by Eli Easton
“Do you?” Amy blushed and patted her short bob haircut. “I figured any man who wants to date me is going to have to be open-minded, so the hair is a first test. If he can’t get past that, he’s automatically disqualified.” She laughed, but it was a nervous sound.
“You look… beautiful.” David put his arm around her shoulders. “Your hair looks thick and healthy like this too.”
“It’s perfect,” said Christie.
“It looks good, Am,” Joe agreed.
David felt a twinge of guilt. Amy and Joe were still going to the Mennonite church, but Joe was no longer dating Amanda. He didn’t tell David all the details, but David figured having a gay father had something to do with it. As for Amy… she seemed to be questioning a lot of things these days. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Thanks again for coming,” David told them both sincerely. For giving us a chance.
“Of course!” Amy said brightly. “We had to see the new place. And I want to hear all about your job and everything, Dad.” She smiled at Christie. It was a bit tentative, but it was a smile.
“Anyone want a drink?” Christie asked. “We’ve got milk, Coke, apple cider, or wine. I hope you guys are hungry because I made way too much food.”
“It smells good,” Joe told Christie, looking right at him.
Christie swallowed. “Thanks, Joe.”
“I’ll help you get drinks.” Amy took Christie’s arm and they went into the kitchen.
When Joe and David were alone, Joe held out his hand. David was surprised, but he shook it.
“It’s good to see you, Dad.”
“You too. I appreciate this. I know it’s not easy to accept the situation given your beliefs.”
Joe nodded, looking away. “No. But you already know everything I’d say, anyhow, so I need to leave it up to you and Christie and God. We’re still family.”
David felt a dense ache in his chest, but he nodded. “Okay.”
“Actually I wanted to talk to you about something. You know I did that mission trip to Sweden last summer. Well, there may be an opportunity to do a pastoral internship over there for a year. I’m seriously considering it.”
“That’s fantastic, Joe. Living abroad would be a great experience.”
“Yeah. They have some different ideas over there, that’s for sure. I’ve been praying about it a lot, and I think it would be good for me to spend some time there.”
David knew which “different” ideas Joe was talking about. The Swedish Mennonite church had embraced gay marriage, in part due to the law. Gay marriage was legal in Sweden, and it was illegal for churches to discriminate against it. But the Mennonite leaders there had accepted the change with grace and had a much more loving and tolerant view of homosexuality than did their brethren in the US.
“I’m very glad to hear it. I always believed nothing true can be threatened by expanding your horizons. God gave us a brain for a reason.” Even if it took me a long time to start using mine.
Joe blinked at him for a moment, then changed the subject. “Dinner smells good. I guess you’re still enjoying Christie’s cooking?”
“Oh yeah. Do you like Indian food?”
“I’ll try it.”
David clapped him on the back. “Thanks, Joe. You’re in for a treat.”
After a delicious dinner, they all took the subway downtown. Christie led them to the least crazy areas of Times Square that still had a view of the ball. They had thermoses of hot cocoa, and the weather was a relatively balmy forty degrees. And when they counted down to the New Year, David took Christie into his arms and kissed him. He felt nothing but joy.
It wasn’t just a new year for him; it was a whole new life. He was incredibly grateful.
THE END
BONUS: Cookie Recipe
Cherry Date Cookies
My mother used to make these cookies, so it’s only right they are the first things Christie makes for David.
3 1/2 c white flour, sifted
2 c light-brown sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 c butter, softened
1/2 c buttermilk
2 c dates, chopped
1 c maraschino cherries, chopped
1 c walnuts, chopped
Optionally you can add ¼ c of coconut flakes
Preheat the oven to 350F.
In a bowl stir together the flour, salt, and baking soda. In a separate bowl, combine the butter, brown sugar, and eggs, and mix until everything is incorporated and the mix turns light and fluffy.
Mix together the flour mixture and butter/sugar mixture until well combined, and then add the buttermilk. Stir in the dates, nuts, and cherry pieces.
Spoon drop the cookie dough onto a greased or Teflon cookie sheet, leaving at least 1.5” between drops. Bake 12-15 minutes. Cookies should be lightly browned. Don’t forget they are in the oven.
BONUS: Tender Mercies Sample
The second book in the Men of Lancaster County series is called Tender Mercies. Enjoy this sample chapter.
Sample Chapter (Chapter 2)
“What the devil are you doing?” Father’s voice boomed through the hayloft, frightening Samuel half to death. He was looking out the window with his back to the ladder, and he hurriedly did up the flap on his britches. He’d barely closed the buttons before his father was there, shouldering Samuel aside and peering out the window.
Humiliated, Samuel stepped back, his heart sinking. Oh Lord, please don’t let him see.
But his father did see, and he understood. When he turned from the window, the stern, bearded face was set hard, and his eyes burned. “You have a sick, filthy soul!”
“No, Da! I was only lookin’ at the sky.”
“Liar! Don’t make your sin worse by lyin’ to my face!”
“Da….”
“Don’t you move! Not one inch!”
Father moved swiftly to the hayloft ladder and climbed down to the main floor of the barn. Samuel knew he would return, and when he did, Samuel would be in for a world of hurt. He was nineteen years old, for land’s sake, and he hadn’t had a beating since he was fourteen. He avoided them by staying quiet and doing what he was told. But this…. He was in terrible bad trouble.
It was bad enough Samuel’s father caught him touching himself. But that would likely warrant extra Bible study, not a whipping. What was worse was Samuel did it while looking out over a field. The only point of interest in the field below was their neighbor, young and handsome John Snyder, who was out there working a plow. His body was strong, and his muscles bunched under his white sweat-slicked shirt…. Even now the memory of the sight caused eddies of arousal to swirl amidst the fear in Samuel’s belly.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been caught at something like this either. He was found behind the schoolhouse with a boy when he was fourteen, their hands down each other’s pants when the boy’s father came around the corner. Samuel was driven home, and the man talked solemnly to his father. Samuel got the worst beating of his life that night. But he promised his father it was the only time he’d ever done anything like that, and it was mere curiosity, not his nature. He’d lied.
In the years since, that incident had eroded away his relationship with his father like rot in the foundations. Samuel sometimes looked up to find Da staring at him, suspicion and worry in his eyes. But Samuel ignored it, tried to prove he was a good worker, that he was an honorable man, that physical desire of any kind was not part of his makeup. Now one glance out the window had sparked those long-buried doubts in his father’s mind, and all those years of hiding lay crumbled to dust at Samuel’s feet.
His belly crawled with shame and self-loathing. Why did he do these things? Why did this desire torment him so? What was wrong with him? He was a grown man. He shouldn’t still be getting beatings from his father, shouldn’t be doing the kind of furtive, shameful acts that deserved them.
His father came back up t
he ladder. “Take your shirt off!” he ordered, his voice as dark and cold as a winter’s night.
Hands shaking, Samuel stood, pushed off his suspenders, and began to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were graceless, fear robbing them of their usual dexterity. There was nothing he could say that would convince his father now. Any lie would only make things worse.
He laid his shirt neatly on a bale of hay and turned his back obediently to his father. Maybe if he showed humility in this, his father would be appeased. His shoulder dipped as his bad foot made the maneuver of turning awkward. As he moved, he glimpsed the large switch in his father’s hand. His da kept a box of such switches in the barn, cut anew from green saplings from time to time. They were an excellent deterrent to his children but rarely saw use.
This was going to hurt. Bad. Samuel braced himself for pain. A few strokes, he told himself. Maybe three. Five at most. Then it would—
There was a faint whistling sound, and fire shot across his back. The pain was so sharp and fierce Samuel couldn’t stop a cry and a half step forward.
Before he could begin to recover, another blow came, and another. He found himself half lying, propped up by the stacked hay bales and clinging to their rough surface. There was unfettered fury in the blows that rained down upon him. His da held nothing back, striking Samuel with all his might again and again.
Samuel lost count of the blows. His cries came in a steady stream of agony and pleas. The fire in his back turned sharp and cutting as skin bruised, swelled, and broke open under the assault like a melon left to rot in the field. He felt blood trickle down his back. He twisted but couldn’t escape the cruel lashes or the clouding effect of shock and pain.
Oh dear Lord in heaven, help me.
Through the fog of agony, he heard his father’s ranting voice. “Shoulda known! That foot of yours is a sign from God about the sick, twisted nature of your soul! Your foot’s not the abomination! You are! You lying, lustful, sick, devil-ridden….”
“Da, stop it!” It was Matthew’s voice, urgent. “Da, please stop! You’ll kill him!”
“Stay out of it!” His father shouted.
“I’m gettin’ Ma. Ma! Ma!” Matthew was eighteen and the only one of Samuel’s siblings he had any true closeness with. He heard Matthew’s voice grow faint. Matthew would get mother. She would stop this, stay his father’s hand. She had to. Please, Lord.
But the blows had already stopped, Samuel realized. The only sound was his father’s harsh panting. The fear-fueled adrenaline that had kept Samuel mostly upright now vanished, leaving him exhausted, his senses overwhelmed with pain. He dropped his head into his arms, still propped on the hay bales, and sobbed. They were big, wracking noises he couldn’t contain.
His father gripped his bicep firmly and tugged him upright. “Get to your feet. Now, boy!”
Samuel stood, shakily, and wiped at his eyes. He was ashamed of the tears, but he couldn’t seem to stop them.
“You listen to me! You will go down that ladder and walk to the road, and you jus’ keep on walkin’. I don’t want you on this farm no more. Because if I catch you sinnin’ again, I can’t answer for what I’ll do. And I don’t need that on my conscience. Do you understand me?”
Samuel hitched in a breath and stared at his father in disbelief. He wiped a sleeve over his eyes again as if he couldn’t trust his own senses. “But… but Da….”
“I mean it!” His father’s face, his voice, were flat and merciless. “Take your coat and hat and be gone with ye. Here.” His father dropped the switch, fished out his wallet, his mouth set in a white line, and took out a bunch of twenty-dollar bills. He shoved them into Samuel’s hand. “Take this and don’t never come back! I wash my hands of you.”
Da turned and went down the ladder, not looking at Samuel again.
Samuel’s ears were buzzing. His back throbbed and stung like it had been run through a thresher. His head swam. Nothing felt real, and yet surely this was too awful to be a dream. Surely the dream world was not so stark nor so cruel. He picked up his shirt and his black wool coat and black hat from where he’d lain it to the side earlier, before his world commenced to shatter. He stood for a moment, holding the clothes. He didn’t want to put the shirt on. It was white, and it would quickly stain with the blood he felt on his skin. But he couldn’t very well go walking down the road in March half-naked.
He put the shirt on, breathing through the pain as the movement stretched tortured skin. Then he put on his coat and placed the hat on his head, smoothing his long hair behind his ears with shaking fingers. He wiped the tears and snot from his face, swallowed the ache in his throat, and gingerly climbed down the ladder. The rough wood of the rungs felt too solid under his palms, the moment too important. I’ve climbed this ladder a million times since I was a little ’un. I’ll never climb it again.
When he reached the driveway, he looked back at the farmhouse . He expected to see his mother or Matthew or Eliza, anyone. Surely someone would come out to say Where are you going, Samuel? What’s wrong? We’ll talk Da ’round, you’ll see. But there was no sound from the house, and no movement except the flutter of a curtain as someone stepped back away from the window.
Da was keeping them inside. He wouldn’t let them come.
Your foot’s not the abomination! You are!
His heart shrank in his chest, withdrawing into the furthest reaches of his rib cage like an abused dog hiding in a doghouse . Abomination. He’d been cast out, sure to be shunned by the bishop. His family, Ma, Matthew, Jane, Sarah, Eliza, all his older brothers and sisters, cousins… they were all lost to him. He had nothing and no one. Dazed and in shock, Samuel turned and walked to the road. His normally mild limp, caused by his twisted foot, was exaggerated due to the agony of his back. He pathetically swung from side to side.
He turned right at the end of the driveway. And he kept walking.
Read more about Tender Mercies on the author’s site. (https://www.elieaston.com/men-of-lancaster-county)
Dear Reader
Thank you for reading this romance and sharing a quiet (and virtual) meal with David and Christie. I wrote the two Men of Lancaster County books while living in Lancaster County, PA. I was inspired by the beautiful lush countryside, the rolling hills, the old barns and farmhouses, and the many small family farms in the area. I hope I was able to convey just a little of it’s charm.
As always, I very much appreciate my readers posting recommendations for my books on social media and reviewing on Amazon and Goodreads. Thank you! Your reviews truly make a difference in drawing other readers and that helps me continue writing full time.
I appreciate my readers so much. It is awesome to hear from you and to know that I made someone smile or sigh. Feel free to email me: [email protected].
You can also visit my website: www.elieaston.com. I have first chapters up for all my books and some free stories too. And you can sign up for my newsletter to get a monthly email about new releases and sales.
My facebook group is a place to chat about Eli stories and get opportunity to read ARCs, excerpts from works-in-progress, and other goodies.
Follow me on Amazon to be alerted of my new books.
I can promise you there will always be happy ending and that love is love.
Eli Easton
Men of Lancaster County Series
The Men of Lancaster County series features gay romances set in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, a rural farming area with a large Amish and Mennonite community.
A Second Harvest – Mennonite farmer David Fisher, now widowed, believes his life is over before he’s even hit 50. His kids grown, he runs his family farm by himself. But when a handsome young man from the city inherits the little house next door, and begins cooking for both of them, their friendship opens doors inside David he never knew existed.
Tender Mercies -Young Samuel Miller is shunned by his Amish family when they discover his secret desire for men. Alone and without any resources, he answers an a
d for a farm hand. Eddie Graber bought a Pennsylvania farm to start a farm sanctuary. But his boyfriend backs out, leaving him in dire financial straits. Samuel and Eddie come from different worlds, but they have a lot to teach each other about love, faith, and the healing power of mercy.
Read more about these books and check out the free first chapters at: https://www.elieaston.com/men-of-lancaster-county
Also by Eli Easton
Boy Shattered
Superhero
Puzzle Me This
The Trouble With Tony (Sex in Seattle #1)
The Enlightenment of Daniel (Sex in Seattle #2)
The Mating of Michael (Sex in Seattle #3)
The Redemption of River (Sex in Seattle #4)
A Second Harvest (Men of Lancaster County #1)
Tender Mercies (Men of Lancaster County #2)
A Prairie Dog’s Love Song
Heaven Can’t Wait
The Lion and the Crow
Five Dares
Robby Riverton: Mail Order Bride
How to Howl at the Moon (Howl at the Moon #1)
How to Walk like a Man (Howl at the Moon #2)
How to Wish Upon a Star (Howl at the Moon #3)
How to Save a Life (Howl at the Moon #4)
How to Run with the Wolves (Howl at the Moon #5)
Before I Wake
Blame it on the Mistletoe
Unwrapping Hank
Midwinter Night’s Dream
Merry Christmas, Mr. Miggles
Desperately Seeking Santa
Christmas Angel
Family Camp (Daddy Dearest #1)
Angels Sing (Daddy Dearest #2)
The Stolen Suitor
Snowblind
www.elieaston.com
About the Author
ELI EASTON has been at various times and under different names a preacher’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, an organic farmer, and a profound sleeper. She has been writing m/m romance since 2013.