Gabriel's Bride (33 page)

Rachel climbed into the back seat of Bill Foster’s van and buckled herself in. Samuel had been settled in the front, his seat leaned all the way back so he could rest during the long trip back to Clover Ridge.

In the back, Gabriel climbed in beside her, not even looking her way. Their shoulders touched, as Rachel sat in the middle of the long seat, giving Samuel ample room to recline. His rest was more important than her discomfort. How she hated being so close to Gabriel, yet unable to communicate with him.

It had been a long two weeks, but finally they were going home. Gabriel had hardly said two words to her in those fourteen long days, had hardly spared her a glance.

Not that she could blame him.

Mary Elizabeth was right: She was a terrible Amish woman. She couldn’t cook or clean properly. She burned everything from eggs to cookies, her house seemed constantly untidy, and now this. She was woefully lacking in the care of the
kinder
.

But to have Gabriel reflect that attitude toward her was almost more than she could bear.

He had done so much for her: taking her in, giving her a home, marrying her when there was no other choice that would allow her to stay in Clover Ridge. And how had she repaid him? By endangering his son’s life.

Then there was this burning love she held in her heart. How stupid to go and fall in love with her husband. They had an agreement, and she had broken it.

She laid her head back against the seat and pretended that she couldn’t feel his every breath, didn’t love him so much it hurt. The worst part of all was not that he didn’t love her in return, but that he held her in such contempt.

Ach
, he was a good Amish man. He would never go so far as to say as much, to show her how he felt, but the anger came off him in waves, burning her with its intensity.

How could she live with him now? She couldn’t stand the thought of him being mad at her, hating her with his every breath. That he was unable to even look at her spoke volumes about his true feelings, even if he was too godly of a man to say as much.

He had to know that she’d rather die than have anything happen to Samuel. Yet she had let them down, had made a decision that had nearly cost him his life. She couldn’t be trusted with
kinder
. Even those who she loved more than life itself.

It was only a matter of time before Gabriel would send her away. Only a matter of time till looking at his son, maimed as a result of her poor choices, was more than he could bear.

Mind made up, she knew what she had to do.

Gabriel settled the still sleeping Samuel into his bed. He propped up his injured arm on an extra pillow to protect it, then pulled the covers up over his son, tucking him in tight, as if that could protect him from further ill.

Then Gabriel sat on the edge of his son’s bed and wept.

How close they had come to losing him. How very, very close. Had it not been for Rachel’s quick action and thinking—getting him to John Paul and then onto the doctor in time, breaking the
Ordnung
and letting them take him in the helicopter . . .

His heart broke that Samuel’s hand was forever altered, forever less than God had made it, but he knew also in his heart of hearts that it could have been so much worse. He owed Rachel so much, owed her more than he could ever repay. Yet he hadn’t been able to say those words to her. Hadn’t been able to thank her for saving his son’s life. The emotions were too raw, too real just yet to share with another. So he’d shoved them down inside until a time when he could deal with them.

Still they burned his insides like flames, clawing at him to get out. He was a man, protector and provider. He couldn’t allow emotions to rule above all else. It was not a man’s way. It was not the Amish way.

He wiped the tears from his face, planted a kiss on his sleeping son’s forehead, then let himself out of the room. He took extra care avoiding Rachel that evening, knowing if faced with her he’d have to bare his soul, and that was something he wasn’t prepared to do. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

20

I
t took Rachel three days to get everything into place. Three days of holding back her tears, of hiding the pain in her heart. It was a beautiful day, this third day of Samuel’s home recovery. The sun shone brightly, birds chirped, growing crops swayed in the warm breeze. She put Samuel down for his afternoon nap, his rest deep and untroubled, aided by the pain pills the doctor had prescribed.

She brushed his hair back from his face, resisting the urge to dot each freckle, trace the shape of his eyes, the line of his nose. Anything and everything to etch his sweet face into her memory. She could only hope that one day he would forgive her. She could only hope that one day she could forgive herself.

“Good-bye,
liebschdi
.” She placed one last kiss on his sleeping cheek, then made her way to her room.

Her suitcase lay on the bed, packed and waiting. It was almost time. The Mennonite driver would soon be waiting for her at the end of the road to take her to the bus station. She hadn’t hired Bill Foster, certain that he would try to stop her and that would never do. It was going to be hard enough to walk away from this family that had come to mean so much to her.

That’s all she had wanted. Since the accident that had taken her
elders
and
bruders
, a family had become her dream. An unfulfilled one until recently. She had thought in marrying Gabriel she would have the family she had always wanted.

But some things just weren’t meant to be.

She should have prayed more, listened with her brain instead of her heart. Just because she wanted something, didn’t mean it was part of God’s plan for her. This just proved it. Now it was time to do what she should have done from the start.

She would soon be on her way to Ohio.

She pressed a hand to her queasy stomach, the stress of gathering her things together, of doing what she knew she must was getting the better of her. She swallowed back what little breakfast she had eaten.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up the suitcase and turned toward the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Mary Elizabeth!” Rachel dropped her suitcase with a thud and pressed her hand to her heart. “You scared me. What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you and Samuel.”

Rachel nodded and reached for her suitcase handle.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Mary Elizabeth’s voice was firm but full of inquiry.

Rachel pressed her lips together. She thought she had been so clever. She had waited until everyone was gone. Samuel would rest for a solid hour. By then Gabriel would be back, Matthew would come in for
middawk
, and she would be gone.

“Rachel?”

“I’m leaving.” On unsteady legs she pushed forward, thinking she would brush past Mary Elizabeth and keep walking until she hit the door. She only made it to the hallway leading to the stairs.

“Why?”

She stopped, unable to take the rest of the steps that would allow her escape. “I can’t do it anymore,” she said without turning around. “I can’t look at Samuel knowing that he would be whole if not for me.”

Rachel felt a hand on her arm, the caring of another’s touch seeping through the fabric of her dress to warm her. Tears filled her eyes.

“You can’t leave. We need you too much.”

Rachel managed the courage to turn and face her stepdaughter. She would have liked to have gotten to know her better, to do some quilting and canning together as she did to help her own mother once upon a time. She would have liked to help Mary Elizabeth settle back into the community, to heal from all the disappointments of the
Englisch
world.

“No one here needs me. Matthew is practically a man, and the other boys have been trying to get rid of me from the start.” She turned back toward the door.

“What about
Dat
?”

What about Gabriel? He needed a housekeeper, someone to cook and clean, do the laundry, and get the
buwe
to school on time. But that was it.

She had been a fool to take him up on his marriage proposal, a hopeless romantic fool. She could see that so clearly now. She had been too naïve to recognize that it was a disaster waiting to happen. She had forced it, made a relationship where there was none, had fallen in love with a man who said he’d never love again. A hopeless romantic fool.

“He doesn’t need me.” She started down the stairs, Mary Elizabeth dogging her heels.

“Then why did he marry you?”

Together they burst through the front door nearly side by side. “He needed a housekeeper,” Rachel said over her shoulder.

“I don’t believe that for a minute.”

Rachel kept moving, her words flying into the wind. “It’s true. He married me because he needed someone to take care of the house and the
kinder
. The church elders thought it improper for us to be unmarried and under the same roof.” Once she got to the drive she started walking faster. She didn’t know the driver well and he might not wait for her. He might just as soon leave thinking that she had changed her mind. She had to leave now, while she had the courage to go through with it.

“He could have built you a room on the back. A
dawdihaus
. But he married you.”

Rachel didn’t want to think about that. How she could have moved in with Ruth and Abram, rented a place in town, or maybe went on to stay with an unmarried widow like Beth Troyer. Instead she had jumped at the proposal, seeing it as pulling her into a family, a replacement for the one she had lost.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the county road. There, up ahead, was a blue sedan. Her driver had parked the car on the small shoulder at the end of the cornfield.

“Rachel,” Mary Elizabeth’s voice filled with concern. “Are you really going through with this?”

She bit back her tears. “I don’t have any other choice.”

“You could stay.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t remain in a hopeless marriage. There was too much pain surrounding her. She couldn’t look at Samuel’s sweet face every day knowing that she had directly caused his disfigurement. She couldn’t live with Gabriel knowing that he could never love her. It was too much to ask a person. Entirely too much.

She peered through the passenger side window to the young man she had hired to take her to the bus station.

“Rachel Fisher?” he asked.

She bit back the pain. “
Jah.
” She opened the back door to the car and placed her suitcase inside. She closed it with a thud.

“Rachel, don’t do this.”

“She going too?” the Mennonite asked, with a nod toward Mary Elizabeth.

“
Nay
.” Rachel grasped the handle on the passenger’s side door and slid inside.

The Mennonite started the engine.

“Rachel, please.” Mary Elizabeth clutched her arm through the rolled down window.

She hated the tears that slid from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. She looked into Mary Elizabeth’s face. “Take care of Samuel for me.”

The Mennonite put the car in gear.

“Rachel!”

She turned toward the front and stiffened her backbone against the pounding of her heart. “Let’s go.”

He paused for only a second before pulling the sedan onto the road, leaving Mary Elizabeth running behind and calling her name.

“It’s okay if you have changed your mind.” Perhaps the Mennonite could feel the regret pounding through her veins.

She shook her head. “It’s too late for that.” Way too late.

Rachel looked back only once to see Mary Elizabeth still standing and watching her drive away. Then they turned the corner, and she was gone.