Belle

by Sarah Price

  She bit her lower lip, chastising herself for having awoken him at all.

  Adam let his hand move from her braid to her arm. Gently, he pulled her so that she had no choice but to lie down beside him. He tucked her petite body against his and then covered her with the quilt. “This is how I want to wake up,” he breathed into her ear. “And not just today, but every day, Belle Hershberger.”

  She was glad he couldn’t see her face, for she was certain that her cheeks flushed pink.

  He kissed the back of her head and wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing her tight against his body. For what seemed to be a long time, they stayed like that, until he finally sighed and began to move. At that moment, Belle realized that it wasn’t long enough. If only she could stay in his arms forever.

  After slipping on his pants, he shuffled over to the chair where, the previous evening, he had discarded his shirt. She watched as he slid first one arm and then the other into the sleeves before he turned around and began buttoning it. Her eyes took in the strong muscles in his chest before he finished closing the shirt and tucked it into his pants.

  Adam must have noticed her watching him, and he stopped. “You’re staring at me.”

  “I am.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

  She smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

  He shut his eyes as he stood before her. “Those are words I never thought to hear,” he murmured. “Not with these scars.”

  Belle sat up, letting her legs slide over the edge of the bed. “Don’t you realize that beauty comes from the inside out? In fact . . .”

  She stood up and walked over to him. Placing one hand on his shoulder, she raised the other to touch his face. He did not wince as she let her fingers trace the raised skin alongside his cheek and over his eye.

  “. . . I don’t see scars, Adam. I see the man that I love who is God’s gift to me.”

  He tried to look away, but she refused to give him that freedom.

  “God made someone very special on the day that he made you.” She leaned forward, and after stepping onto her tippy toes, she planted soft kisses upon his skin, one after another, until every inch of his scars had been kissed.

  “Belle . . .”

  She lowered herself and stared up at him. “Ja?”

  “I love you.”

  She smiled and reached up to give him one more kiss, this one on his lips. “And I love you, Adam Hershberger. I love you so much that my heart hurts with joy.”

  He reached up his hand, placing it on the back of her neck and pulling her into him. Lowering his mouth to cover hers, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and stepped forward, pushing her backward until her calves hit the side of the bed. He tucked one finger into the loop of her robe belt and gave it a gentle tug.

  “But the cows . . .” she started to say.

  “. . . will wait.”

  * * *

  By the time she finally made breakfast, the sun had risen and was shining from behind the barn. She glanced out the window, hoping to see Adam finishing up his chores. When she finally heard Shep barking, she peered outside and, upon seeing Adam throwing a stick for the dog, smiled. There was a lightness to his step as he walked from the dairy barn to the house. He paused twice, his hands on his hips as he whistled for Shep to bring him the stick for another round of fetch. The dog was only too happy to comply.

  As usual, he announced his arrival by stomping his boots on the porch steps. Belle reached her hand to her hair and made certain that no stray strands hung from beneath her prayer kapp. Then she smoothed her hands over her apron and waited for her husband to enter.

  At first, he merely glanced at her. She wondered if he felt as awkward as she did. When he shuffled across the floor, avoiding her eyes, she knew the answer to that question.

  She busied herself at the stove, finishing the scrambled eggs and putting the sausage onto the platter in order to carry it over to the table. But Adam wasn’t sitting down. Instead, he had gone into the other room and returned with something in his hands.

  “Best sit and eat while it’s hot,” she said, curious about his strange behavior.

  He nodded and sat down, putting the package on the floor by his chair. She didn’t ask any questions, figuring that if he wanted her to know what was on his mind or in that bag, he would let her know.

  When she finally sat next to him and bowed her head to pray, she noticed that Adam followed her example, his eyes shut and his hands folded before him. She smiled to herself as she silently thanked the good Lord for all of his numerous blessings. Especially Adam.

  “What do you have in store today, Adam?” she asked in a soft, shy tone.

  He reached for the plate of toast at the same time she did, and he quickly pulled back. “Sorry, Belle.”

  “No, no, you first. Take your toast. I’m sure you’re hungry after working so hard this morning.”

  He glanced at her, a surprised expression on his face.

  “With the cows,” she added dryly and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to take his toast. When he did, she pushed the butter plate toward him so that he could easily access it. “You know, mayhaps you might rethink your position on the dairy barn being off-limits to me.”

  With the conversation having turned toward cows, Adam seemed to relax. “And why’s that?”

  She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. “I reckon you didn’t want me in the barn because you were sleeping there; didn’t want me to see that.”

  For the first time that morning, he looked directly at her. “Is that what you reckon?”

  Belle nodded as she took two pieces of toast and set them on her plate. “So since we’ve resolved that issue, there’s no reason for you to milk all those cows by yourself.”

  “Is that so?”

  She ignored the amused looked that was beginning to cross his face. “Oh, ja, it is. Two hands make light the work, isn’t that what they always say? Besides, I always enjoyed milking the cows at my daed’s farm. I miss it, to be truthful.”

  “I’d expect nothing less than that from you, Belle.”

  She reached for the butter dish. “Of course. And I would only give you the truth.” As she stuck her knife into the butter, she looked up at him and met his gaze. “You know that, don’t you, Adam? You know that I meant what I said.”

  “Which part?”

  “If you mean about one son or ten sons, I meant that.”

  “I see.”

  She gave him a coy look. “But if you mean about how I love you and cannot imagine living one day without you, I meant that, too.”

  She thought she saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

  After a few minutes of silence broken only by the ticking of the clock and the sound of breakfast being enjoyed, Adam finally cleared his throat and pushed back his plate.

  “I may not be as good with words as you are, Belle, but if I could, I’d tell you the same things.” He reached down and picked up the package from the floor. “However, this might be just as good as words at explaining things.” Casually, he handed it to her.

  “What is this?” She wiped her hands on her apron and took the package from him. It was a white plastic bag, folded over twice. Whatever was inside was soft and squishy. “You bought something for me?”

  “Just open it, Belle.”

  Obediently, she unwrapped the plastic so that she could slide out whatever was inside. White tissue paper was wrapped around it, and she quickly opened that.

  A bolt of yellow fabric lay nestled in the white paper. It was the same yellow fabric that she had admired at the Troyers’ store just the previous weekend. She caught her breath and looked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

  “How did you know I liked this?”

  Adam’s face shone, delighted with her surprise as well as her approval. “I saw you standing there, running your hand over that fabric. And then you saw the price tag, I reckon, and immediately put it back with the others. But I knew tha
t you would look especially pretty in that color, Belle. With your dark hair and dark eyes, you’d light up any room if you wore a dress made in that fabric. I want other people to feel that special light you have, just the way I feel it whenever you are around.”

  Belle clutched the yellow fabric to her chest, feeling a tightening in her throat. She blinked her eyes, refusing to cry, but one tear escaped, and she laughed as she wiped it away.

  “For a man who says he’s not good with words, you sure just fooled me, Adam Hershberger.” And then she got up from her seat and went over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind and kissing his cheek. “Danke, Adam. You are truly the best of men and the best of husbands.”

  He raised his hand up to pat her arm.

  “I don’t know why God led me to you, Adam,” she whispered into his ear. “But I’m sure thankful that he did. What a special gift you are, and I will spend every day of my life hoping to prove to you just how much I love you.”

  He tightened his hold on her arm and gently pulled her around the back of his chair and onto his lap. She reached up her hand and brushed his hair away from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

  “Now don’t go spoiling me with such fancy talk, Belle,” he murmured. “If I can just see you smile and hear you laugh, once each day, that’s enough to make me die a happy man.”

  She laid her palm against his cheek. “I think that is something I can happily give to you.”

  He leaned forward and gave her a sweet, soft kiss. And then she rested her head against his chest, her arms back around his neck. She sat there, listening to the gentle pounding of his heart and the steady ticking of the clock. Surely she understood God’s plan now. When she had thought she might lose faith, he had shown her that faith was sometimes the only thing worth seeking—and, once found, keeping.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On Sunday morning, when she walked downstairs, she was surprised to see Adam standing in the kitchen with a cup of hot coffee in his hand. It wasn’t just the fact that he had made coffee, but the fact that he was wearing his suit—the same one he had worn on their wedding day.

  “What’s this?” she asked as she set her shawl onto the back of a chair. “You’re looking mighty fancy there, Adam Hershberger.”

  “And so are you, Belle Hershberger. I was right about the yellow.” His eyes shone as he took in the sight of her wearing a new dress made from the cloth he’d given her. Eager to demonstrate her delight in his gift, she’d spent the previous afternoon feverishly cutting and stitching, her spirits as bright as the color of the fabric.

  “And your beard! Why! It’s rather becoming on you, Adam.” Purposefully, she neglected to add that his facial hair covered the scars on his cheek. In truth, she hadn’t noticed his facial scars for a while, but now they were almost completely hidden. His external beauty now matched what she had seen on the inside of her husband.

  Adam leaned against the counter and pursed his lips as he continued to study her. “Figured my beautiful fraa might want some company at worship this week.”

  “Oh, Adam!” Smiling, she hurried over to him, and, despite his feigned protests, she hugged him. With her arms around his neck, she clung to him while he tried to set down his cup of coffee so that it didn’t spill on their clothes.

  “Now, Belle,” he chastised lightly. “No need to get so excited.”

  “But I am, Adam!” She kept hold of him but pulled back enough so that she could look into his eyes. “Do you know how much this means to me? Why, I can hardly wait to sit there and look across the way at my husband! We’ll be singing the same hymns together and listening to the sermon.” She nestled her head under his chin, feeling the tickle of his beard. “And on our ride home, we can talk about what the preachers say. Why, this is destined to be the best Sunday ever.”

  He cleared his throat as if uncomfortable, but she felt him wrap one of his arms around her waist. “Did you forget that there’s a council meeting after fellowship today, too? After all, we can’t have communion this month if all is not right with the church district.”

  She sighed. She had forgotten that there would be a council meeting today. That meant almost seven hours at worship. The regular service and fellowship would be followed by a long meeting, led by the bishop. Everyone would have to confess to their sins, and any disagreements would need to be resolved. Only then could the members do the foot washing and communion service two weeks later.

  “It’ll be a long day, no doubt,” she said as she reluctantly extracted herself from Adam’s embrace. “But I’m so pleased that we will be together.”

  An hour later, they arrived at the Grimms’ farm, where worship was being held. The driveway was already filled with buggies, and several young boys ran over to greet them, eager to help them unhitch the horse. Belle noticed that two of the boys shied away, but she decided to ignore their reaction. She was certain that children would not be the only ones with wide eyes and opened mouths when they saw Adam enter the house with the other men.

  As they approached the house, Adam’s pace slowed.

  When she realized that he was no longer beside her, Belle turned to face him. “Oh,” she said as she stopped walking. “I reckon you best go join the men, then.”

  He took a deep breath, his eyes piercing hers. She couldn’t tell whether he was pleading with her to stay with him or trying to tell her that everything was all right. Fortunately, before either one of them could speak, the bishop walked over and placed his strong, large hand upon Adam’s shoulder.

  “Adam! Belle! What a wunderbarr gut surprise to have you both here!” He beamed at Belle as if she had just delivered a long-lost sheep back to the shepherd. He turned to Adam. “And for council!”

  Adam gave a single nod of his head. “Ja, I’ve decided that”—he hesitated and looked at Belle—“that I’ll be here for communion this year, Bishop.”

  The bishop’s eyes crinkled in delight. “Oh, that’s just wunderbarr,” he repeated, this time with a long, breathy sigh. “I knew this day would kum.” He returned his attention to Belle. “Danke, Belle.”

  Feeling self-conscious that she was the center of attention, for all of the men lingering near the barn were staring, Belle lowered her eyes and took a step backward in the direction of the house. “Nothing to thank me for, Bishop. Adam made up his own mind.”

  But she knew the bishop was still smiling at her.

  Eager to escape his attention and the other men’s scrutiny, she quickly changed the conversation. “Has anyone heard word from Sadie?” she asked.

  “Nee, Belle.” The bishop took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “All we can do is continue to pray for her safe return.”

  “Oh, dear.” Belle swallowed. “That we will certainly do.”

  “And more, if needed,” Adam offered solemnly.

  “Danke,” the bishop said. “Both of you.”

  With the break in the conversation, Belle excused herself and hurried into the house, where the other women were gathered for pre-worship conversation.

  No sooner did she enter and begin to pass through the circle of women, greeting each one with a handshake and kiss, than she felt a hand on her arm and the familiar voice of her sister, Susie, in her ear.

  “Did I hear that your husband is here for service?” Barely had Belle turned around than her other sister was at her side. “Where did you get that dress?” Verna asked, her words sounding envious rather than curious.

  Susie glanced down at Belle’s dress and caught her breath. “Why! Didn’t I see that fabric at Troyers’ store? It was almost twice the price of the next best fabric!” She looked at Belle in surprise. “How on earth did you . . . ?”

  Fortunately, Ella joined them, and she gave Belle a quick embrace, even though most Amish women did not greet others like that for fear of indicating a special bond between each other. “Oh, Belle! You did a right gut job on that dress! When your husband bought it, I told Adam that the color would suit you!�
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  “Adam?” Susie gasped. “He bought that fabric for you?”

  Belle did not need to explain, for Ella appeared more than happy to do it for her. “Oh, ja !” Ella ran her hands down her own white organza apron that covered her blue dress. “Why, he was just delighted as could be to buy her that fabric. Wanted to surprise her.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a kinder man, so devoted to his fraa.” Suddenly, Ella covered her mouth and turned toward Belle. “Oh, help. I do sound like a braggart, don’t I?” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I wonder,” Ella said, returning her attention to Susie, “is it a sin to brag if it’s about someone else’s good fortune?”

  Both Susie and Verna stood there, speechless and with their mouths hanging agape. Belle, too, was almost stunned into silence. She suspected that Ella had come to her rescue, knowing that Susie and Verna had a hundred and one questions, with not one of them out of genuine concern for Belle. While she appreciated Ella’s interception, Belle was still surprised that her friend had spoken up at all.

  “I shall have to ask the bishop about that,” Ella mused out loud, although from the sparkle in her eyes, Belle doubted Ella would do any such thing.

  “Well, I suppose if one doesn’t do it too often,” Belle replied in a slow, thoughtful voice.

  There was no more time for discussion, for the bishop and preachers entered the kitchen, making their way through the line of women, shaking their hands as a way of greeting them. As soon as the bishop and preachers were seated, the older and married women sat. Before slipping away to take her spot in the line, Belle gave Ella a look of gratitude. She knew that they would talk after the worship.

  After the women were seated, the elderly and married men walked into the room. Belle saw her father for the first time since her wedding. She felt a momentary surge of happiness, especially when she saw that he walked with a straight back and bright eyes. As he started to sit on the pine bench, he looked up and scanned the room until he caught sight of her. Despite the solemnness of worship, her father smiled and winked at her. Belle could hardly wait to speak to him after the service and to hear about how his wonderful new grill had begun selling—a wonderful change of fortune for Melvin Beiler.