is a disaster.” She hadn’t meant to speak her mind in such a forward manner. But as soon as the words slipped past her lips, she was glad. “A disgrace.”
That noise, so low and grumbly, escaped his throat. For a moment, she feared that she had gone too far. Insulting a complete stranger was not something she had ever done before, and for a second, she considered apologizing.
But he spoke first, with a contemplative “I see.” She heard him shift his weight, his feet shuffling against some scattered straw on the ground. “You’re rather opinionated about my property, considering you were not invited to my farm, never mind to explore my haus.”
She saw him move about in the shadow, as if pacing for just a few steps. When he stopped, she realized that his back was turned to her so that, even if there were light, she could not see his face.
“There is one thing I lack that your daed could give to me,” he said at last. He turned his body just enough so that she could see his outline. She realized how tall he was, and his body appeared to be in good shape. Farmwork would do that to a man. But she wished—oh, how she wished!—that he would step closer to her. “Something far more valuable than the farm, something that would be worthy of my solving your family’s financial problems.”
Belle could hardly believe her ears, and immediately she brightened at Adam’s sudden change of heart. Prior to that moment, she had feared that all was lost, that Adam would force her family from their home. Despite her previous dread of approaching him, she had convinced herself that, deep down, he must be a truly good man. Now she knew that she had been led by God to reach out to Adam in order to help her family. Surely God must have touched the man’s cold heart. Thank you, Lord! she said to herself. I knew that I should trust you.
“What is it?” she asked Adam, eager to hear what solution he had for her. “I’m sure and certain my daed will oblige!”
He chuckled under his breath. “Indeed, but will you?”
“Oh, ja! Anything. Anything for the farm.”
“If you are so certain,” he said, “then I imagine you will readily agree.”
Belle’s excitement was suddenly dampened. “It’s not up to me to agree on behalf of my daed. But I’m certain he will, ja.”
“Nee, not your daed. It may be his possession, but it is yours to agree to actually give.”
Now she was confused. “Me?” She frowned. “What is it you want from my daed ?”
This time, he spun around and slowly extended his arm out of the shadow as he pointed his finger directly at her. “A wife.”
The color drained from her face, and she felt her heart beat faster. Surely he must be teasing, she told herself, despite suspecting that Adam Hershberger was not the sort of man who jested with others. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t imagine that he would possibly think any woman would agree to such an arrangement.
“A wife?” she repeated. “Are . . . are you asking me to marry you?” His silence answered her question. Suddenly, she felt as if she were floating above her body, watching the scene unfold from someone else’s perspective. “Why would you want a wife?” she managed to ask in a soft, frightened voice. “Why would you want to marry me?”
He wasted no time in answering her. “I need a son. Someone to leave the farm to.”
Of course, she thought. He had no false notions of romance or marital partnership, just the need of a broodmare to produce an offspring. “I find your offer highly offensive,” she snapped.
She could see that he shrugged his shoulders. “Mayhaps, but the decision is yours to make. I own the farm. If, however, you marry me, I will sign it over to your daed after the birth of our first son, as long as he inherits the farm.”
“First son?” She almost laughed, not believing that she was engaged in such a discussion. “You almost suggest there might be a second!”
He cleared his throat.
“I would never barter myself for such an outrageous exchange!” she added. While she had not been courted by anyone yet and, unlike her sisters, had no current interest in a husband, she wanted to marry for love and to someone who would make her happy. Adam’s proposal was preposterous. She would have married Gabriel if she were inclined to sacrifice herself in such a manner.
“Then we have nothing further to discuss. I win either way. Your family, however, does not.”
Just as suddenly as he had appeared, Adam vanished. She saw his dark form slip through a narrow, dark doorway that she had not noticed earlier.
Left alone in the stable, Belle turned around and covered her face with her hands. How could God have led her to this? No, she yelled to herself. It wasn’t God but Satan. Surely Satan’s hand was behind this, wanting her to make a deal with a man she not only didn’t know but had never even clearly seen!
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And yet, something tugged inside of her. If she refused his offer, her family would have to move. Her father would have to start over again, as would the rest of them. He’d have to leave his workshop. They’d have to relocate somewhere else and, most likely, without any furniture or provisions for the winter. They’d live off of whatever money her father managed to keep from the sale of the farm after paying off his debts. She had no idea how much he owed. She only knew that paying their bills had grown increasingly difficult over the past few years. Most likely, both of her sisters would have to work in a store or hire themselves out to keep house, something neither of them was very good at doing. Without any friends or history in the new town, it would be hard for them to find husbands, and that would create more stress on the family.
Say yes, a voice whispered inside of her.
For a moment, she thought she had heard someone actually speak those words. She lowered her hands and looked around, but she was alone.
How could she say yes? Could God actually approve of such a sacrifice? Or was she making a deal with Satan? She wished she knew.
And then the wind stopped and the sun broke through the clouds. A ray of light shone through the open door of the stable and covered her in a golden light. She turned to face it and took a step so that her entire body was bathed in its warmth.
Say yes, the voice within her whispered again.
She took a deep breath. Dear Lord, she prayed, please tell me if this is a sign. Is this Your will?
From outside the door, she saw a yellow finch flying. It landed on the end of an old clothesline, or what remained of it. The wheel looked rusty, the rope long gone. Rather than flutter away, the finch opened its beak and began to sing. The sweet, sharp notes seemed to echo in her head.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered. The yellow finch appeared to look at her, as if it had understood her words. And then it took off, as if it had accomplished its mission. In a louder voice, Belle called out, “I’ll do it! I’ll agree to marry you if you let my family stay on the farm.”
For a few long, drawn-out seconds, she heard nothing. If he didn’t respond, she would hurry out of the stable and down the lane. She’d let her feet carry her far away from Adam Hershberger’s dreadful farm, and she’d forget that all of this ever happened. But as luck would have it, he had heard her.
“Two weeks from Thursday. We’ll be married then.”
His words, so quick to confirm their agreement, sent a chill through her. Two weeks? How could she possibly prepare herself for marrying anyone, never-mind a man like Adam Hershberger, in just two weeks? She glanced over her shoulder in the direction from which his voice came. “It’s not even wedding season yet,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Two weeks.” He spoke with such firmness that Belle knew there was nothing she could say to change his mind. “Otherwise, your family will be removed from my farm.”
And then he was gone, this time for good.
With a heavy heart, Belle turned away. It was done. She had saved her father’s farm, but at what expense? Her happiness was forfeit, that was for certain. But she had given her sisters a chance to find husbands and her father a chance to re-create his prototype. Perhaps that was all anyone ever needed, including Adam . . . a chance.
Slowly, she began to walk down the road, each step feeling as if she were approaching her doom. She had no idea how she would tell her father or what he would say. The only thing she knew was that she had given her word, and, as her father had declared before her, her word was not something she would break.
Chapter Seven
By Sunday, Belle still had not found the courage to tell her father about her arrangement with Adam. Every time she tried to gather the strength of will, she broke down in tears and left the room. She was certain that her father believed she was upset about the family having to leave. Both of her sisters behaved in a similar manner, wandering aimlessly through a house that no longer belonged to them. Only Belle, however, realized that it could still belong to them, but only as long as she married Adam Hershberger. And that thought would send her off to her room in another fit of tears, something she found increasingly difficult to avert.
If she had hoped she would be able to keep her secret to herself for even a few more days, she found out soon enough that she had been mistaken.
No sooner had they arrived at the Riehls’ farm for Sunday worship than she saw the bishop leaving the group of men to approach her. It was only on very rare occasions that she interacted with him, not because he was standoffish or uninterested, but merely because she simply did not have any reason to converse with him. He had been the bishop of their church district for as long as she could remember. He had even presided over her baptism two years earlier.
Now, as he asked to speak to her, she realized that he would soon be presiding over something else in her life, something second in importance only to her baptismal vows: her wedding.
“I had the strangest visitor to my haus just last evening,” the bishop started somberly. His dark eyes stared at her from behind his small wire-framed glasses, the lenses smudged with fingerprints. There was no mistaking the intent expression on his face. “You can hardly imagine my surprise, Belle, when Adam Hershberger stood on my doorstep to inform me that I should announce his wedding banns after worship today.” He reached up and tugged lightly at the end of his white beard, which hung past the first button on his shirt. That simple gesture gave Belle the impression that the bishop felt uncomfortable. “Is it true, then?”
Belle licked her lips and glanced around, nervous that her father might overhear. If the bishop announced the banns, her father was much less likely to put a stop to her betrothal to Adam. Then she would not have to face her father and tell him that she was getting married. He would learn it at the same time as the rest of the community. “Ja, Bishop, it’s true.”
The bishop blinked his eyes as he studied her face. “Adam Hershberger?”
She nodded.
“Are you sure about this?” He paused and placed his hand upon her arm. “How well do you know this man?”
Belle lifted her chin and refused to look away from the bishop. How could she possibly hide the truth from him? He had known her for most of her life. His role was to lead the church district in both earthly and divine matters. Yet what did he really know about her? How often had they interacted besides a few conversations throughout the year and biblical teachings during her instructional period, prior to her taking the kneeling vow when she officially joined the church? That was it. She cleared her throat and said, “I know him well enough that I agreed to marry him.”
Slowly, the bishop shook his head. “Does this have anything to do with your daed selling the farm? If it does, I don’t have to announce the banns, and we can go to Adam together to discuss the matter.”
But Belle remained firm. “I’d prefer that you just announce the banns, Bishop.”
The bishop exhaled and gave her a sorrowful look. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, Annabelle.”
“Mayhaps not, but I believe God has led me to this decision.”
After a long, thoughtful moment, the bishop finally nodded. “Who am I to question that?” But there was no joy in his eyes.
At the end of the three-hour worship service, the bishop stood before the congregation, which was divided in the middle so that the women sat on the right and the men on the left. He took a few steps, pacing the floor in much the same manner that Adam had done when Belle spoke with him. She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, focusing on nothing but the space on the wall behind the bishop. She heard him clear his throat and begin to speak, declaring that he had a wedding announcement. A slight murmur broke out among the congregation, but it was quickly silenced.
Belle knew what everyone was thinking: who needed to marry so quickly outside of wedding season? It didn’t happen often, and when it did, there was always speculation. Of a bad kind. Belle knew only too well that,
once the bishop mentioned her name as the woman marrying Adam, the other members of the g’may would begin to wonder if she might be in a family way. What else they might think, Belle had no idea. But she didn’t want to see any of them when they turned to look at her, surprised at the fact that not only was she marrying, but that she was marrying the one man in Echo Creek that people thought would never marry at all.
“Annabelle Beiler and . . .”
The murmur began, and Belle could feel the eyes as people turned to watch her. She forced herself to continue looking straight ahead.
“. . . Adam Hershberger will be married on Thursday next.”
A collective gasp came from the women around her. Belle remained stoic, even though she felt her pulse quicken and her palms begin to feel clammy. She realized that everyone was silent . . . and still staring at her. Despite focusing on the wall straight ahead, out of the corner of her eye Belle saw her two sisters leaning forward to try to catch her attention. But Belle remained composed and determined to show no emotion.
Immediately after the service ended, the men began transforming the benches used during worship into tables, carefully slipping the legs of each bench into a trestle while the younger boys collected the Ausbund hymnbooks to store in a crate for the next service in two weeks. Belle avoided the women as she went about her task of setting the table for the fellowship meal. But she felt the furtive glances from both the older women and her peers.
At first, no one approached her, and she thought that she might escape without having to answer questions. She noticed that Ella and Sadie stood near the kitchen, whispering to each other and looking in her direction. Belle made certain to avoid working near them. But just as she was finishing setting the plates on the table for the men, her sisters caught up to her.
“What is this news?” Verna hissed. “Adam Hershberger? Are you ferhoodled?”
Susie chimed in. “Belle, what have you done?”
Verna glanced around. “We’ll be the laughingstock of the church! Oh, what will Jacob think now?”