The Amish Marriage Bargain (Love Inspired)

by Marie E. Bast

  “The swelling in my foot is down. I think I can manage.”

  “I’m going to make sure. I’ll come up and help you. You are too important of a commodity to have anything happen to you.”

  She smiled for the second time today. “You’re too late, I’m already damaged goods.” She pointed to her foot.

  He gave her a wink as he stood. “Jah, but now you are captive company.”

  * * *

  After chores, Thad washed up, sliced the ham and then made the batter for French toast. The sizzling maple-glazed ham permeated the air with an aroma that teased his stomach.

  Thump. Thump.

  He stepped back from the stove and listened. Thump. He sat his spatula down on the spoon rest and ran to the stairs. “I thought you were going to wait until I came and helped you?”

  “I wanted to see if I could maneuver this boot around.” Under his cautious eye, May shuffled through the door and slumped into a chair at the table. “Mmm, that smells gut. I didn’t know I was so hungry.”

  “I’m glad you’re not too picky. My skills as a cook are limited, I’m afraid.”

  “Nein. I’m very grateful to you for all your help. You know your mamm wouldn’t approve if she saw you waving that spatula like you know what you’re doing.”

  Thad grinned. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. When I was young and hungry and Mamm wasn’t home, I cooked all the time.” He raised his spatula up and down in the air as if he was lifting a hundred-pound bale of hay.

  “Ach, my hero,” she laughed, and their eyes met for a second before she pulled away.

  A soft knock sounded on the door. Thad put down his spatula. “I hope it’s not Mamm again,” he whispered as he passed May.

  He opened the door to three wonderful women holding baskets of what smelled like food. “Come in, come in. And if that is what I think it is, I can retire my spatula for a few days.”

  Hannah Smith, Minnie Miller and Mary Brenneman, her neighbors and dear friends, crowded through the door, laughing at Thad and rushing to May’s side. They each swirled an arm around May and hugged her gently.

  “We were so sorry to hear about your fall.” Hannah set her basket of food on the table. “There’s a couple casseroles here, plus breads, meat loaf and desserts. You—or Thad—won’t have to cook for several days.”

  “Danki, that’s wunderbaar.”

  “So how is married life treating you?” Minnie asked, with a teasing tone. “Maybe we shouldn’t ask since you broke your foot and you’ll be chained to this haus for several days.”

  The ladies chatted, sharing the latest news of Jesse and Kim Kauffman, who were moving to Indiana, and Turner and Naomi Lapp were expecting another boppli. They teased May and Thad a little before saying good-night and then headed home, promising they would be back soon to visit.

  Thad closed the door after them. “Supper is almost cold.”

  “That’s okay. I’m starved. You made it, and I’m going to eat it.”

  Something in the way May said that warmed his heart. It had a pleasant tone and even a fondness. Could it be that she was finally setting the past on the shelf and going to give their marriage a chance?

  Chapter Seven

  A golden stream of sunbeams poured through May’s window and warmed her face. Reluctantly her eyes opened. She glanced at the clock. 10:00 a.m. She’d slept all through the night and almost all morning. She had slept for twelve hours. Thad would think her lazy.

  She jerked upright, then stopped. A wave of pain seized her foot, and a pronounced ache traveled from her shoulder down her back to her hips. It was as if a horse and buggy had driven over her. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, stepped into her ankle brace and stood. Another wave of pain washed over her. She moved slowly toward the hook where her dress hung on the wall.

  Each step was a challenge. She stopped, pulled in a deep breath and blew it out.

  Her muscles felt tight and needed stretching. The fall yesterday must have pulled and bruised every muscle in her body. She rested for a moment, then sucked in three deep breaths and walked to the wall where a peg held her dress. She pulled her dress off the peg, draped it over her head and slipped her injured arm through the sleeve, then the other. Ach, it hurt more than she thought it would. She bit her lip and braced her back against the wall for a moment. She felt a little dizzy from the pain. In a minute, it cleared.

  A soft tap sounded on the bedroom door.

  “Yes. Is that you, Thad?”

  The door cracked open. “Can I come in a minute?”

  “Stay right there. I don’t have my prayer kapp on.” Her hair was a mess. She couldn’t let him see her like this, and she probably needed to pinch her cheeks and bring a little color to them.

  “Caleb called while I was in the barn. They will bring Leah back to us next Friday, if we decide that you’re feeling better and ready to handle her.”

  “That would be wunderbaar.”

  “Do you need help getting dressed?” His voice seemed hesitant.

  “Nein. I’m just sore and moving slow as a caterpillar. I’ll be down in a minute to fix breakfast.”

  “Not necessary. I’ve already fixed scrambled eggs and sliced ham. So when you come down, it’ll be waiting for you.”

  Had she heard him right? She pushed away from the wall and took a step in his direction. “You made breakfast?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t be so surprised. I told you last night, just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I don’t know how to cook a little or take care of myself. I’m heading back out. I left a note on the table, but I wanted to check on you. I’ll stop back later.” He pulled the door closed.

  She smiled.

  A small spark of relief surged through her as she fought with her prayer kapp to get it in place over her bun. The next time Sarah or someone stopped by, she’d ask them to help her with her hair. She sighed at the effort it took to get dressed. It would have been noon before she had breakfast ready, moving at this pace.

  The aroma of strong coffee hit May’s nostrils when she entered the kitchen, followed by the tantalizing whiff of honey-glazed ham that set her stomach growling. She reached for the orange juice in the gas-powered refrigerator and gasped at what she saw. Thad had made meat loaf sandwiches, all wrapped up and stacked on a shelf ready for lunch.

  A tinge of guilt nudged her. He was trying to be nice, and she appreciated that.

  A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth although she tried to resist. For sure and certain, he had a sweet way about him sometimes.

  A knock sounded on the screen door, then it opened. “Ach, Janie, what are you doing? Come in, come in.”

  Janie rushed to May and gave her a big hug. “It’s all over town that you fell and some big handsome man caught you and saved your life. That big strong man wouldn’t happen to be your wunderbaar ehemann, would it?” She gave her a knowing wink.

  “He didn’t exactly catch me. I wish he would have, then I might not have broken my foot. Danki for stopping by.”

  “Of course. I baked you some cookies. Chocolate chip.” Janie held up a plate covered with plastic wrap. “What else would you like help with while I’m here?”

  “Could you help me wash my hair? My arm and shoulder are sore and it’s hard to lift my arms above my head.”

  “I can do that while I tell you my big news. Let’s go to the sink. Where’s your shampoo?”

  “Under the sink. Ach, what big news?”

  Janie giggled. “Jonah Hochstetler asked me out.”

  “Nein,” May gasped.

  “Yes, yes, yes. He is every bit as handsome as his big brother Thad.”

  “When did all this happen?”

  “At the wedding while you were busy being a new frau. We spent most of the afternoon together.”

  “I can’t believe you wa
ited so long to tell me.”

  “Now, May, as you well know, courting is a private matter to the Amish. Besides, I wanted to make sure there was some kind of spark. Some real feelings there. Ach, then he asked me out again.” She gave a little scream, then quieted. “I hope Gretchen the Grouch didn’t hear me.”

  May smiled behind her hand. Her mother-in-law was rather grouchy. But it wasn’t right to agree with Janie openly. “So how many times have you gone out with him?”

  “Several times. It’s been so wunderbaar. I really like him, May. I was hoping that Simon would ask Josie out, but it didn’t happen. I think she sort of liked him.”

  “For real? I hadn’t noticed any of this going on at my wedding.”

  “Jah, well, you were a little busy with that handsome ehemann of yours. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two holding hands and snuggling at times.”

  “Oh, stop. He just had his arm around me, and he is my ehemann after all.”

  “I know. I just wanted to see if you did, too. How are you two getting along in your bargain marriage?”

  “I shouldn’t have told you about that. You must never tell anyone. Promise me, Janie.”

  “May, anyone could figure it out. You hated him something awful after he married April. I’m actually shocked you gave in to the bishop.”

  May shot Janie a stern stare. “I had my reasons.”

  “How does your hair feel? It’s all clean and back up in a bun.”

  “I forgot to tell you, Josie is coming to stay a few weeks and help me take care of Leah while my foot is healing. If she likes him so much, maybe we could have Simon over for dinner.”

  “Now, May, don’t go playing matchmaker. You didn’t like it when the bishop first came to you.”

  “That was different. I’m only going to ask him if he is interested.”

  Janie chatted away, listing all the pros and cons to a match between Simon and Josie. “If it did happen, and she married Simon and I married Jonah, we would all three be sisters. Ach, that would be wunderbaar. Jah, and now before I go, I’m going to tidy up Thad’s messy kitchen.” Janie cleaned the stove and washed dishes, the whole time talking and sharing her dream for her and Jonah.

  May smiled and got a word in sideways occasionally.

  Thad had cooked breakfast. He was good to make eggs and sandwiches, even though he hadn’t cleaned up.

  She was grateful to Thad, and to Janie, for all the help around the house. But a veil of shame covered May’s heart. She was careless to have gotten up on the stool and fallen. Now Thad had to spend his valuable time helping her, or paying others to do her work. Josie would work for free, but she knew Thad would want to pay her. Money he didn’t have right now. She felt useless. Instead of helping Thad, she was a burden to him.

  * * *

  The week passed slowly. May rested as much as possible to keep the swelling down. She scratched around the boot. Her foot was already mending. She could feel it getting stronger every day. The bruising was gone.

  She puttered around the kitchen. When she opened a cupboard door, she noticed Thad had rearranged the contents so the dishes they used every day were more accessible on the lower shelves. It was nice how he surprised her with these little helpful gestures without asking her, just taking it upon himself to make things more convenient.

  She smiled to herself when she thought of him working in the kitchen, and an image of him with his beard tickled her memory. When they courted, he was single and clean-shaven, but Old Order Amish followed the law Moses gave that a man at adulthood wasn’t to cut his hair or beard. But May didn’t mind. The beard matured his face and even gave him a dignified appearance. With some men, the beard changed their appearance, and it wasn’t for the better. She couldn’t say that about Thad. His dark hair and beard framed his dark blue eyes.

  When he was in the haus with her, his gaze often followed her when he thought she wasn’t looking. He wanted to help her, but she had to show him she was strong enough to take care of Leah.

  May scooped up a dust cloth. She worked alone for two hours, dusting and cleaning until her good arm started to tire. But it was important she show Thad she was getting stronger and ready to have Leah come back home. She straightened her back and stretched to ease the tightness. Today, her arm was only a little sore but felt stronger. Her foot felt comfortable in the boot. Tonight, a nice dose of liniment smoothed over the foot and arm would help them heal even faster.

  She glanced at the clock. Almost noon. May opened the refrigerator and pulled out the sandwiches she had noticed earlier that Thad must have made again, poured the lemonade and set the plates on the table.

  At noon, she heard Thad’s boots thumping up the porch steps and the screen door squeak open. He hesitated when he saw her and jerked his head toward the table. “How are you feeling today?” he drawled in Pennsylvania Dutch.

  “A little better. Danki for rearranging the cupboards.” It amazed her how simply that gratitude rolled off her tongue, with no bitter undertone.

  Thad must have noticed, because his bunched shoulders relaxed as he washed up at the sink, then he took an easy gait to his chair at the table.

  A playful smile pulled at the corners of his mouth for the briefest second before he wiped it away. She could see he wanted to make another comment but thought he’d better not tempt the light mood.

  After silent prayer, May took a bite of her meat loaf sandwich. It actually felt gut to eat a sandwich that Thad had made especially for her.

  A knock sounded and the screen door opened. “Yoo-hoo! Is anyone home?”

  May’s back stiffened.

  Thad called out, “Come in, Mamm.”

  “Hullo, dear. I came to see how May was doing and if there was anything I could do to help.”

  “That was very nice of you to stop by, Mamm, but we have everything under control.”

  May threw Thad a sidelong look. She liked his vote of confidence. “Danki for stopping by, Gretchen. I’m doing much better and up on my feet. It is a little slow going in the boot, but I’m managing.” Hopefully, this was Gretchen’s way of trying to make amends.

  “Well, if you don’t need any help right now, I’ll stop by again tomorrow.”

  May and Thad finished their lunch, and Thad set his napkin down on the kitchen table.

  “I have a dairy association meeting at four o’clock this afternoon. Will you be okay staying here by yourself for a little while?”

  “Of course, but could you lift that bucket of string beans to the table so I can snap them?”

  May grabbed a towel and laid it on the table, and he set the bucket down. “I’ll stick my head back in before I go. Anything else?”

  “Nein, I’m gut.”

  After an hour of snapping beans, she stretched and exercised her arm, then finished snapping the beans. She rinsed the beans in cold water, drained and stored the bowls in the refrigerator.

  Thad poked his head in the door and called out. “May, I’m leaving for the meeting.”

  “Fine. See you later.”

  She had just enough time to rest, then she’d have to start thinking about supper, although that would be easy. So many members of their community had dropped off food. May laid her head against the back of the chair in the living room for just a minute to rest.

  Sometime later, she heard someone call her name. “May. May?”

  She opened her eyes and noticed her ehemann standing over her, the sweet smell of the goat’s milk soap wafting in the air. “Oh, you’re home. How was the meeting?”

  “Not gut.” He sat down next to her. “Because there is an overproduction of organic milk, the association is only selling 85 percent and the rest is being sold at regular price. This is on top of the price of the organic milk dropping, too.”

  May gasped. She reached over and covered his hand with hers. “How long can
we last with just the crops for income?”

  He leaned his head on the back of the chair, then lifted it and faced her. “Not long. The only way we are surviving this year is because of our vegetable crop. Let’s pray we don’t have weather that will ruin it. But if the dairy association can’t get a response from the USDA, we might have to take drastic action.”

  “What kind of action?” Panic swept through her.

  “Sell out!”

  Fear prickled the hair on her arm as her gaze met his. Besides Leah, saving the farm was the reason she made the marriage bargain. Selling wasn’t going to happen.

  Nein, not if she had to sell every stick of furniture they had, she wouldn’t let them lose the farm.

  Chapter Eight

  May stood at the kitchen sink while the Friday morning sun streamed in through the window onto the African violet sitting on the windowsill. She checked the plant’s soil. Jah, still moist.

  Her thoughts wandered to the farm. What could she do to bring in a significant amount of money? Get a job? Who would take care of Leah? Nein, she’d miss her pumpkin too much to get a job.

  Hearing buggy wheels and horse’s hooves clomping up the drive, she glanced out the window, hurried across the porch and clunked her boot down each step. Thad raced from the barn and they reached Sarah and Caleb’s carriage at the same time.

  Caleb helped Sarah and Leah down, and as soon as Leah saw May, she nearly jumped into her arms.

  “Mamm. Home, Mamm.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here, sweetheart. Danki for taking care of her.”

  Sarah gave a flip of her hand to wave the thought away. “We were glad to do it. We loved having her. She missed you, but Jacob and Mary kept her busy and entertained.”

  She hugged Leah as her arms encircled May’s neck. She kissed her pumpkin’s cheek. “It’s so gut to have you home. I have missed you.”

  Seven-year-old Jacob lifted a box from the carriage and set it on the ground. “Jah, I can carry her easy.”

  “Jah? You must be very strong.” May winked.