A Marriage of the Heart (11 page)

But like a bad canker sore that attracts the tongue, her mind kept running over the possibilities with drawing pain. She and Luke had both had a
rumschpringe
, but it had been nothing like some she knew. At least for her it hadn’t been . . . She’d ridden in a car once, gone to two
Englisch
baseball games, and stayed out all night singing round a campfire with some of her Amish friends. She racked her brain for what Luke had been doing and realized she couldn’t fill in all the blanks of time. He’d been to her then what he always was . . . devoted. But friendship or not, she didn’t see him all the time. Could he have met
an
Englisch
girl? Could he have had a relationship that she didn’t know about?

She poked at her eggs and wished now that she would have stayed and listened to his odd request for help instead of running away like a child. She began to pray for guidance as she determinedly ate her food under the watchful eyes of her father and thought that life could be as difficult as navigating in the dark sometimes. Then she recalled the Bible verse that said “all the dark was as light” to the Lord; it gave her something to cling to as she ate her eggs.

L
UKE KNEW THAT HE WAS PROBABLY CATCHING
R
OSE’S
family right at breakfast, but he hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. Consequently, he’d poked Mark out of bed with one of his crutches just after dawn, and they now rode through the chill morning air in the buggy.

“I don’t mind takin’ you.” Mark’s teeth chattered as he spoke. “But isn’t this kind of early for working out your differences?”

Luke waved a vague hand at his brother. “Never too early to make things right.”

“Well, I hope breakfast is still on the table. I’d love to have a stack of pancakes made by a woman’s hand.”

Mark soon had his wish. Mrs. Bender hustled them in out of the cold, and Mr. Bender filled their coffee cups before they could get their coats off. Luke glanced at Rose and found, to his dismay, that she looked worn and weary. He had to get her alone to talk, but the Bender men appeared to love company at any hour.

And in truth, though he was worried for Rose, there was something infinitely soothing about the stack of pancakes that was placed before him, steaming with goodness and light as air. He toyed with his fork, wondering whether to take a bite or just ask to see Rose alone for a moment first.

“Eat up,
sohn
,” his future father-in-law urged him. “And tell us how you’re feeling with that wrist and ankle. Rosie wasn’t quite straight on how it all happened.”

Luke caught the daggered look Rose threw him across the table and decided she was still mad enough. He also had no clear idea how to answer her father. He took a careful bite of pancakes and smiled at Mrs. Bender. “Wonderful.”

“Ach, ya,”
Mark agreed with him.

Mrs. Bender gave a quick nod at their appreciation. “
Danki
. Eat hearty—there’s plenty more,” she said, moving back to the stove.

Luke cleared his throat and looked back to Mr. Bender as Rose arched a delicate dark brow in expectation of his response. He knew that look; it was a blatant challenge. He’d seen it enough when she’d dared him to climb higher in the old oak or to ford a rushing stream. He gave her an enigmatic smile.

“I’m feeling much better today, sir. And, of course, it really wasn’t Rose’s fault.” He took a sip of his coffee as he let his words sink in and watched Rose turn to him across the table with a surprised glare.

Ben looked up from his cup. “Not Rosie’s fault, you say? What exactly did happen?”

Luke shook his head. “
Ach
, I’m not one for telling tales on my future bride.”

James laughed. “
Ya
, but she’s still our sister and
narrisch
in her ways. Go ahead and tell.”

“
Ya
, Luke,” Rose murmured through tight lips. “Do tell, but don’t leave out the bit about your behavior. I mean, just because we’re to be married doesn’t mean that we should . . . well . . .” She broke off helplessly, and Luke almost choked on a laugh as the attention of the whole table now turned with quiet interest in his direction. His Rose could give as
gut
as she got.

Mr. Bender fixed him with a wary eye. “Perhaps we should have the whole story then.”

“
Ach
, by all means,” Luke returned easily. “But I’ll let Rose begin.”

The attention of the table swung back like a pendulum to Rose as she gave Luke a saccharine-sweet smile. “Certainly,
Daed
. We were in the woods together, Luke and I, near the old shack. You remember that tumbledown place about a half mile back on the Lantz property? Well, the sun was shining and the day was young, and Luke thought that the place might actually be a nice place to . . .” She paused. “Won’t you go on, Luke?”

“
Ya
, go on,” Mr. Bender suggested, tapping his empty
kaffee
cup against the wood of the table.

Luke shrugged and took another bite of his pancakes. “I thought it might be a fair spot to build a house for Rose and me—you know, far enough away from everyone for a newly married couple, kind of a pretty spot. I suppose it was foolishness, but I wanted to surprise her with it.”

“But I thought you were going to live with—” Mark broke off quickly when Luke gave him a quelling glare.

Then he smiled at the table at large. “You’ll no doubt think
it was too forward of me to want to lead Rose into the place, to imagine the fire in the old fireplace, the placing of furniture, and where best to carve her windows for light.”

Mr. Bender cleared his throat and gave a gusty laugh. “I think that’s just fine,
sohn
. Just fine.”

Aenti
Tabby smiled, her eyes misting, and Rose’s brothers were momentarily silent. Then James harrumphed in disappointment at the tale. “Well, what wasn’t Rose’s fault then?”

Luke shook his head with regret. “
Ach
, she wanted me to test the roof.”

The men groaned as one and turned to stare at Rose with accusation. “The roof, Rosie?” her father asked in disbelief. “How could you do that to a man?”

Luke watched Rose open and close her mouth like a beautiful, gasping fish; then she flung her napkin down on the table and ran from the room and out the back kitchen door.

“She left her cloak,” Luke observed, rising to wrangle with his crutches. “I’ll take it to her.”

He swung himself from the room, listening to the murmured comments behind praising his romanticism and foresight, and grimaced. He had the distinct feeling that he’d won the battle but was about to lose the proverbial war.

Chapter Eighteen

R
OSE TOLD HERSELF THAT IT WAS FOOLISHNESS TO CRY
so, simply because Luke had bested her in an argument. Then she admitted to herself that she was really crying over the drawing in her pocket and the terrible lie he’d told when he’d really been fixing that cabin for another woman.

She nestled more deeply between the hay bales of the barn, her sobs dissolving into hiccups, as she tried to warm herself.

“This might help.” Luke’s voice echoed from above her, and her cloak fell about her shoulders.

She scrambled into the garment and rose, not wanting to feel trapped by the hay and Luke’s presence. “Go away. You’ve had your bit of fun.”

He sighed. “Rose. I’m sorry.”

“
Ach
, yes you are, Luke Lantz—as sorry a man as I’ve ever seen.” She pushed past him, almost knocking him off balance as she angrily swung a milk bucket down from a hook on the wall.
The barn cats begin to entwine about her as she plunked down on a milking stool near Bubbles, the
milch
cow.

“Look, I should have been more honest with you yesterday, and I shouldn’t have let you take the worst of that in there. Please forgive me, and listen.” His voice was the husky, cajoling voice of the stranger, and she shook her head furiously as she concentrated on the rhythm of milking, trying to ease away her hurt.

“Rose, come on, please.” He bent near her.

She took deep breaths as she filled the cats’ pans, then turned to look up at him from the stool. “Fine. Say whatever you like, but I already know the truth. Or . . . at least one person of it.”

He straightened. “What do you mean?”

“Who’s Ally?” she asked, staring him straight in the eye.

She watched him blink in surprise. “How do you—”

“Just answer me, Luke. Who is she?”

“A little girl.”

“Is she—yours?”

He shook his head in obvious disbelief. “You’d think that?”

Rose lifted her chin stubbornly. “I went back to the shack last night. I found this.” She reached into the pocket of her apron and withdrew the coloring sheet. She handed it up to him without a word.

She watched him balance on his crutches to open the page; then he lifted his head to stare at her, anguish and anger lighting his blue eyes.

“I was wrong,” he said slowly. “I thought I was the one wearing the mask, but it’s you. You, who would marry me, think that I’d leave a child unclaimed, hidden, who was my own? How little you must truly believe in me.”

“Well, what am I supposed to believe, Luke?” she cried. “How does all of this look? You just told me yesterday that you couldn’t tell the secret, that it belonged to another woman—an
Englisch
woman! Do you know how much that hurt?” Rose could feel the blood pounding in her ears and knew that she was raising her voice.

He drew a deep breath. “All right. You’re right. I can see how this must look to you.”

She rose and came to stand in front of him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, her words softer now. “Can you, Luke? Can you understand? I don’t think badly of you. I just wanted to know for sure. I—I didn’t know if I could accept it, if you’d hidden her from me all this time.”

“I didn’t hide her from you,” he whispered low. “Not intentionally.”

Rose reached out to touch the coloring page. “Why is she so sad . . . this Ally? Her clouds are crying.”

He stared down at the paper. “That’s the part that’s not mine, Rose. It’s not mine to tell, but I need you to trust me. To help me, even. To help Ally and her family.”

“Her family? They’re
Englisch
?”

Luke nodded and met her eyes.
“Ya.”

“And they’re important to you?” Rose reached her purple fingertips to stroke his hand where it held the paper.

“They were . . . important to my
mamm
.”

“Your
mamm
?”

He nodded, his mouth set in a grim line.

She could have pressed him further, fought him for answers, but thoughts of what the Lord expected as far as honor and
fairness in an individual swirled through her mind. She understood valor, as part of her people, to be that part of self that yields instead of fights.

Rose swallowed. “Then they’ll become important to me too. I’ll help you.” She stretched on tiptoe and sealed her words with a kiss.

Chapter Nineteen

T
HE WEATHER CONTINUED TO TRACK IN WITH THE MERCURIAL
moods of Pennsylvania autumn. Cold to frost one day, blazing sun the next. The trees were beginning to lose their foliage now, and the leaves underfoot were a sure sign that Rose had let too many days slip past before visiting Priscilla. She knew it for sure as she looked across the table into her friend’s drawn face.

“Has it been that bad?” Rose asked, wishing she’d visited sooner.

Priscilla nodded. “I just don’t understand what all of this means. I’ve tried to reason it out, and it almost seems like—well, like maybe all of these things going wrong are a sign that I’m not on the right path.”

Rose caught her friend’s hand in her own. “Priscilla, you know you love Chester.”

But Priscilla was staring down in horror. “Your hand is purple.”

“I know. Beet juice. Just think, though, if it doesn’t wear off soon, it’ll look really nice with the blue dress for your wedding.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Sorry.” Rose swallowed her smile.