A Man of His Word (32 page)

Everything seemed to slow down around Moriah, as if her life had been permanently yoked to a leaden, unmovable force. “What did you do?” Her voice sounded feeble in her ears.

“You mean you don’t know?” Taylor’s cheeks reddened even deeper. “That your husband and I had an affair?”

Moriah gasped. Taylor’s words wrenched her heart. “An affair?”

“It was my fault. Since the accident I’ve had to face some ugly truths about myself. One of those is that I don’t care who I hurt, as long as I get what I want.” She paused and looked at Moriah. “What I wanted was your husband. He resisted at first, but I can be persuasive. Very persuasive.”

Closing her eyes against the fresh new wave of pain assaulting her, Moriah said, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I honestly thought you knew.”

“How would I know?” She opened her eyes. “My husband left me. He didn’t explain anything in his letter, only that he was leaving me and his faith. And he didn’t want to be Amish anymore.

“Didn’t you wonder what made him come to that decision?”

She twisted the ends of the ties of her prayer
kapp
. “We believe marriage is for life. What God has brought together, no man—or woman—can break apart.” She rose from her chair, not wanting to hear anything this woman had to say. Not only had Taylor Johnston taken Levi, for some reason she wanted to push the knife further into Moriah’s back. “I think you should leave. Now.”

Taylor looked up at her. “Are you pregnant?”

Moriah gripped the ribbons on her
kapp
even more tightly. “
Ya
.”

“With Levi’s baby?”

Moriah’s eyes narrowed. “
Ya
.”

All along she had thought he left because of something she’d done, and because of his dissatisfaction with the Amish church. Now she knew the real reason. She had disappointed him so deeply on an intimate level he had taken up with another woman. Would there be no end to her pain? To her humiliation? “Please,” she whispered, perilously close to tears. “Just go.”

“I will, after I tell you why I’m here. Levi and I had been fighting a lot lately, and I could tell he wasn’t happy living with me and my father. Then he found out I wasn’t pregnant—”

“What?”

“I told him I was pregnant.” Taylor stared down at the floor for a moment, then jerked her head up. “Like I said, I’ve done a lot of soul searching. I was the one driving in the accident, and even though the police said it wasn’t my fault, Levi and I had been arguing right before the truck hit us.” She licked her lips. “He’d learned that I’d lied to him about being pregnant. We hadn’t been together that long, and I didn’t like the idea of losing him. So I told him I was pregnant so he would stick around.” She paused and looked down again. “And he told me right before the accident that he was coming back to you.”

Moriah breathed in sharply. “Why should I believe you?”

“Normally you shouldn’t.” She sighed. “But you deserve to know the truth. He said he made a terrible mistake by leaving.” Picking up her huge red leather handbag, she stood. “I just wanted you to know he still loved you . . . and still wanted to be Amish. He said leaving you and his faith had been a mistake.”

A blend of caustic emotions ran through Moriah. Hearing about Levi’s planned return did little to assuage her pain and grief. Still, she understood Taylor’s gesture. The woman didn’t have to come here and tell the news in person, yet she did. “
Danki
,” Moriah managed.

“Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it. What I deserve is your hatred.”

“That is not our way.”

“I’ve heard that, but I didn’t really believe it. Not until now, and now I know he was right.” Taylor’s green eyes shimmered with tears. “I really am sorry,” she said in a thick whisper.

“I know.”

Taylor walked past her and out the door. Moriah didn’t move—she just stood there in the center of the living room, listening to Taylor’s car engine start and pull away. Only when the sound disappeared did she sit down on the couch. Her movements were still slow as she tried to process what Taylor had said.

Someone knocked on the front door, but she didn’t move to answer it. She didn’t want to see anyone else. She couldn’t take another blow. 2

Gabe knocked on the wooden screen door again, more firmly this time. Maybe Moriah was in the back of the house or upstairs where she couldn’t hear him, which was why she wasn’t answering the door.

Halfway down her street, Gabe had realized it was a mistake to leave Moriah alone with Taylor. He’d hurriedly turned his buggy around. What had he been thinking? He should have stood his ground, or at least stayed in another room. But Moriah had been insistent that he leave. Her tone of voice had been polite, but he saw it in her eyes. She wanted him to go. He supposed his nicked ego had led him to agree to her request. When he pulled in her driveway, he was glad to see Taylor had left.

He knocked for a third time. Drops of water plinked against the roof of the Bylers’ porch as a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. His horse would appreciate the cool shower.

Where was she? Worry shot through him. Lifting his hand to rap on the front door one more time, she finally opened it.

“What do you want?” she said dully.

Gabe discerned instantly that whatever Taylor had said to Moriah had upset her. He’d been afraid of that. Clearly she had been crying. Her eyes were swollen, her nose rosy as if she had been blowing it. “I came to see if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” She moved to shut the door.

He laid his palm on the frame, preventing the screen door from closing. “I can see you’re not.”

“Leave me alone, Gabriel.” She sounded on the verge of sobbing.

No way was he going to leave now. He pushed against the door with his hand, gently, but with enough force to show her he wasn’t going anywhere. “What did Taylor say to you?”

Moriah looked at him, her eyes consumed with defeat, then turned and walked away.

A knot formed in his gut as he followed her inside. The air felt heavy, sticky, as the sky darkened and rain pelted harder outside. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He took off his hat and laid it on the table. Her back was still to him, and despite the hot July temperature, she hugged her shoulders. “Moriah, I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

Whirling around, she said, “Did you know? Did you know about her and Levi?” Before he could answer she added, “Never mind. I can tell by your face that you did.”

“I’m sorry, Moriah.” Gabe took a step toward her. If only he could pull her in his arms. He could soothe her, explain why he didn’t tell her.

But she moved away from him. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with the tissue in her hand. “You lied to me.”

He shook his head, trying to close the distance between them. “
Nee
, Moriah. I didn’t lie to you.”

“You weren’t completely honest. That’s the same thing.”

Raking his hand through his hair, he said, “I couldn’t tell you. What
gut
would it have done? I didn’t want you to hurt any more than you already were.” He dipped his head so he could look directly at her. “I wanted to protect you.”

Her shoulders slumped, and he could see the strength drain from her. She gazed at him with weepy blue eyes, eyes that he had fallen in love with more than six years ago. “What else are you hiding from me, Gabriel? What other secrets do you have? Or will I have to wait until someone else dies to find out?”

He froze, as if her words had been a physical blow. “That’s not fair, Moriah.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“
Nee
, I’m sorry.” A flash of lightning lit up the sky. “You’re right. I haven’t been honest with you. Not completely. And you have a right to know why.”

His somber countenance stunned Moriah. She’d never seen him so serious, even when he had told her about Levi leaving her. Dread pooled inside her, and she wished she hadn’t questioned him. Hadn’t she had enough?

“There is something I need to tell you,” Gabriel said. “It’s something I should have told you a long time ago.” He gestured to the sofa. “Can we sit down?”

She nodded, knowing they had both come too far in this conversation to turn back now. Outside a boom of thunder shook the house, much the same way her life had been rocked to the core. They sat down together, and she could see the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. The room had become unbearably hot and humid, the afternoon thunderstorm doing little to cool things down.

“Moriah, I only want you to be happy. You have to believe that. Everything I’ve done has been driven by that desire.”

The irony of his statement struck her. She’d never been so miserable in her life.

“Remember when we were in school, the day you and I first walked home together?”

She nodded. “Levi was sick and stayed home. We were in fifth grade.”

“Sixth. We took the long way home. Remember how we talked about everything?”

“We even went and sat by the creek for a while. Just talking.”

“I got in trouble for being late.” He grinned, but the expression was tempered with solemnity. “That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what? Gabriel, what does this have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I—Moriah, I love you.” He let out a long breath.

“I know,” she said wearily. “I love you too. You’re my husband’s brother, and the uncle to my child. Of course I love you.”

He shook his head, his brown hair flopping against his ears. “
Nee
, you don’t understand. I
love
you. Not like a
schwester
.” He took her hand in his. “I love you like a man loves a woman. Like a husband loves his wife.”

When his gaze locked with hers, her heart stopped beating. She could see that his words were true. It was evident in his eyes. As he looked at her with such warmth and love, she wanted to weep. It was obvious in the way he held her hand, gently, almost reverently, like he never wanted to let her go. “Gabriel,” she said, almost unable to form his name. “I . . . I . . .”

“Shhh.” He brushed the top of her hand with his thumb. “Let me finish. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid. Afraid you’d reject me, or laugh in my face.”

“I would never have laughed at you.”

“I know that now. But my twelve-year-old heart didn’t. Then by the time I had found my courage, you were in love with Levi, and he loved you. I didn’t want to stand in the way of that. So I kept my feelings to myself. At least I tried.”

Moriah felt like a fool. How could she have been so oblivious to everything? Memories flooded her mind—how reticent Gabriel had become shortly after she and Levi were together. How kind he’d been to her after Levi left. How he had been so attentive to her since his brother’s death, so loyal . . .

So loving.

“Did anyone else know?” she asked. “Did Levi know?”

“I didn’t think so. I had tried so hard to keep it inside and thought I had. But the day I went to Johnston’s Farms, I found out Levi did know. And that leads me to the second thing I need to say.”

“There’s more?” Her mind and emotions were swirling in a cauldron of confusion.