Runaway Amish Bride. Leigh Bale

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СКАЧАТЬ Confusion fogged his brain. Too much grief had struck his familye lately. First, his beloved wife, Susan, had died in childbirth. Then Daed had died of a heart attack a few weeks ago. But why had Daed written to Abby and said that Jakob had agreed to marry her? It didn’t make sense.

      Between the farm and his furniture-making business, Jakob already had more responsibilities than he could handle effectively without a wife. Though he tried, he had little time to comfort his grieving children. Mamm and his elderly grandfather had filled in the gaps. They’d been a great deal of help, but they were also still in mourning. He was responsible for each of them. To cope with his loss, he had buried himself in his work. It was easier to pretend that Susan was still alive, waiting for him at home at the end of each day. That his father was available anytime he needed advice or help with his labors. That they were a whole and happy familye again.

      But they weren’t.

      He definitely could use assistance on the farm, but not a wife. Never that. He would not allow Bishop Yoder or Mamm to pressure him into marrying again. It hurt too much. But what should he do about Abigail Miller?

      He reminded himself that he wasn’t the only one who had been duped by his daed. After reading his father’s letters to Abby, he realized she hadn’t known that he was a widower with two young children to raise. Right now, they were with Dawdi Zeke, their great-grandfather, and not here to witness this difficult conversation. Reuben was still so angry that his mudder and grandfather had died. He and Ruby couldn’t understand what had happened to their world.

      Neither could Jakob. It seemed that Gott had abandoned them, and he didn’t know why.

      “I suppose we could make room for you here in the house, at least until you decide what you’d like to do. I can stay with Dawdi Zeke, so that there is no appearance of impropriety,” he said.

      There. That was good. His offer provided an immediate solution to Abby’s needs without making any long-term commitments. And by staying with Dawdi, it would remove Jakob from the house so that no one could accuse him of indecency with a woman who wasn’t his wife. Of course, he’d still be taking his meals here in the house, but with Naomi and Dawdi’s presence, no member of his congregation could accuse him of being inappropriate.

      “Dawdi Zeke?” Abby asked.

      “My grandfather.”

      She nodded. “Danke. I am grateful to accept your offer.”

      She released a quiet sigh and looked away, her startling blue eyes filled with relief. He couldn’t blame her. He remembered her familye well and could guess her reason for not wanting to return to them. Mamm had told him that her father had died a few years earlier, which left her to the questionable mercy of Simon. Jakob had no doubt the boy had grown up to be a cruel man just like his father, and he hated the thought of sending Abby back to him.

      A clatter sounded outside the open window. Jakob stepped over to peer out and saw Reuben racing across the lawn toward the barn. A bucket was overturned in the flower bed, as though it had been used as a step stool. The boy’s footprints were embedded in the damp soil, and he had tromped on Naomi’s petunias.

      Hmm. No doubt the little scamp had been listening in on their conversation. Jakob had no idea how much the boy had overheard, but he would have to deal with that later.

      “Wundervoll. I am so glad we have come to an agreement. Abby will remain here, then.” Bishop Yoder slapped his hands against his thighs and stood to signal his departure. Sarah rose also, smiling wide.

      Naomi hopped up and escorted them out onto the front porch. “I appreciate your being here today.”

      “Any time. Let me know how things go...” The bishop’s voice faded as the screen door clapped closed behind him.

      Jakob turned and faced Abby. She’d been a young girl when he saw her last. Young, quiet and afraid. Now, she was an attractive, fully grown woman with magnetic blue eyes; smooth, pale skin; and golden-blond hair. Her light blue dress and matching cape looked perfectly starched, though her skirts were slightly wrinkled from her travels. She still looked quiet, still afraid. The complete opposite of his outspoken wife. Susan had been olive-skinned with dark hair, freckles, hazel eyes and an overly long nose. She wasn’t what most people would call beautiful, but she’d been kind and energetic, and Jakob had loved her dearly.

      Correction. He still loved her. He always would. And he had no room in his heart to love another woman. Not ever again.

      Now, Abby sat with her battered suitcase resting beside her on the hardwood floor. Her shoulders sagged with weariness. Still wearing her black travel bonnet, she appeared tuckered out and in need of some time by herself. She reached up and slid an errant strand of flaxen hair back into her kapp, looking lost and all alone in the world.

      A twinge of compassion pinched his heart.

      “Koom. I will show you to your room.” Without waiting for her, Jakob scooped up her bag and headed toward the back stairs. She followed. He could hear the delicate tapping of her sensible black shoes behind him.

      Upstairs, he pushed the door wide to offer Abby admittance. She stepped inside and looked around the tidy room. It included a simple double bed, a nightstand on each side with tall gas lamps, a chest of drawers, a wooden chair and an armoire. The oak furnishings were beautiful but plain. Jakob had crafted the wood himself as a wedding gift for his new bride. They complemented the lovely blue Dresden Plate quilt that covered the bed. The design included small gold hearts at the corner of each quilt block. A matching braided rag rug covered the bare wood floor. Susan had made the quilt, rug and plain curtains hanging across the window. She’d claimed that the hearts on the quilt were a whimsical reminder of their love. And though pride was not something Jakob should allow himself, he couldn’t help feeling just a bit of Hochmut for her skill in making them.

      Abby turned, her gaze riveted to the far corner of the room where a rocking cradle sat awaiting a little occupant. She made a small sound of sympathy in the back of her throat, her eyes filled with sadness. He’d made the cradle for his new child. As he looked at the empty mattress, a wave of lonely helplessness crashed over him. All his hopes and dreams seemed to have died with Susan and their unborn child. He should have removed it by now but hadn’t been able to let go of the past. Packing the cradle off to the barn would seem like burying his wife and child all over again. So he’d left it here, a constant reminder of all he’d lost.

      He looked away, trying to squelch the pain. Setting Abby’s suitcase on the floor with a dull thud, he walked to the armoire and reached inside. It took only a moment to gather up his clothes. He didn’t have much, just what he needed.

      Abby watched him quietly, her delicate forehead crinkled in a frown. Her gaze lifted to a hook on the wall where his black felt hat rested. He scooped it up, feeling out of place in his own home. Having this woman see the room he had shared with his wife seemed much too personal.

      Abby looked at him, her eyes creased with compassion, and he felt as though she could see deep inside his tattered heart.

      “This is your room,” she said.

      It was a statement, not a question.

      “Ja, but it is yours to use now. I will join Dawdi in the dawdy haus. He turned ninety-three last month and is quite frail, but he still lives alone now that his wife is gone.”

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