An Amish Wedding (2 page)

K
ELLY
L
ONG

In Hebrew,
perfect
means “whole or complete.” It is God’s desire for our lives that we become perfect or whole in Him. He is slowly revealing His perfect secret for each of our lives.

Prologue

“T
HAT’S IT
? T
HAT’S MY WEDDING PROPOSAL
?” N
INETEEN
-year-old Rose Bender stared at her best friend in the waning light of the cool summer evening.

Luke Lantz’s dark blue eyes held steady as always. “
Ya
, what more do you expect?”

Rose half bounced in the buggy seat, trying not to let Luke’s typical calmness rile her into a temper that would match the unruly black curls tucked beneath her
kapp
. What more did she expect? It was a fair question.

She’d known Luke for all of her young life, and he was right—a marriage was something that would please both of their families and have the strong foundation of their friendship at its base. It would also unite two lands, the rich soil that ran parallel in property. And, perhaps most importantly, it would bring a woman’s touch to the motherless Lantz household. But it might have helped if Luke could have conjured up a few romantic words to add to the moment. Yet, at twenty-three, he was what he was: Placid. Faithful. Secure. And when Rose was with him, it was rather like skating on a pond that had been deep-frozen for months—no chance for a crack in the ice. Perfectly safe. Not that she should desire anything more.

“I accept,” she said with determination and not a little defiance. She wanted to silence the doubts that echoed inside—that suggested she knew him too well to have a romantic marriage. And the realistic fears that she could never live up to the legacy of domesticity and kindness his mother had left behind just two short years ago. She told herself that it had to be more than enough to fulfill the expectations of Luke’s father and her parents and to find a strong base in a wealth of memories—school days, sledding and ice-skating together, long walks and throwing horse chestnuts into the pond, and serious conversations about life—though not necessarily about love.

“
Gut
. I thank you, Rose. I believe, with
Derr Herr
’s blessing, that it will be a successful match.”

She nodded, then slid closer to his lean form, reaching to trail her fingers in the brown hair at the nape of his neck. She felt him tense, but she ignored it.

“Luke,” she whispered, “now that we’re engaged, maybe we could kiss a bit more?”

His strong jaw tightened, and he turned to peck neatly at her lips, moving away before she could even close her eyes. He disentangled her hand from his hair and gave it a cool squeeze, then picked up the reins. “We’d best move on,” he said. “It’s getting late.”

And that’s that
, she thought ruefully, comforting herself with the knowledge that he would be too dutiful to maintain such distance once the marriage ceremony was over. She stifled a sigh at the unusually irreverent thought and focused on the dim road ahead.

Chapter One

T
WO MONTHS LATER . . .

T
HE SUNLIGHT OF EARLY AUTUMN FILTERED THROUGH
the clear windowpanes and made passing shadows on the wide fir floor of the Bender farmhouse. The family was gathered for a hearty meal, and the
gut
smells of cooking mingled with robust conversation.

“I tell you that it’s downright odd, that’s what.” Rose’s father gestured with his fork to the lunch table at large. “Two of our hens—our best layers, mind you—a goat from the Lamberts’, and the sheets from old Esther Mast’s clothesline. All of it missing, and dozens of other things from the community over the past few months. I say there’s a thief hereabouts, and that’s the truth.”

Rose’s mother calmly passed the platter of sauerkraut and kielbasa to Rose’s two older brothers to take seconds. Then she offered the fresh platter of airy biscuits to
Aenti
Tabitha, Father’s sister, and nodded her head as her husband sputtered himself out.

“Maybe it’s a Robin Hood type of thief,”
Aenti
Tabitha ventured, her brown eyes shining. At fifty, she often seemed as young as a girl to Rose with all of her romantic ideas and flights of fancy. Yet her suggestion stilled Rose’s hand for a moment over the saltshaker. What would it be like to meet such a romantic figure of a man? Dark and mysterious in nature . . .

Abram Bender shook his head at
Aenti
Tabitha. “Tabby, you always have had a heart of gold—looking for the best in others. But Rob in the Hood, like the
Englisch
folktale? Taking from the rich to give to the poor? Who’s poor in our community? Don’t we all see to each other?
Nee
, this is just a thief, plain and simple. And I don’t like it one bit.”

“The weather’ll change over the next month or so,” Ben remarked over a forkful of boiled potatoes. “Any thief is likely to drop off in his ways once there’s snow on the ground to track him.”

“Or her,” Rose said, for some reason wanting to provoke.

“What?” her father asked.

“I said
her
. Your thief could be a female,
Daed
.” She didn’t really think the thief was female, yet she had a strange urge to enter the suggestion into her father’s mind.

Her
daed
gave a shout of laughter, then resumed eating. Ben turned to her with a smile while her other brother, James, just rolled his eyes.

“Rose, no woman in her right mind is going to go thieving about,”
Daed
said. “It’s a
gut
thing you’re marrying Luke come December. Maybe he’ll settle down some of your wild ideas.”

“Perhaps.” She smiled, her green eyes flashing heat for a brief second.

“Well,” Ben interjected, “Rose’s
narrisch
thoughts aside—there’s a storm due tonight, supposed to be a doozy.”

“
Ya
, I heard.” Father rose from the table and hitched up his suspenders. “Come on, boys. We’d best tighten down a few things.” He bent to pat
Mamm
’s shoulder. “
Danki
for lunch.” Then he pinched Rose’s cheek fondly. “And no more foolish thoughts from you, my miss. Remember, you’re to be a married woman soon.”

Rose didn’t respond. She toyed with her fork instead, making a mash of the potato as an idea began to take shape in her head.

A
S
R
OSE CLEARED THE LUNCH TABLE MECHANICALLY, SHE
avoided her
aenti
’s eagle eyes. Ever since she’d been little, she’d felt as though
Aenti
Tabby could see the subdued thoughts churning inside her head, and just for a moment she wanted to debate the merits of her plan undisturbed. Still, she knew the intent look on her aunt’s face and had to admit that the older woman’s intuition had fended off trouble for her many a time. But today—something was different. Today Rose
wanted
trouble. She drew a sharp breath at the hazardous thought, but the idea fit with her nature of late. It seemed as though her spirit had grown more restless, less satisfied with life, ever since she’d accepted Luke’s proposal. She’d tried to pray about it, stretching her feelings out before the Lord for guidance, but nothing had come to her.

Aenti
Tabby caught her eye in an unguarded moment as they washed and wiped the dishes. “I’d like to see you in my room, Rose, after we clean up a bit. If you don’t mind?”

“Um . . . sure,
Aenti
Tabby, but I have to hurry. I’m going to bake some pies this afternoon.”

“Bake? Pies?” Her aunt and
mamm
uttered the questions in unison, and Rose concentrated on dabbing at a nonexistent spot on a dish. The whole family knew that she was a hard worker, to be sure, but baking was not a skill that she possessed or an activity she particularly enjoyed.

“
Ya
.
”
She nodded vigorously, forcing a soft curl to spring loose from the back of her
kapp
. “I need to practice, you know? Luke likes a
gut
apple pie, or perhaps blueberry.” She stretched to put the plate away in the cupboard. “But I’ll be glad to come and talk with you before I start.”

A
UNT
T
ABBY, WHO HAD NEVER MARRIED, LIVED WITH THE
Benders and was a cherished part of the home and family. Rose and her brothers often sought the sanctuary of their aunt’s room for advice, comfort, or a smuggled sweet long after supper. But Rose knew that she had been distinctly absent lately from any visits with her beloved
aenti
and mentally prepared to face what might be some pointed, but truth-provoking, questions about herself and Luke.

Aunt Tabby sank down onto the comfortable maple bed with its patchwork quilt and patted a space next to her. “
Kumme
and sit, Rosie.”

Rose blew out a breath, then came forward to relax into the age-old comfort of the well-turned mattress. She half smiled at her
aenti
, remembering times she’d jumped on the same bed and had once taken a header that nearly landed her in the windowsill. But that was childhood past—long past, or so it seemed to her heart.

“I’ll not keep you long, Rose, but I want to ask—why did you agree to marry Luke?”

“What?”

The question was even more probing than she’d braced for, and a thousand answers swirled in her mind.

“Luke. Why did you accept his proposal?”

“Well . . . because he’s . . . we’re . . . we’ve always been best friends.”

Aunt Tabby frowned. “I’ve never married, child, but I do wonder if that is reason enough to build a life together.”

Rose said, “It’s made both of the families happy.”

“That’s true, but what about you? Are you happy?”

There was a long, disconsolate silence that wrung Rose’s heart as her aunt touched her shoulder.

“I’m supposed to be happy,” Rose said, thinking hard.

“
Ya
, that’s true.”

“I just—I expect too much, I guess. Like wanting some kind of—I don’t know.”

“Like wanting someone mysterious and romantic?”

Rose gazed in surprise at her
aenti
, who laughed out loud.

“I was young once too, and I think it’s perfectly normal to want more from a relationship than just friendship. But maybe—maybe there’s more to Luke Lantz than meets the eye. Have you thought of that?”

Rose shrugged as her aunt cleared her throat. “Luke’s father—well, we courted some. He was always shy, but then . . . well. He had it in him to do some fine kissing now and then.”

Rose stared at her
aenti’
s flushed face. “You and Matthew Lantz?
Aenti
Tabby—I never knew you dated him. Why didn’t you marry him?”

“It wasn’t what the Lord wanted for me.”

Rose marveled at the simple statement. She knew her people lived by the will of
Derr Herr
, but to give up a relationship because of faith was difficult for her to comprehend. She knew she had spiritual miles to go before she would make a decision like that.

“Haven’t you ever regretted it? Not even when—well, when Laura Lantz died of the influenza? You’re still young,
Aenti
Tabby. Maybe you and Mr. Lantz could—”

“Nee,”
the older woman gently contradicted. “I’ve never regretted it, not even when Laura died. In truth, I believe I would have regretted more if I had not obeyed what I felt was the Lord’s leading. And just think—had I married Matthew, there would be no Luke for you.”