by Amy Lillard
How did he know that?
Sarah looked at the unique bouquet once again, this time seeing it with different eyes. Chocolate chip cookies and icing? Could this get any more perfect?
“I can’t accept them.”
“What?” Annie and Jonah whirled on her, each speaking over the other.
“Why not?” Annie asked.
“Stay out of this, sister.”
“Sarah, they’re just cookies. Why would you not be able to accept them?” Jonah took a step toward her when she wished he would turn around and take his pretty cookies that made up the sweet bouquet and head out the door.
She shook her head. Didn’t he understand it was much more than cookies? Every time she saw him, just his smile gave her hope, and hope was a dangerous thing.
“I have plans, Jonah, and they don’t include you.” It was perhaps the hardest thing she had ever said. Given half a chance—a real chance—she would change those plans and live as his wife forever. But this wasn’t a real chance, this was about guilt. How long before his guilt eased up and he was running off to the English world again? How long before he decided he really didn’t love her after all and he wanted to be with April?
Her heart couldn’t take that kind of blow. No, the best thing was to end it now while she still could. Because later she might not be able to let him go.
“What plans?” Annie scoffed. “Your plans are pathetic.”
“Don’t you have something better to do?” Sarah asked.
“Nope.” Annie crossed her arms and rocked back on her heels. Why was she making this so hard for her?
“I for one would love to hear about these plans,” Jonah said.
Sarah stepped toward him, hoping he would retreat toward the door. Of course he stood his ground. “It’s time for you to go home, Jonah.”
He crossed his arms much like Annie had and stared indifferently down at Sarah. “If you don’t tell me about your plans, I’ll ask Annie.”
“And she won’t answer if she knows what’s gut for her.”
Jonah chuckled. “That sounds suspiciously violent for a gut Amish girl.”
“As I meant it to.” She took another step toward him, but still he held fast.
“Can I?” Annie bounced on her toes in excitement. “She’s going to take over being the town oddball from Katie Glick.”
Jonah looked at Sarah, his expression mockingly serious. “Does Katie know this?”
“Annie doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“I do too.” Annie nodded for emphasis.
“There’s only one problem with that,” Jonah mused. “Katie Glick never married.”
“Once we divorce, no one will remember.”
Jonah frowned. At last she had gotten to him. “We can’t divorce. We’re Amish, remember?”
“It won’t matter when you leave to go English.”
His frown deepened. “Who said I was turning English?”
“Everybody.”
“Well, ‘everybody’ is wrong.”
Despite the serious edge in his voice, she didn’t believe him. She knew he might say that now, but ever since Lorie had left, Jonah had been walking with a foot in both worlds.
She would love to be the one who brought him around to his raising, who showed him all the joys of remaining Amish, but she knew that would never come to pass. Too much had happened for her to believe that it ever would.
“I think you should leave, Jonah.” Bravely Sarah grabbed his arm and led him toward the door. She pulled his coat and hat from the pegs off to one side and thrust them into his arms. She didn’t bother waiting for him to put them on before she opened the door and gestured him out into the clear February day.
“But—” he protested.
She shook her head. “Be safe driving home.”
* * *
Suddenly Jonah’s view was filled with the white-painted wood of the Yoders’ front door.
What had just happened?
He looked down at the bouquet of cookies he held. They were supposed to charm Sarah, show her just how much she meant to him. But instead she had ushered him out the door and closed it in his face.
He raised a hand to knock and thought better of it. He hesitated, then set the cookies on the bench just outside the door before loping down the steps toward his tractor.
“Going home so soon?” Otto Yoder, Sarah and Annie’s father, chose that moment to come out of the barn.
Jonah shrugged. “This may not be as easy as I had hoped.” That was putting a nice spin on things.
“Women can be tricky.”
Especially when they had been through as much as Sarah had. But Jonah had foolishly believed that he would tell her that he loved her and she would fall into his arms, kiss him, and not care who was around watching.
It wasn’t her conservative Amish nature that had kept her from his embrace, though. It was Sarah herself.
“She says she’s going to take over for Katie Glick.”
Otto frowned. “Taking in mending?”
“Being the town oddball.” Jonah grimaced, not realizing until he said them out loud how harsh his words really were. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
Otto nodded. “I understand. There’s always one.” He gave a small smile.
“Well, Sarah seems to think Wells Landing needs another.”
“Just give it time,” Otto said.
It was sound advice, but Jonah had wasted so much time already. He didn’t want to take any more time than necessary. He wanted his wife back. He wanted to get started living again. For so long his life had been on hold for others. Now he was waiting for the most important person in his life to realize that she loved him still.
But until then, he was going to take every opportunity he could to show her how much she meant to him. And hopefully with the grace of God, he would break down her defenses and prove his love once and for all.
* * *
“Uh-oh.” Annie moved away from the window and came to sit on the couch next to Sarah.
“What?” She placed the hat she was crocheting on her lap and eyed her sister.
“Nothing.”
Sarah opened her mouth to tell Annie that lying was a sin when a knock sounded on the door.
“Is that Jonah?” she asked in an urgent whisper.
Annie picked up this week’s paper from the coffee table and shrugged.
“It is.” Sarah stood and motioned toward the door. “Go tell him I’m gone.”
“You go tell him.”
Sarah propped her hands on her hips while Annie continued to pretend interest in the paper. The thing was upside down. “Fine.”
She marched over to the door and jerked it open. “I’m not here,” she said, pushing past Jonah and out into the yard. She didn’t even bother to put on a coat. Thankfully the day had turned out fairly warm for the time of year. March was coming up fast, and though the weather could be very unpredictable, a person could count on a few pretty days mixed in with winter’s finale.
“You’re not here?” Jonah asked, obviously confused.
“I’m fixing to not be.” She looked around, but it seemed that her father had taken the tractor somewhere. Maybe she should have listened when he poked his head inside and talked to her mother earlier. But as usual she was mired down so much in her own problems she couldn’t see anything else. Now her only hope of actually leaving was taking the horse and buggy.
So be it.
She marched over to the barn and got her horse, leading the gentle mare out into the sunshine.
The horse danced a little to the side. She was excited to be going out on an odd day.
“What are you doing?” Jonah called.
Like her actions weren’t completely obvious. “Sorry. I have an appointment and I’m late.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She shrugged. “You can believe whatever you want.” She continued to hook her horse to the buggy, her hands shaking wit
h some emotion she couldn’t name.
“Sarah.” Jonah’s voice was soft and cajoling. She loved it and hated it all in the same instant.
“What?” Finally finished with the horse, she stood up straight and propped her hands on her hips. She was hoping to strike a saucy “don’t mess with me” pose, but she was starting to just feel tired.
“Where are you really going?”
The thought hit her in an instant. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Of course! It was the solution they had both been searching before.
“I’m going to talk to the bishop,” she said. “I’m going to ask him to give us a divorce.”
* * *
Jonah’s heart stopped in his chest, then he realized exactly what she was saying and had to stifle his laugh. “He’s not going to grant us a divorce. We’re Amish, remember? Married for life.”
She shook her head and climbed into the buggy. “He might. I’m going to ask. Lots of married Amish are getting divorced now.”
“That’s not true.”
“Maybe not, but it’s the way of the future.”
“No. it’s not.”
She pulled the reins through the front window. “An annulment, then. Why couldn’t we have an annulment?”
“Because we’re Amish.” Honestly, he was starting to feel like one of those birds they had at the pet store in town. One that could only say a couple of sentences, so he said them over and over.
But it seemed Sarah wasn’t listening. She set the buggy in motion and started for the road. Jonah had no choice but to climb on his tractor and follow her.
He thought she would start off, realize how ridiculous she was being, and turn back for home, but the closer they got to the Ebersols’, the more he started to believe that she might just be serious about this.
And his heart sank a little as he watched her turn into the bishop’s driveway.
He shook that feeling away and followed her. She could ask for a divorce or an annulment and other such nonsense, but that didn’t mean the bishop would grant her one.
Cephas Ebersol was a good Amish man.
He was a fair man.
But he’s progressive as well.
Jonah pushed that thought away. Just because the bishop was progressive didn’t mean he would grant Sarah her crazy wish. But being progressive might mean he would see their marriage as the mistake Sarah had convinced herself it was. And if Cephas thought that . . .
He shook his head and pushed the gas pedal a little harder. He had to stop Sarah. He couldn’t let her ask the bishop. Cephas couldn’t say no or yes if she wasn’t permitted to ask. He had to stop her. But how?
He pulled his tractor around her carriage. She shot him an angry look as he passed her, the road so narrow he could almost reach out and take the reins from her hands.
Instead he drove his tractor into the Ebersols’ yard, using it to block the end of the drive. Sarah had to stop and walk past him to get to the bishop’s house.
She stopped her horse, her blue eyes flashing anger and something else he couldn’t identify as she climbed down from the buggy. Was it resignation? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Get out of my way, Jonah Miller. I’m doing this for the both of us.”
He shook his head. “I don’t see how. I don’t want this.”
“Would you stop doing that? You don’t have to pretend.”
“Who says I’m pretending?”
“I do.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
That stopped her in her tracks. “You’re not pretending?”
“No.”
She thought about it a second, then nodded sagely. “I get it. You’re pretending not to be pretending.”
Jonah shook his head. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“You’re giving me a heartache.”
“Then listen to me.”
She closed her eyes and he wondered if she was saying a prayer, probably because after a moment she opened them again. She pulled on the band of her apron, then started around him.
“Where are you going?” He hadn’t been expecting her attack or he might have stopped her from getting past him.
“To talk to the bishop.” She said each word clearly and slowly, as if speaking to a preschooler who hadn’t learned English yet.
“Sarah,” he called and started after her.
She was small and quick and somehow she reached the Ebersols’ front door before he could catch her.
She looked back at him once, then knocked on the door. She opened it, no doubt to slip inside and away from him, but before she could take another step, Cephas Ebersol stepped out onto the porch.
“What’s going on out here?” He looked from one of them to the other, and Jonah had the feeling he had been in his house listening to the ruckus all along. Maybe he had been hoping they could work it out between themselves.
Well, that had been Jonah’s hope as well. So much for that.
“Jonah is trying to stop me from coming in and talking to you.”
“Is this true?” Cephas turned his knowing blue eyes to Jonah.
“Jah. She’s lost her mind and thinks you will grant her a divorce.”
“Or an annulment,” Sarah quickly broke in.
“That’s a mighty big request.”
Sarah nodded, stepping to the side as Jonah made his way onto the porch to stand next to them. “You know as well as I do that this marriage was doomed from the start. At first I thought this was God’s will that the two of us were to be together. I wanted to see that because it’s what I had wanted for so long.”
The bishop nodded. It was no secret in the district that Sarah had had a crush on him for a while now. But he had been too in love with being in love with Lorie to see Sarah for what she was: a beautiful young woman with so much to give. Almost losing her to the flu had shown him that he truly did love her. He just wished that it hadn’t taken him so long to see that.
“And it wasn’t God’s will?” Cephas asked.
“Of course it was,” Jonah said while Sarah replied, “No, it wasn’t.”
She glared at Jonah, then turned her attention back to the bishop. “Why would God want us to get married just to take that baby from us?”
Cephas shook his head. “I don’t pretend to understand all the ways in which the Lord works.”
“God is gut,” Sarah said. “Why would He want us miserable for the rest of our lives?”
“Are you miserable?” Cephas asked.
Jonah swallowed hard as he waited for her to answer.
“Jah.”
She was miserable? “Why?” The word slipped from his lips before he could even think twice about it.
“You’re not?”
With those two words she turned it around on him. “Maybe . . . at first, but I was stupid.”
She shook her head. “No, you were truthful. Neither one of us wanted to be in the situation we found ourselves in, but that’s where we were. Back then you didn’t pretend that our marriage was anything more than it was. Now you’re going around declaring that you want to be my husband, and we both know that’s not true.”
“It’s not?” Jonah asked.
The bishop turned to him. “What is it?” he asked. “Do you want to be her husband or not?”
“I do.”
Cephas nodded. “Gut, because I will not grant you a divorce.”
Sarah opened her mouth, but he interrupted. “Or an annulment.”
“But—” She looked heartbroken at the bishop’s words, but gave a brave nod. Then she turned to him. “I’m sorry, Jonah. I’ve done everything I can. If you want to go be English and marry April, I won’t stop you.”
Just then a car pulled up into the drive. He recognized it as belonging to April. What was she doing here?
They all watched as she parked the car and got out.
Sarah moved down the porch steps and went over to April. Jonah held his breath. �
�I won’t begin to try and understand what God has in His plans for us all, but I won’t keep Jonah from you.”
April’s forehead creased in a confused frown. “Thanks. I guess.”
“The bishop won’t grant me a divorce, but if he goes with you—” Her breath caught and for a moment he thought he heard a sob, but he must have been mistaken. It seemed Sarah was telling the truth when she told him that she had given up on him and that she didn’t love him anymore. And he had been counting on that love to see them through. But he had been too late.
April turned her gaze to Jonah. “I didn’t think Amish got divorces.”
He shrugged. “We don’t.”
“But if he goes English, he can divorce me and marry you.”
“Marry me?” She laughed. “Is she serious?”
“Of course I am,” Sarah said.
Jonah nodded. “I’m afraid she’s lost her mind.”
“Would you stop saying that!”
“It seems like something is definitely amiss,” Cephas added.
“I’m standing right here.” Sarah looked at each of them in turn. “Why are you talking about me like I’m not around?”
“Well,” Jonah started, “you don’t seem to be listening to anything we have to say.”
She took a deep breath, and Jonah knew they had pushed her to the end of her patience. “I’ve done everything I could to help you be happy. I can do no more. What you decide from here is all up to you.” She shook her head and started for her buggy.
“I’m not happy,” Jonah called just before she hoisted herself into the carriage.
Sarah looked to the bishop. “Should I even ask why?”
He nodded. “Might as well.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll bite. Why aren’t you happy?”
Jonah started down the porch steps needing to be closer to her as he said the words. “See, my wife . . .” He shook his head. “She used to love me once upon a time, but I don’t think she does any longer. At least that’s what she says.”
She kept her hands on her carriage as if she was about to pull herself up and leave any second. “Jah?”
He nodded. “That’s right.” He came closer still. Now she was so near he could reach out and touch her sweet face. “And I don’t know what to do to make her love me again.”
Sarah watched him like prey watched a predator. Her eyes were wide and a little fearful, as if she held a hope she knew would take her nowhere. Now was the time for him to show her that he meant what he said. “Why does it mean so much to you?”
