The Choice (7 page)

“Mattie said that all of creation is meant to remind us that God is nearby. She said that God is closer than our own breath.” She turned slightly to face Daniel. “Do you think she’s right?”

She saw a flash of something in his eyes, the echoes of a longing, a sadness. “I’m not the one to ask.” He went to the door and held it open. “Don’t stay up too late. Morning comes early.”

Sometimes, she thought, turning back to gaze at the night sky, trying to talk to Daniel felt like trying to pump a dry well.

One afternoon, Carrie went to town to run some errands. When she returned to the farm late in the day, Daniel came out of the barn to help her down from the buggy.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I’ll get dinner started right off,” she told him as he unhitched Old-Timer from the tracings.

Carrie hurried to the kitchen and saw Yonnie at the stovetop, stirring a sauce. Glancing at the table, she noticed it was already set for dinner. “Oh, bless you, Yonnie!” She hung her bonnet up on the peg and untied her cape when she remembered that she had left a few packages in the back of the buggy and rushed down to the barn to get them.

As she reached the partly open barn door, she saw Andy drag a sack of oats over to Daniel, talking as he pulled.

“He used to be Amish but now he plays baseball,” she heard him say.

Daniel stopped in mid-turn. “The baseball player? The one everyone talks about?”

“Yeah. He’s the one.” Andy held up an English newspaper, pointing to the headline about the Lancaster Barnstormers, about Sol’s pitching.

Carrie had found the newspaper abandoned on a bench near the hitching post in town where she tied Old-Timer’s reins. She had picked it up. When she was nearing home, she had turned down a quiet lane and pulled the buggy over to the side to read the article about Sol. She read it and reread it, then realized how late it was. That foolish action had made her late getting home, late starting dinner. She clapped her hands to her cheeks. How could she have been so careless to have left the newspaper in the buggy?

Andy held the sack of oats open so Daniel could scoop them into Old-Timer’s bucket. “Solomon Riehl was courting Carrie, but then he disappeared, right when my dad passed. So she married you.”

Carrie slid open the barn door and walked in. “Andy!” she said sharply.

Startled, Andy nearly knocked over the sack of oats.

“Geh zu Yonnie im Haus.”
Go to Yonnie in the house.

Andy looked at Carrie in mute astonishment, surprised by the sharp tone in her voice, but he hustled past her to go to the kitchen without a questioning word or glance.

Daniel turned back to filling the bucket with oats as if nothing had happened. Carrie picked up the newspaper and folded it. She wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe she didn’t need to say anything at all. She turned to leave and stopped when she heard Daniel ask, “So Solomon Riehl was the midnight caller?”

Carrie spun toward Daniel, who still had his back to her. “Yes.”

Daniel put the bucket down and turned to face Carrie. “It was like Andy said?”

Carrie looked down at her hands nervously, avoiding Daniel’s steady gaze. “Yes,” she answered quietly.

Daniel didn’t say a word, he just stood there, waiting for her to continue.

“Sol wanted to play for the Barnstormers and wanted me with him. We had made plans to leave. We were going to be married that very week when my father died. But . . . then everything changed. I couldn’t leave Andy.” She looked down at the hay-strewn floor. “Sol left anyway. The night that Andy was in the emergency room, after Esther had taken the switch to him, I knew I had to get Andy out of Esther’s home. When you asked me to marry you, it seemed like . . . an opportunity.” She lifted her eyes to gauge his response, but his face was expressionless. “I told you that I wasn’t in love with you. I’ve never tried to deceive you.”

He glanced out the barn window. “But you didn’t mention you loved someone else.”

The silence between them felt as real as a brick wall. Finally, she asked softly, “Daniel, why did you marry me?”

He didn’t move for a moment, didn’t say anything. She couldn’t read him well enough to know what he was thinking. Finally, he took a few steps toward her and gently lifted her chin so that she would look at him. They were inches apart, close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“Same as you, Carrie. Trying to forget.”

Daniel strode past her, out of the barn and into the orchards, not returning home until long after dark.

4

The pitching coach slapped Sol on the back as he jogged in from the mound after practice on Monday. “We clocked you at over 95 miles per hour! Fastest ever!” He was nearly bursting with pride. “Not sure what you had for breakfast, but keep it up, Sol.”

Sol nodded, before heading into the locker room for a shower. The other guys on the team congratulated him as he peeled off his uniform. “You must be as pumped up as a hot air balloon after that practice,” said Rody, the catcher.

Sol shrugged. “Just a good day, I guess.” But he knew why. Every time he wound up for a pitch, the image of Carrie in another man’s arms popped into his head. He pictured the catcher’s mitt as the man’s face—he could barely remember what Daniel Miller looked like—and he threw that ball as hard as he possibly could.

“Some of the guys are going out for a cold beer.” Seeing his hesitation, Rody threw a wet towel at him. “Come on. I’ll treat.”

Sol slammed his locker shut. “Okay. Give me ten minutes to shower.”

Veronica McCall dropped by on a weekly basis to ask Carrie if she was ready to sell the property. Each time, Carrie said no. Today, Emma was visiting to help Carrie can applesauce. Veronica smelled the freshly brewed coffee and helped herself to a cup.

As she poured the coffee into the mug, she glanced out the kitchen window. “Do all Amish men look like him?”

“Who?” Carrie asked, cutting the apples and tossing them into a big pot.

“Him. He’s a hottie.” She pointed out the window. “He could be on the cover of
GQ
.” She turned to Emma to explain. “
Gentleman’s
Quarterly.
It’s a magazine that has a gorgeous hunk on its cover every month.”

Carrie put her knife down, wiped her hands on her apron, and looked out the window to see who Veronica meant. “Why, that’s Daniel!”

“Who’s he?” Veronica asked.

“Carrie’s
husband
,” Emma said, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s my grandson,” Yonnie added, in a voice of quiet pride. Seated at the kitchen table, Yonnie had been peeling apples for a pie. She had a trick of peeling the entire apple skin in one long ribbon—a talent that impressed Andy.

Veronica shrugged. “Your husband is a babe, Carrie. He could be a male model.” They watched Daniel lift a bale of hay from the wagon and toss it onto a wheelbarrow. “He’s got muscles in his arms that look like ropes.”

Carrie looked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. Emma pointed her paring knife in Veronica’s direction. “Lusting after another woman’s husband is a sin.”

Veronica turned to Emma with catlike eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with admiring nature’s handiwork.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Gotta go.” She picked an apple slice out of Emma’s bowl of cut apples and sailed out the door.

“Carrie, we need to keep an eye on
that
woman,” Emma said, scowling, turning her attention back to her apples. “The English aren’t like the Amish.”

“And the Amish aren’t like the English, Emma,” Yonnie said. “My Daniel does not have a roving eye.”

Carrie stood by the kitchen window, watching Veronica as she walked over to Daniel. She wondered what Veronica said to make him laugh. Before turning from the window, she did happen to notice that Veronica was right. His arms did look like thick pieces of rope.

Mattie had asked Carrie to help her sew a new dress. After purchasing the fabric in town, they returned to Carrie’s house to use one of her patterns. While Carrie hunted for the patterns upstairs, Mattie started some coffee in the kitchen. She inhaled the aroma from the coffee grounds as she scooped the coffee out of the can and into the filter. As she filled the coffee brewer with water, her thoughts drifted to Carrie. She felt troubled about her friend, sensing a wound deep in Carrie’s soul, a wound that wasn’t healing.

Mattie knew that losing her father was a profound loss to Carrie. What she couldn’t figure out was why Carrie married Daniel so soon after Jacob died. And why she never seemed bothered by Sol’s leaving. Maybe, Mattie thought, it was because Daniel was the one Jacob had chosen for Carrie. As Mattie waited for the coffee to finish brewing, she looked outside the kitchen window and saw Eli and Daniel unhitching Old-Timer from the buggy the women had used to go into town.

Daniel treated Carrie tenderly, Mattie had often noticed. He lifted her out of the buggy as if she were made of fine china. He waited to sit at the kitchen table until Carrie sat first. He really was a fine-looking man, she thought, watching him lead the horse into the barn. Tall and broad shouldered, fair haired with sky-blue eyes rimmed by dark eyebrows. He had a cleft in his chin, still visible. His blond beard, circling his jawline, was just growing in. Mattie would have assumed he would be a younger version of his father Eli, slim and wiry and worried. Daniel was nearly as handsome as Sol.

As Mattie opened up the cupboard to find the coffee mugs, Daniel came into the kitchen. “Wu is sie?” he asked gruffly.
Where
is she?

“Carrie’s upstairs.” Just as Mattie was about to ask him if he wanted coffee, Carrie came downstairs with the box of patterns in her arms.

“Was is letz?” Carrie asked, seeing the look on Daniel’s face.
What’s wrong?

He slapped an English newspaper on the kitchen table, open to the sports section with a large headline: “Amish Sol Pitches a No-Hitter.” He kept his eyes fixed on Carrie, brows furrowed. Carrie kept her eyes on the newspaper.

The silence in the kitchen took on a prickly tension. “It’s mine,” Mattie blurted out at last. “I bought it in town.”

Both Daniel and Carrie snapped their heads toward her, eyes wide in surprise.

“I saw the headline and wanted to read about Sol,” Mattie said. As Daniel and Carrie continued to stare at her, she felt her mouth go dry. “I love Sol. I always will, no matter what he’s done. He’s coming back one day. I’m sure of it.” Mattie’s eyes started to fill with tears. She stole a glance at Carrie and saw hurt flood into her eyes.

Suddenly, Mattie understood.

Without another word, Mattie put the coffee mugs on the counter and quietly left to go home. She was almost to the street when she heard Daniel call her name as he ran up to her.

“Here,” he said, handing her the newspaper.