the first time tonight, he would not have had the sanity to consider the consequences.
Never had he expected Scrapper Sara to have such an effect on him, but he should have. How could he have forgotten … the baths?
Sara surprised him by touching his hand, to indicate a footed plate of swirled yellow glass, bearing a cake with icing daffodils. The cake had been baked by Roman’s mother; the cake dish was the Bylers’ wedding gift.
As if he occupied the body of someone else, Adam stood and accepted Mrs. Byler’s good wishes for a long and fruitful marriage. Roman was taking her home now; his father had not been well enough to come and she was concerned. Roman would be back to continue his duties as groom’s attendant. Lizbeth would remain, as bride’s attendant, Roman said, in case Adam or Sara needed anything.
Adam noticed then that the married couples were leaving, while the young, unmarried members of the congregation were going out to the barn for a frolic. Lizbeth looked wistful and Adam was not surprised when Sara sent her outside with her friends. Sara always saw people’s needs, even those unspoken.
As bride and groom, he and Sara would not be able to leave until midnight at least. What was it now … nine, maybe ten o’clock? How many bridegrooms, he wondered, wanted to ambush a few energetic youngsters at about this time?
Just as well they had to stay. Tired was better than randy.
At nearly one in the morning, Adam and Sara, with Roman’s help—The English had long-since gone—gathered their girls from the beds upstairs and took them home.
“Most bridegrooms do not carry their sleeping children up to their beds on their wedding night,” Adam grumbled, for the sole purpose of lessening the constriction in his chest, and elsewhere, and of putting off the inevitable. But it was past time for honesty.
After the children were settled, Sara, his new wife, came back downstairs and stood in the middle of the kitchen, much as she had done on the night of his first wife’s death, an occasion he must remember now to remain strong. Sara even held the back of the same kitchen chair, though she had been less woman and more scrapper that night.
Wishing with all his heart that she were less of a woman now, Adam coughed and with a shaking hand, picked up the lantern in the middle of the big oak table. Here, use this to light your way upstairs. I don’t need to see to find my room.
He wished he hadn’t watched her so closely, because when she paled, something sharp stabbed him in the region of his missing heart.
“But I thought….”
“What?” he said, turning toward his room, showing her his back.
“Tonight, you said ... Today when ... when we….”
Adam turned. Much as he dreaded the prospect of looking into her soulful eyes, he owed her the courtesy of plain speaking. “I am sorry Sara. That was a mistake.”
“No, Adam. I thought it was ... that we were so—”
“Foolish. Foolish, we were ... I was. This is a marriage to satisfy the Elders. We married in name only to fulfill the ordnung. Do not make more of it than it is.”
Sara’s back stiffened and before his eyes the woman who’d melted in his arms turned into a scrapper again. And though he could see pain hovering just beyond her anger, she made a good show of strength. “You don’t need anyone, do you Adam Zuckerman? Too strong for such nonsense, right? Well, I’ll tell you what I think, big, mean, scary man. I think you’re afraid. Afraid of a woman. Of me. That’s what I think.”
She almost lost it then, Adam saw, and prayed she would not. Scrapper Sara damn near cried as she turned and made for the stairs.
If she only knew that big, bad, Mad Adam Zuckerman wanted to howl louder than she did.
Chapter 7
Too bossy to bed.
The litany ran through Sara’s head as she climbed the stairs. It continued as she slipped off her married apron and wedding dress to reveal the breasts her husband had awakened, aching even now
Never had he expected Scrapper Sara to have such an effect on him, but he should have. How could he have forgotten … the baths?
Sara surprised him by touching his hand, to indicate a footed plate of swirled yellow glass, bearing a cake with icing daffodils. The cake had been baked by Roman’s mother; the cake dish was the Bylers’ wedding gift.
As if he occupied the body of someone else, Adam stood and accepted Mrs. Byler’s good wishes for a long and fruitful marriage. Roman was taking her home now; his father had not been well enough to come and she was concerned. Roman would be back to continue his duties as groom’s attendant. Lizbeth would remain, as bride’s attendant, Roman said, in case Adam or Sara needed anything.
Adam noticed then that the married couples were leaving, while the young, unmarried members of the congregation were going out to the barn for a frolic. Lizbeth looked wistful and Adam was not surprised when Sara sent her outside with her friends. Sara always saw people’s needs, even those unspoken.
As bride and groom, he and Sara would not be able to leave until midnight at least. What was it now … nine, maybe ten o’clock? How many bridegrooms, he wondered, wanted to ambush a few energetic youngsters at about this time?
Just as well they had to stay. Tired was better than randy.
At nearly one in the morning, Adam and Sara, with Roman’s help—The English had long-since gone—gathered their girls from the beds upstairs and took them home.
“Most bridegrooms do not carry their sleeping children up to their beds on their wedding night,” Adam grumbled, for the sole purpose of lessening the constriction in his chest, and elsewhere, and of putting off the inevitable. But it was past time for honesty.
After the children were settled, Sara, his new wife, came back downstairs and stood in the middle of the kitchen, much as she had done on the night of his first wife’s death, an occasion he must remember now to remain strong. Sara even held the back of the same kitchen chair, though she had been less woman and more scrapper that night.
Wishing with all his heart that she were less of a woman now, Adam coughed and with a shaking hand, picked up the lantern in the middle of the big oak table. Here, use this to light your way upstairs. I don’t need to see to find my room.
He wished he hadn’t watched her so closely, because when she paled, something sharp stabbed him in the region of his missing heart.
“But I thought….”
“What?” he said, turning toward his room, showing her his back.
“Tonight, you said ... Today when ... when we….”
Adam turned. Much as he dreaded the prospect of looking into her soulful eyes, he owed her the courtesy of plain speaking. “I am sorry Sara. That was a mistake.”
“No, Adam. I thought it was ... that we were so—”
“Foolish. Foolish, we were ... I was. This is a marriage to satisfy the Elders. We married in name only to fulfill the ordnung. Do not make more of it than it is.”
Sara’s back stiffened and before his eyes the woman who’d melted in his arms turned into a scrapper again. And though he could see pain hovering just beyond her anger, she made a good show of strength. “You don’t need anyone, do you Adam Zuckerman? Too strong for such nonsense, right? Well, I’ll tell you what I think, big, mean, scary man. I think you’re afraid. Afraid of a woman. Of me. That’s what I think.”
She almost lost it then, Adam saw, and prayed she would not. Scrapper Sara damn near cried as she turned and made for the stairs.
If she only knew that big, bad, Mad Adam Zuckerman wanted to howl louder than she did.
Chapter 7
Too bossy to bed.
The litany ran through Sara’s head as she climbed the stairs. It continued as she slipped off her married apron and wedding dress to reveal the breasts her husband had awakened, aching even now
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