A Wedding for Julia

by Vannetta Chapman

  The squirming sister in her lap suggested otherwise.

  Besides, if this were merely a bad dream, it had very realistic people who kept saying things she didn’t want to hear. As her mother left the room, she added, “Tomorrow we’ll decide what you should take. Your bus leaves early Friday morning.”

  Sharon stood next to her mother in the predawn darkness. Her brother Jonas had elected to stay with the horse and buggy, over on the far side of the parking area. He’d only spoken with her once, the day before, and it was plain he was siding with their parents.

  Her father hadn’t come with them to the downtown station where the bus depot picked up and dropped off passengers. His only words to her had been delivered in a flat, resigned tone. “Goodbye, Sharon. May Gotte keep you safe.”

  She hadn’t been able to look at him.

  Part of her wanted to cry and beg him to let her stay.

  Another part wanted to lash out and remind him she was seventeen—practically an adult. He couldn’t just decide where she would go and with whom she would live.

  It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

  But instead of pleading her case with tears or arguments, she’d sat there frozen, not even pretending to eat.

  Her father had taken one final look at her breakfast plate, shaken his head, and left through the kitchen door. Her last sight of him was with his coat collar turned up and his shoulders hunched against the wind as he walked toward the barn.

  Her younger brothers were only beginning to stir as they left.

  And she didn’t have the heart to peek in on Ruthie, who was still sleeping in the room they shared.

  “Bus is arriving in five minutes, folks. Be sure your ticket is handy and your luggage is tagged with your name.”

  Sharon searched her mind frantically. There had to be something she could say to her mother. There had to be a way she could change what was about to happen. She couldn’t leave Monroe. How could they expect her to travel to Wisconsin, and live with people she didn’t even know?

  “There’s Edna.” Marion began waving her hand. “We are so fortunate someone from our district was traveling to Minnesota and could change her plans and leave today instead of next week.”

  “Mamm—”

  “Mind your manners, Sharon. Edna’s older and she can be strict. She’ll be a good chaperone, though.”

  “Mamm—”

  Before Sharon could say another word, Edna joined them. She was probably ten years older than Marion, smelled like the peppermint candies she ate all the time, and rarely smiled.

  “Edna, gudemariye.”

  “And to you, Marion. I see Sharon is ready to go.” The woman’s false teeth clicked softly as she spoke.

  Sharon looked around at the other passengers. Maybe she could dart in between them and escape. But where would she go? None of her friends would take her in. Who was she kidding? She no longer had friends. They all believed James’s version of what had happened.

  James, who had abandoned her on the side of the road. James, who hadn’t really cared for her at all. James, who was the reason she was here being shuffled off to a distant land with people she didn’t even know.

  “I’m not going.” She realized in an instant that no one could force her to leave. Instead, she turned and began to walk back toward their buggy.

  “Sharon—”

  She could hear the bus pull in behind them. The door made a hissing sound as it opened, and passengers began shuffling forward. There were words of goodbye and the man collecting tickets asked for folks to make a line. Her mother called out her name again, but her feet seemed to have a will of their own. They kept moving toward the parking lot, toward safety, toward home.

  Suddenly she felt a hard grip close around her left arm.

  “Young lady, you turn yourself around this minute.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Oh, yes you will. We have already paid for this ticket, and you will use it.”

  “Is that all you care about? The money?” She’d told herself she wouldn’t cry, but her tears were like a faucet, and she was no longer in control of when they were turned on or off. “Admit it. You don’t care about me at all!”

  Marion pulled back, the look on her face suggesting she didn’t know her daughter anymore. That made two of them. Sharon didn’t recognize herself when she looked in the mirror. Unfortunately, Marion still didn’t let go of her arm.

  “Do you think so, Sharon? You think I don’t care? Do you think I don’t cry at night as I pray for you? Pray over what has happened and what is to come? May you never know the agony of praying for a dochder who has gone missing, who returns terrified, who is wasting away before—”

  Marion stopped. Lowering her voice, she said, “I love you, and that’s why I’m making sure you get on that bus.”

  “If you love me, let me stay.”

  “Sharon, get on the bus.”

  “Please, mamm. I’ll do whatever you ask, but don’t make me go.”

  Marion was pulling her now, dragging her like a small child and handing her over to Edna. “Get on the bus.”

  Sharon took one look at the older woman, who had pursed her lips as if she’d swallowed something distasteful.

  With a sigh that sounded even to her like a small animal caught in a trap, she turned away from them, squared her shoulders, and moved to the end of the line of passengers. The final few steps to the bus felt like a mile or more. Her mother stepped closer as Sharon moved to follow the others up the steps, close enough that when Sharon turned and spoke, even though it was a whisper, she was able to hear her quite well.

  “You don’t love me. You don’t love me any more than he did. If you loved me, you would never send me away.”

  Before her mother could answer, she turned and boarded the bus, walking down the long aisle of strangers.

  Chapter 18

  Sharon’s a gut girl,” Caleb said, as they waited outside the feed store for the bus to arrive. “I remember she used to sing in the school program. She has a beautiful voice.”

  “Ya?” Julia cornered herself in the buggy seat so she could better study her husband.

  Ada sat in the back, staring out the window at the occasional shopper who was braving the turn in the weather. Julia would have preferred to have left her mother at home because the wind was blowing cold today, but she had known when Ada walked down the stairs that leaving her alone wasn’t an option. After one glance at her mother this morning, with her prayer kapp on inside out, Julia had known what kind of day they were going to have. She’d asked Doc Hanson about these occasional spells of confusion, and he’d admitted it could be several things—the onset of a cold, mild dementia, or even an unsettling dream that had disoriented her on wakening.

  “Be patient with her, Julia. As long as her good days outnumber her bad, be grateful. And if you’re ever concerned, bring her into town or ask me to come out. You don’t need an appointment.”

  Ada’s confusion had lessened after eating breakfast, but Julia still recognized the symptoms. This was not going to be one of her better days. She didn’t want her to be alone in case she fell or became more disoriented.

  “There are a lot of boys in my onkel’s family.” Caleb was explaining. “Sharon and Ruthie were the only girls. Those two had to stick together.”

  “Sharon is seventeen?”

  “Ya. Hard to believe. Ruthie, she’s a small thing. She was barely talking when I moved to Wisconsin.” Caleb rubbed at his jaw where his beard had started growing. “No doubt Sharon will miss Ruthie while she’s here.”

  “Did your mamm give you any other details? Other than she needed to be somewhere else for a time?”

  “Nein. I think maybe in her next letter she’ll say more. Mamm isn’t too comfortable on the telephone.” Caleb buttoned his coat and tugged his gloves on as the bus pulled up. “I was surprised she called. I’ve phoned them a few times, but they’ve never phoned here. I knew it must be an emergency when they did.”


  Julia wondered what kind of emergency. She didn’t ask. How much trouble could one seventeen-year-old girl be? And it wasn’t as if they could or would say no. Family helped family.

  The bus was idling near the ticket booth, and the door had opened. Where were the passengers from? And what did they think of this cold, dreary Wisconsin weather?

  Caleb glanced over and gave her a reassuring smile as he reached for his hat and pushed it down tightly on his head.

  They could use Sharon’s help in the café. Caleb would be starting back at the grocery on Tuesday, three days a week. Julia would have her hands full with cooking, serving, and caring for her mother. They had talked of hiring help from the local girls, but Julia wanted to wait and see how many customers they would have, if any. Seth had helped put out flyers at local businesses, and she’d run an ad in the Budget. Would it be enough?

  As Caleb opened the buggy door to step out and walk toward the idling bus, Ada reached forward and plucked at his coat sleeve.

  “‘The words of the Lord are pure.’”

  Caleb patted her hand and smiled over at Julia. “That they are, Ada. That they are.”

  Something in Julia’s heart opened at that moment. Though she’d been sharing her bed with Caleb for three nights, and though they had been making plans together for nearly two months, there was a part of her she’d been holding back.

  There was a part of her that hadn’t been ready to completely trust him yet.

  It wasn’t only because men, or rather boys, had let her down in the past. It was because she’d been used to doing things on her own, and it was frightening to join herself emotionally with someone else. She understood that they were married for life, that their commitment was a permanent one, but she was still coming to terms with exactly what that meant.

  And her mother…

  Her mother was like her child in so many ways. While Caleb had always been polite and respectful, she still considered Ada to be her responsibility.

  Seeing him pat her mother’s hand and offer her a reassuring word before stepping out into the cold, and watching him deal with her on a bad day, Julia realized that her husband had already stepped further into this marriage than she had. His kindness toward her mother made her want to follow him out of the buggy, stand beside him in the cold, and wait for Sharon.

  Instead, she made sure Ada was covered with the lap blanket. She waited and prayed they could be the refuge Sharon needed.

  Caleb turned his back against the wind and peered up into the bus’s windows. It didn’t seem that long ago that he’d been the one stepping off the bus and onto the streets of Cashton, stepping into his life in Pebble Creek. He couldn’t help shaking his head. Things had certainly changed since then—and for the better!

  He didn’t know what was going on with Sharon’s situation, but he hoped she could find what she needed here among the people of their district.

  The bus driver exited through the open door and retrieved a single bag from the underside storage compartment. At least Caleb wouldn’t have to figure out which passenger was Sharon, as it seemed only one person was exiting.

  From what he remembered, she was an energetic, healthy girl. Chestnut hair, laughing brown eyes, and cheeks that had a sprinkling of freckles across them. He drew a blank after that, but he was praying Julia and Sharon would become close friends.

  Slowly an old woman made her way down the stairs of the bus. Caleb immediately recognized Edna Hostetler. She was one of the oldest and sternest widows in their district. He moved forward quickly to help her down the final step.

  “Edna, mamm didn’t mention you were coming.”

  “I’m not coming to Cashton, Caleb.” Every detail of the woman’s hair and dress was perfectly in place. No one would have guessed she’d been on a bus since early that morning. “I’m chaperoning Sharon, is all. My destination is Minnesota.”

  “Oh.” Before Caleb could think of anything else to say, a shadow of a girl appeared in the bus’s doorway. It was Sharon…and it wasn’t.

  She had grown at least two inches taller than the last time he’d seen her, and perhaps that was part of the reason she looked so thin. Caleb had the feeling she might blow away in the winter wind. Her clothes draped on her, like a coat on a hook. Dark circles rimmed her eyes. She glanced at him once and then stared down at the ground.

  “Hurry, girl. The driver is ready to leave.” Edna turned to Caleb. “She only has the one bag. Be sure you write to your parents this evening to tell them she arrived safely. I informed them we would only call if there was a problem. There is no need to use those contraptions every time one feels a need to communicate. A pencil and piece of paper will serve fine.”

  Turning to Sharon, she sniffed once and then said, “I hope your stay here is better than this morning’s beginning.”

  Did Caleb imagine it, or did Sharon flinch?

  Edna turned and climbed back up the steps of the bus.

  The bus driver handed the single piece of luggage to Caleb and then followed Edna. In less time than it took Red to eat a handful of oats, the bus was gone.

  Caleb waited until Sharon glanced up. When she did, he smiled and said, “Welcome to Pebble Creek.”

  She didn’t even blink, so he gestured to the waiting buggy. She followed him, though he wondered if she would. She seemed glued to the spot, practically incapable of moving. Perhaps the wind had something to do with it.

  She crept along behind him, and when they reached the buggy, she climbed into the backseat without a word.

  Caleb placed her bag in the compartment at the rear. When he joined the women inside, Julia was attempting to make conversation. He glanced once at his bride, shrugged, and called out to Red. The soothing sounds of his gelding’s hooves clip-clopping down the road soon filled the afternoon.

  Caleb stretched his arm across the seat, allowing his hand to lightly brush Julia’s neck. He had noticed she seemed to relax when he touched her, and he made it a point to do so whenever possible.

  The road curved closer to Pebble Creek, and Caleb slowed the buggy so he could watch the water play over and around the rocks. He hadn’t fished in several days and could feel the pull, though the temperature and wind today would have been large enough deterrents even if the work at home hadn’t stopped him.

  “Maybe there will be time tomorrow afternoon,” Julia said, following his thoughts perfectly.

  “Ya. Fish would be gut for dinner.”

  Ada leaned forward, reminding Caleb of a faithful hunting dog he’d had back in Indiana. Not that he would ever compare his mother-in-law to a hunting dog. It was only that the way she had of popping up out of the backseat made him think of Blaze. Perhaps he should talk to Julia about getting a pup. He’d heard Miriam mention that her father sometimes had a litter for sale.

  “‘The Lord blesses His people with peace,’” Ada announced. When Caleb and Julia glanced at her and nodded in agreement, she sat back, satisfied.

  Caleb chuckled, realizing their conversation might sound somewhat odd to his cousin.

  “Ada’s an expert on the Psalms, Sharon.” As far as he could tell, the girl still hadn’t spoken, but he continued as if she had. “I’ve learned quite a lot about the psalmists’ writing in the two months since Julia and I began courting.”

  “You only courted two months?”

  So she could speak.

  “Actually it hasn’t quite been two months,” Julia murmured.

  “No?”

  “Just over six weeks.”

  “You don’t say?” Caleb directed the buggy past the new sign, down their lane, and stopped in front of the house to let the women out.

  “Six weeks.” He glanced back and saw his young cousin staring at them in surprise. “I guess you’re right. Sharon, I’ll fetch your bag. You all get out here so Ada doesn’t have to walk through the wind.”

  After setting the bag inside the front door, Caleb returned to the buggy and drove it to the barn. He couldn’t
help smiling over the expression on Sharon’s face. Apparently, she hadn’t realized the café was in their home. She’d stood in the entryway, staring left and right, as Ada had thumped past her with her cane—mumbling more verses from the Bible and declaring it a good evening for Julia’s thick potato soup.

  Chapter 19

  Sharon gawked at the room where she was supposed to sleep. Sharing a room with Ada was one thing. Sharing a bed was a different thing altogether.

  “I’m sorry, Sharon.” Julia stepped forward and opened an empty dresser drawer. “I wish we had better arrangements, but Caleb assured me this would be fine—and anyway, it’s all we have.”

  Even at home she’d had her own bed in the room she’d shared with Ruthie. How was she to sleep in a double bed with an old woman? Ada wasn’t just old; she was ancient. She looked as if she might die at any moment. What if she died while Sharon was asleep in the bed?

  Sharon stood as if frozen at the entrance to the room, unable to move forward.

  “The bathroom is down the hall, and there’s another half bath downstairs. The room before mine is where we’ve set up our sitting area, for reading and such.” Julia turned around and clasped her hands in front of her.

  Sharon almost felt sorry for her cousin’s wife. Almost. But she didn’t. If Julia and Caleb had said she couldn’t visit, she would still be in Monroe, Indiana, tonight. If they had said no, she wouldn’t be sharing a bed with an old woman she didn’t even know.

  “I should go down and see to that soup. We’ll eat in fifteen minutes.” Julia walked past her and paused outside the door. “If there’s anything you need, I hope you’ll ask. We want to do whatever we can to make your stay with us easier.”

  Sharon had to look away then, ashamed of her anger and her bitterness. She wasn’t that person, but who was she? The silence had become a humming in her head, and some days it was all she could do to hear others over it, to even speak at all.

  “Danki,” she whispered.

  “Gem gschehne.” The words were passed as delicately as a dozen fresh eggs, and then Julia was gone.