Ariana rose and grabbed her coat from the closet. Rudy was getting out of his carriage when she came out the front door. His shoulders were slumped, and he had a cast on his right hand.
He looked like she felt—broken.
They had been so in love that they dreamed of uniting in a lifelong bond, of being each other’s world for the rest of their lives. They’d wanted to have children together. And now…
What had happened? Whatever took place yesterday evening at the Steele place wasn’t what broke them. He wanted peace to reign in his home through obedience to the Old Ways, and she wanted freedom according to Galatians: “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Somehow for them in this Old Order time and place, those two needs were opposed to each other, and they could not pursue both simultaneously.
She stood in front of him, but he could hardly look at her. “Ariana,” he whispered. His eyes filled with tears, and he removed his hat.
“How’s your hand?”
He lifted his arm, staring at it. “As it should be, useless and hurting.” He lowered it. “I’m going home, Ari. Probably Monday. There’s nothing left for me here, and I…I need to think.” His eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
She touched his soft reddish-brown curls one last time. “I know.”
The front door slammed, and Ariana turned. Berta was coming down the steps, apparently heading for the mailbox. She seemed to notice them for the first time. “Rudy?” Berta called. “Hi. We’ve got desserts and coffee inside.”
Rudy seemed perplexed. “Denki,”—he put on his hat—“but I just have a minute.”
She pointed at his arm. “You’re in a cast.”
“It’s hard to miss, isn’t it?” Ariana hoped Berta would drop it.
“Ya.” Berta grabbed the mail and hurried back to the house.
Rudy thumped his cast. “Clearly she doesn’t know yet.”
“I’ve told no one. But considering what the community thinks of me, I’m pretty confident everyone has been expecting a breakup.”
“Only because they don’t know what we have or who we are to each other.”
That was sweet, and memories of their good times flooded her, and she knew they would for a long time to come. “What did you tell your aunt and uncle?”
“You know me. I made a joke. I said I fell down and stepped on it. They think I slipped on an icy patch.”
She nodded.
“I’m just putting off the inevitable. I have to tell them the truth.”
“You need to tell someone you can trust, someone who can help you get perspective on what happens to you when you’re angry and why. But you don’t have to tell your aunt and uncle. She loves you, but she talks a lot, and there’s no need for the whole town, Amish and Englisch, to know. Not here or in Indiana.”
“I’ve had a temper since I was twelve. It doesn’t show up often, but when it does…”
“Will you find someone who can help you? You can get a hold on this. You are a good man. Don’t doubt it.”
He stared at her. “That’s very kind.”
“And true. Will you?”
“Ya.”
“If we had remained together, we would’ve had to address the anger outbursts, but, Rudy, that’s not what ended us. I’m no longer the right woman for you, and that means you’re not the right man for me.”
“What you’re proposing—having historians come to the café—will mean constant displeasure and disapproval from the ministers. Maybe decades of it. I’m not cut out for that.”
“I know. It’s okay. We had no idea where life would take us when we fell in love.”
“You did love me, then?”
“I do love you.”
He inhaled sharply and nodded. “Me too.” He started to touch her cheek. “May I?”
She nodded.
He caressed her face. “You’re a treasure, Ariana Brenneman.” He smiled. “I don’t care what the others are saying.”
She laughed. It was an old joke, something he’d said to her before their first date. She hugged him. “Bye, Rudy.”
He held her for a long moment and then strode to his rig without another glance her way.