The Amish Widow's Secret. Cheryl Williford
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a chat while I get these lieblings ready for bed?”
Beatrice splashed more water. Mercy cried out and reached for Sarah. Grabbing a clean washcloth from the side of the tub, Sarah wiped water from the baby’s eyes. “You have to be careful, Beatrice.” She held on to the baby’s arm and turned to reach for a towel. Mose had left the room silently. She thought back to what she had said and hoped he hadn’t felt dismissed.
* * *
The girls finally asleep and her father in his room with the door closed, Sarah dried the last of the dishes and put them away. Looking for a cool breeze, she stepped out the back door and sat on the wooden steps. Her long, plain dress covered her legs to her ankles.
Fireflies flickered in the air, their tiny glow appearing and disappearing. She took in a long, relaxing breath and smelled honeysuckle on the breeze. Somewhere an insect began its lovesick song. Sarah lifted her voice in praise to the Lord, the old Amish song reminding her how much Gott once had loved her.
“Dein heilig statthond sie zerstort, dein Atler umbgegraben Darzu auch dein knecht ermadt...”
No one except Marta knew how much she’d hated Gott when Joseph had first died. She’d railed at Him, her loss too great to bear. But then she’d remembered the gas light in the barn and how she’d left it on for the old mother cat giving birth to fuzzy balls of damp fluff. She’d sealed Joseph’s fate by leaving that light burning. When she woke suddenly in the night, she’d heard her husband’s screams of agony as he tried to get out of the burning barn. Her own hands had been scorched as she’d fought to get to him. She hadn’t been able reach him and she’d given up. She’d failed him. He had died a horrible death. Her beloved Joseph had died, they’d said, of smoke inhalation, his body just bones and ashes inside his closed casket. She stopped singing and put her head down to weep.
“Something wrong, or are you just tired?” Mose spoke from a porch chair behind her.
With only the light coming through the kitchen window, Sarah turned. She strained to see Mose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there.” She wiped the tears off her face and moved to stand.
“Nee. Don’t go, please. I want to talk to you about Beatrice, if that’s all right.”
Sarah prepared herself for his disapproval. She’d heard it before from other men in the community when she’d broken Ordnung willfully. The Bishop especially seemed hard on her. She sat, waited.
Mose cleared his throat and began to talk. “I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your taking such good care of my girls. They haven’t been this happy in a long time, not even with their grandmammi.”
Sarah touched the cross hanging under the scoop of her dress, the only thing she had left from her mother. If her father knew she had the chain and cross, he would destroy them. “I did nothing special, Mose. I treated the kinder like my mother treated me. Your girls are delightful, and I enjoy having them here. They make my life easier.” She clamped her mouth shut. She’d said too much. Plain people didn’t talk about their problems and she had to keep reminding herself to be silent about the pain.
“Well, I think it’s wunderbaar you were able to reach Beatrice. I’ve been very concerned about her, and now I can rest easy. She has someone to talk to who understands loss.”
Understands? Oh, I understand. The child hurt physically, as if someone had cut off an arm or leg and left her to die of pain. “I’m glad I was able to help.” She rose. “Now, I need to prepare for breakfast. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for both of us. There is food to cook, a barn to haul away.”
“Wait, before you go. I have an important question to ask you.”
Sarah nodded her head and sat back down.
“I stayed up until late last night, thinking about your situation and mine. I prayed and prayed, and Gott kept pushing this thought at me.” He took a deep breath. “I wonder, would you consider becoming my frau?”
Sarah held up her hand as if to stop his words. “I...”
“Nee, wait. Before you speak, let me explain.” Mose took another deep breath and began. “I know you still love Joseph and probably always will, just as I still love my Greta. But I have kinder who need a mother to guide and love them. Now that Joseph’s gone and your daed insists the farm is to be sold, you’ll need a place to call home, people who care about you, a family. We can join forces and help each other.” He saw panic form in her eyes. “Wait. Let me finish, please. It would only be a marriage of convenience, with no strings attached. I would love you as a sister and you would be under my protection. The girls need a loving mother and you’ve already proven you can be that. What do you say, Sarah Nolt. Will you be my wife?”
Sarah sat silently in the chair, her face turned away. She turned back toward Mose and looked into his eyes. “You’d do this for me? But...you don’t know me.”
“I’d do this for us,” Mose corrected and smiled.
The tips of Sarah’s fingers nervously pleated and unpleated a scrap of her skirt. “We hardly know each other. You must realize I’ll never love you the way you deserve.”
“I know how much Joseph meant to you. He was like a bruder to me. You’d have to take second place in my heart, too. Greta will always be my one and only love.” Mose watched her nervous fingers work the material, knowing this conversation was causing her more stress. He waited.
She glanced at him. “I’d want the kinder to think we married for love. I hope they can grow to respect me as their parent. I know it won’t be the same deep love they had for their mamm. I’ll do everything I can to help them remember her.”
“I’m sure they’ll grow to love you. In fact, I think they already do.” Mose fumbled for words, feeling young and awkward, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He’d never thought he’d get married again, but Gott seemed to be in this and his kinder needed Sarah. She needed them. If she said no to his proposal he’d have to persuade her, but he had no idea how he’d manage it. She was proud and headstrong.
“What would people think? They will say I took advantage of your good nature.”
Mose smiled. “So, let them talk. They’d be wrong and we’d know it. I want this marriage for both of us, for the kinder. We can’t let others decide what is best for our lives. I believe this marriage is Gott’s plan for us.”
Sarah’s face cleared and she seemed to come to a decision. She smoothed out the fabric of her skirt and tidied her hair, then finally took Mose’s outstretched hand with a smile. “You’re right. This is our life. I accept your proposal, Mose Fischer. I will be your frau and your kinder’s mother.”
Sarah paused for a moment, then spoke. “Being your wife brings obligations. I expect you to honor my grief until such a time I can become your wife in both name and deed, as a good man deserves.” She looked him in the eye, seeking understanding. He deserved a woman’s love and she had none to give him right now.
Mose smiled and nodded, gave her a hand up and stepped back. “I wish there was something I could do to help you in your grief.”
Sarah didn’t know what to say. Few people had offered her a word of sympathy when she’d lost Joseph. They’d felt she’d caused his death. “I’m fine, really. I just need time.” She lied because if she said anything else, she would be crying in this stranger’s arms.
“Time does help, Sarah. Time and staying busy.”
She could feel his gaze on her. She hid every ache and hardened her heart. This was the Amish way. “Ya, time and work. Everyone tells me this.”
“Take your time, grieve.” He murmured the words soft and slow.
Her heart in shreds, she would not talk of grief with him,