The Farmer's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  Mamm started to sit down, then straightened. “Should I get some kaffee? Tea? Lemonade? Water?”

  “Nee,” Seth said, his voice sounding a little strained. “We’re fine.”

  Mamm smiled at him and sat down in the easy chair next to Daed. “Whatever you have to say, we’re all ears.” Daed nodded.

  Martha opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Oh, this wasn’t good. How could her voice betray her like this?

  “Um . . .” Seth cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “You see, Martha and I, well . . .” He cleared his throat again.

  She tried to speak again, but she only squeaked. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she tell her parents she didn’t have feelings for Seth? Why was she letting him do the hard and awkward thing?

  “Don’t be nervous, Seth.” Mamm gave him a reassuring smile.

  “He can be a little nervous.” Daed smirked. “It’s not every day you make a life-changing decision.”

  “I . . .” Seth suddenly turned pale. “Oh nee, I’ve got to geh.” He jumped up from the chair, grabbed his hat, went to the front door, stopped, and faced Martha. “I . . .” His face turned whiter than Mamm’s sheets after she bleached them, and he ran out the door.

  “What in the world?” Mamm looked at Martha, bewildered. “Is he all right?”

  Finally, Martha found her voice. “I have nee idea.”

  * * *

  For the third time that day Seth found himself running. He sprinted down the road and made a left turn until he was completely out of sight from Martha’s house. He stopped, winded, sick to his stomach, and full of regret. More importantly, he had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

  He moved to a nearby field and leaned against a large tree, sweat dripping down his face. That was nothing compared to the cold sweat he felt when he started talking to Martha’s parents. Tried talking, to be exact. And it wasn’t because her parents were looking at him with expectant expressions, or that they had an even more wrong idea about his and Martha’s relationship than before.

  It was because he couldn’t lie to them.

  He closed his eyes. He couldn’t tell Martha’s parents he didn’t have feelings for their daughter, because he did. That realization had hit him like a punch in the gut when her parents came into the room. No, it was before that, when he and Martha were sitting next to each other on the couch. He could have sat in one of the other chairs, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be near her, especially after she had told him about Paul. What a jerk. That guy had no idea what a special woman he’d lost, and it angered him that someone would treat her that way.

  He yanked off his hat and pushed his fingers through his damp hair. Now what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t tell Martha he liked her. Not when he’d made such a huge point of needing to end their fake relationship, and especially not when she didn’t return his feelings. But he also couldn’t leave things the way they were. He let out a bitter laugh at the irony. He was going to have to go back to Martha’s and tell a lie to erase another lie. A partial verse came to mind from the book of Colossians. Lie not to one another . . . Lying was all he’d been doing lately. Lying by omission about his woodshop. Lying about his feelings for Martha to trick people. And now he was considering lying about the most important thing of all—his true feelings for Martha.

  Seth picked up his hat and rammed it back on his head. He didn’t need this. He was worried about his father and feeling more and more responsible for the farm with each passing day. He didn’t need to fall for Martha. He didn’t need her in his life.

  But he wanted her in his life. He wanted to tell her about his father, about the pressure of running the farm, about the reason he wouldn’t try to sell his woodcarvings—they weren’t good enough. He wanted to pour out everything to her because he knew she would understand. She would comfort him with her sweet voice, and he would believe that everything would be all right. He trusted that God would work things out for good for his father. Yet having Martha on his side would make that conviction more . . . tangible.

  It was well past dark, and he couldn’t go back to the Detweilers’ tonight. Early in the morning he and his father were planning the crops for next year, which Seth hadn’t realized his father did every year. Then Daed and Mamm were going to Cleveland for his appointment. He would have time to see Martha’s parents in the afternoon, while Martha was at work, making it easier to get the words out. He would say what he should have said tonight. Surely Martha told them the truth after he’d run out. Now it was his turn, both to confess and apologize.

  “I don’t have feelings for Martha,” he sent into the night. The words pained his heart, but at least he did get them out. If he could speak them now, he could make himself speak them tomorrow.

  * * *

  Early the next morning Martha poured herself a cup of black coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Daed must already be outside, and Mamm was probably with him. Sometimes she joined him after she put on the coffee, before making breakfast.

  She stared at the cup, unable to take a sip. She still couldn’t make sense of what happened last night. One minute Seth was fine, and the next minute his face was as white as the milk in the pitcher on the table, and he was running away like his pants were on fire. She’d gone after him but then lost him as he turned the corner at the end of her street. Did he suddenly become sick and not want her to see him that way? That shouldn’t have mattered to him. She would have taken care of him no matter how sick he was.

  She gripped her spoon. She wanted to take care of him, and that was a huge problem, along with the fact that her parents still didn’t know the truth about her and Seth. Although she was sure they’d wanted to, they’d refrained from asking any questions when she’d returned and said she just wanted to go to bed.

  What happened had eaten her up inside last night, and she hadn’t slept much at all. That didn’t bode well for her, because she had to go to work today. Friday was often busy, because, next to Saturday, they had more English customers at the optics shop than on any other day of the week.

  “Martha?”

  She turned and looked at Mamm, who was setting a jar of raspberry jelly on the table. She’d never heard her come into the room. “Ya?”

  “Are you all right?” Mamm sat down next to her. “I’m surprised to see you up this early, but from the shadows under yer eyes, you should probably geh sleep a little longer. I’ll take care of breakfast.”

  Martha stared at her coffee cup again. “I can’t sleep.”

  “Because you’re worried about Seth?”

  She started to nod. Her mother was speaking the truth. She was worried about Seth. But that wasn’t the only reason behind her mother’s comment, and she couldn’t stand to lie to her anymore. “Seth and I aren’t . . . together.”

  “Oh? But last night . . .” Mamm paused. “Is that why he ran off? Because you broke up with him?”

  “Nee.” She pushed the coffee cup away. “I didn’t break up with him. He didn’t break up with me.”

  Mamm frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  Martha took a deep breath, then explained everything to her mother, including Cevilla’s plan B and Delilah’s plan to set her and Seth up with her grandchildren. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. “Forgive me for lying to you all this time.” She waited for her mother to say something. When she didn’t, Martha lifted her gaze.

  Her mother’s expression was firm, but there was sympathy in her eyes. “I’m definitely not happy that you lied to yer vatter and me, although we were guilty of jumping to conclusions.”

  “I knew you had. And we should have never led you to believe we were together.”

  “Nee. You shouldn’t have.” Mamm shook her head. “You’ve always had a kind heart, Martha. But sometimes it’s kinder to be honest and straightforward.” She touched Martha’s hand. “Although after what Paul put you through, I know it’s hard for you. Still, this was a convol
uted way to avoid telling everyone how you truly feel. The truth would be only fair to them, and to yerself.”

  Martha nodded. “You’re right.”

  “I’m disappointed in Cevilla, too, although I’m not surprised.” Mamm half-smiled. “From what I’ve heard, she has a history of meddling in other people’s romantic affairs.”

  “She has gut intentions.”

  “That’s not an excuse.” She moved the coffee cup back in front of Martha. “I’ll tell yer daed what happened.”

  “Nee, I’ll tell him. This is mei problem. Not anyone else’s.”

  “That’s true.” She paused. “If you and Seth were supposed to tell us the truth last night, then why didn’t you? And why did he run off like that?”

  Her cheeks heated at the thought of how she couldn’t get the words out last night. She still hadn’t told her mother about her feelings for Seth, only about their ruse. This morning she’d realized that her lack of words was because she couldn’t bring herself to lie anymore. But that didn’t explain Seth’s actions. “I don’t know. I hope he’s okay.”

  “So do I.” Mamm glanced at the clock. “Geh lie down for a few minutes. Like I said, I’ll take care of breakfast.” She got up and went to the stove.

  “That’s it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not disappointed in me?”

  Mamm turned to her. “I’m disappointed in the lying, ya. And next time you’re struggling, I want you to come to me. We can work through it together. But I think you’re in the process of reaping what you’ve sown. Those are consequences enough.”

  Martha breathed out a sigh of relief, even though she thought her mother was letting her off the hook a little too easily. But Martha still had to talk to Cevilla—and yes, even Delilah—and set things straight. She wasn’t looking forward to that.

  “By the way,” Mamm said, pouring a cup of flour into a bowl, “if you haven’t been with Seth all this time, where have you been?”

  She sucked in a breath. She hadn’t anticipated this question, and she couldn’t spill Seth’s secret. Lord, what am I supposed to say?

  “Never mind.” Mamm poured some milk into the bowl and started to stir. “You’re an adult, and what you do with yer private time isn’t mei business. I’m sorry I pried.”

  “It’s all right.” She took a gulp of coffee, which was now lukewarm. “I think I will lie down,” she said.

  “I’ll call you when breakfast is ready.”

  Martha left the kitchen, went to the living room, and laid on the couch. She closed her eyes. Thank you, Lord. Yet she still wasn’t settled in her soul, and she wouldn’t be until she set everyone straight about her and Seth’s deception . . . and until she was able to forget about her feelings for him once and for all.

  * * *

  Seth stood on the porch as his mother and father waited for the taxi to take them to Cleveland. “We should be back this evening,” Daed said.

  Seth looked at his parents, seeing the firm set of his father’s jaw beneath his beard and the worry in his mother’s eyes. “I’m sure the doctor will have gut news,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

  “God willing.” Daed turned to him. “Whatever happens, sohn, it will be God’s will.”

  Seth was familiar with that line of reasoning—it was at the core of his faith. But sometimes God’s will was hard to swallow, especially when it was possible his father would become blind. Seth nodded. If his father believed, Seth would believe too.

  “There’s not too much to do today, other than the regular chores,” Daed said. “You and yer bruders will probably have them done this morning, and when you finish you can have some free time this afternoon. Judah plans to spend the rest of the day with the Bontragers, and Ira told me he could use some free time too.”

  “You two have been working especially hard,” Mamm added. She gave her husband a sharp look. “Too hard, I think.”

  A blue sedan pulled into the driveway. Daed and Mamm made their way to the car, and Seth stayed on the porch until they drove away. He closed his eyes and prayed. As he finished his prayer, Ira came outside and stood beside him.

  “I’m surprised they’re going to Cleveland,” he said. “They rarely travel past Barton.”

  Seth turned to him. “How did you know where they were going?”

  “I overheard them talking this morning,” Ira said quietly.

  Seth paused. Had his brother heard anything else? From the blank expression on Ira’s face, he couldn’t tell.

  They didn’t say anything for a moment as a hot breeze fluttered through the trees in the front yard. Finally, Ira spoke. “I told Daed I’d be gone this afternoon,” Ira said. “I have some, uh, business to attend to.”

  Seth nodded, barely hearing him. He wasn’t just thinking about his parents. Martha and her folks were also on his mind. He hadn’t slept a wink thinking about what happened. All he’d done was delay the inevitable.

  “Seth?” Ira said.

  “Fine,” he said with a wave. “Do whatever you need to do.”

  “Who put vinegar in yer milk this morning?” Ira muttered, then walked back inside.

  After they finished the chores and ate the lunch Mamm had made for them, Ira and Judah both left. Although he could always find things to do around the farm, he decided to go ahead to the Detweilers’. He had to get this over with. He started in the direction of their home, but his gut started churning. He turned in the opposite direction and headed for the woodshop. He was surprised he hadn’t thought to come here in the first place. With Martha at work, he knew she wouldn’t be there. He needed to alleviate some stress, and woodcarving would help.

  A few hours later, he looked at his halfway-finished project and grimaced. He’d tried to make a plaque similar to Martha’s, but it didn’t have her charm. He didn’t have her skill. He threw it into the bin of scrap wood. His mind hadn’t been fully on carving anyway. Between his father, Martha, and now realizing that he might never be good enough at woodcarving to make it a career, he was angry. His world was upside down, and he had Martha Detweiler to blame.

  Seth hung his head. He couldn’t blame her, not completely. It wasn’t her fault he’d fallen for a woman who didn’t feel the same about him. The blame for that was squarely at his feet.

  He looked around the woodshop, seeing Martha’s touch everywhere. The place was filled with her presence. This had been his sanctuary. It didn’t feel like that anymore. He flung open the door, then pulled it shut, not bothering to lock it behind him. What did it matter if someone else found this place? It would never be the same for him again.

  He trudged into the woods, his feet feeling heavy. It was cooler today than it had been in a long time, and a strong wind had kicked up. He should be grateful for it, but he felt only bitterness—about everything.

  A strange scent filled the air. He sniffed. Smoke? Who would be burning on a day like this? A burn ban had been in place in their county all summer. But as the wind kicked up, the scent of smoke grew stronger. He saw a plume of smoke rising in the direction of Jalon’s property. Fire!

  He burst through the woods only to see that Jalon’s farm wasn’t on fire. His was.

  Chapter 14

  Martha held Seth’s old clock in her hands. She’d asked her uncle to repair it, and now it kept perfect time. She put it back on the shelf, impatient. The shop wouldn’t close for another hour.

  Onkel Hezekiah had been happily working in the back most of the day, like he always did. She finally understood the passion he had for his job. He could make a living doing something he loved. Not everyone had that good fortune. For her the day had been slow, and her mind had bounced from woodworking, to Seth, to Cevilla and Delilah, then back to Seth. It was as if she had a ping-pong game going on in her head, and she couldn’t let it continue.

  She had decided she was going to give Seth back his key. Staying away from him was the only way she could get rid of her feelings for him
, and even though he was too busy to work in his shop, his presence permeated the space. She wouldn’t be able to keep her mind off him when she was there, remembering how good it felt to be so close to him. But that didn’t mean her decision was an easy one. She couldn’t stand the idea of not being able to work in his woodshop, yet she couldn’t keep going there either. How was she supposed to give up these two things she loved?

  She tamped down her worry, which was making her head ache, and went back to the workroom, needing a distraction. Her uncle was hunched over a pair of glasses, replacing the nose pads. Ever since he’d repaired Levi’s frames, more people had brought their glasses to him instead of going to the optical shop in Barton. As usual, word got around quickly in Birch Creek.

  “I’ll be outside cleaning off the front walk,” she said. He nodded in response, not looking at her. She went outside and grabbed the broom she used specifically for outdoor use.

  As she swept the dust and bits of gravel off the short concrete walkway, she heard a siren wailing in the distance. She paused, a strong breeze making her kapp strings flutter against her shoulders. The sound sent a cold shiver down her spine. She hadn’t heard a siren that close since she’d moved here. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that wherever the emergency vehicle was heading, there would be a good outcome.

  She finished sweeping the walk and leaned the broom under the awning. She looked at the store’s front. An empty space next to the door would be perfect for a small sign. Her uncle already had a large one near the road, but a simple, yet decorative wood sign would add a nice touch to the building. Maybe she could make one for him. But then she remembered she was giving Seth back his key, which sent her emotions into another tailspin.

  “Martha!”

  She turned to see her mother running toward her. Panic crashed through her. Her mother didn’t run. Martha hurried to meet her.

  “There’s a fire at the Yoders’,” she exclaimed, trying to catch her breath. “All available hands are needed. Yer daed is already there.”