“Leah? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Jude fitted himself against her, wrapping his arm around her shaking body.
Leah cried harder, unable to stop. Now Jude would realize how miserable she was and he would ask her questions she didn’t want to answer. He would again insist that he loved her even though those words, once so sweet, couldn’t possibly save her.
“Leah,” Jude whispered against her ear as he gently shifted the pillow away from her face. Once upon a time, the sound of him saying her name had thrilled her deeply, yet she’d reached such a place of desperation that she dreaded proceeding with this conversation. No matter how good her intentions—no matter how much she loved him—if she told Jude the truth, she would devastate him.
“Honey, we need to talk about this,” he insisted, kissing her temple. “You’ve been crying a lot lately, and I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s upsetting you.”
Leah sniffled loudly. When Jude was home, the twins kept their unkind remarks to themselves and Stevie clung to him, so he had no idea how wretched Alice and Adeline made her feel when he was out working at sales and auctions.
“Please, Leah,” Jude pleaded softly. “Turn around and talk to me. No matter what you say, I’ll love you. If I’ve done things that upset you, I need to know about them, sweetheart.”
Leah swallowed hard. The lump in her throat felt like a callus, toughened by her habit of keeping her misery and frustration to herself. Jude wanted their life to be as wonderful and fulfilling as they’d imagined it on their wedding day, yet she couldn’t bring herself to burden him with the daily trials and tribulations she endured. Only a weak, pitiful, spineless wife would hide in the pantry or the bathroom to cry after her husband’s children had hurt her feelings.
But Jude was persistent. Leah considered sharing the most distant of her troubles so he could comfort her and she could pretend her heart was healed. She sighed, turning slowly in his arms as she thought about airing the situations that would bring this painful conversation to its quickest end.
Jude smiled in the darkness, his beard tickling her cheek as he kissed away her tears. “I love you so much, Leah,” he murmured.
She swallowed hard. “Jah. I—I know.”
“You’re the best wife a man could ever have,” he continued softly.
Oh, but you have no idea, Leah thought as she took a breath to fortify herself. A few months ago, she would’ve been echoing his love words—but back in December, she’d been oblivious to reality and other people’s warnings.
“Tell me one thing that’s gone wrong,” he encouraged her, speaking as gently as he did when Stevie was in tears.
Leah hid her face against Jude’s warm, bare chest, wishing she could succumb to the wonder of the lovemaking that had delighted her as a new bride—mostly because it was easier than saying her painful words aloud.
Jude held her without trying to entice her. “One thing,” he repeated softly.
Leah sighed. If she allowed her silent agony to continue, it would soon be time to rise for the day—and the kids would be out of bed, expecting breakfast.
“Well,” she finally admitted, “at church on Sunday, I overheard Naomi and Esther Slabaugh saying how—how odd I am to be raising animals, like a man,” she confessed in a pinched voice. “They talked about how dirty the house was—and it’s not like this is the first time the women here in Morning Star have whispered behind my back. I—I just don’t fit in here.”
Jude sighed into her hair and hugged her closer. “Do you think I care what the neighbors think?” he asked, nuzzling her cheek. “Esther and Naomi are maidel sisters who have nothing better to do than gossip—Jeremiah has had to warn them a time or two about telling tales. Besides, how would they know what our house is like?” he queried gently. “Neither of them ever came to see Frieda, that I can recall. Have they been here to visit you?”
“Hmm. No,” Leah admitted with a sigh.
Jude gently speared his fingers into her hair and let them trail over her shoulder and side. “I have no complaints about your housekeeping, honey,” he said gently. “I know you work hard with the animals, and keeping track of Stevie. Nobody ever died from being attacked by dust bunnies that I know of.”
Leah smiled despite her desperation. She was truly blessed to have such a supportive husband—but then, Jude’s attitude had never been the problem.
“I’ll have another talk with Adeline and Alice,” he continued patiently. “They’re perfectly capable of helping you with the cooking and laundry and—”
“But they hate me!” Leah blurted out before she could stop herself. “Every day when you leave, they call me names. Then they change into English clothes—”
“What sort of names?” Jude stiffened slightly, obviously surprised by what she’d told him.
Leah cringed. She’d let the cat out of the proverbial bag, so there would be no way to keep this insidious information to herself any longer. “Their favorite one rhymes with . . . witch,” she mumbled, wishing she could shut out the tone with which the twins had muttered it. “When I informed them that a bitch is a female dog, they laughed and said it was the perfect name for me. When we’re clearing the table after a meal, they whistle for me and toss bones.”
Jude’s body had gone rigid, and she could feel him trembling with anger. “Why haven’t you told me this before, so I could—? No, wait,” he whispered before exhaling harshly. “I suspect you’ve felt too humiliated to mention their behavior. Leah, I’m so sorry—and we’re not going to let the girls get away with this. What else? Tell me everything, sweetheart.”
Here, doggie, doggie. Come get your bone, you stupid mutt.
Leah tried in vain to
