The Amish Widower's Twins

by Jo Ann Brown

  “He’s trying to make up for lost time,” was what Grossmammi Inez said. Like the little boy, she’d recovered from her surgery and seemed to live every minute to its utmost. She no longer had to gasp for breath after each word, and she had reclaimed the kitchen as her own, delighting in making meals for her family. Once again, she sat with the family in the evening and read from the Bible, so they could pray together before bed.

  Leanna took a leaf away from Heidi before the little girl put it in her mouth. Heidi tried to put everything in her mouth while Harley was more intent in trying to figure out how their toys could be taken apart. He’d been tearing leaves into tiny pieces, and their clothes and hair were littered in red and gold that glittered in the last light of the day. The sun set earlier with each passing day as summer faded into fall.

  Today would always be one Leanna remembered with a warm glow because today was the day she and Gabriel had spoken their vows as husband and wife in front of the community. In the morning, the four of them would be leaving to visit relatives in Lancaster County.

  “I think the kinder will enjoy riding on the train to Pennsylvania,” Gabriel said as he reached down to brush some leaf bits out of his son’s hair.

  “Entertaining them for eight hours will be a challenge.”

  “Bring plenty of cookies and books for them to color in.” He chuckled. He did that more and more, and she savored each laugh. “Assuming they don’t try to eat the crayons again.”

  “Last time they drew on each other’s faces and hands.”

  “As they did with icing from the wedding cake?” He laced his fingers through hers as they walked together. “It was a wunderbaar wedding dinner.”

  “Between Annie’s cooking and Caleb’s baking skills, there couldn’t be any complaints.”

  “Your friends seemed to find a lot of the day funny.”

  She hesitated, then realized she needed to be as forthcoming with him as he’d been with her the day of the two heart surgeries. “They were celebrating because the members of our older girls’ club aren’t eligible for it any longer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we called it the Harmony Creek Spinsters Club.”

  “Spinsters Club?” He laughed and slid his arm around her waist. “You’re going to have to pass that title on to other women.”

  “No, it’s better to retire the name. Let others come up with a name for their groups of friends.”

  “Or we could have the Harmony Creek Bachelors Club now that Michael is spending so much time with Benjamin and Menno Kuhns.”

  “I don’t think they’d appreciate being called that.”

  “Which makes it all the more fun to use.” He chuckled, a sound she knew she’d never tire of hearing.

  “I’m glad you told Michael about Freda.”

  He grew serious. “I am, too. What amazes me is that he wasn’t surprised. He said he knew there had to be some overpowering reason why I didn’t marry you in the first place.”

  “Our siblings know more than we give them credit for.” She paused in the road. “Here we are.”

  “At Eli and Miriam’s house? Why are we here?”

  “You’ll see.” She took the handle of the wagon from him. “Komm mol.”

  Leanna led the way to the barn beyond the house. She smiled and waved to Miriam, who stood beside Eli’s nephew, Kyle. The boy, who’d sprouted up several inches over the summer, was grinning.

  “Are you ready to see them?” Kyle asked.

  Enjoying Gabriel’s puzzled expression, she followed Kyle into the barn and to a corner where a blanket peeked over the edge of a large wooden box. She looked in and asked, “Which one?”

  “This one.” The boy lifted out a black-and-white puppy and handed it to Leanna.

  She carried it to Gabriel. “I know she’ll never be the dog that you had to give up when you were a boy, but I thought she’d make a gut wedding gift for you.”

  “She’s the perfect gift,” he said, his voice breaking. “I only told you that story once, but you remembered.”

  Touched by his reaction, she hurried to say, “She’s too young yet to leave her mamm, but by the time we return from visiting family and friends, she’ll be ready to join our family. Harley and Heidi are going to love her.”

  Gabriel took the puppy from her and knelt by the wagon. The adoration between the twins and the little puppy was instantaneous, and Leanna didn’t know which one wiggled more in excitement as the bopplin reached out to pet the puppy’s silken fur. Both twins began to giggle with excitement, and the puppy’s tail wagged so hard it was a blur.

  Blinking abrupt tears, Leanna sent up a prayer of thanks that Harley could laugh and not lose his breath. In the four months since his surgery, strength had flowed through the little boy as his heart pumped life along his veins.

  The bopplin and the puppy protested when Gabriel stood.

  “How about you, Leanna?” He handed the pup to Kyle. As the boy set her in the box, Gabriel said, “You’re the one who’ll have to train her and clean up her puddles until she’s housebroken.”

  “Puddles! That’s a cute name.”

  “I hope you’ll think so after a couple of weeks of having three bopplin—two human and one puppy—in the house along with having to take care of your goats.”

  “I know I’m going to love everything about our home together.”

  Not caring that Miriam and Kyle were standing on the other side of the wagon, because, after all, it was her wedding day, Leanna gave her husband a swift kiss. She started to step away, but his arm around her kept her close.

  “If you’ll excuse us a minute, Miriam,” he said with a wink, “my wife and I have some lost time we need to make up for.”

  “You may need more than a minute.” Miriam laughed and motioned to her nephew to come with her. They walked out of the barn.

  “She’s right,” he said as he bent toward Leanna again. “We’re going to need a lifetime.”

  “Starting now?”

  He answered her with a sweet kiss, and she knew she would love every moment of the rest of their lives together. Some things, she’d learned, were worth the wait.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story,

  don’t miss the other books in the

  Amish Spinster Club series

  from Jo Ann Brown:

  The Amish Suitor

  The Amish Christmas Cowboy

  The Amish Bachelor’s Baby

  And be sure to pick up these other exciting

  books by Jo Ann Brown:

  Amish Homecoming

  An Amish Match

  His Amish Sweetheart

  An Amish Reunion

  A Ready-Made Amish Family

  An Amish Proposal

  An Amish Arrangement

  Find more great reads at

  www.LoveInspired.com

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A Love for Lizzie by Tracey J. Lyons.

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  Dear Reader,

  Life’s twists keep us on our toes, don’t they? Leanna and Gabriel never expected they’d meet again. However, they came to realize you can’t escape your past by fleeing it and that they needed to trust God was leading them back to each other.

  In our lives, we may try to be like Leanna and Gabriel. We try to keep our pasts in our past and hold on to secret and not-so-secret hurts. It’s only when we face those fears that we can truly move forward.

  Thank you for sharing the stories of the Amish Spinster Club. These books have been a special treat for me because they’re in my hometown. I hope you’ve had fun visiting Salem and Harmony Creek, to
o.

  Visit me at www.joannbrownbooks.com. Look for my new Amish series, set in beautiful Vermont, coming soon.

  Wishing you many blessings,

  Jo Ann Brown

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

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  A Love for Lizzie

  by Tracey J. Lyons

  Chapter One

  Miller’s Crossing, Chautauqua County, New York

  “Good morning, Lizzie.”

  Her long-time neighbor and friend, Paul Burkholder, greeted Elizabeth Miller, or “Lizzie” as everyone called her, from the other side of the screen door on the front porch. A tall man with mahogany-brown hair and dark brown eyes, his head barely cleared the top of the door. He was holding his flat-brimmed straw hat in one hand and a bag in the other. He wore a blue work shirt and black pants with thin leather suspenders, the ends buttoned inside the waist of his pants, the typical everyday clothing of a Miller’s Crossing Amish man.

  His face was clean-shaven, void of the full beard that marked the married men. She’d always thought him to be handsome. At twenty-three he remained single, while most of his friends were getting married, though she’d heard rumors at the last frolic that he wanted to change all of that. Paul might look like many of the other men in their church district, but Lizzie knew this man had a big heart. Maybe sometimes too big of a heart. He’d stuck by her through thick and thin.

  Even all the times she’d pushed him away.

  Lizzie knew over the past week she’d been pushing at him extra hard. This time of year was always a difficult one for her and her family. Her gaze slid to the hook on the wall next to the door. The place where her bruder’s black hat still hung. She swung her attention back to the man standing on the porch. Concentrating on the present kept Lizzie from thinking about that long-ago day. A day she tried hard to forget. Yes, some of her memories of that day remained foggy, stuck somewhere deep in her mind, like a splinter that she couldn’t get out. Still, the end result could never be changed; no matter what she remembered, her brother, David, would still be gone and she would have this mark seared on her face.

  Paul rolled his shoulders, the strong muscles flexing beneath the cotton fabric of his light blue shirt. Lizzie’s hand moved to cover the scar on her face. Beneath her fingertips she felt the raised flesh. The jagged cut ran three inches long, from the edge of her eyebrow to just below her cheekbone. Vanity held no place in her life or in her community, but still some days it was hard to accept reality. She had a disfigurement that couldn’t be overlooked. Over the years the members of her community had done just that, continuing to love her and accept her through the flaws.

  The Englischers, though, they were different. Some of them would openly stare at her when they stopped by her roadside stand to buy their fresh eggs. They were one of the reasons Lizzie didn’t stray from the farm very often. She couldn’t bear it when people stared at her. Their looks left her feeling ugly and unworthy.

  She felt Paul’s gaze on her.

  “Lizzie?”

  She heard his concern and looked up at him, keeping her face turned ever so slightly.

  “You seemed to have gone off there for a minute.”

  “Do you know what today is?” The second she blurted out the question, she was filled with regrets. It didn’t do a person good to dwell on the past, to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed, to question the path that God had set forth for them.

  Paul looked through the screen door at her, his eyes darkening with emotion. His nod was barely perceptible when he replied. “I do. Ten years to the day of the accident that took your bruder’s life and left you injured.” His voice softened as he continued, “Lizzie, like you, I miss David every day. And like you, I wish we could have changed the outcome.”

  She held up her hand. There was no need for him to continue. She knew he was referring to his part in the day. He’d come to the barn just as she’d tried to get David to stop jumping off the hay bales. But David, who had always been the daring sibling, had insisted he could make it from the top all the way down to the bottom in one jump. She had tried her best to grab hold of his arm, but he’d already begun moving through the air when she’d caught hold of him.

  Her body had been carried along with his as they’d tumbled down the bales. That was the last thing she remembered before waking up in the hospital. Lizzie pushed the dark memory away as best she could. She looked at Paul. Moving off to the side of the door, Lizzie turned her head ever so slightly to the right, hiding the scar. From the safety of the shadows, she looked up at him, watching as a soft summer breeze ruffled through his dark hair.

  Though the Amish did not commemorate the anniversaries of one’s death like some of the Englischers did, she herself always paused for a moment on this day to remember David. He would have been close to twenty-three years old. Three years older than she was right now.

  Pushing aside the sadness in her heart, she said, “I’m sorry. I should have begun our conversation with ‘Gut morning, Paul. What brings you around this fine day?’”

  Holding the brown paper bag up, he replied in his deep, rich voice, “I have something for you.”

  “You know I can’t accept a gift from you.”

  “You don’t even know what is inside of here,” he said, swinging the bag back and forth in front of her.

  She had to admit he had piqued her curiosity. “Tell me what you brought.”

  “I brought you some brushes and watercolor paints.”

  Lizzie didn’t like the idea that Paul had gone out of his way to spend his hard-earned money on something just for her. And considering that it wasn’t useful to anyone else, she knew the paints and brushes would have to be kept out of sight.

  Thinking how much trouble Paul’s generosity could cause, Lizzie shook her head, saying, “Nee. You’ll have to take these back to where you purchased them. I’m sure you can get your money back.” Furrowing her brow, she gave him a stern look.

  “I’ll do no such thing. Besides, I found them at a yard sale, so there’s no use in trying to return them. They only cost me a few dollars, Lizzie. And half of the paints have been used,” he said. Then with a spark in his eyes, he added, “Think of this as my bringing you supplies for your art.”

  Lizzie had taken up artwork years ago. Sketching the surrounding landscapes had given her a bit of peace and helped to fill the void left behind after her brother’s death. Since her vader would most certainly frown on using her time to dabble in something most Amish would consider frivolous, Lizzie managed to scrape together a few free hours each month to work on her craft. In her mind her drawings were no different from the beautiful quilts her friends made. Most sold them as a way to supplement their family’s income. All of her drawings were carefully stored in a closet in her bedroom. As it was, Paul wouldn’t even have known about
her artwork except that he’d come upon her working on a new sketch at the edge of the back field last week.

  The image she’d been drawing was of the freshly mowed hayfield. She’d been drawing the soft, round bales of hay, trying to capture the feel of the image before her, of the golden hues against the dark earth and the sky being bathed in the soft colors of dusk. The black-and-white sketch hadn’t done the scene justice, but Lizzie didn’t have any colors to use on the picture. She’d captured the image as best she could, with her pencil on the heavy white paper.

  Resting her head against the doorjamb, she let her imagination wander. The idea that she could add color to her sketches and breathe life into them had her pushing the door open a crack. Seeing the opportunity, Paul shoved the bag into her hand.

  “I know you can make good use of these. Your drawings are amazing, Lizzie.”

  She felt the skin on her cheeks warm with a blush. Lizzie didn’t get many compliments. “Danke,” she said, gripping the paper bag in her hand. “How is your family?”

  Paul shrugged, answering, “They are fine. We’ve been busy at the shop.”

  Paul’s family owned a cabinetmaking business. Even with him and his three bruders all working at the shop, they always seemed to be busy. All the more reason Lizzie appreciated the time he took to stop by to check on her family. There was only Lizzie left here to help on the farm. Her older sister, Mary, had married and moved away to her husband’s church district last year. There were no other siblings left. Her mudder had been unable to have more children. Her vader worked from long before sunup to sundown, running their small dairy farm. Lizzie helped where she could, selling eggs, jams and baked goods at the roadside stand.

  The farm life wasn’t an easy one. Even so, she knew her vader wouldn’t live his life any other way. She wished things were different. If she had a husband, he could help out. But Lizzie couldn’t even imagine entering into a courtship. Absently she rubbed the side of her face. The scar was a constant reminder of the life she couldn’t have. Most days she didn’t even leave the farm. She felt safe and secure here, away from the prying eyes of those who wanted to see her face, those whose expressions carried all the questions of wanting to know what had happened to leave that mark on her.