Buch lesen: «Runaway Amish Bride»

Chapter One

Abigail Miller sat primly on the edge of a tall-backed chair and stared at Jakob Fisher, his long fingers clenched around the letters Abby had given him.

He paced the length of the spacious living room in his home, his blue chambray shirt stretched taut across his overly broad shoulders and muscular arms. Even his black suspenders looked tight against his solid back. He had just arrived from working in the fields, and his plain trousers and black boots had dust on them. His dark hair was slightly damp and curled against the nape of his neck, confirming that the April weather was unseasonably warm. His straw hat sat on a table where he’d carelessly tossed it twenty minutes earlier. His high forehead furrowed as he scowled at his mother.

“I can’t believe you told this woman I would marry her,” he muttered.

Naomi Fisher met her son’s gaze. She sat beside Bishop Yoder on the sofa, her hands in her lap. The friction in the room was palpable. Abby couldn’t help wishing she had never come to Colorado. Even the abuse she had suffered back home in Ohio at the hands of her father and elder brother was preferable to this humiliating scene.

“I didn’t make the offer, mein sohn. As you can see from his letters, your father did this, just before he died.” Naomi spoke in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice, her expression calm but resolute.

Jakob handed the letters back to Abby. Several pages escaped her grasp and drifted to the floor. She bent over to gather them up, then placed them neatly inside her purse. They were like a shameful reminder that she’d done something wrong, but she hadn’t. She’d merely agreed to what she thought was a marriage proposal.

“Did you know what Daed had done?” Jakob asked.

“Ne, I didn’t know anything about it. Not until today. I just thought Abby was coming to Colorado to visit us,” Naomi said.

The bishop cleared his voice. “Your vadder told me of his plans, although he led me to believe that you had agreed to the offer of marriage. I thought it was all arranged. I’m sorry that I didn’t speak with you about it before now.”

Jakob stopped dead and stared at the man. “Ne, I knew nothing. Why didn’t Daed tell me about it? I never would have agreed to such a scheme.”

Abby flinched at the irritation in his voice. She felt devious, as though she had plotted behind Jakob’s back. She shifted her weight, wishing she could disappear. Wishing she were anywhere but here. She had arrived by bus only two hours earlier. Naomi, Bishop Yoder and his wife, Sarah, had been at the station to meet her. After traveling for twenty-six hours, Abby was hungry, exhausted and relieved to see a friendly face. She’d climbed into the back of the bishop’s buggy and he had driven her here, to the Fishers’ farm just nine miles outside town. She thought she was coming here to marry Jakob, the only man she’d ever trusted. Now, she realized she’d made a huge mistake.

“I’m already married. Susan is my wife,” Jakob said, his voice sounding hoarse with emotion.

Abby jerked her head up at this information. Jakob had a wife? When had that happened? Obviously, Jakob hadn’t known about his father’s offer until this morning. Even among the Amish, an arranged marriage was considered old-fashioned. But Abby had suffered a lifetime of abuse at the hands of her father and elder brother, Simon. Desperate to escape, she had agreed to come to Colorado. Naomi had been childhood friends with her mother. Fourth cousins, to be exact. Abby had been a girl when they’d left Ohio, but she still remembered them.

Naomi lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with moisture. “Susan is gone, but your children still need a mamm. Perhaps that is why your vadder contacted Abby and told her to come here.”

“My children have you to mother them. They don’t need anyone else. And it wasn’t Daed’s place to find me a wife,” Jakob said.

Naomi nodded. “You are right, of course. But Reuben is so angry all the time. He’s becoming uncontrollable. Yesterday, his schoolteacher told me he put a frog in her desk drawer. It jumped out and nearly scared her to death. And he’s constantly teasing Ruby and making her cry.”

Abby listened intently. He had children, too! Reuben and Ruby. Those must be their names. And knowing that Reuben was picking on Ruby made Abby’s defenses go up like a kite flying high. She couldn’t help feeling instantly protective of the girl.

Jakob released a heavy sigh of frustration. “I will speak with him again.”

“That’s just it. He won’t listen. He needs a mamm. So does Ruby. They need a complete familye,” Naomi said.

Sitting next to the bishop wearing a black traveling bonnet, Sarah Yoder nodded her agreement.

A sick feeling settled in Abby’s stomach. She hadn’t known any of this information. That Jakob had been married before and had two children. That was more than she’d bargained for.

“I didn’t know.” She spoke in a quiet voice, needing to understand exactly what she was getting herself into. At his father’s urging, she had agreed to marry Jakob, not become an instant mother.

Jakob turned, his eyes widening, as if he’d forgotten she was here. “What didn’t you know?”

She swallowed, gathering her courage. “That you were married before and have kinder.”

“Ach, it’s true.” He looked away, his gestures filled with impatience.

A dark, heavy silence followed.

“Jakob is a widower. Susan died in childbirth sixteen months ago,” Naomi explained in a gentle tone.

Oh, dear. Jakob’s father had neglected to mention that in his letters. Abby couldn’t help wondering what the man had been playing at. Had he hoped to get her here and then convince her to become a stepmother to Jakob’s children? Why hadn’t he told her the truth before she traveled across the country? Since the man had died suddenly a few weeks earlier, she would never know. It had taken her all that time to convince her brother to let her come here, and now it seemed a wasted effort.

“How old are your kinder?” she asked.

Jakob raked a hand through his short hair, showing his annoyance. “Reuben is seven and Ruby is five.”

“I didn’t know anything about them,” she said.

Now what? She hadn’t expected this. No, not at all.

The Western United States seemed strange and isolated to Abby, but it offered a chance at freedom. To begin a new life of peace and happiness. At the age of twenty-four, she should have already wed. But frankly, her father and brother had soured her toward all men.

Except one.

A rush of memory filled Abby’s mind. She’d been twelve years old when Simon was beating her with a heavy stick...doing what he’d seen their father do so many times before. Up until then, Jakob had been friends with Simon. The two boys were both fifteen years old. Jakob had been working with his daed in a nearby field. When he’d seen what was happening, he’d marched through the tall wheat, jerked the stick out of Simon’s hand and broken it over his bended knee. Simon had been furious that Jakob would interfere, but he hadn’t dared challenge him. Jakob was bigger, stronger and fiercer. He’d shielded Abby, giving her time to flee.

When Jakob’s familye had migrated to Colorado a year later, Abby never forgot his kindness. And every time her father or brother beat her, she thought about Jakob and his compassion. It was the only reason she had agreed to marry him. But now, she had a dilemma. If she returned to Ohio, she’d be forced to live in Simon’s household, where she had no doubt the abuse would continue. And she couldn’t stand that. No, not ever again. But maybe there was another option.

“I understand a marriage will not work between us.” She spoke softly, her hands trembling.

Jakob tilted his head to the side. “What did you say?”

She forced herself to meet his dark, angry eyes and repeated herself. “There has obviously been a horrible misunderstanding. But now that I am here, is it possible that I might work for you? Surely you need help on the farm. I am eager not to return to Ohio. Please. Don’t send me back there. Let me stay and work here.”

She hated that she must resort to begging, but life was harsh for an Amish woman alone in the world. She didn’t want to return to the misery waiting for her in Ohio, but neither did she want to abandon her faith for a life among the Englisch. She could work to make her way, if only Jakob would agree.

“I see no reason why you must leave, especially when you just got here,” Bishop Yoder said. “Our district is anxious to bring new members into its fold, to increase our settlement. There are not enough women of our faith to marry our young men. You would be a great asset to our congregation.”

Abby understood the implication of his words. If Jakob wouldn’t marry her, then someone else would because they were in short supply of Amish women. But what they didn’t know was that Abby would never agree to marry any of them. The fact that Jakob’s father had misguided her only confirmed her belief that most men could not be trusted and they used women only to get what they wanted.

Naomi nodded eagerly. “Of course, you must stay. We can find room for you here. There’s always work to be done, and we really could use more help. The bishop’s wife runs a bakery in town, and we contribute baked goods on consignment. In fact, I have to make a delivery in town tomorrow morning.”

Sarah nodded eagerly. “Ja, that is true.”

“You could also assist me with keeping an eye on the kinder,” Naomi continued.

Abby didn’t mind looking after children, but she felt a little odd tending Jakob’s kids. It was preferable to returning to Ohio. Everyone seemed eager for her to remain here. Everyone except Jakob.

“I would like that very much,” Abby said.

In unison, they all turned to look at Jakob. Their eyes were filled with hope as they silently awaited his verdict. For the first time in Abby’s life, it felt good to be wanted for a change, even if it was just Naomi, the bishop and Sarah who wanted her.

Jakob blinked, regarding them all as if he were a cornered rabbit facing a pride of mountain lions. Panicked and desperate. Abby held her breath, silently praying he agreed to let her stay.

* * *

Jakob took a deep breath, then released it slowly. He tried to calm his racing heart and troubled mind. Right now, he didn’t know what to think. Confusion fogged his brain. Too much grief had struck his familye lately. First, his beloved wife, Susan, had died in childbirth. Then Daed had died of a heart attack a few weeks ago. But why had Daed written to Abby and said that Jakob had agreed to marry her? It didn’t make sense.

Between the farm and his furniture-making business, Jakob already had more responsibilities than he could handle effectively without a wife. Though he tried, he had little time to comfort his grieving children. Mamm and his elderly grandfather had filled in the gaps. They’d been a great deal of help, but they were also still in mourning. He was responsible for each of them. To cope with his loss, he had buried himself in his work. It was easier to pretend that Susan was still alive, waiting for him at home at the end of each day. That his father was available anytime he needed advice or help with his labors. That they were a whole and happy familye again.

But they weren’t.

He definitely could use assistance on the farm, but not a wife. Never that. He would not allow Bishop Yoder or Mamm to pressure him into marrying again. It hurt too much. But what should he do about Abigail Miller?

He reminded himself that he wasn’t the only one who had been duped by his daed. After reading his father’s letters to Abby, he realized she hadn’t known that he was a widower with two young children to raise. Right now, they were with Dawdi Zeke, their great-grandfather, and not here to witness this difficult conversation. Reuben was still so angry that his mudder and grandfather had died. He and Ruby couldn’t understand what had happened to their world.

Neither could Jakob. It seemed that Gott had abandoned them, and he didn’t know why.

“I suppose we could make room for you here in the house, at least until you decide what you’d like to do. I can stay with Dawdi Zeke, so that there is no appearance of impropriety,” he said.

There. That was good. His offer provided an immediate solution to Abby’s needs without making any long-term commitments. And by staying with Dawdi, it would remove Jakob from the house so that no one could accuse him of indecency with a woman who wasn’t his wife. Of course, he’d still be taking his meals here in the house, but with Naomi and Dawdi’s presence, no member of his congregation could accuse him of being inappropriate.

“Dawdi Zeke?” Abby asked.

“My grandfather.”

She nodded. “Danke. I am grateful to accept your offer.”

She released a quiet sigh and looked away, her startling blue eyes filled with relief. He couldn’t blame her. He remembered her familye well and could guess her reason for not wanting to return to them. Mamm had told him that her father had died a few years earlier, which left her to the questionable mercy of Simon. Jakob had no doubt the boy had grown up to be a cruel man just like his father, and he hated the thought of sending Abby back to him.

A clatter sounded outside the open window. Jakob stepped over to peer out and saw Reuben racing across the lawn toward the barn. A bucket was overturned in the flower bed, as though it had been used as a step stool. The boy’s footprints were embedded in the damp soil, and he had tromped on Naomi’s petunias.

Hmm. No doubt the little scamp had been listening in on their conversation. Jakob had no idea how much the boy had overheard, but he would have to deal with that later.

“Wundervoll. I am so glad we have come to an agreement. Abby will remain here, then.” Bishop Yoder slapped his hands against his thighs and stood to signal his departure. Sarah rose also, smiling wide.

Naomi hopped up and escorted them out onto the front porch. “I appreciate your being here today.”

“Any time. Let me know how things go...” The bishop’s voice faded as the screen door clapped closed behind him.

Jakob turned and faced Abby. She’d been a young girl when he saw her last. Young, quiet and afraid. Now, she was an attractive, fully grown woman with magnetic blue eyes; smooth, pale skin; and golden-blond hair. Her light blue dress and matching cape looked perfectly starched, though her skirts were slightly wrinkled from her travels. She still looked quiet, still afraid. The complete opposite of his outspoken wife. Susan had been olive-skinned with dark hair, freckles, hazel eyes and an overly long nose. She wasn’t what most people would call beautiful, but she’d been kind and energetic, and Jakob had loved her dearly.

Correction. He still loved her. He always would. And he had no room in his heart to love another woman. Not ever again.

Now, Abby sat with her battered suitcase resting beside her on the hardwood floor. Her shoulders sagged with weariness. Still wearing her black travel bonnet, she appeared tuckered out and in need of some time by herself. She reached up and slid an errant strand of flaxen hair back into her kapp, looking lost and all alone in the world.

A twinge of compassion pinched his heart.

“Koom. I will show you to your room.” Without waiting for her, Jakob scooped up her bag and headed toward the back stairs. She followed. He could hear the delicate tapping of her sensible black shoes behind him.

Upstairs, he pushed the door wide to offer Abby admittance. She stepped inside and looked around the tidy room. It included a simple double bed, a nightstand on each side with tall gas lamps, a chest of drawers, a wooden chair and an armoire. The oak furnishings were beautiful but plain. Jakob had crafted the wood himself as a wedding gift for his new bride. They complemented the lovely blue Dresden Plate quilt that covered the bed. The design included small gold hearts at the corner of each quilt block. A matching braided rag rug covered the bare wood floor. Susan had made the quilt, rug and plain curtains hanging across the window. She’d claimed that the hearts on the quilt were a whimsical reminder of their love. And though pride was not something Jakob should allow himself, he couldn’t help feeling just a bit of Hochmut for her skill in making them.

Abby turned, her gaze riveted to the far corner of the room where a rocking cradle sat awaiting a little occupant. She made a small sound of sympathy in the back of her throat, her eyes filled with sadness. He’d made the cradle for his new child. As he looked at the empty mattress, a wave of lonely helplessness crashed over him. All his hopes and dreams seemed to have died with Susan and their unborn child. He should have removed it by now but hadn’t been able to let go of the past. Packing the cradle off to the barn would seem like burying his wife and child all over again. So he’d left it here, a constant reminder of all he’d lost.

He looked away, trying to squelch the pain. Setting Abby’s suitcase on the floor with a dull thud, he walked to the armoire and reached inside. It took only a moment to gather up his clothes. He didn’t have much, just what he needed.

Abby watched him quietly, her delicate forehead crinkled in a frown. Her gaze lifted to a hook on the wall where his black felt hat rested. He scooped it up, feeling out of place in his own home. Having this woman see the room he had shared with his wife seemed much too personal.

Abby looked at him, her eyes creased with compassion, and he felt as though she could see deep inside his tattered heart.

“This is your room,” she said.

It was a statement, not a question.

“Ja, but it is yours to use now. I will join Dawdi in the dawdy haus. He turned ninety-three last month and is quite frail, but he still lives alone now that his wife is gone.”

The dawdy haus was a tiny building next to the main house with a bedroom, bathroom, small living area and kitchenette. It included a front porch with two rocking chairs, although Dawdi Zeke didn’t do much idle sitting even though he was so old. The cottage was the Amish version of an old folks’ home, except that they cared for their elderly grandparents instead of turning them over to strangers. Jakob had no doubt the man would be happy to let him live with him for the time being.

“I’m sorry to chase you out of your room,” Abby said.

He shrugged. “It’s no problem, although Dawdi Zeke does snore a bit.”

He showed a half smile, but she just stared at him, totally missing his attempt at humor.

“We will eat supper soon. Come down when you are ready.” With one last glance around the room, he closed the door.

Alone for a moment, he stood on the landing, his thoughts full of turmoil. He didn’t want Abby here, but the situation wasn’t her fault. She’d come to Colorado in good faith. No doubt she was hoping for a better life than what she’d had with her own familye. He knew how he would feel if Reuben were beating little Ruby with a stick, and he made a mental note to speak with his son right after supper. He’d feel like a failure if one of his children grew up to be cruel and abusive. He couldn’t marry Abby, but neither could he turn his back on her in her time of need. If nothing else, he could shelter her. The Lord would expect no less.

Turning, he descended the creaking stairs and entered the wide kitchen. Mamm stood in front of the gas stove, stirring a pot of bubbling soup. Strands of gray hair had escaped her kapp and hung around her flushed cheeks. She looked tired, but he knew she’d never complain. It wasn’t their way.

The fragrant aroma of freshly baked biscuits wafted through the air. Mamm paused, looking at his armful of clothes. Her gaze lifted to his face, as if assessing his mood.

“Jakob, I’m so sorry. Your vadder never should have interfered...”

He held up a hand. She hadn’t been privy to his father’s plans and it wasn’t her fault, but he didn’t want to discuss it any further. “Abby is welcome in our home until she wishes to leave, but I am not marrying her or any woman. Not ever. Now, I’m going to get Dawdi and the children so we can eat. I heard Abby’s stomach rumbling and believe she is hungry. We should feed her before I complete the evening chores.”

With that final word on the subject, he stepped out onto the back porch and walked past the yellow daffodils Susan had planted the first year they’d been married. He saw her presence everywhere on the farm. In the garden where she’d grown huge beefsteak tomatoes in spite of the short growing season, and in his children’s eyes. They both looked so much like their mother that he could never forget. Nor did he want to.

No, he definitely would never marry again. It was that simple.