The Amish Sweet Shop, page 26
His mother and sisters sewed new shirts, trousers, and jackets, while his brothers supplied him with suspenders and hats for every season and occasion. All the hand tools he used to repair an unused dawdi haus on the outskirts of Bluebird came from his store, Howard’s Hardware. He and Hannah decided to leave the name alone, as a tribute to their friends and mentors, Lawrence and Martha Howard. He bought a used buggy and a five-year-old Standardbred straight from the trotter auction and named the quick little gelding, Bob. The two of them got along fine. Of his former English life, only his Ford F-150 remained, and that truck should be gone within a few days. He’d found a buyer weeks ago, but the young man had had trouble lining up financing. Seth could afford to be patient with him.
Ever since that snowy day in early March when Mrs. Robb and Mrs. Morgan stepped out of the cold into his sister’s warm house, Seth had gained far more than he’d given up. Now he had a little house in the country with a view of cornfields, a job he looked forward to every morning, and the prettiest, most intelligent business partner in the world. Someday, when the time was right, he would ask Hannah Kline to become his wife. But until that day, he would thank God every night she’d never lost patience with a stubborn half-Englisher.
Throwing the last of his coffee into the flowerbed, Seth finished dressing for church. Today he would take the vows of the Amish faith and be baptized by the bishop, along with the other young men and women ready to leave rumschpringe behind. Then he would join Hannah, her family, and members of his new district for the communion service, followed by a potluck lunch.
“Let’s go.” The booming voice of Adam Miller rattled through the house. “You sure don’t want to be late today, brother.”
“I’ll be right there,” Seth said, grabbing his hat from the hook. “Hold your horses.”
“I doubled my horse power for today.” Grinning, Adam shook the reins over a matched pair of mares in harness. “Climb up here with us.”
“Nope, I’m good in the back.” Seth squeezed into the rear-facing bench with his nephews and nieces, allowing Thomas, Rachel, Adam, and Amanda a more comfortable ride. Although the Miller family district was fifteen miles away, his siblings insisted on attending the baptism. And for his family’s support, Seth was grateful. He was also grateful the family hosting today’s service didn’t live too far away.
After they parked the buggy at the end of the row, Seth spotted Hannah standing with her parents, along with Lydia, and her new husband, Nathan. Jacob Beechy and his new bride, Hannah’s cousin Rose, were there, too. Seth cordially greeted those he hoped would also be his family someday, then entered the house where the baptism would take place.
“Hold up there, son. Grant me a minute or two.”
Seth recognized the voice of his father but couldn’t believe his eyes when he turned around. Joseph Miller stood with his sweet-faced mother and his former bishop next to a hired van. Seth closed the distance between them in a few long strides. “Thank you for coming, Dat, Mam, Bishop. I am grateful, but I need to go inside now.”
“Please, son. Let me say my piece.” Joseph Miller gazed up with watery eyes. “I sinned grievously against you. I was wrong and it has weighed heavily on me. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I forgave you last March when I begged God to forgive me. Send your driver on his way and stay for the communion service. Afterward, I’d like you to meet Hannah Klein and her family.”
“We’ve heard good things about her,” said his mother.
“If that’s your wish, we will stay.” Joseph Miller held out his hand.
But instead of shaking, Seth pulled his father into a tight embrace. “Today is a new day for us all,” he whispered in his ear. “And we’ll speak no more of the past.”
Seth had one more surprise waiting for him after the baptism portion of the service. While district members filed in for communion, Lydia grabbed hold of his arm.
“My sister needs to get to the birthing center. A new little Kline is on the way. Hannah says you bought a quick little gelding.” Lydia dragged him out the door and down the steps.
“I’d be happy to take Hannah, providing you and both my sisters ride along. If that new little Kline refuses to wait, I want plenty of women around who can take over.”
“I have a better idea,” said his new bishop. “Let’s not take any chances. Since the new owner hasn’t picked up your truck yet, I believe we can let you use it one more time. The women will keep Hannah comfortable until you come back for her.”
Seth ran to the fenced paddock and mounted the only saddled horse he saw for the short jaunt home. He might not win any more barrel races, but he still knew how to ride. And as Hannah would later attest, he still knew how to drive like an Englisher.
Please turn the page for a
taste of more holiday-themed
Amish romance from Kensington . . .
A MOTHER’S GIFT
by Charlotte Hubbard
Chapter 1
As Lenore Otto sat on the bed with Leah, wistfully watching the dusk of late November fill her daughter’s room, her heart was torn. The two of them had shared this evening ritual of talking and praying since Lenore’s husband, Raymond, had died last year. It had always brought her a comforting sense of peace, along with the certainty that she and her daughter would move forward with the plans God had for them. After all the cleaning they’d done and the preparations they’d made to host Leah’s wedding festivities the next day, she was ready to relax—but she needed to speak the words that weighed so heavily on her heart.
Tomorrow, when Leah got married, their lives would follow separate paths. Lenore knew she would be fine remaining on the small farm alone, making and selling her specialty quilts. She supposed some of her qualms about her daughter’s marriage plagued every mother....
Lord, I wish I could believe my Leah’s reaching toward happiness rather than heartache.
Before God’s still, small voice could respond to Lenore, Leah let out an ecstatic sigh. “Oh, Mama, it’s a dream come true,” she whispered. “Starting tomorrow, when I marry Jude, my life will finally be the way I’ve always wanted it. My waiting is over!”
Not for the first time, Lenore sighed inwardly at her daughter’s fantasy. As she returned Leah’s hug, savoring these precious moments in the room where her little girl had matured into a woman of twenty-eight, she didn’t have it in her to shatter Leah’s dreams. No mother wanted her daughter to forever remain a maidel, yet during these final hours before the wedding, Lenore thought she should try once again to point out the realities of marrying Jude Shetler. Jude was a fine, upstanding man any parent would be pleased to welcome as a son-in-law, but as a widower he carried a certain amount of . . . baggage.
“Leah, your life will change in ways you can’t anticipate when you marry,” Lenore began softly. She rested her head against the headboard, grasping her daughter’s hand. “When you move into a man’s home—”
“Oh, Mama, you’ve already told me what to expect in the bedroom,” Leah interrupted with a nervous giggle. “It’s not as though I haven’t seen the cows and the horses mating.”
Lenore closed her eyes, praying for words that would gently pierce the balloon of maidenly naïveté in which Leah seemed to live. “There’s more to marriage than mating,” she whispered earnestly. “You’ll be moving into a home where Jude and his kids have established their routine. We’ve both heard the rumors about how Alice and Adeline might be behaving inappropriately during their rumspringa—”
“They’re sixteen, and they’re very pretty,” Leah quickly pointed out. “Twins are inclined to get into double trouble as part of their nature at that age. I certainly found mischief during my running-around years.”
Lenore sighed again. She wished Raymond were here to help her with this difficult discussion. “Sweetheart, I doubt you were ever out of your dat’s or my sight for more than an hour at a time. The pranks you used to pull at sale barns when you were helping Dat with the livestock were nothing compared to the way I’ve heard the Shetler twins run the roads with English boys in their cars.”
“I rode in a few cars—and pickups—you didn’t know about,” Leah shot back. “It’s not as though I spent my time hanging around with girls at the auction barns, you know.”
Squeezing Leah’s fingers so she’d focus on the matters at hand, Lenore held her daughter’s gaze in the dimness. “I probably should’ve insisted that you learn to cook and sew and keep house instead of tending the animals with your dat,” she said with a sigh. “But you were a tremendous help to him—and you were the only child God blessed us with. More than anything, I’ve wanted you to spend your life doing what makes you happy.”
“And I am happy, Mama!” Leah said blissfully. “I make a gut income selling my dressed chickens and ducks, my goat’s milk, and raising crossbred cows—the same way Dat did. If I hadn’t spent so much time in the sale barns around Jude, he would never have come to know me—or love me.”
Lenore paused, searching for another conversational path. She had no doubt that her daughter’s love for Jude was sincere, and that Jude loved Leah, too, but it took more than shared affection to make a marriage work and to keep a household running smoothly.
“And Mama, if your quilts don’t sell—or if you want to stop working so hard on them,” Leah said tenderly, “you know I’ll help you out with money so you can stay here at home. I know how much you and Dat have always loved this place.”
Tears sprang to Lenore’s eyes. Once again, her daughter spoke with utmost sincerity, unaware that Jude might have different ideas about Leah’s income—or that he might insist she give up raising and selling her chickens, ducks, and goats. He might also be reluctant for his wife to raise cattle, which required so much time and energy, even if he admired Leah’s way with those animals.
“Denki for thinking of me, dear, but we’re talking about you now,” Lenore insisted gently. “I’m concerned because Jude’s mamm, Margaret, also lives with Jude and the twins—not to mention Stevie, who seems rather immature for five. Margaret will have her way of doing things, because she took charge after Frieda died. And with Stevie still missing his mamm, you’ll have a lot of little-boy emotions to deal with as you prepare him to start school next year. Most new brides only have a husband to get used to until the babies start coming.”
“Jah, but with Margaret running the household and tending the three kids—especially Stevie—their routine can remain uninterrupted,” Leah pointed out. “That will give Jude and me time to adjust to being husband and wife, and it’ll mean that meals are put on the table and the laundry and cleaning will still get done. From what I know of Margaret, she’ll have instructed Alice and Adeline about doing their part in the process, too.”
From what I know of Margaret, Lenore thought sadly, she’ll be snipping at you every chance she gets, calling you a slacker—or worse—because you’re not assuming the traditional role of an Amish wife.
Lenore stared at the far wall, sensing whatever she said would go unheard. “Just be ready for your plans to be changed, Leah,” she warned gently. “Spending most of your time with Jude at auctions, or in the barnyard tending your animals, might not work out the way you’ve imagined. Margaret will be a woman with a plan, too, you know.”
Leah rested her head against the wooden headboard, closing her eyes. “I’ll cross that bridge when—or if—I get to it, Mama. Tomorrow’s my big day, and I know it’ll be just perfect because Jude’s sharing it with me. The light in his eyes when he looks at me is all I need to see to believe he’ll love me forever and ever.”
Lenore looked out the window at the half moon, which shone brilliantly in the night sky. Bless your heart, Leah, I wonder if you still believe the moon’s made of green cheese, as Dat and I teased you about when you were a child, she thought with a sinking heart. We probably should have done a lot of things differently as we were raising you . . . but it’s too late to change your way of looking at the world.
“I wish you all the best as you start your new life, Leah,” she said softly. With a final squeeze to her daughter’s hand, Lenore rose from the bed. “You’ll always be in my thoughts and prayers—and I’ll always love you. Gut night and sleep tight.”
“You can sleep for me, Mama. I’m too excited to close my eyes.”
Lenore paused in the doorway of the unlit room for a last glance at her giddy daughter. Bless her, Lord, and hold her in Your hand, she prayed. At this point, only You can keep Leah’s happiness from turning into a disaster.
Photo © Carrie Schechter Studios
Laura Bradford is also the author of the women’s fiction novel Portrait of a Sister, and the national bestselling Amish Mysteries. Her next novel, A Daughter’s Truth, will release in 2019. Laura lives in Mohegan Lake, New York. Visit her website at laurabradford.com.
Mary Ellis has written twenty-three novels including Amish fiction, historical romance, and suspense. Her debut book, A Widow’s Hope, was nominated for a 2010 Carol Award. Living in Harmony won the 2012 Lime Award for Excellence in Amish Fiction, and Love Comes to Paradise won the 2013 Lime Award. Her latest suspense series was Marked for Retribution Mysteries. Hiding in Plain Sight, book one, was released in August by Severn House. She lives in Ohio near Amish country with her husband, dog, and cat. She can be found at:
www.maryellis.net
http://www.facebook.com/Author-MaryEllis
Emma Miller, The Amish Sweet Shop
