Gabriel's Bride (23 page)

He turned back to the front before he gave into the temptation to push some of those wayward curls of light brown hair back under her prayer covering.
That
wasn’t part of their agreement. Nor was seeing if those strands were as soft and silky as they looked. Or rubbing his thumb across the curve of her cheekbone . . . the thin line of her scar.

He sighed. What had gotten into him lately?

Maybe it was just the fact that she was living in his house. They were married after all, and there was a certain intimacy that came along with such a pledge. An intimacy they had promised to ignore.

So why wasn’t he ignoring it?

“Gabriel!” Rachel tugged on his arm, pushing his elbow into the air. “You almost missed the bid.”

His chin jerked up. He’d been too busy thinking about the woman at his side to pay enough attention to the auction. In the process, he’d almost missed his chance to buy her the brown and white goat she loved so much.

He tilted his head in her direction. “
Gut
thing I have you watching out for me.”

She smiled as if she liked the idea of them being a team. Or maybe that was merely wishful thinking on his part. Whatever it was, he needed to be more mindful of it in the future. Life would be long and hard if he couldn’t hold a thought in his head just because Rachel was sitting too near.

Despite his lack of concentration, they managed to buy a slew of goats—including the brown and white female that Rachel adored.

“I’m going to call her Sundae.”

“Like church?” he asked.

She smiled. “Like ice cream.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure why the doe had captured his wife’s heart, but she acted as if he’d given her a puppy or a kitten and not chattel.

After he arranged for the delivery of the goats and checked on the transport of the hogs he’d purchased, they decided to walk around and check out the other sights, eat more fried foods from the vendors, and drink sweet fountain drinks through straws. They garnered a few looks as they roamed and explored the auction grounds. A few people even openly stared.

Gabriel hated that for Rachel’s sake. She seemed so young and innocent, like she had not been out much. He supposed that living with Katherine Yoder was the reason for that. Katherine had always been an odd duck, not so much
ab im kopp
as just . . . different. She rarely visited, or attended many quilting bees or other frolics that the women held between the districts. As a result, Rachel seemed more sheltered than the typical Amish girl.

Woman
, he corrected himself. She was twenty-six and married. He could hardly call her a girl. But her small stature made her seem younger, and made him feel more protective.

As if to further prove his point, Rachel’s toe caught under one of the big power cables running along the ground, and she started to fall.

He grabbed her elbow. “
Geb acht
, Rachel.” Then he hauled her back to her feet before she could tumble headlong across the pavement.

“
Danki
, Gabriel.” Her voice was breathless and wispy, her hand braced against his chest to keep her from crashing into him.

His heart thudded. His breath hitched. Slowly he set her away from him, and they continued their stroll.

He glanced at the summer sun, still hanging high in the sky. It had to be about four. “It’s about time to meet Bill Foster.” By the time they met Bill and started home it would be nearly five, putting them at home in Clover Ridge well after seven.

“
Jah,
” she said with a nod. He wondered if her voice really was as wistful as it sounded to his ears or if having her so close was playing tricks on him.

He turned them around, and they headed back to the front gate.

But Bill Foster’s van wasn’t there. They waited quietly, but still he didn’t come. Gabriel talked with a few of the men who had come to the auction while Rachel kept a watchful gaze out for their Mennonite driver.

“Gabriel Fisher? Gabriel Fisher?” He heard his name before he saw who was calling him. An
Englisch
boy of about sixteen was searching through the milling crowd.

“
Jah
.” He raised his hand and gave a small wave. “I am Gabriel Fisher.”

“I have a phone call for you.”

Gabriel nodded, recognizing the teenager as one of the handlers during the auction.

He handed Gabriel a small device, flat and smooth. It took a second for its purpose to register and then he recognized it as one of those newfangled, extra-fancy cell phones.

Gabriel gave a nod, took the phone, and pressed it to his ear. “
Jah?
”

“Gabriel, is that you?”

“
Jah
.” He recognized the voice on the other end as belonging to Bill Foster, but there was a lot of noise in the background, talking and buzzing and what sounded like someone making an announcement over a microphone.

“There’s been an accident, Gabriel.”

His heart sank in his chest. “An accident?” His mind raced with flashes of his boys injured, Mary Elizabeth hurt, his
mamm
. . .

“My niece, Ashley . . . she got a fishhook caught at the corner of her eye. They’re taking her into surgery now. She might lose that eye. I can’t leave my brother alone. His wife is out of town, and the other girls are here . . .”

“I understand.” Gabriel nodded, momentarily forgetting that Bill couldn’t see him.

“Tomorrow, we’ll know more, and I can take you home then.”

“We could get a hotel room for the night.” What other option did they have?

“I’ll reimburse you for it.”

He would not. Gabriel wouldn’t allow it. But now wasn’t the time to argue about such matters. “We can discuss all that once your kin is out of danger.”

On the other side of the line, Bill let out a lengthy heartfelt sigh. “I appreciate that, Gabriel.”

“There is not a need to thank me, but
gern gschehne
all the same, Bill Foster. We will say extra prayers for your family tonight.”

Gabriel handed the phone back to the boy and thanked him for his trouble.

“What happened?” Rachel asked as the teenager walked away.

“Bill Foster’s niece had an accident. He has to stay with her and cannot take us home until tomorrow.”

She gave a small nod, then looked around as if searching for an answer to their dilemma. “What do we do?”

He caught her gaze, hoping to still her worries. “We can have someone call a taxi to take us to a hotel.” There were no other options. It was too far home for anyone to give them a ride or for anyone else to come and get them. Worst case, they could ride back in the delivery truck with the goats. But either way, they had to spend the night and pray for the best for Bill Foster’s niece once the morning came.

Rachel gave him a slow, expressionless nod, as if she agreed with his conclusion, but also had her doubts. If he were being honest, he had a few of his own.

13

W
elcome to the Holiday Inn South. How may I help you tonight?”

Rachel watched as Gabriel took a step closer to the desk and the smiling man in the green jacket who stood behind it. The man’s smile never wavered, making it seem forced, like he was covering up his real feelings.

Get a hold of yourself, Rachel Fisher
. She twisted her hands together, then dropped her tingling fingers to her sides. There was no reason for the man to be anything but polite, but she still thought that from behind that plastic smile he was mocking them.

She really needed to get out a little more; not a lot, but just enough to keep her from imagining that every
Englischer
was secretly making fun of her.

“I have a double room with a queen-size bed on the second floor,” the man in the green jacket said, clicking some keys on his computer and pausing to hear Gabriel’s answer.

Her husband let out a little cough, Rachel sure he was choking on their reality. A queen-size bed?
One
bed?

“We were hoping for a room with two beds.”

The man looked from Gabriel to her, and then back at his computer screen. “O-kay.” Somehow the word sounded anything but fine. “There is an extra charge for a double room, double occupancy,” he warned.

“That’s
allrecht
. All right.” Gabriel coughed again.

The man pushed more buttons and a machine behind him started clicking and humming.

Rachel let go of her concerns as she watched the machine spit out papers. When it finished, she looked at Gabriel in wonder over this modern world she found herself in. But just as quickly, she looked away. For she had noticed a strange light in Gabriel’s green eyes, a light that had made her uncomfortable.

She stepped back from the counter and stared at her feet until Gabriel touched her arm. He barely brushed against her before jerking back, as if the fabric of her sleeve had somehow burned him.

“Come on.” He nodded toward the elevator, mindful of the clerk’s eyes on them as they entered the paneled box.

Gabriel pushed the button marked “6” and took hold of the metal bar running behind them in the cart. “Better hold on,” he said.

Rachel didn’t have time to reply as the doors slid shut and her world shifted. She laughed a little, her voice strangled and thrilled at the same time. She felt as if she had been lifted off the ground by a giant. It was thrilling and scary and amazing all in the same instance.

“Almost there.” Gabriel pointed to the lighted numbers above the door. The four was illuminated. Rachel had only a second to enjoy the return of a normal feeling in her gut before they jerked to a stop, and her stomach shifted once again.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, though she thought she might be sick. And she thought riding in a car was bad!

Gabriel took her arm and led her from the tiny car. Rachel was grateful for his support as he escorted her to their room.

He used a funny little card to open the door. Then he gestured for her to precede him into the room, snapping on the electric light as he shut the door behind them.

“I’m not sure he’d ever seen an Amish person before.”

“Hmm?” Rachel looked back at her husband. They had never been alone like this before. As a married couple, it should be no problem, but theirs was no ordinary marriage.

“I said I don’t think he’s ever seen an Amish couple before.”

She tried to smile.

Gabriel swiveled a look around. “Do you want to watch the television?”

She turned toward the box directly opposite the bed. “Do you think it’s all right to watch it?”

Gabriel raised one dark brow in question. “Are you worried about the clerk, or the bishop?”

“The bishop,” she whispered.

He gave her a mischievous grin that transported his face back twenty years. “The bishop need not know.”

She would have to pray about the little thrill she got at the thought of doing something not approved by the
Ordnung
. Other than praying and watching TV, what were they going to do all night?

She looked at the bed—thankful there were two—and swallowed hard.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Would you like to take a shower, or do you want to go find something to eat first?”

“Eat,” she said automatically. Anything beat standing in the intimate room with her husband wondering about the next step. At least eating would get them far away from the beds that seemed to mock her very existence.