Fern bit her lip. Dear Anna.
“We got here last night.” Reuben stirred the stew, and the smell wafted from the steaming pot and made Fern’s mouth water. She’d eat every bite, even if it was Reuben who had warmed it up for her.
He steeped the tea and brought a cup to the table. “Chamomile. It will help you relax.” He watched as she drank it, as if to make sure she didn’t secretly pour it out while he wasn’t looking. He didn’t need to worry. Fern would have finished off a pot of Anna’s turpentine-flavored kaffee just for the warmth of it. He dished up some stew, set it in front of her, and sat down at the head of the table next to Fern. There was only a sharp table corner separating them. He leaned toward her as if to supervise her eating.
And he did. With a mixture of painful emotions in his eyes, he watched her put every spoonful in her mouth. She didn’t want to try to guess what Reuben was thinking. The answers held no happiness for her. She wished he weren’t so close.
She finished every last bite, and the warmth of the stew gave her new energy. She still ached to take a nap, but she thought she might be able to walk upstairs to her bedroom without fainting.
“Feel better?” Reuben said.
Not really, but at least she felt full. She wouldn’t feel better for a very long time.
“I have a present for you.”
Ach. She hated that he was being so concerned. So nice. It only made her love him more when she wanted to hate him. Hating Reuben would have made things so much easier. It was why Reuben had insisted on hating John and Linda Sue. Hate was so much easier than love.
When she didn’t reply or even seem interested, he got up from the table and disappeared down the hall. He came back with at least a dozen grocery sacks looped over his arms. “Before I left Bonduel, I went to Clara and Carolyn’s and bought everything they had in the shop. Clara was ecstatic, but Carolyn was annoyed that they’d have nothing for other customers. But she was willing when I told her it was all for you.” He placed the bags on the table and eagerly started emptying them. He pulled out everything from peanut-butter-chocolate drops to divinity, white-chocolate-macadamia-nut clusters, pecan turtles, peanut brittle to coconut haystacks.
Fern had never seen so much candy. She felt physically ill. Why couldn’t Reuben have walked away instead of carrying her into the house? Why couldn’t he have left the candy at Clara and Carolyn’s shop instead of spending way too much money to bring it to Sugarcreek? If he wanted to be rid of her, why didn’t he try to make her hate him?
He opened a tub of peanut-butter-chocolate drops and held it out to her. “Want one?”
She shook her head.
Reuben stumbled back to his chair, sitting down as if he was too weak to stand. “I hoped it might help.” He searched her face as he reached over and laid his hand on top of hers. Her fingertips tingled. “I went to the Schmuckers’ house to see you on Monday morning first thing,” he said, so softly she had to strain to hear him. “I saw where you’d been sleeping.”
She drew her hand from his as the ache in her heart threatened to escape. Clamping her mouth shut, she looked away from him, taking deep breaths until the need to cry subsided. How repulsive he must find her. Not only did she clean toilets, she slept in a barn and took a shower with a hose. It was ridiculous that it mattered to her, but to her sorrow, she knew that it mattered very much. Why, oh why, didn’t he go away and leave her in her misery?
Something raw and painful flashed in his eyes. “I should have known about the barn.”
She pressed her stinging palms to her forehead. “Then you would have avoided me from the very beginning.”
He flinched as if she’d spit at him. “Avoid you? Fern, I would have taken you away from there and put you up at my mammi’s house. You would have had a warm place to sleep and as much raisin corn casserole as you could eat.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I would have taken you to Burger King every day.”
“Why?” The word forced its way out of her mouth before she could pull it back. It came out more like a sob than a question. “Why do you care, Reuben? I am nothing to you, except a stumbling block.”
“That’s not true.”
She stood up so fast, her chair clattered to the floor behind her. The room tilted a little to her left, but she took a deep breath and righted it once more. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, Reuben. You don’t have to try to make it up to me because you feel guilty that you’re rich. I release you of any sense of responsibility you have toward me and my family. I forgive you for everything, and you don’t have to feel obligated to come here ever again.”
“I don’t feel obligated.”
“Guilty, disgusted, repulsed. Whatever it is you feel, you can just stop it. I won’t let you torture me like this.”
Reuben acted as if she had slapped him in the face. “Fern, please listen to me. I’m so sorry.”
Even knowing how likely she was to faint before she even made it across the kitchen, Fern turned on her heels and stormed out the back door, slamming it behind her as she went. What did Reuben want from her? Hadn’t he been telling her for months to leave him alone? Now, when she was finally ready to do what he wanted, he wouldn’t go away.
Was he trying to get in good with John now that John was marrying the bishop’s daughter? Did he want to make Fern sorry for ruining his chances in Bonduel? Did he want to gloat over the fact that he was still as rich and handsome as ever, and she was still a pig farmer’s daughter? She’d lived in a barn for three months and cleaned toilets for a living. Reuben had plenty to feel smug about.
How much more of her pain did he want?
She heard the back door open as she stormed across the lawn. Of course he would follow her. He’d followed her all the way from Bonduel.
If she wanted to get rid of him, she’d have to go to the one place he wouldn’t follow. She walked through the gate, into one of the hog lots, and ducked under one of the shelters Dat had constructed for the hogs. It was basically four posts holding up a piece of wood for shade and rain protection. The hogs were in the far corner of the pasture, so she had the whole thing to herself. She sat down in the straw and leaned against one of the posts so she wouldn’t faint. Fainting was becoming a very bad habit.
She’d get a little peace here until Reuben got sick of waiting and went home. And then she’d avoid him like the plague for the rest of her life. Maybe she’d go back to Bonduel. Anna and Felty would probably take her in, or she could always live in the Schmuckers’ barn. Anything was better than the torture of seeing Reuben in Sugarcreek.
“Fern, please can I talk to you?” Reuben didn’t even hesitate to sit right next to her in the straw.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and turned her face from him. “Please, Reuben. Please just go.” She sounded so weak. So defeated. One more thing for Reuben to gloat over.
Reuben braced his arms on his knees, bowed his head, and closed his eyes, as if he had spent all his strength coming from the house. “Fern, please forgive me,” he whispered.
“I forgive you. Please go away.”
He lifted his head and reached out his hand as if he were going to smooth one of her curls around his finger like he used to do. She raised her hand and leaned away from him. Her heart was broken. She wasn’t going to let him grind the pieces into dust.
“Please, Fern,” he said. “Please don’t shrink from me. I can’t bear it.”
Ach! She hated that she loved him too much to ever refuse anything he asked for. She turned her face to him and held perfectly still as he tenderly smoothed the back of his hand down her cheek. She closed her eyes. His touch felt like heaven and perdition at the same time. “I made you feel so low, when in truth, you are everything to me. How can I make you understand?”
Even though she wanted to burst into tears, she didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not, Fern. I have never been more serious or more desperate in my life. I ignored
you and excluded you and thought I would be better off with Sadie Yoder. I’ve been proud and stubborn and resentful, and I didn’t see what was right in front of my face. I’ve made enough stupid mistakes to fill a warehouse. It’s no wonder you don’t believe a word I say.”
She tried to breathe with an anvil pressing against her chest. “I told you already. I forgive you.”
He took her hand in his, and she didn’t have the strength to pull away. “I’ve asked your dat if I can work here and prove myself to you, no matter how long it takes.”
Fern attempted a flippant smile. “Work on a pig farm? Why?”
“Don’t you see? I’m so, so sorry. Sorry for everything I said. Sorry for how I acted and how ugly I’ve become.” He ran his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. She nearly lost her composure. “Fern, I love you. Please tell me it’s not too late.”
His declaration knocked the wind out of her. “You love me?”
He nodded, searching her face with those aggravatingly blue eyes.
“That’s impossible, Reuben. That’s impossible.” She wanted to believe him. Ached to believe him. “I’m a nobody. You can’t love a nobody.” Her fragile control shattered, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. It did no good. The sobs rolled from her throat like waves on a stormy lake.
Reuben scooted closer and drew her firmly into his arms. He held on tight even though she made a weak attempt to push him away. He was so much stronger, and she was in desperate need of sleep. Any ounce of pride she still possessed evaporated with her happiness. “This is a cruel joke to play on a girl who has loved you for as long as I can remember.”
His arms tightened around her. “You love me?”
“Go ahead and rub it in my face. I don’t care anymore, just so long as you leave me alone.”
He nudged her away and grasped her upper arms. The look in his eyes could have set her on fire. “My driver broke the speed limit all the way to Sugarcreek because I couldn’t stand the thought of not being with you, of you not knowing how I felt. I said some terrible things to you, things born of anger, things I didn’t mean. You lived in a barn and practically starved so that you could stay in Bonduel and reclaim me. Me. I didn’t deserve any of it, but you did it anyway. You’ve got to believe me, Fern. I love you. I want to marry you.”
How could it be true? Yet how could it not be true? Why would he tell such a lie?
“Why?”
“Because you are the most wunderbarr girl in the world. Tell me I haven’t wasted my chances with you.”
“I’m a pig farmer’s daughter.”
“I love that you are a pig farmer’s daughter.”
“I used to sleep in a barn and clean gas station toilets.”
He reached up and curled an errant lock of her hair around his finger. Her whole body tingled. “I’ve slept in a barn too. And I am the best toilet cleaner in Sugarcreek.”
She held her breath as her heart beat a wild cadence. Reuben was telling the truth. She could see it in the deep, icy blue of his eyes. She thought she might faint. A grin crept onto her lips as a breathless, joyful intoxication washed over her, filling her to overflowing. There wasn’t room enough to contain her sudden happiness. “I am the best toilet cleaner in Sugarcreek.”
“You’re better than me at everything.”
Before she could argue, he was kissing her—her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips, which had never been kissed before. He clung to her with the ferocity of newfound hope. His touch felt like a rainstorm after a long drought. A ribbon of warmth slid down her spine and radiated out through her fingers and toes. Who needed Sausage McMuffins or peanut-butter-chocolate drops? She could live off Reuben Helmuth’s kisses forever.
A drop of water caressed her cheek, and she reluctantly pulled away from him. His eyes glistened with tears as he cupped her face in his hands. “Could you ever love someone as ill-tempered and proud as me?”
“I think you’ve lost your mind,” she said, her voice shaking like a match in the wind.
“Could you love me anyway?”
“With all my heart.”
He groaned and covered his face with his hands as great, shuddering sobs wracked his body.
“Hush. Hush,” she said, stroking her hand up and down his arm. “All is well.”
“I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.”
“You’ll have to,” she said, with a mischievous grin on her lips. “You know how persnickety I am about forgiveness.”
“I know how persnickety you are about everything. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
“A peanut-butter-chocolate drop will make you feel better. I have a whole bag full in the kitchen if you’d like to come in. I’m willing to share.”
He smiled his most dazzling smile. “I hear they’re delicious.”
“You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted them.”
“I haven’t lived at all until today. I love you, Fern King.”
He was sitting on a pile of straw on the ground in a hog lot with manure sticking to his boots. How could she not adore him? “And I love you, Reuben Helmuth. With all my heart.”
He kissed her again, and she could have flown to Bonduel and back in an instant. It would have been a much more pleasant trip than the bus.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Anna sat back in her chair and sighed. She never got tired of seeing two young people aptly matched and happily married. Matchmaking was more fun than cooking, crocheting, and knitting put together. “Just look at the groom, Felty. Have you ever seen a wider smile?”
“Only on myself the day I married you, Annie.”
“Now, Felty,” Anna said. Felty was not only the handsomest man in Bonduel, he was also the world’s biggest tease. “I don’t think you got a look at yourself on our wedding day.”
“But my lips ached for weeks from smiling so much.”
The wedding had been lovely. The bishop had talked and talked and then the minister had talked and talked, but that was just the way things went at an Amish wedding. The elders must have taken satisfaction in torturing the to-be-marrieds, sermonizing for nearly three hours before letting the poor couple take vows. Of course, the bishop might feel cheated if he couldn’t deliver a sermon at a wedding. Better to let the poor man have his time in the sun. Everyone wanted to feel useful.
Anna was glad she didn’t have to give sermons. She was useful enough already, knitting pot holders for the needy of Bonduel and making matches for her grandchildren.
The bride’s fater was handing out green pens with the bride’s and groom’s names on them, and Felty was just finishing his last bite of wedding cake. The wedding supper had been extravagant. They’d served two different kinds of chicken, celery and corn-bread stuffing, layered Jell-O, and four different kinds of vegetables. Little cakes had served as centerpieces that the guests cut right at the table. Both families had been waiting a long time for this wedding. They were definitely making the most of it.
Anna’s heart nearly burst when she glanced over at Reuben and Fern, who were visiting with the happy couple. Well, Dorothy, Reuben, and Fern were visiting. Melvin, the bridegroom, had a smile anchored to his face, but he wasn’t saying much. Dorothy never seemed to mind that Melvin seldom said a word.
Reuben and Fern and Fern’s brother John had arrived last night in a van of wedding guests. Reuben and John had slept in their barn, and Fern had slept in the guest room. Felty said Reuben enjoyed sleeping in the barn, though Anna couldn’t begin to guess why. She always preferred a comfy bed for her creaky joints.
Reuben and Fern strolled toward Anna and Felty and sat down in the empty seats opposite them at the table. Anna felt that special glow in the pit of her stomach that only came when she’d made a successful match. Fern and Reuben were definitely a match. Reuben couldn’t take his eyes off Fern, as if every good thing lived in her eyes. Fern blushed and grinned and shone like a new penny.
Anna had known they wer
e meant for each other the minute Fern came squeaking up Huckleberry Hill on Wally Schmucker’s rusty bicycle. Fern was spunky enough to keep Reuben guessing, and Reuben was affectionate enough to keep Fern loving him.
“Dorothy and Melvin make a wonderful-nice couple, ain’t not?” Reuben said, smiling at Fern as if she were the only girl in the world.
“They found New Hampshire yesterday,” Felty said. “They couldn’t be happier.”
It would be a blessed marriage. They would never run out of license plates.
Reuben nodded at Fern, who glowed so bright, Anna thought she might need to put on her sunglasses. “Mammi and Dawdi, we have something to tell you.”
Anna’s heart beat faster, even though she knew exactly what they were going to tell her. It was still exciting news. She couldn’t help herself. “You’re going to be married.”
Reuben laughed, and Fern’s smile got wider and brighter. Anna would definitely need those sunglasses. And some sunscreen. “Jah, Mammi,” Reuben said. “Come September.”
Anna clapped her hands and then thought better of it and folded them quietly in her lap. She shouldn’t draw attention if Reuben and Fern wanted to keep their engagement a secret.
“I am the happiest girl in the world,” Fern said.
Smiling like a swimmer on a hot day, Felty reached across the table and clasped Reuben’s wrist. “And you did it without license plates.”
“Fern has kindly agreed to put up with me for the rest of her life,” Reuben said.
Fern giggled. “He promised me chocolate for my trouble.”
“He’s getting the better end of the bargain,” Felty said.
“Don’t I know it,” Reuben said. “I feel like I’m going to burst.”