Gabriel's Bride (8 page)

The congregation behind them turned and knelt in silence. Gabriel clasped his hands between his knees and bowed his own head. He needed to pray. This was . . . wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and yet he was. It is said that every man has his cross to bear, but this wasn’t his burden. He had loved, lost, and was doing his best to raise his children on his own. He had his trials. But to ask God to let this pass from him seemed . . . selfish somehow, though he wasn’t sure why. The church needed a better leader than what he could give, or even what young David Troyer could offer. Samuel Beachy was the perfect man for the job.

But when the words formed in his head, it wasn’t to ask God to let the mantle of the deaconship pass from him and to fall about the more qualified Samuel. Instead it was a silent plea that God’s will be done. That was basically the same prayer. For surely God planned for Samuel Beachy to lead the district. It was the most logical choice.

“Aemen,”
John Zook finished.

The church members rose and sat back down as the bishop stepped forward. “It is time now for you men who have been called to step up and choose a hymnal. Please come forward when the Holy Spirit leads you.”

Gabriel wondered what Bishop Beachy would do if he continued sitting after the other men had chosen their book. He’d never know. On wobbly knees he stood and approached the table. There were two books left. David Troyer had already picked his and sat back down.

Gabriel studied each book in turn. They both looked so much the same, each in the same binding, each with a rubber band around it, only one with the verse inside. Or maybe not. Maybe the verse was in the one now held by the young David Troyer.

Something told him to pick the book on the left. He hated the fact that his hand shook as he reached toward it. He picked it up slowly as if in the replay mode that he had seen on the television in town. Book in hand, he returned to his seat. Only one book left and Samuel Beachy palmed it as if he hadn’t a concern in the world. More and more that proved to Gabriel that Beachy was the man for deacon’s position.

Samuel sat back on the bench next to him.

The bishop stepped toward David Troyer and took the hymnal that he held. He removed the rubber band and thumbed through the pages. Nothing. The bishop gave the young man a quick nod then moved down the line.

Rueben Beachy took Gabriel’s book, and he had to fight the urge to snatch it back. Taking it from the church leader would surely be frowned upon and would do no good on top of it all. It would only delay the announcements.

Carefully Beachy rolled the rubber band off the hard cover of the book. Gabriel willed his heart not to beat so fast. He should feel calm and collected. After all, this was not what God had planned for him. He knew it as surely as he knew the color of his eyes and the lay of his land.

The bishop slid the band over the tops of his fingers and gently cracked open the book. He thumbed through the pages, while Gabriel’s heart lurched. Then the book fell open in his hands, exposing the scrap of paper placed there just minutes ago by the minister.

The bishop smiled, though Gabriel was sure it was tinged with disappointment. “Gabriel Fisher. The lot has fallen on you.”

A numbness filled his limbs as the truth slowly sank in. He, Gabriel Fisher, was to be the next deacon in their district.

5

R
achel pulled her buggy to a stop in front of Gabriel Fisher’s house. She sat for a moment staring at the large two-story structure. What had she gotten herself into? How was she going to care for the frowning man and his brood of boys? She had never cared for a child.

She sat up straight, the more confident side of her taking over.
Then again, how hard could it be?
Surely it couldn’t be that difficult. Besides, some of the boys were big enough to fend for themselves.

Think of Sadie and the rest of the goats.
The living creatures that she had raised. Surely taking care of a human kid couldn’t be much different from taking care of a goat kid.

She laughed at her own joke, then snorted and nearly choked as Gabriel Fisher burst out of the house and glared at her from the porch.

She instantly sobered and wiped her hands down her clean black apron.
“Guder mariye.”

He gave a stern nod. “Are you coming inside, Rachel Yoder?”

“I-uh, I . . .” She coughed again, then stepped out of the buggy and onto the farm belonging to the frowning man before her. One thing was certain: Gabriel Fisher was going to take some getting used to. He was big and frowny and seemed to intimidate her just by breathing.

But she had made her choice. This was the only way. Moving to Ohio required too many sacrifices. At least on Gabriel’s farm she was in charge of her own life. Well, mostly. At least she was earning her keep, and she still had her livelihood. She wasn’t totally dependent on him as she would be on her cousin if she went all the way to Ohio.
Jah
, she had made the choice and she was bound to stick to it.

“Jah,”
she finally managed to squeeze out. “I am coming in.”

Gabriel motioned her inside. “Come meet the
kinder
. I’ll take care of your horses while you clean up the breakfast dishes.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he had messed up the dishes and therefore he should be the one to clean them, but washing dishes was one of the chores he expected her to perform. After all, how bad could it be?

Bad. The kitchen looked as if every last bowl and spoon in the house had been used in the making of one meal. She bit back her gasp of dismay and tried not to stare at the mess as Gabriel Fisher stepped forward and introduced her to his children.

He laid his hand on the shoulder of a younger version of himself. “This here is Matthew. He’s fifteen and the oldest.”

“No, he’s not. Mary Elizabeth is the oldest.”

Rachel watched as Gabriel Fisher’s beautiful green eyes misted over. It seemed he had a heart after all. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised over that discovery or the fact that she thought he had beautiful eyes. Maybe she would have noticed them before now if he didn’t go around scowling at everybody all the time.

“That is enough, Simon,” he told the second tallest
bu
in the room, who was still taller than she. The youngster had the same eyes as his father but hair the color of faded dandelions. If Rachel had to guess she’d say he was about thirteen.

“Guder mariye.”
He politely nodded and gave her a smile, but his sweet dimples somehow looked shockingly mischievous. Or was that just her imagination?

“Then there’s David. He’s eleven. And Joseph. He’s eight.” Gabriel indicated the next two boys, each one with their father’s dark, dark hair, but clear blue eyes they must have inherited from their mother. “And I believe you’ve met Samuel.”

The small redheaded boy smiled, his front teeth missing since the first time that she had seen him, and Rachel felt her heart melt all over again. Sweet, sweet Samuel.

“I’m six,” he said with a grin. “How many are you?”

Rachel smiled. “I’m twenty plus six. Do you know how much that is?”

Samuel shook his head.

“We’ll work on it together,” she said.

“Are you coming to be our mother?”

Rachel blinked at Samuel’s blatant question, then gathered her wits enough to shake her head.
“Nay,”
she whispered, though she felt in that moment she would move heaven and earth to give this child anything he needed. “I’ve come to help your father around the house, cooking and cleaning and such.”

Samuel tilted back his head, his red hair shining like a new kettle. “’Cuz Mary Elizabeth is gone.” He replaced the
r
in his sister’s name with a
w
so it sounded more like “Mawy.”

“Jah.”
Rachel had heard through the talk at the general store that Gabriel’s oldest child had gone to join the
Englisch
, but she could tell by the way he shifted behind her, Gabriel Fisher was not comfortable talking about it.

“Are you staying until she gets back?” David asked. Or was it Joseph? They were enough alike to be twins. Only an inch or so separated them in height. Heaven help her when they started moving around.

Rachel gave a quick nod. “Of course.”

“
Buwe!
Get your lunches and get on to school. That new teacher will have your hide if you’re not there on time.”

The boys did as he bade, each grabbing an insulated lunchbox before heading out the door.

All but Samuel. He tugged on her skirt, urging her to kneel down next to him.

“Aren’t you going too?” she asked.

He shook his head, his sweet cherub mouth pulled down at the corners.

“Samuel doesn’t go to school anymore.”

Rachel whirled around, standing up at the same time and almost toppling over. For a moment she’d forgotten Gabriel Fisher was in the room. A miracle she was sure, but she had momentarily blocked him from her mind.

“What do you mean ‘anymore’?”

He nodded toward the child. “When his
aenti
was the teacher he went with her every day, but since then . . . well, the new teacher isn’t sure that she can give him the attention that he needs.”

Nonsense. That was the first word that popped into her head, but Rachel managed to bite it back. It’d do no good to get off on bad footing with Gabriel or the teacher. Really, what concern of it was hers if Samuel went to school or stayed at home? He was quiet and gentle. It wasn’t like he would be in her way.

She shrugged. “I guess I should start on . . . the dishes.” She glanced around the room which seemed to have soiled kitchenware of one kind or another piled up on every available surface.

“Samuel,” Gabriel said in that deep voice of his. “Do you want to go to the field with me or stay here with Rachel?”

The
bu
chewed on his lower lip, looking from one of them to the other as if weighing the benefits and drawbacks of each decision. Finally he asked, “If I stay here can I have a cookie?”

“Of course,” Rachel said on top of Gabriel’s “Absolutely not.”

She looked to the man who stood, hands propped on hips, as he stared at her like she had just grown a donkey’s tail. Or rather he glared at her, green eyes biting in their intensity.

Gut himmel!
She hadn’t even been there half an hour and already Gabriel looked like he wanted to toss her out with the breakfast scraps.

“I mean,” she stammered. “After lunch, maybe.” She turned on her heel, but not before she saw the flash of disappointment cross young Samuel’s freckled face.

“Come on, Samuel. We have work to do.” Gabriel clasped the young boy on the shoulder and steered him from the house.

Rachel shook her head at her own hasty mistakes and twisted on the water handle. Thankfully the water turned warm at the tap, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Not all the districts were allowed to have indoor plumbing and water heated before it reached the pipes. She doubted that this district would be any different from her own, nor did she think Ohio would be so conservative, but she wasn’t about to take these things for granted. With the mounds of dirty dishes she now faced, she was glad for the convenience.

She ran some water into the sink, added some dish soap, and got down to work.

In what seemed like half the day later, but in truth was only a couple of hours, she heard the dogs start barking from the front yard. They had visitors. Most likely the truck with her goats. Excitement zinged through her.

For the most part, she had settled into her new room. After washing the dishes, drying them, and putting them away, she had gone back to her buggy to retrieve her things.

She had always been one for simple living, but to see all of her worldly goods packed into one carrying case and a cardboard box seemed sad somehow. She reminded herself that her earthly treasure was in her goats and all the potential they had. So she had hung up her few dresses, her winter coat, and her bonnet and waited for her other “possessions” to arrive.

She ran out onto the porch just as the driver swung down from the truck, a clipboard in his hand.