Walking past the sofa, she peeked over, intending to gauge how sound asleep he was so she would know how much time she had to prepare her speech.
And then she realized the sofa was empty again.
For the first time since he’d arrived, he’d left a mess. His pillow lay on the floor, his pair of quilts were rumpled and pulled back in a jumbled heap on the edge of the cushion.
It was obvious that he’d left in a hurry.
Panic filled her. Had she scared him with her proposal? Had he waited until she’d gone to sleep in a mess of tears and worries? If so, she knew he was gone forever from her life. There was no way she could search for him, especially since she was afraid to tell anyone his real name.
“John?” she called out, though she knew that was a foolish idea. It was obvious he wasn’t in the small room.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she spied his saddlebag resting against the wall. She knew now, at the very least, that he hadn’t gone far.
Carelessly throwing a knitted shawl over her shoulders, she rushed outside to the barn. Breathing carefully only when she saw that the barn door was opened slightly.
Surely that meant he was inside. Maybe he was doing chores? Maybe he simply needed some time and space to consider things?
If she went inside, what would she say? Was she willing to give her speech now?
“What are you doing out here dressed like that?” a rough voice suddenly said, as an arm snaked out and pulled her into the dark confines of the barn.
“John!” she cried out as she stumbled.
“You’re going to catch your death, running outside in your bare feet.”
“I only came out to look for you. I was afraid you’d left.” Realizing that his hoarse tone sprang from worry and not anger, she gently released her arm from his grip. “Why are you out here?”
His gaze searched hers. “Last night was a pretty big day. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Were you thinking about the coins?”
“Actually, it was last night’s conversation that had me tossing and turning.”
“I came out here to talk to you about that.”
He paused, then looked at her again and frowned. And then, before she even knew what he was about, he picked her up.
One of his hands was under her knees, the other firmly around her shoulder blades. Every inch of her left side pressed against his body as he carried her back to the house. She couldn’t remember ever being carried before. She batted his shoulder with a hand. “John, what in the world?”
“We are not going to have a conversation with you freezing. And I’m not going to let you walk back alone.”
“But, John—”
“And Sarah, that’s another thing,” he said as he pushed open the door with the brunt of his shoulder then carried her across the threshold. “You’re going to have to stop calling me John all the time.”
As her feet touched the floor, she felt her knees threaten to give way. She was that confounded by what she was hearing. “Why would I need to stop calling you by your Christian name?” she whispered.
“I think you know.”
“I think you’d better tell me.”
He tilted his head so their eyes met. “Well, it’s like this. I can think of a dozen reasons why leaving you is the right thing to do.” A flash of pain entered his eyes before his expression cleared. “But the fact of the matter is this: I simply don’t think I can.”
While she tried to understand what he was saying, he continued. “Sarah, the only honorable thing Jonathan Scott did in his life was become an officer in the Union army by the skin of his teeth. I figure maybe it’s time I gave that name a break and slipped another identity on for size.”
“You’re willing to stay here as my husband? As Daniel?”
“I’ve already started this sham. I can’t bear to have everyone think I up and left you.” As his words hung in the air, he shook his head. “No, I’m going to stop doing that. I’m going to stop pretending I’m only thinking of you here. The truth of the matter is that I don’t want to leave you. I’d like have a home and a wife and a life.” He paused, blinked, then added, “And I also like the way you look at me.”
“How do I do that?”
“You look at me as if I matter, Sarah. I can’t get enough of that. So, if you still want me, I want to stay.”
She’d wondered until this very second if she’d actually be able to go through with the plan. She had wondered if she’d be willing to put everything she was to one side in order to live for everything she thought she wanted.
But the other options seemed so insurmountable. If he admitted to everyone that he’d pretended to be Daniel, he would not only be hated but everyone would suppose that they’d been living in sin.
If they left, she would lose her home, and even a money jar full of coins couldn’t pay for the beginnings of a new life.
Indeed, every other option seemed like they’d be going down a road full of hardship and pain.
Or they could simply continue a lie. At least for a little while. Until they discovered another option. “Stay, Daniel.”
He looked shaken. Almost stunned. And then, wonder of wonders, he smiled. “You feel like making breakfast this morning, Sarah? Because suddenly, I feel like I could eat a horse.”
“I’ll start making the coffee right now.”
“I’ll go outside then and wash up.” Before she could say another word, he walked out the door and closed it behind him.
Leaving her almost breathless as she realized what they’d just decided.
AS SOON AS he knew for sure that he was out of Sarah’s eyesight, John leaned his head against the house and closed his eyes.
It was over.
He’d gotten everything he wanted. So why did it feel like he’d come up on the losing side of a bloody battle? His insides felt weak and sore. Empty.
It was because he wanted to be worthy of her. Pretending to be her abusive husband wasn’t something that set well with him. And though he already knew he would cherish her for the rest of his days, he hated the thought of pretending to be a man who had hurt her in so many ways.
There was also one small point that he was reluctant to admit to himself—now that he was giving up his name for all intents and purposes, he felt a true sense of loss. While it was true that Jonathan Scott hadn’t been all that much, it had been who he was. Now it felt as if he had finally taken the side of all the people who’d made him feel less than human. As if he’d finally given up on John Scott, too.
It was a funny thing, survival. He’d learn at a young age that it made a man do things he never thought he would. When he was younger, living at the orphanage, and then later with different families working for room and board but without love or affection, he realized he could subsist on very little. It was all a matter of either living or dying.
And dying had always seemed like such a permanent thing.
Later, in the war, he’d gotten a taste of what it was to be just like everyone else. When he’d first donned that Union uniform and had looked around at the other men, he’d felt included for the first time in his life. He’d enjoyed the feeling of having clothes that weren’t another person’s hand-me-downs. He’d liked fitting in.
Those first weeks in the training camp had been a world of wonder, too. He’d discovered that a lifetime of being quicker, tougher, and meaner had served him well. He’d followed orders with ease and had distinguished himself in front of the officers. So much so that a major had claimed him and taken him under his wing.
And then the other men began to look to him for direction.
That measure of respect had been a revelation. After a lifetime of feeling unwanted, he’d become worthy. When he’d gotten burned in the fire, he’d been discharged. And with that, everything he’d gained in self-esteem vanished. Once again, he’d been alone in the world. Though the major had kindly reminded him he deserved to go home and rest, John had known he had no home to r
eturn to and no family to see.
He’d imagined he would spend the rest of his life alone and unneeded. But to his amazement, it looked as if the Lord was going to give him another opportunity to shine. And because of that, he was willing to work harder, to try harder to become the man Sarah Ropp needed him to be.
Her needs and wants were important to him. The longer he got to know her, the more he was aware of how poorly she’d been treated by Daniel. She needed to have someone to lean on.
She needed to feel valued and special.
With that in mind, John washed his face in a rush then walked back inside just as she was putting their eggs on the table with thick slices of bread she’d toasted in the oven.
“We’re celebrating today with three eggs?”
“I figure it’s a pretty grand occasion. And now that we have some coins, I’m hoping we can get another couple of hens.”
Her small request humbled him. “We should go into town today. Or I will, if you’d rather. We’ll get some things at the general store that you’ve been missing, like flour and grain for the animals.”
“And can we stop at the Yosts’ farm on the way home to see about the hens?”
“Of course we can.” He smiled at her gently. “Is there anything else you’d like to buy right now?”
“Not yet. What about you?”
He wanted a horse, but that would take most of the funds. “Nothing yet.” Fingering his clothes, he said, “Well, maybe some cloth? I’d like some clothes that fit.”
Her expression softened. “I would be happy to make you some.”
He smiled at her, remembering how skittish he’d been when she’d been attempting to make him his shirt. They’d circled each other like a pair of nervous nellies, each afraid of saying what was really on their minds.
He could hardly believe they’d come so far.
At last, he made his last, most important request. “Sarah, about the two of us . . .”
She stilled. “Yes?”
He wiped his hands on his trousers, realizing his palms had suddenly gone damp. “Well, I hope that we could also get a license.”`
“For what?”
“I’m speaking of a marriage license.” When her blue eyes widened, he rushed to explain, hating that his voice was betraying his nervousness, allowing her to realize just how much he wanted to be legally married. Forever. “Ah, it doesn’t have to be right now. But perhaps, we could marry one day. When you are ready.”
“I’ve never imagined a wedding among the English.”
She sounded shocked, and he didn’t blame her. But he also knew that she was going to have to be willing to put some of her fears to the side if their new partnership was ever going to work. “I know it’s not the best situation, but I think there are some benefits to that idea.”
“But I wouldn’t know what to do. How to act?”
“All you’d have to do is be yourself. I’d take care of the rest,” he promised. Though he knew his words were going to make her uncomfortable, he plowed ahead. “We can’t marry here, can we? But I think it would be best for us both to be legally wed.”
“All right, John,” she murmured.
Her voice was restrained. Afraid she was feeling bullied, he wondered how he was ever going to make things better. Wondered what he could ever say to convey the wealth of his emotions.
Then he noticed the light shining in her eyes.
And realized that she, too, was just as excited as he was.
Seventeen
A Hero’s Welcome
ANOTHER SUNDAY WAS upon them.
As Sarah carefully checked her stockings for runs and pinned on her apron, she found it hard to believe that a whole month had already passed.
Every time Sarah reflected on the last thirty days, she couldn’t help but shake her head in wonder. For the last three years, time had seemed to be at a standstill. Morning would fade into night, then shift from restless sleep to a new dawn that would sluggishly arise. Some days had felt like whole weeks, some hours like an eternity.
Now, she greeted each day with a hope-filled smile and end each night with a prayer of gratitude. John’s appearance in her life had changed her life completely. He was a true helpmate, a man who brought her smiles. He’d even taught her to find joy and humor in most any situation. He’d taught her how to laugh at herself—and at him. What they had made her days suddenly feel worthwhile again. She was so grateful for his friendship and his trust.
All that was why she’d at last agreed to be his wife.
Though they still hadn’t talked of love, she’d lived long enough to know that some things were more important than flowery words. These were the things that John had given her: trust, friendship, laughter, and the knowledge that she was no longer going to have to wake up each morning with the uneasy feeling that she was completely alone.
Two weeks ago, she’d nervously accompanied him on the long journey to Mansfield. They’d borrowed a neighbor’s horse, choosing to purchase a small wagon along the way. Once they were in the outskirts of the town, she’d carefully removed her kapp and put on the new calico he’d bought her. Though wearing clothes out of her faith felt wrong, she agreed with John that it would be best to not draw attention to themselves. The last thing they needed was for word to get back to her church community that she had married “Daniel” in a county courthouse.
As they stood outside the front door of the imposing government building, John had turned to her and taken her hand. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
“I’m sure. I want to be your wife, John. Your wife in truth.”
After gazing at her a moment longer, he’d nodded and held out his arm for her to take. Curving her hand around his arm, they’d entered as Sarah Ropp, widow of fallen soldier Daniel Ropp, and Lieutenant Jonathan Scott.
It had taken practically no time for John to complete the paperwork and pay the fee. Then, in front of a weary judge and two disinterested clerks, they’d exchanged solemn vows.
Suddenly, it hadn’t mattered that they were dressed in English clothes and standing in the midst of strangers. All that really mattered to Sarah was the look of happiness she spied when she gazed into John’s eyes.
Instinctively, she knew he meant every word when he’d promised to love and cherish her. And when she said those words, she’d felt as if all the years of hardship before him had suddenly melted away.
Which was why their brief ceremony had felt both exactly right and terribly wrong. She understood the need for them to be legally bound, and had understood the reasons for her to legally be Mrs. Jonathan Scott.
But becoming his wife in such a secular, foreign building, without the support and love of friends and relatives, had felt strange.
And because there was no mention of the Lord in the secular ceremony, because she wasn’t even sure if she could one day fall in love, the event had felt a bit hollow.
She had sorely needed the Lord to be with her on such an important day, for she surely felt He had been behind the miraculous changes that had taken place in her life.
When she’d mentioned such a thing to John, he’d wrapped one strong arm around her shoulders . . . and then had told her she was being foolish.
“Of course the Lord is with us, Sarah. He brought us together, didn’t He?”
“Well, jah. But—”
“All we need to remember is that He is with us in our hearts. God didn’t need to be mentioned in the ceremony by that judge, Sarah. He knows of our faith.”
That had been all she’d needed to hear to remember that marrying John had been the exactly right thing to do.
Now, a full two weeks after their ceremony, not much had changed between them. John remained carefully respectful and always kind and patient. She was learning to be more comfortable around him, but she didn’t feel as if she could completely let down her guard yet.
John still slept on the sofa while she continued to close the bedroom door f
irmly each night.
But as the days passed, they lingered over their partings. Sometimes John even reached out and pressed his palm against hers. Once he’d glided two fingers along the curve of her cheek.
Most recently she’d taken to standing against her door after they parted, feeling strangely bereft. Once, she’d even fantasized about the day when their separate sleeping arrangements were a thing of the past.
For his part, John seemed to take her reticence in stride, often reminding her that he was willing to wait weeks and months if that was what she needed. It seemed he was worried about causing her further pain.
However, it didn’t look as if the waiting was all that easy for him, either. Sometimes she caught him staring at her face a moment longer than he had before. Now and then he’d taken to resting his hand on the small of her back when they were walking from the barn to the house. When she’d asked him why he’d done such a thing, he’d chuckled.
“It’s one of the few manners I learned, I suppose,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “A gentleman is supposed to guide his lady.”
“Why?”
“I guess so she feels like someone is looking after her.” He’d shrugged. “Do you mind my touch, Sarah?”
She’d felt her cheeks heat as she shook her head. No, she didn’t mind his touch at all. She’d even begun to look forward to it—not that she would ever admit that to him.
But it seemed as if that small exchange had emboldened him.
Just that evening his fingers had brushed hers when she’d handed him a dish of cornbread. And his gaze had seemed a little more thoughtful, a little bit warmer when he relaxed next to her on the sofa. For a moment she’d considered asking him what he was about. But simply sitting next to him had felt too nice and comfortable to question things further. They’d spent at least an hour simply sitting together, not talking all that much.
Mainly they just spent time basking in the peace that had come from the knowledge that all the secrets and doubts between them had been laid to rest.
They’d even begun to mix with the other Amish in her church community. Little by little, other men began to joke with him and other women stopped giving him such a wide berth. At first everyone was wary because he was so different. And the scars put people off, too. But soon John’s kind nature began to shine through their reticence.
Redemption Page 13
