A Wedding for Julia (26 page)

When the barn door opened and she walked inside, he wondered if maybe his thoughts had pulled her from the house and straight across the yard to his side.

“Done baking?”

“
Ya
.”

“Everything ready for tomorrow?”

“I think so.”

She wore a knitted shawl over her dress—something done up in a soft blue. He could just make out the color and pattern in the light of the gas lantern. Julia walked to Missy and rubbed the bay between her ears.

“The opening will be fine,” he assured her. “Aaron and Lydia told me today that all of their cabins are leased the rest of the week. They promised to point hungry guests this way.”

Julia nodded, pulled a strip of apple peeling from her pocket, and handed it to Missy. Caleb waited and watched as she stepped over to Red and did the same.

“You’re spoiling my horse.”

“
Ya?
”

“You are.”

“We’ve talked about this before, and you admitted to feeding him treats yourself long before we were married.”

Caleb thought of how to answer that without agreeing she was right.

“I think they like each other.” Julia moved to the opposite wall and stood across from the horses, watching with her head cocked.

Though they were in separate stalls, they managed to
talk
to each other, or so it seemed to Caleb.

“Maybe they do.”

“Maybe Missy was lonely before you and Red came to live here.”

Julia turned and smiled at him, and something in Caleb’s heart flipped, like a fish in a stream. “Do you have any of those apple peels for me?”

“
Nein
, but I saved you some warm apple nut bars.”

“You did?”

“I’d give you a slice of apple pie, but I don’t think I should cut it.”

“The bars will be fine.” He linked his fingers with hers and they walked out of the barn. He turned out the gas lantern when they stepped outside. The stars and moon provided enough light for them to see their way across the yard and up the porch steps.

Caleb held the door for her as they entered the mudroom.

While he stored the lantern, Julia moved into the kitchen, which smelled like heaven—or like heaven should in Caleb’s opinion.

“Sharon and Ada in bed?”

“Probably not, but they’re upstairs already.” She poured two glasses of milk, and he carried the plate of apple bars over to their table.

“How did I manage to land such a
wunderbaar
woman, Julia Zook?” He bit into his dessert and had to close his eyes as apple, sugar, and nutmeg melted on his tongue. His life had definitely improved since his days of living in a barn.

“Land a wife? You sound as if you’ve caught a fish.”

“
Nein
. I said it wrong, but the question was a serious one. How is it no man asked you to marry him before? You’re even tempered, beautiful, and a first-rate cook.”

Julia blushed, but she didn’t respond right away.

He took another bite and waited.

Glancing at him, she pulled in her bottom lip. He had noticed it was something she did when she was concentrating on a thing. Finally she said, “I’m trying to decide if I should answer your question. Do you seriously want to know?”

“I suppose I do, if you want to share about that time. If you don’t, I can finish off these bars and thank
Gotte
for my blessings even if I don’t understand them.”

She drank from her glass of milk, and glanced up at him as she set it carefully back on the table. “I was pledged to be married—once.”

“He must have been a fool to lose you.”

“His name was Thomas.” She fiddled with her napkin as she spoke, but he could tell by her voice that no real emotion lingered in the remembering. It was more as if she were reciting a story about someone else. “I was young—nineteen. The week before we were to wed, I learned his family was planning on moving to Kentucky.”

“He hadn’t told you?”

“He had assumed I would go, and maybe I would have. But…”

“But he didn’t ask.”

She looked directly at him then. “He just took my answer for granted.”

Taking another drink of her milk, she stared out the window. “I tried to explain to him my feelings about my parents and our situation. I was an only child and they needed me. Thomas, he became angry and began quoting Scripture about a how a woman’s place is with her husband—”

“Scripture isn’t to be used for winning fights.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You know I am.”

Julia picked up her napkin and folded it into a triangle. “My parents
did
need me. I was all they had. Both my
mamm
and
dat
were older when I was born—
mamm
was forty-one, which isn’t young to bear a last child but is unusual for a first. By the time I was to be wed, she was sixty, and already there were signs that their health, especially my father’s, was deteriorating.”

“And her arthritis—”

“
Ya
. She could hardly cook or clean, though she tried.” Julia met his gaze. “I broke off the wedding plans.”

They sat there in the kitchen, Julia’s revelation interrupted only by the small sounds of Sharon and Ada moving around in the room above them.

Finally Caleb sat back and said, “He was foolish.”

Julia shrugged. “My
mamm
said it was
Gotte
’s
wille
.”

“Did she quote a Psalm?”

“The forty-sixth. God is our refuge—”

“And strength.” They finished it together, smiling.

“It’s a favorite of hers, I gather.”

“You gather correctly.”

Picking up the empty glasses, he rinsed them and placed them in the drainer while Julia wrapped up the remaining two apple bars and placed them in a container for his lunch the next day.

“And there was no one else?” He placed his hand at her back as they started up the stairs.

“Perhaps a look or word occasionally, but none who were serious about future plans. As I grew older and
mamm
’s and
dat
’s health grew worse, men became less interested.”

When they reached their bedroom door, he turned her toward him, tipped up her face, and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’m a fortunate man, Julia.”

He wasn’t sure she believed him, but she would. He vowed then and there that one day she would.

She slipped into their bedroom. Perhaps she needed a few minutes alone, though she hadn’t seemed disturbed by the retelling. He walked down to join Ada and Sharon in the sitting room and picked up the
Budget
, the same issue he’d read the night before. It was a large paper, and there were parts he would like to scan again.

He had trouble focusing, though.

His mind kept returning to Julia’s story. Occasionally he’d glance over the top of the paper to Ada, who was working her way through the Psalms with an occasional stop in Proverbs, and Sharon, who was again pretending to read one of the few novels Julia kept in the house.

Several minutes later Julia joined them, and they passed a pleasant hour—the four people who made up Caleb’s odd little family. He impatiently watched the clock hands move. He could hardly wait until it was a proper time for them to be alone. There were things he wanted to say to her.

Finally Ada rose and toddled off to bed.

When Julia stood and began tidying the room, an expression of panic crossed his cousin’s face.

“I think I’ll read a little longer,” she said.

“All right.” Julia paused at the door before walking across the room and enfolding the girl in a hug. “Remember we rise extra early tomorrow.”

Sharon nodded and went back to staring at the book.

As he and Julia were walking down the hall to their room, Caleb heard Ada go back into the sitting room and talk softly with Sharon.

When Julia came to bed, he honestly meant to speak with her, to tell her all that was on his heart. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked about her first love, if it was love, but on the other hand he was glad he knew. He wanted to be able to heal the hurt places from her past, and how could he do that if he didn’t know where they were?

He had every intention of putting those things into words, but he found it was easier to show her than it was to tell her.

Caleb discovered that in the darkness and without saying a word he could express his feelings more tenderly, more honestly, and more completely than he would ever have imagined possible.

Later, when he thought she was asleep, Julia turned onto her back and asked, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“
Ya
. You’re even older than I am. There must have been someone else.”

His laughter slid across the room as easily as leaves falling from the trees outside their window.

“That’s not an answer,” she teased.

“That’s not a normal question when we’re in bed.”

“You didn’t give me time to finish our conversation earlier.” She snuggled up to him, her back against his chest. “What was her name?”

“Lois.” He wasn’t surprised that the name brought no real emotion with it. Too many years had passed. It was like pining over an old injury. At some point, you forgot which scars had come from which mishap. One day you woke and it didn’t matter anymore. You were simply glad you had healed.

“How old were you?”

“How old was I?”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re stalling by repeating my questions.”

“
Ya
. It’s harder to realize how young I was then—and how old I am now—than it is to think about a young pup who fancied himself
in lieb
with a girl.”

“So you weren’t?
In lieb
?”

“Who is to say? I thought I was.”

The sounds of a night bird in the tree outside their window interrupted the silence that had fallen around them. Caleb realized he could be satisfied here, with Julia. He could be content for the rest of his life.

“What happened?”

“Lois was young, probably too young, a mere eighteen.” He ran his fingers through Julia’s hair. It was thick and soft and felt like silk…or what he imagined silk would feel like. “We were planning to marry but hadn’t made our announcement yet.”

“You never did?”

He shook his head in the darkness. “She left.”

“Left?” Julia flipped over on her back. “Moved away? Like…like Thomas?”

“
Nein
. Not like Thomas.”

Because it seemed she wanted to know, he told her all of it. How he had counted himself so lucky to have attracted the younger girl when he was twenty-five. Now he thought his feelings for her must have been infatuation, like when one of the Amish boys saw a new horse or a new buggy and thought they had to have it. He had been that way with Lois. Only people aren’t things and couldn’t be had in that way.

“Where did she go?”

“She would run off sometimes with her girlfriends. They would ride in cars and such. I told myself it was because she was young and she would outgrow it before we wed. Then one night she came to see me and told me they were going to Indianapolis and wouldn’t be back.”

“To live in the city?”

“
Ya
. I didn’t believe her. Six months later, I was still waiting, still sure she would show up and we’d pick up where we’d left off. Her friends did come back, but Lois stayed. Later I heard that she’d moved to Ohio and joined a Mennonite group there.”

“She broke your heart?”

“No, Julia. She hurt my pride, and pride is a sin,
ya
?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I thought she would want me more than she wanted a different life. When she didn’t, it left me confused about myself, but it didn’t break my heart. I’m not sure how much of my heart was ever involved.”

Julia thought about that a while. Finally she snuggled closer and asked, “So what did you do next?”

“I told myself I liked being alone—that being alone was better. That the fishing, hunting, and outdoor things my married
freinden
no longer had time to do, I was able to do all the time, or at least as much as I wanted. I convinced myself there would always be a chance to find another woman to share my life with.”

Her breathing evened out, and he thought she was asleep when she reached up and touched his face. “You found me.”

Julia’s words were as gentle as the touch of her hand, as soft as her hair, as tender as her heart. They were a whisper of love.

Caleb fell asleep, thanking God for what had been and what was to come. He stepped into dreams where he and Julia walked through fields thick with tall stalks of corn, and in the distance he could make out the sunshine glinting off the waters of Pebble Creek.

Chapter 22