Gabriel's Bride (38 page)

He couldn’t allow those doubts to take root. He’d come to get her and take her back to where she belonged. That was his plan, and he was steadfast.

“Gabriel?”

He turned, spying the young woman who had opened the door to him earlier. She smiled hesitantly and motioned him to come on in. “I’m Amanda Byler. Rachel’s cousin.” She held open the door to allow him inside.

Strange lot these Ohio Amish, leave a man on the porch for nigh on twenty minutes only to invite him in like he was the Lord Himself coming to call.

“You wrote me the letter.”

“
Jah
.” She nodded and Gabriel noticed that the strings on her prayer
kapp
were tied tight under her chin. She wore dark, drab gray that did nothing to hide the sparkling light in her sea blue eyes. “I told Rachel that you were here.”

“Is she well enough to visit with me?” It was a cryin’ shame that a man had to ask to see his own wife, but that was where he found himself.

“
Jah, jah,
” Amanda said, nodding vigorously though she didn’t quite meet his gaze. “She’s very excited to see you.”

Amanda led him into a sitting room of sorts, nothing like he’d ever seen in Clover Ridge. “If you’ll wait here . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence, just gave a little flip of her hand and disappeared through a doorway covered with a thick dark curtain.

Gabriel wandered around the room, looking out the window that showed the front yard, running his fingers over the backs of the wooden framed furniture, measuring his steps on the large rug that was both humble and beautiful in its simplicity. As far as he could tell the room was used just for sittin’ and maybe visitin’. There was no fireplace, no woodstove. It had to be mighty cool in there come the wintertime.

He sat down on the sofa, making himself as comfortable as possible, though his nerves had him perching on the edge of his seat. He just wanted to see his wife. He just wanted to see Rachel.

A small movement stirred at the doorway, and he turned. There she stood. His Rachel. Her hair was smoothed back neatly from her face, so tidy and proper that he almost didn’t recognize her. Prayer
kapp
tied tightly beneath her chin. What had Ohio done to his scatterbrained wife that made her so . . . capable and composed? What happened to her
strubbly
hair and infectious smile?

She wore a dress of the ugliest color he had ever seen, something akin to a dried-out prune. But he would have known her eyes anywhere, doe brown and luminous. Her color looked good enough, and he thought that maybe his prayers had been answered and her health restored.

His eyes traveled hungrily down her frame taking in the bulge at her waist, its purpose sending chills though him.

“
Goedemiddag
, Gabriel.”

“You’re with child.” He found himself on his feet even though he didn’t remember standing.

She ran a small hand over her large belly, a smile worthy of the Madonna curving her lips. “
Jah
.”

“But how?”

Pink flushed her cheeks, but she said not a word.

“I mean, I know
how
, but . . . why didn’t you tell me?”

She moved slowly through the room and eased herself down into the chair opposite him. She was so round, her belly big and cumbersome. He belatedly clasped her elbows and supported her as she sat.

He collapsed into the chair behind him, his mind calculating the time since they had first been together and the months since she had been gone. She couldn’t be more than five months pregnant, five and a half at most, and yet she looked as if she was ready to give birth there on the spot.

“I—” He shut his mouth and reopened it to try again. “It’s been only a few months.” He finally managed.

“Go ahead and say it,” she chided. “We’ve been through too much not to be honest with one another.”

“Your belly is so big.”

She laughed, and he immediately wanted to call the words back.

“It is at that,” she said. “You see, I’m having twins.”

“We’re having twins.” He repeated the sentiment, his voice bewildered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted one baby, much less two.”

“You didn’t ask me.”

She gave him a sad little smile. “Our marriage was a disaster from the start. I should have never agreed to be your housekeeper. You should have never asked me to marry you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think the bishop would agree with you there.”

She shrugged. He hated her expression. He couldn’t read her. When she had been in Oklahoma with him he’d been able to interpret every nuance of her emotions. Or at least thought he could. Now her features were carefully sculpted into the mask of peace before him.

“How do you think it looks for me to be a deacon? Do you know how hard it is to tell people that you’ve run off?”

She awkwardly pushed herself to her feet. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Her words were punctuated with another of those plastic smiles.

Gabriel stood on his trembling legs, his thoughts a tangled jumble of unspoken pleas.

She walked to the door as if to see him out. But he wasn’t leaving until he had his say.

“Rachel.” He followed behind her, stopping close enough to reach out and cup her cheek in the palm of his hand. “I love you. And I want you to return to Clover Ridge with me. I
need
you to come home. We all do.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut it short, placing one finger over her lips. “You don’t have to say anything now. I’ll be back tomorrow. We can talk more then.”

She nodded.

He wanted to lean in, kiss those trembling lips, tell her again how much she had come to mean to him. But he needed to give her a little time, a chance to convince herself to come with him. He wanted her home, but he wanted her to believe it was all her idea.

As he stepped out into the cool Ohio afternoon, one thing was certain: He wasn’t leaving here without his wife.

Rachel closed the door behind Gabriel and longed to slip down into the floor and cry her eyes out. Instead she waddled to the couch where her husband had been sitting when she first greeted him and sank down into his warmth. She inhaled deeply, the smell of him surrounding her like a comforting embrace.

He had come looking for her.

She bit back a sob. Oh, how she had messed this one up. Everyday she said prayers asking forgiveness. Her thoughtlessness had almost cost Samuel his life. Despite everyone’s assurances that it “could have been worse,” and that the accident was God’s will, she knew that it was her fault. If only she had told him no, that he couldn’t go to the creek with his
bruders,
then he would be safe and whole and not having to learn how to make his numbers and letters with a hand missing two fingers.

“Rachel?” Amanda came into the room. “I thought I heard the door.”

She nodded, unable to find her voice amid the threatening tears.

“Did Gabriel leave?”

“
Jah
.”

Amanda sat down on the couch next to her. “He came to get you,
jah
?”

“
Jah
,” Rachel whispered.

“Then why did he leave?”

Rachel stood unable to deal with the emotions running through her. Anger, confusion, self-loathing. “I don’t know.”

Amanda shook her head. “What about the babies?”

Gabriel was nothing if not honorable. Of course he would want her to go with him. Of course he would want his children near.

“If I am here and he is there, how can there be any talk about the babies?”

Why would God give her not one
boppli
but two when it was so painfully obvious that she couldn’t be trusted with one that was half grown? How was she going to care for the little ones, feed them, and keep them safe from harm?

“But . . . but how will you live here, Rachel, when your husband is so many miles away?”

It all came down to that. She had known before she came that Albert Byler only wanted her to come to help him with his brood of eleven. Now that she was adding two of her own to the mix, he was less than pleased.

If only she had her goats, she could use them to support herself. She could get a house of her own. Just her and the babies . . . If only she had known before she left. If only, if only, if only . . .

“I think you should consider his offer,” Amanda said quietly.

Rachel blinked at her, unsure she heard right. “Accept his offer?”

“You should at least give it some thought.”

She didn’t know what to say. There was so much that stood in their way. She was no deacon’s wife. It took so much of her time just to keep her hair properly covered. She was terrible with the boys. She’d almost let Samuel die and the others had done everything in their power to chase her away. Perhaps they had known from the start what she only learned later: That she was no bride.

“Was he mean to you, Rachel? Did he hurt you? Was he unfaithful? Untrue?”

“
Nay
.”

Amanda took her hand and squeezed it gently, as if the touch alone could impart some faith and strength. “He hasn’t turned his back on God. He hasn’t turned his back on you. Will you be so selfish to deny your children the life they should have?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but Rachel made no move to wipe them away. Her hands inside Amanda’s warm ones trembled as they gained the support and love that she needed.

“I wrote Gabriel. I’m the reason he came. I told him you were unwell and needed him. That’s why he’s here. Not because of the bishop, but because he cares about you. I daresay he even loves you.”

Love.
There was that word again. But Gabriel had told her long ago that he wasn’t looking for love. He’d had that with Rebecca. Like lightning never striking the same place twice, so it was with love. One love per lifetime, and he’d already had his.

“He doesn’t love me.” Rachel had said the words many times in her mind, but saying them out loud pained her more than she could say. He might have said that he did, but he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t.

Could he?

Amanda shook her head. “He does. I could see it in his eyes whenever I mentioned your name.”

She wanted to believe that. Oh, how she wanted to believe. “I need some time to think about this.”

Amanda released her hands and stood. “
Jah
. I’ll go make us some tea.”

Rachel gave a little nod, then laid her head back against the couch cushion. There was a lot to consider.

23

T
he next afternoon, Rachel opened the door and led Gabriel into the sitting room, too tired to battle with words. She hadn’t slept much the night before. The babies seemed to sense her turmoil and kicked all night long. No matter what position she switched to, one of them was unhappy and not bashful about letting her know it.

A frown knit Gabriel’s brows as he took in her appearance. “Are you feeling okay today?”

She gave a quick nod, still unaccustomed to the feel of her prayer
kapp
tied tightly under her chin.

“I brought these for you.” He held out a bunch of flowers tied up with a pretty yellow ribbon. She stared at them, perplexed until he explained. “It’s an
Englisch
courtin’ custom.”

She took the flowers, her hand shaking. “Is that what this is? A courtin’?”

“
Jah
.” He nodded, shifting from one foot to the other, visibly uncomfortable. “I don’t have a buggy to take you for a ride. And I reckon we’re both too old for a singin’.”

She hid her smile, burying her nose in the fragrant blossoms rather than let him see how easy it was to get to her.

“Sit down,” she offered, still hiding behind the flowers. “I’ll put these in some water.”

She made him wait a full five minutes before she returned to the sitting room. Without comment she deposited her ungainly form into the chair across from him and folded her hands across her overlarge belly.

“Did you have a chance to think about my offer?”

She tilted her head to one side, as if thinking about their conversation the day before. “I do not recall an offer.”