by Sarah Price
Belle lay in bed, motionless, as she listened to the sound of Adam’s footsteps approaching the side of the bed. She kept her eyes closed, even though the room was too dark to see anything. He must have stayed there for ten . . . maybe fifteen . . . minutes. And then, just as quietly, he left, making certain to close the door behind him.
Because her door was often ajar in the morning, she had guessed that Adam often peeked in, but this was the first time she’d been awake enough to realize he actually came into the room. In fact, for weeks now, every night she left a small piece of thread on the doorknob. Just in case, she told herself, she was dreaming. Every morning, the thread lay on the hardwood floor, and she’d know again that he’d come to her room.
But he never woke her; never attempted to touch her.
On her first morning at Adam’s farm, she had felt scared and apprehensive when she’d realized that Adam had come into the bedroom. She worried that he would blame her for having gone to sleep. Now, weeks later, Belle found that her fear had turned to frustration. How could they possibly be husband and wife if he never once addressed the physical aspect of marriage? And yet, there was something protective and romantic about Adam coming upstairs and watching her while she slept—as if he felt the need to check on her at night, even if he never once spoke about the fact that he did it!
It was just one more mystery revolving around the man she called her husband.
She had set out for town before he came to the house for his breakfast. After leaving his plate of food on the table, Belle hurried out the front door, eager to get away from the farm. She needed time to think, to be alone . . . something she found ironic, since she spent most of her days alone and thinking.
When she rounded the curve in the road near her father’s farm, she was surprised to see that the barn had been painted. With the overgrown bushes cleared and the fencing fixed, the farm was looking especially prosperous. She felt a pang of resentment, knowing that her family was finally living the life that they always should have. But as soon as she identified that feeling, she shook her head and prayed for forgiveness. Hadn’t that been the reason she’d agreed to marry Adam? So her family could stay in Echo Creek? The last thing she should feel was resentment. Instead, she should feel joy that her sacrifice had proven exactly what her father needed to turn things around.
The bell over the door to Troyers’ store jingled as Belle stepped inside. She had a basket slung over her arm in anticipation of her purchases: flour, sugar, yeast, and a few other dry goods. And, of course, a book.
“Belle Hershberger!”
She looked up at the sound of her name being called out from the back of the store. Ella was working there and greeted her with a smile. “Gut morgan,” she said as Ella hurried around the front counter. They embraced each other. “How are you, Ella?”
“Fine, all things considering. And you?”
Belle shrugged. She wasn’t about to attempt to hide her heartache over the previous evening. “As well as can be expected, I reckon.”
Ella gave her an empathetic look. “I’m sorry, Belle. I wish things would get better for you and Adam.”
Exhaling, Belle changed the subject. “How are things in Echo Creek? I feel so out of it, living way outside town.”
Ella glanced over her shoulder as if looking for someone, and when she saw no one, she grabbed Belle’s hand and led her down an aisle far away from the front counter. “Oh, Belle. The craziest thing has happened!”
“What is it?”
“Sadie. She’s gone missing.”
Belle gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, help!”
Solemnly, Ella nodded her head. “Ja, missing. No one knows where she is. Her daed’s distraught as all get-out.”
“I imagine so!”
And then Ella narrowed her eyes as she leaned closer so that she could whisper into Belle’s ear. “Sadie had told me that her stepmother was up to something. I think Sadie has run away.”
Another gasp. Belle’s hand went to the base of her throat. Run away? While she knew that Sadie’s stepmother had never been fond of her stepdaughter, what could possibly have happened to make Sadie run away? “I will pray for her.”
Ella nodded. “That’s all we can do, I fear. Pray.”
“And what about you?”
Ella shrugged in a noncommittal way. “There’s a big youth gathering next spring. At the lake. My schwesters are saving every dime to attend, but Maem says I cannot go.”
That wasn’t surprising. Linda Troyer never let Ella do any of the fun things that she let her own daughters do. “Well, you have time, don’t you think? Mayhaps she’ll change her mind.”
But Ella didn’t look too convinced.
“I wonder if Verna and Susie will go.”
At the mention of Belle’s sisters, Ella stiffened.
“What is it, Ella? Tell me.”
Ella made a face. “Hasn’t Susie told you? I hear that Gabriel intends to ask the bishop to announce his engagement to her.”
Belle rolled her eyes. Why didn’t that surprise her? Apparently one Beiler sister was just as good as another, in Gabriel’s eyes. “I wish them all the best.” She tried to sound happy, but it was forced. “How everything seems to change,” Belle lamented. “I’m not certain I like being a grown-up after all. Life was so much easier when I was still a child.”
At this, Ella gave a soft sigh. “Oh, Belle, how sad. True, but sad. It was easier when my daed and maem were alive. But we can’t stay children, can we? Besides, Belle, you don’t know what plans God has in store for you.”
Belle saw the truth in what her friend had said. Agreeing with Ella, she nodded her head. “Enough about such things.” Forcing a weak smile, she glanced over her shoulder at the bookshelves. “Now, show me the new books that have come in. Surely Linda can’t fault you for spending time with me if you’re helping me to shop!”
Thirty minutes later, Belle selected two books and placed them in her basket. As she walked next to Ella toward the front of the store, her eyes caught sight of the fabric table. There were new bolts of fabric set on display, and one of them caught her attention.
“Oh, ja, isn’t that a pretty color?” Ella ran her hand over the beautiful bolt of yellow fabric. Unlike the pale yellow that was usually used by Amish women, this bolt was so brilliant and beautiful that Belle had only seen that color in one other place: the sunflowers in Ella’s garden. “I don’t know how the bishop will react to that bright color,” Ella said, “but I’m sure he’ll have something to say.”
“It’s breathtaking.”
The bell over the door jingled, and Ella sighed. “You keep looking while I see if that customer needs help. And I can fetch that list of dry goods you need.” Ella started to walk away. “No hurry on your part.”
Belle pulled out the bolt of yellow cloth and ran her hand over it. It was soft, a polyester and cotton blend. And there was a pattern to it, hardly visible to the eye. Stripes that were just a shade lighter than the brilliant yellow, which made it look as if the sun were hitting it. Oh, how she would have loved to wear a dress made of that fabric. She glanced at the price written on the cardboard. Almost ten dollars a yard! Immediately, Belle put back the bolt of fabric and stepped away from the table. That was far too dear for her budget, that was for sure and certain.
With one last longing glance at the fabric, Belle took a deep breath and turned around, startled to bump into someone. “Oh!” She dropped her basket and knelt down to retrieve it. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see . . .” But she stopped in midsentence as she recognized the boots standing before her. “Adam?”
Quickly she stood, her basket once again tucked onto her arm.
He stood there, his hat in his hand as he stared down at her.
“What are you doing here?” Belle asked.
His face was pale, and she thought his eyes looked bloodshot.
“Are you unwell?” She started to reach up and touch his forehead, but he took
her wrist in his hand.
“Nee, Belle, I’m not unwell.” He paused, glancing into her basket. “Not now, anyway.”
She tilted her head. It was still early in the morning. She knew his chore schedule kept him busy with the cows until well after ten o’clock. “Why are you here, then?”
He shifted his weight and softened his grip on her wrist. “I . . . I thought you had left.”
“I did leave. To come to town.”
“But your clothes . . .”
She pursed her lips. Had he gone into her bedroom and noticed that her clothes were not hanging from the hooks in the wall? Had he thought she had left him? Over their argument the night before? “They are hanging to dry in the basement, Adam. Truly you are ferhoodled if you think I ran back to my daed.”
“Ferhoodled.” He nodded his head. “Ja, mayhaps I am ferhoodled.”
She remembered the last time that he had thought she left him. He had come to town and found her during that altercation she had with John Grimm. Why was he so convinced that she would leave him? Hadn’t she proven her commitment to their arrangement? “Ella is fetching my things. I best go pay for them.”
He nodded, but his eyes never left her as she hurried to the front of the store to pay.
Ella raised an eyebrow, obviously aware that Adam had entered the store. “Everything all right, then?” she whispered.
“Ja, I reckon so.”
After paying, Belle gave her friend a smile. “Let me know when you hear anything about Sadie.”
“Of course. I’ll come out to the farm right away.”
Belle took her purchases and placed them into her basket. At least she wouldn’t have to walk home carrying the weight of the items she had bought.
Outside, Adam was waiting near the buggy. He paid no attention to the people who passed by and stared. Neither did Belle. While she would probably never get used to it, she knew she could simply ignore the inquisitive gazes of people who were less accepting of the way Adam looked.
Taking the basket from her, Adam helped her into the buggy and then climbed in beside her. He leaned over the seat, setting the basket on the back floor. And then he urged the horse to back up so that he could turn around.
As soon as they were on the road leading away from town, Adam cleared his throat. “I thought about what you said, Belle. Not just last night, but last week. When it was raining out.”
It took her a moment to remember. She had followed him to the barn, and he had stormed inside, forbidding her to follow him. Standing in the rain, listening to the thunder, Belle had shouted out that she could never learn to love him if he didn’t show her who he was. She hadn’t even known that he had heard her.
“And I apologize.”
“Oh, Adam . . .”
He held up one hand. “Nee, let me finish.”
Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she nodded. “All right, then. Go ahead.”
He licked his lower lip and remained silent for a long moment. Another buggy passed them, and to her surprise, Adam lifted his hand to wave at the other driver, who looked equally as surprised as she was.
“And I’m willing to try.”
She felt her heart beat faster. “Try what, Adam?”
He gave her a quick glance. “Try to let you know who I am.”
“Oh!” It came out in a breathless whoosh. “Adam!” She reached out and wrapped her hand under his arm. “What glorious news!”
She felt him stiffen. “It won’t be easy for me, Belle. You don’t know what it’s like to be me. To be abandoned and teased. To live alone with no hope.”
“There’s always hope, Adam. The Bible tells us so.”
He shook his head. “Even Job felt that God had abandoned him.”
“But when God spoke to Job about his mighty acts of creation, Job was humbled and realized that, despite all of the bad things that happened to him, God was still in control.”
Adam seemed to contemplate that, and after reflecting upon her words, he nodded his head. “Ja, I reckon so.”
Silence befell them once again.
Belle leaned against the seat back and watched the farms along the sides of the roads. Drying cornstalks would be cut and shocked soon. Most farmers had cut their last batch of hay. It was the end of one harvest, but that only meant a period of dormancy before a new one was planted. Perhaps this was the moment of Adam’s new harvest.
The buggy grew warm, and Belle struggled to open the window in her door. But it was stuck. Adam reached over and easily slid it back.
And then, to her surprise, he started to remove his black coat. He slid his arms out and pushed his coat onto the back seat. When he took the reins in both hands again, Belle caught her breath. He was wearing the new shirt—both of his arms were exposed, and on the right side, so were his scars.
She must have been staring, because he cleared his throat once again. When she looked up, his eyes were not on the road but on her.
“Danke for my new shirt, Belle,” he said in a soft voice. “It was right gut of you to think of me.”
The color rose to her cheeks, and she felt warm inside. “You are most welcome, Adam.”
“And I hope to wear it next Monday at the horse auction. Gets awfully warm in there with all those men.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been.” She had heard about the horse auctions in Liberty Village, but she had never attended, for her father never had any money to bid on horses or buggies or farm equipment.
Adam returned his attention to the road. “Mayhaps you might accompany me, then.”
Clapping her hands together, she drew in her breath. “Really, Adam? Oh, how I would enjoy that!”
She thought she heard him chuckle at her reaction. “Then consider it a . . . date.”
A date, she thought. A real date with her husband. She shut her eyes and gave a prayer of thanks to God for having helped her somehow break through to Adam. If he was willing to take her on a date, certainly things could only get better.
Chapter Twenty-One
The large auction house was filled by men seated on the benches, most wearing tattered straw hats and a few with a young child seated next to them. A few women were gathered at the back of the room, talking among themselves, as they clearly had no interest in the actual auction. Belle, however, was fascinated.
The benches were tiered and surrounded an open sand arena where a young Amish man ran beside a horse. Two other Amish men stood on either side of the arena, staring into the crowd as another man, the auctioneer, spoke rapidly into a microphone. Belle could hardly understand what the man was saying, for he spoke so fast in a singsong manner that not one word seemed intelligible to her.
“What’s happening?” she whispered to Adam.
He motioned to two empty seats in the second row. “I’ll explain it when we sit down.”
She nodded and followed him, too aware that people were doing double takes as Adam passed before them.
The auction house was outside Liberty Village, and most of the faces were those of strangers. She recognized only one or two people, and even with those she could not place their names, for they were not from Echo Creek. How Adam could ignore the intrusive stares was beyond her. She felt her pulse quicken and her palms sweat, wishing fervently that she might have the strength to say something to them.
But she didn’t.
Once they were seated, Belle sat as close to Adam as possible, not wanting to have to talk to any of those other people. She even reached out to touch his arm as if silently signaling to any curious onlookers that she was, indeed, his wife. “So tell me now. Please.”
He glanced down at her, and she thought she saw him hiding a smile. “So curious.”
Unable to contain her excitement, she practically bounced in her seat as she clung to his arm. “I am! Explain everything to me!”
He almost laughed, and even though he did not, she liked the way his eyes lit up at her enthusiasm. “Now, Belle,” he started an
d just those two words sent a warm feeling throughout her body. “It’s very simple.” He pointed to the area where the horse was being paraded before the onlookers. “That horse is up for auction. See the number in white on its rump?”
She hadn’t noticed that before Adam pointed it out.
“And anyone in the audience who would like to bid on the horse raises the white card with the bidders’ assigned number.” He showed Belle the card that was tucked into the white document that listed all of the horses that were to be auctioned that day. “Most people have already walked through the back where the horses are kept so that they can see which horses suit their fancy and can ask questions prior to the horse being auctioned.”
Belle glanced toward the one end of the arena and saw two other horses with Amish handlers waiting for their turn. “Back there?” She pointed in that direction.
He nodded. “Ja, that’s right.”
“Well, how do the men know what they are bidding?”
Adam chuckled and gave a little shake of his head, clearly amused. “The auctioneer,” he said and pointed to the rapidly speaking man with the microphone, “is requesting bids in increments. He starts high, perhaps a hundred dollars, and then when his voice slows, he lowers the number to, say, fifty or twenty-five.”
She gasped and looked at the auctioneer. “People can actually understand him?”
Smiling, Adam covered her hand, which was still tucked near his elbow, with his. “Ah, Belle, you’re rather charming,” he said lightly. “Ja, people can understand him, and you will, too, if you listen hard enough. Those other two men monitor the crowds to see who raises their card.” He waited until one of the men pointed to a man in the audience. “See? That man just bid on the horse, so the monitor pointed to him.”
Everything happened so fast that Belle could hardly follow the card raising, the pointing, and the rambling of the auctioneer. She sat back, staring at everything and watching, enjoying the entire experience. One horse was “sold to 186” and was walked out of the arena as another horse was walked in.