“I think you’ll like your lunch, Michael,” Miriam said, casting him a smile. “I’m giving you a little extra—growing boys need to eat.”
The boys all wore their new school clothes—store-bought pants and suspenders, and hand-sewn shirts that Miriam had made herself in the evenings since they’d arrived in their home. Several women from the community, including Natasha Zook, came over to sew with her to get the boys ready for school that fall. And they each had four fresh new shirts, and three pairs of pants to last them the winter. If they didn’t get torn... Boys tended to wear out clothes before they outgrew them—at least, that was the advice she’d received from Fannie Mast. And Fannie would know.
The last few months Miriam had been feeding her new sons food they loved, food they’d never tried before, and discovering their favorites. Babies bonded with milk, but big boys like these needed shoofly pie and fried chicken. A mamm fed her boys—and she’d been reveling in this new role of wife and mother.
Outside, Amos had just hitched the buggy, and the horses shifted their hooves impatiently. Miriam glanced out the window at Amos, who was leaning forward, waiting for them.
“Are you ready for your first day at school?” Miriam asked brightly.
“We don’t know Dutch,” Jack, who was twelve, said nervously. He’d been mentioning the same thing over and over for weeks. It was his personal worry.
“That’s okay,” Miriam said for the hundredth time, it felt like. “The teacher understands. You’ll be fine. And you’ll meet some other kinner your age—” She paused, winced. “Kids your age,” she amended. “And you’ll be back home before you know it. I’ll make sure there are some warm cookies, if that helps.”
“Okay.” Jack smiled faintly. He still looked nervous.
Vince was ten, and he peeked into his cloth lunch bag, rooting around. Michael nudged him.
“Wait until lunch, Vince,” he said.
“I was only looking...” And Vince glanced up at Miriam with a small smile. They all knew Miriam well enough by now to know that she wouldn’t get upset over them eating. If anything, Miriam took great joy in feeding these growing boys. Her boys. Her heart flooded with love just looking at them.
“All right,” Miriam said. “Off you go. Daet is waiting. Have a good day.”
The boys seemed okay with Dutch names for mom and dad, because they were different enough not to overlap with their memories of their birth parents. But just sending them off today...it didn’t feel quite right.
Michael opened the front door, but before he could push open the screen, Miriam said, “Boys!”
They turned, and her heart sped up. She wasn’t used to making speeches, but before they went out the door to school for the first time, she felt like she needed to say something important.
“Boys, I want you to remember something,” Miriam said earnestly. “I love you all. I know this is different and new, and I know we’ll all stumble a little while we figure out how to be a family, but one thing you’ll learn about me is that I’m very stubborn. I might drive you a little crazy with it sometimes, but the good part about me is that nothing you do will ever shake my love for you. Ever. I’m just too stubborn to change my mind once it’s set, and I love you. Do you understand? I’m your mamm now, and I will love you until the end of time. That’s how this works.”
It hadn’t been quite what she wanted to say, but it would do.
Colby, who was the youngest at nine years old, came back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug. She put a hand on the top of his hat on his head, and then he headed back to the door as quickly as he’d hugged her.
“Bye, Mamm,” Colby said. “See you after school.”
Michael shot her a shy smile, then opened the screen, and the boys all tramped outside toward the buggy where Amos waited.
This was it—their first day of school. And they were plenty old enough to handle it just fine, so why was she feeling this strange flutter of anxiety at the thought of it? Maybe this was just part of being a mamm.
Amos smiled over their heads at her. He’d drive the boys to school for the first day, and they’d walk home. It wasn’t far, but the first day seemed like an important day to get a ride with their new daet.
Amos’s smile warmed his eyes and made her cheeks grow warm in response.
“Have a good day at work, Amos!” she called.
“Yah.” He blew her a kiss. “You’re coming by the shop later, right?”
“I’ll be there!”
Then Amos flicked the reins and they were off.
Miriam watched the buggy head down the drive, and when she went back inside to the kitchen, the screen door bounced shut behind her before she closed the door. The house was silent, except for the ticking of the kitchen clock. But she wouldn’t be lonely or bored on her own today. She had dishes to do, breakfast to clean up and a stack of ledgers waiting for her attention on the counter. And next to the ledgers sat that beautifully carved box that her husband had spent a decade finishing for her. She was using it for her recipe cards because she liked looking at it every day. It reminded her of how much her husband loved her, and that reminder was just as sweet today as it was the day she’d come back home.
Miriam stood in the kitchen in absolute silence, her heart soring upward with a silent prayer of thanks. Gott had given Miriam the deepest desires of her heart that she’d been too afraid to even ask for. She had her husband, who she loved deeply; she had four sons to call her own, two businesses to grow with the man she loved and a beautiful array of days spreading out in front of her to fill...
She was finally home.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, be sure to pick up
these previous books in Patricia Johns’s
Redemption’s Amish Legacies series:
The Nanny’s Amish Family
A Precious Christmas Gift
Available now from Love Inspired.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Loving Her Amish Neighbor by Rebecca Kertz.
Dear Reader:
We don’t all fit into an easy spot, do we? As a romance author, I find it hard to describe myself to new acquaintances. People don’t know how to react to “I write books.” When I wrote this story, I identified with Miriam a lot. She’s strong, smart and just different enough that no one quite understands her.
I truly believe that there aren’t any “mistakes” born on this planet. We were given our talents and our personalities for a purpose, and I also believe that God provides us companions for the journey.
So, hang in there, even if you’re a little different, like I am. If you’d like to connect, come find me on Facebook, or on my website at patriciajohnsromance.com. I’d love to hear from you!
Patricia
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Loving Her Amish Neighbor
by Rebecca Kertz
Chapter One
Late springtime, New Berne,
Lancaster County, Pennsylvania
“You be a gut girl for your aunt,” Lucy Schwartz said as she lifted her four-year-old daughter into her arms for one last hug, something that was getting more difficult with her advancing pregnancy. “I’ll be back to get you after supper.”
“Why can’t I stay with you?” Susie blinked pretty pale blue eyes up at her, eyes so like her father’s—Lucy’s late husband.
“I have work to do, dochter,” she explained, her fingers caressing Susie’s cheek. “You’ll have more fun with Endie Nancy and your cousins.”
“Come on, Susie!” her cousin Sarah cried as, k
app strings flying, she ran toward their big red barn beyond their dirt driveway.
Susie wriggled to get down. “I’ll see you later, Mam.” Blue skirts flipping enough to show her sneakers, she ran after Nancy’s daughter. “Hold up, Sarah! I’m coming! Hold up!”
Lucy grinned as her child scampered off. “My Susie’s got energy, that’s for sure,” she said with a chuckle. She turned to her sister-in-law Nancy. “Danki for keeping her.”
Nancy smiled, watching as the two girls disappeared inside the barn before meeting Lucy’s gaze. “We love having her. You know we’re always here to help in any way we can.”
Blinking rapidly, Lucy nodded. “I appreciate it.” Her marriage to Nancy’s brother hadn’t been a happy one. Still, her sister-in-law had stepped up to help Lucy after Harley had passed on. Her relationship with Nancy had actually improved since Harley’s death.
“I need to go home, collect my baked goods and deliver them.”
“If you need us to keep her overnight, let us know,” Nancy said as she walked with Lucy toward her buggy.
Lucy nodded. “I will.” She heard wild cries of joy as Sarah and Susie ran out of the barn. Sarah had a rope wrapped around her waist while Susie held on to the ends behind her, urging her on. “I guess Sarah is the horse this morning,” she said with a chuckle.
Nancy laughed. “No doubt Susie will get her turn this afternoon.”
Lucy climbed into her buggy and picked up the leathers. “Is there anything you need from the store?”
“Nay, but I appreciate you asking.”
With a wave, Lucy left the property and headed home. She’d baked various cakes, cookies and pies yesterday and packaged them for sale this morning. There were enough for King’s General Store and Peter’s Pockets, a dessert shop that catered to tourists wanting a taste of Amish. It would be the perfect place to feature her bakery items.
As she steered the buggy, she thought about the changes in her life since she’d married Harley Schwartz, a widower. The union had been arranged by her father. At nineteen, she hadn’t wanted to marry, but her father had made it clear that she’d be left alone to fend for herself otherwise. And then her heart had melted after seeing Susie, Harley’s two-week-old daughter. Susie’s mother had died in childbirth, and the tiny babe had no mother to love and care for her. For Susie’s sake, Lucy had agreed to wed the baby’s father.
As if marriage hadn’t been enough of a change, Harley had taken her from her Amish community in Indiana and brought her to live in New Berne, Pennsylvania, where she knew no one. She’d been forced to leave her little brother Seth behind and she’d missed him terribly. She still did.
Eventually she and Harley had settled into a comfortable life. Harley had worked and supported them while Lucy kept house and took care of Susie, whom she adored.
A little over four years later, Harley died in a truck accident at his construction job. While their marriage hadn’t been ideal—Lucy had wanted more from it—Harley was a good man, and it was a tragedy for him to die at only twenty-nine years old.
The settlement money from Harley’s employer helped her make ends meet, but she knew the money wouldn’t last forever. With Harley gone five months now, Lucy had to earn a living to support Susie, her unborn child and herself. After Nancy asked her to bring sweets for Visiting Sunday last weekend, Lucy remembered how much her late husband had loved her cakes and pies. Her ability to bake had been the one thing Harley had raved about, and he’d never been one to give compliments to Lucy, the replacement for his beloved dead wife.
Selling baked goods seemed the best way for her to earn money and stay at home raising the children. With that in mind, Lucy had approached several local shops with samples of her baked sweets to pitch the idea of selling her wares on consignment. The shop owners had loved her bakery samples and were happy to do business with her. Today would be her first delivery of her sweets.
The day was bright and balmy, which made it a perfect morning for her errands. Lucy smiled as she passed horses galloping across the paddock of a nearby farm. The warm breeze caressed her face, bringing with it the scents of spring blossoms, new grass and farm animals.
As the steady clip-clop of her horse’s shoed hooves hit the pavement, Lucy wondered with a smile if Susie was enjoying herself. Was she playing hide-and-seek or tag with her cousins?
A car came up behind her, and Lucy moved onto the shoulder of the road to allow it to pass. She was just easing back into the lane when a sudden loud rev of an engine alerted her to another motor vehicle approaching from behind. She didn’t have time to move to the shoulder again, but instead, held tightly to the reins as she waited for it to pass. Something clipped the back of her buggy hard, startling her, and she cried out. Her mare whinnied and spooked before the animal took off, Lucy holding on for dear life. Her horse and buggy careened off the road and bounced along the embankment as the car zoomed past. Blackie’s flight jostled her vehicle. She held on to the leathers as she tried to calm her horse while her right side slammed against the side wall.
Reaching a hand out to brace herself, Lucy bumped her head and felt a jolt along her arm as her buggy jerked and dipped before finally coming to a complete stop in a ditch, tilting to one side. Grabbing the dashboard, she looked up through the windshield. The driver of the black car had sped off, either not caring or not realizing that he’d left the scene of the accident he’d caused.
She took a deep breath, let go of the dash and wrapped the leather reins around her left hand. Her head ached, and pain throbbed down her right side. Lucy cradled her swollen belly with her right hand, gasping with the movement, but the ache in her wrist quickly eased. “We’re oll recht, bubbel.” She felt no twinges along her abdomen. “You and I are going to be fine.”
She had to get out of the buggy. She tried to open the door on her side so she could slide out through the opening but there was no room. And if the vehicle toppled over, she and her baby would be crushed.
She needed help but had no way to call anyone. Some Amish in the country had cell phones for work or emergencies, but it was a luxury Harley had told her they couldn’t afford.
Her only hope was for someone to drive by, see her predicament and stop to help.
Lucy closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer to the Lord for assistance.
She finished with an “amen” and pressed her fingertips to the place on her head she’d been injured. She was startled when her hand came away with blood. Her distress intensified as she worked to figure out her next move. She checked her surroundings, moving carefully so as not to shift the buggy. Blackie stood, seemingly unhurt, still attached to her vehicle. At least her buggy was far enough off the road to avoid being hit again. Thank You, Lord.
Lucy frowned. Now what was she going to do? She reevaluated her injuries. Except for a slight headache and the few areas on her side that ached, the only other thing she felt was a throbbing pain along her right arm down through her wrist. She didn’t think her injuries were serious. As long as her baby was all right...
Heart beating wildly, she breathed deeply to calm herself then sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Susie was safe with Nancy. Until someone happened along, the only thing she could do was wait. She leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed, praying that her injuries were mild and help would come soon.
The clip-clop of horse hooves on the road behind her caught her attention. Lucy opened her eyes. The sound stopped. Had she imagined it? She prayed that she hadn’t.
“Hallo?” a man’s voice asked from the street side of the carriage.
Relief hit her hard. Someone had stopped to help. She hadn’t imagined the sound of another buggy. She sensed his presence before he appeared at the open window.
His gaze sharpened as he looked inside. “Are you oll recht?”
“I think so.” Lucy met the man’s gaze as he assessed her condition, h
is expression filled with concern. He was Amish with dark hair under his straw hat, brown eyes, and a jagged, raised scar across his left cheek. She tried not to stare, focusing instead on the solid maroon color of his long-sleeved shirt and black suspenders that reached over each shoulder.
“I’m Gabriel Fisher. What’s your name?”
“Lucy,” she said. “Lucy Schwartz.”
“Lucy,” he said calmly, “I’m going to help you.”
She met his concerned gaze. “Danki.”
“What hurts?”
“Mostly my head and arm.” She touched a hand to the side of her head again and saw more blood on her fingers. “I’m bleeding.” She swallowed hard as she let go of the reins to rub her belly with her left hand.
He lowered his gaze to where she cradled her abdomen. “Try not to move,” he commanded, but his tone was gentle. “Anything else hurt?”
“My right side.”
Gabriel nodded. “I need to get you to a doctor.”
“I thought about climbing out, but I was afraid the buggy would move and crush me.”
“Ja, it looks unstable but I can fix that. Hold on.”
She closed her eyes. Why did she feel so tired? Because of her pregnancy or an injury? Lucy wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest. This past year, with her husband’s death and with all that had come afterward, had taken a toll.
She no longer heard Gabriel’s voice. Her eyes shot open and she looked to where he’d stood. He was gone. Her throat tightened as she started to panic, and she struggled to breathe evenly. “Gabriel?”
Silence.
“Gabriel!”
“I’m here.” His voice sounded muffled, as if he lay under her vehicle. “I’m checking the damage to your buggy.” His head popped up again in the window on the street side.
“Blackie? My mare? Is she oll recht?”
“Amazingly, ja.” His smile was soft, reassuring. “I’m going to unhitch her and secure her to my buggy. Ja?”
Wife on His Doorstep Page 18