Never could she have imagined he’d say those words to her, never at all—‘selecting a bride.’ They were never in her dreams. Her help with selecting a bride? But, she was sitting right in front of him. It didn’t make sense. She could only utter … “Wh … what?”
He repeated his earlier words. “I value your opinion. I need your help with choosing a bride.”
Her heart sank even further, and she tried not to let it show on her face. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” One thing she was pretty sure of—he didn’t want to marry her.
He breathed out heavily and moved further back into the couch. “I’ve come to the age where I need to give marriage consideration. Nee. That’s wrong. It’s hard to talk about this.” He coughed as though he was embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “You can tell me anything.”
“I know, that’s why you’re here. I’m not giving marriage consideration. I’ve decided to do it. I need your help in selecting a bride. I want to be married by this Christmas. I’ve set myself a task, a goal.”
A task? This time she couldn’t help frowning. His approach to love and marriage seemed so cold. If he didn’t want her, then didn’t he know who he wanted? She wished he’d never brought her here. “Oh, I wish you’d told me all this before I got here.” Jane had no interest in helping him choose her replacement.
“I’m sorry but it’s something I didn’t feel comfortable putting in a letter.”
She stared at his handsome face. Was all hope for her gone? “How do you think I can go about selecting you a bride?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s all a bit strange. I haven’t been here for years and I don’t know the women here all that well.”
“I haven’t explained things properly. There are five women. Two I like and three who are clearly … well, they’ve expressed an interest in …”
“I see.” She nibbled on a fingernail and stared at the striped rug on the floor. Why didn’t it occur to him that she might be an option? Was she that awful, that ugly, that abhorrent?
“I’m sorry. I know it’s weird,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you. I just really want your help. I value your opinion so much and you know me better than anyone.” He took hold of her hand. “Jane, I know I’m asking a lot, but would you do it for me?”
She stared into his dark eyes and couldn’t refuse him. After a huge gulp swallowing all her hopes and dreams, she could only nod. What else was she to do?
His face lit up. “You will?”
“Jah, I’ll do it.” She blinked back her tears, refusing to be embarrassed.
“Denke, Jane. This process will be so much easier with you helping. It’s time I married. I’ve left it far too long.”
She forced herself to remain calm. All she wanted to do was burst into tears and get on the first Greyhound back to Ohio. “How am I to do this? Do I choose someone for you and you’ll go along with whomever I name?”
“Nee. I want you to get to know these women and give me your recommendation. Of course, they’ll know nothing of this. You’ll be my friend who’s visiting.”
Once more, she looked at the striped rug and the lines moved turning into zigzags. She inhaled deeply and looked back at him. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“I’ll forever be grateful. My mudder is so happy you’re staying with her. You’ve always gotten along with her.”
“Who wouldn’t? She’s lovely and she’s always so happy.”
He grimaced. “She talks a lot and some people can’t take that.”
“Hmm, she doesn’t seem to talk too much. I don’t think so. Anyway, do I know any of the candidates?”
His forehead furrowed. “Candidates?”
“Your possible future brides.”
“Ah, I see. Well, you know Abigail Fisher.”
There were many Fisher families in the community. The only Abigail Fisher she knew was only a young girl when she’d left for Ohio. “Rebecca and Stephen’s dochder?”
“That’s the one.”
“Isn’t she too young?”
“She’s old enough.”
Jane added up the years. Abigail was twenty one. “She’s eleven years younger, as far as my math skills tell me, or even more.”
“She’s delightful. She makes me feel a certain way that no other woman has made me feel.”
Maybe that was where she’d gone wrong. She had always been too much of a friend and that was why there was never any room for romance. Abigail had always been a pretty girl—honey colored skin, big brown eyes, and golden spirals of hair that sometimes managed to escape her prayer kapp. She would’ve grown into a beautiful woman. “And the second front runner?”
“Marcy Bright.”
“I don’t think I know anyone by that name.”
“You don’t. She moved here last year with her family. She’s Abigail’s cousin, closer to us in age.”
Jane didn’t feel any better with that news. If she was Abigail’s cousin, she might be just as pretty. What chance did she have? “They’re cousins? Keeping it in the family?”
“Not really. I’ll only be choosing one of them.”
“I know that. I meant … I don’t know what I meant. Don’t worry.”
“Shall I tell you about the other three?”
Jane couldn’t take anymore. “Some other time. Could you take me back to your mudder’s? I feel a headache coming on.”
He leaned over and touched her arm. “Are you ill?”
“Jah. I will be okay if I can lie down. I’ve never been a good traveler and the trip took a lot out of me.”
He stood up and held her hand until she stood. Then, he guided her out of the house with his hand on her arm. “I’m so selfish, Jane. I’ve been so excited about you helping me with this I haven’t considered your feelings.”
It didn’t matter what her feelings were. If he had any notion of her being his bride, he never would have chosen her for this task. “I’m happy to help if that’s what you want.” They continued walking toward the buggy and when they climbed in, Jane said, “I can stay as long as you want.”
“Excellent because I’d like to be married by Christmas.” He gave her a beaming smile and then took hold of the reins.
She wished he’d stop talking about marriage. All she wanted to do was cry. There was no other man for her, only him. Trying to keep it together, Jane pressed a fingernail into the palm of her hand. It hurt, and she was sure she was drawing blood, but it helped to stop the tears that were threatening.
Going along with her claim of a headache, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. It hadn’t been a lie about the headache. Now she was feeling an ache in her head for real.
“We’re here, Jane,” he whispered about fifteen minutes later.
She opened her eyes to see they were back at Sadie’s house. “I’ll have a lie down and I’m sure I’ll feel a lot better.”
“I’m coming for dinner tonight. I hope you’ll be better by then.”
Why was Gott torturing her? This was cruel. “I’m sure I will. You’re not coming in now?”
“Too much to do today.”
“I see. Just as long as you don’t find a sixth contestant. Five is enough, I’d say.”
He laughed. “I agree. Five is quite enough.”
She stepped down from the buggy. “Bye, Matt.”
“I’ll come in with you.”
She frowned. He’d just said he had too much to do. “Nee. I’ll be okay. You go and do what you have to do.”
“Bye, Jane. Have a good rest and I hope your headache’s better soon. I can see you at dinner. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“That’s right. You’ve been keeping many things from me.”
He smiled at her. “And denke for saying yes to this. It means such a lot.”
“Of course.”
“Mamm knows nothing of this yet.”
“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”
As Jane walked toward the house, she saw the door swing open.
“That was fast.” Sadie looked between Jane and the horse and buggy moving away.
“It was. I need a lie down if that’s all right. I have a headache.”
A pained expression took over Sadie’s face. “Oh, Jane dear. That’s awful. Do you get these often?” She raced to put her arm around Jane's shoulder and moved her into the house.
“Nee, I don’t. It’s just all that traveling from yesterday, I guess.”
Sadie walked her into the bedroom and they both saw Mr. Grover curled up on the middle of the bed.
“Mr. Grover, out!” Sadie ordered.
Mr. Grover opened his eyes just slightly and then closed them again. Sadie then lifted him off the bed, and Mr. Grover gave a disgusted meow as he slinked out of the room.
“I’ve disturbed him.”
“Ach, don’t worry about him. The fire’s on now. He’ll curl up and sleep in front of that.”
Once Jane was lying on the bed, Sadie put a hand on Jane’s forehead. “You do feel a little hot. Can I get you anything?”
“Nee. It’s okay. I just need to close my eyes for a couple of hours.”
“You do that, dear.” Sadie leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Call out if you need anything. I’ll come back and check on you in a little while. I’ll leave the door open for the warmth of the fire.”
“Denke.” Jane breathed deeply and let it out slowly.
When Sadie slowly backed away, Jane placed her hand over her swirling tummy. Visions of Abigail, and a girlish figure who represented Marcy, troubled her mind. How could she recommend any woman to him? The only woman she could truly see him with was herself.
A tear trickled down her cheek. Who was she kidding? Anyone would be happy to have a man like Matt. He’d be a perfect match for any woman. No wonder there were five women who wanted to marry him—six including herself.
The only thing she could do was go away. Run away like she’d done years ago. Only this time, she’d never come back. He hadn’t been romantically attracted to her years ago, and he certainly wasn’t now. The only saving grace was that he didn’t know how she felt. That would’ve been embarrassing. She could not let him know the extent of her feelings.
What excuse would she give for leaving?
She put a hand to her aching head. If only she were more attractive. No. Not even that would be likely to make a difference. When he looked at her, he never seemed to see a woman—a possible fraa. All he saw was his old childhood friend. The one he climbed trees with, and collected acorns and pine cones to paint to make Christmas decorations. The one who played in the tree house with him and swung from ropes and played at the edges of the creek.
Christmas had always been their favorite time of year and he was going to ruin it by marrying someone.
He was coming tonight for dinner. She’d talk privately with him and make some excuse why she couldn’t do it. That was what she should’ve done in the first place. He could figure things out by himself.
It was too much responsibility.
She wouldn’t make a good choice anyway.
No, she had to think up a better excuse. Perhaps say that she'd thought he wanted her there for a more important reason.
After all, she had left her home and her job because he’d made it sound like some kind of emergency. Now that she knew it wasn’t, she should go home. Why prolong the agony? If her heart was broken now, how much more pain would it be to see Matt with someone he was going to spend the rest of his life with?