We don’t see him much at church anymore.
I don’t know if Ethan and I will ever tell J the truth. I suppose we should—someday. But I’ll happily leave that for the future.
Of course, the district folks figured out why Ethan and I were wed so quietly and so quickly. It didn’t take much of a brain to figure that out. But folks seem content to believe the baby is Ethan’s, and we’ve said nothing to counter their belief. Not that such things are discussed outright anyway. But now, after nearly a year, all of that is forgotten, and Ethan and I are just a regular folks.
I never thought I’d consider that with such reverence. In truth, I never really cared who accepted me or who didn’t—I was too busy living my own life. But now, with tiny J, it makes a big difference, and I’m grateful to be counted as regular district members.
Goodness, am I becoming settled? The very thought would have curdled my blood a year ago. How things change.
We’re happy, Ethan and J and me. Every day brings something precious. Like J’s first smile. Like his first sloppy bite of solid food. Like how he sat up the first time—even though, I admit I was bracing his back a little.
And precious moments like Ethan’s and my first month anniversary. And our second month. And our third. Ethan insists we go out to dinner every month to celebrate. I’ve never known such a tender-hearted man.
And precious moments like the first time I told Ethan I loved him. I will never forget the tears that sprang to his eyes, the look of joy on his face, or the tender way he kissed me. Now I tell him all the time. I can’t help it—it bursts from me at the oddest moments, and well, I’ve never been one to keep my mouth shut.
During our quiet evenings, after J is asleep, Ethan often brings up topics of conversation I’ve never considered. Or he’ll bring up some new idea about his business… Or he’ll suggest a book we can read together. There is never a dull moment with him. His mind is a marvel to me, and I like being swept up in it.
I’m excited for the day when I am with child again. Little J needs a sibling. Ethan laughs at my enthusiasm, but I can tell he’s pleased.
Sometimes when I’m rocking J, and both of us are getting drowsy, I wonder what the year ahead will bring. My mind gets dreamy with imaginings, and I find myself eager for whatever Gott has for us—Ethan and J and me. But at the same time, I’m content. Deeply content to be exactly where I am in life.
I guess that’s what faith is all about. And redemption. And forgiveness.
And Gott’s amazing love.
The End
Continue Reading…
Thank you for reading The Buggy Shop! Are you wondering what to read next? Why not read Caring for Susie? Here’s a peek for you:
Amy Yoder patted her friend Grace’s tummy. “Should be any day, ain’t so?”
Grace nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes. Then she snapped to attention. “Nee! Not any day. I’ve got a gut month left.”
“You’re big enough to be any day,” Amy said, laughing softly. “I’m excited for you, Grace.”
“It’ll be your turn soon enough,” Grace said, shifting her bulky weight in the rocking chair. She set to rocking again, taking another sip of her lemonade.
“I ain’t even engaged, so I don’t think it’ll be my turn for quite some time yet.”
Grace leaned closer. “Peter hasn’t declared himself?”
Amy shook her head. “Nee.” She frowned slightly. “You think he ever will?”
Grace laughed. “Ach, Amy. You fret too much. Of course, he will. He’s smitten with you, for sure and for certain.”
Amy leaned back in the porch swing. “I thought he was. But why hasn’t he said anything yet? Goodness, I’m twenty years old. Soon, I’ll be an old maidal.”
Grace laughed again. “You’re hardly an old maid yet, Amy.”
Amy grinned. “I s’pose not. What are you going to name the boppli?”
“Andrew has in mind to name it Ross if it’s a boy. I favor Susie if it’s a girl.”
“Ross or Susie.” Amy smiled. “They’re right nice names. Which do you hope for?”
“I’ll gladly take whatever the Lord Gott gives us. I just pray for a happy, healthy boppli.”
Amy stood. “Can I get you some more lemonade?”
“Ach, nee. If I drink anymore, I won’t make it home without visiting someone’s bathroom.”
“Well, Deacon Elias’s house is on your way home,” Amy suggested with a gleam in her eye. Deacon Elias had a reputation for being a harsh man, and Amy couldn’t imagine stopping by to use his bathroom.
Grace rolled her eyes. “Jah. I’m going to stop there all right.” Then she laughed and stood up. “I need to be getting home. Andrew will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.”
“I imagine he’ll know exactly where you’ve gotten to,” Amy said. “He won’t mind.”
“He will if I don’t get supper on the table right quick,” Grace said, already stepping down the porch stairs. She leaned heavily on the rail. “I feel as big as your dat’s barn over there.”
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About the Author
I am blessed to live in part-time in Indiana, a state I share with many Amish communities, and part-time in Costa Rica. One of my favorite activities is exploring other cultures. My husband, Paul, and I have two grown children and five precious grandchildren. I love to hole up in our lake cabin and write. You’ll also often find me walking the shores by the sea. Happy Reading !
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The Buggy Shop (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 15