Their Surprise Amish Marriage

by Jocelyn McClay

  Sighing, she leaned back from the table. She’d been selfish. Drumming her fingers on her stomach, Rachel reasoned she had the excuse she’d had many new things going on in her life. But so had Ben. But he’d been finding ways to put in extra, unselfish effort. It was time she did too.

  She raised a wry glance to Susannah. “Mamm, how come every time I’m around you, you put me to work in some fashion?”

  “Habit, I guess. Makes me wonder why you come around.”

  “Habit, I guess. And one I hope to never break. But now,” Rachel pushed up from the table, “I need to go home and,” she wrinkled her nose, “work.”

  Rachel was surprised at the moisture that seemed to glimmer in her mamm’s eyes as she also stood. “I’m sure you’ll do as well there as you always did here. And I’ll be just as proud.”

  Minutes later, after a final wave, Rachel gathered up her bay’s reins and directed him down the lane. Encouraging words from her mamm might’ve been rare while growing up. But, Rachel smiled broadly as her heart swelled, she couldn’t imagine they would’ve felt any better than those few words did right now.

  Now to go home and apply her mamm’s advice. And wonder if Ben would notice her efforts.

  Chapter Six

  Who knew that concentrated effort on her marriage would begin with a trip to the feed store the next day? When Ben tentatively asked as she was cleaning up the breakfast dishes if she’d like to ride along, Rachel figured it was the closest she could get to doing something with him regarding the wretched cattle while staying far away from the beasts. Regardless of her motivation, they’d barely turned out of the lane when the beauty of the late spring day called to her, making her glad she’d come. That and the shy smiles her husband kept sending in her direction. Although their conversation centered on the clear, sunny sky after the previous week’s rain and the blooming vegetation along the side of the road, it was as pleasant as the lovely weather.

  They ran into Gideon Schrock, Ben’s coworker at Schrock Brothers’ Furniture and good friend, coming out of the feed store as they went in. He stayed around to help load the bags of soybean meal pellets Ben was picking up on Isaiah Zook’s account into the flat back of the open buggy Plain folks in the area used in warmer weather.

  When the men had stacked the last of the bags, Gideon leaned on the top one as he considered them. “You two have lunch plans? If not, would you like to join me at The Dew Drop?”

  Ben, after a glance at Rachel, declined his friend’s invitation to join him at the town’s main restaurant with a regretful shake of his head. “Ach, as I did chores first this morning, we’re not that long up from the breakfast table. Also, as this belongs to Isaiah, I want to get it safely put up in the barn before there’s any chance the weather changes. Besides,” he secured the short board across the end of the wagon, “fine as the cooking is at The Dew Drop, Rachel’s is better.”

  Gideon turned to her with a smile. “High praise indeed. I hope you have a touch for frying mushrooms. They’re one of Ben’s favorite foods. I’m surprised he didn’t give a test on fixing them before you two were married.”

  Rachel flushed. There hadn’t been a discussion on cooking skills, much less anything else besides the forthcoming boppeli when she and Ben had determined to marry. She smiled tepidly in response to Gideon’s teasing. Not fond of mushrooms to begin with, as touchy as her stomach still was months into her condition, the memory of the edible fungi’s heavy smell while cooking made her ill. The thought of frying morel mushrooms several times during their current growing season made her want to run behind the store and retch.

  She swallowed against the growing nausea. Her mamm had advised she needed to work on her marriage in order to make it succeed. Right now, success would be getting her and Ben back to a comfortable friendship. If that meant holding her breath and ignoring her rebellious stomach while she cooked what was her husband’s favorite food, it was a start. At least walking in the spring-growth woods together would be pleasant. And frying up his favorite food—Rachel tipped her face away and managed to control her grimace at the thought of the smell—could definitely be considered work on her part.

  When she turned back, she found her husband watching her. “Would you like to go mushroom hunting? I know a good spot to find them.” He glanced at Gideon. “A location I’ll never divulge.”

  Sighing inwardly, Rachel propped up the corners of her lips into a smile. “Ja. Sounds gut. Do I have to keep it a secret too?”

  Gideon nodded. “First rule of a good marriage is to not reveal the location of secret morel patches.”

  Given the situation of their marriage, the absurdity of the requirement made Rachel’s lips twitch for real. Rules of a good marriage? How about not to expect a boppeli with your intended brother-in-law before getting married? She wasn’t sure, but probably sleeping in the same bedroom once wedded might be a candidate for the list. Maybe talking with your spouse more than please pass the salt or a stilted how was your day? might be included. In all likelihood, it wasn’t a rule, but not being terrified of something your husband enjoyed would be helpful.

  Even though she’d prefer to have the whole church district and some of the Englisch neighbors as well tramp through the secret mushroom-hunting ground so there would be none to find, take home to prepare and—she shuddered—eat, if it would help in laying the foundation of a good marriage with Ben, she’d go find, cook and try to eat a mushroom.

  “My lips are sealed.” Reaching up, Rachel tapped her mouth. A glimpse at Ben revealed his attention was lingering on her lips where her fingers rested. The look in his blue eyes made her grateful there was a spring breeze that stirred against her heated cheeks. He looked away when she lowered her hand.

  On the way home, Ben gave her an out. Keeping his eyes directed on his horse Sojourner, he murmured, “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’ve got work I can do around home.”

  Although instantly tempted, Rachel responded. “Nee. Sounds like fun. It looks like a lovely day to walk in the woods.” You’d be proud of me, Mamm.

  Ben looked more excited than she’d seen him in some time. “Sounds gut then. If you want to grab some baskets and knives, we’ll go as soon as I unload the feed.”

  An hour after reaching home, Ben was filling her in on mushrooms as they approached his clandestine hunting grounds. “When the daytime highs are in the sixties and the lows stay above forty degrees, the morels start coming out.” They pulled off the county blacktop onto a short well-shaded lane. Fifty yards farther, Ben drew the bay mare to a halt in a small clearing. Scanning the area for some place to secure Sojourner, he continued talking. Rachel suspected he knew she didn’t have that much interest in the topic, but she appreciated his enthusiasm and efforts at conversation, preferring it over their continued silences.

  “They like well-drained sandy soils. And areas around oaks, ash and elm trees. A lot of times, they grow around dead or dying trees. I look extra close if I see an area where the bark is slipping off the trunk.” He guided Sojourner to a small bush among the trees that ringed the clearing. Snagging the lead rope, he climbed down to secure the mare to one of its branches.

  Grabbing the two baskets they’d brought along for the mushrooms Rachel hoped would stay empty during their exploration, she joined him. Sojourner was already nibbling on the bush when Ben relieved Rachel of one of the baskets. “Just keep your eyes on the ground. Once you find one, slow down and search the area carefully. There’re probably more.”

  That’s what she was afraid of. Rachel didn’t mind the hunting of mushrooms. It was the thought of soaking whatever they found in water for a couple of hours to clean them and wash out any bugs living inside the hollow mushrooms that made her shudder. That and the reaction of her currently delicate stomach to the strong smell as they were sautéed or cooked however Ben might prefer.

  But I’m trying, Mamm. She had to admit, i
t was less awkward between them as they were actually doing something instead of avoiding eye contact across the table. Besides, it was a pretty spring morning to walk in the woods.

  Last fall’s leaves rustled as Ben shuffled through them a short distance beyond her. Rachel kept her attention on the ground, more so to not trip over a branch than to find a mushroom. She wasn’t looking hard for morels and didn’t expect to find any.

  But there, between her right foot and the deteriorating wood of a fallen log, she instantly recognized the tall honeycombed cap and stem. A closer scrutiny of the surrounding area yielded several more. Tightening her grip on her small basket, she stole a glance at Ben. With the downed log between them, he couldn’t see the small but bountiful patch. Rachel gnawed on her lip. With the toe of her shoe, she nudged some surrounding leaves and bits of bark around the area until even the tips of the mushrooms were barely visible.

  She jumped when Ben called from where he was searching roughly fifteen yards away. “Finding anything?”

  “N-nee.” Rachel inched away from the now-concealed mushrooms.

  “That’s funny. This is usually a pretty good spot for hunting.”

  “Maybe it’s still a little early for them?” she offered halfheartedly as she angled away from the fallen log.

  “Maybe. Might have to come up with something else for supper.”

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something.” The words couldn’t tumble out of Rachel’s mouth fast enough.

  * * *

  Ben rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin to hide his smile. It still startled him to find the beginnings of a beard, identifying him as a married man, every time he touched his face. A furtive glance in Rachel’s direction ensured she was facing away. With his booted foot, he carefully shifted leaves over the prolific gathering of morels before him. He didn’t think Rachel would search this way, but just in case, he camouflaged the earth’s bounty.

  He’d seen her kick leaves over the patch she’d found. His grin widened. He’d been wrong in his expectations for their outing. He’d figured Rachel wouldn’t try too hard. She was trying hard all right, trying hard not to find any. Well, two could play at that game.

  Her face had turned a bit green at the mention of frying mushrooms. The past few months, he’d watched her blanch at the smell of certain foods before hurrying to the bathroom. Causing her distress was the last thing he wanted. But she’d agreed to come. Ben had been surprised and encouraged. Ach, more than encouraged, he was thrilled.

  And she seemed to be enjoying herself. Ben nudged some leaves over another trio of morels. So was he. Immensely enjoying not finding mushrooms with his wife.

  Compared to what it could be, while not good, things had been all right between them these last few months. When he didn’t see Rachel in profile, he’d even forget the original reason they married. Although she’d often try to hide them, he’d noticed a decrease in the frequency of her tears.

  Even if they didn’t share a bedroom, at least they were still living in the same house, unlike the couple from the wedding. Word was Lydia’s sister and her children were in their farmhouse, while her husband had moved into the daadi house on the place, usually reserved for the older generation once the grandparents are ready to move out of the main house.

  Ben didn’t like gossip. He figured one shouldn’t talk about someone what you wouldn’t say to them. But when he’d heard the couple’s woes mentioned, he’d pricked up his ears, as the fear of a similar fate in his marriage was a frequent companion.

  So he was satisfied their relationship could be defined as all right. To intentionally try to change that brought risk. Risk he wasn’t prepared to take. He glanced over to where Rachel was shuffling along through last autumn’s fallen leaves, now with a stout walking stick in her hand. His lips twitched at the possibility she was using the stick to press mushrooms back under the leaves. Although he winced at the loss of a tasty mushroom, he was charmed she’d think of that. Charmed that she cared enough to come today. Charmed enough to express his feelings to her?

  The prospect made his heart pound. Taking a couple deep breaths, he reminded himself he was fortunate for what he did have. They were married. It was more than he’d ever imagined. Don’t risk it.

  Ben grimaced. Because he’d saved the boy in the pond, folks thought he was brave. Those things were easy. He had no fear of risking his life or limb. But his blood ran cold at the thought of risking his heart. Of expressing feelings that could be ridiculed or not reciprocated.

  So he couldn’t say things. He wouldn’t say things. But he couldn’t help but show his feelings. Hopefully Rachel wouldn’t notice. She never said anything about the things he did for her. Maybe she didn’t care. He could live with that. He didn’t want to think about not living with her. Or living with her pity if she didn’t feel the same way.

  “I thought you were supposed to be such a wunderbar mushroom hunter.” Rachel made an exaggerated swing of her basket to display its emptiness.

  “Must be the company.” Ben grimaced comically as he turned his own basket upside down.

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to provide then. I think I’ll be able to at least find some eggs when we get home so we won’t starve. Would you like them fried, boiled or scrambled for supper?”

  As they approached the clearing where they’d left the buggy, Ben figured his grin couldn’t stretch any wider. Instead of enduring Rachel’s teasing, he was relishing it. This was the Rachel he’d grown up with. The one he’d fallen in love with. Not the quiet, subdued Rachel he’d lived with the past several weeks, although he’d admired and respected that woman. And, he sighed with satisfaction, this was the way she’d acted around his brother, whom she’d loved. Was it possible she was growing to care for him?

  “We’ll have to see how many eggs you actually find. You might walk by a dozen right under your feet.” As had been the case with the morels. His secret spot had been so prolific with them, the challenge had been guiding her away from the patches without either of them admitting they saw the iconic mushrooms.

  He blinked against the sunlight as they left the shade of the budding trees.

  Rachel stopped and glanced around the empty clearing. “Speaking of finding, are you sure we found our way back?”

  “Ja,” Ben said as he surveyed the area, as well. He was certain of it. But a horse and buggy were pretty difficult to miss. Where had Sojourner gone? Walking the perimeter of the empty clearing, he found proof of where the rig had been parked. Fingering the now stripped bush, Ben discovered the method of her escape. He wiggled what was left of the branch of the bush he’d tied the mare to.

  “Ach. Looks like she chewed herself free. I should’ve secured her better.” He’d never made a mistake like that before. But his mind at the time had been on the encouraging smiles of his wife and the hopes those smiles had wrought.

  He ran an assessing eye over Rachel as he considered the situation. While she’d seemed fine for their tromp through the woods, he didn’t know how long they might now be on foot. He didn’t want to tire her out. Rachel was tall, but even so, there was extensive rounding under her apron. Ben squinted at the sight, trying to recall how many months with child she would be. Three? Nee. It would be slightly more than four now.

  His eyes narrowed further. Ruth Schrock, his boss’s wife, had delivered a baby girl early this year. Although no one spoke of the pregnancy, Ben remembered when she’d come in to visit the business where she’d previously worked. Ruth was a much shorter woman than Rachel. Still, there’d not been a suspicion she was with child until much closer to when the baby had been born.

  By his calculations, Rachel’s child would arrive in the fall. And a profile of his wife already indicated there was no question about her condition. Why would she be so advanced? Frowning, he mentally counted the months again. He froze as Rachel’s words that day when they were tapping the maple trees
came back to him. She’d said she was having a boppeli.

  She didn’t say she was having his boppeli.

  Was it possible...

  “How far do you think she went?”

  He flinched at Rachel’s question. She was frowning now, as well. Ben shook off his troubling thoughts. Right now, the priority was to find their transportation. And equally important to him, regain Rachel’s smiles.

  He propped up the corners of his mouth. “Ach, fortunately for us, she should be easier to see than the morels were. But I don’t know how long she’s been gone or how fast she was going. Do you want to stay here in the shade and wait for me to come back with her? Hard telling how far she went.”

  Rachel dipped her chin shyly. “I’d rather go with you.”

  Ben smiled at the admission, but he hesitantly nodded toward her middle. “Are you sure you feel up to walking some more?”

  “Ja. I’m gut.”

  “Well, at least in this, you don’t have to even think about bending over. Although perhaps we’ll find more mushrooms on the road than we did in the woods.”

  Bumping his basket with hers, Rachel smiled at his teasing. “I’ll let you get them then.”

  They turned in accord toward the lane on the far side of the clearing. Ben shifted his basket to his outside hand and let the other one dangle between them. “Think she went all the way home?”

  Rachel’s eyes widened, probably thinking as he was of the several miles distance. “I hope not.” She bit her lip. “Is she an ambitious type?”

  Ben thought of his mare. “Not generally. She has a nose for good grass though. I’d even have called her a picky eater.” He grinned again. “Until she ate the scrub bush.”