Jeb's Wife

by Patricia Johns

  He released his mamm and she stepped aside. Jeb stood there in a pool of afternoon sunlight, his hat pushed back on his head, and his gaze locked on her.

  “Leah . . .”

  Before she could answer, Jeb strode across the gravel and gathered her up in his arms. He looked down at her for a moment, then dipped his head and caught her lips with his. His kiss felt warm and safe, like coming home. She leaned into his embrace, his beard tickling her face as he tightened his arms around her, holding her close against the deep, strong beat of his heart.

  Why had she ever gotten on that bus to begin with? She belonged here—right here—in her husband’s arms.

  * * *

  It was such a relief to have her in his arms again, but when Jeb looked up, he saw his mamm standing there with her arms crossed and a funny little smile playing across her face.

  “What are you doing here?” Leah asked, looking up into his face.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he said with a short laugh. “But I came to find you. I went to the address you gave me first, and she said you’d come to see my mamm, so . . .”

  “Oh.” Leah smiled at that. “I wanted to meet her. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He should have expected as much. That was her way, wasn’t it? She was better with people than he was.

  “Leah, I need to talk to you.” Alone ... the words were jumbled up inside him, and he wasn’t sure how he’d express it all, but he had to try. Jeb caught Leah’s hand and led her toward the neat little garden, rows of leafy lettuce and twisting vines of green peas.

  “I love you,” he blurted out.

  “I love you, too.” She looked up at him, her brown gaze melting as it met his.

  “Still?” he whispered.

  “Still.” Tears misted her eyes, and he felt a flood of relief. “I missed you.”

  “Methuselah and the bishop came by . . .” He swallowed. “Methuselah asked me for help with his buggy, and ... they’re siding with me when it comes to Menno.”

  Leah blinked at him. “What?”

  “I’m not telling this very well, but they said I’m in the right.” Jeb dropped his gaze. “They’ve told Menno to stop spreading tales about me, and they’re in support of me inheriting the land. The bishop knew about the will apparently. It was no surprise to him.”

  “I’m glad,” Leah said.

  “They’ve invited me to come to service Sundays, and I said I would,” he went on. “I’ll help out Methuselah with his buggy wheel.... Leah, I know you need your community, and I’ll try to find a place again.”

  “Really?” she breathed.

  He was giving her hope, but he had to be clear. She had to understand him—all of him.

  “The thing is, I’m not perfect,” he went on. “I’ll still be me. . . . I’m not going to be good in groups, and I’ll probably make people uncomfortable still, but—”

  Leah didn’t say anything at first. She just looked down at her hand in his, and he saw what drew her gaze—the puckered, scarred skin.

  “I really missed you,” she whispered at last. “I’ve been holding on to my own idea of what a proper Amish life looks like, and it’s okay that the one I have looks different than I thought. My place in the community is going to change, too. I just want to come home. I don’t want a year without you. I’d be miserable. Community or not.”

  Jeb reached up and put his hand against her cheek. She leaned into his touch, and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead.

  “I’m going to take a chance here,” he said quietly. “I’m not asking you to come back halfway. I’m not asking for our old arrangement, where we have separate rooms and we try not to feel all this. I’m asking for all of it—a real marriage, for you to come home with me as my wife in every way.”

  Pink touched her cheeks. “All of it?”

  “Yah,” he said. “You know how I feel about you, you know what I’m wanting. And I promise to respect you, to protect you, and I’ll always be kind. You can count on that. But I want a wife in every sense, Leah. I want you to move into my bedroom.”

  She was silent for a moment, and for a split second he thought she’d say no. But then he saw the tears shining in her eyes, and she nodded before she said, “I want that, too.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “Because I don’t think my heart could take any miscommunication on this.”

  “I want to come home to you,” Leah said. “And I want to share a bed with you, and to wake up with you . . . I want you to be my husband in every way.”

  Jeb slid his arms around her and crushed her against him as he kissed her thoroughly one more time. She twined her arms around his neck, and when he looked up, he saw his mamm standing in the doorway again.

  “Mamm, maybe I should introduce you to my wife,” he called with a grin.

  “We’ve met, son,” Ruth called back. “I’ve decided I like her.”

  Leah shook with suppressed laughter, and she tugged herself out of his arms. He hated to let go of her, but what could they do? It wasn’t like they were at home, with privacy.

  “Come inside,” Jeb said. “I want you to meet my mamm. Properly.”

  As they headed up the steps, hand in hand, he realized he hadn’t gone back to the way things were long ago. Instead he’d come through the pain and heartbreak and come out the other side. It was amazing how beautiful it was out here with his wife’s hand in his and his heart yearning toward her.

  It felt like sunshine.

  Epilogue

  Leah awoke the next morning to the feeling of Jeb’s arms tugging her against him. He held her close, one hand moving in a slow circle over her back. She blinked her eyes open, Jeb’s broad chest coming into view. She tentatively ran her hand over the swirls of chest hair. Her husband ... It still felt amazing to think that this man next to her was hers. She would never tire of the sensation of being held and loved. It was intoxicating, and right and pure in every way.

  They’d taken a late bus back last night, and her suitcase still sat fully packed in one corner of Jeb’s bedroom ... their bedroom.

  Jeb ran his hand down her arm and onto her hip, his touch firm and confident. She looked up at him. His eyes were still closed, but there was a little smile tickling the corners of his lips.

  “It’s morning,” she said softly.

  “I know . . .” He opened one eye and looked down at her. “I don’t want to move yet.”

  “You might want breakfast,” she said with a low laugh. Downstairs, she had a fire to kindle, cooking to start. It took a little while for a stove to heat up sufficiently.

  “Nope.” He rolled over onto his side, the whole bed creaking and groaning with the sudden movement, and he pulled her close against him. “I want this.”

  He kissed her temple, his beard tickling her eye, so she shut it, enjoying his embrace as his lips traced the side of her face.

  “We have a farm,” she reminded him, but only half-heartedly.

  “Yah, we do.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. She hadn’t braided her hair last night. He’d tugged her into bed before she had the chance, and told her he liked it better like this—loose, wild. A woman’s hair was her husband’s glory, he’d said, so let him glory in it.... This morning her thick hair was tangled.

  Leah pushed herself up onto her elbow, and Jeb let out a groan, then smiled up at her.

  “I like this,” he murmured. “Having you here, in our bed, together.”

  “Me too,” she agreed.

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” he said. “If we get up now, then we go to bed early tonight.”

  Leah laughed softly at that, then leaned down to kiss his lips. “Okay.”

  “Very early.”

  “Okay,” she repeated.

  “Yah?” He caught her gaze. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “I hope you do.” She grinned back.

  Jeb sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. She watched him, enjoying the sight of his
muscles, his skin, even the play of the scars over his left side.

  This was marriage. This was what it was like to be loved by a husband, to be enjoyed by a husband.... It was more than she’d ever imagined.

  “Jeb?” she said quietly.

  “Yah?” He looked back over at her, doing up his pants and then reaching for a fresh shirt. He stood there, his shirt in his hands and that warm, dark gaze meeting hers tenderly.

  “I do love you,” she said.

  A smile touched his lips. “I love you, too. With everything I’ve got.”

  Leah believed him when he said that. She’d felt it in his kiss, in his touch, in the way his gaze moved over her face like that.... They had a lifetime to prove it to each other, a lifetime to explore this new domain of marriage and where they’d fit into the larger community. This was just the very beginning, and her heart was already full to bursting.

  She couldn’t imagine how much better it would get as the years rolled by.

  With one last smile cast in her direction, Jeb headed out of the bedroom, his footsteps creaking down the stairs. Leah stretched out beneath the sheet, a smile toying at her lips. Her friend’s words came back to her:

  Like a warrior at her back, a lover for the rest of her life . . . a man who cherished her.

  Suddenly all that advice the women had been trying to give her made a whole lot more sense. Perhaps the community would have to wait a little bit before they saw much more of Leah and Jeb. She had a feeling the women at least would understand.

  The honeymoon was only beginning.