Gabriel's Bride (11 page)

She leaned down, breathing in the smell of goat before kissing Sadie on the top of her head.

“Rachel?”

She stiffened at the sound of his voice, using her apron to wipe away her tears before turning to face him.

Gabriel Fisher loomed over her, making her feel smaller and more helpless than ever. Two weeks ago she had everything she wanted, everything she needed, and now—despite her best efforts—she had nothing.

“Gabriel.” She nodded toward him unable to say more through the lump in her throat. She just wouldn’t think about the changes she faced. She couldn’t think about them right now. She didn’t want to start crying all over again.

“Don’t cry,” he said, his voice rough and soft at the same time, gravelly as if he were battling his own emotions. She was certain that he was dealing with the news the minister had delivered to them. He was from one of the most upstanding families in the district, in the whole settlement, even. To have his integrity questioned was a blow in itself.

“I’m not crying,” she lied.
Not now,
she silently added, staring at her herd and still scratching Sadie behind her ears. “I guess I should write my cousin and tell him that I’ve changed my mind.” She nearly choked on her last words. She hadn’t changed her mind at all, but wagging tongues had done that for her. No wonder it was a sin to gossip. It hurt bad, especially when it wasn’t true.

“Have you?” he asked.

She jerked, turning to face him. “Have I what?”

“Changed your mind.”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“I think so,
jah
.”

Her gaze flew to his face, her eyes snagging his. Something unreadable shined there and in an instant filled her with hope. She pushed it down, tried to contain it. “
Nay
,” she finally said. “I have not changed my mind.” In fact she had grown fond of his family, sometimes pretending that they were her own. It was silly, she knew. But she also knew that the chances of her having a family that was really hers were slim. What harm could come from a little secret pretending?

“Neither have I.”

She studied his face, her hope rising once again. “You want me to stay?”

“
Jah
,” he said with a quick nod. “Samuel has grown used to you. He doesn’t take to many people the way he has to you.”

She laughed. “I’m a terrible housekeeper.”

“You are better than none at all.” He shrugged. “It is a big chore to take care of so many
buwe
.”

“What about the gossip?”

He shifted, appearing uncomfortable as he stared at the ground beneath his feet. “As a newly ordained deacon, I’m expected to maintain a certain standard.”

She nodded. He would need to be above reproach. Surely since the minister and the bishop knew the truth they would be okay.

“There is only one way that you’ll be able to stay here.”

She tilted her head. “What is that?”

“We must get married.”

His words fell like a dead duck between them. Was he serious?

She met those hard green eyes and realized that Gabriel Fisher was not the joking sort.

“Married?” she squeaked. Married to this mountain of a man with big hands that matched his constant frown? How could she marry him? “But . . . but . . . but . . .”

He took a step toward her, and she took two back. “Rachel.” Exasperation laced his voice. “It doesn’t have to be like that. We can have whatever kind of marriage we choose.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need a housekeeper, and you need a place to live and keep your goats.”

She nodded.

“Our arrangement will remain the same, only we’ll be married.”

Heat flushed her cheeks, and she was surely as red as the geraniums she had planted in the front of the house. “What if you decide you wish you hadn’t married me?” she said. “Or you fall in love? What then?”

He shook his head. “I’ve had love in my life. I’ll not be expecting it again.”

She dipped her chin, intently studying the toes of her shoes. “And our sleeping arrangements?” she mumbled.

“Eh?”

She took a deep breath, gathering courage. “Where will you sleep?”

Confusion puckered his brow. “In my bed.”

The heat crept down her neck. “Where will I sleep?”

“In your bed.”

She was certain she had turned red to the tips of her toes. “Forever?”

“Until it serves us no longer.”

What exactly did that mean? She looked away, understanding most of it. For the time being, their marriage would be in name only. She would stay with Gabriel, be his bride and care for his children. She would keep her goats and her independence. What more could a girl want?

True love,
a little voice inside her whispered.

But love was the ultimate dream. Gabriel had practically said so himself. It didn’t come around more than once—and for some people not at all.

“I accept,” she said, sticking out her hand to shake his. Still she couldn’t help but wish that he got that same misty look in his eyes when he talked to her the way he always did when he talked about his late wife.

He took her hand into his own, his big palm enveloping hers until it disappeared.

“
Jah
, then,” he said. “Let’s go talk to the bishop.”

“Are you sure they won’t mind?” Rachel asked as they neared the turnoff that would take her to his parents’ house.

“They will not care if you stay.”

“But . . . but . . .”

“Relax,” he said, laying one of those large hands on her arm in support. Her flesh tingled where he touched, but she shook off the feeling. It was only natural that she was sensitive right now. She had been through so much in the last couple of weeks: her aunt’s death, the move, and now this. A wedding.

The horses turned without hardly any direction from Gabriel. They knew the route so well.

Rachel wiped her hands down her skirt and tried to convince herself that everything was going to turn out fine. She had met Ruth and Abram Fisher several times before, and they seemed to take to her good enough. However, that was before she had agreed to marry their
sohn
. What would they think of her now?

Gabriel pulled the horses to a stop, then unhitched them from the wagon and led them toward the watering trough. They were going to be here a while, explaining and planning. Weddings didn’t just happen overnight.

“Gabriel, is that you?”

“Jah, Mam,”
he said. Rachel continued to sit in the buggy until she realized what she was doing. She hopped down.

Ruth Fisher’s green gaze centered on her, but Rachel was too anxious to read her expression. Though she did note that Ruth’s eyes weren’t near as hard as her
sohn’s
.

Her feet rooted to the spot until Gabriel came up behind her. One of those big hands wrapped around her arm and pressed her toward the porch.

“I see you have a guest.”

Rachel skidded to a stop as Gabriel halted a good two feet from the porch. “We should talk about this inside.”

Ruth Fisher nodded. “I’ll get us some pie.”

Once they all settled around the table, pie in front of them, coffee brewing, Ruth spoke. “So what brings you out today,
sohn
?”

“Rachel and I are gettin’ married.”

Ruth blinked. “Rachel?”

“Rachel Yoder.” He nodded in her direction.

“I know who Rachel is. I’m just a bit shocked. I wasn’t prepared for such news.” Ruth’s voice was calm and even with no trace of how she really felt about the situation.

Rachel looked down at her plate, wishing she didn’t have a huge lump in her stomach. Shoo-fly was her favorite.

“As the new deacon, there are church members who feel that it would be better if I were married.”

Ruth nodded.

“Rachel and I have a mutual need. She needs a place to live and I need someone to care for the boys. It is a logical solution.”

Ruth’s keen eyes studied her for a full minute before she turned back to her son. “Many a good marriage has started with less.”

Gabriel gave a jerk of his head that she supposed was a nod, then swallowed hard. Was he thinking of his wife? She pushed the thought away. It made no difference; their relationship wasn’t based on
that
.

“We will need some help planning.”

Ruth’s face lit up like the Christmas lights in town during the holidays. She took Rachel’s hand in her own and squeezed it. “I’d love to help.”

“I want to announce the wedding at the next church service.”

Of course he did. As a church leader, he’d need to show the congregation that he had good intentions toward her and his new position.

“We will get married a week from Thursday,” he said.

“A week?” Rachel squeaked while Ruth echoed her sentiments. Planning a wedding in seven days was the definition of insanity.

Ruth shook her head. “I’ll need at least a month.”

“We don’t have a month,” Gabriel said. “Two weeks. That’s the best I can offer.”

Rachel wished she could speak past the lump in her throat. Two weeks was not near enough time to get used to the idea of marrying Gabriel Fisher. But the sooner they got married, the sooner they could go back to their normal routine, and that would be best for everyone involved.

Ruth sighed. “Two weeks, then.”

“One more thing,” Gabriel said. “There are members of the church who believe that it’s not appropriate for Rachel to stay with me.”

“Gabriel Fisher! Of course it’s not. We raised you better than to think it was.”

Rachel almost laughed as the stain of red crept up Gabriel’s neck, clear up to his hairline. “I was only trying to—”

“Rachel will stay here with us.” Ruth squeezed Rachel’s hand once again. “That’ll give us more time to plan the wedding.”

Rachel nodded, glad that Ruth Fisher seemed taken with the idea. Heaven knew she was worried enough about the actual marrying Gabriel Fisher part. She didn’t need to have hostile in-laws too.

“Now,” Ruth said, standing and adjusting her prayer
kapp
. “Let’s get Katie Rose and get a list ready. We haven’t any time to waste.”

Rachel stood as Gabriel frowned. “What about my noon meal?”

But Ruth was already halfway to the stairs. “I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it this one time.”

Two weeks from Thursday . . . Gabriel stared at the ceiling that night after everyone had gone to bed. Two weeks would give the womenfolk time to sew Rachel a new dress and time enough to gather a few friends to witness the event. They already had the bishop’s blessing, so that was done. Now he just had to manage the
buwe
on his own until Rachel was his wife.

He flopped over onto his side, staring into the unoccupied half of the bed. “
Becca
,” he whispered into the darkness. “I sure hope I’m doing the right thing.”

He hadn’t walked out of the house that afternoon planning on asking her to marry him. He’d gone to find Rachel to make sure that she wasn’t sick. What he’d found was her enormous brown eyes swimming in tears.

His Becca hadn’t been much of a crier. She was a strong woman, practical and sure. Rachel’s tears had been his undoing. He couldn’t stand there while she wiped them away all the while denying their existence and just do nothing. When the plan popped into his head, it slid out of his mouth almost as easily, and there it was, the solution to their problem. The perfect way to stem her sorrow.

A lump formed in his throat as he thought about that moment. He’d never planned on getting married again, much less to a scrap of a girl with chocolate-colored eyes and a love for goats. But there it was. Two weeks away.

In his mind, he knew it was the right answer. But his heart . . . that was another matter altogether. Still the boys needed food on the table, clean clothes to wear, and a father who didn’t have to play both parental roles.

For sure and for certain, it would be
gut
to have a woman around the house again.

Samuel’s face immediately came to mind. He, more than anyone else, needed the soft touch that Rachel could provide.

Gabriel was worried about the child staying home all day and never attending school. Perhaps he should go in and talk to the teacher and see what he needed to do in order to catch Samuel up to the other
kinder
in his grade. But until then, he would at least have Rachel.