by Beth Wiseman
ACCLAIM FOR BETH WISEMAN
THE PROMISE
“The story of Mallory in The Promise uncovers the harsh reality American women can experience when they follow their hearts into a very different culture. Her story sheds light on how Islamic society is totally different from the Christian marriage covenant between one man and one woman. This novel is based on actual events, and Beth reached out to me during that time. It was heartbreaking to watch those real-life events unfolding. I salute the author’s courage, persistence, and final triumph in writing a revealing and inspiring story.”
—Nonie Darwish, author of The Devil We Don’t Know, Cruel and Usual Punishment, and Now They Call Me Infidel
“The Promise is an only too realistic depiction of an American young woman motivated by the best humanitarian impulses and naïve trust facing instead betrayal, kidnapping, and life-threatening danger in Pakistan’s lawless Pashtun tribal regions. But the story offers as well a reminder just as realistic that love and sacrifice are never wasted and that the hope of a loving heavenly Father is never absent in the most hopeless of situations.”
—Jeanette Windle, author of Veiled Freedom (2010 ECPA Christian Book Award/Christy Award finalist), Freedom’s Stand (2012 ECPA Christian Book Award/Carol Award finalist), and Congo Dawn (2013 Golden Scroll Novel of the Year)
THE HOUSE THAT LOVE BUILT
“This sweet story with a hint of mystery is touching and emotional. Humor sprinkled throughout balances the occasional seriousness. The development of the love story is paced perfectly so that the reader gets a real sense of the characters.”
—Romantic Times, 4-star review
“[The House that Love Built] is a warm, sweet tale of faith renewed and families restored.”
—BookPage
NEED YOU NOW
“Wiseman, best known for her series of Amish novels, branches out into a wider world in this story of family, dependence, faith, and small-town Texas, offering a character for every reader to relate to . . . With an enjoyable cast of outside characters, Need You Now breaks the molds of small-town stereotypes. With issues ranging from special education and teen cutting to what makes a marriage strong, this is a compelling and worthy read.”
—Booklist
“Wiseman gets to the heart of marriage and family interests in a way that will resonate with readers, with an intricately written plot featuring elements that seem to be ripped from current headlines. God provides hope for Wiseman’s characters even in the most desperate situations.”
—Romantic Times, 4-star review
“You may think you are familiar with Beth’s wonderful story-telling gift but this is something new! This is a story that will stay with you for a long, long time. It’s a story of hope when life seems hopeless. It’s a story of how God can redeem the seemingly unredeemable. It’s a message the Church, the world needs to hear.”
—Sheila Walsh, author of God Loves Broken People
“Beth Wiseman tackles these difficult subjects with courage and grace. She reminds us that true healing can only come by being vulnerable and honest before our God who loves us more than anything.”
—Deborah Bedford, bestselling author of His Other Wife, A Rose by the Door, and The Penny (coauthored with Joyce Meyer)
THE LAND OF CANAAN NOVELS
“Wiseman’s voice is consistently compassionate and her words flow smoothly.”
—Publishers Weekly review of Seek Me with All Your Heart
“Wiseman’s third Land of Canaan novel overflows with romance, broken promises, a modern knight in shining armor, and hope at the end of the rainbow.”
—Romantic Times
“In Seek Me with All Your Heart, Beth Wiseman offers readers a heartwarming story filled with complex characters and deep emotion. I instantly loved Emily, and eagerly turned each page, anxious to learn more about her past—and what future the Lord had in store for her.”
—Shelley Shepard Gray, bestselling author of the Seasons of Sugarcreek series
“Wiseman has done it again! Beautifully compelling, Seek Me with All Your Heart is a heartwarming story of faith, family, and renewal. Her characters and descriptions are captivating, bringing the story to life with the turn of every page.”
—Amy Clipston, bestselling author of A Gift of Grace
THE DAUGHTERS OF THE PROMISE NOVELS
“Well-defined characters and story make for an enjoyable read.”
—Romantic Times review of Plain Pursuit
“A touching, heartwarming story. Wiseman does a particularly great job of dealing with shunning, a controversial Amish practice that seems cruel and unnecessary to outsiders . . . If you’re a fan of Amish fiction, don’t miss Plain Pursuit!”
—Kathleen Fuller, author of The Middlefield Family novels
ALSO BY BETH WISEMAN
THE DAUGHTERS OF THE PROMISE NOVELS
Plain Perfect
Plain Pursuit
Plain Promise
Plain Paradise
Plain Proposal
Plain Peace
THE LAND OF CANAAN NOVELS
Seek Me with All Your Heart
The Wonder of Your Love
His Love Endures Forever
OTHER NOVELS
Need You Now
The House that Love Built
The Promise
Copyright © 2015 by Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.
The book Pennsylvania German Dictionary: English to Pennsylvania Dutch by C. Richard Beam is referenced in this novel.
Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-4016-8600-0 (eBook)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wiseman, Beth, 1962-
Her brother's keeper / Beth Wiseman.
pages ; cm -- (An Amish secrets novel ; book 1)
ISBN 978-1-4016-8596-6 (softcover)
1. Amish--Fiction. I. Title.
PS3623.I83H47 2015
813'.6--dc23
2015002002
15 16 17 18 19 20 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1
To Karen and Tommy Brasher
CONTENTS
Pennsylvania Dutch Glossary
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
About the Author
PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH GLOSSARY
aamen—amen
ab im kopp—off in the head; crazy
ach—oh
aenti—aunt
baremlich—terrible
boppli—baby or babies
bruder—brother
daadi haus—grandparents’ house, usually a smaller dwelling on the same property
daed—dad
danki—thank you
die Botschaft—The Message
Englisch—a non-Amish person
fraa—wife
gut—good
haus—house
kaffi—coffee
kapp—prayer covering or cap
kinner—children
maedel—girl
mamm—mom
mammi—grandmother
mei—my
meidung—shunning
mudder—mother
nee—no
Ordnung—the written and unwritten rules of the Amish; the understood behavior by which the Amish are expected to live, passed down from generation to generation. Most Amish know the rules by heart.
Pennsylvania Deitsch—the language most commonly used by the Amish. Although commonly known as Pennsylvania Dutch, the language is actually a form of German (Deutsch).
rumschpringe—running-around period when a teenager turns sixteen years old
sohn—son
wie bischt—How are you?
ya—yes
yummasetti—a traditional Pennsylvania Dutch casserole
Dear Ethan,
My therapist said that I should write you letters in an effort to process my grief. I don’t know if it will help or not, but I’m willing to give this a try since I can’t seem to move forward without knowing what happened to you. My heart is shattered.
I’ve sent letters to Hannah, and while your fiancée did write me back, her notes were brief and offered no explanation. None of my phone calls were answered or returned either. Since I’m not getting any answers, I’ve decided to spend some time in Lancaster County, to live among the Amish, as one of them. Yes, it’s deceitful, but I have to know the truth. From what I’ve read about the Amish, they aren’t very trusting and aren’t fond of outsiders. Maybe this is why, after you became a member of their group, you detached yourself from the people who love you. Either way, I’m not above playing dress-up and telling a few lies to find out what happened to my only brother.
Even as I write this, ten months later, my grief overtakes me. Ethan, I miss you every single day. I don’t know if the Plain People in Pennsylvania lured you into their world, twisted your thoughts, or what, but the Ethan I know is a survivor, a fighter. We had both been through so much, and yet . . . we lived to tell about it. We survived. What happened, Ethan?
Rest in peace, my beloved brother. I, on the other hand, won’t rest until I know the truth.
Char
One
Charlotte watched the taxi until it was out of sight, then she left her luggage on the sidewalk and made her way up the steps leading to the porch of the farmhouse. Two side-by-side front doors stood open, and through the screens, the aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted outside. She took a deep breath. Based on her research, the Amish people knew how to cook, so that would be a perk while she was here.
She smoothed the wrinkles from her plain blue dress, put her sunglasses in the pocket of her black apron, and tucked a few loose strands of blond hair beneath the prayer covering she was wearing. Shaking her head, she eyed the black loafers and black socks that rose to just above her ankles, knowing she wouldn’t win any fashion awards in this getup. She jumped when she heard footsteps, then took a step back when a woman about her mother’s age pushed the screen open and said, “You must be Mary.” The Amish woman put her hands on full hips, smiled broadly, and extended her hand.
Charlotte nodded, acknowledging the name she’d chosen to use while she was here—Mary Troyer. “Lena?”
“Ya, ya. I’m Lena King.” She looked past Charlotte, raised a hand to her forehead, and peered. “Ach, mei. A lot of suitcases, ya?”
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at the three suitcases. “Yes, I guess so.” She fought to mask the tremble in her voice, reminding herself to use the little bit of Pennsylvania Dutch she’d learned. “Ya. Ya. A month is a long time.” She doubted she would stay anywhere near that long, but that’s what Lena had insisted on via the letters they’d exchanged, so Charlotte had packed accordingly, just in case.
Lena scurried past her and quickly latched on to two of the suitcases. “Let’s get these inside and get you settled. We are just so thrilled to find out that we have cousins down in Texas.” She grunted a little as she carried the luggage. Charlotte grabbed the third one and followed her. “We’d heard rumor that there were Amish folks in Beeville, Texas, but to find our kin there . . . well, just so gut to know, even if it is cousins several times removed.”
Charlotte recalled finding the small group of Amish people who had migrated to Texas from Tennessee. She’d built her secret identity based on information she’d gathered by spending time with them, and they’d directed her to a resale shop where she’d purchased her Amish clothes. They’d been nice enough, if not a bit suspicious about all of Charlotte’s questions.
Lena set the suitcases on the landing below the staircase, so Charlotte did the same with hers.
“Jacob can haul these upstairs when he gets home.” Lena smiled again. Charlotte knew Lena was referring to her sixteen-year-old son. “You must be hungry from your travels. Come, come.” She motioned for Charlotte to follow, and once in the kitchen, Lena pulled out a chair at the head of the table. Before them lay enough food to feed an army.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I made chicken salad, tuna salad, and egg salad.” She pointed to three more bowls on Charlotte’s right. “That’s barbequed meatballs, cheddar meat loaf, and my special chicken casserole.” She pressed her palms together and then pointed to the middle of the table. “That’s bread I made this morning, and to the left is apple butter. Chowchow is in the other bowl.” She spun around, rattled off something in her native language, then returned with a glass she set in front of Charlotte. This was going to be an area of concern, her inability to understand or speak much of the dialect, which she’d read was an offshoot of German. She offered up the best smile she could, hoping to fake her way through the conversation.
“Everything looks very . . . gut.” She’d learned a handful of words most commonly used by the women in Beeville. She’d camped out at a nearby hotel and visited the farmers’ market daily for a couple of weeks in an effort to gain information. The women sold canned goods and homemade crafts. Charlotte always bought several jars of jams and jellies as unspoken payment for their help. She figured she had enough jellies for the next several years, but it had been worth it for the valuable information.
“I hoped that everyone could be here to welcome you, but it just didn’t work out.” Lena sighed as she sat down to Charlotte’s left. “After dinner, you should rest. Tomorrow, Hannah and I are adding to the flower beds. We like to spruce things up with Tiger Eyes every August. They only bloom for about eleven weeks, but they are always a nice addition when some of our perennials finish blooming.”
Charlotte stiffened at the mention of Lena’s daughter, Hannah, but cleared her throat with a slight cough. “Hannah’s a couple of years younger than me, right? Twenty-three or twenty-four?”
Lena nodded. “Ya. She’s twenty-four.”
That seemed old to still be living at home.
“Hannah had wanted to be here, but Widow Hostetler called and needed someone to cart her to the doctor. She doesn’t drive her buggy anymore.” Lena chuckled. “And we are all safer on the streets because of that.”
Charlotte bowed her head when Lena did. The Amish prayed silently before every meal, so Charlotte sat quietly with her eyes closed and waited.
“Did you say Widow Hostetler called?” Charlotte had seen the women in Beeville using cell phones, but she wanted clarification that she’d be able to use her phone while she was here. It was Charlotte’s
understanding that some Amish districts allowed the use of cell phones, while others did not.
“Ya, our bishop allows portable telephone calls for emergencies.” She winked at Charlotte. “Funny how many emergencies pop up.” Lena frowned. “Oh, nee. Are you against the use of mobile telephones? Or does your district allow it?”
Charlotte swallowed a bite of bread, the tastiest she’d ever had. “Yeah.” She paused, kicking herself again. “Ya. We are allowed phones.” Lena handed Charlotte the bowl of chicken salad and Charlotte spooned a small amount onto her plate. Then she got two meatballs and a small scoop of chicken casserole.
“I hope you’ll eat more than that.” Lena sat taller, her eyes wide. “That’s not enough to feed a bird.”
To Charlotte, it looked like a ton, so she was a bit taken aback and not sure how to respond. “I-I’ve had a stomach bug recently.” One more lie to add to the collection.
Lena clicked her tongue a couple of times. “We’ve had something going around here too. Hannah took sick last week.”
Charlotte tensed again, knowing she would have to stop reacting every time Hannah’s name was mentioned, but she couldn’t shake the idea that maybe Ethan’s fiancée had something to do with his death. Or at the least, knew why her brother had killed himself.
“Save room for dessert,” Lena said as she motioned toward a chocolate pie at the far end of the table.
Charlotte fought a yawn before she nodded. She wasn’t sure how she’d eat one more bite, and for a brief moment, guilt nipped at her for enjoying the food so much. She forced the thought aside and decided her lies were justified.
Lena excused herself to the bathroom, so Charlotte took a good look around at the modest surroundings. The table was in the middle of a large kitchen, and as she ran her hand along the table’s edge, she took note of the fine craftsmanship. Eight oak chairs were around the table. On the counters were canisters, paper towels, a pitcher of tea, and a platter of cookies. Nothing decorative.
Charlotte took her napkin and dabbed at the sweat beads on her forehead. In Texas it would be unheard of not to have air conditioning. She doubted it got as warm here, but she was already dreading her time here without it. At least she didn’t have to worry about her makeup running down her face since her role as a well-bred Amish woman didn’t include cosmetics. She glanced at the back of her hands and recalled having the nail tech remove her gel fingernails and file them short.