A Reluctant Bride (9 page)

CHAPTER 4

S
adie sat on the hard wooden chair across from Bishop Troyer. He was behind a simple small desk. The surface was neat and tidy, with only a short stack of papers, a Bible, and a pen in sight. Such a stark contrast to her father's jumbled desktop. Sadie opened her purse and pulled out the legal pad she'd been writing on earlier. She kept her gaze averted as she handed it to him.

He perused the figures before carefully placing the pad on his desk. “This is all so tragic, Sadie. So . . . senseless.”

“I thought you said it was God's will.”

“Oh, it is. I have
nee
doubt about that. But knowing that it's God's will that
yer
parents departed this earth and left behind three daughters and an extraordinary amount of debt doesn't make it any less unfortunate.”

Sadie cringed, wishing she hadn't come. She'd never understood the bishop's tendency toward such formal speech. He sounded almost like he was from another time when he talked, especially when he preached. Since their district had been so
small for so long, he wasn't just the bishop, but also minister and deacon. He filled all the roles in the church, although she recalled her father saying a few weeks ago that since their numbers had grown, it might be the right time to select a minister or two. But as far as she knew, nothing ever came of that.

Tonight his words weren't just overly formal. They cut her deeply.

“I understand
yer
sisters are in Middlefield.” Bishop Troyer looked at Sadie, a slight frown tugging at his lips above his gray beard. “I wish you would have consulted me before making the decision to send Joanna there.”

“Middlefield has the closest rehabilitation center. There really wasn't much of a decision to make.”

“Still, it would have been nice to have been informed. Since
yer
father is
nee
longer here, I'd like you to consider me a
vatter
figure in his absence.”

Sadie stilled. “That's . . . kind of you, Bishop Troyer.” No one would ever,
ever
replace her father. She ignored his offer and got down to the real reason she was here. “I need some help. I plan on opening the store on Monday, but it will take time to get enough money to pay the expenses from the”—she swallowed the hard lump that had jumped to her throat—“accident.”

“I see.” He stared at her for a long moment.

She started to shrink beneath his gaze. His eyes were on her, but he seemed to be looking right through her. Why couldn't he give her what she needed so she could be on her way? The only good thing was that Sol didn't seem to be home. Seeing Aden had been bad enough.

Then the bishop's eyes seemed to focus, a spark of light glimmering from them. “I have the utmost sympathy for you, Sadie. You've lost
yer
parents,
yer
youngest sister is gravely injured, and
yer
other sister is away from home. You're alone, Sadie. All alone. That is a desperate place to be.”

“But I'm not alone,” she said. “God is with me.”

The bishop cleared his throat. “That is true. He is a Father to the fatherless.”

She lifted her chin. “I also have
mei
friends—”

“But it's not the same, is it?” He leaned forward in the chair. “Having friends who drop by, who pat you on the back and bring you casseroles and tell you everything will be all right, isn't what you want. It isn't what you need.”

“I don't understand.”

The bishop clasped his hands together. “So many responsibilities are being thrust upon you.” He started ticking off a list on his fingers. “The hospital bills. Running the store. Maintaining a household. Keeping up with the seven acres of property
yer
parents owned. It's too much for one person to handle. While God is
yer
spiritual Father, you also need someone to help you make the decisions you're incapable of making yourself.”

She popped up from the chair, indignant. She might be young, but she wasn't stupid. She could make any decision necessary, with prayer . . . and some financial help. “All I need is some money from the community fund. Which I will pay back as soon as possible.”

The bishop shook his head. “Really, now, Sadie. If you were a
mann
. . . maybe.”

A mann?
She had to force herself not to snap at him. Yes, she understood that her father had been the head of their household and that her future husband—which she did
not
intend to have—would be the head of hers. That was biblical. However, to assume that she couldn't manage a house and a store because she was female—that wasn't fair.

She could see now that he wasn't going to give her any money. With the weird look in his eyes, she didn't want anything except to leave. “I need to get back home,” she said, moving toward the door.

“
Ya
,” he said, standing. “You do need to
geh
home.” He moved toward her and put his hand on her arm, causing her to flinch. “Rest assured, there is a solution. I'll be in touch.” He opened the door and held it open for her. She didn't have any choice but to leave.

When she walked into the living room, it was empty. From his office doorway, the bishop nodded in the direction of the front door. Sadie let herself out.

Confusion stunned her as she traveled back home. Fortunately her horse knew the way because she was having trouble concentrating. What did he mean by a solution? Why couldn't he have given her the money she asked for? She even offered to pay it back, but it was like he'd never heard her request.

She pulled into the driveway and put up her horse. The barn needed cleaning. The laundry needed to be done. Winter would be here before she knew it, and there was still firewood to be cut, split, and laid. Her stomach lurched as she thought of everything she had to take care of. The bishop had been right about all the responsibility she had to carry. She knew all she had to do was say the word and members of her community would help.

But she had asked for help, from the leader of the community, and he hadn't given her what she asked for.
I'll be in touch.
What did that even mean? Maybe he would change his mind after some time to think about it. He had to know she had nowhere else to turn.

She readied herself for bed, the house eerily quiet. She'd never felt so alone. Even God seemed distant. A couple of women
had offered to stay with her for a few days, but she didn't want to take anyone away from their own families, including Patience.

Sadie pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes, praying for help. God would provide, she kept reminding herself over and over. Yet it was hours before she was able to fall into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, Aden finished up the chores in the barn, making sure their two horses had their breakfast hay. They didn't keep any other animals now, and Aden didn't count his bees as part of the family assets. They were his alone.

He went back into the house, and even though he was hungry, he thought about skipping breakfast. Sometime during the night he'd heard his brother stumble into his room, which was next door to Aden's. Over the past couple of years they had formed a sort of truce—or at least Sol got drunk to release his frustration instead of pounding on Aden. He could almost feel sorry for his brother . . . and then he'd remember all the times Sol had never shown him mercy. And as for himself . . . he could never let himself be angry, much less allow it to show. Keeping up appearances. Showing strength at all times. That was part of being a man.

Secrets and shame were also part of being a
Troyer
man.

He bypassed the kitchen for the stairs. The smoky scent of cooked bacon and freshly toasted bread almost made him change his mind about breakfast. But sitting through the evening meal with his family was torturous enough.

Then he heard his father say Sadie's name. Aden stopped, then he crept nearer to the open doorway. He'd wondered what
had happened between
Daed
and Sadie when she was in his office last night, but he hadn't dared ask. He hadn't seen Sadie leave, so he had no idea if their conversation had gone the way she'd wanted it to. For her sake, he hoped so.

“It's the only practical solution for her,” his father continued.

Aden peeked around the corner and saw his father standing at the end of the table, his coffee cup in hand. A platter of bacon, a dish of eggs, and a stack of toast were on the table, but he wasn't eating. Neither was
Mamm
. She sat on the opposite end, darning a black sock.

“It must be soon. There is
nee
time to tarry.”

Aden's brow lifted. What was his father talking about?

“Emmanuel.”
Mamm
's voice sounded small, but there was a tiny bit of force behind it. She laid the sock on the table and lifted her gaze to his. “Why not give Sadie the money she needs?”

His father shook his head. “Because her situation isn't one that will be solved with a check.”

“And you think it will be solved with a marriage?”

Aden sucked in a breath. Marriage? Surely not to Sol. Even his father wouldn't be that controlling . . . or cruel.
Not to someone who wasn't his son.

“I have always done what is best for the members of this community,”
Daed
continued. “Sacrifices must be made, sometimes, for the betterment of all.”

Sacrifices? How would Sadie marrying Sol be better for
anyone
?

“Do you trust me, Rhoda?” his father asked.

Aden peeked farther into the room to see his
daed
looking at
Mamm
, his profile intent and expectant. Was he asking for approval? Aden doubted it. More likely, he expected her compliance.

She lifted her eyes to him and nodded. “I always trust you will do the right thing, Emmanuel.”

Clenching his teeth, Aden pulled away. His father was
not
doing the right thing, and either his mother was blind to that fact or she was agreeing to avoid conflict. She was completely devoted to him, something Aden found difficult to understand as he got older.

But even though his mother would go along with
Daed
's plan, Aden refused to. He hurried upstairs and barged into Sol's room. The smell of stale alcohol immediately hit him as he saw the lump that was his brother underneath a pile of quilts. He hadn't woken up yet. Aden pushed against Sol's shoulder, not caring if he drew the man's anger.

Sol opened his eyes. They were glassy and red-rimmed. Aden didn't drink, and after seeing his brother hung over like this a few times before, he wouldn't touch the stuff. “What?” Sol snarled.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” Sol sat up, his forehead falling into his hands. He groaned, keeping his head down.

“About
Daed
's plan.”

Sol looked up and glared at him. “You sound
ab im kopp
. Get out of
mei
room before I throw you out.”

Aden held his ground. “Did you know
Daed
wants you to marry Sadie Schrock?”

Sol didn't move. “What?” he finally said after giving Aden a blank stare.

Aden filled his brother in on what he heard downstairs. As he talked, Sol scrambled out of the bed, now at attention. “He's crafty,” Sol mumbled. “I'll give him that.”

Now it was Aden's turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”

Sol shrugged. “I suppose there are worse women I could be stuck with.”

He's still drunk.
That was the only explanation for his casual acceptance of his father's life-altering plans and backhanded compliment to Sadie. Sol would be lucky to have her. Any man would.

Aden ground his back teeth. His father, and now his brother, were both deciding her future. Did they even have the right to do this?

Then again, who dared defy Bishop Troyer?