The Promised Amish Bride

by Marta Perry

  “I’ll help with the harness,” Becky said, and was off like a shot.

  Managing a smile, Sally followed. Becky wasn’t tall enough to put the harness on, but she’d find something for the child to do.

  Star seemed eager to be going home, and he stood quietly while they hitched him to the buggy. Sally led him around the school to the front with Becky patting him and whispering to him the whole time, fingering the harness.

  “Here we are.” She stopped by the porch to find Aaron closing his toolbox. “All ready to go.”

  Sally focused on the buggy rather than Aaron, her hand tightening on the line as she swung herself up. In an instant Star reared, jostling the buggy. Her hand slipped and she was falling, seeing the ground rush up to meet her.

  She landed hard on her right shoulder, still clutching the books she’d held. The fall jarred her so that for a moment she couldn’t think. Then Becky cried out, and Aaron rushed to her, kneeling and putting his arms around her.

  “Sally!” It was nearly a cry. “Are you all right? Don’t try to move.”

  She tried to speak, but she couldn’t. She could only look at Aaron’s face so close to hers and the love in his eyes turned her bones to jelly.

  * * *

  Struggling to control his feelings, Aaron held Sally gently, relieved to see that her gaze, fixed on him, seemed normal. “Easy, don’t try to move too fast. Where does it hurt?”

  She blinked several times, breaking eye contact, and seemed to be assessing how she felt. She moved a little, wincing slightly.

  “My shoulder is sore, but I don’t think anything is broken.”

  His pulse slowed, steadying, and he helped her sit up, relinquishing his hold on her reluctantly. “Take it slow and easy. I’ll help you get up.”

  Sally nodded. Biting her lip and leaning on his arm, she got to her feet. When he let go she swayed, and he put a steadying hand on her elbow.

  “Let’s get you over to the step where you can sit down. Then I’ll deal with the horse.” He glared at Star, and the animal shook himself and kicked again.

  They moved slowly to the steps, and he had to forcibly resist the urge to pick Sally up in his arms and carry her. He didn’t have the right to do so. He didn’t have any rights where Sally was concerned, and he had to remember it.

  Sally relaxed with a sigh when she was seated on the steps. “I’m all right.” Her gaze went past him to Becky, who was still weeping. “Becky, will you pick up my books and papers, please? That would be a big help.”

  Sniffling and nodding, Becky stooped and began collecting them. Seeing her safely away from the horse and buggy, Aaron approached Star.

  “Settle down now,” he murmured. “It’s just me. You remember me, yah?”

  Star tossed his head fretfully, but stopped kicking.

  Still murmuring soothing words, Aaron began stroking the lathered neck. Star had worked himself into a nervous state—that was certain. But why?

  “There now. What’s wrong with you today? Nothing here to be scared of.”

  He glanced at Sally. She’d be losing faith in his ability with horses the way things were going. She sat on the step, leaning a little to one side, and she had her arm around Becky, soothing the child in much the same manner as he tried to soothe the horse.

  What on earth had caused Star to lose his head that way? He couldn’t see anything around that might have frightened the animal. Besides, with his blinders on, he could only see what was in front of him.

  He moved his hand toward Star’s shoulder, and a shiver went over the horse’s skin like a warning.

  “Hush, now, don’t be foolish.”

  He looked back at Sally again, seeing Becky staring at her with such devotion and love that it shone from her face. His heart seemed to turn over.

  “You’ll be wishing I’d never touched this animal to begin with,” he said, trying to distract his thoughts from what he wanted to say.

  “Teacher Sally doesn’t think that,” Becky said, rushing the words, her hands clasped tightly. “She couldn’t.”

  “That’s right.” Sally patted her. “It’s all right.”

  Aaron frowned. What was going on with Becky? Surely the sight of her teacher falling shouldn’t upset her this much, at least now that she knew Sally was all right.

  His hand moved along the shoulder, brushing against the strap of the harness. Star exploded again, rearing and kicking, his head tossing. Aaron caught the headstall, holding it firmly, trying not to think about those horseshoes connecting with his body.

  “Stoppe. Are you ferhoodled? What’s wrong with you?” Aaron fought to keep a controlled tone, not wanting to make matters worse.

  Under his hands, Star settled, but he shivered all over and his ears flicked nervously.

  “It’s my fault!” The words came in a wail from Becky, and he spun around to stare at her.

  “What are you talking about?” he demanded, but Becky only cried louder.

  Sally sent him a reproving glance. “Hush, now, Becky. Don’t be afraid. Just tell us what you think you did.”

  Becky sniffled, shivering just as Star had. Then the words spilled out. “Under the harness.” She pointed a shaking finger. “There. I did it. I put a thorn from the rosebush under the strap.”

  Aaron’s gaze met Sally’s. He moved slowly, resting his palm on Star’s shoulder near the harness. Star shuddered. He inched his hand along, slipping his fingers under the harness. And had to mind his tongue when he felt the sharp prick of a thorn.

  Still moving deliberately, he eased the irritant out, alert for any sign of trouble from Star. But the horse seemed to know that Aaron was helping him, standing perfectly still as the thorny twig came clear. Aaron smoothed his hand along under the harness to make sure he’d gotten it all.

  Star visibly relaxed. Whickering softly, he turned his head toward Aaron. Aaron patted him, murmuring soothing words while his mind spun. Caleb should be the one to cope with his daughter’s behavior, but it looked as if this landed on him.

  But Sally was already coping. She cupped Becky’s face in her hands. “Komm, now, Becky. You must tell us why. You’re not a child to be mean to an animal.”

  “No, no.” Distraught, Becky shook her head vehemently. “I didn’t know it would hurt Star so much. I just thought it would make him misbehave a little.”

  Sally looked toward Aaron, as if asking if he wanted to take over. But he didn’t. Sally was obviously more capable than he was in this situation. He shook his head slightly.

  “You wanted Star to misbehave? Why?”

  Becky had been answering readily, but now she seemed to get stuck. Her cheeks grew red, and her lips pressed together. Then she put her hands over her face, hiding it.

  Sally pulled the hands away, her touch gentle. “You have to answer, Becky. Why did you do it?”

  Becky glanced from side to side, as if looking for a way out. Then she stared at her hands, clasping them tight in her lap.

  “We... Timothy and me...we wanted to have...to have Teacher Sally for our aunt.” She rushed the last few words, eager to get them out. “But Onkel Aaron hasn’t even been to see you all week. He said it was because he’d finished training Star. So I thought that if Star needed more training, you would get back together again.”

  She felt silent, still staring at her hands. Aaron moved to her side, not knowing what to say, and certainly not wanting to look at Sally. Finally he sighed and sat down next to Becky on the step.

  Heaven only knew what Sally was thinking now. And he was going to have to make Becky see...

  But again Sally, with that quick perception of hers, anticipated him. “Becky, you know that what you did was wrong, don’t you?”

  Becky nodded, shuddering. “I hurt Star. That was wrong.”

  He thought for a moment she’d say that she hadn’t meant t
o hurt the horse, but she didn’t. This little niece of his was taking responsibility for herself.

  “You must understand that grown-up people have to decide things like marriage for themselves.” Sally paused, and he realized how difficult this must be for her. It wasn’t fair of him to let her carry the burden.

  “That’s right.” He put his arm around Becky. “Getting married to someone isn’t something you decide all in a hurry or because you spent some time together. You can’t make that happen for other people.”

  Was it his imagination, or did Sally wince at that? He rushed on, not sure he wanted to know.

  “Now I think it’s time we went home.” He glanced at Sally. “It might be best if I drive Star. All right?”

  She nodded and bent to gather up her school materials, not looking at him. He ought to say something to make this better, but he couldn’t, because there wasn’t anything.

  * * *

  Sally put her materials in the buggy and then lifted Becky up, urging her over into the middle of the seat. She’d put a child in the center in any event for safety’s sake, but right now she needed Becky as a buffer between her and Aaron.

  She climbed up and settled herself, preparing to endure the trip home in Aaron’s company. Just when she thought the hurt couldn’t get any worse, it did.

  The humiliating thing was the reflection that she’d been obvious enough about her feelings that the children saw it. Shame washed over her. That should never have happened. It violated everything she believed about the relationship between teacher and scholars.

  Aaron had to share the responsibility, too, and he probably realized that. Regardless, she had to be responsible for her own behavior. She certainly couldn’t control his.

  They rode along in silence, each occupied by his or her own thoughts. Finally she shook herself loose of her preoccupation with her feelings and glanced across the buggy seat.

  Aaron was stone-faced, giving nothing away. He looked like the man he’d been that first time she saw him as an adult—the day he came home.

  It hurt too much, and she switched her gaze to Becky. Poor Becky. Sympathy swept over her. The child sat with her head hanging, her hands clasped together in her lap. She had to do something about Becky.

  Putting an arm around Becky, she snuggled her close. Becky looked up, startled, and then relaxed against her, the tight look vanishing from her face.

  “Look how nicely Star is going along now. I think that means he forgives us, don’t you?”

  Becky shot a glance toward her uncle. “Maybe. I hope so.”

  Sally wanted to poke him in the ribs, but she didn’t dare. She stared at him so intensely that she thought he couldn’t help but feel it.

  Whether he did or not, Aaron roused himself. “Yah, I’m sure of it. He’s a gut boy. He won’t hold it against anybody. An extra carrot tonight, and he’ll forgive anything, ain’t so?”

  She nodded, giving Becky a squeeze. “He’s greedy, all right. I’ll make sure he knows the extra carrot is from you.”

  At last Becky smiled. Without moving away from Sally, she reached across to take Aaron’s hand, and they traveled along toward home, linked across the seat.

  Sally’s heart ached with the realization of how much Becky was going to miss her uncle when he left. Aaron obviously cared about her and Timothy, too. Didn’t he see how much he meant to his family? Since he’d been back, he’d fitted right into the family, secure in his proper place.

  Or was that wishful thinking on her part?

  They rounded the bend in the lane that brought the two farms into view, and Becky bounced on the seat.

  “Look. There’s a car in front of our house. Who can it be?”

  They looked where she was pointing. It meant nothing to Sally, but Aaron’s whole body seemed to freeze. “I know.” His voice had changed. “It’s someone for me.” He glanced at Sally and then quickly away. “It’s the man I used to work for.”

  It was as if a giant hand had clutched her heart. Not now. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready.

  But she’d never be ready for Aaron to go away again.

  “I thought I might get a letter. I never expected him to come here.” Apprehension was plain in his voice.

  “He wouldn’t have come if he were still angry with you.” The impulse to reassure him was stronger even than her regret. “You know that.”

  Aaron looked back at the car, his eyes seeming to narrow on the man who was even now stepping out of it. His expression eased into a half smile. “Yah.”

  “Well, I guess you’d best go and find out.” It took all she had to keep her voice from choking. “I’ll let you and Becky out at the lane. Star will be fine going home.”

  “He will, for sure.” Aaron spoke absently, all his attention on the man who waited for him.

  He pulled up at the lane, getting down quickly and helping Becky down. Without even a goodbye, he strode off toward the house.

  Sally turned the buggy into her lane, clucking to Star. Thank the good Lord she hadn’t lost control where he could see her. Now she could let the tears flow. His employer would want him back, and in a moment he’d be gone. It was over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aaron walked toward Albert Winfield, his mind racing. Was this a good sign? The man didn’t look angry, but did his presence mean he was ready to believe in Aaron? At least he wasn’t wearing the furious, judgmental expression that had been stamped on his face during their final interview in his office. That was encouraging.

  Becky, seeming excited about the presence of an Englisch visitor, ran ahead. Then she came to a stop, spun and raced back to Aaron. Her brief spurt of courage had vanished as her shyness took over.

  Aaron took her hand, as much for his own comfort as hers. Was she picking up on his apprehension? He hoped not. Hand in hand, they walked up to Mr. Winfield. Becky studied her shoes, and Aaron met the man’s eyes firmly, not willing to be the first to extend his hand.

  “Aaron. I’m glad to see you.” Winfield tore his gaze from Aaron and bent to smile at Becky clinging to Aaron’s hand. “Who’s this? Will you introduce me?”

  “This is my niece, Becky. Becky, this is Mr. Winfield. I used to work for him.”

  Winfield had been staring because he’d never seen Aaron in Amish clothing before, he supposed. The black pants, solid blue shirt, suspenders and straw hat were pretty much a uniform here, but would seem strange to Winfield.

  Becky emerged from her study of her feet to give Winfield a fleeting smile.

  Aaron patted her head. “Run on in to your mammi,” he said, using Pennsylvania Dutch.

  Nodding, Becky scurried toward the back door, but before she could reach it, it opened. “Aaron, was ist...” Jessie let the words trail off, looking at the stranger.

  Aaron filled her in quickly in Pennsylvania Dutch, and then switched to English. “Mr. Winfield, this is Jessie King, my brother Caleb’s wife.”

  Winfield removed his ball cap, polite as always. “Nice to know you, Mrs. King.”

  “You are wilkom, Mr. Winfield.” Her eyes were wary, and relief swept over her face when Caleb and Onkel Zeb came around the corner of the house, probably because they’d seen the strange car.

  Aaron performed the introductions again, suppressing the urge to laugh. If Winfield was dismayed by the appearance of so many Amish, to say nothing of their cautious response to him, he hid it.

  What was Caleb thinking? Did he suspect that his brother was about to leave them again? But Caleb’s steady gaze held only support.

  An awkward silence fell, and he didn’t know how to break it. Finally Onkel Zeb spoke.

  “You will want to talk to Aaron, ain’t so? If you’ll come inside, you can be comfortable. We’ll leave you two alone.”

  “Well, thanks, but I don’t want to put you folks out. I could stand to stretch my legs a
fter that long drive. Aaron, how about taking a walk around with me?”

  A sensible solution that he should have thought of himself. It would get them away from an audience. “Sure. Let’s go up toward the orchard.” He gestured toward the fruit trees on the slope beyond the barn.

  Winfield gave the family a polite nod, and Aaron led the way across the yard and through the field. They walked in silence for a few minutes, the grassy pathway muffling their footsteps.

  When they reached the orchard, Mr. Winfield paused, smiling a little as he studied the still-laden apple trees. Aaron reached up and plucked a ripe cooking apple, inhaling the sweet scent of it.

  A flash of memory went through him, triggered by the smell...a small version of himself climbing into the tree to toss down apples to his mother, standing below. She caught them in her apron, looking up at him with a carefree laugh.

  The image unnerved him. He’d managed to bury the memories of a time when his mother had still been a part of his life. All three of them had, he supposed, once she’d left them.

  Winfield was gazing over the farm, spread out below them. “It’s a mighty pretty place. Reminds me of where I grew up. Your brother’s, is it?”

  He nodded. Funny, but he hadn’t thought of how the property had been left. Caleb was the one who had kept it going no matter what had happened in their lives, so in that sense it was his, but in another way, it belonged to all of them—to everyone who had sprung from it and loved it.

  “I guess I’d better get to the point.” Winfield shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “I was mighty glad to get that letter from you. I’d been looking for you, but nobody seemed to know where you’d gone.”

  Aaron’s eyebrows lifted. “You’d been looking for me?”

  “Yeah. It was this way, you see.” He cleared his throat, seeming to have difficulty getting started. “Well, once I cooled down, I knew I’d been rash, accusing you before I’d looked into things on my own.”