Jeb's Wife

by Patricia Johns

  “Fifty thousand,” her brother said.

  The breath whooshed out of her lungs, and for a moment, the room felt like it was spinning. A strong hand caught her elbow and lowered her into a kitchen chair. She looked up to see Jeb standing over her, his expression granite. But there was something close to sympathy shining in his dark eyes. He pulled his hand away and she sucked in a wavering breath.

  “Fifty thousand dollars?” Leah breathed. “Simon, where on earth are we going to get that kind of money?”

  * * *

  Jeb should leave—he knew that. He wanted to leave, in fact. Everything inside him wanted to bolt for the door and get some space again, but when Leah had blanched like that and just about fainted, he didn’t have a whole lot of choice.

  He went to the sink and opened two cupboards before he found the glasses. There were a few dishes inside, but not many. Jeb couldn’t boast much more in his own cupboards. He and Katie had started out with some proper dishes, but after her death, he and his uncle had broken them one by one through their own clumsiness and he was down to an assorted few.

  Jeb grabbed a water glass and filled it from the tap, then returned to the table. Leah was ashen, her lips almost as white as her cheeks, and when he handed her the glass, her gaze fell to his scarred hand with the puckered, stretched skin. She licked her lips uncomfortably. He still wasn’t used to this reaction—the revulsion. He placed it on the table next to her and pulled his hand behind his back and out of sight.

  He knew what he looked like now—his face was worse than his arm and hand were, and his left leg was probably the worst of all. Kinner stared if they saw him on the road, clinging to their mamms’ aprons, and they burst into tears if they were faced with him in an aisle in the farm supply store and didn’t have an easy escape.

  “Thank you,” Leah said, a beat too late.

  Jeb didn’t answer.

  His hip ached, and the skin on his arm was so tight that he couldn’t fully extend it. He’d worked on that alone in his room, pushing past the point of comfort, grunting with pain—but something had happened to the tendons in that fire and they’d shrunk. He wasn’t going to be the man he was before ever again.

  Simon sat at the table and wiped blood from his nose on the back of one hand. He might be beaten up, but he’d heal up all right. Jeb’s damage was more permanent ... and, he dared to say, it went deeper. He’d lost his wife and his naïve optimism all in one tragic accident. He’d gained both these scars and his freedom from a marriage to a woman who loathed him . . .

  And he hated that he was relieved.

  “We’ll figure out the money,” Simon said to his sister. “We always do.”

  “You mean I always do!” Leah’s voice shook, and Jeb looked over at Leah. Her color hadn’t come back yet, and she looked exhausted.

  Jeb took the cloth from her fingers and he turned to Simon. The younger man’s gaze jerked up in surprise, but Jeb put a solid hand on his shoulder to keep him put and carefully wiped the blood and dust from his face.

  When Jeb had seen Simon stumbling down the road, his hat missing and blood dribbling from his face, he’d felt about how Leah looked right now. This was bad—and if whoever he owed was willing to give this kind of message, it wouldn’t stop either. But what could he do? He’d pulled his buggy to a stop and helped Simon up onto the seat. There would be blood splats Jeb would have to hose off his buggy floorboards before the day was out.

  But there was no confusion as to what had happened ... and fifty thousand dollars wouldn’t be easy to come by.

  Jeb finished wiping off Simon’s face, then he crossed his arms, looking the young man up and down. “Your leg—what happened there?”

  “It’s my knee,” Simon said. “It’ll be okay—”

  It very likely required a hospital visit, but that cost money, too. Jeb sighed, then crouched down in front of Simon and gently felt the joint in question. There was a fair amount of swelling, but nothing felt broken or dislocated.

  “Who did this?” Jeb asked, his voice low.

  Simon didn’t answer, and Jeb’s anger started to rise. This was no game, and the idiot might end up dead in a ditch next time if he kept trying to play with whatever Englisher crooks he was associating with.

  “Just some people. I’ll get them the money—” Simon said after a moment.

  “How?” Jeb demanded. “You’re going to make your sister come up with it?”

  Leah cleared her throat. “It’s okay, Jeb. My brother and I will discuss it.”

  He doubted she had the cash. A man leaning on a woman like that—it put a bad taste in his mouth.

  “You should go talk to the bishop,” Jeb said. “Maybe the community can step in—”

  “They’ve already threatened to discipline me,” Simon said, his words slurring past his swollen mouth. “We’re not going to the bishop.”

  Leah looked away, and her expression was grim. She was a woman very much on her own—single and trying to fix problems too big for any solitary person. Jeb might like his privacy, but there were times when a community could be of help. He wasn’t blind to that.

  “You just inherited this farm, didn’t you?” Simon asked after a beat of silence. “Your uncle Peter just passed, and you were named heir. I know that.”

  Leah looked over at Jeb in surprise, and he felt the heat hit his face. That was private business, and he preferred to keep it that way. But apparently word was out. He had his own problems at the moment—namely, finding a new home.

  “Yah, I was named heir, but there are a few complications there,” Jeb replied. “Peter stipulated that I had to be married within four weeks of his passing in order for me to inherit, so my cousin, Menno, will get this land.”

  It had been a cruel stipulation, because Peter knew exactly why Jeb wouldn’t remarry after his wife’s death, free or not.

  “Do you have any savings?” Simon pressed.

  “Simon, stop that!” Leah seemed to be getting her color back. “I’m sorry about your uncle, Jeb. And I’m sorry for how callous Simon is being. My brother isn’t himself right now—”

  “Yah, I know,” Jeb said.

  “I did hear about the funeral,” Leah added. “And I was going to send a letter of condolence, but—”

  No, she hadn’t been. That was a lie he was willing to forgive.

  “It’s fine,” he said, and he headed to the sink to rinse out the cloth. “The funeral was very nice. The community did well by him.”

  “God rest his soul,” she murmured.

  “God rest his soul,” he echoed, then wrung out the cloth and tossed it toward Simon. “Put that under your nose.” Then he turned to Leah. “If I were you, I’d bandage up his knee nice and tight. I got kicked hard by a horse once, and that’s what helped most. Do you have any steak in the house?”

  Leah shrugged weakly. “I’ve got an old sheet to use for bandages, but no steak at the moment.”

  “I have one in the icebox at home. It was going to be my supper, but you can have it for his face.”

  It was something. Someone had to help her. Simon had some of Jeb’s sympathy for the pain he was in right now, but he’d brought that punishment on himself, the young fool. But Leah was caught in the middle, and she was doing her best to provide for herself without a husband.

  “I’ll bring you some dinner,” Leah said. “And then you won’t go hungry. If that’s okay with you.”

  “Yah. A fair trade,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

  A woman’s cooking ... it had been a very long time since he’d had some.

  Simon adjusted himself in his chair, leaning forward as he nursed his nose. Leah looked uncomfortable, her gaze flickering toward Jeb uncertainly. Right. He wasn’t exactly welcome here.

  “I should go,” Jeb said, and he turned toward the door. Leah stood up and followed him.

  “Jeb—” she started, and he glanced back. She closed the distance between them, tipping her face up to look him in the eye. He saw her
slight recoil as her gaze moved over those scars. “What do you know about what my brother has been up to?”

  Jeb glanced back at the young man. He wasn’t about to keep his secrets, and if Simon hated him for it, so be it.

  “He’s been gambling with some dangerous Englishers,” Jeb said. “They do this kind of thing when a man hasn’t paid up. I can only imagine how long that debt has been growing.” Jeb rubbed his good hand over his beard. “I saw him with a black eye and a sprained wrist once, and another time with a bloody nose. So this isn’t the first time he’s been beaten up.”

  “And no one thought to tell me,” she breathed.

  “He’s an adult.”

  “He’s my brother!” she snapped, but her chin quivered. Was she angry at him for not writing to tell her? As if staying in communication with his late uncle’s renters was his responsibility.

  Jeb had bigger problems.

  “Really?” was all he said.

  She licked her lips. “If you could maybe keep me informed of what he’s up to—” she started, but the words evaporated on her lips when she saw his face. Were his feelings about her brother that obvious? Or was it just the scarring that stopped her like that?

  “I won’t be here,” he reminded her. “Menno will inherit this land, remember? I’m sure my cousin will be happy to keep you on as renters. It’s income, right? So, if you want someone to keep an eye on him, you’d have to talk to Menno.”

  Leah nodded, and tears misted her eyes. Blast. It wasn’t just a beautiful woman crying that softened him like this, it was this particular woman. Life hadn’t been easy for her either.

  “I’m sorry,” he added feebly. “If there was something I could do, I would.”

  Jeb pulled open the door and stepped outside. He couldn’t stay here. He had work to do, a farm to run on his own for the time being, and getting emotionally involved in other people’s problems wasn’t good for him. The community might be a great support for others, but it hadn’t ever been for him.

  “If I came by at six, would you be at the house?” Leah asked.

  “Yah. I can do that.”

  “I’ll bring some fried chicken, in exchange for that steak.”

  Jeb nodded his agreement, then headed toward his buggy, the horse waiting patiently. Chicken in exchange for steak ... except an idea had started to form that just might be the solution to both of their problems. She needed money, and he needed a legal wife in order to collect on that inheritance.

  He glanced back and saw her standing at the door, her dark eyes fixed on him with a worried expression.

  Leah was beautiful, and he was scarred. She was ten years younger than him, and far less emotionally damaged than he was. But she’d been left over in the marriage market, and she needed money.

  He could get that money, if he inherited the land under his boots.

  Was this as crazy as it sounded?

  Chapter Two

  Leah went back into the house and shut the door behind her. Her hands felt cold despite the hot weather, and she stood there for a moment feeling entirely drained of all feeling. She’d come home, thinking it would be a pleasant summer of canning food and mending her brother’s clothes, but instead she’d stepped back into some sort of bad dream, and she was halfway waiting to wake from it.

  Simon struggled to his feet, and Leah pushed back the fog and hurried toward him.

  “Sit down,” she said. “I need to wrap your knee. Jeb was right—you need a tight bandage if it’s going to heal.”

  Simon sank back into the chair.

  “Hold on. I’ll fetch an old sheet,” she said, and she went down the hallway to the linen cupboard. She found the tattered sheet she’d been thinking of and shook it open. It would do. Using her teeth to start the tear, she slowly tore a long strip from one side.

  “I thought you’d stopped with the drinking and gambling,” Leah said when she came back into the room.

  “I had,” Simon said.

  “Not for good,” she countered.

  “It was a big game,” he said.

  “Jeb said there were other times he found you battered.”

  “Just let me explain.” Simon shot her an annoyed look, but he pulled up his pant leg to expose his puffy knee. “It was a big game—you didn’t have to come with much, but some big players were going to be there, and I knew I had a chance to win. So I went. Except I didn’t win. I got pretty high in the ranking, and then I lost. I had signed a few IOUs, and they roughed me up when I didn’t pay up within a few days. Then there was another game, and I thought I could pay it back if I just won . . .”

  “But you didn’t.” Leah began to wrap her brother’s knee with careful precision.

  “No . . . and the same thing happened. So this last game, I knew I had to win, because losing just wasn’t an option!”

  “Obviously, that didn’t work out,” she muttered.

  “But there is another game coming up—”

  “Would you just stop?” she snapped. “Simon, look at you! They’ll kill you next!”

  “I’m fine—”

  “You’re not!” She tied off the bandage, and Simon pulled down his pant leg once more. “If you needed extra money, you should have told me, not tried to gamble for it.”

  “And you would have told me to get a job,” he retorted.

  “You need a job!” She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the rising anger. “How long has it been since the RV place laid you off?”

  “I don’t know. Three months?”

  Leah had been doing her best since her parents died, for all the good she’d done. She’d kept him fed, clothed, and she’d made him memorize his scripture verses. She’d worked extra jobs and even accepted charity to keep food on the table, but her brother didn’t seem to appreciate any of it. If he had, he wouldn’t be doing this to her now!

  “Peter King was giving you work,” she said. “Wasn’t he?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Yah, but there’s still a farm to run!” she said. “And Jeb is doing it all himself. Maybe he’ll hire you—”

  “If I can’t win the money, I need to pay back what I owe within two weeks,” Simon said. “Or—”

  “Or?” she demanded.

  “They’ll do it again.” Simon’s voice trembled this time. “If you don’t want me to win it back, you’ve got to help me! I didn’t want to talk about this in front of Jeb. It’s not his business. You’ll have to tell him not to tell anyone, okay?”

  “Jeb keeps to himself,” she said woodenly.

  “Last month, the elders came,” Simon said.

  Leah winced. “They didn’t tell me—”

  “I’m old enough to marry, Leah. They aren’t going to tell you anything anymore,” Simon retorted. “But they told me that they were close to sending me away. It wouldn’t be shunning exactly, because I’m not baptized yet, but they thought it would be better for me to go to another community.”

  “They might be right,” Leah said.

  “Except the people who I owe won’t stop!” Simon said. “Don’t you get it? Leah, they know where I live. They’ll come after you—”

  Leah rubbed her hands over her face, her mind spinning ahead. “Then we both leave. I’ll bring you to Rimstone with me, and you’ll have to stay on the straight and narrow. Maybe we’ll call you a different name so that if someone asks about you, they won’t know who they’re talking about—”

  “These men will come to our neighbors. I know how stupid I’ve been to get involved with people like this, Leah, I do. But my only option is to pay them back. Once they have the money, they’ll leave me alone. And then I promise I’ll never gamble again. I’ve learned my lesson!”

  “Pay them back with what?” Leah shook her head. “Even if I scraped up every penny I have under my name, it won’t be a fraction of what you owe! This isn’t a matter of talking me into it, Simon! I don’t want you killed, and I’d pay them off if I had access to the money. People don’t
just have fifty grand in their cookie tins!”

  “Maybe the bishop would part with some of the community fund—”

  “That money is for medical emergencies, paying for doctors ... not gambling debt!”

  The bishop wouldn’t part with a penny of that money, and Leah knew it. The elders would have to agree, and their community all contributed to that fund. If there was fifty thousand dollars there, the Amish community of Abundance wouldn’t be willing to empty it out for the likes of Simon Riehl.

  “We’ll have to hide you,” Leah said. “They won’t come beat a woman.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Simon whispered.

  A chill ran up her spine. Would these Englisher monsters really track down a woman and do to her what they’d done to her brother?

  “But Jeb could lend us the money,” Simon said. “He doesn’t spend anything—he’s got to have some! And I see the way he looks at you.”

  “Exactly how does he look at me?” she snapped, anger rising up inside her.

  “He likes you,” Simon said.

  “And you’d have me flirt with him for money?” A man who’d been severely injured in a fire ... a man who, it was rumored, was so badly injured that a married relationship would no longer be possible?

  “I don’t know!” Simon said, his voice rising. “If I had an easy answer, we wouldn’t be arguing about this, would we? I’m just saying, of anyone, I think Jeb is the most likely to help us. He doesn’t think much of me, but he does like you a lot, and—” He stopped short, the words hanging in the air between them.

  Simon wouldn’t say it out loud. His silent suggestion was disgusting, and even Simon knew that. But she knew what he was getting at. If she could sweet-talk Jeb into giving them a loan, combined with the money she’d stashed away, it might be enough to cover the debt, or to at least put a large enough dent in it to keep those thugs at bay for a little while longer.

  “I have to start dinner,” Leah said, and she headed to the sink to wash her hands. Outside the kitchen window, the sun was shining with all the bright optimism of a summer day, and instead of feeling comforting and tranquil, it felt glaring and harsh.