May rolled her eyes at her sweet and funny friend. “Again, you’re guy crazy. The scary thing is, I’ve never been to Shipshewana, and I have no idea if I will like Indiana.”
“You know you could always come back later, if you weren’t happy there. I’ll pray for you, May, but here is something else to consider. Your sister, Sadie, is pregnant with twins. I heard she was looking for a mother’s helper, so you could go live with her. She’ll soon have five kinner all under the age of five. Oh, but you’ll have to share a room with Sadie’s oldest, your niece Isabelle. What do you say? Think about it. I’m sure Sadie would liebe to see you come and stay.”
May laughed. “I’m glad you stopped by. You certainly cheered me up.” She gave Janie a one-armed hug.
“If you move, can I have Thad?” Janie’s eyes widened almost as much as her smile.
May ignored the question. “If I go to Aent Edna’s, I’ll be working in a bakery for the rest of my life. That is, unless I find someone in Indiana to marry. Or I could stay here with this little bundle of joy that I liebe like a heartbeat.” She gave Leah a jiggle up and down and listened to her musical giggle. “No more tears when you’re with aentie, huh? I’ve prayed, but Gott has been silent so far.”
“Jah, He might want you to search your heart, May, or He might want to see if you’ll reason it out and make a practical decision. Here’s another offer—come and live with us. Mamm would liebe another pair of hands to help out around the haus.”
Footsteps echoed in the hall followed by a knock on the door. “May? I need to talk to you for a second.” Thad’s voice cracked.
Janie put a hand on May’s shoulder. “I need to go, but if you want to talk later, stop by the haus. I’ll see you on Church Sunday.”
May opened the door and her friend slipped out, waving as she flew down the hallway. “Sorry, Thad, you’re probably starved since our lunch got spoiled with talking. I can warm lunch back up.”
“Nein, that’s not why I’m here. The bishop is downstairs waiting to see you.”
May’s heart dropped to her stomach. “What?”
“Jah, I’ll just take Leah and walk over to the dawdi haus. Give you some privacy.”
May made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. The bishop sat at the kitchen table but nodded when she entered.
“Hullo, May. I’d like a minute of your time, if you’re not too busy.” The bishop casually sipped a mug of coffee that smelled as if Thad had warmed the leftover brew from lunch.
“Bishop, what can I do for you?” She sat, rested her elbows on the table and clasped her hands.
He shot her a stern look. “I drove out to see which day next week I should clear in my schedule for your wedding.”
Thad’s heart felt stretched, as if he wore it on the soles of his shoes and he was walking on it. If May decided to move to Indiana, what would he do without her? He and Leah would both miss her.
May loved Leah and he hoped enough to stay and marry him. If they married, he’d shower her with so much happiness, she’d have no choice but to fall in liebe with him again.
But if May ever found out the real reason why he married April, she would hate him.
A lump rose in his throat. What if May decided to move away, and he never saw her again? She was the only woman he wanted.
He glanced at the clock. One hour past the last time he looked. What was the bishop saying that it was taking so long?
Ethan entered the barn, letting the door bang as he walked toward Thad. “I’ll start the evening milking, Mr. Hochstetler.”
Thad nodded. “Gut. I’ll help, and you can follow me.” Jah, he needed to concentrate on something to keep his mind off May. He applied the iodine mixture to the cows’ udders while Ethan followed along behind with the alcohol wipe. Ethan was a gut bu and a hard worker. Thad appreciated the loyalty the young man gave him.
He finished his barn chores, stepped out of the barn and noticed the bishop’s buggy still parked in his drive. He heaved a long sigh. It was not a gut sign that the bishop was still talking to May. That could only mean one thing—May said no and the bishop was trying to talk her into marrying him.
When the screen door banged closed, Thad gave a grunt and walked toward the bishop’s buggy. His heart pounded like a blacksmith’s hammer with every step.
The bishop met him at his buggy wearing a long face. Then he smiled at Thad. “Jah, she will marry you in two weeks. Since you have been married before, and her mamm and daed have passed away, she wants just a small gathering instead of inviting the whole community. Until then, you will sleep in the dawdi haus. I’ll read the banns on Sunday.”
After the bishop left, he felt numb. This seemed too gut to be true. He inched his way to the haus, pulled the screen door open, entered the kitchen and stopped cold. May was standing at the sink, her back toward him. He gawked at her, unsure what to say. Should he wait for her to speak first? His gut clenched as he pulled a chair away from the table and sat.
Though it was summer outside, a coolness filled the distance between them. Was she going to back out?
Had she truly forgiven him?
The minute she turned from the sink, his heart raced, and his tongue felt like a piece of toast. He stood up, his knees shaking, when she approached the table.
“Hullo.”
He nodded and smiled.
May motioned for him to sit. She sat across from him, laid her hands in her lap and straightened her back. “Were you surprised to hear the news from the bishop?”
“Jah, but gut surprised.” He dropped his gaze to his hands folded on the table and studied them. Each callus, each skinned knuckle and each chipped nail had a story. He raised his eyes to hers. “I have just one question. Your answer won’t stop the wedding, but I want to know...are you marrying me because you have forgiven me, or because you liebe Leah too much to leave her?” He held his breath for a second before blowing it out.
May glanced at the window, then returned her gaze to him. Her demeanor seemed more businesslike than happy that she’d just accepted a marriage proposal.
His pulse quickened. Something wasn’t right. Had the bishop threatened a shunning or something if she didn’t marry him?
He bit his lip and braced for the worst.
Silence stretched across the room. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart. It just occurred to him...he might not like what she was going to say.
Dampness beaded his brow.
May’s heart nearly stuttered to a stop. “Thad...” She kept her gaze on her hands, then lifted her eyes to meet his. “I’m not going to lie to you or pretend this is something that it’s not. I’ll tell you the truth, and if you want to call off the wedding afterward, that’s fine. I’ll understand and move to Indiana.”
He shifted in his chair, and she noticed the moisture dotting his forehead. Maybe she should have made this easy and bought a train ticket to Shipshewana.
“Listen, Thad. April asked me to take care of you and Leah, but she didn’t tell me to marry you. Two things are keeping me in Iowa. I want