A Reluctant Bride (20 page)

She thought about the bruises on his body. “Are you afraid of him now?”

He paused, then shook his head. “Not anymore. I feel sorry for him.”

She frowned, not expecting that answer. “I don't understand.”

“It's complicated, Sadie.”

“Everything is complicated.”

He shifted on his feet, and she thought he would walk out the door. Instead he walked over and sat down on the floor next to her, leaving plenty of space between them.

“Bees are complicated,” he said after a long stretch of silence.

“What?”

“They have a complex hierarchy. All the bees have to work together for the colony to survive. But there's also a beautiful simplicity to them.”

“They sting, Aden,” she said, confused by the sudden change of subject.

“Only when they feel threatened. Can you really blame them for that?”

She shook her head. “
Nee
.”

“Once their hives are established, they follow a routine. They don't deviate from it. It allows them to produce honey, honeycomb, beeswax, royal jelly . . . they are amazing creatures.”

Sadie watched him as he explained the bees, oddly pleased to see the pain slip from his expression, replaced by a spark of excitement in his eyes and a twitch of a smile on his lips. Now she knew why he had shifted from talking about his brother to discussing bees. The tiny creatures somehow helped him cope.

She could see the light freckles on his face, the small cleft in his chin covered with a light shading of stubble, the fullness of his bottom lip . . . they all combined to make Aden Troyer a rather handsome man.

Feeling her cheeks heat, she dropped her gaze, rubbing her big toe against the rug.

“I'm sorry I intruded on you in the office,” he said, shifting the conversation again.

“You didn't. I mean, you did, sort of . . .” She sighed and looked at him. “The timing was bad, that's all.”

“I seem to have a knack for that.”

She thought about how he'd kept her from having to marry Sol, and thought his timing was pretty perfect. “
Danki
for taking care of the yard. I haven't had time to do it, with everything that's been going on. And the money you gave me—”

“Sadie, you don't have to shoulder everything alone.” He angled himself toward her. “I know the circumstances of our marriage are less than ideal—”

“No kidding,” she couldn't help saying, then felt bad for being sarcastic.

He gave her a wry smile. “I guess that was a big understatement. What I'm trying to say is that I can help. With the yard, the store, the
haus
—anything you need me to do, I'll do it. Anything I have is yours.”

“Why?” The question flew out of her mouth, but she couldn't stop herself. “Why are you so willing to help me?”

He faced her fully now. “Because you deserve to be happy.”

For a moment she was lost in his eyes, letting his sincerity and kindness wash over her. But in the next breath she raised her guard. There had to be a catch. “What do you want in return?”

Hurt flashed across his face, then his expression quickly turned to stone. “
Nix
,” he said, rising to his feet. “I don't want anything from you, Sadie. One day I hope you'll believe that.” He turned his back to her and walked out of the room.

Sadie stared at the empty doorway, trying to grasp his words. He wanted nothing from her? How was that possible? Yes, their Amish upbringing taught them to help their neighbors, but this went further than helping out a friend—and they weren't even friends.

She skipped supper, troubled that it was becoming harder to be unaffected by him. The anger and hatred had felt safe. Comfortable. Easier to handle than the fleeting moment of trust and connection she'd felt when they were talking in Abigail's room.

She washed up quickly for the night and hurried to her room. She removed her
kapp
, but as she had done on her wedding night, she kept her clothes on. Maybe that was his angle—he thought he'd softened her up. That she would welcome him in her bed tonight. She clutched at the edge of the quilt. If he tried anything, she knew how to stop him—the same way she'd stopped Sol.

Sadie waited for Aden to come. And waited. And waited, until she couldn't stay awake any longer.

When she woke the next morning, she was still alone, as she had been the entire night.

She changed into a fresh dress and went downstairs, the scent of brewing coffee in the air. She entered the kitchen and saw he'd prepared a simple breakfast—two boiled eggs with sliced bread and butter. A coffee mug was near the place setting, along with a cloth napkin and silverware. But he wasn't there.

She spotted a folded piece of paper near her plate and picked
it up. Opening it, she read the few sentences, written in small, neat handwriting.

Sadie,

I went to town to order supplies for the beehives. I didn't want to wake you. I'll be back this afternoon. Hope breakfast is okay. Aden

PS-we should talk about you going to visit your sisters. You must miss them.

She folded the note and put it back on the table, not knowing what to think. Another act of kindness. Two, if she counted him making her breakfast.

Sadie took her mug and poured the coffee. She took a sip and nearly choked. She picked up the pot and dumped the liquid into the sink, noticing that it wasn't a nice, rich brown but a deep black color. She put a fresh pot on the stove.

While she waited for it to percolate, she sat down, said a quick silent prayer, and tapped one of the eggs with her spoon. The shell broke, and instead of a firm, hardboiled egg, a gooey mess ran out of the shell. She put down her spoon. Aden was probably the worst cook she'd ever encountered.

And for the first time since her parents died, she smiled.

He'd tried to make her a good breakfast, and that meant more to her than if he'd prepared perfect coffee and eggs. To top it off, he'd realized without her saying a word that she needed to see Abigail and Joanna.

Her smile dimmed as she tried to tell herself yet again that she couldn't trust him. But the words rang false, and a little part of her started to hope that while she and Aden would never love
each other, they could come to some kind of understanding. Perhaps there could be peace in her life after all.

A knock sounded at the back door. She stood up, wondering who would be visiting her this early. She opened the door, and her legs buckled at the sight of Sol.

CHAPTER 11

E
mmanuel slid his finger under the flap of the sealed envelope. He pulled out the document and perused it. He'd expected this counter offer from one of the gas companies bidding for the natural gas rights he possessed. And as he expected, the amount wasn't enough. But he wasn't worried, and he put the letter back in the envelope. Other companies were interested in the rights, and once Timothy Glick signed over what he owned, Emmanuel would have more to bargain with.

Other than Timothy's claim, there was only one more claim he needed to acquire, one that made the other properties pale in comparison.

He leaned back in the stiff chair in his office and tapped the wood desk with his fingers. Now that Aden technically owned everything that belonged to Sadie, it was time for Emmanuel to make his move. Aden would have to do what Matthew Schrock hadn't done before he died—turn over his natural gas rights to the community. And as the steward of the community fund, the rights would have to be transferred into Emmanuel's name.

Emmanuel frowned as he remembered the excuses Matthew had given him for not signing over the rights, the latest one being that he couldn't find the paperwork. After visiting Matthew's chaotic office, Emmanuel understood why. But he still suspected Matthew had been stalling. However, that didn't matter, now that his son controlled the rights in question.

He stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked to the window. No curtains covered the glass panes, and he stared at his front yard, contemplating his next move. Aden wasn't the only wild card involved. Instead of Solomon heeding Emmanuel's warning to get his act together, he had done the opposite. Emmanuel had heard his son stumble home the past three nights, probably full to the gills with liquor. Yesterday Tobias Chupp, Solomon's boss and owner of Chupp's Carpentry, had stopped by and told Emmanuel he would have to let Solomon go since he hadn't shown up for work the past two days, and his attendance had been spotty recently.

Emmanuel sighed. Even the promise of a secure future had done nothing to curb Solomon's bad behavior. He would have to be dealt with, and soon.

The door opened and he turned to see Rhoda enter with a cup of tea. He smiled his thanks as she set it on the desk, expecting her to leave right away, as she always did when he was working.

But for some reason she stayed. Her hands were folded in front of her apron, her head bent slightly so he could see the neat part of her graying hair. He knew when he married her she would be the perfect wife, and after twenty-seven years together, that hadn't changed. She knew her place, knew how important it was to support him as a bishop and a husband. She didn't question him or pressure him to make her privy to his private dealings,
both personal and business. Whatever she needed to say must be weighing on her mind. “What is it,
frau
?” he asked.

She lifted her head slightly, the creases on her forehead and around her eyes visible in the morning light filling the room. She'd been a beauty in her day, yet over the years he held her deference to him in higher esteem.

“I was hoping we could stop by and see Aden and . . . Sadie,” she said, pausing. “Perhaps today, if you aren't too busy.”

He didn't let on that he had been entertaining a similar idea. “Don't you think they deserve some time alone together?”

“
Ya
.” She lifted her head a little more, now looking him in the eye. “I just thought they might like the company.”

“You want to check up on them.” He picked up his tea and took a sip.

“I want to see how they're doing,
ya
. When Aden left the other day, he was so angry. And Sol.” She cast her gaze down again. “I'm concerned about them both.”

“I understand.” Emmanuel looked down at his wife. “We'll
geh
see them today. I have a few items to take care of here and then we can leave.”

Her pale lips formed a smile. “I'll package up the raisin oatmeal cookies I made last night.”

“I'm sure Sadie and Aden will appreciate the treat.”

When she left the room, Emmanuel sat back down. He couldn't deny the love in his wife's blue eyes when she talked about her sons. She viewed them through a rosy lens, only seeing the good and never the bad. When they were younger, she had been the one they sought out to fill their empty bellies and patch up their skinned knees. She had never disciplined them, seemingly content to leave that up to Emmanuel, since she never interfered. In her eyes her two boys were without flaw or blemish.

But they were men now, and both had pulled away from her over the years. Which was as it should be. He had left his home and family for a better life, one he had worked hard for. God had entrusted him with much, and he took that responsibility seriously.

Emmanuel opened the middle drawer of his desk and pulled out a small notebook. He laid it open and looked at the calculations. If only everyone knew how diligent he was with the community fund. How carefully he managed the money. He didn't trust banks, never had. And he weighed any request for help against the needs of the community as a whole.

He thought of Freemont Yoder, who had recently asked for a good-sized amount of the money. Emmanuel didn't see the point in giving him a handout, not when there were people in the community who could donate extra food to the family. Freemont would plant more crops next year, and if those failed, then they would talk about what could be done. Perhaps the failure of the crop was a spiritual issue. No one else's crops had been spoiled the way Freemont's had. Then again, Freemont also planted more than anyone else in their community.

Whatever the reason, Emmanuel couldn't entrust such a large sum of money in the hands of a man—or a woman, since Sadie had also asked for financial help—who didn't know how to handle it. He'd seen firsthand what happened when money was mismanaged, when not just a single family but an entire group of people lived in poverty due to the mistakes of one man. He wouldn't allow that in Birch Creek.

He looked at Timothy's name, saw the blank in the column beside it, and frowned. He'd been suspicious of the man since he'd first visited Birch Creek. When Patience's family had privately told Emmanuel that their daughter was marrying someone from another district, Emmanuel wanted to put a stop to it right
away. But he had to be realistic—the women in their church outnumbered the men. It was only a matter of time before outsiders would have to be a part of the community or it would fade away. That, or they would have to join with another church—something Emmanuel would never allow.