A Reluctant Bride (37 page)

“Aden?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, noting she'd become serious.

“Be careful,” she said.

And he could tell she meant it.

Sadie watched as the door shut behind Aden. She didn't like the idea of him going to his parents' house. She liked it even less that Sol was in Abigail's room. Yet she had promised herself she would trust Aden, and so far he hadn't done anything to break that trust.

She considered Sol for a moment. He wasn't Aden, and she didn't trust him at all. Her only comfort was in knowing that he wouldn't risk anyone finding out he'd returned to Birch Creek. Not yet, anyway. She hoped he wouldn't be around long enough to cause any more trouble or put Aden at risk with his father.

Shoving all that out of her mind, she looked for a screwdriver, finding one in the pencil tray in the center drawer of her father's desk. The tray held everything but pencils—two more screwdrivers, several thumbtacks, two sticks of gum, a box of matches, and, inexplicably, an orange crayon. She picked up the flathead screwdriver and started to remove the screws holding the desk together. Then she realized they weren't screws, but bolts. With a sigh she put the screwdriver on the desk and yanked on the top drawer, then shook it a little bit, trying to pry it loose from the sliding track.

Half an hour later she had finally removed all the drawers, but found nothing except a few stray pieces of paper. She leaned back against the chair and blew out a breath. All that work for nothing.

“Sadie?” She heard Patience's muffled voice through the door.

“
Ya?
” She wondered why her friend didn't walk into the office, like she had all week. “Bishop Troyer is here,” Patience said.

Sadie felt the blood drain from her face.

“He wants to talk to you. Now.”

She stood, clutching her hands together. “All right. Let him in.”

The door opened and the bishop walked into the office, wearing his usual unruffled, serene expression. “Hello, Sadie.” He took in the desk drawers on the floor. “Looking for something?”

“Not really.” Now she was back to lying again, and it was almost as unsettling as the intense look the bishop was aiming at her. “Just cleaning up
mei daed
's desk. He was a bit of a pack rat.”

“I see. Mind if I sit?”

Why can't you leave us alone?
Sadie shook her head. “Not at all.”

He sat down, then folded his hands over his abdomen, which was quite lean for a man his age. “Do you know why I'm here?”

“To see how Aden and I are faring?” That would be the last thing he'd be interested in, but she knew she should act ignorant of his real purpose.

He studied her for a moment. “Did Aden bring up the subject of your father's paperwork with you recently?”

“
Mei daed
had a lot of paperwork. Which papers are you referring to?”

He smiled, but Sadie saw it more as a smug smirk. “Ah, so he didn't tell you, per my request. At least he did one thing right,” the bishop said, almost under his breath, but loud enough for Sadie to hear.

She bristled. “I would appreciate it if you didn't insult
mei
husband.”

The bishop arched his brows. “A little protective now, I see. Interesting.” He touched his chin.

Sadie fought to stem the anger growing within her.

“I'll get to the point.” He unfolded his hands and sat up. “Right before
yer vatter
's untimely death, he was in the process of signing over some paperwork to me. Perhaps you've seen it as you've gone through his things.”

“I'm sorry, Bishop Troyer. I still don't have any idea what you're talking about.” But as he continued to look at her, she felt her cheeks heat. She averted her gaze as she saw the smirk slide off his face.

“A lying tongue doesn't become you, Sadie.” He leaned forward in the chair. “Now, let's try this again. Where are the natural gas rights papers?”

“I don't—”

“
Ya
, you do know what I'm talking about. Because Aden told you.”

She snapped her gaze to his. “
Nee
, he didn't.”

The bishop scowled. “I can tell you're lying, so stop playing games. It doesn't matter anymore if Aden told you. I never expected him to actually follow through on his promise to me. That's why I'm here.” He lifted his upper lip in a sneer. “Ah, now you're looking confused. I see I have
yer
attention.”

“I promise,
Daed
never said anything about natural gas rights, or paperwork . . .” She held out her hands. “And we haven't found it either.”

“So you and Aden have looked.” The bishop stood. “It's imperative that you find those papers, sign them, and give them to me.” When Sadie started to shake her head, he lifted one finger. “That's not a request.”

“I can't give you what I don't have.”

The bishop moved closer to her. “You won't have anything if you don't find those papers. I can guarantee it.”

When Aden arrived at his parents' house, a strange feeling came over him. For some reason the simple house, with its plain white
paint and slate gray roof, wasn't welcoming. He relaxed a little when he saw his father's buggy wasn't in the driveway. But that also meant there was a good chance his mother wasn't home either.

He knocked on the door. No answer. He waited, then knocked again. He turned the doorknob, and it was locked. He went to the back and knocked twice, but there was no answer. That door was also locked.

Aden walked to the area where his hives used to be. Near the base of a dead pear tree—one he'd planted when he was a kid that had never produced any fruit—he started to dig, first with the toe of his boot, then with his hands as he removed a layer of grass and dirt. Years ago he'd been locked out of the house overnight, another one of his father's lessons. Shortly after, his mother secretly gave him a spare key, telling Aden to hide it carefully and not to use it unless it was an emergency.

He found the key, unlocked the door, and went inside. He quickly made his way through the house, calling out for his parents until he was sure neither was there. Then he stopped at his father's office. As usual, the door was closed. He never left it open, even when he wasn't home. Aden paused, then went inside.

Guilt bubbled up the moment he walked into the room. This was his father's personal sanctuary. He spent his time here in prayer, preparing for sermons, reading books in German about their Amish ancestors. Yet this was Aden's chance to find out whatever he could about the natural gas rights other members of the church had signed over to his father.

In a short time, he found what he was looking for.
Daed
didn't need to hide anything in here—he never expected it to be searched. In the top drawer Aden found three documents signing over natural gas rights to his father. So Timothy had been right. He found check stubs from dividend payments, some of
them showing staggering amounts. He also found a stack of bank statements for an account called Birch Creek Fund. There was less than two thousand dollars in the account.

But the math didn't make sense, not according to the dividend payments. Where was the rest of the money?

“Aden, what are you doing in here?”

He looked up to see his mother standing at the door, shock on her face. Aden shut the top drawer and turned to her. “
Nix
,” he said, putting his hands behind his back, as if she'd caught him sneaking a cookie from the jar, not snooping through his father's private papers.

“You shouldn't be in here,” she said, going to him. She put her hand on his arm. “You need to leave before
yer vatter
gets back.”

“Where did he
geh
?” Not that he expected her to know—or admit that she knew.

“He had church business to take care of.” She was practically dragging him out of the room.

Aden pulled out of his mother's grasp. “I'm going,” he said, following her hurried steps out of the office. He shut the door behind him. “Why didn't you answer the door?”

“I was out for a walk.”

She didn't normally take walks. As she looked up at him, he could see the worry lines deepening on her face. “Sol's okay,” he said, taking her hands.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“He's at
mei haus
.” That was becoming easier and more natural to say. “He's thin and tired, but he's
gut
.” Aden squeezed her hands. “He's better than
gut
. Something happened to him while he was gone. He's changed,
Mamm
. He's stopped drinking. He's sorry for everything he's done.”

Relief crossed her features for a brief moment, then disappeared into uneasiness. “
Yer vatter
can't know,” she said. “You can't tell him Solomon's with you.”

“I know. But that doesn't keep you from going to see him. I'll take you to Sol right now.”

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head.

“Okay, I'll
kumme
back later—”

“Aden, he's in the
bann
. I can't see him at all.” She turned her back on him. “
Geh
, Aden. I'll forget what I saw you doing. I'll forget what you just told me.”

“
Mamm
, listen. Things have changed—”

“It doesn't matter.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I will not
geh
against
yer vatter
.”

Fury rose within him. “Not even for
yer sohns
?”

She turned and looked at him, glassy-eyed. “Not even for
mei sohns
.”

CHAPTER 23

L
ater that evening, Sadie stirred her beef barley soup with her spoon, but she couldn't bring herself to eat any of it. The only person who seemed to have an appetite was Sol. When Aden had returned home from his parents' house, he'd been sullen. She'd seen Aden angry. Frustrated. Resigned. But never brooding. She didn't dare bring up the bishop's visit, especially in front of Sol, who hadn't said a word since they sat down at the table.

Outside a thunderclap sounded, making Sadie jerk. She glanced up and met Aden's morose gaze. Something had happened with his mother, and it seemed to set Aden back on his heels.

Sol wiped his mouth on his napkin and stood. “I'll take care of the horses,” he said as driving rain sounded against the roof.

“I'll do it.” Aden started to move back from the table, his soup bowl still close to full.

But Sol walked out the door before Aden could stand.

The rain pounded outside, interspersed with thunder. This
was the first storm they'd had since their wedding day. She looked at Aden, willing him to talk to her. Instead he stood, picked up his bowl, and put it on the counter.

“Aden?”

“Not now, Sadie.” He stormed out of the kitchen.

Dread filled her. He'd never been rude to her before. She pushed back from the table and left the kitchen, then went upstairs, determined to find out what was going on. She knocked on Abigail's closed door. “Aden?”