Their Surprise Amish Marriage Read online

  “Do you want to move?”

  “Oh, nee, we don’t need to move.” The beginnings of a smile touched Rachel’s face and her cheeks pinkened. “I think the crying has something to do with the boppeli.” She wrinkled her nose. “But, regarding the fear, I...I don’t think I’m ready to confront it yet. I still feel a bit foolish about it.”

  Ben’s heart rate sputtered. “You shouldn’t. We all have fears. Everyone is afraid of something. Even me.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe that. You? Mr. Hero? Who jumped into a frozen pond to rescue an Englisch boy who fell through the ice?”

  Ben’s lips twitched into a half grin. “I didn’t have enough time to think of being afraid then.”

  Rachel’s dark brown eyes teasingly narrowed under her delicate brows. “When you have time to think, what are you afraid of?”

  His smile evaporated. “Depends on the hour,” he joked.

  But he took a step back.

  His greatest fear was never far from his mind.

  I’m afraid you’ll never love me like you love my brother...

  Growing up on a farm, Jocelyn McClay enjoyed livestock and pursued a degree in agriculture. She met her husband while weight lifting in a small town—he “spotted” her. After thirty years in business management, they moved to an acreage in southeastern Missouri to be closer to family when their eldest of three daughters made them grandparents. When not writing, she keeps busy hiking, bike riding, gardening, knitting and substitute teaching.

  Books by Jocelyn McClay

  Love Inspired

  The Amish Bachelor’s Choice

  Amish Reckoning

  Her Forbidden Amish Love

  Their Surprise Amish Marriage

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  THEIR SURPRISE AMISH MARRIAGE

  Jocelyn McClay

  As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.

  —Psalm 103:12

  Always, I thank God for this opportunity.

  Kevin, there could never be a more amazing service-oriented hero. I’m glad you’re mine.

  Thanks to Dad, I was raised around cattle, although they were beef, not dairy.

  Thanks to two dairy-farming uncles who let me trail after them at milking time.

  Brother-in-law Craig, thanks for sharing your experience with broken ribs.

  Audra, I watched you handle a twin pregnancy with much mental, if not physical, grace. I watch you display the same grace as you parent my grandchildren, twins Eli and Amelia and older brother Judah, who bring me much joy.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from The Marine’s Mission by Deb Kastner

  Chapter One

  She had to tell him. Stealing a glance at the dark-haired man across the grove, Rachel Mast rested her hand against her stomach. She didn’t know if this bout of nausea was exacerbated by the thought of telling Benjamin, or just another round in the seemingly endless succession she’d had lately. In this case, it was most likely just the thought of talking to Ben. They hadn’t exchanged a word with each other since the day Aaron left. Since the day they’d... Swallowing against the prickling sensation at the back of her throat, Rachel pressed her hand more tightly against her stomach. She had to tell him.

  Mired in thought, she flinched when words were spoken just off her shoulder.

  “I’m so glad Ben came today. His appearances at these events have been about as rare as yours.” Rebecca’s comments told Rachel her younger sister’s attention was also on the man chatting with a young Amish woman while he tapped a spile into a maple several trees away.

  Turning her back on the couple, Rachel took the clean pail from Rebecca to hang its handle on the hook tacked via a spile to their tree. “We were both baptized into the church this fall. Maybe we’ve felt ending our rumspringa meant no longer attending the youngie gatherings.” Or maybe Ben felt the same guilt and shame she did. In the past six weeks, it’d been a race to see who’d depart a room the fastest when the other one appeared.

  “But neither of you are married.”

  Rachel felt the blood drain from her face. Rebecca’s mittened hand flew to her mouth. “I mean... I know you thought you’d be married to Aaron by now. I’m... I’m sorry I mentioned...” Reaching out, she touched Rachel’s shoulder before turning to hurry back to the sled, parked in the middle of the grove behind two winter-coated Belgian horses. Rachel knew Rebecca’s haste was more an embarrassed escape rather than a need to gather additional pails for the clusters of young people tapping the nearby maple trees for syrup.

  Upon reaching the sled, Rebecca anxiously glanced in her direction. Rachel sighed. She couldn’t blame her sister. Rachel had been counting down the days until her and Aaron’s wedding announcement could be made. All plans were in place for a customary late fall wedding. Until Aaron had been kicked by a horse on baptism Sunday, spending the morning at the hospital getting a complicated fracture set instead of becoming a member of the church along with Rachel.

  Although sorely disappointed, Rachel hadn’t despaired. Aaron would surely be baptized sometime after the Christmas season so they could be married. No one, least of all her, expected him to disappear into the Englisch world in January, a few days prior to doing so. And she couldn’t follow him—even if she knew where he went—as having been baptized, she’d be shunned if she left.

  Inconsolable, Ben—also stunned by his brother’s departure—had given her a ride home so they could commiserate in private. Rachel flushed as she recalled the shock and grief that had extended to comfort being sought. And offered. Which had led to...

  Sagging against the tree, Rachel warmed chilled hands on her now-heated cheeks as she watched the clear liquid spilling down the spile into the bucket, an indication the maple sap was indeed running. She wished everything were just as clear to her. How naive she’d been, when her life had seemed so simple a few months ago. Oh, Aaron, why did you leave? When are you coming back? Are you coming back?

  If Ben had heard from Aaron, surely he’d have told someone who would’ve mentioned it to her?

  Rachel pressed her fingers against her throbbing temples. Even though the late February afternoon was just above freezing, she began to perspire. “Be sure your sin will find you out.” Ach, the Old Testament verse was certainly true in this case. Rachel swallowed against another bout of nausea. Being sick in the snow would only raise questions she couldn’t answer. And she had enough of those herself. What would Ben say? Would he believe her? Would he ask her to marry him? What if he didn’t? What if she wed Ben and Aaron came back? Marriage was for life. Her nose prickled with the threat of tears. There seemed no good options.

  What if she waited, and didn’t marry, leaving her to face even more shame? And Aaron never returned? Pressing her cheek against the rough bark of the maple tree, Rachel panted shallowly, the crisp winter air a contrast to the bile at the back of her throat.

&nbs
p; She was running out of time. She had to tell Benjamin.

  * * *

  Benjamin Raber gently tapped the spile into the maple tree, listening—without hearing—to the constant chatter from the woman at his elbow. He was glad Lydia Troyer had clung to him like a cocklebur to a horse’s mane upon his arrival at the youngies outing. It kept him from talking with others. It helped keep his eyes from straying, like they did now to the tall brunette woman across the way, currently resting her head with its neatly pinned kapp against a tree.

  Frowning, Ben stilled his hands as his eyes narrowed. Was Rachel all right? He shifted his weight in her direction before, tightening his lips, Ben continued with his task. Rachel didn’t need his help. Not that she’d tell him either way. She was like a startled deer whenever she came in sight of him now, the way she’d jump and dash off. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say to her anyway. Lead congregated in his stomach. Or what he’d say to his brother if he ever saw him again.

  “Are you all right?”

  He blinked at Lydia’s question, having momentarily forgotten she was there.

  “Ja.” Ben redirected his hammer, glad he’d been tapping gently instead of swinging away when he hit his hand. Of course, a whack to the head might be just what he needed. Firming his jaw, he took the bucket from Lydia and set it on the hook. A whack to the head was surely what he’d needed weeks ago when a teary-eyed Rachel had curled against his chest and whispered, I’m so glad you’re here with me. Could you just hold me? Ben stared unseeing at the silver lid as he fastened it to the top of the spile. Of course he had. He’d dreamed of holding Rachel for years. When she’d looked up at him, it’d seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss her. And when she’d kissed him back...

  “Wait up!” He could hear Lydia crunching through the snow behind him as he stalked to the next tree. “I thought you said that tree was big enough to support another tap and bucket.”

  Ben grunted. “Sometimes just because something is possible, it doesn’t mean you should do it. It leads to...trouble.” Plucking the drill from where he hooked it on his belt, Ben placed it against the bark, angled up so when the sap flowed, it would drip down to the bucket.

  Lydia placed her mittened hand over Ben’s bare fingers. Furrowing his brow, he looked up to see her simpering smile at a very, very close distance.

  “I hope you don’t really feel that way. Because I’m hoping it’s possible you give me a ride home today.”

  Ben’s fingers flexed and the sound of the power drill cut into the crisp afternoon. Lydia jerked her hand and herself back. Thankful to have borrowed the drill from the furniture shop where he worked, Ben shifted his attention back to the tool in his hand. He sighed as he continued his task. He wished he had the glib tongue of his friend and former coworker, Samuel Schrock. Samuel would know how to flirt back. Or did before he was married. Ben’s brother, Aaron, also would’ve known how to respond. Only too well. Ben’s hands tightened. He winced when the drill bit cut farther into the maple than he’d intended. Carefully withdrawing it, he patted the tree, silently apologizing.

  Clearing wood shavings from the edge of the newly drilled hole, he gave Lydia what he hoped passed as a smile. “I need to get back home. Got to help with chores tonight.”

  He didn’t have to; it was the quickest excuse he could think of. But, having said it, it’s what he would do. That was the way Ben worked. His folks would surely be surprised to see him home early today, as he was only here this afternoon because his mother had basically kicked him out of the house. Things need to go back to some semblance of normal around here. We don’t know why Aaron left, when or even if he’s coming back. She’d pinned Benjamin with a look. I’m tired of you pacing around the house like a lonely goat when you’re not at work. Aaron is gone. That doesn’t change our lives. We have to go on.

  Ben’s younger siblings were attending the event, an activity planned when the late February weather finally warmed up enough during the day to prompt the sap to run. Ben had wanted to come, while simultaneously wanting to avoid it. The reason for his conflict was leaning against a tree several yards distant.

  Except that she wasn’t. Not anymore. A stolen glance revealed Rachel had straightened and was staring in his direction. Ben fumbled the spile and hook he was pulling from his pocket, almost dropping them into the snow. This was the first time she’d looked at him in weeks. Surprisingly, she held his gaze. He felt as frozen as the snowman some of the younger attendants had rolled up in the small clearing.

  Was she as embarrassed and ashamed as he was? Was she all right? Her face was almost as white as the snow layered on the branch of the tree above her head.

  “Are you ready for this yet?”

  Reluctantly, Ben turned to see Lydia holding up the bucket she carried. His gaze dropped to the recently bored hole. The one that held no hook or spile. The one obviously not ready for a pail. The only thing obviously ready was this woman for his attention. Lifting his eyes again to Lydia, he saw her gaze shift from his face to somewhere over his shoulder. In the direction where Rachel stood.

  “I wonder what Rachel is going to do now that Aaron left. I mean, everyone knew they were going to get married. The Masts’ garden was full of celery this summer, planning for a wedding. I heard she even had her blue dress made. If I were her, I’d feel rejected. No wonder she was crying her eyes out that day.”

  Ben carefully set the spile, with the hook behind it, at the edge of the new hole, his teeth gritted. Rigidly controlling his actions, he gently tapped it in. The one he wanted to reject was Lydia. But it wasn’t her fault. She’d just stated the obvious. He knew the pain Rachel had felt. Was surely still feeling. Pain he wanted to take away. His stomach soured at the knowledge that he’d made it worse by his actions in trying to do so.

  “Ready for the pail.”

  After Lydia hooked the bucket under the spile, Ben attached the lid that would keep precipitation or other debris out of the pail. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Rachel was still looking in his direction. Inhaling deeply, Benjamin warmed up his smile and turned to try it on Lydia.

  He injected fabricated enthusiasm into his voice. “Looks like we’ll need some more buckets. And I could certainly use a cup of the hot chocolate if they still have it.”

  The red-haired young woman’s immediate return smile dipped to a frown when she saw the congregation surrounding the sled and the thermoses brought along for the outing. “Be right back.”

  “Take your time,” Ben called as she tromped through the snow to join the growing line. After another considering look at Rachel, he started walking through the trees, away from the crowd, and at an angle that would converge with her. Should she decide to take a stroll. A sideways glance revealed she had. Ben’s heart rate accelerated. It was a struggle to prevent his pace from doing so, as well.

  Their paths intersected about thirty yards deeper into the trees. Here, oaks interspersed with the maples, creating a denser wood, and therefore a less attractive destination to any potential tappers. The snow was shallower. Ten pristine feet of it separated him from Rachel when they both slowed to a stop.

  It was the closest he’d been to her in almost two months. This girl, who unknowingly had been his secret childhood longing until she became his brother’s girlfriend. Their relationship, although stilted, had remained cordial. It’d had to. She was going to be his sister-in-law. Even though it tormented Ben to see her with his brother. And now they were...awkward. Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Ach, had they sabotaged their friendship beyond any salvaging?

  Frowning, Ben silently regarded Rachel. Framed by her pale face, her brown eyes, normally so lively, seemed bigger and darker above hollow-appearing cheeks. Her arms were crossed over her torso. If she hugged herself any tighter, she’d turn inside out.

  “Are you cold?” Ben crossed his own arms to keep from reaching out to comfort her. If she were loo
king for something like that, she wouldn’t have stopped ten feet away. Not that he would offer it again. Succumbing to the urge to give comfort had gotten them to this unhappy place.

  Rachel slid her arms down to her sides. “Nee.”

  They stared at each other across the snow for a few more moments.

  Ach, it’d been quite a long wait for those few important words. Ben grimaced and shifted his weight. There was so much he wanted to say to her. But where to start? Perhaps with the obvious, but not the one particular obvious he wanted to ask—are you all right after what we did? Perhaps he could leave it at are you all right? But even that currently sounded too personal.

  He settled for something that was surely on both their minds, “Have you heard from—” stopping when he heard her ask the same question.

  Her nee was a softer echo of her previous one. He shook his head at her hopeful gaze.

  Refolding her arms across her chest, Rachel looked down to where she was making semicircles with one foot in the snow in front of her. “Benjamin...”

  Ben crept a few steps closer in order to hear, her voice had dropped so low.

  “About that day...”

  He flushed with embarrassment. What about that day? Could they get past their shame and bear to be in the same room with each other once more? Had she decided she never wanted to see him again? That seemed more consistent with her actions the past several weeks. Ben braced himself for her next words. Whatever they might be, he would abide by them out of respect for her. He could see from Rachel’s expression that the unspoken words were difficult to share.

  Previously perspiring, now a chill prompted him to flip up the collar of his coat. Still, Rachel’s words were nothing like he’d expected.

  “I’m going to have a boppeli.”

  Chapter Two

  The blood drained from Ben’s face at a pace likely exceeding all the sap running from the recently tapped maples. Stumbling to a nearby oak, he braced an arm against the furrowed bark of its trunk. Of all the things he’d thought of that night, and he’d thought a lot, he hadn’t considered this. But he should have. He lived on a farm where managing livestock supported their livelihood.