by Amy Clipston
“Have they determined the cause?” she asked.
“Ya.” He sighed. “Silas’s table saw caught fire. When he tried to stop it, he panicked and knocked over a kerosene lamp. The lamp hit the floor, ignited an oily rag, and caused the explosion. Peter was trying to help Silas.” His voice was thick.
He cleared his throat and shook his head. “It’s all so unreal. Dat and Milton built that place with their bare hands before I was even born.”
“I’m so sorry.” She took his hands in hers and squeezed them. “With God’s help, we’ll get through this.”
He squatted before her, lowering his face to hers, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a sad smile. “Ya, Becky. You’re right. It’s been a crazy couple of months, no?”
“Ya,” Rebecca said. “But Lindsay is doing well. She’s a blessing at the bakery.”
“Have you heard from Jessica?” he asked.
“Ya. I talked to Trisha yesterday. Jessica’s foot is healing well, and she’s connected with some old friends. She’s very happy. We made the right decision letting her stay in Virginia.”
“Gut.” He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and then leaned forward. His warm lips brushed hers, sending the pit of her belly into a wild swirl. He suddenly broke the kiss. Sitting back on his heels, he studied her, the intensity in his eyes making her mouth dry.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“Beauty is vanity,” she whispered.
“Ya.” He laughed. “But you still are.”
She sucked in breath, wondering if now was the time to share the news.
“What’s on your mind, Becky?” He squeezed her hands. “You need to open up to me, not let things fester. We both know what silence can bring.”
She nodded and licked her lips. “I have something to tell you, but I’m not sure if now is the time.” Self-doubt robbed her confidence. She looked down and fingered her nightgown to avoid his probing stare.
“Please tell me. I promise I’ll listen.” He pushed another lock of hair back, and she breathed in his fresh scent when she met his gaze.
“We’re going to have a baby, Daniel. We’re going to have our own baby.”
His eyes widened. “What did you say?”
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
Gasping, he stood, took her hands, and lifted her to her feet. “We’re going to have a baby?”
“Ya. It’s a miracle!” She laughed as he picked her up and spun her around.
“This is a wunderbar miracle! A blessing!” His grin glowed in the flicker of the kerosene lamp. “How long have you known?” he asked, still keeping his hands around her waist.
“Beth Anne insisted I take a test yesterday, and it was positive. I plan to see the midwife next week.” Her smile faded.
“I was afraid to tell you since the funeral was today. I didn’t feel right celebrating our news when Sarah has so much sorrow.” She drew imaginary circles on his hard chest.
He lifted her chin so their eyes met. “Mei Fraa, you should never be afraid to tell me anything. I’ll always listen. Always.”
His lips met hers again, and she closed her eyes, losing herself in his touch.
Epilogue
Sarah moved back and forth on the porch swing and stared out over her father’s vast fields while idly caressing her rounded belly with her hand. The past few days had been a nightmarish blur.
In a less than a week, the life she’d known and loved had been turned upside down. She’d cried so much that her body was now a hollow shell of the woman she’d once been.
She used to dream of the future with her husband, Peter. Now she wondered how she’d get through tomorrow without even a thought for next week.
Glancing up at the sky, she studied the gray clouds forming in the distance.
The screen door opened and slammed against the house with a loud bang, causing her to jump. Sarah kept her eyes locked on the fields while a light breeze kissed her face. Footsteps clomped across the porch, and the swing shook as her mamm lowered herself down beside her. The swing moved in silence for several minutes.
“Sarah Rose,” her mother whispered, squeezing her hand. “Your father and I are glad you agreed to stay here.”
Sucking in a breath, Sarah nodded and continued to rub her belly. “It seems the only way we’ll make it.”
“We’ll get through this, Sarah Rose,” Mamm said, squeezing her hand again. “I promise you.”
“I just don’t see how.”
Mamm continued to hold her hand. “I know it’s hard to accept that he’s gone. It doesn’t seem real. But the Lord will be our strength. Like the verse the minister read from Isaiah 60 last week—‘The Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.’ ”
A lump swelled in Sarah’s throat. “All I know is that Peter didn’t deserve to die. He was good and sweet and loving.” She hugged her belly in her hands. “He would’ve been a wonderful father. Now we’re alone.”
“You’re not alone. You have your family. We’ll all take care of you and the baby.”
“It’s not the same.” Sarah stared down at her lap. “My baby won’t have a father. How is that fair?”
“We’ll do the best we can to be there for you,” her mother whispered, her voice trembling. “I promise you that.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a mamm and a widow at the same time,” Sarah said. She cupped her hands over her mouth hoping to stifle a sob.
“Shh,” her mother pulled her close. “It’s okay, Sarah Rose. We’ll all help you through this.”
Closing her eyes, Sarah let her tears fall. While her mamm held her and rocked her, she wondered how she would find the strength to raise her baby without her beloved Peter.
Discussion Questions
1. Rebecca’s interpretation of “God’s will” changes throughout the book. She is so set on what she wants (having children) that she doesn’t look to God for further guidance. The answers to prayers are not always what we want or expect. Think about a time in your life when you misunderstood God’s will.
2. Rebecca and Daniel’s relationship is strained when the girls join their family. Is she listening to her husband? Are they partners in the decisions that are best for the household? Does their relationship grow and change throughout the book? If so, how?
3. Think about a time when you and your spouse or partner didn’t agree or listen to each other. What kind of strain did that put on your relationship? How did you work through it?
4. Is Jessica wrong to argue with Rebecca about her future? Is she a petulant teen, or a determined young girl?
5. Gossip, even in a community that is supposed to be Christlike, can hurt and lead to misunderstanding. Have you judged someone recently based on gossip or spread a rumor without knowing all the facts?
6. Read and reflect on Hebrews 11:1 (print out the verse). How does this verse relate to the story? Are you able to relate this verse to your life and experiences?
7. Which character can you identify with the most? Which character seemed to carry the most emotional stake in the story?
8. What did you know about the Amish before reading this book? What did you learn?
9. Reflect on Elizabeth’s favorite verse, Romans 12:12, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” What does this verse mean to you? How does it apply to your life?
10. What role does the bakery play in the family unit and community? Can you relate this to your life and your family traditions?
R B T T K A B . C S !EAD AN EXCERPT FROMOOKWO OFHEAUFFMANMISHAKERY SERIESOMINGOON
Smoke filled Sarah Troyer’s lungs and stung her watering eyes. Covering her mouth with her trembling hand, she fell to her knees while flames engulfed the large carpentry area of the Amish furniture store.
“Peter!” Her attempt to scream her husband’s name came out in a strangled cough, inaudible over the noise of the roaring fire surrounding her.
Pet
er was somewhere in the fire. She had to get to him. But how would she find her way through the flames? Had someone called 9–1—1? Where was the fire department?
A thunderous boom shook the floor beneath Sarah’s feet, causing her body to shake with fear. The roof must’ve collapsed!
“Sarah!” Peter’s voice echoed, hoarse and weak within the flames.
“I’m coming!” Sobs wracked Sarah’s body as she crawled toward the back of the shop. She would find him. She had to!
Turning her face toward the ceiling, Sarah begged God to spare her husband’s life. He had to live. She needed him. He was everything to her. They were going to be parents.
Their baby needed a father.
Standing, she threw her body into the flames, rushing toward the crumpled silhouette on the floor as the remaining ceiling came crashing down on top of them.
Sarah’s eyes flew open, and she gasped. She touched her sweat-drenched nightgown with her trembling hands. Closing her eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief.
It was a dream!
Stretching her arm through the dark, she reached for Peter. Instead, her hand brushed only the cool sheets next to her in the double bed.
Empty.
Sarah cupped a hand to her hot cheek while reality swept over her. Peter had died in the fire in her father’s furniture store three months ago. He was gone, and she was staying in her parents’ house.
Taking a deep, ragged breath, she swallowed a sob. She’d had the fire dream again, the fourth time this week.
When were the nightmares going to cease? When was life going to get easier?
She rested her hands on her swelling belly while tears streamed down her burning cheeks. It seemed like only yesterday Sarah was sharing the news of their blessing with Peter and he was smiling, his hazel eyes twinkling, while he pulled her close and kissed her.
It had been their dream to have a big family like most of the Amish couples in their church district. Sarah and Peter had spent many late nights snuggling in each other’s arms while talking about names. She’d wanted to name a daughter after her grandmother Rachel and a boy after Peter.
However, Sarah had buried those dreams along with her husband, and she still felt as bewildered as the day his body was laid to rest. She wondered how she’d ever find the emotional strength to raise her baby without the love and support of her beloved Peter.
She had believed since the day she married Peter that they would raise a large family and grow old together. But that ghastly fire stole everything from Sarah and her baby—their future and their stability.
Closing her eyes, she mentally repeated her mother’s favorite Scripture, Romans 12:12: “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”
However, the verse offered no comfort. She tried to pray, but the words didn’t form in her heart.
Sarah was numb.
She stared up through the dark until a light tap on her door roused her from her thoughts.
“Sarah Rose.” Her mother’s soft voice sounded through the closed door. “It’s time to get up.”
“Ya.” Wiping errant tears from her cheeks, Sarah rose and slowly dressed, pulling on her black dress, apron, and shoes. She then parted her golden hair and twirled long strands back from her face before winding the rest into a bun. Once her hair was tightly secured, she placed her white prayer Kapp over it, anchoring it with straight pins.
Sarah hurried down the stairs and met her mother in the front hall of the old farmhouse in which she’d been raised.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Mamm’s blue eyes studied her. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Nee.” Sarah headed for the back door. “Let’s go. I’ll eat later.”
“Sarah Rose. You must eat for the baby.” Mamm trotted after her.
“I’ll eat later. I’m not hungry.” Sarah headed to the family bakery adjacent to the big old house.
“Did you have the dream again?” Mamm’s voice was filled with concern.
Sarah sucked in a breath, hoping to curb the tears rising within her throat. “I’m just tired.” She started down the dirt driveway toward the bakery.
Mamm caught up with her. Taking Sarah’s hand in hers, she gave her a bereaved expression. “Sarah Rose, mei Lieb, how it breaks my heart to see you hurting. I want to help you through this. Please let me.”
Swallowing her threatening tears, Sarah stared down at her mother’s warm hand cradling hers. Grief crashed down on her, memories of Peter and their last quiet evening together flooding her. He had held her close while they discussed their future as parents.
Rehashing those memories was too painful for Sarah to bear. She missed him with every fiber of her being. She had to change the subject before she wound up sobbing in her mother’s arms.
“We best get to work before the girls think we overslept,” Sarah whispered, quickening her steps.
“Don’t forget this afternoon is your ultrasound appointment,” Mamm said. “Maybe we’ll find out if you’re having a boy or a girl. Nina Janitz is going to pick us up at two so we’re at the clinic on time.”
Sarah swallowed a groan at her mother’s words. The thought of facing this doctor’s appointment without Peter sharpened the pain that pulsated in her heart.
Pushing the thought aside, Sarah stared at the bakery Mamm had opened more than twenty years ago. Mamm prattled on about the weather and how busy the bakery had been since tourist season descended upon Bird-in-Hand. Sarah nodded.
After climbing the steps, Sarah and Mamm headed in through the back door of the bakery. The sweet aroma of freshly baked bread filled Sarah’s senses while the Pennsylvania Dutch chatter of her sisters swirled around her.
Nodding a greeting to her sisters, Sarah washed her hands before pulling out ingredients to begin mixing a batch of her favorite sugar cookies. She engrossed herself in the task and shut out the conversations around her.
“How are you?” Lindsay, her sister-in-law’s young niece, asked.
“Gut,” Sarah said, forcing a smile. “How are you today?”
“Gut, danki.” The fourteen-year-old smiled and her ivory complexion glowed. Although she’d been raised by non-Amish parents, Lindsay had adjusted well to the lifestyle.
When her parents had died in a car accident, Lindsay and her older sister had been left in the custody of her aunt Rebecca, Sarah’s sister-in-law. Lindsay had quickly adapted to the Amish way of life and was learning the Pennsylvania Dutch language as if she’d been born into the community.
Lindsay tilted her head in question and wrinkled her freckled nose. “You don’t look gut, Aunt Sarah. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine, but danki.” Sarah stirred the Anise cookie batter and racked her brain for something to change the subject. “You and Rebecca got here early this morning, no?”
“Ya.” Lindsay began cutting out cookies. “Aunt Rebecca was having some tummy problems this morning.” She nodded toward her stomach, and Sarah knew the girl was referring to morning sickness. “She was up early, and I was too. So, we just headed out. We had a couple of loaves of bread in the oven before Aunt Beth Anne and Aunt Kathryn got here.”
Sarah nodded and glanced across the kitchen to where Mamm was speaking softly to Sarah’s older sisters. When Mamm’s gaze met Sarah’s, her mother quickly looked away, causing Sarah’s stomach to churn.
She hoped her mother wasn’t talking to them about her again. She was in no mood for another well-meaning lecture from her sisters. They were constantly insisting Sarah must accept Peter’s death and concentrate on the blessing of her pregnancy.
What did they know about loss? They both had their husbands and children living and healthy.
“I best go check on the children,” Lindsay said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Aunt Kathryn must need a break since she came back in from outside.”
Sarah snatched the cookie cutter. “I’ll finish cutting out your cookies.”
“Danki.” Smiling, Lind
say crossed the kitchen and disappeared out the back door toward the playground set up for Sarah’s young nieces and nephews.
“Sarah,” a voice behind her said. “How are you today? Mamm mentioned that you had a rough night.”
Sarah glanced over at Beth Anne and swallowed a groan. “I’m fine.” I wish you all would stop worrying about me.
Beth Anne’s blue eyes narrowed with disbelief, and Sarah braced herself for the coming lecture.
“You can talk to me. I’ll always listen.” Her older sister squeezed her hand.
“I appreciate that, but there’s nothing to say. I didn’t get much sleep last night, but I’m gut. Really.” Sarah turned back to her cookies in the hopes Beth Anne would return to work and leave her alone to her thoughts.
“I know you’re hurting,” Beth Anne began, moving closer and lowering her voice. “However, you must let Peter’s memory rest in peace. You need your strength for your baby.”
Sarah gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, trying in vain to curb her rising aggravation. Facing her older sister, she narrowed her eyes. “I know you mean well, but you can’t possibly know what I’m thinking or what I’m feeling. I lost my husband, and you have no idea how that feels. I know I need to let go, but how can I when Peter’s baby is growing inside me?”
Beth Anne’s expression softened. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“Then leave me alone and let me work.” Sarah faced the counter. “I have a lot of cookies to make. We sold out yesterday.”
“Okay,” Beth Anne’s voice was soft. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
“Ya. Danki.” Sarah closed her eyes and prayed for strength to make it through the day.
Late that afternoon, Sarah lay on the cold, metal table at the clinic and stared at the computer screen while a young woman moved the cool probe through the jelly spread on her belly.
Sarah stared at the screen and sucked in a breath while the ultrasound technician pointed out anatomy on the screen. Sarah wondered how many years of schooling it took for the young woman to figure out which was the spinal cord and which was the heart when it all resembled a bunch of squiggly lines.