Marrying Jonah Page 18

  “It’s not a big deal,” Jonah said.

  The men shuffled in place.

  “It’s not.”

  They all nodded, but no one met his gaze. They all knew what it meant that he came without Sarah—that his marriage was in serious trouble. The Amish might not divorce, but that didn’t mean they had to live with each other. He remembered one or two couples who had split after their children were grown. But it had been a long time since anything like that had happened in Wells Landing.

  Just because he came without Sarah didn’t mean they were having such troubles, but everyone assumed that they were. Okay, so maybe they were. But that didn’t mean . . .

  He was only kidding himself. His marriage was in grave trouble, and he was helpless to stop that downward spiral.

  * * *

  The next few days passed much the same. It seemed that now that she had made a stand and stayed at home when she didn’t want to go to a dumb volleyball game, she and Jonah were living separate lives.

  He had headed off somewhere today, so she had called a driver and got a ride to her parents’ house. She needed to be surrounded by a few happy faces.

  She paid the driver, then sent him on his way.

  “Mamm?” She walked into the warm interior, immediately feeling as if she had been wrapped in a hug. The delicious scent of sugar cookies drifted around the room and she knew where to find her mother and most probably Annie.

  “I knew I’d find you in here.” She smiled at the two of them sitting around the table decorating the cookies with colored icing, eating the broken ones and washing it all down with warm coffee.

  “Sarah.” Annie’s chair scraped against the floor as she pushed back and stood to give her a hug.

  “What brings you out today?” her mamm asked.

  “Do I have to have a special reason to come out and visit?”

  Her mother smiled as Sarah crossed the room to give her a hug. She missed the hugs most of all. A woman shouldn’t miss her family like this when she got married, but the love was supposed to balance out. She might be losing a little of the love from her mother and sisters, but the love of her husband was there to take up for the loss. It was the way of the world. But not her marriage. Her marriage was doomed even before it had a chance to start.

  “Sit down and you can decorate cookies with us.”

  It had been a tradition in the Yoder household as long as she could remember. Every year they baked the cookies together.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Can we talk about Christmas?” Annie asked, licking the icing from her fingers.

  “We can, but you need to wash your hands first.” Her mother shot Annie a loving frown. Sarah wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously. She had missed them both so much. She wanted them, she loved them, she needed them.

  “You are coming for Christmas?” Annie asked. “At least for pie.”

  Sarah flashed through her and Jonah’s agreement. But that was before. Now . . .

  If he could go running off any time he wanted, why did she have to keep up her end of the deal? Let him go to his parents’ house and she would come here. She’d rather spend the Lord’s birthday surrounded by love than under the hateful stare of Gertie Miller.

  * * *

  It was probably the worst decision he had ever made. Or maybe the second worst after that night by the pond.

  “I was surprised to get your call.” April was sitting outside the gas station in her little blue car, her cheeks flushed with heat or cold, or maybe embarrassment. He didn’t know.

  “You said if I ever needed a friend.” And he did need a friend. He needed someone neutral who didn’t have all the Amish culture tainting her every thought.

  She nodded, her blond ponytail slipping across one shoulder. “And I meant that.”

  His heart gave an odd thump, but it didn’t feel like when he was around Sarah. This felt more like . . . guilt.

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned down to better see April. She was really pretty. And nice too. And not yelling at him for nothing and picking at him for the smallest imaginary infraction.

  “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  She looked around. Not many customers were going into the Gas and Go, but that could change at any minute. It had gotten colder since December hit, and the clouds held the threat of snow. Anytime that happened, all the bread and milk disappeared off the store shelves. Once the grocer was out, they would start coming to the Gas and Go and clean them out as well. What everyone was doing with bread and milk was beyond him. It was just the way the world worked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “No.” He shrugged. None of this was a good idea, and yet he couldn’t put a stop to it.

  “How about some place a little public but still kind of private?”

  He knew just the place. “Follow me.”

  He was so very aware of her behind him all the way out of town. And he was certain everyone knew that she was following him, that he had called her, that he thought she was pretty, and that his marriage was falling apart. Well, everyone knew his marriage was in trouble, but they also understood that short of leaving the faith, there was nothing he could do about the disastrous union he and Sarah had forged.

  “Nice place,” she said, as she got out of the car.

  Jonah looked at the house as if seeing it for the first time. His father had kept it up over the years. Eli Miller took pride in his house. “Thanks,” Jonah said, then started for the porch.

  “Who lives here?”

  “My mother, father, two of my brothers, and my baby sister.”

  Her steps faltered a bit, or maybe she tripped over the heels on her boots. She caught herself and straightened. “That’s a lot of people.”

  And that was exactly why he had chosen the place. He wanted to spend some time with April and he knew that he couldn’t do anything there with all his family around.

  He reached for the doorknob and stopped. “About my brother Buddy . . .”

  She gave him an inquisitive look that he took as encouragement.

  “He’s a little different,” Jonah said, but before he could explain, the door was wrenched from his hand.

  “I thought I heard you!” Buddy grinned from the other side of the threshold, then his expression fell as he caught sight of April. “Who’s she?”

  “This is my friend April. April, this is my brother Buddy.”

  “Nice to meet you, Buddy. Is that your real name?”

  He made a face as Jonah and April stepped into the house. “No, but that’s what everyone calls me.”

  “I like it.”

  “Do you want some pie and coffee?” Jonah asked.

  Before April could answer, his mother bustled into the room. “Buddy, who’s out here? I thought I heard—” She caught sight of the two of them standing with Buddy. “Oh, hello.”

  “Hi.” April’s voice was confident and sure, as if it was no big thing standing in their entryway greeting his Amish family. He had heard people stutter all over themselves when they talked to an Amish person, but not April.

  “Mamm, this is my friend April. April,” he said in introduction, “this is my mother.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” April said.

  The Amish weren’t big on introductions, and his mother merely nodded.

  “We thought we would come by and have a piece of pie.”

  “Buddy,” Mamm started, “will you take April to the kitchen for us, please?”

  His brother frowned but didn’t protest. “Come on, April. I think they want to talk without us here.”

  April’s smile never wavered, but her gaze darted from Jonah to his mother, then back again. He’d have to explain later. She gave him one last look before disappearing into the kitchen with Buddy.

  “What is going on here, Jonah?”

  He frowned. “Nothing.”

  Mamm nodded. “She’s not a nothing.”

  “She’s ju
st a friend.”

  “An English friend.”

  He shrugged. “So? What difference does it make that she’s English?”

  “None, I suppose, but it does matter that you are married.”

  He resisted the urge to sigh . . . loudly. “We’re friends, remember?”

  “Jonah, I know the time you spent in the English world changed you. But you know better than this. A man and a woman can’t be friends that way.”

  “That isn’t true.”

  “I’m sure Sarah might have something different to say about it.”

  He shook his head. “When did you start taking Sarah’s side?”

  “There are no sides here, son.”

  “You have never liked Sarah. Why are you so concerned about how she feels all of a sudden?”

  His mother opened her mouth and closed it again, then once more, resembling a fish pulled onto the bank of the river. “This is wrong, Jonah,” she said once she finally found her voice.

  “I’m not doing anything. I haven’t done anything. We’re just friends.” He pushed past her and into the kitchen.

  Thankfully she didn’t follow. Maybe it was a mistake to come here. He knew he couldn’t invite April to his house, and he wanted to sit and talk with her for a while. They could have gone into Kauffman’s, but he would have to endure much more than his mother’s scorn if he took another woman in there. No, this was the best by far. And still it wasn’t perfect.

  “Is something wrong?” April asked. Her soft brown eyes gazed at him sympathetically.

  “No, of course not. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He moved to the stove to start it brewing. He had become quite efficient in kitchen chores since Sarah had slipped into her anger or depression or whatever it was.

  “I got the pie.” Buddy came to the table bearing three saucers with heaping slices of coconut pie.

  Jonah cleared his throat. “Buddy, would you mind eating your pie in the living room?”

  His brother frowned. “But you’re in here.”

  Exactly. “I wanted to be able to visit with April a little, okay?” He slipped into the chair across from her.

  “You don’t want to visit with me?”

  “I do. But April has to go home soon. What if you eat your pie in the living room today and tomorrow I’ll come by and we can visit then.”

  He cast a dubious glance toward April. “Just the two of us?”

  “Just the two of us.”

  Buddy nodded. “Okay then.” He waved with his fork and started out of the room. Then he turned back and made a face. “I like Sarah better.”

  “Buddy!”

  But he was already gone.

  April covered his hand with hers. “It’s okay. He’s just looking out for you.”

  “It’s not okay at the expense of others’ feelings.”

  April gave an understanding nod. “When you get right down to it, he didn’t say anything bad about me. He just reinforced his preference for Sarah.”

  “How’d you get so smart?” he asked.

  “That’s what I do. Counseling.”

  Was that why she was so easy to talk to?

  “I work with a lot of kids just like Buddy. He was just letting you know that he thinks you’re messing up. And he did it in the only way he knows how.”

  “By being rude?” Jonah asked, his tone lighter than his words.

  “By bringing up Sarah.”

  The water started to boil and Jonah made his way back to the stove. Making coffee was better than staring into those knowing brown eyes. At least they didn’t accuse. But now that he knew she was a counselor . . . did that change things?

  “Luke told me about the baby.” Her quiet words fell like bricks between them. The words should have hurt, but he had hardened his heart. They weren’t having a baby after all, but as far as their marriage went, it didn’t change a thing.

  “Jah?” He did his best to make his voice sound offhand, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But his hands shook as he carried their mugs back to the table. He wondered if she noticed.

  “How are things with Sarah?” she asked once he had settled back into his seat.

  “Are you asking as a therapist or a friend?”

  She laughed. “A friend, of course.”

  “Angry.” It was the one word that he could use to describe her. “But she’s not angry with everyone. Just me.”

  “I would say that’s understandable given the circumstances.”

  “How come? I didn’t do anything.”

  “Nor could you. But you would be the one person who should have been able to help.”

  Jonah took a sip of his coffee and let that sink in. He wasn’t sure he understood it all. Maybe it was just a lot of English mumbo jumbo.

  “We were starting to get along, finally.” He sighed. “Then she lost the baby and everything changed.”

  She cupped her hands around her mug and raised it to her lips, her eyes thoughtful. “Is it true what they say about Amish marriages?”

  “You’ll have to be more specific. They say a lot of things about Amish marriages.”

  “That you can’t get divorced.”

  He nodded. “That’s true.” He had heard a few grumblings around that some bishops in other less conservative districts had allowed a divorce or two, but he could neither prove nor disprove this. He thought back to Cephas Ebersol. He was as fair a bishop as they came, but Jonah couldn’t imagine him allowing them to get a divorce based on “I don’t want to be married any longer.” For some reason Jonah had yet to understand why God had brought the two of them together. And they would just have to ride it out to see all the reasons.

  “Wow.”

  “You think that’s a bad rule?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not saying one way or another, but it seems to me that a lot of people could benefit from following that.”

  “And the others?”

  She frowned. “Not so much. But maybe it would keep people from getting married without really giving it some thought.”

  It hadn’t done anything for him and Sarah. “Maybe,” he went ahead and said anyway. It seemed the right thing to say.

  “Are you going to eat your pie?” Jonah asked. They had been talking so much neither one had even taken the first bite.

  “It’s an awfully big piece.”

  Jonah laughed. “That’s the only problem with asking Buddy to serve sweets. His helping is twice anyone else’s.”

  “Got a sweet tooth, does he?”

  “One to match his sweet heart.”

  April forked up a bite of pie. “Oh, my gosh.”

  “What?”

  “It’s definitely true what they say about Amish food. This is delicious.”

  He nodded and took another bite. No one could beat his mother’s coconut pie. “You’ll have to come back and have dinner sometime. You can meet the whole family.”

  April flashed him that sweet, sweet smile. “I would like that.”

  * * *

  Gertie waited until the woman left before she grabbed Jonah’s arm. “What are you doing, son?”

  He looked down at her fingers wrapped around his arm. “I’m going home.”

  “So you do remember where you live.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I thought perhaps you forgot since you saw fit to invite that young woman back here again.”

  “It’s nothing, Mamm. Just dinner.”

  “It’s not gut, Jonah. Not gut at all.”

  “There’s nothing going on,” he said. Not that there had been at one time. She could see the guilt in his eyes. He hadn’t kissed the girl good-bye before she got in her car and left. Gertie knew. She had been watching from the window, but just because he wasn’t physically cheating didn’t mean he wasn’t cheating in his heart.

  “You need to keep your heart pure,” she warned. “Follow God’s bidding.”

  He pulled h
is arm from her grasp, his expression suddenly guarded. “What if God wants me to be friends with her?”

  “You owe Sarah more than that,” she said. She might not like the circumstances by which Jonah and Sarah came together, but the Bible was clear: let no man put asunder what God hath put together. The two of them were married, forever. And he’d do best to remember it.

  “I’ve given Sarah my life, a house, and everything she could want to go in it. I can give April my friendship.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

  Gertie watched him go, Matthew 6:24 ringing through her head. “No man can serve two masters.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sarah heard the tractor and moved away from the window. She hurriedly sat down on the couch, smoothing her hands over her prayer kapp and wayward hair, then pressed them against her apron. She didn’t want Jonah to know that she had been looking at the window watching for him to come home.

  But whether he saw her or not, she knew where he had been. Her cousin Libby had called over an hour ago to tell her that Mandy Burkholder had driven past the Gas and Go and seen Jonah talking to an English woman in a small blue car.

  That was all she needed to know. He had said he was going to the hardware store, and instead he’d gone into town to meet April. And she had no idea how to handle it. What did English women do when their husbands went out with other women? Was she supposed to get angry? Well, she was angry, but was she supposed to let him know how badly he had hurt her? Or was she supposed to act like nothing happened? If that was the case, maybe she should lock herself in her room.

  Too late.

  The front door opened, and Jonah stepped into the house. He took off his coat and hat before giving a start. Evidently he hadn’t seen her sitting on the sofa. Or maybe he just hadn’t expected her to be there.

  “Sarah.”

  “Hi, Jonah. Get everything you needed at the hardware store?”

  He nodded, but kept his gaze locked on the far window in the living room. “I’m going to start the bookcase after Christmas.” He seemed so honest and sincere, and yet she knew he was standing there lying about where he had been. He might have stopped by the hardware store to say he’d done it, but it wasn’t the only place he’d been.