A Reluctant Bride (10 page)

Before Sol could say anything else, Aden fled the room. He had to warn Sadie. He had no idea what he would say, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing.

He couldn't allow Sadie's worst nightmare to come true.

Sol's head pounded as he pulled on his trousers, barely noticing as Aden ran out the door. Marriage to Sadie Schrock. He had to let that sink into his hangover-addled brain. He was having a hard time comprehending it. He had liked her at one time—a lot, more than he'd liked any girl in their district. She had a unique beauty that he'd found irresistible when he was eighteen. Yet anytime he tried to show her the slightest bit of friendliness, she'd barely acknowledged him. When she did, she always cut him with irritated glances and caustic frowns. He could have any girl he wanted, and more than a couple had definitely let him know they were willing. But unlike those other girls, Sadie had acted like she was above him. Like his existence on earth
annoyed
her.

He'd wanted to teach her a lesson that day in the cornfield.
He'd been drinking that afternoon too. Homemade beer, which had been easy to get from his friend Jalon, whose father had been making his own beer for years. When he saw Sadie walking on the side of the road, alone, he reacted. He had only wanted a kiss, but once his lips had touched hers, something shifted in his mind and body, and he suddenly wanted more.

He'd sensed her repulsion as he kissed her. Felt her fighting against him. She didn't want him even though he was the bishop's son. She looked down on him like he was horse manure on the sole of her shoe. And when she kneed him and left him curled up in agony on the ground, any romantic interest in her disappeared.

He shook his aching head at the irony that his father thought marriage between him and Sadie Schrock was a good idea. The only person who would benefit would be
Daed
. He knew exactly what his father's true reasons were for arranging a marriage with Sadie. He was the only one who knew.

Sol let out a long breath. This wasn't what he'd envisioned for his future. Then again, his future had been bleak for so long, he didn't dare look very far ahead. Getting through each day was an accomplishment.

A thought occurred to him, making him pause in the middle of slipping on a black sock. Marrying Sadie meant he would be
free
. At least somewhat free—until his father got what he wanted out of the arrangement. Even after that he would still owe loyalty to his father, but as a member of the congregation. Not as a son trapped in a situation—in a family—he was desperate to escape.

He finished putting on his socks as he heard his father's approaching footsteps on the stairs. He couldn't afford to think about Sadie except as a means to an end—and he refused to feel guilty about it. When the door opened, he stood and met his
father's steady gaze, ignoring the pulsing throb in his head. He smoothed his hands over his hair and tried to look presentable and not like he'd been on a night-long bender and slept part of it off in a grassy field.

“Solomon,” his father said as he entered the room. He closed the door and faced him, his nose wrinkling as he took an audible breath. His look traveled from Sol's head down to his feet, then back up again.

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Sol could see every thought in his eyes. The disappointment. The derision. The repulsion. What he'd never seen from his father was caring, or compassion, or love. He used to crave that from him and would do anything
Daed
asked to try to gain it—even if it meant destroying his relationship with his brother. But he'd never succeeded in earning it, and he'd given up trying.

Except now he had another chance, not only to be free, but to gain his father's respect.

Daed
set his stony eyes on Sol. “
Sohn
, we need to talk.”

After his father explained his plan and Sol's part in it, Sol nodded. “I'll marry her,” he said, his breath held as he waited for his father to respond.

His father didn't say anything, only nodded and opened the door.

“
Daed
,” Sol said, unable to stop himself. When his father turned, Sol asked, “What if I'd said
nee
?”

His father regarded him for a long moment, his eyes as flat as they usually were when they dealt with each other. “You wouldn't have.”

Sol sank down onto the bed after his father left. He rubbed his aching head and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. This wasn't sitting well with him. Then again, not much in his
life had. He sat up, straightening his shoulders and steeling his nerve. Now he had a chance to change his future, and he would grab the opportunity and run. Sadie Schrock would just have to go along for the ride.

Still exhausted from lack of sleep and a preponderance of worry, Sadie walked into the store office and sank into her father's chair. She didn't know what she was going to do, and she was troubled by her visit to the bishop. She had needed his help, and he refused to give it. He'd lost her trust at that moment, and some of her respect.

Earlier that morning she'd skipped breakfast and gone outside for a walk. She needed to pray, to clear her head, to get away from the house that held so many memories that it was becoming difficult to be there alone. She missed Abigail and Joanna so much it ached. She didn't dare think about her parents for any length of time. That pain was more than she could bear. Focusing on her financial problems was stressful, but also a distraction.

Sadie didn't know how long she was gone, but by the time she returned she was hungry. She'd opened the door to the store and taken a snack package of donuts off the shelf, snatching a bottle of pop off another shelf as she made her way to the office. Not the best breakfast, but she didn't care. She needed something to stave off her hunger.

She stared at the powdered donuts on the desk and sighed. She had the thin plastic packaging halfway open when she heard the knob to the office door turn. She froze. She'd forgotten to lock the store door behind her. She'd never had a reason to be
afraid of being alone in the store before, but for some reason a cold shiver shook her spine.

“Hello, Sadie.” Bishop Troyer walked into the office, not waiting for an invitation. He closed the door behind him and sat down on a metal chair beside the desk, the one her mother used to sit on when she and her father shared their lunch in the office.

“Bishop Troyer,” Sadie said, her eyebrows lifting. “I'm surprised to see you so soon.”

He looked around the small room with intense curiosity before shifting his gaze back to her. “I told you I would be in touch.” He smiled.

“Then you've brought me a check?” she asked, hope igniting within. It was extinguished with the bishop's next words.

“
Nee
. But there is a way to resolve
yer
situation that will be best for everyone concerned.”

He was looking at her with complete surety and confidence. What she felt was the exact opposite, and she didn't want to hear what he had to say. “I've solved the problem myself,” she lied. “You don't have to be concerned about it anymore.”

He held up his hand. “Sadie, of course I'm concerned. How can I not be? I'm not only here for spiritual guidance, but for practical assistance as well. I'm sure
yer vatter
would be pleased to know that you and
yer
sisters will be well cared for.” He leaned closer to her. “I came here to offer you comfort, Sadie. A future and a hope.”

Her distrust of him grew with each word he spoke. “
Danki
, Bishop,” she said, struggling to keep her tone even. “But really, I'm okay. I had a moment of panic, but it's passed now.” She lifted her chin, hoping she showed a self-assurance she didn't feel.

“
Yer
reaction to
yer
situation has proved
mei
point.” The
bishop stood. “You shouldn't be alone, Sadie.” He opened the door and Sol came striding in.

Sudden fear propelled Sadie from the chair. “What is he doing here?”

Bishop Troyer motioned for Sol to stand beside him. “Solomon has offered to marry you.”

“
What?
” She looked from the bishop to Sol, trying to judge if they were serious. One glance at each of them told her they were. The bishop's lips formed a satisfied smile above his gray beard, and Sol was steadfast in his posture and expression. He looked almost . . . blank, but also determined.

This can't be happening . . .
She stumbled back, falling against the chair. “
Nee
. I'm not marrying
him
.”

“Sadie.” Bishop Troyer admonished as if he were addressing a five-year-old. “Surely you can see the practicality of having a husband to help you and
yer
sisters.”

“I don't care about being practical!”

The bishop's smile disappeared. “There's
nee
need to raise
yer
voice.” He turned to Sol, whose lips had tightened into a thin line. “Perhaps I should have a word alone with
yer
future bride.”

“I'm not his bride—not in the future, not ever.”

Bishop Troyer shifted his focus back on her. The coldness in his eyes chilled her blood.

Aden jerked the buggy to a stop outside Schrock Grocery and Tools. He'd been by earlier, but Sadie hadn't been home, and he'd spent the past hour driving to any place he could think of in Birch Creek where she might be. Finally he gave up and decided to check her house one last desperate time. Maybe she had gone
to see Joanna in the hospital. For her sake, he hoped so. He saw his father's buggy in the driveway and panicked, knowing Sadie had to be inside and fearing he was too late.

He hurried out of the buggy and ran into the store. Light shined from the back of the building, where the office was located. He headed there, stopping in front of the office door when he heard Sadie's trembling, angry voice.

“I'm not his bride—not in the future, not ever.”

Once he heard those words, he rushed into the room, knocking into his brother.

“Hey!” Sol snapped.

But Aden ignored him. “
Daed
, stop.” He took a deep breath, his pulse hammering through his body, his chest rising up and down. “Sadie can't marry Sol.”

“Shut up, Aden,” Sol said. “This doesn't concern you.”

“
Ya
, it does.” He scrambled, his mind frenzied. “Sol can't marry Sadie,” he repeated, grasping for something else to say, for the words to put a stop to this.

Sol was about to say something else, but their father held up his hand. “Why not, Aden?”

The words flew out of his mouth before they were fully formed in his brain. “Because . . . I'm marrying her.”

CHAPTER 5