A Reluctant Bride (29 page)

D
arkness had descended by the time Aden reached his parents' house. He turned into the driveway, still trying to understand what had happened between him and Sadie. On the surface things were simple—they'd tried to bathe Homer, and then she'd given Aden a haircut. But like everything else in his life, it was more complex than that. He and Sadie had fun together during Homer's bath. He'd seen a light in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

He'd also seen her looking at him in the hallway. Had felt the tug of attraction that had been so one-sided on his part finally reciprocated, if only for a brief instant. For once he dared to hope that maybe his marriage could be something other than a forced arrangement.

Then he'd mentioned Sol, and that changed everything.

He brought Rusty to a halt and jumped out of the buggy, then shook his head. Hard. They had been married less than a week. How could he expect anything from her in such a short time? He had to remind himself of her loss. That pain still had
to be fresh, even though she never mentioned her grief, at least not to him. He also had to remember that her parents' deaths had brought them together. How could he be so selfish as to want so much from Sadie when he could give her so little?

But it was becoming harder to keep that in the forefront of his mind now that he'd seen her smile. Heard her laugh. Had felt her delicate fingers against his skin as she cut his hair.

Had seen the darkening of her eyes when she looked at him.

Aden tethered Rusty near the barn. Leaving the Schrocks' when he did had been the right thing to do. She'd been unnerved when he mentioned Sol, and he didn't blame her. But he wondered if something else had thrown her off balance too. He'd never thought his relationship with Sadie would be easy. There was too much history and too many bad circumstances between them. What he hadn't expected was how confusing it was. Or how much those small, happy moments he'd experienced meant to him. He didn't only want more from their relationship, he wanted to
give
more. He wanted her to be happy. Problem was, he didn't know how to make her happy.

Aden stared at his parents' house, seeing hazy lamplight shining through the front window. Now wasn't the time to puzzle over his marriage. He had to focus on figuring out what was going on with Sol.

He went to the front door and knocked. His mother opened it, and Aden could immediately see that something was wrong. Her expression was difficult to read in the low light of the lamp and the darkness outside, but her body language wasn't. Her shoulders were hunched more than usual, and she was rubbing her hands together, something she did when she was upset. “
Mamm?
” he asked.

“
Kumme
inside, Aden.” His father had appeared behind
Mamm
. She stepped aside and Aden walked in.

“What's going on?” Aden asked, his gaze darting from his mother to his father.

“Aden, sit down.” His father gestured to the hickory rocker near the doorway.

After seeing his mother's red-rimmed eyes, he shook his head. “I'll stand.” Dread pooled in his stomach. “What happened to Sol?”

“He's gone. Since yesterday,” his father said, with little emotion in his voice.

Mamm
drew in a sharp breath. “Excuse me,” she said hoarsely and rushed out of the room.

Aden started to go after her, but stopped when his father grabbed Aden's forearm and squeezed. “She'll be fine.”

Aden glared at him. “What do you mean Sol's gone?”

“He's in the
bann
.”

“
What?
”

The bishop eyed him evenly. “Do not pretend that you don't know Solomon's drinking has gotten out of hand.”

“It's been out of hand for a long time.” Aden glanced at the entrance to the kitchen, where his mother had gone. No wonder she was so upset. He turned back to his father. “You're the one who's been pretending.” The words flew out of his mouth.

“Watch
yer
tone.” His father's jaw jerked beneath his long beard.

“I can't believe you put him in the
bann
.” Ignoring his father, he started to pace.

“Solomon made a choice. He chose drink over his family, community, and faith.”

“And you couldn't have tried to help him first?” Aden spun around, his anger rising. Part of him couldn't believe he was defending Sol after everything his brother had done. Yet it wasn't
until now that he realized how alone Sol was. The one person who could help him the most not only refused to but sent him away. “How could you,
Daed
?” he muttered. “He needs—”

“To be excised from our lives, before his poisonous behavior affects others.”

“What about
Mamm
? Can't you see she's heartbroken?”

“Solomon broke her heart, not me.”

Aden stood there, staring at his father. He didn't think his
daed
could be any more cold-blooded than he was at that moment. “Where did he
geh
?”

The bishop shrugged. “That isn't
mei
concern. You know the rules of the
bann
, Aden. If Solomon comes to you, turn him away.”

“His horse and buggy are still in
mei
barn.”

“Return them to me.”

“They belong to Sol.”

“Enough!” His father's cheeks turned red as he took a step forward. His glare shot through Aden like a bullet. “You dare argue with me? Question
mei
authority as
yer
spiritual leader?”

Out of habit, Aden shrank back. He'd been on the receiving end of his father's anger and biting glares. But this time it was different. This time the rage seemed barely contained. The bishop's shoulders twitched, his mouth pressed so thin it was almost invisible. His words made him seem unaffected by sending Sol away, but he wasn't.

His father suddenly relaxed, the angry glare dissolving into his usual disengaged expression. “Did you find the papers?”

Are you kidding me?
Sol was gone, his mother was hurting, and his father's main concern was those stupid papers.
And the money. Don't forget this is all about money.
“
Nee
,” he grumbled.

The bishop's eyes narrowed. “Then I suggest you keep looking.” He started to leave the room.

“Can I at least see
Mamm
?”

His father turned. “Find the papers first.” Then he left the room.

Aden put both hands on the back of his neck. He wanted to yell. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to shake sense and compassion into his father. So many things didn't make sense. Wasn't Sol the favored son? A shiver ran through him at the reminder that his father was going to let Sol marry Sadie. He hadn't cared at the time about the drinking. Of course he wouldn't. His
daed
would do anything to get his hands on those papers, including uniting Sadie with an alcoholic for the rest of her life, all in the name of money. The realization chilled him.

He looked around the familiar living room. Saw the plain, old furniture. The lack of any kind of décor. His mother had been wearing the same dresses for years, although she continually mended them to make sure they looked presentable. Aden had worn Sol's hand-me-downs because, according to his father, “they were perfectly fine, and it's unnecessary for both
buwe
to have new clothes.” They had always eaten simple, inexpensive food, mostly vegetables grown and canned from his mother's garden. His parents owned one horse and buggy. There were no signs of wealth anywhere. The only signs of greed had been his father's insistence that Aden turn over any money he made from his honey business. But after what Timothy had told him, after his father's threat to Sadie, and now him
banning
Sol . . . something deeper—and darker—was going on.

“Aden?”

He turned at the soft sound of his mother's voice and hurried to her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, but didn't speak, her eyes welling up.

He put his arm around her shoulder. “Where's
Daed
?” he said quietly.

“Outside.” Her voice sounded like it was moving through a rusty screen. “Smoking his pipe.” She looked up at him. “Whatever
yer vatter
tells you to do, Aden, you need to do it.”

“But Sol—”

“Has chosen his own path.” Her lower lip trembled and she pressed her teeth against it. “I have always put
mei sohns
in the Lord's hands. Solomon is loved, Aden. You might find that hard to believe right now, but he is. As are you.” She put her hand against his cheek. Please . . . don't argue with
yer vatter
. Don't fight against him. It will
geh
easier for you . . . for all of us . . . if you don't.”

Aden shook his head. He'd taken the easy path all his life. He'd cowered in fear from his father and brother, had believed them when they said he was weak. A coward. Worthless. But would he be all those things if he had stood up for himself? If he'd refused to keep the family secrets?

He looked at his mother, his heart constricting at the pain and pleading in her eyes, and he knew he couldn't refuse her. If he were the only person at risk, he'd challenge his father. But he wasn't. Others could be collateral damage. His mother. Sadie. Even Sadie's sisters could be brought into the fray. He wouldn't put that past his father. He wouldn't put anything past his
daed
again.

He bent down and kissed his mother's cheek, something he hadn't done since he was a little boy. “I love you,” he said softly, not wanting the bishop to hear. She needed to know she was loved too.

The tears flooding her eyes spilled. She wiped them quickly away, nodded, and pulled out of his one-armed embrace to hurry out of the room.

Sadie's eyes opened when she heard the kitchen door shut. She sat up from the couch, not realizing she'd fallen asleep. It was late, late enough for her to have been in bed already. But she couldn't bring herself to go upstairs, not when she knew Aden was at his parents', trying to find out about Sol. After she composed herself when he left, she had a moment of panic. What if Sol came back while Aden was gone? Maybe that was what he was waiting for, to get her alone. And for an instant she was angry with Aden for leaving her by herself. He had promised to protect her. How could he do that if he wasn't here?

Then she'd had a moment of clarity. She couldn't keep living in fear. She couldn't put her dependence and faith in Aden. Not because she didn't trust him, but because it wasn't fair to him.
God is my rock . . . in him I will trust . . .

So she had prayed. She'd prayed for courage, for her sisters . . . and for Aden.

She rose from the couch at the same time Aden walked into the living room. He looked haggard, his shorter hair matted from wearing his hat. He stopped when he saw her, and she remained by the couch, unable to move, but unable to deny that she wanted to go to him.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing up?”

The sorrow and heaviness in his voice propelled her to him. She stopped a few feet in front of him, clasping her hands together. “Waiting for you.”

She thought she heard him sigh. He raked a hand through his hair, pulling a thick hank back from his forehead. Conflicting emotions flitted through his eyes, barely discernible in the low
light of the gas lamp. He didn't say anything, just looked at her with quiet desperation.

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked. The question seemed so inconsequential, yet she didn't know what else to say.

“
Nee
.” He rubbed a patchy spot on his reddish beard and continued to look at her.

Something strong tugged inside her. She couldn't go upstairs and leave him alone. Not now. “What happened?”

“Sol's gone,” he said flatly. “He's in the
bann
.”

That news shocked her. Only two other people had ever been put in the
bann
—both men, both in their thirties. They left the community and never returned. Sadie hadn't seen or heard about them again. The bishop hadn't divulged the reason they were in the
bann
, just that they had been disobedient. That definitely summed up Sol.

“I'm not sure what to do,” Aden said, shaking his head.

Sadie clenched her hands tightly together. “Do you have to do anything?”

“He's
mei bruder
, Sadie.”

“I'm aware of that.” She calmed the bite in her tone. “Maybe it's for the best.”

He walked past her, and she thought she'd upset him. But instead of going upstairs like she expected, he sat down on the couch. “Part of me believes that. Another part of me . . .” He put his head in his hands.

She sat next to him as he struggled with his emotions. “Aden,” she said softly, not wanting to upset him further, but unable to keep her thoughts to herself, “why do you care?”