by Amy Lillard
“He’s in the tack room,” one man said. She thought it was Aaron Miller, but she wasn’t positive and she didn’t have time to find out.
“Thank you.” She pushed through the press until she reached the opening of the doorway. There she stopped and took a deep breath, pausing for the first time since she left the house.
She stepped into the room, oblivious to everyone but Thomas.
“Clara Rose?” He stood, looking so handsome in his crisp white shirt and black vest. So fancy.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Now?” His brows rose in surprise, but she knew if she asked him, he would do whatever she needed.
She wrung her hands, her teeth suddenly chattering. “Yes, please.”
He gave a nod and followed her out the door of the tack room, through the barn, and out into the yard. She ignored the looks they got as they pushed through. Now was not the time to stand on ceremony.
A few people milled about outside. The weather was turning colder, but not so much that a coat and hat wouldn’t ward off the chill. Still, her teeth chattered like crazy.
“Are you cold?” Thomas asked. He took off his jacket and slid it around her shoulders. It was warm and smelled like him, like sandalwood and leather. An immediate peace stole over her.
“Thank you,” she said, pulling it a little closer around her. Not for extra warmth but for the sensation of being completely surrounded by Thomas. She needed that. She needed to know that he was there for her, that he would protect her and care for her always.
“Are you crying?”
Was she?
He stepped forward and wiped a tear from her cheek. “What’s wrong, my love?”
His love? She closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings in the situation. But her head swam and she opened them once again.
“It’s Tater,” she blurted, ashamed that she had lied to this man, this good and honest man who deserved better than he had gotten from her.
A frown puckered his brow. “What about Tater?”
“He’s not staying with Mamm, after we’re”—she swallowed hard—“married.” Why did she have such a hard time saying that word? Wasn’t that what she wanted? Wasn’t that what she had always wanted?
But it wasn’t just marriage, not anymore. She had spent her entire engagement more in love with the idea of being married than she was in love with her fiancé.
Shame filled her.
“This isn’t about Tater.” Thomas took a step back. “Are you going to tell me what’s really on your mind?”
Could she tell him? Movement flashed out of the corner of her eye, and she turned, distracted by the motion.
Obie glanced toward the two of them as he stalked across the yard to his waiting tractor. It was the only one amid the lines of shiny black buggies. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?
“I see.” Thomas pressed his lips into a thin line.
Clara Rose shook her head. “It’s not what you think.” She took a step toward him, grasping his sleeve to keep him from moving farther away.
“I only know what you tell me, Clara Rose.”
Now was the time. She could keep quiet no longer. “Obie told me that he loved me and asked me to marry him.”
“When? Today?”
She nodded.
“And you told him . . . ?”
“I told him that I was marrying you.”
“What about love?”
“Of course, I love him. He’s my best friend.”
“And me?” Thomas asked. “Do you love me?”
“You are the most wonderful man I have ever met, and I will be the best wife to you that I can be.”
“That didn’t exactly answer my question.”
“Thomas, I—”
“Or maybe it did.”
Chapter Nine
Clara Rose hated the clouds that dimmed Thomas’s eyes. “I made my promises and I intend to keep them.”
He shook his head. “What are you saying?”
“That we have two hundred guests who came to see us get married. I suppose we should stop standing around and get to it.”
He studied her for a moment, then gave a stiff nod. Behind him, Obie started his tractor.
The bottom dropped out of Clara Rose’s heart. This was the right thing to do. Thomas was a good man, the best. She couldn’t drop everything and marry Obie. It wasn’t feasible. She couldn’t embarrass Thomas that way. She couldn’t bring that shame upon her family.
This was it. The right thing to do.
“Go on back in the house. I’ll be there in a bit.”
Clara Rose gave a quick nod, thankful that her tears had finally stopped. Thankful that God had given her a man like Thomas. Theirs would be a good marriage.
She slipped his jacket from around her shoulders and made her way back inside.
* * *
Somehow she made it through the throng of guests downstairs and back up to her room. She made a quick stop in the bathroom to wet a rag with cold water. If she was lucky, she would have just enough time for the cool cloth to work its magic on her tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes.
Her bridesmaids were gone, most likely waiting in the kitchen for their cue to take their place at the front of the room.
That was okay with Clara Rose. She used the time alone to pray that she was doing the right thing by them all. She wiped the dust from her shoes and from the hem of her dress. Then took one last look in the mirror and made her way back downstairs.
A hush fell over the room as she entered. All eyes were trained on her. She looked up and caught Thomas’s gaze. He gave an encouraging smile.
She tried to return it but settled for a small nod instead. She joined her bridesmaids on the front bench, willing her heart to slow to a normal pace.
Once everyone was seated, Bishop Ebersol stepped forward to start the service.
“Ahem.” Thomas stood and went to the front of the room.
This wasn’t part of the ceremony. And from the look in the bishop’s face, he had no idea what was going on either.
“Friends and family, I want to thank you all for coming here today. We have everything ready to have a wedding—food, cake, paper plates.”
Everyone laughed, but Clara Rose’s heart tripped in her chest as he continued. “But we are missing one very important item. A groom.”
Gasps went up all around.
Unable to stop herself, Clara Rose jumped to her feet.
Thomas motioned her over to stand next to him. On shaking legs, she approached him and turned to look out over the sea of shocked faces.
“We have a bride,” he continued, slipping his arm around her waist but not pulling her any closer. “But not a groom. Or maybe I should say we don’t have the right groom. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still enjoy ourselves and the fact that we are here together. In a few minutes, we will cut the cake and serve the food, but for now I have a bit of unfinished business.”
“Would you like to explain to me what’s going on?” Bishop Ebersol asked. His dark blue eyes searched their faces, but Clara Rose had nothing to say. She was just as confused as he was.
“I found out something very important this morning.”
The bishop nodded. “Go on.”
“I found out that my bride is in love with someone else. And that this other person loves her in return.”
“I see,” the bishop said.
Clara Rose tried to wet her lips, but her mouth was so dry her tongue was sticking to her teeth. Where was he going with this?
“Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?” Nancy Yutzy came to stand behind Clara Rose. Immediately, she had the love and support of her mother, and she relaxed. But only a little.
“I’d like to know the answer to that myself.” Jason and Margaret Lapp came to stand beside their son.
The bishop looked back to Thomas. “We’re waiting.”
“It’s simple, really. Clara Rose loves someone else
, and I won’t stand in the way of her happiness.”
Tears stung her eyes.
“What?” Margaret all but shrieked the one word. “I told you she wasn’t the right girl for you, Thomas.”
Thomas opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and closed it instead.
“There’s nothing wrong with my daughter,” Mamm huffed, hands on her hips.
“I’ll have you know—”
Clara Rose stepped between everyone and held up her hands. “Please, stop. Enough is enough. This is between me and Thomas.”
“She’s right.” Thomas took her arm to lead her away. The bishop followed. Clara Rose figured he had the right to hear the truth seeing as he had had blessed their marriage months ago. But their parents followed.
“We should at least know what’s happened here,” Mamm said.
“Fine,” Thomas said. “But everyone has to keep their feelings in check. This is nothing to get upset over.”
His mother opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again after a stern look from Thomas.
“I found out today something I think I have known all along but was too blind to see.”
“And that was?” the bishop prompted.
“That Clara Rose and Obie Brenneman are in love with each other. And as much as I know in my heart of hearts that she would be the best wife a man could ask for, I can’t stand in the way of true love.” He turned to Clara Rose and took her hands into his own. Her fingers trembled in his sure grasp. “I release you from your promise to me.”
“Thomas.” She knew it was forward, but she pulled him close and wrapped him in a big hug. “Thank you. Thank you so very much.”
“Just go and be happy,” he said, pulling away from her to run one hand over the side of her face. “And promise me that the two of you will always love each other.”
“I promise,” she said. And it was one promise she knew she would be able to keep.
* * *
A din of barking welcomed her as she pulled her grandmother’s buggy in front of the Brenneman house. Her grandmother was right—the ex-racehorse, Daisy Lane, could still fly like the wind.
She patted the horse on the rump and unhitched her from the rig. She wasn’t sure where Obie was, but she knew she needed to get the horse out of the wind before she went in search of him. Once Daisy Lane was in the barn, she went back to the house.
She peered in the window, but the house had that empty look, as if no one was home. Where had they all gone on a Thursday morning? Most likely to their various jobs around town, but she had seen Obie at the wedding and she felt he had to be close.
Then she remembered. His favorite place. Millers’ pond.
She knew it was taking a chance that he would actually be there, but that was exactly what this was about: taking chances.
She hitched Daisy Lane back to the buggy, then off she went, so grateful to have such a swift horse on her side. Daisy Lane tossed her head into the wind as Clara Rose pushed her faster and faster. They reached Millers’ pond in record time.
She hopped down from the buggy, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw Obie’s tractor parked off to one side. At least she had found him. That had to count for something.
One down, two to go, as they say.
She tethered her horse, then ducked under the fence, only then realizing that she wasn’t wearing a coat. Not even her sweater. Up until now, she hadn’t needed the warmth, with adrenaline pushing her. But now that she had found him, a chill had set in. And it didn’t have as much to do with the weather as it did her own doubts. She had flown here on the wings of a racehorse, but her steps slowed as she neared the crop of trees.
What if he told her it was too late? That she’d had her chance. What if he spurned her as she had him earlier?
Only one way to find out. She clomped through the trees and into the clearing. Just as she’d known he would be, he was skipping rocks along the water’s surface.
“Hello, Mrs. Lapp.”
She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself, that chill setting in once again. “Don’t call me that.”
He shrugged. “How’d you find me?”
“I’m your best friend, remember? You love this place.”
He gave a quick nod, then skimmed another rock across the water. “So you are, so I do.”
“I know you’re upset,” she started, but then didn’t know how to finish. But I love you? They had already covered that. But I’m sorry. That had been talked about as well. There was only one thing left to say. “I didn’t marry Thomas.”
He stopped and turned to face her, his gaze raking over her from head to toe. She still wore her wedding dress, white cape, and apron, though they now looked a fright. And she was certain her prayer kapp had a big snag in it where she hadn’t been careful enough making her way through the trees.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again with another shake of his head. “I want to say something mean and spiteful, but I can’t.”
“Why would you want to say something like that?”
He shot her a look.
“Oh. Right.” She supposed she deserved it. “You can say anything you want to me, as long as you forgive me and tell me again that you love me.”
He walked from the water’s edge over to the fallen tree trunk and flopped down as if all the energy had been drained from his body. “Do you think my feelings have changed in the last two hours?”
“I don’t know.” She took the necessary steps to sit down next to him on the log. “I never meant to hurt you, but what kind of person would I be if I didn’t go through with my promise to marry Thomas? If I had thrown him over for you, how could you ever trust me?”
“I trust you with my life forever and always.” He clasped her hand in his, and a thrill shot through her.
“How was I supposed to know that?”
He gave her a look.
She laughed.
“But I’m glad you held on to what you believe.” He sat with her in silence for a moment, just holding her hand in his. “Why aren’t you marrying Thomas?”
“He said he didn’t want to stand in the way of our true love and released me from the promise.”
“I suppose now you want me to marry you.”
“It would be nice.”
“Nice?” He released her hand, his expression dark.
“Okay, maybe a little more than nice.”
“How about so fantastic no one will ever believe us?”
Clara Rose smiled. “That works too.”
He leaned in and kissed her, his lips warm, his love clear. How had she not seen it all along? “I love you, Clara Rose Yutzy,” he said once he lifted his head.
“I love you, too.”
“And tomorrow we go talk to the bishop. I want to get married this wedding season.”
She nodded. “We’ve known each other long enough, I’m sure the bishop would make an exception and approve the union.”
He swooped in to kiss her again. Her head swam with the thrill of it all. Married this year. And to her best friend. She could only hope that he never stopped kissing her like he did in that moment.
He pulled away.
She sighed.
“Just one more thing, and this is not negotiable. We name our first son Thomas.”
“That sounds like a fine idea,” she said and reached up to kiss him again.
MORE THAN A PROMISE
Chapter One
Finally. The crowd was starting to thin. Mariana had been beginning to believe that they might not ever go home. Between the day she was having and the dull throb starting at the base of her skull, it was past time for a little quiet.
Not that funerals were particularly loud. However, they did have a stress level that couldn’t be matched. Even Amish ones.
Mariana shot her bravest smile to her in-laws as they stood by the front door preparing to leave. There were no words left that needed to be said. Leroy was gone. After a long battle wi
th cancer, he was finally gone.
“I’m coming by tomorrow to check on you.”
Mariana swung around to find Verna Yutzy standing there. She wanted to tell Verna not to come by. That she would be okay. That she wouldn’t need help for a while. But none of that was true, and a person just didn’t tell Verna what to do.
“Thank you.” Mariana squeezed Verna’s hand. “I appreciate that.”
The truth was she was going to need more and more help as the months went on. More than she had ever dreamed.
Verna squeezed right back, then released Mariana’s hand and moved away.
Only a few more of the funeral-goers milled around the living room. Just a little bit ago the place had been crowded with people all eating cold roast beef, mashed potatoes, rolls, and prunes and discussing what a great man Leroy was and how it was God’s will for him to go at such a young age.
He had been a great man. Until the tumor eating at his brain altered him beyond recognition. Oh, his outside had still looked the same, while his insides were all twisted up, his mind not the same as it had been before. There’d been a time, not so long ago, when he still had his wits about him. When he’d still loved her in his own way. And that night when he’d pulled her close—
“Now, don’t you go worrying about anything,” Eileen said. Of perhaps all the people around, Eileen was Mariana’s best friend. But once Leroy had gotten sick, they’d started to drift apart, only seeing each other at the quilting circle meetings every Tuesday afternoon and occasionally at church. “I’ve already got with the buddy bunch. We’re working out a schedule. One of us will stop by each day to make sure you’re doing okay.”
Mariana nodded even as tears stung at the back of her eyes. Not tears of sadness so much as tears of joy. She didn’t know what she would do without these good people of Wells Landing, Oklahoma. She had moved down soon after she and Leroy had gotten married. But that had been almost fifteen years ago. Now she couldn’t imagine calling any other place home.
“Eileen,” she started in protest, “you’ve got so much to do yourself right now.”
Eileen shook her head. “Not anything as important as making sure you’re okay.”
