Marrying Jonah Read online

  He shot her a look, but she wasn’t giving in without a fight.

  “I can move in with Prudy. Or maybe there’s an empty bedroom now that Aaron is gone.”

  “My parents . . .” Jonah shook his head. “I don’t think they would understand.”

  Sarah was about to tell him that she really didn’t care what his parents thought, but even inside her head, the words sounded harsh and mean.

  “And do you really want everyone in the house to know that . . . that . . .” He stopped as the words failed him. But he didn’t need to finish. She knew what he was going to say. Did she really want everyone in the house to know that they weren’t even sleeping in the same room? With them sharing space, even if they weren’t sharing a bed, at least they could pretend and everyone would have to go along with them.

  But where they were sleeping was another matter they hadn’t discussed.

  “Are you saying we’re going to sleep on the two beds?”

  A dark red flush started at his collar and worked its way up to his hairline. “We might need to push them together . . .”

  That was when she knew. He was as embarrassed as she was. The situation wasn’t any easier for him. Even though they were living in his home, even though he was staying on familiar ground, it wasn’t any easier for him. And the only way for them to get through this was together. Together meant compromise.

  Her resolve slipped even though her anger remained firmly in place. “Okay. Fine.” It was only for six months. After that they would either have their own house or move in with her parents. And once they were there, no one would be able to tell her she had to share a bedroom with her husband.

  * * *

  Jonah could see the exact moment when Sarah caved. Didn’t she understand? This was just as much for her as it was for him. She was only making it harder on the both of them.

  “Bathroom’s through there,” he said, pointing out to the hallway. It was directly across from his room . . . theirs.

  “Listen . . . I hate this as much as you do. But can you please, for the sake of peace, try not to disagree with everything I say?”

  She turned and eyed him coolly. What happened to the bumbling Sarah who was always underfoot? The Sarah who would do anything for a crumb of his attention? Where did this angry woman before him come from?

  “Okay, but you can’t spring things like this on me and expect me to just accept it like it’s nothing.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. Was that what he had done? Surprised her with their sleeping arrangements and then expected her to just accept it?

  This entire situation was beyond him. He had never experienced anything like this. How was he supposed to know what to do?

  “Maybe we should set a few ground rules.”

  She nodded, her expression clearly relaying that she thought it was the first intelligent thing he had said all day. “Jah. That would be good.”

  The sound of a tractor engine floated in through the open screened window.

  She stopped, her gaze snagging his.

  “I guess everybody’s home now.” He sent her an apologetic look, then started for the stairs. He could hear her behind him, her lighter footsteps on the wooden staircase.

  Buddy was the first one inside, practically sliding on the floor as he hustled in, then came to an abrupt stop. He grinned as he spotted Jonah. “So you’re a married man now.”

  Jonah dipped his chin. “Jah.”

  “Do you feel different?”

  “No.” Jonah didn’t have to think about it. Of course he felt different. The entire situation was uncomfortable and strange and completely out of his control. But he couldn’t tell Buddy that.

  Sarah frowned but didn’t say anything, and for that he was grateful. Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he’d just hurt her in some way.

  Jonathan was in next, followed by his mamm and dat. Most likely, Prudy had stayed outside to play with the new kittens in the barn. His baby sister seemed oblivious to the special events of the day.

  “Well now,” his mother started. She folded her arms around her ample middle and looked from one of them to the other. “Did you get all settled in?”

  “Jah, danki.” Sarah’s words were barely above a whisper, but she lifted her chin as if in defiance.

  Jonah wasn’t sure where her spunk came from, but she definitely had it. Had she just developed it, or had it been there all along and he just never noticed?

  “Gut, gut,” his mother said.

  He knew that his parents were about as happy concerning this marriage as he was. His mother was just making the best of the situation. What more could they do but accept and go on?

  “We were just on our way to take a walk,” Jonah said. It was almost the truth. How many lies was he going to tell before this was all said and done?

  Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Newlyweds.” He laughed and moved to the refrigerator to get a drink.

  Jonah grabbed Sarah’s hand and pulled her from the kitchen and out onto the back porch. But he didn’t stop there. He kept her hand in his and tugged her down the stairs behind him. Her hand felt warm and solid in his. And it hit him that this was the first time they had held hands. They were having a baby together, yet he had never walked with her hand in his.

  But he and Sarah never had many interactions until that night. The next few months would be filled with a whole bunch of firsts. He might as well get used to it now. That and the feel of her hand in his.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he continued across the yard.

  “The barn,” he replied. “We’ll have a little privacy there.” He could feel his family’s eyes on him as he led her across the yard.

  One of the horses nickered as he stepped inside.

  Sarah followed him. He sat down on a paint bucket while she leaned against the stack of hay in one corner.

  “Jonah,” Prudy cried, running up to him, carrying a small black kitten in the crook of her arm. “There you are.”

  He couldn’t stop the smile at the sight of his baby sister. “Here I am,” he said.

  She held the kitten out to him. “Look. I think he’s my favorite.”

  “Did you know the English believe that black cats are bad luck?” he asked.

  Prudy frowned and held the kitten closer to her. “How can anybody think that cat would be bad luck?”

  “That’s the English for you,” he replied.

  The hay under Sarah rustled as she shifted her position.

  “Prudy, can you take the kitty outside and play with him?”

  Prudy nodded, oblivious to his discomfort. But that was just her way. Aside from being only six, she was doted on by everyone in the Miller family. Jonah wasn’t sure what favor they were giving her by allowing her these freedoms, but it was a fact all the same.

  “Jah. Okay.” Still clutching the cat to her middle, Prudy made her way out of the barn.

  “I’m sorry about getting us into this.” Sarah’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  Jonah jerked his gaze to her. Was she serious? “I hardly think you can take all the blame.” There. He’d said it. It was as much his fault as Sarah’s. Maybe even more so.

  “I think your family might disagree.”

  Jonah shook his head. “This isn’t about my family anymore.” Wasn’t supposed to be. They had done what was dictated for them to do. They were members of the church. They had served their excommunication. They had gotten married. They had made it right. As far as the Amish church was concerned, they were absolved. Now they just had to figure out how to get through the rest of their lives with each other.

  “What are we supposed to do?” Sarah asked.

  He didn’t have to ask. He knew what she was talking about. What were they supposed to do each day, every day, pretending to be married? How did a person act once they were married? It would have been different if they were in love. But he wasn’t in love with Sarah. There was a time when he thought she was in love with him,
but he wasn’t so sure about that anymore either.

  “We just do it,” he said. It sounded incredibly simple and yet so complicated. Just do it. “Tomorrow I’ll go out with my dat and harvest the rest of the corn. You’ll stay here and do laundry and such. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

  “I guess.” Sarah looked up from picking a spot on her pristine white apron. “Is this even going to work?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” His voice cracked on that last word. He cleared his throat, wondering why suddenly he was so choked up. “It will if we make it that way.”

  “Make it that way,” she echoed, her voice just a mumble in the air between them. She seemed to think about it a moment, then gave a small nod. “Jah, I guess so.”

  “I know so.” He smiled with a confidence she didn’t reflect. What choice did they have other than to make it work? Amish divorce was as rare as hen’s teeth. They could move into separate houses and live apart, but what kind of life was that?

  “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

  That crystal-blue gaze jerked to his. “You are?”

  “I handled that night . . . badly.” It was an understatement, only a fraction of the truth. “I took advantage of your feelings for me.” He shook his head and stared at the ground for a moment before finally meeting her gaze once again. “I only pulled over to give you a ride home and . . .” He spread his hands, an expressive gesture that said nothing at all.

  “Maybe if I hadn’t been so angry with Sam Troyer.” She gave a one-shoulder shrug.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have invited you to the pond to talk.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted.”

  But she had been so easy to talk to that night. She had told him all the things he wanted to hear and things that were true about him and Lorie.

  As much as he hated to admit it even now, Lorie had been slipping away from him for years. Finding out that her father was English and that he had left a mother and another life behind only pushed her further away. It was only a hop, skip, and a jump from finding an English family to falling in love with another man. An English man.

  Jonah still couldn’t get his mind wrapped around it. Lorie was gone. Married to another. It still hurt to think about it, but each day that pain got a little smaller. Maybe one day soon it would disappear altogether. But until then he had a wife to care for, a marriage to build. Even if it wasn’t based on love. “Can we just try?” he asked.

  Her eyes searched his face looking for something, he didn’t know what. Deception? Insincerity? Or maybe a weakness she could exploit?

  He shook the thought away. If there was one thing he knew about Sarah Yoder, it was that she was a sweet and caring person. He might not be in love with her, but he could have chosen much worse.

  “Marriage?” she asked. “Do we have a choice?”

  “Yes. We can choose to get along and work at this.”

  She sighed. “You’re right.” All the starch went out of her shoulders. “It’s just so . . . hard.”

  They were married. It was beyond unfair. Yet again the whole situation had been increasingly unfair to the both of them. What was that his dad had always said? Fairs were where you got cotton candy. It was time both of them realized it.

  He swallowed hard. She looked so sad and vulnerable when she wasn’t fighting him with every breath. He wasn’t sure he could handle that any better than her animosity. “I know. And . . . I’m sorry.”

  “You are?”

  “I’m sorry we ended up in this place, and I’m sorry that this wasn’t what either of us had planned. But the bishop is right. The rest of our story depends on us. We can make it happy or not. Our choice.”

  “My mother,” she said.

  “What?” Just when he thought he was making progress . . .

  “My mother was the one who said that. Not the bishop.”

  He nodded. “Whoever said it, it’s true. So are you with me?” He stood and reached a hand toward her. As far as offerings went, he couldn’t say it was much of one, but it was all he had for now. The promise to work on their marriage, give happiness a try and see where it might lead them.

  She looked at his hand for what seemed like forever, then she pushed off the hay bale and wrapped her fingers in his.

  Her blue eyes held a glimmer of a smile and his heart gave a small thump of hope. Surely if they just tried, they could make everything right again. Surely they could find their own piece of happiness.

  * * *

  Supper was an awkward affair. Only Buddy and Prudy acted as if everything were normal, as if having a stranger at the table wasn’t strange at all.

  Then again, was Sarah really a stranger? He looked across the table at his wife. How long had he known her? Years. More years than he could remember. And yet what did he know about her? He knew that once upon a time she fancied herself in love with him, and that her hair was the color of the finest dark chocolate he had ever seen. Her eyes were the clear blue of the sky just above the tree line, and when she laughed the sound was clear and true like a bubbling brook.

  But he hadn’t heard her laugh in a long time. Not since that night down by the pond.

  He pulled that thought in before it started chasing around his head like a runaway horse. That night was the last thing he wanted to think about. It represented all of his failures and all of his shortcomings. And now he only wanted to look to his future.

  His wife.

  How had it come to this, truly? And what were they going to do about it?

  They had made their pact in the barn, but a pact and a promise didn’t get them through each day. Now they were sitting across from each other at the supper table for the very first time. And later they would go up to his room and go to bed, for the very first time. He didn’t know how to act. He didn’t know what to say. If she had been Lorie—

  She’s not Lorie.

  She was nothing like Lorie, and though he had long ago forgiven her, Lorie had deceived him. She told him lies about where she was going and who she was meeting. She hadn’t even told him about her secret paintings. Only after she had run away to the English world had he learned of her love for art, of her doubts about joining the church, and that she had never felt a part of their community. Or maybe he had just never asked.

  How was he supposed to know? He didn’t know any more about the wife sitting across from him than he did the girl he loved for so long. How did he make it different this time? He wasn’t sure he knew how. But he had to try. It was his life now, like it or not. And he only had one choice: make the best of it or not. If he chose not, everyone would be miserable. No, the best thing was make the best of it every day, and with any luck what Sarah’s mom said would be true for them—that love would come—but he wasn’t holding his breath.

  * * *

  Sarah waited until Jonah went into the bathroom upstairs before rushing into their room and shutting the door behind her. She had just a few minutes to change into her nightgown before her husband came back into the room. What an odd thing to think, yet there it was. She wanted to be changed and completely covered up once again before he came back in.

  She hurried as best she could, though her fingers grew clumsy in her haste. Knots became impossible to untie and pins grew stubborn. Finally, with her heart beating in her throat, she pulled her nightgown over her head. She threw back the covers on the bed next to the door and tucked them around her legs as she started to unpin her hair. A soft knock sounded on the door, then Jonah let himself in.

  She didn’t know why he’d knocked, especially since he walked in right after, but she was grateful for the warning all the same.

  She worked her hands free from her hair and undid the ponytail, allowing the dark tresses to fall across her shoulders. Her hair grew fast, and now it almost reached the back of her knees. Unlike a lot of Amish women, she trimmed the ends simply because it made it easier to put up in a bob. She’d never told anybody her secret, not even Annie, who was so flighty she didn
’t notice anyway.

  Jonah stopped in his tracks watching her as she took a brush to her dark hair. She saw him, although she wasn’t looking directly at him. She was doing everything in her power to ignore the situation, that they were sharing a room. Again, how different would this be if they had been in love? But they weren’t in love. They hadn’t shared hopes and dreams, just one night beside the pond where they had let themselves go and surrendered to a power they hadn’t known existed.

  He just stood there. She raised her gaze to his. His expression was blank, though he swallowed hard and moved farther into the room, and the spell was broken.

  Sarah ducked her head, continuing to brush her hair as she watched Jonah roam about the room. He’d changed into a pair of pants for sleeping and a T-shirt. He looked cool and casual and handsome, of course. And intimate. She’d never seen him in anything less. She’d better get used to it. Tonight might be their first night married, but it wasn’t going to be their last. Every night they would be sharing a room—

  She cleared her throat and set the brush to one side. Jonah whirled around. At the startled look on his face, she had to believe he was as uncomfortable and jumpy as she was. Sarah could only hope that would ease with time. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life feeling the way she did right then.

  She gathered her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled it across her shoulder, plaiting as she went. Her hair had a tendency to curl, and there were a few snarls already making their way through the strands. But she managed to get it braided enough to keep it out of her face while she slept.

  “Your hair is long,” Jonah said.

  She grabbed the ponytail holder from the nightstand and wrapped it around the end. “It grows fast.”

  She wasn’t sure what was dumber, his question or her response.

  Lord, get me through this.

  “I don’t have an alarm clock,” Jonah said. He moved toward the bed and she was thankful to see that he got underneath the covers still fully clothed. She averted her gaze to nothing in particular. Just away from him.

  “So we don’t have to get up at any particular time in the morning?” she asked.