Amanda Weds a Good Man

by Naomi King

  But we’ll work it out with Your help, Lord, she prayed as Vernon’s “amen” ended the silence.

  Moments later the Cedar Creek bishop pronounced them man and wife. When the roomful of guests rose from the benches to congratulate them, the noise level grew deafening, so Wyman led her outside to accept everyone’s best wishes. They had barely crossed the threshold before he grabbed her up for a long, exhilarating kiss.

  “I thought church would never end,” he murmured. “This day will live forever in my heart, Amanda. I’m so happy that you’re finally mine.”

  Their friends and family members spilled out into the large yard, soaking up the warm October sunshine. Children raced around the trees, glad to be making noise and moving after the double church service. As Wyman introduced many friends and family from out of town, Amanda got lost in the blur of faces and names. Out of habit she glanced around to check on her kids. Lizzie and Vera had their little sisters with them as they clustered with other teenage girls, while the boys gathered near the white plank fence to look out over Matt Lambright’s flock of sheep. Two Border collies were allowing Simon to pat their black and white heads. . . .

  “All ready for the big move?” Eunice Graber adjusted her thick glasses, peering up at Amanda as she stood beside Emma. “How’s your nephew going to fare in Bloomingdale all by himself?”

  Amanda detected Emma’s impatience with her mother’s question, but it deserved an answer. “We’re leaving Jerome with plenty of food and furniture and what-not,” she replied loudly, sensing Eunice didn’t hear very well. “He’s a busy fellow these days. He’ll have his mules—”

  “And once I finish training this team I’m working with now,” Jerome cut in as he joined them, “I can spend the winter finding somebody to court. Emma, shall we make our way to the greenhouse? I can smell the roast and I’m ready to eat!”

  “Jah, you young folks go along now,” Eunice insisted, shooing them with her hands. “And you newlyweds, too! They won’t serve the rest of us until you’re at the eck with your plates loaded!”

  Amanda shared a smile with Wyman. He wasn’t used to being told where to go, or having an older woman give him instructions . . . but he’d be putting up with that when Jemima joined them, too, wouldn’t he? They made their way across the green lawn, now strewn with colorful autumn leaves.

  As they stepped inside the greenhouse, the helpers’ applause and congratulations rang around the high glass walls. “Oh, but this room looks like something from a storybook,” Amanda murmured as Wyman pulled out her chair. “Such a pretty cake . . . and Treva’s potted mums . . . and all these folks seeing to the food . . .”

  “The Lambrights have done us a huge favor,” Wyman agreed. “All of these Cedar Creek folks have gotten us off to a gut start, and I believe it’s a sign of our life to come.”

  Once again Amanda met her new husband’s gaze, praying he was right. Her fondest wish was that this affection between them would blossom into the kind of marriage that—

  “Hah, hah! Can’t catch me!” a familiar voice rang out.

  Amanda looked across the room to see Simon ducking behind one of the long, set tables, hidden by its white tablecloth. Cora, Dora, and Rosemary’s Katie entered the greenhouse in his wake, giggling. As Wyman rose to reprimand his son, Amanda cringed in anticipation: the boy had grabbed the tablecloth’s corner, and when he took out running again, he didn’t think to let go of it. Simon had darted about ten feet down the narrow aisle between tables before the loud crash of china and the horrified cries of the servers made him realize what he’d done.

  “Simon! Stop!” Wyman ordered as he hurried from the eck.

  The boy froze, but the damage was done. Water glasses and celery centerpieces lay shattered on the concrete floor while plates of pie were cascading down the side of the tablecloth. Amid the clatter of falling silverware and the toppling of potted mums, Abby and Barbara Lambright ran for brooms. Rosemary snatched up her little girl while Emma herded Cora and Dora away from the shattered glass. Amid the cries of alarm and scurrying to clean up the untimely mess, Wyman grabbed his youngest son by the back of his suspenders and steered him outside.

  Amanda sat speechless, stunned at the chaos Simon had created in mere seconds. She was his mamm now, so it was her place to clean up after him, but Abby held up her hand when Amanda stood up to help.

  “Don’t you worry about a thing,” Abby said with a wave of her dustpan. “No sense in any more of us stepping in this glass.”

  “Seems to me we should just pick up the corners of the tablecloth and let everything fall to the middle of it,” Barbara suggested. “Treva, if you and Lois could fetch twelve place settings from the house and a couple of tablecloths out of my buffet, we’ll be set up again in no time.”

  Twelve place settings . . . two whole pies wasted . . . potting soil and mums mixed in with all the broken glasses and silverware that would have to be sorted out later. While indeed, the dinner plates were stacked on the buffet table, and the glasses and pie plates had come from a wedding wagon that circulated among families in the district, rather than from the Lambrights’ kitchen, those items would need to be replaced. In the blink of an eye, her wedding had turned into a disaster. . . .

  “My stars, but that Brubaker boy came through like a tornado,” she heard one of the Cedar Creek helpers remark. “A boy that age should know better.”

  “He’s had no mamm to train him up,” Lois Yutzy replied. “He wasn’t but three when Viola died.”

  “Going to be another sort of storm altogether when all those kids get thrown together at Wyman’s place.” Beulah Mae Nissley lifted her corner of the tablecloth as the women heaved the heavy, wet mess into a wagon Abby had wheeled over.

  The women’s voices sounded an ominous warning. . . .

  But the sight of twin kapps and purple dresses near the buffet table brought Amanda out of her momentary daze. Maybe she didn’t need to help with the cleanup, but it was her place to discuss this situation with Cora and Dora. Carefully stepping around Emma and the Lambright women, who were resetting the table, Amanda strode to the other end of the room where her three daughters stood beside Jemima.

  “So what’s the story here?” Amanda asked in a low, purposeful voice. She crouched so she was at eye level with her twins. “You said you knew better than to let Simon get you in trouble.”

  “I’m sorry, Mamm. I should’ve been paying closer attention,” Lizzie gushed, while Dora and Cora burst into tears and grabbed each other’s hands.

  “Let this be a lesson learned,” their grandmother remarked. “You girls don’t know all these folks, but they certainly know who you are. And they’ll be watching you now. So will you follow your new brother’s bad example? Or will you lead Simon to behave the way your mamm has raised you?”

  Wiping their faces on their sleeves, the twins looked from Jemima to Amanda with wide, solemn eyes. “We’ll be gut now,” Cora said with a loud sniffle.

  “Jah, we don’t want no more of Simon’s trouble.” Dora gazed toward the back door. “Did he get a spankin’?”

  Amanda bit back a smile. Her girls had been easy to discipline with warnings and stern looks, so the prospect of getting their backsides warmed seemed like the ultimate threat. “You’ll have to ask him. Meanwhile, your new dat and I must sit up front with the wedding party. It’s your job to be perfect girls for Lizzie and your mammi now.”

  “Jah, we will,” they said, bobbing their heads. They each reached for Jemima’s hands, the picture of contrition.

  Amanda rose to her full height again when she saw Wyman coming inside, alone. Guests were forming a line at the buffet table, and because the Lambright women had made quick work of resetting the ruined table, the celebration continued as though nothing had interrupted it.

  What a blessing, to have such gut friends, Amanda mused as she returned to the eck. As Wyman pulled out
her chair, Amanda studied his face for signs of how his session with Simon had gone. The furrow in his brow disappeared as he held her gaze.

  “I’ve put Eddie in charge of his little brother.” As Wyman sat down beside her, a secretive smile lit his face. “I’ve been keeping a surprise for later, but maybe now’s the time to let you in on it, Amanda.”

  She folded her hands and remained quiet.

  Wyman chuckled. “I take it you’ve had enough surprises for one day? Like I have?”

  Amanda felt the joy of their celebration returning. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got in mind, Wyman. Your surprises are always the best kind.”

  “Well, then—” He flashed Sam a thumbs-up when the preacher waved at him from across the large, noisy room. “Rather than you and me returning home, we’ll be staying here with the Lambrights tonight—”

  Amanda’s pulse raced with all sorts of practical objections. “But—”

  “Abby has seen to all the details,” Wyman insisted. “She’s letting us stay at her house. Meanwhile, Vera will be in charge of the Brubaker bunch and Jerome and Jemima will be taking your girls home tonight. This also puts us here for the cleaning up in the morning,” he pointed out. “That’s our part of the bargain as the bride and groom.”

  “Jah, of course it is. But I don’t have a change of clothes—”

  “Lizzie packed you a suitcase,” he replied, obviously delighted that these details were taken care of. “She and Vera were behind this idea, and everyone else agreed it was the perfect gift. Just the two of us . . . alone together on our wedding night.”

  Amanda’s heart pounded and her mind spun with a hundred questions. “But how did they all keep such a secret? Cora and Dora didn’t let out a peep about—”

  “Just the older kids and adults know,” he clarified. “Sam and Matt have also offered to be at your place early Saturday morning with stock wagons to help move your belongings to Clearwater. James and Abby are in on that, as well. So once again, God and our gut friends are getting us off to a fine start, Amanda. Don’t you think?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t think. “Oh, my,” she whispered. “I—I didn’t see any of this coming.”

  Amanda was vaguely aware that Jerome and Emma were taking their seats beside her while Wyman’s brother Otto and his wife, their other sidesitters, sat down at the other end of the eck.

  “Here’s the first plates for the bride and groom,” Barbara Lambright said as she set the steaming meals in front of them. “Not that you newlyweds look the least bit concerned about food.”

  It was true. With Wyman’s hands enveloping hers as he gazed at her, Amanda lost all track of everything except how wonderful he was and how happy he had made her. Never in her wildest dreams had she figured on having her husband all to herself tonight—not with so many last-minute moving details, and eight kids, and—

  My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness . . .

  As the verse about Christ’s power sprang to mind, Amanda knew the words to be true. Weakness, helplessness, a sense of being overwhelmed . . . hadn’t she known all of those feelings these past few minutes—and for the past several weeks? Yet with God’s help—and her friends pitching in—her new life as Wyman Brubaker’s wife would be a witness to the Lord’s ability to make everything come out just right, wouldn’t it?

  Amanda exhaled. She set aside her misgivings and the women’s negative musings about Simon. The first bite of the savory “roast”—a combination of baked chicken and stuffing—made her realize how ravenous she was. The voices around her attested to the friends in her life while the tall, white cake displayed on the table stood as a tribute. This was indeed the day to celebrate her love for Wyman Brubaker, and he was seated beside her with desire and affection written all over his handsome face.

  That’s all she needed to know.

  Chapter Eight

  James waved Sam and Matt ahead of him in their wagons, and then clapped the reins on his Belgian’s back to fall in line behind them. The sturdy clip-clop, clip-clop of the draft horses’ hooves on the county blacktop cut through the early-morning fog and accentuated his own heartbeat, for Abby sat on the seat beside him. As they passed the Ropps’ dairy farm to turn onto the highway, she wrapped her shawl tighter and smiled at the black-and-white Holsteins milling around in the misty barnyard.

  Who needs sunshine? he mused. I’ve got this woman beside me. . . .

  James reached for Abby’s hand. “And how did the newlyweds fare, staying at your place Thursday night?”

  Abby’s cheeks turned bright pink. “And how would I know about that? I was busy setting Mamm’s greenhouse to rights, and— Well, it’s not like I was peeking in the windows!”

  James chided himself for phrasing his question that way, yet Abby’s spin on it tickled him: he hadn’t been thinking about Amanda and Wyman’s intimate relations, particularly, but she had. While Abby’s modesty pleased him, he was also glad she wasn’t upset about this turn in their conversation. Just flustered, she was . . . and it wasn’t often he saw her that way.

  “Of course you weren’t peeking.” He elbowed her playfully. “I put in a full day at the shop Friday, so I didn’t get to see them, while you were clearing away the wedding mess.”

  “Ah.” Her smile returned as she considered her answer. “Let’s just say they hardly noticed the rest of us were there. It’s gut of you to take time off from your shop to move them,” she remarked. “Over and over, Amanda and Wyman said how they appreciated receiving so much help from their Cedar Creek friends.”

  “I tried to convince Emma to come along, but she wanted Dat to dig the last of the carrots and potatoes while we’ve got this warm weather.”

  Abby’s lips twitched. “She’s avoiding Jerome. But from what I could see at the wedding, he thinks your sister’s the sweetest thing since whoopie pies.”

  James smiled at this turn of phrase. “My sister has a way of throwing up her defenses, ain’t so? Doesn’t help that our parents keep quizzing her about why she’s so dead set against Jerome. Reminding her that all the fellows hereabouts are getting claimed.”

  Once again Abby’s expression wilted. “Nobody likes to feel she’s being left behind, without anyone gut to choose from. It was hard on Emma, helping with weddings three weeks in a row.”

  James gazed ahead of them into the fog, to be sure he saw where Sam’s wagon turned off the highway to go toward Bloomingdale. Once again he’d managed to be alone with Abby, yet somehow the conversation had taken anything but a romantic turn. He searched for a happier topic, hoping to put the smile back on his best friend’s pretty face. Wasn’t this hour-long drive the perfect time to discuss their future? “Abby, now that those other weddings are behind us—”

  “Watch out for those deer!” she blurted.

  He tugged on the reins, peering ahead. Sure enough, a huge buck sprinted out of the heavily misted woods where she was pointing, to cross the highway not ten feet in front of them.

  “Whoa there, Karl.” James pulled harder on the traces when the horse began to stomp and shake his head. His Belgian was a levelheaded animal, but the buck’s large rack and sudden appearance were enough to startle any creature. James didn’t want to think about the nasty wreck they might’ve had if Abby hadn’t warned him.

  “I see a couple of does,” she murmured. “Waiting to follow their boyfriend, no doubt.”

  James held steady on the reins while the horse nervously paced the same few inches, forward and back. At last the other two deer bolted across the road, and Karl settled down. When they started up again, James let out the breath he’d been holding.

  “Glad you spotted that buck,” he murmured. “I once saw a car after it hit a big deer. The windshield was shattered and the driver lost control. Hit a power pole, he did. Thank the Lord—and you, Abby—we didn’t have the same sor
t of collision with Karl.”

  “It might take a while for my heartbeat to get back to normal,” she replied in a breathy voice.

  They rode in silence for several minutes, peering ahead into the dense fog that obscured the road, as well as watching the woods for more deer. Abby leaned forward, pointing to where the pavement curved around a hilly embankment. “Sam’s turning right up ahead. It’s been a long while since I’ve visited Amanda’s place—and everything looks different in this fog—so I’m not much help at finding it.”

  “You know more about where she lives than I do,” James admitted. “That’s why I let Sam and Matt go ahead of me.”

  He spotted the one-lane side road then, and watched Matt’s wagon turn there. “Gee,” he instructed, and as soon as their wagon was safely off the highway, he pulled the horse to a halt.

  Abby searched his face. “Is everything all right, James? I’m sorry if I scared you by hollering out—”

  “Abby.” James framed her dear face with his hands, settling himself by gazing at her wide brown eyes . . . her parted lips and slightly upturned nose. His insides twisted at the thought of her being thrown from the seat to the side of the road, had they collided with that big buck. “Where would I be without you looking after me?” he asked softly. “Where would I be without you?”

  Abby stilled. Then she gave him a tremulous smile. “No need to worry about that, James. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you, anyway.”

  His heart thrummed. He gave thanks for this wonderful woman and knew that even though they would be working hard, loading Amanda’s belongings, the day would seem shorter and less strenuous because she had come with him.

  They continued down the narrow dirt road and then turned in between wooden fence posts that had seen better days. As they headed up the rutted lane to Amanda’s farmhouse, they emerged from the fog.