by Laura Hilton
Isaac shifted his gaze to Joshua for a moment, then looked back at the bishop. Joshua’s stomach threatened to revolt. He knew. He had to. But who among those drinking at the pond could have known his secret? Jacob and Matthew were the only other two who knew, and neither of them drank. They’d both joined the church. He opened his mouth to confess but quickly pressed it shut again. Maybe it’d be better to wait until he’d heard the bishop out.
“They were talking about Annie.”
What? Joshua turned his attention to his frau of just one day. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her hand, even if the one closest to him had the sprained wrist. It felt icy cold, despite the thick gauze wrapped around it.
“Annie?” Isaac sounded numb. “Why would they be talking about my Annie?”
The bishop exhaled. “Apparently, they felt ‘that transplant’ was trying to woo her away from someone who had a prior understanding with her. They were talking about some Englischers helping to kidnap her on her way home from school and forcing her…well, shall we say, dishonoring her.”
That transplant. Joshua knew immediately who was involved. And so did Isaac, judging by the way his face turned a frightening shade of red.
Annie’s face paled. “Nein. Nein.”
Joshua tightened his grip on her hand. She winced, and so he released it, sliding his hand down to her fingers.
Bishop Sol looked at Annie. “That is why I had to get you away from the school. I had to get you married. I had to protect you, as fast and as best I could.” He turned his eyes on Joshua. “I’m sorry. I puzzled and prayed over it all day Sunday, knowing I had to fire her to protect her, at least in part, and not quite sure how to shore up that protection. I’d planned to discuss it with Isaac on Monday, but….” He bowed his head briefly. “When I walked in and saw you two kissing, I saw the beginning of a relationship. I knew Annie would not kiss anyone unless her heart was committed. And it was then that I knew what I had to do.”
“Jah, you did the right thing,” Isaac said. “With Joshua and me both protecting her….” He leaned forward and reached for Annie’s shoulder. His voice had broken with emotion and probably some suppressed rage.
“She mustn’t go anywhere alone,” the bishop insisted. “I’m not convinced those buwe won’t still try something. Some of the young men were at the wedding, and I could tell they were angry.”
Joshua had seen it, too. He winced at the memory of Luke’s menacing gesture.
But then, he said a prayer of thanks. Because it looked as if he’d have a way out of his predicament, possibly without having to reveal that leaving Seymour had been his plan all along. “My parents are on their way to visit. Annie and I will go back to Pennsylvania with them.”
Chapter 26
Annie dropped her jaw and turned to stare at Joshua. “What?” She kept herself from adding, “We’ll do nein such thing.” A comment so lacking in submissiveness would be a big mistake. Especially in front of the bishop, though she’d forgiven him for firing her and for forcing her to wed.
She loved Joshua. Was glad to be his frau. But she would not leave Seymour. Period.
“Might be a gut idea.” Daed’s voice quaked with his words. He didn’t want her to leave.
She didn’t want to go.
“That might be best,” the bishop agreed. “An extended honeymoon, of sorts.”
“But I’m needed here.” Annie spoke quietly, calmly, not wanting to reveal her indignation at Joshua’s idea. “Mamm is still recovering from her buggy accident. She’s getting better, but progress is slow.” She looked at Daed for support, agreement, something. But he merely studied her with a concerned expression. “Cathy has a broken arm, so she can’t do much,” she went on. “And Aaron is planning on marrying. Besides, Daed needs Joshua here. We can’t go.”
“Lots of history in Pennsylvania.” The bishop tossed the comment out there, just like Daed trying to tempt the wild bees with a bowl of sugar water. Of course, Daed had given up trying to capture the bees for his hive and had ended up ordering a starter set, instead.
And, if she could frustrate the plan by balking, they would eventually give up on this ridiculous idea.
“We can’t go.” To emphasize her position, she rose to her feet, walked over to the counter, snatched up her book, and left the room. The rain was falling more heavily now, so she retreated upstairs rather than back to the woods.
She wanted to slam the door to add further emphasis to her statement, but that would disturb Mamm and Cathy, and then Daed would have plenty to say about her show of temper.
As if walking out on the bishop weren’t enough to get her into trouble.
Daed would definitely have something to say to her about her attitude.
Or maybe he’d leave that up to Joshua, since she was married now.
Let’s see them try to get me on a bus to Pennsylvania. She would not leave her home, her family, and her friends. Besides, the Bible said that a man was to leave his mother and father and cleave unto his frau. It didn’t say for the woman to leave and cleave.
***
As Joshua watched Annie bolt from the room, he was tempted to run after her and offer comfort. He rose from his seat, intent on doing just that, but the bishop’s voice stopped him. “Of course, you’d be expected to return to Seymour.”
Joshua hesitated in the doorway and turned around. “What?” Don’t give yourself away. He glanced at Isaac, relieved to see no signs of suspicion. Then, he looked back at the bishop, awaiting an explanation.
“Once Annie’s out of the way, I expect the bu will leave for gut. Either that or he’ll find another girl to court and marry, and then he’ll confess and join the church, ain’t so? And, at that point, it would be safe for you to kum back.”
Joshua could have sworn that Bishop Sol was smirking. He felt a wave of nausea rise in his throat. At least the bishop had waited until Annie had left the room to spill this part. Joshua went back to his chair and sat down again. How did he figure it out?
Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Joshua’s guilt-ridden conscience was reading into his expression and the conversation meanings that weren’t there.
***
Annie flung a pillow across Joshua’s room—their room—and then went to retrieve it, ashamed of her show of anger. Forgive me, Lord. Still, she never wanted to leave home. It seemed unfair that they’d force her to, just because of some comments made by a few drunks. Okay, so one of them happened to be Luke, but what could he do now? She was married. No longer available. And wasn’t kidnapping a crime?
Luke wouldn’t do anything to her, now that she was married. The men downstairs were just overreacting.
Had to be.
Because she wouldn’t leave. No way, no how.
Hadn’t her dream been to marry Joshua and have him help with Daed’s businesses? Like Jacob and Becky’s story, only rewritten with different names. And Joshua would build her dream haus next door to Mamm and Daed’s, or he’d construct a smaller dawdi-haus for her parents to inhabit, while Joshua and she took over this one. Especially when the babies started coming.
Aaron would probably get the haus, however. And the land. Which meant that Joshua would have to buy new property.
Still, she would not be ripped away from her family. Especially not now. Daed would never force her to go. Joshua would see things her way soon enough. He’d have to agree to stay. Hadn’t he been prepared to do that when he’d signed up for the swap?
As for Bishop Sol…he might be the trickiest to convince, but one never knew exactly where he stood.
She peered out the window. The rain still came down in sheets. The bishop would be in no hurry to leave in the middle of a downpour. And Bertha King wouldn’t be expecting him home anytime soon, either.
Annie had to convince him to abandon this foolish idea. She stood up, straightened her shoulders, opened the door, and started to march downstairs.
“Do you have anything you want to say, Joshua?” Something in
Bishop Sol’s voice froze her in her path on the staircase.
There was a long silence. Annie peeked around the corner and saw Daed, still tugging at his beard, staring at Joshua. He was going to pull his hair out by the roots if he kept that up.
Joshua stood by the table. He raked his fingers through his hair. “Uh, nein. Your reasoning sounds right.”
What reasoning?
“You know, I asked for references on the buwe who signed up for the swap,” the bishop said gently. “I know a lot of things—probably more than you think.”
It fell quiet. The silence lasted one second, two, three.
“I know things about you, Joshua.” The bishop’s voice was intimidating.
What?
The silence stretched on again. Wasn’t Joshua going to respond? What could the bishop possibly know that Joshua didn’t want him to?
“Jah, I’m sure you do.” Joshua sounded troubled.
Annie was beginning to feel guilty about eavesdropping. Whatever secrets Joshua was keeping couldn’t be that bad. But then, they could be. They didn’t know each other well enough to share their innermost thoughts. That kind of intimacy took time, and they’d been married for only a day.
“Do you want me to say it, or will you?”
She heard Joshua exhale. “Fine. I have nein intention to settle here.”
She caught her breath. Did he have to sound so firm? Couldn’t there be a measure of doubt in there? A willingness to compromise?
“What?” Daed sounded strangled.
Kind of the way she felt.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, while her heart landed somewhere around her toes.
“I planned to stay only until it was time to harvest the maple syrup back home.”
“I thought you said you wanted to marry Annie,” Daed choked out. “All this time, your plan was to marry her and take her away?”
Annie shoved her fist to her mouth, hoping no one had heard her pain-filled whimper. Then, she turned and fled back upstairs, to the safety of the bedroom. She wanted to go to her old room, but she didn’t have that option anymore. It had been cleaned and prepared for Joshua’s parents. She ran into the room she shared with him, closed the door, and shoved a solid wooden chair against the knob, since it didn’t have a lock. She wasn’t sure that would work, but it was her only hope of keeping Joshua out.
She’d told him she loved him. She’d given herself to him.
And he’d said he loved her.
Had it all been a lie?
Chapter 27
And Joshua had thought he’d get off without the truth coming out. At least Annie hadn’t heard. It was bad enough that the bishop had known and had pretty much forced him to confess to Isaac.
“Be sure your sin will find you out.” Numbers 32:23. He should have known better. Should have been truthful from the start.
His throat seemed to close, cutting off his air supply. He avoided Isaac, whose betrayed expression pained him, and focused instead on Bishop Sol. “Why did you approve me for the swap, then?”
“Because.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I prayed over it, and I felt the Lord impressing on me that you needed to kum. I guess I selfishly hoped you’d decide to stay.”
“Annie won’t take this well.” Isaac rubbed his eyes. “She’s my baby. The last one. The one I delivered.”
Joshua nodded. Their unusual bond was undeniable. “I’m sorry.” He really was. “I never meant to hurt you. And I did want to marry her. ”
Isaac looked away. “Jah. I forgive you. You’re like a son. And I always knew someone would kum and take my baby away. I just didn’t expect it’d be so far.”
“Danki for forgiving me.” Relief flooded through Joshua. The last thing he’d wanted was to ruin his friendship with his father-in-law.
Isaac nodded.
Joshua didn’t look forward to telling Annie. He didn’t want to injure their fledgling relationship. Yet he didn’t want her finding out from anyone but him.
And until everyone came to terms with this unpleasant reality, there would be a wedge between Joshua and Bishop Sol, Isaac, and Annie. Not to mention the rest of her family, when they found out. And her friends. And the community.
He raked his fingers through his hair. Why hadn’t he weighed the inevitable consequences of his deception long ago?
It was because he’d arrived in Missouri a single man with no attachments, and he’d expected to leave Missouri that way.
Then, he saw Annie. And the more he saw her, the more he liked her. Wanted her. Loved her.
He sighed. Maybe, if he could warn his parents, they’d keep quiet, and she could go back to Pennsylvania under the impression that they’d return to Seymour before long. Would that be a lie, too? The sin of omission?
Joshua knew the answer. He also knew that taking Annie to Pennsylvania under false pretenses would only cause additional problems later.
He sighed. “I need to find Annie.”
It was past time he started telling the truth.
***
Annie lay curled on the bed, hugging a pillow. Joshua was a player. She’d known it all along. But she’d foolishly decided to believe she was different. And she’d married him.
The Amish marry for good. She wouldn’t have the option of divorce.
She gulped. Joshua could go back to Pennsylvania, if he wanted to. But she would never leave.
So, the bishop wanted to protect her from Luke. She’d still have Daed. She’d have the name of a man. Joshua’s Annie. Her heart skipped a beat. It’d been so nice to be his Annie. She tried to squelch her traitorous emotions.
She’d have the shame of being unable to keep said man.
But no one would know the whole story, as long as no boppli resulted from their too-brief union….
She heard a floorboard creak outside her door, and she tensed, praying the chair she’d propped against the door would do its job.
Someone tapped. “Annie?” It was Joshua. She held her breath. “We need to talk.”
Maybe, if she didn’t answer, he’d go away.
“I know you’re in there. May I kum in, please?”
How did he know she was there? She could be anywhere. She could have crawled out the window, climbed down, and gone to the barn to hide. She glanced at the window again. Still pouring down rain. Okay, that scenario was unlikely.
But she could still make a run for it. After all, the rain fit her mood.
“I’m coming in.”
The doorknob rattled. She sat up and eyed her makeshift barricade of a chair, praying it would work.
It didn’t. Joshua opened the door with ease, while the chair merely slid across the wood floor. He peeked at the piece of furniture, then looked up at her. “A chair? Ach, Annie.”
Why did he have to sound so genuinely caring? He was good.
She wiped at her eyes.
“We need to talk.”
***
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Annie straightened and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Afraid she might try to make a run for it, he shut the door, slid the chair in front of it, and sat down. She’d have to go through him to get out. “There are. I have things I need to tell you.”
Her chest rose and fell with her sigh. “I’m not going to Pennsylvania.” She speared him with a glare. “And you are a player. You lied about loving me. You lied about wanting to settle in Missouri.”
He cringed. She’d overheard. She must have come downstairs in the midst of their conversation and overheard the wrong part. And the anger, distrust, fear, and pain he heard in her voice about killed him.
She looked at the pillow she’d been holding, then flung it at him, hard. He caught it easily and kept it in his lap, his fingers curling around the edges. “Annie, it isn’t what you think.”
“It most certainly is! Don’t you feel wunderbaar to know you won?”
He winced at her heavy sarcasm. Won? He’d won nothing. If anything, he’d
lost—lost her love, her trust, and maybe their marriage. His friendship with Isaac had been wounded. The list could go on. Indefinitely. “Annie, please. Let me explain.”
“You are never touching me again. Ever. And when your parents kum, I’ll sleep with Cathy, because there is nein way I’m sharing a room with you.”
He reacted as if he’d been slapped. Time to rein in this conversation.