Amish Brides

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  The three talked over themselves. That alone was enough to confirm their guilt.

  Reba studied each of their tiny faces. Only Hope’s gave her away. She chewed on her lower lip, her eyes darting from Constance to Lilly Ruth and back again.

  “Hope?”

  “I didn’t want to,” Hope cried. “They made me. I told them it was a bad idea.”

  “Thanks a lot, Hope,” Constance said. “You ruined everything.”

  The two girls started arguing, talking over each other as they bickered.

  “Enough!” Reba said. The girls fell quiet, their chins down as if they were embarrassed to meet her gaze. “I appreciate your attention,” Reba said. “Really, I do. But it’s not necessary.”

  “We just want you to be happy,” Lilly Ruth said. “Like Dat.”

  Was that how people saw her? Unhappy because she didn’t have a husband?

  She shook her head. “I have the three best nieces in the entire world,” she said. “How can I not be happy?”

  Constance raised her gaze, her big eyes filled with tears. “And you’re not mad?”

  She was furious, but how could she tell that to an eight-year-old and her younger sisters, who wanted to see her happy? Who could find fault with that? “Of course not,” she said. “I love you all very much. But from here on out, why don’t you leave the matchmaking up to God?”

  Three smiles spread across three sweet faces. The girls threw their arms around her, hugging her close and nearly knocking her backward. Reba wrapped one arm around them and braced one against the tabletop to keep from toppling over.

  “We love you, too, Aenti.”

  “And we promise,” Constance added. “No more matchmaking.”

  * * *

  “So, Abel,” Constance said, just after the last bite of supper. “Was that the best chicken and noodles you’ve ever eaten?”

  He sat back in his chair as the young girl picked up his empty plate. “It was very good, jah.”

  “The best?” she pressed.

  “Perhaps.” He patted his full belly. The chicken and noodles were good, though he was a little confused as to why Constance would demand that he declare them the best.

  “But you did enjoy them, jah?” Hope asked.

  “Very much,” he said, wondering which one of the girls actually made the chicken and noodles.

  “Aenti Reba made them, you know,” Lilly Ruth added.

  From across the table, Reba cleared her throat.

  All three girls turned in her direction. Her stern look added to Abel’s confusion, but he had a feeling this was something of a family issue.

  “Go on,” Reba said. “Take the dishes to the sink.”

  The girls did as she asked, then Reba stood to follow behind them, he was sure. Abel was on his feet in a heartbeat. “Allow me to help them tonight.”

  Reba shook her head. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I’m sure you’re tired after being on your ankle all day. It’s the least I can do.”

  “What do you think? That if you do the dishes I’ll forgive you?”

  “It’s worth a shot.”

  “Really. It’s not necessary,” Reba said.

  Jess pushed back from the table and stood. “How about the men clean up tonight?”

  From the kitchen area the girls cheered.

  “Only if you let me give them their bath,” Reba countered.

  Abel watched the play between brother and sister with great interest. It was obvious they loved each other very much, but Abel had a feeling they bickered as much as they got along. He wondered if it had been that way their whole lives or if this was something that started in adulthood. Being an only child, he’d never had such a relationship. But he loved to watch the interactions with his cousins almost as much as he enjoyed watching Reba and Jess.

  Jess grinned. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said. “It’s hair-washing night.”

  Reba’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Oh, you’ll pay for that one, brother,” she said. “Just when you least expect it.” She turned toward the girls. “Come on. Upstairs with you all.”

  The three girls shuffled toward the staircase.

  “What about clearing the table?” Jess asked.

  Reba shot him a sly grin. “That’s part of the cleanup.”

  Jess opened his mouth to protest.

  “Hup.” Reba shook her head. “No excuses. It’s hair-washing night.” She waved the girls up the stairs.

  Jess propped his hands on his hips as he watched his sister disappear. He looked back to the mess on the table and over to Abel.

  Abel shrugged. “Is she always like this?”

  Jess shook his head. “No. Sometimes she’s worse.”

  Abel laughed. She was a mess, that was for sure. But there was something he enjoyed about sassy Reba Schmucker. He just couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. The clothes she wore were too bright and she had a tendency to speak her mind. He was certain those traits would get old after a while. So why did she feel the need to constantly prove herself? He supposed with five brothers in the house, that might be the root of some of her behavior, but it was almost as if she dared the world to find fault with her. Or maybe she just liked to push the system.

  Abel banished the thoughts about Reba from his mind and turned to help Jess clear the table. Once all the condiments were put away and the dishes stacked next to the sink, Jess handed Abel a towel. “I’ll wash; you dry?”

  Abel nodded, though he knew the task would allow way too much time to think about Reba.

  * * *

  “You’re not mad, right, Aenti Reba?”

  “Of course not,” Reba told Lilly Ruth. How could she stay mad at these precious girls?

  She had put them all in the tub, let the older girls wash themselves, and somehow managed to get Lilly Ruth clean herself, even as she fought the big plastic boot on her ankle. Clean, smelling good, and all dressed in their pajamas, the three girls stood before the mirror. Hair-washing day was always a big deal. One time they had tried to rotate and wash each girl’s hair a different night, but it seemed as if somehow the rhythm always got off and someone’s hair never got washed. Shampooing them all at the same time seemed to be the best plan, even though it took way longer to do it this way.

  She sprayed each girl’s hair with detangler, then took up a comb and began with Lilly Ruth.

  “I think I can do mine tonight,” Constance said. She said this every night, and Reba let her try every night. And every night Reba ended up having to comb through the tangles. It was part of the ritual.

  Constance struggled with her hair as Reba went on to comb through Hope’s. She sent the two girls out of the bathroom and started to help Constance. It didn’t help that Constance’s hair had a little bit of curl and tended to flip this way and that and tangled at the slightest provocation.

  “Ow,” Constance said.

  “Sorry,” Reba murmured. She should’ve done Constance’s hair first, even though Lilly Ruth ran out of patience way before her sisters were done. Maybe then Reba wouldn’t be so tired or so ready to go sit down.

  Finally, she managed to get most of the tangles out of Constance’s hair. She parted it down the middle and was giving her one last comb-through when she noticed something white buried in the strands. Was that . . . ?

  “Constance, I thought you washed your hair.”

  “I did.”

  “Then what’s in it?” Reba tried to grab the pieces of white, only to have them disintegrate between her fingers like wet chalk. Or plaster.

  “How did you get white . . .” She looked over Constance’s shoulder and met her gaze in the mirror. “Did you tear up Abel’s repair?”

  Constance’s blush said it all. “I did it for you.”

  Reba sucked in a deep breath. She wasn’t even sure where to begin with it all. She flipped the lid down on the toilet and sat, pulling Constance into the V between her knees. She brushed her hair back from her face. �
��I love that you tried to help me,” Reba said. “But Abel worked very hard on that repair and he had to come fix it again. You made extra work for him.”

  Constance ducked her head and sniffed.

  Reba lifted her chin with one finger. “I think you owe him an apology.”

  Constance nodded.

  “And the other girls?”

  Constance shook her head. “They were there, but it was all my idea. I was just trying to help.”

  As badly as she wanted to be angry, Reba just couldn’t manage the emotion. Everyone should be loved by someone as much as these girls loved the people around them. She was well and truly blessed.

  “I still think you should take them with you,” Reba said.

  Constance nodded again. “Right now?”

  Reba nodded. “No time like now.”

  * * *

  Abel looked out over the cornfield and across the road to the beautiful stars dotting the night sky. There was a good reason why the town was named Paradise. It might not be Paradise for everyone, but he could see the relation. Beautiful, peaceful, a new home. It was just what he needed.

  The door behind him opened. He turned as Reba and the three girls came out onto the porch. They stood next to him.

  Reba cleared her throat. “Abel, the girls have something they need to say.”

  Constance sniffed but took a step forward. “I hope you’re not angry.”

  He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he simply waited for her to continue.

  “I tore up your repair so you would have to come back and fix it.” Twin tears escaped her big gray eyes and slid down her cheeks.

  Her sisters stood one on each side of her, their heads bowed as if praying for their sister to have strength.

  “Why . . . why would you do that?” He kept his voice low and soft. He’d never had to deal with such a situation, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  “We wanted you to spend more time with Reba.”

  “More time with Reba?” He looked up and caught Reba’s gaze. She gave a small nod. “Oh.”

  “Please forgive us,” Lilly Ruth added.

  “It wasn’t even my idea,” Hope added.

  “Hope,” Reba warned.

  “I mean, I’m sorry,” Hope backpedaled.

  “I know you shouldn’t have had to fix it twice,” Constance said.

  Abel gave a quick nod. That was true. But the day he’d spent at the schoolhouse had been one of the best ones he’d had in a long time, maybe since Abigail chose another.

  “Do you forgive us?” Lilly Ruth asked.

  Abel cleared his throat. Somehow emotion had settled there, clogging it and making it hard to talk. “Of course,” he said. “Of course, I forgive you.”

  Suddenly he was bombarded with hugs. Three sets of little arms wrapped themselves around him. Tears wet the sides of his shirt as they held him close. Murmurs of we’re sorry and thank you were threaded throughout, and it was all Abel could do to keep his own tears at bay. When had he turned into such a softy? Then again, it would take a hard heart to deny these girls anything.

  “Go on to bed now,” Reba said.

  The girls released him and, with watery smiles, said good night and headed back into the house.

  “That was very gracious of you,” Reba said.

  Grace had nothing to do with it. “They are precious little girls.”

  Reba laughed. “They’re a mess. Each one of them.”

  Abel chuckled. There was no arguing with that. “But why would they tear up the repair so I would come back?” He had a feeling, but he wanted to hear her say it.

  “Last year they did a little matchmaking between their teacher and Jess.”

  “Bernice?” Abel asked.

  “The very same.”

  “And what does this have to do with me?” he asked.

  Reba gave a small cough. “It seems they thought you and I might make a good pair.”

  “So they were matchmaking?”

  Reba laughed, the sound a bit choked and mostly humorless. “I know, right? But yes, they consider themselves accomplished matchmakers since their dat and their teacher are getting married in two weeks.”

  Abel shook his head. “So they did all this to get the two of us to fall in love?”

  Reba clasped her hands in front of her. She spread them to each side, then clasped them again as if she had no idea what to do with her own hands. “I’m afraid so.”

  Abel shifted his weight to one leg. “I see.” He seemed to think about it a moment. “And would that be so bad?”

  Those were evidently not the words Reba expected to hear. A frown marred her brow as she eyed him across the darkened porch. “Would what be so bad?”

  “Falling in love with me.”

  Chapter 5

  Reba’s good leg nearly gave out from underneath her. “What—what?”

  “Would that be so bad?” he asked again.

  Jah, that was what she was afraid he said. “Define bad.”

  He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Something in his expression tugged at her heart. She took a step closer and laid one hand on his arm as he turned back to stare at the nighttime sky.

  “No,” she finally admitted. “It wouldn’t be bad at all. But . . .”

  He shifted to face her once again. “But what?”

  “I’m not in the market for a husband.” She’d given up that dream a long time ago.

  He gave a quick nod. “What about a friend?”

  “I beg your pardon?” She was really going to have to try harder to keep up with this conversation, but she did not expect the things he was saying.

  “How about a friend? Could we be friends?”

  “Friends?” Keep up, Reba!

  “I’m really not in the market for a wife.”

  He wasn’t? “You’re not?”

  “But I could use a friend.”

  Reba gave her head a small shake to clear her thoughts. It didn’t help.

  “I know . . . I mean, I know you’re upset with me because of your ankle, and you have every right to be mad. I am truly sorry.”

  “And you want to be my friend?”

  “Jah. Of course.”

  Friends. That sounded safe enough. “Okay. We can be friends.”

  He flashed her a smile, which included those dastardly dimples. But this time she was immune to them. They were friendly dimples, not nearly as dastardly as when he had sent them her way earlier. And now that all the misunderstanding surrounding Constance, Hope, and Lilly Ruth’s matchmaking attempts was cleared up, being friends sounded like a fine idea.

  “So what are you doing Saturday?” Abel asked.

  “Saturday?” Great. She had resorted back to repeating everything he said.

  Abel nodded. “I need to find a horse. The one I have is not reliable.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “I’d like somebody to give me a second opinion. And since my horse-picking-out skills are lacking these days . . .”

  “Saturday. Yes, I think I can swing that.”

  “Good.” His smile deepened, along with those not-so-dastardly dimples. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  * * *

  The rest of the week went by like a breeze. If like a breeze included being in a hard plastic boot for a broken ankle, but Reba was becoming used to lugging the apparatus around. Now if the break would just stop itching.

  Abel pulled up in front of her parents’ house just after nine.

  Reba was watching out the window, but trying not to let him see. She wouldn’t want him to think she was anxious to go with him to look for horses. After all, it wasn’t a date. They were just friends. But she needed to tell her heart that. It was flip-flopping in her chest like she had a real date or something.

  “Mamm,” she called. “I’m going now.”

  Her mamm replied from another part of the house, and Reba hobbled out to the waiting carriage.

  Abel met her on the passe
nger’s side of the buggy. “Do you need help getting in?”

  As much as she would have liked to tell him no, the truth was she did need help. That was the hardest part of having a broken ankle. She had to rely on others for help. That didn’t set right with her. Not one bit.

  “Jah, if you don’t mind, please.”

  “Not at all.”

  The trickiest part was stepping up onto the running board and into the buggy. Mainly because her booted foot wasn’t stable. Abel had one hand on her waist and the other on her arm, holding her steady as she balanced her weight to climb in. He was strong and sure, and she knew she wasn’t about to fall, so why did her heart flutter in her chest as if she were about to go down any minute? Maybe because she didn’t know him very well. He could actually turn her loose and walk away. Though she had no doubt he would never do that.

  She willed her heart back to its normal rhythm as he walked around the carriage and got in the other side.

  “So, where are we going?” That was a safe enough question, right?

  Abel clicked the horse into motion, the sway of the carriage bumping her against him as they rode along. “There’s an auction today over in Bird-in-Hand. I thought we would start there.”

  She gave a quick nod. “So, whose horse is that?”

  “My cousin’s.”

  “I didn’t realize you had family here.”

  He gave a small shrug. “I have family all over.”

  “Any brothers and sisters?” It wasn’t like she was prying. Friends had to know stuff about one another, didn’t they?

  He shook his head. “I’m an only child. But I’ve got a lot of cousins.”

  She couldn’t imagine what it was like to be an only child. Their house had always been full of love and noise, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. True, her brothers were more annoying than most, but they made life interesting, if nothing else.

  “And that’s why you moved here? Because of your cousin?”

  He kept his eyes trained on the road as he answered. “Jah.”

  Now, why did she have the feeling he wasn’t telling her the whole truth?

  “Is that the only reason?” And why was she bound and determined to find out the rest of the story?

  “People have all kinds of reasons for doing all kinds of things,” he said. “One reason is as good as any.”