“I think you’ve already been doing that. But yes, Lukas, I will let you.”
He leaned closer. “Will you let me take you on more walks? If you want, I’ll even break out my father’s old courting buggy.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“I’d do just about anything for you.”
“I’d do just about anything for you, too,” she said with a smile. “I’d even let you lock me inside the post office.”
His grin was a beautiful thing to see.
At last, she could give him the answer he’d been looking for. “Lukas, ask me your question.”
He went still. “Sure?”
“Very sure.”
“All right.” Taking a fortifying breath, he reached for her hand. “Darla, will you marry me?”
Staring up at him, she thought about everything she’d known him to be. When they were little, he’d been her swimming instructor and as they’d grown older, her confidant. Lately, he’d been her protector.
But through it all, more than anything, he’d been her friend. She could laugh with him like no other. He could tease her and please her like no one else. They were both stubborn and steadfast. They were two people who were better together.
And it had always been that way.
Around a sigh, she at last said the words she’d always dreamed she’d say one day. “Yes, Lukas. I will marry you.”
He grinned broadly again. At least, she thought he did. It was kind of hard to tell since he pulled her to him, hugged her close, then kissed her.
After a moment, she lifted her arms and pressed them against his chest, enjoying the feel of him.
“You make me happy, Darla,” he breathed.
“You make me happy, too,” she replied.
Just then someone started knocking at the door. “Hello?” a voice called. “It’s nine A.M. Is anyone there? Darla?”
She broke away. “I must get that.”
“You can. In a minute,” he said as he kissed her cheek. “Just let me enjoy this moment.”
More knocking erupted. Then voices and grumbling.
“But the mail . . .”
“Will wait.”
As the pounding on the door got worse, she pulled away. “I need to open the door. I’ve got customers, you know.”
“Fine.” He turned, unlocked the door, and threw it open. “Hold on, everyone. Darla is busy with me.”
A stream of seven faces gaped back at him. Finally, Mr. Carson called out, “Lukas Kinsinger, what are you doing in there?”
“Asking Darla to marry me.”
While a couple of the ladies giggled, Mr. Carson tipped up his ball cap and glared. “Give him your answer, and be quick about it, Darla. I’ve got things to do.”
As the crowd outside started laughing and calling out all kinds of comments, Lukas held up one finger. “Give us a sec, everyone,” he said before closing the door once more.
“Lukas! You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can. It ain’t every day that a couple gets engaged.”
Smiling at him, Darla decided she couldn’t fault his logic. Because right now, right that minute, she felt only happiness.
Happiness and joy.
Two things she’d never take for granted again.
P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .*
About the author
* * *
Meet Shelley Shepard Gray
About the book
* * *
Letter from the Author
Questions for Discussion
White Chocolate Cranberry Blondies
Read on
* * *
A Few Charming Facts from Shelley Shepard Gray
A Sneak Peek from the second book in Shelley’s new series, The Charmed Amish Life, A Daughter’s Dream
About the author
Meet
Shelley Shepard Gray
PEOPLE OFTEN ASK how I started writing. Some believe I’ve been a writer all my life; others ask if I’ve always felt I had a story I needed to tell. I’m afraid my reasons couldn’t be more different. See, I started writing one day because I didn’t have anything to read.
I’ve always loved to read. I was the girl in the back of the classroom with her nose in a book, the mom who kept a couple of novels in her car to read during soccer practice, the person who made weekly visits to the bookstore and the library.
Back when I taught elementary school, I used to read during my lunch breaks. One day, when I realized I’d forgotten to bring something to read, I turned on my computer and took a leap of faith. Feeling a little like I was doing something wrong, I typed those first words: Chapter One.
I didn’t start writing with the intention of publishing a book. Actually, I just wrote for myself.
For the most part, I still write for myself, which is why, I think, I’m able to write so much. I write books that I’d like to read. Books that I would have liked to have in my old teacher tote bag. I’m always relieved and surprised and so happy when other people want to read my books, too!
Another question I’m often asked is why I choose to write inspirational fiction. Maybe at first glance, it does seem surprising. I’m not the type of person who usually talks about my faith in the line at the grocery store or when I’m out to lunch with friends. For me, my faith has always felt like more of a private thing. I feel that I’m still on my faith journey—still learning and studying God’s word.
And that, I think, is why writing inspirational fiction is such a good fit for me. I enjoy writing about characters who happen to be in the middle of their faith journeys, too. They’re not perfect, and they don’t always make the right decisions. Sometimes they make mistakes, and sometimes they do something they’re proud of. They’re characters who are a lot like me.
Only God knows what else He has in store for me. He’s given me the will and the ability to write stories to glorify Him. He’s put many people in my life who are supportive and caring. I feel blessed and thankful . . . and excited to see what will happen next!
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
About the book
Letter from the Author
Dear Reader,
Have you ever been to Charm, Ohio? My first experience in this little hamlet was when I drove home from Sugarcreek the first time by myself. Maybe I was singing along with the radio a bit too enthusiastically. Maybe I was too caught up with looking at all the haystacks dotting the fields. Or maybe my terrible sense of direction came into play. In any case, one moment I was where I was supposed to be and the next? Well, I was lost in Charm.
As you might imagine, my feeble attempts to get back on my way didn’t end up with much success. After a good thirty minutes, I finally pulled to a stop in front of an Amish farm. There I was, attempting to make sense out of my written directions and wondering why my Garmin wasn’t working, when a farmer wandered down to greet me.
I got out, told him where I’d come from and where I was trying to get to. He listened with a serious expression on his face, then pointed to the road I’d been driving on. “Just keep going. Before you know it, you’ll be on your way in no time,” he said.
Of course, that sounded a bit too easy. However, it also made a lot of sense. Because of that, I did as he suggested . . . and yes, before I knew it, I was back on my way home again. I’ve often thought about that advice the farmer gave me. Actually, in some ways, I think it might be some of the best advice I’ve ever been given! Don’t we all need to just keep going, no matter what might be happening in our lives?
Because of that experience, I’ve always yearned to set a series of books in Charm. To me, Charm is more than just rolling hills and acres of farmland. It’s more than farmers raising goats and sheep and cows. It’s even more than cheese shops and lumber mills and quaint stores. It’s a place where I got lost, met a kind man with good advice, and eventually found my way home again.
I hope you will enjoy this year’s series, The Charmed Amish Life, as much as I am enjoying writing it.
And if by chance you ever find yourself lost in Charm? Simply keep on going! I promise that sooner or later you will eventually get where you need to be.
With blessings to you, and my thanks.
Shelley
P.S. I love to hear from readers, either on Facebook, through my website, or through the postal system! If you’d care to write and tell me what you thought of the book, please do!
Shelley Shepard Gray 10663 Loveland Madeira Rd. #167 Loveland, OH 45140
Questions for Discussion
1. When the book opens, Darla and Lukas are attempting to repair a broken friendship. As people grow and change, this no doubt often happens. Have you ever had a broken friendship that you’ve attempted to repair?
2. Each character in the novel is grieving in a different way. If you’ve lost an important family member, how did you cope?
3. What do you think about Lukas Kinsinger? What are his strengths? What are his weaknesses?
4. How did you like Hannah Eicher’s story line? What do you think will happen to her with Rob and the Ross family?
5. The theme of family runs through the novel. Both Lukas’s and Darla’s families are struggling to rebuild themselves without parents. What do you think constitutes a family? How does one strengthen it?
6. Aaron Kurtz was a character filled with pain. What do you think he needs to do next in order to heal and find redemption? What do you think Hope should do?
7. The Amish proverb I used for the novel is the following: Reach up as far as you can. God will reach the rest of the way. How do you think it fits with this novel? Do you find it has meaning for you as well?
8. The scripture verse from Matthew 6:14 felt particularly meaningful to me while I wrote this book. “If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you.” How have you practiced forgiveness in your life?
9. I enjoyed exploring Charm when I researched the novel. Have you been to Charm before? What do you like about exploring Amish communities?
White Chocolate Cranberry Blondies
1 cup diced dried cranberries
2 cups hot water
¾ cup butter, softened
1½ cups brown sugar
4 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 eggs
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup white chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a medium sheet pan and set aside.
In a small bowl, rehydrate the dried cranberries by combining with hot water. Allow to sit for one minute, then drain.
Cream together the butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Add vanilla and eggs, one at a time. Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add to butter mixture and mix. Fold in the cranberries and white chocolate chips. Evenly press the batter into the prepared pan.
Bake 18 to 20 minutes until the top is a light golden brown. Allow to cool for 20 minutes, and then cut into squares.
Taken from Country Blessings Cookbook by Clara Coblentz. Used by permission of the Shrock’s Homestead, 9943 Copperhead Rd. N.W., Sugarcreek, OH 44681.
Read on
A Few Charming Facts from Shelley Shepard Gray
1. Charm is located in the heart of Holmes County, home to the largest Amish and Mennonite population in the world.
2. The actual population of Charm is only 110 people.
3. One of the public schools in Charm is actually called “Charm School.”
4. Charm was founded in 1886. It was once called Stevenson, in honor of a local Amish man, Stephan Yoder and his son.
5. Charm also has a nickname that some locals still use. The name is “Putschtown,” which is derived from the word “putschka,” meaning “small clump.”
6. The annual “Charm Days” festival is held in the fall every year. The highlight of the festival is the “Wooly Worm Derby.”
7. The largest business in Charm is Keim Lumber Company. Located on St. Route 557, it has a large retail showroom and website and is open to the public.
A Sneak Peek
from the Second Book in Shelley’s New Series, The Charmed Amish Life, A Daughter’s Dream
Coming May 2016 from Avon Inspire
KEEPING TWENTY-FIVE schoolchildren reasonably happy and on task for a solid hour was harder than it looked.
As Rebecca Kinsinger stood at the front the classroom and eyed the group of students staring right back at her, she realized she had seriously misjudged her ability to manage small children.
In the last hour, the twenty-five students, all ranging in ages five to fourteen, had decidedly taken the upper hand. They’d talked to each other. They’d ignored her wishes. They didn’t seem all that interested in the work their usual teacher had assigned them to do.
As the large clock above the door ticked on, Rebecca was coming to the conclusion that the only thing they did seem rather excited about was the approach of the end of the school day.
In fifteen minutes’ time, to be exact.
She was starting to get excited about the end of the day, too.
As the low murmur of voices grew louder by tiny degrees with each passing minute, Rebecca decided that she didn’t blame Rachel Mast, the students’ teacher, for taking her time to return to the building. Being alone with this bunch for eight hours at a time would make anyone yearn for a break.
As two sweet-looking girls sitting in the middle of the first row started giggling with each other, Rebecca knew that it was time to regain control. Otherwise, Rachel would never let her help out in her classroom again, and Rebecca really wanted to learn how to be a good teacher.
She clapped her hands lightly. “Kinner, please. All of you have assignments to complete. It is time to get busy and work on it.”
After a pause, about half of them quieted and got to work. Two of the oldest boys, however, merely stared at her.
When it was apparent that neither of them was in any hurry to mind her, she wove her way through the line of desks until she stood directly in front of them. “I was talking to you boys as well.”
The sandy-haired boy smirked. “Oh. I wasna sure, ’cause no one’s called me a child for well on two years.”
“You might not be a small child but you are certainly not a grown-up.” She placed her hands on her hips and fastened her eyes on him. “Now, get busy.”
The boy picked up his pencil, but his friend, who Rebecca knew to be Peter Beachy, folded his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll do it later,” Peter said. Then he lifted his chin, practically daring her to argue with his pronouncement.
Ack, but this was terrible! How come all the men at her family’s lumber mill were always polite and amiable to her, but these . . . these kinner were not?
Attempting to look far more sure of herself than she felt, Rebecca said, “Peter, you’d best get to work. I know Mrs. Mast expects you to do it now.”
“I’ll talk to her when she gets back.” With a shrug, he added, “I’m almost done with school, anyway. I’m fourteen. I’m already working part-time at the mill, you know.”
Oh, she knew. Rebecca figured everyone in Charm knew of Peter Beachy. He’d been a handful when he was five and the last nine years hadn’t changed him much . . . unless he was at the mill. There, he became a completely different person. He was respectful and hardworking. Polite and modest.
Lukas loved him. Lukas’s best friend Simon did, too. They were constantly teasing Peter or giving him some kind of special errand to do because he was such a hard worker.
But here at school?
She had yet to see any of those qualities.
Perhaps it was time to try a little less patience and a little m
ore steel. Straightening her backbone, she said, “Peter, you might be all of fourteen but you are still a student in this class. That means you need to be respectful and follow directions.”
But instead of being cowed, Peter got to his feet. Even at fourteen, the boy was several inches taller than she was. “Jah, but you ain’t my teacher, Miss Kinsinger. Only my boss’s sister.”
At a loss for words, Rebecca blinked. His harsh tone took her aback. Just as she was debating whether to remind him that she would not hesitate to tell on him to Luke, the door opened.
“That’s enough, Peter,” Rachel said sternly as she walked down the center aisle of the one-room schoolhouse’s grouping of chairs. “Sit down and apologize to Miss Kinsinger.”
Peter complied immediately. “I am sorry, Miss Kinsinger.”
It was hard to come to terms with the immediate transformation that had taken place before her eyes. Peter’s cocky bravado went into hiding. All at once, he looked exactly like he did at the mill. A strong boy who’d grown up doing chores and had a lifetime of hard work awaiting him at the lumber mill.
“No harm done,” she said weakly.
“Hmph,” Rachel said. Standing in front of her students, she placed her hands on her hips. The room went silent. “Scholars, I am most displeased by this behavior. I expect you all to behave much better when Miss Kinsinger is here.”
All the students looked shamefaced.
Rebecca was so amazed by their reaction, she moved to stand against the wall and simply watched as Rachel competently walked up and down the rows, reviewing homework assignments. Every so often, she would touch a child’s shoulder or point to the paper he or she was working on. She never raised her voice. She was gentle and kind, yet firm.
She was a marvel.
As she spoke, children wrote notes in their assignment booklets, gathered papers and textbooks, and generally acted like every word she said was the most important thing each had ever heard.
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