The Amish Marriage Bargain. Marie E. Bast
face him. “You know you’ll need to hire a nanny?”
He took another bite of pork chop, then nodded.
May glared at him. Nineteen months ago, Thad had brought May home from singings, and April rode with his bruder Alvin. Her sister must have loved Alvin. They had both been baptized, joined the church and their banns were set to be read on the next Church Sunday. Six weeks after Alvin’s death from his buggy accident, April and Thad wed.
Thad cleared his throat. Deep lines creased his forehead just under a dark brown swatch of hair that had fallen forward. He raised his head and locked eyes with hers. His mouth twisted into a weak smile, the edges nervously twitching. “Would you...consider postponing your plan to move to Indiana? I hate to ask this, but I’d appreciate it if you would stay on a little while longer and watch Leah.”
“What?” A tear pressed at the corner of her eye. “You’re joking, right?”
“The farm’s income has declined by almost 35 percent this past year with the problem The Amish Dairy Association has been having with the USDA and its inspection agencies. Small farmers are losing money by the day trying to compete with the big dairy producers out west when they violate the organic rules and overproduce.” His voice quaked. “The inspection agencies have been lax in suspending violators and writing citations for fines. I can’t afford a full-time nanny right now with a mortgage, and Mamm’s arthritic hips won’t allow her to chase a one-year-old all day.”
May drew a deep breath, holding it deep in her chest before blowing it out. “The longer I postpone the move, the harder it will be on Leah.” And me.
“Look, May, I’m in dire straits here... I could lose the farm.”
Contempt for him boiled her blood. “You mean my mamm and daed’s farm that you inherited from my sister. It’s been in our family for 170 years.” She spit out the words as if they were wrapped with barbed wire.
“Small dairy farmers are being driven out of business all over the Midwest.” He let his gaze drop, then raised his eyes to meet her glare. “I’d really appreciate it if you could stay a while longer.”
May fisted her hands. Her world was tumbling, as if a spool of thread dropped to the floor, unraveling before her eyes.
She heaved a sigh but caught the look of pleading cross his face, then vanish in a heartbeat. “I’ll think about it.”
Thad nodded, scooted his chair away from the table, snatched his straw hat from the peg on the wall, plopped it on and headed outside.
May clutched her chest while pain arrowed through her. Why had she told him she’d think about it? She had thought about it, and the time was right to move.
She dropped her fork and covered her face with her hands. Nein. Nein. Nein.
April’s words whirled through her head. “I’m dying, sister. Promise me you’ll take care of Leah and Thad.”
“Nein, April, I can’t do that. Not after what Thad did...”
“I feel the life draining from me. You must do it, May, please! Forgive me. Thad and I never meant to hurt you. Things just happen.” April exhaled a long breath and closed her eyes. Her hand fell limp.
May steered her mind back to the present.
Why had she made that promise?
A blast of evening air squeezed through the screen in the door and circulated around the room, giving it a fresh scent. While Leah played on the floor with her blocks, May stowed her decision for now, washed the dishes and straightened the kitchen.
When Leah started to fuss and rub her eyes, May snatched her up and snuggled her close. “I won’t be able to do this much longer if I decide to go, little one.” She kissed Leah’s sweet little head when she laid it against her shoulder, almost falling asleep. “Nein, let’s get you bathed and settled in bed.”
After putting the child to sleep, May closed Leah’s door with Thad’s request still whirling in her head. How could she stay here? He was certainly insensitive to her need. Her fingers twitched with the impulse to start packing now. She’d never be able to sleep. Tiptoeing quietly down the hall, she headed to her sewing room.
Sewing always calmed her nerves.
She grabbed her basket of long strips of cloth she’d torn from old clothes and started sewing them together to make rag rugs. She finished connecting the last strips together, then glanced at the battery clock. Ach. Midnight. After tidying the sewing room, she trudged down the hall to her room and collapsed on her bed.
She rubbed her hand over her quilt. The softness of the cottton reminded her of Leah when she was born. Her sweet boppli softness, and even then, she was as lovely as April with dark blue eyes like Thad’s. She’d hated her sister for stealing Thad from her, but how could she stay angry when April was dead? She would have been so proud of her tochter.
Oh, April, you were so careless in caring for yourself and letting the diabetes get out of control, like it had with Mamm.
May pressed her hand over her eyes to blot out all the ugliness she’d silently heaped upon April.
Lord, please forgive me for my sins. It was sisterly rivalry, or maybe jealousy that I coveted what she had. April always got what she wanted, and I got her hand-me-downs. Thad had a right to choose, and he chose April. I can’t even tell her I’m sorry. Your scripture says I must forgive, but it’s hard to forget the trespass. Help me to learn.
A deep yawn coaxed her out of her shoes. She removed her prayer kapp, letting her long auburn hair cascade over her shoulders. After putting on her nightgown, she burrowed under the covers, drowsiness tugging at her eyes.
She loved Leah so much, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity that Aent Edna offered. Could she? A once-in-a-lifetime offer?
Could she pass it up to help Thad? For the sake of the farm?
But Edna’s offer was a vote to move.
The next morning, sunshine poured in between the curtains and roused May from sleep. She glanced at the clock. Ach, 7:00 a.m. The thought of Thad waiting in the kitchen hungry pushed the cloudiness from her head. A gut Amish woman always saw to it that the men had a nourishing meal before they started their workday.
Although Daed assured May she could stay in the haus until she married, it was uncomfortable living with Thad. That was another vote in favor of moving.
She dressed and hurried downstairs. When she entered the kitchen, the aroma of strong coffee assaulted her nose. Thad stood over the stove, bacon in one pan and French toast in another. Her eyes roamed from the stove to Leah in her high chair, smiling as she ate scrambled eggs. She held her little hand out and offered May a gob of egg.
“Danki, lieb, but you eat it.” She turned to Thad. “I’m so sorry I overslept. I don’t know what got into me.” Something she never wanted to have to do...apologize to Thad Hochstetler.
He turned and swept his arm in the direction of the table. “Sit. Your breakfast awaits you, Miss Bender.”
He was being nice, too nice. Now what did he want?
Thad smiled. “I noticed you worked late in your sewing room. We’re a family and that means we help each other out. Occasionally, we forget to set our alarms. No harm done. Sit. Breakfast is ready.” He placed the platter on the table and sat.
After silent prayer, May dribbled syrup on her French toast and took a bite.
He scooted a slice onto his plate and ladled strawberries over top. “Mmm, your garden strawberries are gut. I picked them fresh this morning.”
May