An Unexpected Amish Romance

by Patricia Davids

  “I didn’t put the labels on because I didn’t know what spices you would want,” he said quickly, hoping she liked it.

  She tucked the jar back in place and closed the doors. “Mark, this is beautiful. But why?”

  “I’m hoping it’s an engagement gift. Helen Zook, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t mean that. You’re going to marry Angela.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You aren’t? What about the land and the business? You’ve spent years working to fulfill your plans. I don’t understand.”

  “The good Lord has opened my eyes and made me see that my plan wasn’t His plan for me. You are if you will have me. I’m not much, but I promise to be a good and loving husband. Will you marry me?”

  “You’re not going to marry Angela?”

  “Nee, I’m not.”

  “You’re not going to start a business with her father?”

  “Nope.”

  Her eyes widened as his words sank in. “Why?”

  “Because I love you. Do you...do you care for me at all?” He held his breath.

  “Oh, Mark I love you, too. I can’t believe this is happening. I have been rehearsing how to say goodbye without falling apart.”

  “God willing I will never hear that speech.” He laid the spice rack aside, pulled her close and kissed her as every fiber of his being shouted with joy. After a long interval, he pulled away to look into her eyes.

  “I love you, Helen Zook. I think I fell in love with you when you smashed those delicious cream horns into my chest.”

  She covered her face with her hands and laughed. “I was absolutely humiliated that day. The look on your face did not say I love you.”

  He took her hands in his. “What does the look on my face say today?”

  Tenderness filled her eyes. “It says everything I have always wanted to hear.”

  He swept back a lock of her hair. “Does it say ‘I think you are beautiful?’”

  She tipped her head to the side to study him. “I believe it does.”

  He gently cupped her face and ran his thumb across her lips. “Does it say that I’m dying to kiss you again?”

  She tipped her head slightly. “I don’t see that in your eyes.”

  “Then I reckon I had better show you.” He bent forward and gently kissed her.

  She sighed against his lips. He turned to gather her in his arms and draw her close. Her arms circled his neck, and he thought his heart might explode with the love that expanded inside him. Her lips were soft and yielding beneath his. He’d never know a sweeter moment in his life. He kissed her eyelids and her cute nose and the pulse beating in her throat.

  When she finally drew back, he knew without a doubt that this was the woman God meant to be his wife. “I didn’t know I could love someone so much,” he whispered.

  “It came as a surprise to me, too,” she said with a smile. “God has been good to us.”

  “What is your answer, woman of my heart?”

  * * *

  Helen grew somber as she gazed at the man she loved. “In answer to your earlier question, ja, Mark Bowman, I will be pleased to become your wife. This morning you said that we will raise our children by this river. Have you decided not to return to Pennsylvania?”

  “I’ve been working on a new plan, but I’m going to need some help with it.”

  “I’m always willing to give you my point of view.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Even when I don’t want it, I know. This time, I want it. I’ve taken some inspiration from you. You love baking, and it shows in what you produce. The part I like best about building furniture is carving. I’m a good carver. I think I can become a master carver in time. Adam Knepp, my uncle’s master carver, is willing to teach me. My uncle says I have the gift. Bowmans Crossing is drawing more tourists every year. I think a bakery beside the gift shop can become a paying proposition in two or three years with the right baker in charge.”

  “Me? You want me to have my own bakery?” She shook her head sadly. “We don’t have the money for that.”

  “When I told Angela I couldn’t marry her, she gave me back the money I had paid to her father. She was hoping I wouldn’t take her back. Her father pressured her into saying that she had reconsidered and that she was willing to go through with our arrangement, but she wanted to marry someone else. She didn’t come because of the letter you thought I wrote her. I never sent it. I was writing it to you. I wanted to hear what it would take to make you love me.”

  Helen laid a hand on his cheek. She was glad he hadn’t sent Angela that letter. “Are you sure about this? You dreamed of owning your own business there for so many years.”

  He covered her hand with his and turned to place a kiss on her palm. “God has given me a new dream. One that will change and grow over time as He blesses us with children and grandchildren.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  He kissed her temple. “So do I. When can we wed?”

  “As soon as the banns are announced is fine with me,” Helen said and leaned toward him for another kiss.

  “Nonsense,” Charlotte declared from her bedroom window. “Fall is the time for weddings. You don’t want folks wondering why the rush. We have so much to do to get ready. Are you finished wooing yet?”

  “Not yet, Charlotte,” Mark said sternly. “Stop eavesdropping, and shut your window.”

  “How rude. Helen was right about you.” She slammed the window sash down with a bang.

  Clyde woofed. Mark looked over at him. “Get lost. I’ve got this.”

  The dog jumped down from the bench and trotted around the corner of the house.

  “Now, where was I?” Mark asked, gathering Helen close once more.

  She tapped her lips with one finger. “I think you were here.”

  “I believe you’re right.”

  Helen thrilled to the touch of his lips on hers and proceeded to kiss him with all the passion in her heart. God had indeed been good to them.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed

  AN UNEXPECTED AMISH ROMANCE,

  look for the other books in the

  AMISH BACHELORS series:

  AN AMISH HARVEST

  AN AMISH NOEL

  HIS AMISH TEACHER

  THEIR PRETEND AMISH COURTSHIP

  AMISH CHRISTMAS TWINS

  Keep reading for an excerpt from COURTING HER AMISH HEART by Mary Davis.

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  Dear Readers,

  I have both a cat and a dog and I love them both, but my dog loves me back while my cat only likes me. Clyde is the combination of several dogs that I have owned. While none of them have been basset hounds, they shared some of the clownish behavior that is characteristic of the breed. Bumper, a Boston terrier, was a true clown. He would sing along while my husband played his accordion, and he would torment our cat.

  Kahn, a massive black Lab, could knock you off your feet without a second thought. He was always sorry and would cover your face with kisses before you could get to your feet. He was also noted for licking my ear while I was driving. Not often, but it was distracting when it happened.

  Gertie, a shepherd mix, would vanish at night and show up the next morning with a gift for me. Usually, it was a stick of firewood, cut and cured. I’d add it to our woodpile and thank her. Once, she brought me a pair of men’s underwear. We lived out in the country, and our nearest neighbor was a half mile away. I did not try to return the briefs. I sure wished she could tell me that story.

  Sadie was a yellow Lab-and-pointer mix who o
wned our hearts for nine beautiful years. She had pussy-willow ears—long and softer than silk. I believe she understood everything we said. She had the amazing ability to do what we asked with happy, loving energy. I miss her greatly.

  I believe our pets are angels sent from God to lighten the burdens of our lives and to show us truly unconditional love. As I am writing this, Sugar, my rat terrier mix, is watching me from the bed. She naps while I write but if I get up and put on my shoes, she becomes a bouncing ball of energy. She knows I’m going outside.

  I hope you enjoyed meeting Clyde and Juliet as well as Helen and Mark. Charlotte will remain one of my favorite characters of all time. Thanks for letting me tell you another tale about the Bowman family. Paul’s story will be next. I’m searching for the perfect girl for him right now.

  Blessings,

  Patricia Davids

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

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  Courting Her Amish Heart

  by Mary Davis

  Chapter One

  Kathleen Yoder stood in front of the motel room mirror, fussing with her hair. She had to look just right. She needed to be viewed as a proper Amish woman if her community was going to welcome her home. She pulled the pins from her hair and started over. What did the English say? Third time’s a charm.

  Even though all through her medical training she had continued to dress Amish and put her hair up, she hadn’t had another Amish woman to measure her ability against. It wasn’t gut to compare oneself to others, but she could gauge if she had been getting her clothes and hair put right. Iron sharpens iron. Had the fourteen years in the English world whittled away at her Amish standards? Probably. However, she would quickly fall back into Amish life.

  She snugged her kapp on her head and smoothed her hands down her blue Plain dress. At this point, no more amount of labor would make her appearance any more appropriate. She would need to trust Gott to pave her way.

  She zipped her suitcase closed, lowered it to the floor and extended the roller handle, holding it tight. With her other hand, she slung one strap of her backpack of medical supplies over her shoulder and draped her coat over her arm.

  Rolling her suitcase behind her, she opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight. The only things that stood between her and home now were the bus ride to Goshen and the walk to the farm. If she could convince the bus driver to let her off outside of town, she would have only eight miles to trek.

  She traipsed to the bus station three blocks away, purchased her ticket and sat in the seat behind the driver. “Could you let me off outside of Goshen?” She gave him the country road names of the intersection.

  “Sorry. I’m not authorized to make a stop there.” He tipped his head up and glanced at her in his rearview mirror. “Is someone meeting you at the station?”

  “No.” She hadn’t had the courage to contact anyone to come get her. It would be harder to turn her away if she were at the door.

  “How you getting from town out to the country?”

  “I’ll walk.”

  “That’s a long ways. Well over ten miles.”

  Thirteen point two from the city limits and another two or three from the bus station. “I’ll be fine.” She needed to get used to traversing these stretches. No time like the present.

  “I’m sure one of your people would gladly come into town to get you. Or you could take a taxi.”

  If someone knew she was returning today. But she hadn’t told anyone. “The walk will do me gut.” It would help transition her back into the slower pace of life. As well as giving her something to occupy herself with instead of dealing with idle chatter. Giving her a chance to prepare herself for the meeting of her people. She hoped they still were her people.

  She stared out the window at her home state’s terrain sweeping by. As the Indiana countryside grew increasingly more familiar, snippets of her past surged through her. Places she’d been. People she’d seen. Homes she’d visited. Her life among the English fell away with each passing mile.

  The bus slowed, and the driver pulled onto the shoulder of the highway and stopped under an overpass. The one she’d hoped he could have taken to shorten her walk. The driver stood and faced the passengers. “I need to check something on the bus outside. Won’t be but a minute.” The driver gazed directly at Kathleen. “Could you accompany me?”

  Kathleen stood. “All right.” She didn’t know what help she could be.

  With a broad smile, he motioned for her to precede him down the steps.

  Once outside, he handed over her medical pack and coat. He must have taken them from her seat. He pointed to the lower storage compartments. “Which one’s your luggage in?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He faced her. “You see, I’m not supposed to stop along the way, but if I think there could be a problem with the bus...well, that’s a different story. And if, while I’m checking the bus, a passenger was to get off, and if I wasn’t able to talk her into getting back on, there’s nothing I could do about that. And if a particular piece of luggage were to ‘fall’ off, there wouldn’t be anything I could do about that either. Seeing as I wouldn’t notice it until I got to the station.”

  She smiled. “I appreciate your kindness.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just checking on the bus.” He winked. “I believe the problem could be in the back compartment. I’ll need to move a...dark blue roller case?”

  She nodded. She shouldn’t encourage this kind of deceptive behavior.

  He opened the section and pushed a couple of bags aside before pulling hers free. “You going to be all right by yourself?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She felt safer already being here than she’d ever felt being at the university or in any of the hospitals or clinics where she’d worked. “Thank you.” She appreciated him cutting her walk in half.

  Giving her a nod, he climbed back into the bus. “False alarm. Everything is as it should be.” He winked at her again, then closed the doors.

  She waved in return, and several passengers waved to her. As the bus pulled away, she pressed a hand to her queasy abdomen. Almost home. Regardless of the reception she would receive, she was back in her Elkhart County New Order Amish community. She draped her coat over the top of her suitcase, balanced her medical backpack on top of that, gripped the roller handle and struck out on the very last leg of her fourteen-year journey. Up the off-ramp, down the road, along the country lane, and toward home.

  After trudging along for fifteen minutes or so on the edge of the blacktop, she realized this was not at all like walking the halls of a hospital. She was out of shape and shifted her suitcase handle to her other hand.

  The familiar reverberation of horse’s hooves clomping on the pavement came from behind her. The comforting sound both thrille
d her and caused her unsteady insides to knot. In all her daydreams, she hadn’t pictured seeing any Amish until her family opened the front door. How foolish. Who would this be? Someone she knew? Would anyone still recognize her?

  As the horse and buggy drew closer, her midsection twisted tighter and tighter. She dared not turn around though she wanted to know whom it was. But at the same time, she didn’t want to know. Let them pass her by.

  First, the horse came alongside her, then the buggy. The driver slowed the horse to her pace. “Hallo.”

  She glanced up into the sun and raised her hand to shade her eyes. The bearded face held a kind smile and sparkling brown eyes that sent a small thrill dancing through her. Shame on her. His beard signified he was a married man. Though he seemed familiar, she couldn’t place him. Maybe it was just because he was Amish. And all her emotions, negative and positive, were heightened.

  “Hallo.” She stopped, welcoming the respite. Or did she welcome the delay in arriving at her destination?

  He reined in the horse and spoke in Deutsch. “Can I give you a ride?”

  It had been so long since she’d heard her language. She replied in kind. “That’s very considerate of you.” She was tired, not used to this amount of walking in the late-spring heat. “But I’m fine. Walking is gut.” Nevertheless, she remained rooted in place, not wanting to part company from this man yet for some strange reason.

  He set the brake and jumped down. He stood between her and a passing pickup truck as though protecting her from it. His gaze flickered to her suitcase then back to her face. “I’m Noah Lambright.”

  No doubt he thought she was running away with her suitcase in tow. “I’m Kathleen Yoder.”

  His eyes widened slightly as though her name were familiar. Why wasn’t his? Noah? She had known many Noahs in her youth, both young and old. But now she’d spent nearly as much time away as she had at home. Certainly such a handsome Amish man she would have remembered. “I’m sure my strolling alongside the road with my suitcase must have you confused. I’m not running away, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Quite the opposite. She was finally running home. Home to her family. Home to her community. Home to her Amish way of life. And for some reason, it was important that this man—this Noah—knew that.