“Okay, I promise. As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“It doesn’t. Not anymore. But it’ll explain my position, at least.”
“Okay, I promise.” She regarded him soberly, and their swinging stopped.
Arden exhaled a slow breath. He had become a very private man over the years. He wasn’t used to sharing these things, but there was something about Sarai that was different. He trusted her promise, for one. Her honesty was a part of her. But not only that. He was ready to say something, to get this secret out into the open air. Maybe it wouldn’t feel so big when he said it out loud.
“A few months before we moved away, I was hanging out with some Englisher guy at the Klassen farm,” he said. The Klassens were a Mennonite family, so they were outsiders, but not quite so far as other Englishers. Still, they were a source of television and internet before he was baptized. “I knew we were moving, and I was having a lot of mixed-up feelings to do with that. I was upset with my parents for dragging me to a whole new state. I didn’t yet see the gift they were giving me.”
“Hmm?” Her voice was soft and encouraging.
“Abram Yoder was supposed to give me a ride home, but he’d left early, and I figured I’d walk. Or maybe Mike Klassen would give me a ride in his truck.”
“Yah, go on.” She started them swinging again.
“So we were hanging out and talking, and when it got late, I asked Mike to drive me home. We were passing the Swarey farm, and I saw this buggy—hitched up and just standing there empty. It was late. No one was around. And Mike wanted to know if I could drive a buggy at the Englisher speed limit. It was a stupid question. Of course I could, but only if the horse was running full speed, and he said he’d bet me a hundred dollars that I couldn’t.”
Arden pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “I was feeling rebellious and angry and...I did something stupid. I fully intended to return that buggy. But it was so much nicer than any buggy I could afford. I got a secondhand buggy when I bought my own, and it was forever having problems. I wasn’t going to take that beautiful one for long. I just wanted to see how fast it could go. And prove to Mike we could match their speed limit.”
“Oh, no...” she breathed.
“Yah.”
“Was that my daet’s new buggy you took for a joyride?” she whispered.
“Yah, it was,” he said, and he felt his face heat. “I’m ashamed to say it. But I took that buggy and whipped the horse up and took it down the road as fast as lightning. It was faster than I thought it would be. It was what a decent one drove like, and it felt amazing. But then I lost control, and the horse threw the buggy. Thankfully, the horse was fine. I was tossed clear of it and only suffered a few bruises. But the buggy—”
“Was ruined,” she said. “It was demolished.”
“So I made sure the horse was okay, and we brought it back to the Swarey place, and then I jumped into the truck, and we sped off,” he said. “I fully expected to be found out, but no one ever said anything.”
“We thought an Englisher had played a trick while we were at the Swareys’ place,” she said. “We heard the truck.”
“It was me.” He swallowed. “I have some of the money to pay your daet back for the damage I did. I’m going to give it to him before I leave for home, and I will come back, Sarai. I will. But when I come back, it will be to hand over the rest of the cash to him to buy a brand-new buggy to replace the one I ruined. And not before.”
“He’d forgive you, if you told him it was you,” she said. “He won’t make you repay it.”
“He might forgive me, but he’d never respect me,” he replied. “No, I will do it right or not at all.”
“How much have you got saved up?” she asked.
“About half of what I’d need,” he said. “The irony is we moved out to Ohio, and every penny I made, my family has needed for some emergency or other. If we’re not fixing a buggy or paying for medical bills, then we’re fixing the plumbing or replacing a roof. It’s constant.”
“If you came back alone, saving might be easier.”
“Can Gott really bless the easier path?” he asked. “My family needs me, too, and I pray constantly that He will provide a way for me to get the money I owe your father. I won’t come back the easy way, and I won’t face your daet with this until I can do it as a man with the money to pay him back.”
“You were thinking of getting married, though—” Sarai said. “To Mary.”
“I thought I could just tell Gott I was sorry and put it behind me,” he admitted. “It was cowardly on my part, and Gott didn’t bless that, did He?”
“No. I suppose not.”
“When a man messes up, he has to make it right, Sarai,” he said quietly. “There is an apology, confession, Gott’s forgiveness, your brother’s forgiveness, and then making it right again. But I have to do it properly. I’m going to pay him back for the buggy I totaled.”
“You really have grown up,” she murmured.
He met her gaze. “Enough to know when I’m well and truly wrong about something.”
“I think you’re being very noble,” she said, and her voice trembled.
He reached for her hand before he could think better of it, and instead of pushing him away, she closed her fingers around his.
“If you feel that you have to tell your daet—” he started.
“I don’t. The accident was forgotten a long time ago. Daet has never spoken of it since. But I can appreciate you wanting to make it right in a way my father can respect.”
“Danke.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve never told a living person that before.”
“No one?” Her eyes widened.
“No one.” He swallowed. What had he just done? He’d just told his deepest secret to the daughter of the man he’d wronged... He shut his eyes. He really was a fool! And when he opened them again, he found Sarai still looking at him.
“Why did you tell me?” she whispered.
“You’re different.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “I don’t know how. Maybe you’re just everything I want one day—once I finally deserve it.”
Sitting here in the low kerosene light coming from the window, she looked prettier than he’d ever seen a woman look. Her eyes were like pools, tugging him in, but he wouldn’t let himself go.
