by Sarah Price
A deep noise that sounded as though he were growling came from his throat. But he did not formulate a reply.
“I won’t, you know.” She sat back against the seat and stared out the front windshield. “Besides, our banns were announced after worship on Sunday last.”
To her surprise, he responded right away. “I do know. I was there.”
Upon hearing his words, Belle caught her breath. Adam had been there? Impossible. She knew everyone who had been at worship and did not see any strangers. Nor had anyone else mentioned that he was there. “You were not!”
He chuckled under his breath. “Are you sure of that, Belle?”
“Quite! I didn’t see you, and others would certainly have mentioned it if you’d shown up!”
He glanced at her, just enough so that she could fully see the unmarked left side of his face. He appeared to be smiling. “I imagine they would have, wouldn’t they? When the beast shows up, people talk. Adults and children alike, ja?”
The beast. Her mouth opened, just slightly, at the derogatory reference to himself. “You know about that, then? That they call you such things?”
Ignoring her question, Adam continued. “I was in the back of the room, where no one could see me. It wasn’t the first time that I have attended worship service without being detected.” Again, she thought she saw the side of his mouth twist into a smile, and she wondered if he was telling the truth. “You’d be surprised at how easy it is to live in shadows that most people don’t even realize are there.”
She lifted her chin. “Perhaps it’s time to step out of the shadows, Adam. Mayhaps it’s the mystery of who you are that creates the myth that entertains so many people.”
“So many? Not all?”
“Not me.”
“Ah!”
Belle waited, expecting him to comment further. But he did not.
Finally, she cleared her throat. “The invitations have been delivered.” She paused and stared at the dark form across from her. “At least mine have, anyway. You should’ve been the one to deliver them, you know.”
Silence.
“And . . . and I . . .”
“You what?” Another quick, stolen glance. “What vexes you?”
She pressed her lips together and wrung her hands on her lap. “I’ve never planned a wedding,” she offered meekly. “I only know a little bit about what needs to be done.”
“It’s just a ceremony,” he growled.
“It’s supposed to be a celebration.”
“Keep it small.”
Once again, Belle felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Amish weddings were normally happy occasions with well over three hundred people in attendance. When she was growing up, she had envisioned sitting at the eck table, the table set in the corner for the bride and groom to sit at while they greeted each of their guests during the long fellowship meal. In all of those years, not once had she dreamt of marrying a man whose face she had never seen.
“Small or not, Daed has no money to buy food, linens, or tableware. I’ll borrow what I can, but . . .” She let her voice fade, the sentence unfinished. It wasn’t unusual to borrow plates and utensils from the rest of the community. At regular-sized weddings, no family could have enough settings to accommodate the guests. Nowadays, many young couples took advantage of rental companies that would provide everything, including the cleanup. But Belle knew that her father could not afford that. He was already stretching his last bit of credit to host the wedding at their house, even if she abided by Adam’s demand to keep it small.
“I see.” He sounded contemplative and thoughtful, as if he were deep in thought. “Much more complicated than I expected.”
Complicated? Under different circumstances, she might have laughed at the irony of his statement. But she refrained from doing so. Marriage alone was complicated. While she had few memories of her own parents’ marriage, she had lived through seeing how complicated her father’s life had become following his wife’s death. She’d also seen how Ella Troyer and Sadie Whitaker’s fathers suffered after their wives passed away. And she could see how other couples struggled. No matter how much people tried to wear a mask of serenity, the hidden undercurrents always peeked through.
But to hear Adam comment about complications? She knew that their marriage, one of convenience for him and survival for her, would prove to be the most complicated of all.
“I will take care of it,” he said as he pulled the horse to a stop outside of the feed and grain store.
His vague proclamation caught her off guard. “Take care of what exactly?”
“Everything.” He shifted his weight and slid open the door before he stepped down, turning his body just enough so that his right side remained out of her sight. “I will take care of everything.”
For a moment, she stared at him as he stood by the open buggy door. It was her first real glimpse of the man that she knew so little about yet had promised to spend the rest of her life with, as his wife. She was surprised at how tall he was and at how broad his shoulders were. She suspected he was very strong. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, white and pressed. She wondered who did his laundry. Certainly not him! His dark hair was long and a deep mahogany brown, with loose curls hanging past his ears and neck. And she could see that his face, what she could glimpse of it, was a deep tan from having worked outside in the sun.
She sat in the buggy, watching as he walked into the store. His body filled the doorway before he passed through it. A shiver traveled down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself. He would take care of the food? The linens? She had no idea what he meant, but she certainly did not want to push the issue. As it was, the wedding would be small. She had contemplated not even having a wedding, but she knew that the curiosity of the community needed to be quenched. Besides, as far as she knew, this would be her one and only wedding. She deserved to have something special on this day, even if she didn’t feel like celebrating at all.
“Belle?”
She turned in the direction of the new voice. “Gabriel?”
Hesitantly, he approached the buggy, his eyes staring directly into hers. “What are you doing in Hershberger’s buggy?” He spoke in a hushed whisper.
His questioning caught her off guard. For a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder: What was she doing in his buggy? And then, she realized that, in just a few short days, her place would be beside Adam for the rest of her life. “He’s taking me home,” she responded at last.
Gabriel, however, didn’t seem to understand that she was in the buggy voluntarily. “Get down from there.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the door and waved his hand. “Hurry, Belle.”
“Gabriel . . .”
He reached for her hand and gently tugged. “Kum, Belle. Whatever is going on, I will help you.”
Before she could fight back, she felt Gabriel release her hold as he fell backward onto the dry, dusty road. “Unhand her!” Adam hovered over Gabriel. His legs were spread apart and he appeared prepared to knock down Gabriel once again if he made a move in Belle’s direction. She could only see Adam’s back, but his muscles flexed underneath his white shirt. “You have no business speaking to my fraa.”
Gabriel scrambled backward, away from Adam. Belle knew that, from his vantage point, Gabriel could certainly see all of Adam’s face. His expression told her that clearly enough. Getting to his feet, he glared at the man standing before him. “You . . . you . . .”
“What?” Adam took a step forward. “Monster? Beast? Say it and you’ll be back on the ground.”
“She’s not your fraa yet,” Gabriel spat out. He glanced in Belle’s direction, pleading with her. “You cannot mean to do this!”
Belle turned her head away from Gabriel, knowing that she couldn’t speak, for her words would give away her true feelings. She did not want to marry Adam Hershberger any more than she had wanted to encourage Gabriel. However, now she had no choice.
Adam waited until Gabriel had picked himsel
f up and departed before he returned to the buggy and shut her door as if to protect her from any further altercations. Then he walked back to the driver’s side door. When he climbed up and into the buggy, it jostled under his weight, and she rolled toward him, her arm brushing against him. Quickly, she scurried away, pressing her body against the door frame.
They rode away from town in silence, Belle staring at nothing as she quietly let the tears fall down her cheeks. Oh, what she would have done to turn back the hands of the clock, to have let Gabriel court her and perhaps even woo her to the altar, if that would have helped her father. But it was too late and she had made that promise. “When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not to pay it; for he hath no pleasure in fools: pay that which thou hast vowed. Better is it that thou shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.”
“You’re crying.”
It wasn’t a question but an observation. Belle didn’t turn to look at him as she nodded her head once. “Ja, I am.”
He made a noise deep in his throat again, only this one was not rough or angry as it had been earlier. Instead, there was a hint of understanding. For the next fifteen minutes, he remained silent, until he stopped the buggy in front of her driveway.
“Go home, Belle.” There was something soft about his voice when he spoke her name. He leaned forward, reaching across her lap as he slid open the door to the buggy. “Take advantage of this time to enjoy your family and friends before next Thursday.” He paused. “Our wedding day.”
At the mention of their wedding, she shuddered, realizing that she was not about to wake up and find that all of this was just a bad dream. Quickly, she jumped down from the buggy and steadied herself on the side of the road. She started to look up, trying to think of something to say to him, but he was already driving away, the noise of the wheels and the horse’s hooves thudding on the road, too loud for him to hear any words that she might possibly have dreamed up.
She swallowed and turned toward the driveway that led to her father’s house, the house that she had bought with the single commitment to marry and bear a son. Adam was right. She needed to take advantage of the little time that she had left before she became a stranger’s wife in a completely new life.
Chapter Nine
“You don’t have to do this.”
Belle finished pinning her white apron over her light blue dress. She kept her expression unchanged at her sister’s words. It was hard, however. Ever since the banns had been announced at church, she was growing increasingly tired of hearing those same six words. You-don’t-have-to-do-this. From her family. From her friends. From anyone she met in the community on her increasingly infrequent trips to town. For the past few days, she had avoided leaving the house. Whenever she heard those words, she felt the urge to cry. But her tears had dried up, leaving her feeling as if she were merely walking through the motions of everyday life. She could no longer explain herself or her reasons. Instead, she adopted the typical Amish stance of silence rather than responding.
Usually that was enough to make people stop speaking about the uncomfortable topic.
Not this time.
“Hand me my prayer kapp, please,” she said to Verna. “Danke.”
Carefully, Belle placed it on her head and, using a single straight pin, fastened it to the thin white hair band she wore over her hair to help keep her kapp from sliding off her head.
Glancing in the small mirror that hung on her bedroom wall, Belle noticed how pale her cheeks looked. She pinched them twice, hoping that they might regain some color. Her eyes were no longer red or puffy from crying. The dark circles had disappeared, even though she hadn’t slept properly in almost two weeks. Despite all of this, she could hardly believe that today was her wedding day.
“I reckon I’m ready then.”
“Belle . . .”
Turning to face Verna, she forced a smile. “Don’t. Please.”
From the open doorway, she could hear the people who were gathered downstairs. The women were in the house, while the men waited outside for the bishop and preachers to indicate that it was time to begin the service. Belle knew that she would have to join the women, to greet them with a holy kiss as they did before each church service, whether it was on a Sunday or at a wedding or a funeral.
“It’s time to go downstairs, ja?” Belle took one quick look around the room. The next time she entered it, she would be Belle Hershberger, or, as the Amish typically referred to married women, Adam’s Belle. She no longer shuddered at the thought. The days for regret were long past, even though she still felt as if she were living a bad dream.
When she walked down the stairs, she was surprised to see that the church benches were set up in the main kitchen and living area. One of the walls had been removed in order to accommodate all of the people. The women stood in the kitchen and became quiet when Belle appeared at the foot of the stairs. Ignoring the unusual silence, Belle straightened her shoulders and went about the task of greeting each woman with a simultaneous kiss and handshake. She avoided looking in their eyes as she hurried through the greeting line and assumed her place at the end. Fortunately, no one else arrived, so she did not have to greet any more women.
Slowly, the murmur of the women’s voices began to rise once again. Her nerves settled down and she tried to appear normal, if such a thing was possible. She wondered if Adam was outside with the men. She wondered if he, too, had greeted the men in the same manner she’d greeted the women. Or if he would wait to enter the house until all of the men were situated.
Ten minutes passed before the kitchen door opened and the bishop walked inside. He paused, glancing at the women until his eyes rested upon Belle. She watched as he walked along the waiting line of women, shaking each one’s hand until he came to her. He held her hand in his for a moment longer than normal. She knew what he was thinking—those same six words that she despised hearing—but he said nothing, for which Belle was grateful.
The bishop and his preachers assumed their normal positions in the middle of the room, sitting on the chairs that faced the women’s side. Immediately, the women began to walk single file to their places, the older ones first, followed by the younger women. This would be the last time that Belle would sit among the unmarried ones. After the wedding ceremony, she would join the younger married women, assuming her place among them as they sat upon the plain benches in order of their age.
After the women were seated, the kitchen door opened again and the men began to walk through the kitchen to sit on the benches behind the church leaders’ chairs. When everyone was in their place, the men reached for their hats and removed them, placing them under their seats, the motion like a swift wave throughout the room.
Belle fought the urge to search for Adam among the unmarried men. She had never seen him at a church service, and her curiosity got the best of her. Even though she faced the front of the room, with her head turned toward the bishop, her eyes scanned the men, searching for Adam Hershberger.
He was not there.
For a moment, she wondered if he might have changed his mind. Her heart began to beat rapidly and her palms began to sweat. What would happen if he did not show up? she wondered. She had never heard of such a thing happening. Would it reflect poorly on her if he abandoned the notion of taking her as his wife? What would happen to her father’s farm? She felt torn between being hopeful and discouraged. She had followed through on her part; would Adam follow through on his?
The vorsinger, the man assigned to lead the congregation in song, began to sing a hymn, and the rest of the congregation lifted their voices to sing with him as the church leaders stood and left the room. For the next twenty-five minutes, the congregation sang, each syllable of every word being drawn out as was the custom. By the end of the hymn, the bishop and his preachers would return. What they discussed in the back room, Belle had no idea. However, she knew they were deciding which of them would preach the two sermons during the worship service.
&nbs
p; As luck would have it, the bishop began to preach first. He had been chosen to preach the shorter of the two sermons. Belle could hardly listen to his words as she continued peering about the room to see if Adam had arrived. She felt Ella shift her weight on the bench beside her, gently brushing her hand against Belle’s knee in a soft gesture of comfort. Belle glanced at her and saw sympathy in her friend’s eyes. Farther down the bench, Sadie Whitaker gave her a smile of encouragement, and Belle knew that they, too, were wondering what would happen if Adam did not show up.
After the second hymn, “Das Loblieb,” one of the preachers stood up to preach. Belle began to fidget, knowing that, when he finished, another hymn would be sung. Typically, that was the time when the bride and groom would leave the room with the bishop for counseling. However, as far as she could tell, Adam had still not arrived. Would the bishop go through with the wedding if he did not counsel them about their upcoming married life?
By the time the preacher finished, Belle felt as if she might jump out of her skin. She knew that her hands were trembling, so she clutched them in her lap. As the hymn started, the bishop stood and walked out of the room, pausing for just a moment to indicate that Belle should follow him. Surprised, she hesitated before getting to her feet. Somehow she found the strength to make her way toward the bishop, who waited at the door for her to join him outside.
“Let’s take a walk to the barn, shall we?”
Nervously, she wrung her hands before herself as she walked behind the bishop. Surely he would tell her what to expect now that Adam had not arrived. Typically, it was after the final hymn that the bishop would lead the couple back into the room and begin the wedding ceremony. That would be impossible without a groom.
She let her eyes adjust to the darkness in the barn. Three chairs were set in a circle among the hay bales. The bishop walked toward them and sat down. He gestured toward one of the chairs facing him, and Belle realized that he wanted her to sit with him.
