An Amish Match

“I can see where you’d find that confusing,” he said as he glanced around the kitchen.

“Confusing?” More laughter erupted from her, and she pressed her hands over her belly. “Is that what you call this chaos?”

Deborah giggled. “Daedi always uses twice as many dishes and pans because he starts making one thing and ends up cooking something else entirely.”

“It’s usually because I don’t have one of the ingredients,” Joshua said, his lips twitching.

“Or you don’t remember the recipe,” Levi crowed.

“Ja, that’s true.” Joshua dropped the dishrag on the table and took off his best hat. “I can put a buggy together with my eyes closed—or near to that—but baking a casserole trips me up every time.”

Laughter filled the kitchen as everyone joined in.

Picking up the cloth, Rebekah put it on the sink. “I’ll face this in the morning.”

“A gut idea.” To his kinder, he said, “Off to bed with you.”

“Will you come up for our prayers?” Levi asked.

“Ja.”

Deborah took Sammy’s hand. “Komm upstairs with me.”

“No,” Rebekah and Joshua said at the same time.

The little girl halted, clearly wondering what she’d done wrong.

“I’ll put him to bed,” Rebekah added. “Everything is new to him. Sammy, why don’t you give Deborah and Levi hugs?”

The little boy, who was half asleep on his feet, nodded and complied.

“You’re my brother now.” Deborah’s smile brightened her whole face. “When we found out Daedi was going to marry you, Rebekah, I was happy. I’m not the boppli of the family any longer.”

“Sammy will be glad to have a big sister and big brothers.” She looked at Levi, who gave her a shy smile. Should she offer to hug the kinder, too?

Before she could decide, the back door opened. Timothy came in, bringing a puff of humid air with him. He glared at them, especially Joshua, before striding through the kitchen. His footsteps resounded on the stairs as he went up.

Rebekah saw Joshua’s eyes narrow. Timothy hadn’t spoken to her once. At sixteen he didn’t need a mamm, but perhaps he would come to see her as someone he could trust. Maybe even eventually as a friend.

Subdued, Deborah and Levi went out of the kitchen. Their footfalls were much softer on the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” Joshua said into the silence.

She scooped up Sammy and cradled him. “He’s a teenager. It’s not easy.”

“I realize that, but I hope you realize his rudeness isn’t aimed at you. It’s aimed at me.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw, then down his beard. “I don’t know how to handle him because I wasn’t a rebellious kid myself.”

“I wasn’t, either.”

“Too bad.” The twinkle returned to his eyes. “If you’d been, you might be able to give me some hints on dealing with him.”

She smiled at his teasing. He’d been someone she’d deemed a friend for years. She must—they must—make sure they didn’t lose that friendship as they navigated this strange path they’d promised to walk together.

Joshua pointed at her and put a finger to his lips. She looked down to see Sammy was once more asleep. Joshua motioned for her to come with him.

Rebekah followed him through the living room. It looked as it had the last time she had been there before Matilda died. The same furniture, the same paint, the same sewing machine in a corner. She glanced toward the front door. The same wooden clock that didn’t work. With a start she realized that under the piles of dishes and scattered clothing the kitchen was identical to when Matilda had been alive. It was as if time had stopped in this house with Matilda’s last breath.

Opening a door on the other side of the stairs, Joshua lit a lamp. The double bed was topped by a wild-goose-chase-patterned quilt done in cheerful shades of red and yellow and blue. He walked past it to a small bed his kinder must have used when they were Sammy’s age. Another pretty quilt, this one in the sunshine-and-shadow pattern done in blacks and grays and white, was spread across it. Drawing it back along with the sheet beneath it, he stepped aside so she could slip the little boy in without waking him.

She straightened and looked around. The bedroom was large. A tall bureau was set against the wall opposite the room’s two windows, and the bare floors shone with years of care. A quartet of pegs held a kapp, a dusty black bonnet and a straw hat. She wasn’t surprised when Joshua placed his gut hat on the empty peg.

This must have been Joshua and Matilda’s room. Suddenly the room seemed way too small. Aware of Joshua going to the bureau and opening the drawers, she lowered the dark green shades on the windows. She doubted Sammy would sleep late in the morning. Usually he was up with the sun.

She faced Joshua and saw he had gathered his work clothes. He picked them up from the blanket chest at the foot of the bed. His gaze slowly moved along her, and so many emotions flooded his eyes she wasn’t sure if he felt one or all at the same time. Realizing she was wringing her hands, she forced her arms to her sides.

It was the first time they’d been alone as man and wife. They stood in the room he’d shared with his first wife. She didn’t trust her voice to speak, even if she had the slightest idea what to say as she looked at the man who was now her husband. The weight on the first word she spoke was enormous. There were a lot of things she wanted to ask about the life they’d be sharing. She didn’t know how.

“Gut nacht,” he said into the strained silence. “I’ll be upstairs. Second door to the left. Don’t hesitate to knock if you or Samuel need anything. I know it’ll take you a while to get used to living in a new place.”

“Danki.”

He waited, but she couldn’t force her lips to form another word. Finally, with a nod, he began to edge past her. When she jumped back, fearful he was angry with her, he stared at her in astonishment.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, though she was as far from okay as she could be. It was beginning again. The ever-present anxiety of saying or doing the wrong thing and being punished by her husband’s heavy hand.

“Are you sure?” His eyes searched her face, so she struggled to keep her expression calm as she nodded again.

He started to say something else, then seemed to think better of it. He bid her gut nacht again before he went out of the room.

She pressed her hands to her mouth to silence her soft sob as the tears she’d kept dammed for the whole day cascaded down her cheeks. She should be grateful Joshua had given her and Sammy this lovely room. And she was. But she also felt utterly alone and scared.

“What have I done?” she whispered to the silence.

She’d made, she feared, another huge mistake by doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.

Chapter Four (#ulink_66fc16b2-1b51-561e-9cd4-dd1c62a2b635)

Joshua’s first thought when he opened his eyes the next morning was, Where am I? The angle of the ceiling was wrong. There was a single window, and the walls were too close to the bed.

Memory rushed through his mind like a tempest, wild and flowing in every direction. Yesterday he’d married Rebekah, his best friend’s widow.

Throwing back the covers, he put his feet on the rug by the bed. His beloved Tildie had started making rugs for the bedrooms shortly after they were wed, and she’d replaced each one when it became too worn. As he looked down through the thick twilight before dawn, he saw rough edges on the one under his feet. Sorrow clutched his heart. His sweet wife would never make another rug for the kinder.

Rebekah was his wife now. For better or for worse, and for as long as they lived.

He drew in a deep breath, then let it sift past his taut lips. He’d honored Lloyd’s request, and he shouldn’t have any regrets. He didn’t. Just a question.