Amish Romance: The Wedding (Hollybrook Amish Romance Greta's Story Book 3)

by Brenda Maxfield

  One more time.

  Chapter Three

  By the time afternoon came, Greta was finished with all her chores. There was no reason anymore to put it off. She had to go to Isaac’s and apologize.

  “You leaving?” her father asked her, as she put on a shawl.

  She turned, surprised. She hadn’t realized that he had come into the hallway next to the wash room.

  “Jah.”

  “Where to?”

  “I need to see Isaac about something.”

  His brow wrinkled. “You shouldn’t be going over there alone.”

  “Dat, he’s a widower. I’m not a teenager anymore, and we’re to be married. I won’t dally.”

  “Why not invite Todd in for supper tonight?” Raymond picked up his jacket and put it on. “I’ll go find him right now and ask him.”

  Greta frowned. “Dat, you know I’m marrying Isaac.”

  “Don’t mean we can’t be neighborly and ask the boy. He does work in our fields, you know.”

  Greta shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She didn’t want to have Todd for supper. It would be too uncomfortable. Ever since he’d found out about the promise she’d made to Betty, he’d hardly spoken to her. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like having a meal in the same room with him.

  “Dat—”

  Raymond held up his hand, interrupting her. “This here is my house, daughter. And if I want to ask someone for supper, I’ll do it.”

  “Fine. We’re having chicken salad sandwiches.”

  “Can’t you make some shoofly pie for desert? You know how he likes it.”

  Greta sighed. “I’m not trying to impress him. I’m engaged.”

  “You ain’t been published yet.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s happening.”

  Raymond’s lips puffed out in a scowl. “Ain’t happened yet.”

  And with that, he shuffled by her and out the door, slamming it behind him. Greta did her best to ignore the flash of irritation that swept through her.

  Chapter Four

  Abigail pressed her palms against her smooth hair, ensuring it was tucked perfectly under her kapp. She ran her hands over her dress, checking for wrinkles. Inhaling deeply, she left the house.

  Dread hovered over her. She gave a soft snort.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she whispered under her breath. “No one’s making you go over there. You want to go.”

  She raised her chin and walked with more purposeful strides. Old Mae only knew she was going for a walk—although, the astute old woman had probably guessed exactly where she was heading. But Mae hadn’t stopped her, and that was something.

  Abigail knew full well that traipsing over to a single man’s farm was not favorably looked upon. She shivered. She was going to do it anyway. She had to. For her own peace of mind.

  The air was brisk, and Abigail regretted not putting on a sweater beneath her cape. The tips of her ears were cold, and her nose was beginning to run. Well. That would make her look mighty appealing now, wouldn’t it? She trudged on. Her looks didn’t matter. She wanted to know Isaac’s heart. She’d been sure that there had been a flicker of something between them once. She’d felt it.

  But maybe she was mistaken. Maybe, it had been merely hopeful on her part.

  The walk wasn’t long. Before a half an hour had passed, Abigail was standing at the end of Isaac’s drive staring at his house. If she looked closely, she could see where the recent fire had been. The outside wall and window of the kitchen were obviously new, and the white paint in that area looked brighter and cleaner.

  Without giving herself time to back out, she marched to the front door and knocked. She waited, but there was no answer. She looked toward the barn. It was open, but she couldn’t see any movement there. She left the porch and wandered behind the house.

  There he was, kneeling by the clothesline pole with a trowel. She stopped.

  He looked over and upon seeing her, his eyes widened.

  “Abigail?” He stood and brushed the dirt from his knees. “What is it?”

  Abigail’s mouth went dry, and she felt a lump form in her throat. What was she to say? Why hadn’t she rehearsed her words? She felt her face go hot.

  He took a step toward her, his forehead creasing into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hello, Isaac,” she managed to croak out. She swallowed. “Uh, I was just wondering how it’s going.”

  What was she thinking? What a stupid thing to say.

  His frown deepened. “What?” He stared at her and then wiped the trowel on the side of his leg. “Uh … fine. Everything’s fine.”

  He hadn’t moved closer. In fact, now he was standing completely still.

  “I-I, well, I was out for a walk.” Abigail twisted her hands in front of her. This wasn’t going well at all. She had to give him some reason for coming by.

  “Getting cold, these days,” he said. The look of confusion on his face might have been amusing in a different situation.

  “Jah. Cold.” Abigail was thoroughly annoyed with herself. When had she turned into such a weak, ineffectual person? She squared her shoulders. “I wanted to speak with you.”

  “Oh?”

  She took a deep breath. “So, you and Greta will be married?”

  His eyebrows shot up to the brim of his hat. His lips parted.

  She took a step closer. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

  Isaac took off his hat, hit it a couple times on his thigh, and then put it back on. “We ain’t published yet.”

  “I know. But still…”

  “Jah. We’re gettin’ married.”

  His expression grew even more confused. Abigail knew she was crossing the lines of proper behavior, but she’d come this far, hadn’t she?

  “I was wondering … uh … I was wondering how you feel about that?”

  He blinked and stepped back. “What?”

  She held up her hand. “I know. I know this is an odd question…”

  “Did Betty ask you to check up on us? I mean, did she ask you to ensure I married Greta?” His voice was stilted. He looked completely uncomfortable, as if all he wanted to do was flee.

  “What? Betty…?” Abigail said. “Nee. She never asked me to check on you.”

  “So that isn’t why you’re back in Hollybrook? That isn’t why you’re here today?”

  “Nee.” She put her arms around herself as if she were freezing. And indeed, deep inside her heart, a cold wind blew.

  “So, why are you asking?”

  “I-I…” Abigail was speechless. Suddenly, her brazen attempt to dig into Isaac’s heart seemed preposterous. Unparalleled in stupidity. “No reason.” She ducked her head to avoid his questioning gaze. She turned on her heel to leave.

  “Abigail?”

  She froze, but didn’t look back at him.

  She heard him drawing close. With another step, he circled her and touched her shoulder. “What is it?” he asked softly.

  She looked up into his brown eyes that were studying her so avidly.

  “Nothing.” She gave him a weak smile. “Nothing.”

  She skirted around him and ran toward the front of the house. He didn’t have any feelings for her. What had she been thinking? She’d been insane to come. She had mistaken his interest in her. She shuddered as she ran. He would think her pathetic now. Tears stung her eyes, and she ran all the way down the drive to the road.

  She whirled around the corner and then stopped short, her breath coming in gasps. She had nearly run smack into the path of a horse and cart. She pressed her hands to her chest.

  Nee. Nee. Nee, she cried inwardly.

  Greta was driving the cart.

  Chapter Five

  “Abigail!” Greta cried, surprise ringing through her voice.

  Abigail sucked in her breath. “Greta.”

  Greta’s eyes flew behind her to Isaac’s drive. Why was Abigail there? Uneasiness rumbled through her stomach. “What are you do
ing?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

  “I-I was at Isaac’s,” Abigail said.

  Greta couldn’t miss the look of guilt on her friend’s face.

  “I see that. Was there something you needed?” Greta knew she was sounding possessive, but didn’t she have the privilege? Wasn’t she going to be the man’s wife?

  The correct phrase second wife rang through her head, but she pressed the thought aside.

  “Nothing,” Abigail said.

  Greta could see the tears in Abigail’s eyes. Just what had gone on here? Was there something going on between Isaac and Abigail—as she had long suspected? Was that why Isaac had suggested such a poor excuse for a wedding? Her spine stiffened.

  “It’s … it’s not what you think,” Abigail stuttered. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “How do you even know what I think?” Greta asked. She heard her hard tone, but did nothing to soften it.

  “I don’t know.” Abigail raised her chin. “I’ll be getting along,” she said. “Mammi said she might have a baby to deliver today.”

  Greta nodded.

  Abigail gave her a pathetic excuse for a wave and hurried down the road. Greta should have offered her a ride. She had the time. She watched Abigail move swiftly over the asphalt. Then she looked ahead to Isaac’s place, what was to be her place soon.

  She flicked the reins over Clacker, and the pony trotted straight into Isaac’s drive. Greta spotted Isaac immediately. He was standing by the corner of the house, staring across the yard as if he was expecting her. But no, that wasn’t possible. It dawned on her that he’d been watching Abigail leave. She pulled up before him and climbed down.

  “Gut day, Isaac.”

  He had the decency to look embarrassed. She secured the reins and walked up to him.

  “How are you today?”

  He tilted his head. “Fine. What brings you out?”

  His tone was cautious, and she felt a sadness move through her. This was not how she’d ever imagined it would be with her fiancé.

  “I came to see you.”

  He ran his hand over his beard. Nor had she ever expected her fiancé to already have a beard. She wanted to be the reason for its growth—not some other woman. She had a fleeting urge to tell him to shave it off until after their wedding, but knew she would never do that.

  “You saw Abigail?” he questioned. She was surprised that he’d mention her.

  “Jah. What did she want?”

  He tugged on his beard now, and his brows came down in a frown. “Don’t rightly know.”

  She balked. “What?”

  His eyes met hers. “She didn’t really say.”

  “She likes you.” Greta took a step closer. “Surely, you understand that.”

  His lips formed a tight line before he responded. “I was wonderin’.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing.”

  Greta waited, hoping he’d divulge something more, but he didn’t. She let out a long sigh. “I came here to discuss our wedding.”

  She saw him tense, and she held up her hand. “Don’t fret. I’ll be happy to marry you anyway you choose, Isaac.”

  She was shocked that the words came out of her mouth. They even sounded normal, not charged with the emotion that stormed through her. His shoulders relaxed, and he nodded.

  “I think it’s best.”

  She managed to give him a smile, but she knew if she didn’t leave right away, she’d burst into tears. She thought she had come to peace with the idea, more or less. But now, she realized that the thought of losing a real wedding was breaking her heart.

  “All right. I’ll be going.” She turned on her heel and moved to the cart. A sob caught in her throat, and she pressed her lips closed against it.

  “Greta?”

  She paused, but she didn’t dare turn back around.

  “Greta?”

  “Jah?” She managed to get the word out, still keeping her back to him.

  He reached out and touched her shoulder, turning her around. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears coursed down her cheeks. She lowered her head and gazed at her feet.

  “Greta.” This time his voice was a sigh. He pulled her to him and put his arms around her.

  She buried her face in his chest, thoroughly ashamed for such a display of emotion. He rested his chin on her head.

  “You’re unhappy,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

  She nodded, and his chest went hard.

  “Why?” he whispered.

  How could he not know? She sniffed and drew back from him. “I’m fine,” she said, blinking her tears away.

  “Is it Betty?”

  She shook her head. She was so frustrated, she wanted to lash out at him. Betty? Really? What was the matter with the man?

  She couldn’t bring herself to answer him. She merely pulled completely away and climbed into her cart. “Good-bye, Isaac. Tell me when to be ready.”

  “Ready?”

  “To get married.”

  He frowned. “Oh. Oh, jah. I’ll tell you.”

  She snapped the reins, and Clacker took her back home.

  Greta put supper on the table and called her father in from the front room. Thankfully, he’d forgotten about inviting Todd Fisher to eat with them. Greta didn’t think she could get through the meal if she had to pretend she was fine in front of company. It would be hard enough to fool her father.

  But she did.

  After the meal, she went out to stand on the porch before going up to bed. It was cold, and she welcomed the sting of it on her skin. Was she making the biggest mistake of her life by marrying a man so out of tune with what she wanted?

  She had no idea.

  Chapter Six

  Isaac sat in his front room next to the warming stove. His long legs were stretched out before him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  James would already be in bed by now. The boy’s grandmother had probably tucked him in hours ago. Isaac missed his son. Once he and Greta were married, he would bring James back home. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Perhaps, he could bring him home before that. Why couldn’t he? The harvest was in, so he could watch the baby all day, couldn’t he? And maybe while James napped, Isaac could tend to the animals and such.

  His mouth puckered as he thought about it.

  No. He needed someone to help him. He couldn’t take care of all his chores with a baby. Greta could watch him. Maybe he could take the baby to her house during the day.

  But then, if they married soon, the whole thing would be taken care of anyway. And if they just did it legal-like in town, they could marry immediately.

  He wriggled in his chair to get more comfortable. Something was wrong with Greta. She hadn’t been crying about Betty that afternoon, but she was unhappy. Was it with him? Did she not want to marry him after all? He felt sure that she’d been in favor of it.

  Greta was a good woman. And she was kind. Nowadays, when he thought of marrying her, he felt better. More at peace. She would be a good mother to James, there was no doubt about that.

  He wondered how his own mother would feel about his marriage. He imagined she’d be all right with it; she was a practical woman after all. And a man alone with a small baby would be hard, if not impossible, living on a farm. He took a long breath.

  He needed to collect Myrtle from his neighbor. Stephen Lapp had been taking care of the goat while he was away. But he was back now, and it wasn’t right that Stephen still had the critter. Funny how fond Isaac felt about the animal these days. Myrtle had been Betty’s pride and joy—and his annoyance. But since Betty’s death, the goat had increased in his estimation.

  He snickered and then sighed.

  Just one of the many things that had changed since Betty’s death. He smiled as he remembered their wedding. How Betty’s family had fussed over things, working till late at night, preparing it all. Betty had been so excited. He
r face had shone with joy and happiness. Isaac remembered how it had made him feel so wonderful, knowing it was his proposal that had brought it all about.

  Betty loved being engaged, and she’d loved everything about her wedding preparations.

  Isaac stiffened. A frown crept across his face as realization swept through him.

  He was a complete idiot. And heartless to boot.

  What was wrong with him? He knew with sudden clarity exactly why Greta was upset. And it was absolutely because of him. With his cold pronouncement earlier, he had wiped away all of Greta’s joy over her own wedding. He had stolen it all from her. Every dream, every anticipation, every delight.

  Was it too late to fix it? And could he fix it right away—that night? He jumped up from his chair and went to the front window. The darkness had already closed over the land. If he went to Greta’s right then, he’d have to light the lanterns on his wagon. He knew that Raymond Glick was a difficult man and probably wouldn’t welcome a visitor that late in the evening. But what must Greta be thinking? And she’d come over specifically to tell him that she’d marry him in any manner he wished. He wondered what it had cost her to say that.

  He grimaced. What a mess he was making. Greta deserved better. She did. And Betty would probably skin him alive if she knew what he’d suggested. He hurried to the wash room and grabbed his jacket from the peg. He needed to fix this now.

  Within minutes, he was on his way down the road to the Glick’s farm. No one else was about, and he made good time. He was grateful to see that a light still shone from the downstairs window. He’d been afraid that both Greta and her father would have already gone up to bed. He pulled on the reins, parking his wagon near the road. Then he jumped out and walked across the lawn to the front porch. He rapped gently on the door.

  Greta answered it, and her eyes went wide at seeing him.

  “Isaac,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I talk to you? Outside on the porch? It will only take a few minutes.”