The Buggy Shop (Hollybrook Amish Romance)

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The Buggy Shop (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 13

by Brenda Maxfield


  “I’ll take care of the horse if you want to go on in,” he said. “I’ll bring your suitcase up when I come.”

  “I can take it up.”

  “Nee. It’s heavy. I’ll bring it.”

  “All right.”

  “The door’s unlocked.”

  He leaned over her and opened her buggy door. She stiffened momentarily at his closeness, but he moved away just as quickly to get out himself. She climbed down and stood for a moment, gazing at the buggy shop. He’d gotten his new sign.

  Ethan’s Buggy Shop.

  The sign looked good. Professional-looking. She wondered who’d made it for him. Ethan’s Buggy Shop. Her home now. She inhaled deeply and went into the shop and up the staircase on the right. She opened the door at the top and walked into the living quarters. She glanced around at the paint job she had helped with. She noted the furniture given to Ethan to give him a start there in Hollybrook.

  He’d rearranged the pieces since she’d been up there last. It looked good. There were a few changes she might make, but nothing major. He had good taste. She went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

  This was her kitchen now. She would cook thousands of meals here in the next years. She’d raise her child here. Hers and Uriah’s. She grimaced and put a hand over her stomach.

  “Nee,” she whispered, looking down at her stomach. “You’re Ethan’s boppli now. He’ll be a right fine dat to you.”

  And a good husband to her. Would she be a good wife? She filled a glass with water and drank it. Yes, she would. She bit the corner of her lip. Why had she reacted when Ethan had leaned over her to open her door? She’d nearly jerked back from him. It was absurd. He was appealing. She liked him.

  So, what was that about?

  This was their wedding night, and she wasn’t stupid. Or inexperienced. She cringed at the thought. Ethan was taking on a lot, and she had to make sure he never regretted it.

  But would she? Would she regret it?

  No. She wouldn’t even entertain the idea.

  She heard the door open. He’d finished with the horse then. She set down her glass and walked back to the front room. He was holding her suitcase.

  “I’ll put it in the … bedroom,” he told her.

  “Thank you.”

  He moved toward the bedrooms, and she followed him. He paused at the door to the main bedroom and looked at her. “Do you want me to put it in here, or in the other one?”

  His eye twitched slightly, and she knew he was nervous. There was more to his question… He wasn’t just asking which bedroom to put her things in—he was asking how she planned to start their marriage. Would she sleep beside him, or would they both sleep alone?

  “In there,” she said, nodding toward the main bedroom.

  Something flickered in his eyes, but he turned away quickly. He walked into the room and set the suitcase on the bed. “Do you want to unpack?”

  She glanced around. There were some empty pegs along the wall to the side of the door. She knew in a flash that he’d emptied them for her. He’d hoped she would stay with him, but then, why wouldn’t he? He’d married her, hadn’t he?

  “I’ve cleared out the top two drawers for you,” he went on.

  The air was heavy in the room, solemn. Gritty. Unsure. She shivered, hating it. She smiled and gave a light laugh.

  “I see,” she said, putting on her teasing voice.

  His brows raised.

  “Pretty confident, weren’t you?” she continued. She laughed—a genuine laugh this time, as she saw the pleasure on his face. The atmosphere shifted, and she stepped closer to him. “I like that in a man,” she said softly. “Confidence.”

  His face flushed and he stared into her eyes, probing, testing the waters. She could tell.

  Then he reached out and pulled her to him, pressing her against him. “It’s going to be all right,” he murmured. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “Jah,” she said against his wedding jacket. “It is.”

  And then, all thoughts of Uriah went out of her head.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ethan didn’t move a muscle. He was afraid that if he did, Beulah would awaken. He didn’t want her to wake up, he wanted her to sleep and sleep so he could continue watching her. In the early morning light, he watched her chest rise up and down. Watched her face, so peaceful and so beautiful. Saw how her lashes lay against her cheeks, so long and thick. He could hardly breathe for his love for her. It tightened his chest until he thought he might burst with it.

  Beulah, Beulah, Beulah, he thought. I love you.

  He reveled in the truth of it. Reveled that he was so blessed as to be lying beside her. She was his. He was hers. He would never be alone again.

  Can you love me? he wondered, forcing himself to keep his hands at his sides. Will you love me?

  In time. In time. In time.

  They had just begun.

  She stirred and her eyes fluttered opened. “Ach,” she moaned, rubbing her eyes. “Ethan, you startled me.”

  “Not used to waking up next to someone?” he asked lightly.

  She grinned. “Not unless it’s my sister.”

  He nodded. “I see.”

  “You aren’t up yet?” she looked toward the window where the light was flickering through the white curtains. “Ach, I need to be up fixing breakfast.”

  “It’s the day after your wedding,” he told her. “You can be late.”

  She stretched. “I s’pose you’re right at that.”

  He gazed into her eyes. “How are you feeling this morning?” he couldn’t help but ask.

  “Ethan?”

  “Jah?”

  “Please don’t keep asking me that. I’m fine. I’m always fine. I don’t want to have to reassure you of it.”

  He frowned. Couldn’t he ask his own wife how she was doing?

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just that…” She hesitated.

  “Just what?” he prompted.

  “I don’t want you always checking on me,” she said. “It makes me feel… It makes me feel like something is always wrong. And I don’t want it to be.”

  He didn’t fully understand what she meant, but he would honor her wishes. “All right.”

  She reached over and touched his cheek, and he wanted to snatch her into his arms, but he lay still. She caressed his skin with her soft fingers and then shifted in bed and kissed him lightly on the mouth.

  “Gut morning,” she said, as if starting over.

  And then he did grab her to him. “Gut morning,” he whispered into her long, tangled hair—the very hair his hands had gotten lost in the night before.

  * * *

  Beulah made a huge breakfast for Ethan that morning. She used up nearly all of his supplies, starting a list to take with her to the Feed & Supply later that day. She could use his pony cart to go, or perhaps he would take her in his buggy. But then, he probably wouldn’t want to leave his shop unmanned.

  A shop-keeper’s wife. She’d never imagined herself as one. But she was going to like it. They wouldn’t be so dependent on the weather for their livelihood, and that was a good thing.

  “I’m going to get fat,” Ethan said after they ate. “It was tasty, Beulah.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t cook as well as my sister, but I’m passable.”

  He chuckled. “More than passable. And you have to remember, I’ve been cooking for myself for more years than I want to count.”

  “Ach, Ethan, you’re not so old.”

  He laughed again. “Nee, I s’pose I’m not.” He took her hand in his. “I was thinking that maybe you might want to pick up some more supplies.”

  “I agree.”

  “Would you like me to drive you?”

  “I don’t want to take you from your work.”

  “I wouldn’t mind.”

  She considered this but decided she should go alone. She wasn’t ready to answer all the questions she would
get if they went in together to buy household supplies and groceries.

  “I think I’ll go alone,” she said.

  “You can charge everything to my account. The Troyers started one for me a few weeks ago.”

  Hmm. In that case, Eliza Troyer would have to know they were married. Beulah blew out her breath. Still, that was better than having to explain it to everyone. She stood to begin clearing the table. “So, you got enough?”

  He took her hand again and pulled her to his lap. “I got enough.”

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Pulling wives onto laps wasn’t something she’d ever seen done, but then, they were in the privacy of their own home. Ethan nuzzled her neck. Ach, but he was affectionate. He was surprising her more and more.

  She liked it.

  He loosened his hold on her. “I s’pose I should get down to the shop.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I s’pose you should.”

  He gave her a mischievous grin. “But maybe not right away.”

  * * *

  Ethan whistled while he worked that morning. Everything he did pleased him. Working on Jed’s buggy wheel, going over his ledger, sweeping out the shop—everything. Life fairly glowed with happiness. When he took a breath between whistling hymns, he smiled. Smiled at his ledger book, smiled at the buggy he had for sale, smiled at the very walls of his shop.

  He was crazy in love with Beulah. Watching her sleep that morning had been so sweet. And the way her eyes had flickered open, and how she’d looked at him—as if surprised he was there. But then, he’d seen pleasure in her eyes. Warmth.

  Could it be she already loved him—at least, a little? How he hoped it was so. When he’d decided on this wild plan to marry her so quick-like, he’d thought that in time, they would grow to love each other. But now, feeling the surge of emotion rushing through every cell in his body, he realized he didn’t want to wait for that nebulous “sometime” in the future. He wanted her to love him back right then.

  Go easy, he mumbled to himself. Give her time.

  He would. Of course, he would. But the eagerness in his heart—the excitement he felt at being her husband—was overwhelming.

  “Please love me, Beulah,” he said softly into the air.

  He glanced at the wind-up clock sitting on his desk in the shop. She’d left a little more than an hour ago to the Feed & Supply. Perhaps she was already on her way home. She’d assured him she could handle his horse and cart, but what if Button acted up? What if Beulah had trouble on the road? What if an Englisch car startled Button and she grew hard to handle? What if Beulah hit the grooves in the asphalt wrong, and the cart tipped?

  He grimaced. Good grief. That was hardly going to happen now, was it?

  But still, he’d feel better when she pulled back into his lot. He got up from his desk and started pacing the shop. He felt at loose ends now, his euphoria replaced with worry. He went to the front of his shop and stood in the wide-open doors. It was a pleasant day, sunny and warm. He could hear the birds singing to each other from one of the trees on the side of his parking lot. He glanced around, wondering if Beulah might be interested in arranging some flower pots at the front of the store.

  He smiled and took a deep breath. She should be turning in any moment. And then, as if conjuring her up, he saw her coming down the road. His heart jumped, and he went out to the lot to greet her.

  “Hello,” he called as she pulled in.

  She looked surprised to see him out there, and she drove right up to where he stood. She pulled back on the reins and smiled back at him.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  Her brow rose. “Were you now?”

  “Let me help you with the bags.”

  He offered his hand and helped her step down from the cart. Then he grabbed up most of the bags, and she took what he couldn’t carry in one go.

  “I can come back for those,” he offered.

  “Ach, don’t be silly. I have two arms.”

  And together, they took the supplies through the shop and up into the living quarters.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Beulah stood in the kitchen, tapping her finger on her lip. She was deciding just where everything would go—how to arrange it all in the best way. It was clear Ethan had done his best with it before she moved in, but it wasn’t to her liking.

  He’d gone back down to the shop, after she assured him she had everything she needed. Goodness, but he was kind.

  She sank down onto a kitchen chair and rubbed her hands on her lap. She was still feeling all right. She knew lots of women got morning sickness when they were in the family way, but she seemed to be avoiding it.

  She shook her head, thinking about Eliza Troyer’s reaction when she’d said to put things on Ethan Miller’s account.

  “What?” Eliza had asked, looking thoroughly confused. “My hearing ain’t what it used to be.”

  Eliza Troyer’s hearing was perfectly fine. No one with such a penchant for gossip could possibly have trouble hearing anything.

  “Ethan Miller’s account.”

  “You his personal shopping assistant or something?”

  “Nee.” And here Beulah had gulped and braced herself. “I’m his wife.”

  If she hadn’t been so on edge, watching the look of sheer shock on Eliza’s face would have been enough to make Beulah giggle for days. But Eliza’s shock was short-lived, immediately replaced with an eager sort of pouncing to get all the juicy news.

  “Do tell,” Eliza said with a strange sort of cackle. “You got married? When? And how come no one knew about it?”

  “It was a quiet ceremony,” Beulah said, watching Eliza’s hawk-like reaction. “The bishop—” and she did stress the word bishop, “married us at his house.”

  “At his house?” Eliza’s face again registered shock. “Not at your mamm and dat’s place?”

  “At the bishop’s.”

  Eliza’s eyes narrowed, and Beulah realized the entire district would know about her marriage within minutes of her leaving the store. Just as well, she thought. Just as well.

  Now, Beulah stood back up and started rearranging the shelves of Ethan’s kitchen. My kitchen, she corrected herself. She wanted to fix something special for the noon meal. Something that would let Ethan know how much she appreciated him. But before she could come up with a menu, she heard him climbing the stairs. She turned to toward the door and he came in, walking with a boyish gait.

  “What is it?” she asked with a smile.

  “How about I take you out for the noon meal? A kind of celebration dinner.”

  She grinned. Another surprise. “We could eat here,” she said.

  “We could.” He stepped to her and touched her hand. “But we don’t have to.”

  “Nee, we don’t.” She laughed. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “I thought we might go to that Mennonite restaurant on the edge of town.”

  She knew the place. She’d eaten there before with Uriah. Months and months ago. The food had been good, but at the time, she didn’t much care. She didn’t much care about anything except Uriah.

  “That sounds fine,” she said. It was time to change the memories she held about places. Time to replace Uriah with her new life. She felt a sudden twinge in her stomach, and she blinked.

  “You all right?” Ethan asked.

  “Jah. Just a little indigestion I think.”

  “Shall I get Old Mae?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not. What time shall we leave?”

  “How about in an hour?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  * * *

  Nothing had changed in the restaurant since Beulah had been there before. When the waitress was seating them, Beulah had a moment of dread when they seemed to be heading for the very table where she and Uriah had sat, but at the last second, the waitress veered, seating them next to the window.

  “I’m right hungry,” E
than said, picking up the menu.

  “Me, too,” she responded. She was hungry; in fact, her appetite seemed to be growing every day. Like me, she thought, wondering how she’d look when her stomach was protruding before her.

  She glanced around the restaurant and noted a few people from their district were eating the noon meal there, too. They made no pretense about their interest in her sitting with Ethan. She smiled and gave them all a nod of greeting. Let them talk. Eliza Troyer would set everyone straight soon enough.

  The meal was good, and Ethan seemed well-pleased. They were about to get up and leave when Beulah’s heart leapt to her throat. There, through the window, she saw Uriah and his dad getting out of their buggy. What in the world were they doing there?

  She glanced around, looking for a quick exit. There was none. Ethan didn’t notice and had gone to find the waitress for their bill. Beulah didn’t know what to do. Then, she stopped herself. Why in the world should she be self-conscious because of Uriah Umble? He was the one who should be self-conscious. He was the one who deserted her—not the other way around. She squared her shoulders and found Ethan at the counter, paying their bill.

  She knew Uriah and his father had come in because of the tinkling of the bell over the door. She kept her eyes on Ethan. She felt, rather than heard, Uriah’s quick uptake in breath. Ethan turned to her.

  “Ready to go home?” he said. Something on her face must have alerted him, for he turned quickly and saw Uriah and his dad. He put on a friendly smile. “Hello. How are you? I can recommend the meatloaf. It was right tasty.”

  Mr. Umble gave a friendly nod. “Gut to know.” He glanced at Beulah and seemed surprised to see her there, but he didn’t say anything.

  Uriah, however, was glaring at her. She gazed squarely at him, as if daring him to say something. He made a strange almost hissing noise and turned away without a word. Ethan took her elbow and after saying his good-byes, he guided her out of the restaurant. He walked closely by her side all the way to the buggy where he opened her door and waited for her to get in.

 

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