Chapter Twenty-One
The large auction house was filled by men seated on the benches, most wearing tattered straw hats and a few with a young child seated next to them. A few women were gathered at the back of the room, talking among themselves, as they clearly had no interest in the actual auction. Belle, however, was fascinated.
The benches were tiered and surrounded an open sand arena where a young Amish man ran beside a horse. Two other Amish men stood on either side of the arena, staring into the crowd as another man, the auctioneer, spoke rapidly into a microphone. Belle could hardly understand what the man was saying, for he spoke so fast in a singsong manner that not one word seemed intelligible to her.
“What’s happening?” she whispered to Adam.
He motioned to two empty seats in the second row. “I’ll explain it when we sit down.”
She nodded and followed him, too aware that people were doing double takes as Adam passed before them.
The auction house was outside Liberty Village, and most of the faces were those of strangers. She recognized only one or two people, and even with those she could not place their names, for they were not from Echo Creek. How Adam could ignore the intrusive stares was beyond her. She felt her pulse quicken and her palms sweat, wishing fervently that she might have the strength to say something to them.
But she didn’t.
Once they were seated, Belle sat as close to Adam as possible, not wanting to have to talk to any of those other people. She even reached out to touch his arm as if silently signaling to any curious onlookers that she was, indeed, his wife. “So tell me now. Please.”
He glanced down at her, and she thought she saw him hiding a smile. “So curious.”
Unable to contain her excitement, she practically bounced in her seat as she clung to his arm. “I am! Explain everything to me!”
He almost laughed, and even though he did not, she liked the way his eyes lit up at her enthusiasm. “Now, Belle,” he started and just those two words sent a warm feeling throughout her body. “It’s very simple.” He pointed to the area where the horse was being paraded before the onlookers. “That horse is up for auction. See the number in white on its rump?”
She hadn’t noticed that before Adam pointed it out.
“And anyone in the audience who would like to bid on the horse raises the white card with the bidders’ assigned number.” He showed Belle the card that was tucked into the white document that listed all of the horses that were to be auctioned that day. “Most people have already walked through the back where the horses are kept so that they can see which horses suit their fancy and can ask questions prior to the horse being auctioned.”
Belle glanced toward the one end of the arena and saw two other horses with Amish handlers waiting for their turn. “Back there?” She pointed in that direction.
He nodded. “Ja, that’s right.”
“Well, how do the men know what they are bidding?”
Adam chuckled and gave a little shake of his head, clearly amused. “The auctioneer,” he said and pointed to the rapidly speaking man with the microphone, “is requesting bids in increments. He starts high, perhaps a hundred dollars, and then when his voice slows, he lowers the number to, say, fifty or twenty-five.”
She gasped and looked at the auctioneer. “People can actually understand him?”
Smiling, Adam covered her hand, which was still tucked near his elbow, with his. “Ah, Belle, you’re rather charming,” he said lightly. “Ja, people can understand him, and you will, too, if you listen hard enough. Those other two men monitor the crowds to see who raises their card.” He waited until one of the men pointed to a man in the audience. “See? That man just bid on the horse, so the monitor pointed to him.”
Everything happened so fast that Belle could hardly follow the card raising, the pointing, and the rambling of the auctioneer. She sat back, staring at everything and watching, enjoying the entire experience. One horse was “sold to 186” and was walked out of the arena as another horse was walked in.
For the next half hour, Belle was transfixed, watching the activity. She almost forgot that, besides her and Adam, other people were there. By the time the seventh horse had been auctioned, Adam shifted his weight and leaned over. “Reckon I could use some water. Would you like something to drink?”
She nodded, and when he stood up, she followed him.
They made their way to the refreshment stand at the back of the building. A few people stared at Adam, but Belle was beginning to find it easier to simply ignore the curious onlookers. However, as they stood in line, waiting for their turn, one man stopped beside Adam.
“Hershberger, right?”
Adam moved his head so that the brim of his hat shielded his face. “Ja?”
“John Eck. ’Member me?” The man reached out his hand for Adam to shake. Belle noticed that Adam eyed the man suspiciously, clearly not remembering who he was, but eventually accepting the handshake. “So how’s that horse and buggy you bought the other week?”
Adam stiffened and withdrew his hand as Belle looked at him questioningly.
“That was you, ja?” John said, obviously recognizing Adam’s face. “That bay Standardbred? And the new buggy? That was a great deal. Why, you practically stole those from me!” But the man laughed good-naturedly. “Hope that horse is serving you well.”
Seeing that Adam looked discomfited, Belle spoke up. “Ja, indeed. The horse is wunderbarr.” She smiled at the man. “My husband purchased them for my daed, who recently lost both his horse and buggy.” Her statement was a guess—a stab in the dark, since she’d never seen the new horse and buggy—but someone had to say something. And Adam clearly was not in the mood.
John raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say? Ach, I’m sure he was most appreciative.”
With the smile still on her face, Belle nodded. “For sure and certain.”
After the man parted from their company, Belle did not look at Adam. Instead, she stood by his side and stared straight ahead. What was the meaning of this? she wondered. Why would Adam take such a pointed interest in bestowing gifts upon her father when he had only just begun to show any type of husbandly interest in her? And why had the bishop agreed to such a thing? It was unlike him to bestow such a gift on her father, claiming it was from the community when, in fact, it was from Adam.
Her thoughts seemed to run in different directions. The community. Yes, she should have known right away when her sister informed her that the bishop had taken a collection from the community. The people in Echo Creek were not that philanthropic. These were the same people who laughed at her father’s inventions. Even the shopkeepers in town wouldn’t help him promote his new grill. So why had she so easily believed that they would pool enough money to purchase something as grand as a new (and beautiful!) horse and buggy for him?
It wasn’t until they sat back down in a new section of the arena that Adam spoke.
“I hadn’t wanted anyone to know.”
“Obviously,” Belle replied. She toyed with the water bottle in her hands. “However, what is not obvious is why.” She turned her face and looked at him, her eyes searching his. It took her a minute to realize that, as she looked at him, she saw none of his scars. Instead, she saw only the beauty of his heart shining through every ounce of his being. For the first time, she realized that Adam was a beautiful man, more handsome than any other she had ever met. “Why would you hide something like that?”
“It’s complicated . . .”
Belle shook her head. “Nee, it’s not complicated. It’s humble, and I find that very attractive, Adam.” She graced him with a soft, compassionate smile. “Still, why you would let the entire community think that they contributed?”
He sighed and stared straight ahead as though he were watching the current horse being auctioned. “The bishop. He did take up a collection. Only . . .” He paused and pressed his lips together. She thought she saw tension in his jawline. “No one contributed.”
Belle gasped. “No one?”
“Not one person.” He said each word in a short, clipped manner.
Immediately, Belle felt a wave of dismay at the magnitude of what Adam was saying. How could a community be so heartless? And then she thought back to that day at the store when Linda and her two daughters had peered out the front door of the Troyers’ store, trying to catch a glimpse of Adam driving by. She remembered their heartless words and lack of compassion for the man she now called her husband. Another memory came to mind: Gabriel trying to convince her that she did not need to fulfill her promise to marry Adam. And, of course, the horrified response of the people in her church district when Adam and Belle’s wedding banns had been announced. Belle realized that the real question was not how the community could be so heartless, but how she could have not seen the truth of who they were.