The Amish Wonders Collection Read online

  Chapter Five

  Lindie rose to her tiptoes and craned her neck, trying to get a better view out of the kitchen window. Josiah waved at the driver and walked over to the buggy. A dark-haired woman in her midthirties climbed out and greeted Josiah with an overly friendly smile.

  Lindie hadn’t heard him mention having other relatives who lived in Cedar Ridge besides Simon, but she and Josiah hadn’t spoken much either.

  The woman wore a coy expression and kept her head bowed. She stood so close her shoulder practically touched his. She wasn’t acting like a relative. Obviously she wasn’t aware that Josiah was a married man now. Did he not notice that the woman was flirting with him? He walked around the back of her buggy.

  They were standing close enough to the porch that their conversation would have drifted inside. If only the weather was favorable to open the window.

  Lindie sighed. How could she consider eavesdropping on her new husband?

  Josiah rounded the corner of the woman’s buggy, a large wicker laundry basket in his arms. Following close behind him, the woman carried a covered baking dish.

  Lindie moved away from the window as the woman followed him up the porch steps. Muffled chatter about how the woman knew he liked the meal she’d made was drowned out by the sound of stomping feet at the door. Lindie strained to hear Josiah’s reply, but his voice was too low.

  The front door creaked open.

  Lindie grabbed the wet dishrag and began scrubbing the counter.

  “Denki for the meal. I’ll take it to the kitchen,” Josiah said.

  “Well, ah . . . I thought maybe—”

  “Simon is expecting me back in the barn.” He didn’t wait for the woman’s response. “I appreciate you stopping over with the laundry and supper,” he said, softening his tone. “Let me walk you to your buggy.”

  Let me tell you I’m married was what Josiah should be saying.

  A few moments later the door opened again. This time his heavy footsteps marched closer to the kitchen.

  Lindie continued scrubbing the counter.

  “You don’t have to make anything for supper.”

  She lifted the rag. “That was thoughtful of your sister. Why didn’t you invite her in for kaffi?”

  “She’s nett mei sister.”

  “Cousin?”

  He shook his head.

  Lindie resumed scouring, as if beet juice had stained the countertop.

  “Weren’t you cleaning the counter a few minutes ago?”

  She shot him a sideways glare. “I thought this was what you wanted from our arrangement. Someone to clean and cook.” She stared at the dish on the table. “But I guess you don’t need someone to cook after all, do you?”

  “Nett tonight.” He motioned to the sitting room. “And you don’t have to catch up on the laundry either. Hannah can put her clothes away, and I’ll sort through mine and Simon’s when I kumm in later.” He eyed the counter. “I suppose you won’t stop scrubbing until you strip the finish off that surface, jah?”

  She tossed the rag into the sink and planted her hands on her hips. “Why did you marry me? You seem to have all your needs taken care of.”

  He stared at her a moment.

  Another man wouldn’t allow his wife such boldness without rebuking her. Still, she wouldn’t be made a fool of.

  He closed the gap between them. “According to your bruder, you needed a fresh start.” He turned away, then stopped. Facing her once more, he said, “And what makes you so sure all my needs are taken care of?”

  Lindie swallowed. She didn’t have the nerve to ask what he was referring to, and yet he raised his brows as though prompting her to say something. Her eyes burning, she blinked several times to clear her teary vision. Her brother paid Josiah to marry her—what more did he want?

  She sprinted past him, out the door. Somehow she had to gain control of her emotions. They were playing havoc with her stomach.

  “Lindie,” Josiah said, stepping onto the porch. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I know being pregnant does some crazy things to your—”

  “How much did mei bruder pay you to marry me?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Eli gave you money to marry me. How much did you charge for a marred fraa?”

  His brows furrowed and he cocked his head. “It’s too kalt out here. Let’s talk inside.”

  “I must know so I can pay mei bruder back. I’ll find a job. You can just tell him— Oh, what does it matter. Tell him you sent me away.”

  Josiah snorted. “Why would I send you away? We made a covenant before God. Until separated by death. Remember?” He reached for her arm and she flinched. “Kumm inside.”

  Lindie bowed her head. She should have kept her mouth shut.

  Wives, be submissive to your husbands . . . The Lord had a good reason for reminding her of that command. She had a duty to her husband and was failing.

  This time when he gave her arm a tug, she didn’t resist.

  Josiah guided her to the sitting room and stopped in front of his desk. He opened the drawer, removed a key, then unlocked the compartment where she had seen him put the envelope. “Are you talking about this?”

  She nodded.

  He handed her the envelope. “See for yourself.”

  She hesitated.

  “It’s all right. Open it.”

  Reluctantly, she emptied the contents in her hand. Along with the stack of twenties was a note. She handed him the money and unfolded the paper.

  A few lines into the message, she wished she could seep into the floor. She peered up from the note. “He’s ordering a shipment of elm wood?”

  “Finding trees unaffected by the Dutch elm disease in Ohio is rare.”

  She’d never seen his pupils so large. So consuming. Yet she didn’t detect any sign of judgment. She folded the paper. Her voice would fail her if she tried to apologize.

  Josiah tapped the wooden chair. “Have a seat. I’m going to show you how to log his order into the book.”

  She tucked her chin against her chest and eased into the chair. Eli hadn’t mentioned purchasing lumber.

  Josiah crouched beside her and tilted his head so that their eyes met. “You’re nett marred in mei eyes.”

  Tears wet her cheeks. She pushed them away, but they continued to flow like an undammed stream. If he knew about her past, he would change his mind.

  Josiah held out his hankie. “Things will get better.” He choked on his words as if he was trying to believe that himself. He turned his attention to the desk and pulled out a thick, leather-bound book from the drawer.

  “We need to set up Eli as a new account.” He avoided her eyes as he flipped through several pages, stopped on a blank sheet, then handed her the pen. “I’ll walk you through entering the information.” And he did, line by line, explaining as he went in a gentle but businesslike tone.

  Perhaps he was referring to bookkeeping when he spoke of needs not being met. She did her best to listen carefully to the instructions, but she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back to his statement. You’re nett marred in mei eyes. Even Moses, who had claimed to love her and wanted to marry her, couldn’t say those words.

  “There really isn’t much to keeping the records straight,” he said. “Of course this is somewhat backward. Usually the orders are filled and delivered before the account is paid.” He flipped a few pages in the log. “See, this account hasn’t been reconciled yet. The far column is blank because the invoice hasn’t been paid.” He looked her in the eye. “Do you have any questions?”

  She had plenty, but none that pertained to bookkeeping. “Nay,” she said just above a whisper.

  He closed the ledger. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

  She swiped her dress sleeve over her wet face. “What do you want from me?”

  “Just what I told you at the bus station.” He scratched the back of his neck and started to walk away, but turned around. “I n
eed you to watch mei dochder. If you could concentrate on caring for her, I’ll be happy.”

  “Okay.” He wasn’t asking much. She could certainly fulfill that request. Children always flocked to her at gatherings.

  “I forgot to give you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “It arrived in the mail today,” he said.

  “Denki.” She looked at the letter addressed to Lindie Plank. Seeing her married name in print seemed surreal. She waited until Josiah went outside to open the letter.

  Dear Lindie,

  You probably haven’t settled in yet, but I wanted to send a letter right away. I miss you already and you have been gone only a few short days. What do you think of Josiah? Is Hannah still quiet? I ask because she didn’t say anything when Eli and I had attended Caroline’s funeral. I wish things had been different and I could have been present for your wedding. But someone would’ve had to watch Solomon and besides that, the bus fare is so much. I’ve been praying for you to have an easy transition to married life and to living in northern Michigan. How are the members? Have you made new friends? Please tell me everything. I’m anxious to hear how well everything is going. Write when you can.

  Margaret

  Soft footsteps entered the room.

  Lindie smiled at Hannah. The girl glared. She didn’t appear to like that Lindie was sitting in her father’s desk chair.

  Lindie crossed the room and knelt to the girl’s level. “Hiya.” She reached out for the girl’s hand to give it a pat but Hannah crossed her arms. Her hair needed a good brushing, but this wasn’t the time to tackle that matted mess.

  Hannah’s steely eyes shifted from Lindie to scan the room.

  “Are you looking for your father?” Lindie asked once the girl’s eyes fell back on her.

  Hannah’s brows crinkled.

  “Are you”—she pointed at Hannah—“looking”—she pointed to her eyes, but realized even talking extra slow, she wasn’t communicating very well. She lifted her index finger and darted into the kitchen. She snatched the sign language book off the table. Flipping through the pages, she walked back into the sitting room. She tried once again but had a difficult time holding the book open while manipulating her hands to form the letters.

  Hannah clasped her hands behind her back.

  Once Lindie finished spelling out “father,” the girl turned and walked away. Lindie rubbed her temples. Practice patience. This was going to be more difficult than she thought, especially if Hannah continued to ignore her.

  She set the book down and looked at the letter once more. She missed Margaret. She wished she were home.

  Josiah hiked to the barn. He’d gotten into more than he’d bargained for with Lindie. She may have needed a fresh start, but he didn’t have the ability to offer her any more than that. He wasn’t in a stable state of mind to fix his own problems, let alone anyone else’s. Besides, he wasn’t sure what Lindie had run from—other than being an unwed mother.

  Had he prayed about it more, he most likely wouldn’t have made such an illogical decision. But he had panicked after finding Hannah dazed in the pond. He would have given anything to provide his daughter with a normal, balanced life. And a mother. He had only reached that desperate decision a few short hours before Eli had made his outrageous suggestion.

  “Your dochder needs a mother. Mei sister needs a husband. It only makes sense.” Even reciting Eli’s words aloud didn’t offer clarity. Now he was married to a woman who’d been hurt by another, and who would probably cry throughout her entire pregnancy. He didn’t like that she referred to herself as marred. She had made choices that changed the course of her life. But so had he.

  It didn’t matter now how distorted their reasoning was for rushing into marriage. They had both agreed.

  They took vows, made a covenant.

  Josiah reached the barn and yanked open the door. His chest tightened as he forced a breath, which brought on a coughing fit.

  Simon stopped hammering and looked up from his work. “You should have that cough looked at.”

  “Later.” He grabbed another hammer from the workbench. “I’ve got to fill these orders for the Christmas wreaths. We don’t want to lose our new customers or the city’s contract for next year.” Cedar Ridge’s city officials ordered cedar bough wreaths to hang from every lamppost on Main Street each year. Along with the regular accounts, this year he picked up several independent businesses as well, making this his busiest winter yet.

  As he unraveled the chicken wire, the jagged end snagged his finger and it started to bleed. It was a lot of blood for something that looked no deeper than a scrape. He jammed his finger in his mouth, then removed it. It continued to bleed. He pulled out his hankie and wrapped it around his finger. He would apply salve later to keep the area free from infection, but right now he needed to wrap the chicken wire around the wood-framed wreath.

  Simon stopped pounding. “Was that a buggy I heard earlier?”

  “Jah, Ellen Yoder brought the laundry by and left a dish for supper.”

  Simon finished attaching the chicken wire, then looked up. “Did she meet your fraa?”

  Josiah shook his head. He hoped he hadn’t been rude when he kept Ellen from going past the threshold, but he wasn’t up for introductions. As it was, he didn’t know Lindie and he wasn’t prepared to answer questions.

  “Don’t you usually pick up the laundry from her place?”

  “I’m sure she was on her way to a get-together.” Rebecca, the bishop’s wife, most likely spread the news of his unscheduled wedding. Knowing Ellen, she probably delivered the clothes so she could gather more information to feed to the women’s circle. Josiah loaded his arms with the cedar boughs that were piled on the floor, placed them on the worktable, then scratched his abdomen. The wood’s natural oils had caused him to itch ever since he cut and hauled the boughs out of the woods. The rash had spread. Now it wasn’t just on his stomach and chest, but his sides, and part of his back. The areas he couldn’t reach were the worst. Sometimes he would rub against a post like a horse.

  Simon pounded the stubborn section of chicken wire into place. He pushed that one aside and grabbed another wood-framed wreath. “I wish you would have thought about what this stress would do to you.”

  Josiah shrugged off the comment, hoping his father-in-law wouldn’t dwell on what was done. Stress was part of the adjustment period, but nothing compared to what he experienced when Caroline died or the hours he spent by Hannah’s hospital bed, waiting for some sign that she would wake from her coma.

  “I don’t want you to wear yourself down again.”

  “It’s nett the same.” Josiah’s clipped response stifled further discussion.

  They worked in silence until mealtime, then lumbered toward the house. Simon’s limp appeared more pronounced today. Josiah walked slowly in case his father-in-law’s hip gave out.

  Lindie stood on the porch, her back facing them, her hands clutching the railing.

  Josiah tapped Simon’s shoulder. “Give me a minute, will you?” He waited for Simon to go inside, then he approached Lindie. “Everything okay?”

  “Supper is ready. I reheated the food your woman friend brought over,” she said without facing him.

  “Let’s go eat while it’s hot.” He half turned, but stopped when she didn’t budge. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

  “I just need some air.”

  He moved closer to get a glimpse of her face. Sullen. “Homesick?”

  “Jah,” she whispered.

  He’d warned her it would be a hard adjustment. The letter she received probably made her miss her family.

  Josiah caught a glimpse of Simon standing at the window. He entered the house alone and braced for Simon’s comment.

  “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Josiah patted his stomach. “How about you?”

  “Jah, I’m ready to eat.” He flipped his thumb over his shoulder. “Doesn’t your fraa know it’s time to eat
? Most women work hard to please their husbands.”

  She needed time, but Simon may not understand that. The Lord knew she had more to adjust to than any other newly married woman. Besides, at twenty-two, she was still young. Unlike Caroline, who became a wife and mother naturally, Lindie stepped into a role she didn’t want—at least not with him.

  Lindie wasn’t prepared for marriage and motherhood. His daughter’s snarly hair was proof of that. Hannah sat at the table, her dress wrinkled and prayer kapp missing. He wondered if Lindie had even tried to do something about his child’s unkempt appearance. But if he asked Hannah why she wasn’t wearing her kapp, Simon would have something to say about that. As it was, Hannah and Simon’s relationship was strained. His father-in-law believed a child needed nonverbal clues, such as not being included in table conversations, to learn that inappropriate actions like running off wouldn’t be tolerated. Josiah wasn’t sure Hannah learned anything but ways to retreat even deeper into her own world.

  Josiah peeled the foil away from the glass dish. His mouth watered. Ellen had gone out of her way preparing a tender pot roast with mushroom gravy and red potatoes. He looked out the window. If Lindie didn’t come in soon, Simon would expect him to insist she get in the house. Josiah didn’t want to enforce his authority. It was unrealistic to believe their arranged marriage wouldn’t come with some wrinkles. Homesickness for one, remorse another.

  Josiah took his place at the table. Hannah sat on his left and Simon at the opposite end. Josiah tried to peek out the window without Simon noticing. Lindie hadn’t moved. Did she realize she was holding up the meal? In a few minutes, the fading sun would limit his ability to see outside. Then he’d never get her attention without knocking on the windowpane. That would only rile Simon up over the matter, which wouldn’t be good for any of them. Lindie wouldn’t be long. If not hunger, the drop in temperature should bring her in at any moment.

  Hannah wiggled in her chair.

  Simon cleared his throat. “So how does Hannah get along with your new fr—”

  “Her name is Lindie.” He didn’t want Simon’s reference to be how Hannah learned the news. He turned his attention to his daughter, who was staring at him. Her expression was blank. He smiled warmly at her, but the gesture failed to elicit a response. His child’s empty stare cut through his heart. He wished he knew what hid behind those big brown eyes of hers.