she demanded. “Haven’t I put it plainly? We both have to marry someone. And you live close by. We’re already almost family, with your brother Charley and my sister Miriam already husband and wife. You have plenty of room for my sheep and bees. I think that empty shed would be perfect for my turkey poults.”
“Turkeys? Bees?” He stood, backed away, and planted his feet solidly. “I’d hoped there’d be a better reason for us to exchange vows. What of affection, Johanna? Aren’t a husband and wife supposed to—”
Her eyes narrowed, and a thin crease marred her smooth forehead. “If you’re looking for me to speak of romance, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. We’re past that, Roland. We’re too old, and we’ve seen too much of life. Don’t you remember what the visiting preacher said at Barbara and Tobias’s wedding? Marriage is to establish a family and strengthen the bonds of community and church.”
Pain knifed through him. All this time, he’d been certain that Johanna felt the same way about him that he felt about her. Not that he’d ever betrayed his late wife—not in deed and not in thought. He’d kept Johanna in a quiet corner of his heart. But now he’d thought that they’d have a second chance. “It was my fault, what happened between us. What went wrong...I’ve never denied it. I know how badly I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry ever since—”
“Roland. What are you talking about? We were kids when we walked out together. Neither of us had joined the church. That’s the past. I’m not clinging to it, and you can’t, either. It’s time to look to our future. What we have to do is decide if we would be good for each other. We’re both hard workers and we’re both dedicated to our children. It seems silly for me to look elsewhere for a husband when you live so close to my mother’s farm.”
“So we’re to decide on the rest of our lives because my land lies near your mother’s?” He hesitated, realizing his words were going to get him into trouble. But he couldn’t help how he felt and he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if he didn’t express those feelings. “I take it that you’d want to have the banns read at the next worship service. Since you’ve already made up your mind, why wait? Widows and widowers may marry when they choose. Why waste time with courting when you could be cleaning my house and your sheep could be grazing in my meadow?”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Answer me one question, Johanna. Do you love me?”
She averted her eyes. “I’m too old and too sensible for that. I respect you, and I think you respect me. Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, it isn’t.” Where had this gone so wrong? He had pictured the two of them riding out together in his two-seater behind his new trotter, imagined them taking the children to the beach, going to the State Fair together this summer. He badly wanted to court Johanna properly, and she’d shattered all his hopes and dreams by her emotionless proposal. “It’s not enough for me. And it shouldn’t be enough for you.”
She pursed her lips. “Well, that’s clear enough. I’m sorry to have troubled you, Roland. It’s plain that we can’t—”
“Can’t what? Can’t find what we had and lost? Pauline was a sensible match that suited both our families. In time, when J.J. came, love came and filled our house. When I lost her, part of my heart went with her. But I won’t marry for convenience, not again. If the feelings you have for me aren’t deep and strong, you’d be better to find some other candidate, some prosperous farmer or tradesmen who would be satisfied with a sensible wife. Because...because I’m looking for more.”
Red spots flared on Johanna’s cheeks. “It’s good we had this talk. Otherwise, who knows how much time we would have wasted when we should be looking for—”
“I hope you find what you’re searching for,” Roland said. “And when you find a man willing to settle for a partnership, I hope you’re happy.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “You don’t find happiness in others. You find it in yourself and in service to family and community.”
“So you’re saying I’m selfish?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It sounds as if that’s exactly what you meant.” With a nod, he turned to search for his son and walked away. There was nothing more to say, nothing more he wanted to hear. He wanted to make Johanna his wife. He could think of no one who would be a more loving mother to J.J., but not under these circumstances...never under these circumstances.
“I’m glad we got this straightened out,” she called after him. “Because it’s clear to me that the two of us would never work out.”
Johanna’s temper was out of the box now. She was mad, but he didn’t care. Better to have her angry at him than to feel nothing at all.
* * *
Later that evening, at the forge beside his barn, Roland shaped a horseshoe on his anvil, with powerful swings of his hammer. Sparks flew, and his brother Charley chuckled.
“Just make it fit, Roland,” Charley teased. “Don’t beat it to death.”
It was after supper, but Roland hadn’t taken time to eat. He’d been hard at work since he’d left the festival. Not wanting to spoil J.J.’s day, he’d given permission for Grace to keep him with her boy, ’Kota, and bring him home in the morning. Since tomorrow wasn’t a church Sunday, it would be a leisurely day for visiting. Hannah Yoder, Johanna’s mam, had invited him to join them for supper tonight, but after the heated words he and Johanna had exchanged, her table was the last place he wanted to be.
Besides, Roland was in no mood to be a patient father this evening.
Charley had apologized for bringing his mare to be shod so late in the day. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but I promised Miriam we’d drive over to attend services in her friend Polly’s district. You know Polly and Evan, don’t you? They moved here from Virginia last summer.”
Roland did know Evan Beachy. The newcomer had brought a roan gelding to be shod just after Christmas. Evan was a tall, quiet man with a gentle hand for his horses. Roland liked him, but he didn’t want to make small talk about the Beachys from Virginia. He wanted to get Charley’s opinion on what had gone wrong between Johanna and him.
Charley was always quick with a joke, but he and his brother were close. Under his breezy manner, Charley hid a smart, sensible mind and a caring heart. Roland had to talk to somebody, and Charley and he had shared their successes and disappointments since they were old enough to confide in each other.
“Brought you some lamb stew,” Charley said. “And some biscuits. Figured you wouldn’t bother to make your own supper. You never did have the sense to eat regular.”
“If I ate as much as you, I’d be the size of LeRoy Zook.”
Charley pulled a face. “Don’t try to deny it. You don’t eat right. What did you have for breakfast?”
“An egg-and-bologna sandwich with cheese.”
“And dinner? Did you even have dinner today?”
Roland didn’t answer. He’d had the strawberry snow cone. He’d had every intention of asking Johanna if she’d join him for the chicken-and-dumpling special that the Mennonite ladies were offering, but after their disagreement, he’d lost his appetite.
“So, no dinner and no supper. You’re a pitiful case, brother. Good thing that I remembered to bring you Ruth’s lamb stew. She made enough for half the church.”
“I appreciate the stew and biscuits, but I can do without your sass,” Roland answered.
When the shoe was shaped to suit him, Roland pressed it to the mare’s front left hoof to make certain of the fit, then heated it and hammered it into place. Last, he checked the hoof for any ragged edges and pronounced the work sound.