Johanna's Bridegroom Read Online Free PDF Page B

So many memories—some good, some bad—clouded her judgment. She had prayed over her indecision, but if God had a plan for her, she was too dense to hear His voice. Sometimes her inner voice whispered that she didn’t need another husband, that she and the children were doing just fine. But at other times, she was assailed by the wisdom of hundreds of years of Amish women who’d lived before her.
    Amish men and women were expected to marry and live together in a home centered on faith and family and community. Remaining single went against the unwritten rules of her church. Even a widow, like her mother, was supposed to remarry. Mourning too long was considered selfish. Dat and Wilmer, to put a fine point on it, had both left this earth. It was her duty and her mother’s duty to continue on here on earth, following the Ordnung and remaining faithful to the community.
    Johanna knew, in her heart of hearts, that it was time she found a new husband. She didn’t need Anna or Ruth or even her mother to tell her that. Looking at it from the church’s point of view, she had to first find a man of faith, a man who would help her to raise her children to be hardworking and devoted members of the community. Second, as a mother, she should pick someone who would set a good example, and hopefully a man who could support her and her children—those she already had and those they might have together. She hadn’t needed her sisters to offer that advice, either. She was very good at making logical decisions.
    If she married Roland, she honestly believed that she wouldn’t have to worry about struggling to feed and clothe her children. His farrier business was thriving. She knew that Roland, unlike Wilmer, would never raise his hand to her in anger. And she was certain that he didn’t drink alcohol or use tobacco, both substances she abhorred. Johanna shivered as she remembered the last time Wilmer had struck her. She was not a violent woman, but it had taken every ounce of her willpower not to fight back. Instead, she’d waited until he fell into a drunken sleep, gathered her babies and fled the house.
    She pushed those bad memories out of her head. With Roland, she would be safe. Her children would be safe. They wouldn’t grow up under her mother’s roof without a father’s direction. And Roland, unlike Wilmer, would be a man both she and the children could respect.
    Two English girls ran out of the maze together. The women beside Johanna stood and walked away with the laughing children. Johanna glanced back at the straw mountain, saw the boys and sank again into her thoughts.
    Many Amish marriages were arranged ones. And many couples who came together for logical reasons, such as partnership, sharing a similar faith and pleasing their families, came to care deeply for each other. As far as she could tell, most of the English world married for romantic love and nearly half of those unions ended in divorce.
    The Amish did not divorce. Had she been forced to leave Wilmer and return to her mother’s home permanently, both of them would have been in danger of being cast out of the church—shunned. Under certain circumstances, she could have remained part of the community, but they would still have been married. As long as the two of them lived, there could be no dissolving the marriage.
    Marrying a man for practical reasons would be a sensible plan. If each of them kept their part of the bargain, if they showed respect and worked hard, romantic love might not be necessary. She considered whether she would find Roland attractive if they had just met, if they hadn’t played and worked and worshiped together since they were small children. How would she react if he wasn’t Roland Byler, Charley and Mary’s older brother, if she hadn’t wept a butter churn full of tears over him? What would she do if a matchmaker told Mam that a widowed farmer named Jakey Coblentz wanted to court Johanna?
    The answer was as plain as the Kapp on