CHAPTER 1

I promise my name—not my heart.

Lindie Wyse recalled the words in Josiah's letter thatdetailed the terms. Not that it mattered what the marital arrangementswere. As her older brother, Eli, had pointed out, shecouldn't possibly expect more. All she had to offer any man wasa marred life.

Eli leaned closer. "It's going to be okay," he said, repeatingwhat he had said shortly after they boarded the bus last evening.Several hours later his tone still lacked certainty. "Cedar Ridgeis a smaller district than ours. I think you'll like the people." Hepaused briefly, then continued when she failed to respond. "I metmany of the members at Caroline Plank's funeral. Josiah was outof sorts coping with his fraa's unexpected death ..." His voicedroned on, sounding like a far-off woodpecker hammering awayon a rotting tree trunk. "The winters are longer than ours. Youdid pack your wool socks, jah?"

Lindie nodded mechanically, a trait she'd only recentlyacquired. She lent an ear but remained silent. She hoped herbrother's assumptions were right. Eli had hardly mentionedJosiah Plank in the three years since his wife's death. It wasn'tuntil her brother returned last month from what he called "a businesstrip" that he spoke about his childhood friend again. WhenEli and his wife, Margaret, talked about Josiah, it was as if theywere trying to set Lindie up on a pen-pal courtship. She discovereda few short weeks later that they were arranging much morethan a distant courtship. They were setting her up for marriage.

Over the past few months, Lindie had carried the weight ofthe members' scornful stares. Nothing had hurt worse than whenMoses, the man she loved, rejected her, or when his sister, Mary,openly rebuked her. Even after Lindie knelt in confession, thechurch members' estrangement continued. So did the gossip. Shewas plagued with nightmares and shrouded in shame. Her lifewould never be the same, yet the looming question wouldn't bepushed aside.

Could God's mercy extend far enough to reach her?

Daylight crept over the horizon. She leaned forward to peerthrough the window. Since the majority of their travel had beenduring the night, she'd missed the change of scenery. NorthernMichigan had plenty of trees. Snow too. The farther north theytraveled on I-75, the more a snow-covered roadside replaced thebrown carpet of grass. She sank back against the vinyl bus seat,pulled her cape tighter against her neck, and watched as the landscapepassed in a blur.

A few hours later the bus rattled over the steel grates onthe Mackinac Bridge and Lindie's thoughts returned to theirapproaching destination. She'd overheard some of the other passengerschatting about the Great Lakes, but she hadn't envisionedanything so vast as these open waters. Her settlement was nearlakes, but nothing as massive as the Straits of Mackinac. As theyreached the end of the bridge, entering the Upper Peninsula, shecraned her neck for a full view. The extensive distance that nowseparated her from her family took root in her mind.

Her stomach curdled at the thought. She lifted one hand tocover her mouth, held her belly with the other, and willed herselfnot to vomit. A moment later the queasiness subsided. She leanedher forehead against the cold, damp window and closed her eyes.She wished she was moving so far away for another reason —anyother reason—than to escape her old life. Pride goes beforedestruction. The scripture in Proverbs was true. Only she neverexpected one bad decision would lead to such a hard fall.

"It won't be much longer nau," Eli said, then added, "Are youall right?"

She didn't risk responding. Even the motion of a slight nodmight aggravate her stomach. She certainly didn't want to becovered in vomit when she met her soon-to-be husband for thefirst time.

* * *

Josiah Plank took a seat on an empty bus station bench. Hepropped his elbows on his knees, then buried his face in his hands.None of this seemed real. It certainly didn't seem right. Agreeingto marry a woman he knew little about was crazy. Normally he'dweigh the cost. This just proved how unstable he'd become sinceCaroline died.

She didn't know him either, other than from things Eli mighthave said.

She ... He drew a blank on her name. Perhaps his lapse inmemory was a sign. Eli's little sister was just a kid, maybe ten,when he saw her last. Their Ohio settlements were too far apartto belong to the same church district, so their families weren'tclose. Even since he'd moved to Cedar Ridge, contact with hisfriend had been sporadic. Eli had made the trip for Caroline'sfuneral, but they'd talked about the lumber business, and nothingabout either of Eli's sisters.

He didn't want to embarrass himself or the girl by stumblingover her name when he introduced her to the bishop. Josiah dughis hand into his pocket and pulled out the letter he'd receivedtwo days ago. He scanned down to the bottom of the page. Lindie.

"Lindie Rose Wyse." Fire rose from his stomach and shotup the back of his throat. He stood. He needed to find a drinkingfountain.

He jammed the folded letter into his pocket, his fingers touchingloose cash. He pulled out the money and made a quick count.Enough to purchase a return bus fare. He shoved the money backinto his pocket and went in search of water.

Jah, he owed her that much for coming to his senses. Shewould be glad he did too. She, there he went again. "It's Lindie,"he said to himself as he pressed the fountain lever and bent to takea drink.

Behind him, a bus squealed to a halt, its compressed airbrakes hissing before the door opened. He studied each passengeras they disembarked. The area crowded with newcomers anda hum of greetings spread among the people. Josiah inched forward.Perhaps she'd changed her mind.

He glimpsed a woman in an Amish dress stepping off the bus.His breath caught. Eli had given an accurate description of hissister: early twenties, small frame, average height, and bright-redhair. He shook his head. What Eli hadn't told him was thatshe was beautiful. With those features, she would have distractedevery unmarried man in her district. So why had Eli asked Josiahto marry her?

Eli exited the bus next, reached for his sister's elbow, andguided her toward the building. It only took a moment beforeEli's hand shot up in a quick wave.

Josiah swallowed hard. He wasn't ready for this, but heweaved through the crowd in their direction anyway.

"Gut to see you, Josiah."

Eli extended his hand and Josiah shook it. "Jah, you too."

"This is mei sister Lindie." Eli nudged her shoulder.

"Hello." Her voice barely reached a whisper. She kept herhead lowered and slightly lifted her eyes to meet his, but themoment she did, she glanced away.

"It's nice to meet you." He turned to Eli. "Was your tripgut?" Small talk. He hated every minute.

"It was a long ride, ain't so, Lindie?" Eli nudged his sisterbut didn't receive a response. He readdressed Josiah. "The wedderis much colder up here. Across the Ohio state line, we still haveleaves on the trees."

"We had a few flurries last night." He lifted his gaze to thecloudy sky. "We'll probably have another snowfall tonight."That wasn't unusual for November.

Eli shifted his feet. "So what time is the bishop expecting us?"

A raspy noise, something between a cough and a gasp,escaped...