Gabriel's Bride (12 page)

He sighed and closed his eyes. For the time being, he’d made the right decision. He could only hope that his Becca was smiling down from heaven at this new addition to their family.

Ruth thumped the eraser end of her pencil against the notebook and sighed. “Two weeks is not near enough time. I guess we could buy the celery.”

Rachel traced the tiny puckers in her apron with her fingers and shifted in her seat. “It doesn’t have to be a big wedding. I mean, I don’t have any family that would come and well, I don’t have a lot of friends.” Why did her stomach pang when she said the words? Her lack of social contact had never bothered her before. Just now, when faced with no one at the wedding to stand up for her, it did.

“Well, we’ll have to have enough for soup, and
roasht
, and . . .” She made a note on the paper and looked to Katie Rose. “I’m sure your cousins will help. That way we could have the ‘going to the table.’”

Rachel shook her head. “We don’t have to do all that. Just the family and the bishop. A regular supper.”

“You have to have a cake. At the very least,” Katie Rose added.

“Jah,”
Ruth agreed. “A cake is not optional.”

“It’s not that kind of marriage.”

Ruth shook her head. “There is only one kind of marriage, and you’re about to have it.”

Her hands shook at the thought. “But . . .”

“No buts,” Ruth said. “We are having ourselves a wedding. Now whether we have six months or two weeks is no matter.”

Katie Rose clapped her hands together in excitement. Rachel liked Gabriel’s sister. She liked all of his family, from his younger brother, John Paul, to his equally stern-faced father. The Fishers had done nothing if not accepted her into the fold. But this was too much. There would be no one at the wedding for her. All the family she had left lived in Ohio, and though they were welcome to come, Rachel had never met them, not even once. She seriously doubted that they would travel all that way in the middle of the growing season for a distant relative they’d never even seen.

Yet people she hardly knew wanted to make sure that her wedding was something to remember, even if the marriage itself was for convenience sake only. To her dismay, tears welled up in her eyes. She hadn’t cried this much since her parents and her brothers were killed.

“Oh, do not cry.” Katie Rose jumped to her feet and raced around the table. “We only want to help.”

“I know,” Rachel sniffed as Ruth handed her a tissue. “It’s just . . . everything is happening so fast.”

“I’ll talk to Gabriel,” Ruth said. “Have him give us a couple of months to get everything ready.”

“Nay.”
Rachel dried her tears and stiffened her shoulders. She had promised to marry him and take care of his children, he had promised to let her keep her goats. She had a bargain to uphold, and she would do it. “I’m
allrecht
now. But let’s keep this as small as possible. It’s not the wedding season and so many will be needed in the fields.”

Ruth nodded, though Rachel thought her action seemed reluctant. “Now where are we going to get the celery we need?”

7

T
he days leading up to the wedding were hectic and filled. Rachel spent the most of her day at Gabriel’s house, cleaning and taking care of her goats. Unfortunately, she still hadn’t mastered the art of cooking for seven. There just never seemed to be enough food. Most times she cooked the evening meal, then went back to Ruth and Abram’s for her own supper. Gone were the days of having leftovers and sandwiches for lunch the next day.

She enjoyed her time at Gabriel’s house, even when he came in from the fields tired and sweaty, that perpetual frown marring his otherwise handsome features. She couldn’t help but wonder why he frowned so much.

Not that it was any of her business. Even if they were about to get married. It wasn’t like they were getting married for real.

She fanned herself even though she was alone in the house with only little Samuel to keep her company. She wasn’t comfortable thinking about such things. The goats were milked and the dishes from their noon meal washed and dried, there wasn’t a real good reason not to go visiting. It might do Samuel some good too, to see his
grossmammi
, and she could use Ruth’s treadle sewing machine to sew a new shirt for Joseph.

Decision made, she gathered her material and Samuel, then hitched up the horses, all the while looking forward to getting out a little. It was a beautiful day—the sun was shining, the birds chirping, the sky the bluest she had ever seen.

John Paul’s car was gone from its place behind the phone shanty that sat across the road from Ruth and Abram’s house. He was most likely working at the factory that sat between Clover Ridge and Chouteau. Rachel didn’t think his father approved of the job, but Abram hadn’t said anything directly to her. She supposed every Amish teen experienced
rumspringa
in their own way. Well, she hadn’t exactly. She hadn’t been interested in sampling the pleasures of the
Englisch
world, more content to stay at home than run around.

She didn’t feel like she missed much. Now here she was years later about to be married to a man she hardly knew.

She grabbed her sewing bag from behind the seat and helped Samuel to the ground. “Are you ready to see your
grossmammi
?”

He smiled up at her, glasses glinting in the sunlight, one front tooth missing. “Will she have cookies? The kind without brown edges?”

Rachel laughed as they made their way up the porch steps. “I’m sure she will.”

There was no denying it: her own cooking skills hadn’t improved much since she had been caring for Gabriel and his sons. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how, she just got a little impatient while everything baked, fried, or boiled and she would find her mind wandering to other projects—the cheese she had fermenting on the porch, any outstanding orders, a new kid—and she would go to check on these things only to lose track of time and burn whatever it was she was trying to cook. It was an honest mistake and one she was trying desperately to correct.

With a determination to cook supper without a mishap, Rachel knocked on the door. She smiled down at Samuel, his fingers fisted in the skirt of her dress. He was just the most precious child.

She raised her hand and knocked again.

The family buggy was unhitched and sitting to the side of the house. But that didn’t mean they were definitely home. Ruth and Abram could have taken off in the wagon. Katie Rose was most likely working on her wedding plans, or at the very least enjoying such a perfect day with her beloved.

Rachel ignored the stab of jealousy and added the transgression to her ever-growing mental prayer list. It was a sin to covet what thy neighbor had, but she was weak. There were so many times when she wished her life had turned out a little more . . . well, normal.

“I guess they’re not home.” She had been looking forward to spending part of the afternoon with her future mother-in-law. Even having a mother-in-law would make her feel a little more like everyone else.

She turned to lead Samuel back toward the steps when she heard a noise. Had that come from inside the house? She stopped and cocked her head to one side.

Samuel turned questioning green eyes to hers.

“Did you hear that?”

He gave a solemn nod.

She went back to the door and knocked again.

No answer.

What if someone was inside? And hurt? Or what if it was a burglar?

She shook her head at her overactive imagination. Most Amish homes didn’t contain items that were considered to be worth stealing. Could be an
Englisch
kid come to play pranks on them.

She took a deep breath for courage and turned the knob.

The house was quiet, the hum of the propane refrigerator and the soft tick of the battery-operated clock, the only sounds.

“Ruth?” she called softly, inching her way into the house. She gently pushed Samuel behind her. “Ruth?”

The sound came again and sounded a lot like a . . . sob.

“Ruth?” Rachel crept down the hall until she reached the bedroom she knew to be Ruth and Abram’s.

The door had been left open just a crack. Rachel gently pushed it open unsure as to what she might find, and was utterly dismayed when she found Ruth lying across the bed, silent sobs wracking her body.

“Ruth?”

The older woman jerked, sat up straight, and started wiping her tears on her apron.

Rachel rushed to her side as Samuel hung back at the door. “Ruth, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine.” She sniffed once and wiped her tears with the back of one hand.

“That doesn’t look like fine.”

Ruth pushed herself to her feet. “I’m fine,” she insisted.

Rachel crossed her arms. “It is a sin to lie, Ruth Fisher.”

Tears immediately started in her mossy green eyes once again.

Rachel turned toward Samuel. “
Liebschdi
, why don’t you go to the kitchen and see if you can find some of those cookies.”

Samuel nodded. “
Jah
, Wachel.”

Once he was out of earshot, she turned back to Ruth. Rachel took her hands in her own and urged Ruth to sit on the edge of the bed. Rachel took up a place next to her.

“Now, tell me what’s got you crying like a leaky faucet?”

Ruth hesitated before taking a deep shuddering breath. “I found another lump.”

“Oh, Ruth.” Rachel felt her insides crumple like an old piece of paper. She hadn’t been there when Ruth Fisher went through all of her cancer treatments, but she had heard talk of her illness, seen her around town in her bonnet, near empty from the lack of hair due to the harsh treatments.

Ruth shuddered, and Rachel realized they were forgetting one very important detail. “God’s in charge,” she said.

“W-what?”

Rachel stiffened her spine and gave the older women a firm nod. “God’s in charge here. He didn’t bring you all this way for nothing.”

“I-I . . . I don’t know.”

“Well, I do.” Rachel folded her hands in her lap and nodded again. “You’ll go have the test and—” She stopped as Ruth shook her head.

“I’m not going to the doctor.”

“But, Ruth, you must.”

She wiped her eyes and sniffed, her shoulders gradually straightening until she seemed to settle into her plan. “
Nay
, I’ll not cost the district any more money than I already have.”

“But—”

It was Ruth’s turn to interrupt. “If the cancer is back, then it was God’s will all along. I’ll not go against Him again.”

“You believe that by fighting the disease the first time that you were going against Him?”

“I don’t know.” Ruth shrugged. “But I can’t go through that again.”

Rachel’s heart ached at those near-whispered words. “But your family—”

Ruth looked Rachel in the eyes, unwavering. “Won’t know anything about it.”

Rachel shook her head, the tickle of her
kapp
strings against her throat seemed surreal. “I don’t know if that’s a
gut
idea.”

“
Gut
or not isn’t the matter. I don’t want them to know.”

“Ruth, I—”

She took Rachel’s hand in her own. Her fingers were trembling, a little on the cold side despite the increasing heat on the Oklahoma spring day. “Promise me, Rachel. Promise me that you won’t say anything.” She squeezed her hand, green eyes blazing. “Promise me, Rachel.”

“I . . . I promise.” Her stomach sank as she said the words.