Their Convenient Amish Marriage

by Cheryl Williford

  He turned away from her. “I did love you, you know.”

  She didn’t believe a word of it. “You picked a strange way of showing it, leaving the way you did.” Her words were barely audible.

  Their eyes met and held for a long moment. “I had my reasons for leaving.” He dropped his chin.

  “I’m sure you did, but did you stop to think your father might need you? Your mamm, his fraa of many years, had just passed. All he had left were you and Solomon.” Did you consider I might have needed you, too?

  He thrust the key in the ignition and the truck roared back to life. “I’m not going to pretend that what I did was right. At the time, I didn’t think about anyone but myself and the pain of losing my mamm. I was selfish. I know that now. I don’t need to be reminded.” He impatiently swiped rain off his forehead. His eyes closed for a moment. “Look. I admit I wanted to join the Englisch world. See what it was like before I settled down. I lived one day at a time, until I looked around and years had passed. After a while I thought I’d been gone too long to return and be welcomed.”

  Her words were whispered, barely heard over the roar of the motor and pounding rain. “What finally brought you back?”

  “Naomi.” He took off down the rutted road with a spray of gravel.

  Bouncing along beside him, Verity wished he’d said you, but he hadn’t. She noticed how white his knuckles were on the steering wheel. The young mann who’d left her standing, waiting for him all those years ago, never would have admitted he’d made a mistake, even a small one. He’d been too proud. He would have bluffed his way through, made excuses. Maybe he’d changed, but had he changed enough?

  And maybe he’s working you, like he used to work his mamm.

  * * *

  The truck had barely come to a stop when Verity jumped out and hurried out into the rain while holding up her skirt. She rushed in through the back door without a glance back.

  Leviticus parked under a mossy oak tree and slammed the truck door behind him. He hadn’t made a mistake coming home. He wanted his dochder to know his family, the grove, the Amish way of life. Time had brought about change, but he still resented how hard his mother had seemed to work. Certain-sure his foolishness and too little rest had killed her. The responsibility for her being overworked, he laid at his daed’s feet.

  The heavy rain bans on the edge of the retreating hurricane had left the ground soaked under his boots. He sloshed his way to the front yard, his mind whirling. Women liked choices, not mandates, even if they were Amish, like Verity, and raised to be subject to men’s authority. He didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she didn’t want to marry him any more than he wanted to marry her, but he had a feeling she’d be fine being Naomi’s mom...if he wasn’t part of the deal. He could tell by the way Verity handled the child, especially when she thought no one was watching, that she loved Naomi. He’d seen the tiny kisses she’d placed on the child’s cheeks. Somehow, he had to convince Otto to rethink his plan of them marrying. He wasn’t ready for two kinner, and he sure wasn’t fit to be a husband.

  He trod through the rain, trying his best to ignore the lightning and endure the sudden bursts of thunder so reminiscent of the IEDs blowing up around him during the war. Sudden noises set off memories of bomb attacks in the dark Afghan nights. One thing the army doctors had taught him was to face his issues head-on, not delay the inevitable. It was time he and Verity talked, got everything out in the open about his tour overseas. About Julie.

  He shut the old farmhouse door quietly behind him. The great room was empty, but he could hear Faith’s excited squeals coming from the kitchen and Naomi’s urgent cry for milk. He hadn’t taken time to feed her or share a smile with the rosy-cheeked child all day. Guilt ate at him, reminding him why he questioned his ability to be a good father. Did he have what it took to bring up Naomi as Amish?

  The kitchen door burst open, its hinges protesting as they announced Faith coming into the room. She wore a tiny dress of pale yellow, her shiny hair pulled back in a flyaway bun the size of a donut. She wore no prayer kapp; rather, it was clutched in her small hand. Her eyes were bright with excitement. She scurried over, her smile infectious. “Hello.”

  He found himself smiling back. “How are you, little one?”

  She sidled up to him, almost touching. “My mamm said I’m not to bother you.” Faith clutched her faceless doll under her arm. Mischievousness danced in her blue eyes. She plopped down on the floor, in front of the couch set back against the large picture window and cozied her doll among several square pillows. A square throw quilt, probably knitted by Verity, was draped casually across the doll’s legs.

  Apart from Naomi, he had little experience with children like Faith. He didn’t know what to say, or what not to, but did his best to show she could trust him. “Did you have fun with Clara today?” He sat on the couch and saw the protective glance Faith gave her doll next to his leg. She didn’t trust him fully, but he prayed she would in time.

  Faith took her doll out from under the blanket and bounced it along the edge of the worn couch arm. “We made cupcakes. I ate two, but don’t tell Mamm. She says I eat too much sugar.”

  In a surprise move, she opened her mouth wide and flashed tiny square molars. “Do you see any cavities? If I get one, Mamm says I have to visit the Englischer dentist again.” She batted her ginger lashes at him. “Does it hurt to have a filling? Mamm said it could. Have you had a tooth filled?”

  Leviticus wasn’t sure which question to answer first. He wasn’t about to admit he’d often canceled dental appointments until extreme pain had him reaching for the phone. He had to set a good example for Faith and Naomi now. “I’ve seen the dentist lots of times. Brushing your teeth really good after eating sugar is the key.”

  “Your shirt is wet.” She changed the subject. “Did it hurt?”

  “What?” he asked, bemused. Like Verity, Faith had a way of delighting him, but kept him off-kilter with her rapid-fire way of talking.

  Faith snickered. “The fillings? Did they hurt?” Her expectant gaze held his.

  Hurt? Yes, it hurt. But a lot of things hurt in life.

  He pulled his thoughts away from his problems, brought them back to the present, to Faith and the room they were in. Would his lack of concentration ever go away?

  “Did it?” Faith asked again, her hands on her hips, waiting.

  “Yes, sometimes it hurt, but just a bit. You look like a brave girl to me.”

  Faith looked guilty as Verity came into the room and took her by the hand, her forehead furrowed. “I told you not to bother Leviticus. He has a lot on his mind. Let’s go see if we can help Clara fix a meal.”

  “You look brave to me,” Faith called over her shoulder to Leviticus. Her skinny legs skipped alongside her mother, who flashed him a puzzled glance.

  Leviticus watched as they disappeared down the hall. His chin dropped to his chest. Brave. Ha! If the little girl only knew what a coward he’d been in the war. He rose and moved toward his room, only to pause as his cell phone went off. “Hello.”

  The voice on the phone was formal and hurried. “Mr. Hilty. This is Janet Gaynor, your father’s nurse. I’m afraid he’s taken a turn for the worse. It’s time you and the family get up here.”

  His vocal cords froze. He finally got out, “Ya, we’ll be right there.” His whole body went numb, his hand trembling so hard he almost dropped the cell phone.

  “Oh, yes. Your brother said to bring Verity with you.”

  His brow creased in a deep V. He cleared his voice. “You sure he didn’t say to bring Clara, his wife?”

  “No. He didn’t mention anyone named Clara. I distinctly remember him saying the name Verity.”

  “Okay.” His heart pounded, almost deafening him. “We’ll be right there.” He ended the call and looked around the room, confusion clouding his mind. Why would Solomon want Veri
ty to come? She was close to his father, but not family, not like Clara was.

  He shoved his cell phone back in his pocket and tried to walk, but his legs failed to cooperate. He called out to Verity from where he stood, his voice strained. Was his father dying? On a shelf, the light overhead sent a spark of reflection flickering off his mother’s favorite jug. He drew in a deep breath, remembering how strong she’d been as she lay dying and drew strength from her memory. He made another attempt to move and found himself able to hurry down the hall toward the kitchen. Time was wasting.

  As he opened the kitchen door, Faith scurried past, her laughter filled with mischief, Verity following close behind the giggling child. Naomi took tiny steps while holding on to Verity’s hands. As Naomi passed on tiptoe, she glanced up at her daed, her expression decidedly anxious, like being up on her feet made her feel unsure.

  “I need to talk to you,” he told Verity, his joy at seeing Naomi’s first tentative steps pushed back by overwhelming fear of what they’d find at the hospital.

  Something in his tone must have gotten Verity’s attention. She slowed and then stopped to lift Naomi to her hip. Her gaze searched his face. “What’s wrong?” She moved back toward him, her smile slipping.

  “It’s Daed. The nurse—” His voice broke, but he struggled on. “She said to come now.”

  She nodded. “Go. Quick. Don’t worry about Naomi. I will take gut care of her.” Wiping a tear from her cheek, Verity turned to follow Faith.

  “No. Wait. You don’t understand. You need to come. Clara will have to care for the kinner.”

  “But why? Clara should be going with you. Solomon will want her there with him.” Verity repositioned Naomi on her hip, her hands holding on to the squirming kind.

  “I have no idea why Solomon said to bring you, but he did. The nurse said to come now. There was no time for questions. You’re needed.”

  “But—”

  “Look, if you don’t want to come, just say so.”

  She shook her head. Her face had gone pale. “Nee, it’s not that. I just don’t understand.”

  He finally noticed the tick of nerves in her jaw, saw fear in her eyes and became gentle. “We’ll figure it out later, Verity, but for right now, let’s get the kids situated and hit the road.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Verity’s stomach roiled as she stared at the elevator. Until recently, she hadn’t ridden in many and had hoped to keep it that way. They did unpleasant things to her stomach. Today would be no exception.

  She stepped in, followed by Leviticus. He pushed a button and the doors swooshed closed behind them, her fate sealed. She reached back, blindly searching for the handrail to steady her footing.

  A bell dinged somewhere on the silver panel. The door slid open with another whoosh, exposing polished cream-colored tiled floors and a brightly lit corridor. A man dressed in a janitorial uniform stepped on and nodded their way. His work shirt declared his name was Ralph.

  Verity watched as he positioned his rake-thin body against the side of the elevator. Perhaps he didn’t like riding in it any more than she did.

  They rode up two floors together in total silence. With a will of its own, the shiny metal door swished open. At a distance, Verity noticed a crescent-shaped nurses’ station. A cluster of nurses dressed in cheerful scrubs mingled close by. One hospital caregiver looked up and gazed at them. Verity had grown accustomed to Englisch curiosity.

  Completely out of character, and something he hadn’t done since their courting days, Leviticus grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the elevator. Surprised, she stumbled forward and would have lost her footing if he hadn’t pulled her close. “Are you all right?”

  “Ya.” Her face warmed. The man named Ralph slipped past and disappeared down a long hallway to their right.

  Leviticus nodded, and together they moved forward, walking in unison.

  If she remembered correctly, Albert’s room was located two floors below. So why did we get off on the fourth floor?

  Tethered to him by the warm grasp of his fingers, she hurried alongside him. “Wait!”

  He paused abruptly, causing her to bump into his arm. He gazed down at her, one pale brow arched in curiosity. “You’ve changed your mind about seeing my daed?”

  She had forgotten how tall he was, and handsome. She shook her head, ignoring the thrill tickling her stomach. This foolishness must stop. “Nee, of course I didn’t change my mind.” She glanced back at the elevator, toward the nurses. “Didn’t we get off on the wrong floor?” She pulled her hand away from his and instantly regretted the loss of his touch.

  After running his hand across his grizzled chin, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “They moved Daed to this room early this morning. After fresh tests were run and his doctor examined him.”

  “Oh.” She noticed how quiet the halls were, how silently the nurses interacted with each other. “Is this an ICU ward?”

  “No. Not exactly. It’s the hospice unit.”

  “Hospice?” Verity’s chin wobbled. She was all too familiar with the medical term. Her grossmudder had lived out her last days hooked up to a morphine drip in a ward just like this one. The possibility of Albert’s demise became very real to her in that moment. “I’m very sorry your father’s worse.”

  “Ya.” His shoulders rounded, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He looked exhausted. “I should have come back to Pinecraft sooner.”

  “Some will say you came home too late, but at least you did come home.” She wished she could say any number of things that would make him feel less guilty. But the fact remained that he had taken off, left his father to worry about the fate of the family grove. And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Leviticus had enjoyed his time in the Englischer world.

  “Like anything I do can make a difference now.” He cupped her elbow as he directed her down the short corridor to a room at the end of the hall.

  “You have to know you coming home made a big difference to Albert.”

  He shrugged, his glace quick. “I guess it did.” He rubbed his hand down his arm. “Don’t be too alarmed when you see him.” His expression became grim. “Daed might look pretty bad.” His steps slowed and stopped in front of a door. “His heart’s tired. Maybe giving out. We have to prepare ourselves for what might happen.”

  His words entered her brain, but their meaning didn’t register. Time slipped away. Young Leviticus stood before her, vulnerable and grief stricken. She allowed herself to linger in the past, remembering the good times, when all that mattered was the color of the dress she wore to church and if Leviticus would approve of how she looked in it.

  “Unless something changes, he could die tonight.” His chin dropped, but then he looked up, his tear-filled eyes holding her gaze. “It’s important we act strong.” He wiped his big palm across his cheek, removing a trail of tears. “I don’t know if I can pull it off.” He laughed ruefully. “I’ve never been much of an actor.” Immense pain showed clearly on his face.

  Her heart raced. She read the signs of grief, saw the bags under his eyes. He was hurting badly.

  Verity blinked back tears of sympathy. Her chest ached. These were the most honest words she’d heard him utter since he’d been a young man and walked out of her life. She mustered up every ounce of courage she possessed, her head nodding in unspoken encouragement. “Ya, you can pull it off, Leviticus. You have to.”

  She struggled inwardly for the right words, and suddenly they came. “We draw strength from the Lord. Gott promises to see us through hard times like these.” She forgot about her anger bubbling just under the surface since he’d come home, about her anger at him for leaving and breaking her heart. Her resentment didn’t seem so important now. Albert might be dying.

  With a mind of their own, the tips of her fingers brushed across his cheek, the stubble growing on his chin scraping aga
inst their pads. Old emotions tried to flare back to life in a fire that would consume her heart forever if she let it.

  She pulled her fingers away and forced a half grin. “Let’s go see your daed. He’s waiting.”

  * * *

  Leviticus thought he’d prepared himself for his father’s appearance, but he hadn’t and evidently neither had Verity. He heard her shocked gasp. His daed’s body seemed to have shriveled overnight, his coloring so pale it looked translucent against the hospital bed’s white sheets. His heart breaking, he listened to the sounds his father made as he gasped for air through dry, cracked lips. Someone had pushed his father’s long gray hair off his forehead, exposing the old man’s rawboned features. How had he lost so much weight so quickly?

  He clutched Verity’s arm, as much to support himself as to steady her. She was seeing what he saw, and yet she stood strong and unwavering. But he knew her bravado was just an act. Somehow, she always thought she had to be the strong one, to set a standard far too high for her to maintain for long. He acknowledged his brother standing at the foot of the bed, and then Otto seated next to him with a nod. “Sit here.” He led Verity to the chair just vacated by Otto at the side of his father’s bed.

  Dressed smartly in pressed dark trousers, black suspenders and a white shirt good enough to be his Sunday best, Otto had aged during the years Leviticus had been away. But the short, stout man appeared sturdy and unyielding as he moved closer to Albert’s side.

  As best he could remember, Otto’s finest official bishop’s garb was reserved for special occasions, like weddings and social events of the highest caliber. If his father had awakened, he would have no doubt been honored by the man’s display of respect and loyalty. Almost the same age, the men had been friends since bus. He knew Otto loved Albert, yet their competitive checker games at the park had often been loud and amusing. Still in shock over his father’s declined health, Leviticus stumbled down to the foot of the bed.