by Sarah Price
Their courtship had gone by quickly, just six months of singings, long walks, and buggy rides. Samuel had lived up to his promises and worked hard at proving himself honorable. Even Amos Smucker had noticed and nodded his head in favor of the new Samuel. So when the early spring baptism had come and gone, no one was surprised that the bishop had announced Samuel and Mary Ruth’s upcoming marriage.
That had only been three weeks ago. From the time their wedding was announced until this very moment when they were standing on the porch of their new home, clinging to the final moments of this wonderful day, time had seemed to fly by on wings of happiness.
“Will it take a while to seem like home?” she repeated his question, breaking the silence. “Nee. Not if you are here with me. Then it will seem like home right away.” She hesitated, rocking on her heels so that she bumped gently against him. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time, Samuel Lapp.”
“When did you know you wanted to marry me, Mary Ruth?” he heard himself ask.
“Oh Samuel, that’s not so important now, is it?” she asked, her voice soft. She was embarrassed and that intrigued him even more.
“Tell me, dear wife,” he teased.
She hesitated, trying to find the right way to tell him. He let her ponder the question as it gave him time to just enjoy being in her presence. Their time alone had always been very short lived, strictly limited to buggy rides or walks. When they enjoyed fellowship together, it had been after church service or with other family members. Just standing alone, holding hands under the glow of the stars and moon, was a completely new experience for him.
“Die Wahrehti ist untodlich,” she whispered.
For a moment, Samuel thought that he had misheard her. The truth cannot be killed? It was an old Amish saying, spoken from the lips of an Anabaptist martyr in the 17th century. “What does Balthasar Hubmaier have to do with marrying me?”
“You said it to my father when you came to talk to me about your troubles,” she said.
He frowned. “You knew you wanted to marry me then?”
She shook her head. “No silly. That’s when I knew you were telling the truth about not being involved with the accident. You were sending me a sign when you said ‘Die Wahrehti ist untodlich’, ja?”
Now he was truly perplexed. He wasn’t following what she was saying. A sign? “I don’t understand, Mary Ruth.”
She squeezed his hands. “Think back. Don’t you remember?”
Slowly, a faded memory started to emerged. They had been in school. She had been no more than nine and Samuel was almost twelve. Someone had accused him of tripping one of the girls in the schoolyard. She had fallen and her nose bled for nearly an hour. It had been Mary Ruth who had stood by him, insisting that Samuel was innocent, claiming that she had seen the entire scene and it had truly been an accident. But everyone else believed the worse, that Samuel had intentionally hurt the girl.
Probably unconsciously, this had always been engraved in his memory as a defining moment in their relationship. From that point onward, he had always made certain that she would not find herself at the receiving end of this or that particular mischief one of their peers wanted to play on her. Oftentimes, without truly realizing why, he had found himself acting as her champion and her protector. Could that be because she had believed in him and whispered the four simple words to comfort him?
“Die Wahrehti ist untodlich,” he whispered, remembering the words that she had said to him as they had sat under the shade of a large oak tree, sharing their noon meal while being shunned by their peers.
She smiled. “Die Wahrehti ist untodlich,” she repeated. “When you said those words at my daed’s farm, I knew you were telling me to believe in you. Just as I had, back then, in the schoolyard, Samuel.” She lifted her eyes and stared into his face. “That was the moment when I knew we would be together forever, Samuel.”
He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “Mary Ruth, you truly touch my heart.” He caressed her cheek with his fingertips and sighed. “How could I be so deserving of such a gift from God?”
“Speaking of gifts,” she said softly. “There is one more thing.”
“What is it, Mary Ruth?” he said, his voice low as he held her in his arms. “Anything that I can give you, I will.”
“We are married now and you promised me something.” She tilted her chin so that she was looking up and into his face. “A kiss. Now that we are married, I would like to have my kiss.”
In the darkness, Samuel nodded his head. He held her tight in his arms and placed one hand gently on the back of her neck, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and gentle, a fulfillment of a promise that had been unspoken so many years ago in that schoolyard but had grown throughout the years. The future was theirs and that night was just the beginning.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Price’s ancestors emigrated from Europe in 1705, settling in Pennsylvania as the area’s first wave of Mennonite families. Sara Price has always respected and honored her ancestors through exploration and research about her family’s history and their religion. At nineteen, she befriended an Amish family and lived on their farm throughout the years. Twenty-five years later, Sarah Price splits her time between her home outside of New York City and an Amish farm in Lancaster County, PA where she retreats to reflect, write, and reconnect with her Amish friends and Mennonite family.
Find Sarah Price on Facebook and Goodreads!
Learn about upcoming books, sequels, series, and contests!
Contact the author at [email protected].
Visit her weblog at http://sarahpriceauthor.wordpress.com or
on Facebook at www.facebook.com/fansofsarahprice.
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