by Sarah Price
For the next half hour, Belle was transfixed, watching the activity. She almost forgot that, besides her and Adam, other people were there. By the time the seventh horse had been auctioned, Adam shifted his weight and leaned over. “Reckon I could use some water. Would you like something to drink?”
She nodded, and when he stood up, she followed him.
They made their way to the refreshment stand at the back of the building. A few people stared at Adam, but Belle was beginning to find it easier to simply ignore the curious onlookers. However, as they stood in line, waiting for their turn, one man stopped beside Adam.
“Hershberger, right?”
Adam moved his head so that the brim of his hat shielded his face. “Ja?”
“John Eck. ’Member me?” The man reached out his hand for Adam to shake. Belle noticed that Adam eyed the man suspiciously, clearly not remembering who he was, but eventually accepting the handshake. “So how’s that horse and buggy you bought the other week?”
Adam stiffened and withdrew his hand as Belle looked at him questioningly.
“That was you, ja?” John said, obviously recognizing Adam’s face. “That bay Standardbred? And the new buggy? That was a great deal. Why, you practically stole those from me!” But the man laughed good-naturedly. “Hope that horse is serving you well.”
Seeing that Adam looked discomfited, Belle spoke up. “Ja, indeed. The horse is wunderbarr.” She smiled at the man. “My husband purchased them for my daed, who recently lost both his horse and buggy.” Her statement was a guess—a stab in the dark, since she’d never seen the new horse and buggy—but someone had to say something. And Adam clearly was not in the mood.
John raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say? Ach, I’m sure he was most appreciative.”
With the smile still on her face, Belle nodded. “For sure and certain.”
After the man parted from their company, Belle did not look at Adam. Instead, she stood by his side and stared straight ahead. What was the meaning of this? she wondered. Why would Adam take such a pointed interest in bestowing gifts upon her father when he had only just begun to show any type of husbandly interest in her? And why had the bishop agreed to such a thing? It was unlike him to bestow such a gift on her father, claiming it was from the community when, in fact, it was from Adam.
Her thoughts seemed to run in different directions. The community. Yes, she should have known right away when her sister informed her that the bishop had taken a collection from the community. The people in Echo Creek were not that philanthropic. These were the same people who laughed at her father’s inventions. Even the shopkeepers in town wouldn’t help him promote his new grill. So why had she so easily believed that they would pool enough money to purchase something as grand as a new (and beautiful!) horse and buggy for him?
It wasn’t until they sat back down in a new section of the arena that Adam spoke.
“I hadn’t wanted anyone to know.”
“Obviously,” Belle replied. She toyed with the water bottle in her hands. “However, what is not obvious is why.” She turned her face and looked at him, her eyes searching his. It took her a minute to realize that, as she looked at him, she saw none of his scars. Instead, she saw only the beauty of his heart shining through every ounce of his being. For the first time, she realized that Adam was a beautiful man, more handsome than any other she had ever met. “Why would you hide something like that?”
“It’s complicated . . .”
Belle shook her head. “Nee, it’s not complicated. It’s humble, and I find that very attractive, Adam.” She graced him with a soft, compassionate smile. “Still, why you would let the entire community think that they contributed?”
He sighed and stared straight ahead as though he were watching the current horse being auctioned. “The bishop. He did take up a collection. Only . . .” He paused and pressed his lips together. She thought she saw tension in his jawline. “No one contributed.”
Belle gasped. “No one?”
“Not one person.” He said each word in a short, clipped manner.
Immediately, Belle felt a wave of dismay at the magnitude of what Adam was saying. How could a community be so heartless? And then she thought back to that day at the store when Linda and her two daughters had peered out the front door of the Troyers’ store, trying to catch a glimpse of Adam driving by. She remembered their heartless words and lack of compassion for the man she now called her husband. Another memory came to mind: Gabriel trying to convince her that she did not need to fulfill her promise to marry Adam. And, of course, the horrified response of the people in her church district when Adam and Belle’s wedding banns had been announced. Belle realized that the real question was not how the community could be so heartless, but how she could have not seen the truth of who they were.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Adam?”
She peered around the corner of the barn, hesitant to step inside. She knew he preferred to work alone in both the dairy barn and the fields. But she hadn’t seen him all day and was worried.
Ever since their trip to the auction on Monday, he seemed more pensive and reclusive. If she had hoped that their day at the auction might help their relationship, her hopes were soon dashed. Now it was three days later, and he hadn’t been coming inside for either breakfast or dinner. Again. It was five o’clock and supper was ready, but it was clear he had no intention of joining her. Again.
“Adam? Are you in here?” Despite not wanting to seem as if she was pestering him, she stepped inside and searched for him.
She was surprised at how clean the barn was. The cows were out in the pasture, and the aisle in between the milking stalls bordered on spotless. She had never seen any Amish dairy barn kept so tidy. She walked through the main section and headed toward the back rooms. But those, too, were empty. A ladder that led to the hayloft caught her attention, and she quickly climbed it, poking her head through the hole in the floor.
There were bales of hay stacked against the far wall. He must have stacked all of them by himself, and she couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been, carrying the excess bales up the ladder and then stacking them. But he had done so, and in a way that was clearly very organized and perfectly aligned. Even the floor had been swept clean, so that hardly any stray hay was scattered about.
She got to her feet and looked around, taking in the scene. It was amazingly orderly for a hayloft. Adam must spend hours up here, she thought, while making her way across the wide wooden boards of the floor. When she got to the other side she was surprised to see a very small opening that seemed to lead to a crawl space. From the outside of the building, she would never have noticed it.
It was dark in the loft, but there was just enough light filtering through a small window to see that Adam was not there. However, when she stooped down and peeked inside the tiny room, what she saw caught her off guard.
There was a mattress on the floorboards with a woolen blanket folded neatly atop it. Above it were two pegs from which hung a pair of trousers and a shirt. It all made sense now. At night, while Belle slept alone in the house, Adam slept here. But what she didn’t know was how long he’d been sleeping up there. Could it be that he’d been living in the hayloft before she’d moved to the farm?
Curious, she stooped and entered the little room, then swept her eyes around, looking for a light. When she spotted a small, battery-operated lantern near the mattress, she picked it up and flicked on the switch. She tried to stand up, but the ceiling was too low, so she hunched herself over and hobbled to the far corner. That’s when she saw a second opening. Crawling through it, she was surprised to find that it was a larger space than the other and had a full-height ceiling. She straightened herself up and stretched, then looked around. A makeshift kitchen was in one corner, a small table and chair—everything one would need to be comfortable.
“Belle?”
Adam’s voice startled her. She turned around, dropping the lantern, which hit the
wooden floor with a thud. Thankfully, it was electric, not kerosene. “Oh!” She knelt down to pick it up at the same time as Adam, and they bumped heads. Adam reached out to steady her, then pulled her back to her feet. His arm was wrapped around her waist, and for a second, Belle stared up at him and wondered—no, wished!—that he might kiss her.
“What are you doing up here?” His voice, so deep and gruff, had a raspy tone that surprised her even more than finding herself in his embrace.
“I . . . I was worried.”
“About?”
She let her hand fall against his chest, surprised at how bold she felt. “About you.”
Stiffening, he made a noise as if scoffing at her.
“Do you find that odd?” she asked, her finger tracing the buttons on his shirt. “I hardly see you, not even for meals. I was worried something had happened to you.” She glanced at the makeshift kitchen. “Am I such a bad cook that you prefer to prepare your own meals?”
“That’s not it . . .”
“Then why?”
He didn’t answer her.
But Belle was determined to get some answers. She needed to understand what was holding him back when it had been he, not Belle, who wanted this marriage. “Why are you avoiding me?”
He started to step backward, but she held on to his shirt.
“Adam,” she said. “You told me you didn’t want a housekeeper—you wanted a wife. Yet you have turned me into a housekeeper. Have you changed your mind?”
He reached up, covering her hand with his, allowing his thumb to caress the back of her fingers. They hadn’t been this close to each other before. She could feel his heart rapidly beating through the fabric of his work shirt and realized he was as nervous as she was. “Nee, Belle. I have not changed my mind,” he managed to say, his voice raspy and thick with emotion. From the pained look on his face, she could sense that he wanted to open up to her. What’s holding him back? she wondered.
“Then what is it? Why are you sleeping in the hayloft? Why are you eating alone?”
He squeezed her hand and pulled her closer. In the darkness of the room, she could sense him leaning down, his face close to hers. His warm breath caressed her cheek, and she sighed. Lifting her head, she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her. But the kiss never came.
Instead, he gently pushed her away.
“You shouldn’t have come up here, Belle.” He turned his back to her. “I told you not to come into the dairy.”
“But why?” She took a step toward him, reaching her hand out to touch his shoulder. “Why are you rejecting me? Do I have to remind you this was your idea? This marriage?” She felt his muscles twitch under her touch. “If you haven’t changed your mind, why are you pushing me away?”
Before the words had finished leaving her lips, he turned around and grabbed her, pulling her against him. She could barely catch her breath, and before she realized what was happening, he pinned her against the wall, one hand holding her arms over her head. His breath was warm against her neck.
“Is this what you want?” he said, his lips just inches from hers. “To drive me insane?”
“Insane?” His choice of words frightened her. “Nee, but I—”
“I stay away from you, Belle,” he groaned into her neck, “because I have to. I can’t begin to hope that you might one day have feelings for me.”
She shut her eyes. “Adam . . .”
“I never imagined that I might find a woman. A woman like you.”
She relaxed when she felt him loosen his hold. She let her arms find their way to his shoulders, then wrapped them around his neck. “Like me?”
“A woman who would look past my face and see my heart . . .”
She leaned her head to the side and sighed. “If only you would show me more of your heart . . .” Clinging to him, she pressed her cheek against his and felt him turn his head, just slightly. “I catch glimpses, Adam, and I see that your heart is very large. You’re a special man.”
He relaxed a little as she spoke. She felt him lightly trail his lips along her neckline, letting them linger near her cheek. Shivering in anticipation, Belle held her breath as she waited for her first kiss.
“A good man,” she whispered.
For a moment, he stiffened, and then he pulled back, covering her hands with his and gently removing them from around his neck. He clutched them and held them against his chest. She stared up at him, longing for him to break down that final brick in the wall that he used to isolate himself from the outside world. From her.
“Nee, Belle,” he said, backing away from her. He reached for the lamp and started walking toward the door. “Not like this.” He shut off the light and set it down on the floor inside the door. “Kum, Belle. If you’ve supper ready, I’ll join you this evening, then.”
He stood by the door, waiting for her to follow him. But she hesitated, confused about what had just happened, though, for once, she asked no questions. Instead, she left his makeshift bedroom and kitchen, following him to the ladder. He reached for her hand and, when their fingers touched, Belle felt an electrical charge soar through every nerve in her body. And yet she still felt disappointment that once again he’d shut her out of his world.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“I don’t expect you to.” He released her hand and stood back, waiting for her to climb down the ladder before following her.
At the bottom, he stood beside her, then reached out and brushed a stray strand of her hair away from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. When she looked at him, she realized that she wasn’t seeing the scars on the right side of his face. Instead, she saw a man who felt as conflicted as she did, a man who wanted to love but was afraid. Afraid to open his heart for fear of being hurt.
Belle reached for his hand. She lifted it to her lips and gently kissed it.
He withdrew his hand from her grasp, placing a finger under her chin and tilting her head. She had no choice but to look at him. And then, slowly, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Not yet,” he whispered again. “Not here.” He let his hand fall, then sought hers, and they walked hand in hand out of the dairy barn and toward the farmhouse.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once again, Belle awoke to overcast skies. Thankfully, however, it was not raining yet. She rubbed her arms, trying to warm them, as she left the comfort and heat of her bed and got dressed. The upstairs was cold, and she wondered how she would possibly keep from catching a chill during the winter months ahead. There were no fireplaces on the second floor of Adam’s house.
Our house, she corrected. Although, after having seen where Adam preferred to live, she realized that the house was basically hers alone. The thought saddened her, especially as she remembered her anticipation that he might actually kiss her. When he hadn’t and had pulled away from her, she had felt such an overwhelming sense of disappointment. And yet he had held her hand as they had walked back to the house.
Despite the cold, Belle stood in the middle of the bedroom, her arms wrapped around herself. She could not deny that her feelings for Adam had changed. For over a month now, she had been his wife. She’d learned about his moods and habits, as a wife should. She knew what he liked for breakfast, how he liked his coffee, and how he liked to be left alone. Oh, how she’d learned that lesson!
She walked to the window, peering outside. The trees were starting to drop leaves, and the yard was in dire need of a raking. Perhaps tomorrow, she thought. She already had plans to clean the upstairs bedrooms, even though no one used them.
Downstairs, she hurried to make some breakfast. With the oven cooking fresh bread, the kitchen soon filled with the warm, yeasty scent that spoke of home. She had just finished making scrambled eggs when Adam walked in. She looked up and greeted him with a smile.
“It’s getting cooler out, ja?”
He nodded but didn’t speak as he crossed the room to wash his hands. She kept out of his way, but st
ood ready with a fresh dish towel. As he wiped the water from his hands, he gave her a quick glance. “Don’t suspect it will get much warmer today.” Setting the towel onto the counter, he walked over to the table and sat down.
“I should like the key to unlock that bedroom upstairs.” She dished his breakfast plate and poured him a cup of coffee, both of which she carried over to the table. “I plan on cleaning the upstairs today.”
He mumbled something.
“Excuse me?”
“No need to focus on those rooms.” He reached for his coffee and sipped at it. “Leave them be.”
Belle frowned. It was easy enough for a man not to care about the cleanliness of the house, but Belle simply could not leave any room unfinished. “And it’s very cold upstairs. Do you have a propane heater, perchance?”
He grumbled something else, and Belle sighed.
“Mayhaps you enjoy freezing to death all winter, but I don’t relish the thought!”
He gave her a stern look but kept silent.
Taking her cue from him, Belle focused on eating her breakfast, wondering why he was in such a terrible mood. The hay was cut, the corn shocked, and the farm almost ready for winter. With a clean house and full belly, he had very little to complain about.
“Sunday is council,” she said at last. “Will you be attending?”
He raised his head and looked at her, his expression blank.
Belle sighed. She should have figured that he wouldn’t attend. Such a strange relationship, Belle thought, between the bishop and Adam. How could he possibly never attend council or communion and still be a member in good standing? Why, any other baptized member of the church would have quite a stern warning over never attending church! In fact, anyone else besides Adam would be shunned.
“Then I’ll be going alone, I reckon.”
Abruptly, Adam shoved away his plate and stood up. “Got chores to do,” he mumbled and stalked out of the house.