Promised to Another (30 page)

Joshua stood by the table. He raked his fingers through his hair. “Uh, nein. Your reasoning sounds right.”

What reasoning?

“You know, I asked for references on the buwe who signed up for the swap,” the bishop said gently. “I know a lot of things—probably more than you think.”

It fell quiet. The silence lasted one second, two, three.

“I know things about you, Joshua.” The bishop’s voice was intimidating.

What?

The silence stretched on again. Wasn’t Joshua going to respond? What could the bishop possibly know that Joshua didn’t want him to?

“Jah, I’m sure you do.” Joshua sounded troubled.

Annie was beginning to feel guilty about eavesdropping. Whatever secrets Joshua was keeping couldn’t be that bad. But then, they could be. They didn’t know each other well enough to share their innermost thoughts. That kind of intimacy took time, and they’d been married for only a day.

“Do you want me to say it, or will you?”

She heard Joshua exhale. “Fine. I have nein intention to settle here.”

She caught her breath. Did he have to sound so firm? Couldn’t there be a measure of doubt in there? A willingness to compromise?

“What?” Daed sounded strangled.

Kind of the way she felt.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, while her heart landed somewhere around her toes.

“I planned to stay only until it was time to harvest the maple syrup back home.”

“I thought you said you wanted to marry Annie,” Daed choked out. “All this time, your plan was to marry her and take her away?”

Annie shoved her fist to her mouth, hoping no one had heard her pain-filled whimper. Then, she turned and fled back upstairs, to the safety of the bedroom. She wanted to go to her old room, but she didn’t have that option anymore. It had been cleaned and prepared for Joshua’s parents. She ran into the room she shared with him, closed the door, and shoved a solid wooden chair against the knob, since it didn’t have a lock. She wasn’t sure that would work, but it was her only hope of keeping Joshua out.

She’d told him she loved him. She’d given herself to him.

And he’d said he loved her.

Had it all been a lie?

And Joshua had thought he’d get off without the truth coming out. At least Annie hadn’t heard. It was bad enough that the bishop had known and had pretty much forced him to confess to Isaac.

“
Be sure your sin will find you out.
” Numbers 32:23. He should have known better. Should have been truthful from the start.

His throat seemed to close, cutting off his air supply. He avoided Isaac, whose betrayed expression pained him, and focused instead on Bishop Sol. “Why did you approve me for the swap, then?”

“Because.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I prayed over it, and I felt the Lord impressing on me that you needed to kum. I guess I selfishly hoped you’d decide to stay.”

“Annie won’t take this well.” Isaac rubbed his eyes. “She’s my baby. The last one. The one I delivered.”

Joshua nodded. Their unusual bond was undeniable. “I’m sorry.” He really was. “I never meant to hurt you. And I did want to marry her. ”

Isaac looked away. “Jah. I forgive you. You’re like a son. And I always knew someone would kum and take my baby away. I just didn’t expect it’d be so far.”

“Danki for forgiving me.” Relief flooded through Joshua. The last thing he’d wanted was to ruin his friendship with his father-in-law.

Isaac nodded.

Joshua didn’t look forward to telling Annie. He didn’t want to injure their fledgling relationship. Yet he didn’t want her finding out from anyone but him.

And until everyone came to terms with this unpleasant reality, there would be a wedge between Joshua and Bishop Sol, Isaac, and Annie. Not to mention the rest of her family, when they found out. And her friends. And the community.

He raked his fingers through his hair. Why hadn’t he weighed the inevitable consequences of his deception long ago?

It was because he’d arrived in Missouri a single man with no attachments, and he’d expected to leave Missouri that way.

Then, he saw Annie. And the more he saw her, the more he liked her. Wanted her. Loved her.

He sighed. Maybe, if he could warn his parents, they’d keep quiet, and she could go back to Pennsylvania under the impression that they’d return to Seymour before long. Would that be a lie, too? The sin of omission?

Joshua knew the answer. He also knew that taking Annie to Pennsylvania under false pretenses would only cause additional problems later.

He sighed. “I need to find Annie.”

It was past time he started telling the truth.

***

Annie lay curled on the bed, hugging a pillow. Joshua was a player. She’d known it all along. But she’d foolishly decided to believe she was different. And she’d married him.

The Amish marry for good. She wouldn’t have the option of divorce.

She gulped. Joshua could go back to Pennsylvania, if he wanted to. But she would never leave.

So, the bishop wanted to protect her from Luke. She’d still have Daed. She’d have the name of a man.
Joshua’s Annie.
Her heart skipped a beat. It’d been so nice to be his Annie. She tried to squelch her traitorous emotions.

She’d have the shame of being unable to keep said man.

But no one would know the whole story, as long as no boppli resulted from their too-brief union….

She heard a floorboard creak outside her door, and she tensed, praying the chair she’d propped against the door would do its job.

Someone tapped. “Annie?” It was Joshua. She held her breath. “We need to talk.”

Maybe, if she didn’t answer, he’d go away.

“I know you’re in there. May I kum in, please?”

How did he know she was there? She could be anywhere. She could have crawled out the window, climbed down, and gone to the barn to hide. She glanced at the window again. Still pouring down rain. Okay, that scenario was unlikely.

But she could still make a run for it. After all, the rain fit her mood.

“I’m coming in.”

The doorknob rattled. She sat up and eyed her makeshift barricade of a chair, praying it would work.

It didn’t. Joshua opened the door with ease, while the chair merely slid across the wood floor. He peeked at the piece of furniture, then looked up at her. “A chair? Ach, Annie.”

Why did he have to sound so genuinely caring? He was good.

She wiped at her eyes.

“We need to talk.”

***

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Annie straightened and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Afraid she might try to make a run for it, he shut the door, slid the chair in front of it, and sat down. She’d have to go through him to get out. “There are. I have things I need to tell you.”

Her chest rose and fell with her sigh. “I’m not going to Pennsylvania.” She speared him with a glare. “And you are a player. You lied about loving me. You lied about wanting to settle in Missouri.”

He cringed. She’d overheard. She must have come downstairs in the midst of their conversation and overheard the wrong part. And the anger, distrust, fear, and pain he heard in her voice about killed him.

She looked at the pillow she’d been holding, then flung it at him, hard. He caught it easily and kept it in his lap, his fingers curling around the edges. “Annie, it isn’t what you think.”

“It most certainly is! Don’t you feel wunderbaar to know you won?”

He winced at her heavy sarcasm.
Won?
He’d won nothing. If anything, he’d lost—lost her love, her trust, and maybe their marriage. His friendship with Isaac had been wounded. The list could go on. Indefinitely. “Annie, please. Let me explain.”

“You are never touching me again. Ever. And when your parents kum, I’ll sleep with Cathy, because there is nein way I’m sharing a room with you.”

He reacted as if he’d been slapped. Time to rein in this conversation.

He rose to his feet but still hovered near the door, to discourage Annie from bolting. His hands, still gripping the pillow, had begun to shake. Must be from nerves. He loosened his grasp a bit, but the quivering persisted.

He had to fix this. Right now. He couldn’t allow things between them to remain so unsettled.

He closed his eyes briefly.
Lord, give me wisdom. Help me to know what to say.
When he opened his eyes again, he aimed a steady gaze at Annie. “First of all, we’re married, and you will sleep with me. Nein other option there.”

She fixed him with a rebellious glare, one that clearly conveyed the message “In your dreams.” And her hands wrung the front of her apron as if she wished it were his neck.

He had to formulate his thoughts or their marriage would end up being only in his dreams. “Second, jah, I lied. And I’m sorry. But I lied only about intending to stay in Missouri. Not about loving you. Not about wanting to marry you. Nothing will change that. Ever.”

Her face expressed a mixture of confusion and hope. At least, he thought it did. So, he plowed on. “Third, I’m not a player. You should know that by now. If I was, I wouldn’t have married you. Absolutely no one could have made me. I would have been objecting loudly. Did you hear me refuse? Nein, Annie. I married you willingly. And there’s no one else I would rather have married.”

She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand to stall whatever she was about to say. “And, four, you are going to Pennsylvania with me.” When her rebellious glare returned, he tried to soften his voice. “But whether we stay there or not is negotiable.”

Okay, not really. But perhaps they could work something out. Whether he could handle two farms, one in Pennsylvania and one in Missouri, was questionable. He was very doubtful anyone could do it.

Better not to lead her on, get her hopes up. “Somewhat negotiable,” he muttered.

“Somewhat?” She sounded broken. Skeptical.

At least she’d accepted the rest of his conditions without question. That was assuming he’d correctly interpreted her silence as consent.

He dared to take a step toward her, still holding the pillow. “I’m the only child. The only son. Daed is leaving the farm to me, and I want it. But my two best friends live here now, near your friends and family. There are going to be times when we’re free to leave Pennsylvania. We can kum to Missouri then, for a month or two, to see your family and our friends. I know family is important, Annie. And you can write.”

She stared up at him, tears glistening in her eyes.

He tossed the pillow onto the bed beside her.

She snatched it up and hugged it to her chest. “So, really not negotiable at all.”

His mouth quirked. “Nein. I guess not.” He crossed the room and fell to his knees in front of her, bowing his head. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Annie. More sorry than you’ll ever know.” Tears sprang to his eyes and quickly overflowed. He buried his head in her lap and cried, feeling the coarseness of the brown material against his skin.

Lord, I truly am sorry
, he prayed silently.
Please forgive me. Help me to resist any temptation to lie from now on. And forgive me for my sins—all my sins. I’m so very sorry.

Peace flooded through him.

Danki, Lord. Danki.

He pulled in a shuddering breath. “Ich liebe dich, Annie. I really do.”

He felt the pillow brush against his head as Annie laid it aside. Then, her fingers filtered through his hair, tousling. Feathering. He was afraid to move. He managed only to inhale and exhale, feeling the dampness of his tears on her dress.
Lord, help me not to hurt her again. Let me know how to win my frau’s love. Her trust. Her forgiveness.