Amish Winter Wonderland: BOOK TWO (Jacob's Daughter, An Amish, Christian Romance)

by Samantha Jillian Bayarr

  “Lillian never did tell me why she was here yesterday. I was so busy enjoying her company and her help that I never asked her. Does her visit mean the two of you are finally courting?”

  Seth let out a heavy sigh. “Since you brought up the subject of her helping here yesterday, can you please tell me why she was serving you food when I came in the haus last night? By the sparkle in this kitchen, I can tell you didn’t clean it, and the food was too tasty for you to have prepared it. How could you embarrass me like that, daed?”

  “You think I let her wash the dishes and cook our meal because I was trying to embarrass you? I thank Der Herr that she came along when she did because if she hadn’t, I might have frozen to death before you left the barn. I got dizzy and slipped on the stoop. There’s no telling how long I sat out there in the cold before she brought me in the haus and put some hot kaffi in me. I’m not well, son. I’ve known for some time now, since my outing with Doctor Davis over the summer. I’m getting progressively worse, and it’s probably going to get worse as time goes by. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I know you’ve noticed changes in me lately.”

  Seth raked his fingers through his thick hair. “What is wrong with you? Can it be fixed?”

  Hiram tried to paste a smile on his face. “It doesn’t matter. When Der Herr decides it’s my time, then that’s the final word. I’ve made my peace with it, and I think you should too. None of us knows when it’s our time, but I happen to know mine is sooner than yours.”

  Tears welled up in Seth’s eyes. “Is there anything the doc can do?”

  “He mentioned aggressive medicines, but it would only buy me a few more months, and I would be too sick and too weak to enjoy the time I have left.”

  Seth was almost afraid to speak the words, but he had to know what he was dealing with. “Did he say how long you have?”

  “Maybe another year. And I’d like to see you and Lillian get married, so don’t waste any more time with her. I want to have grandkinner from the two of you, so make your move son. You’d be a fool to let her slip away.”

  All the anger over Lillian’s help now pointed to himself for being so petty. To let his pride get in the way of the woman he loved would be pure foolishness.

  “I won’t Daed. I promise.”

  ****

  Seth picked up Lillian for their first official date. She chose to go sledding at Bonnyville Mill, but he didn’t care where they went as long as they were together. She’d brought an extra quilt and a thermos full of hot cocoa so they would stay warm. Seth put her long sled into the back of the buggy, and they were off on their first outing together.

  When they arrived at the park, Seth was surprised and happy that there were only a few kids sledding. He looked forward to a quiet afternoon with Lillian in the snow. Lillian, it seemed had a different idea. She picked up a handful of snow and tossed it at him playfully.

  “Are you sure you want to challenge me? Remember I won the last snowball fight.”

  Lillian laughed at him. “You didn’t win. I did.”

  “I know one thing I’ll bet I’m better at than you are.”

  Lillian laughed again even harder. “I doubt that.”

  “I happen to be the best at making snowmen.”

  Lillian hooked her arm in Seth’s and pointed to a stretch of undisturbed snow near a patch of pine trees. “If we build him together, I’ll bet he’ll be even better.”

  Seth agreed, and they each started a small snowball, rolling them along the ground until they increased in size. Seth stopped and watched Lillian for a minute, noting that every other roll, she’d turn the ball of snow to make the packing on of snow more even.

  What a smart idea.

  He mirrored her technique, and before long they had the bottom and the middle. Seth looked around the base of the trees for items they could use to bring the snowman to life while Lillian rolled the top piece that would be his head.

  With rocks to form his mouth, nose and eyes, Seth stood back to observe their handiwork. “He’s missing something—don’t you think so?”

  Lillian tipped Seth’s hat off his head and placed it on their snowman.

  Seth put his hand under his chin thoughtfully. “He looks kind of like Bishop Troyer. What do you think?”

  Lillian laughed. “You’re right, he does.”

  Seth pulled Lillian’s hands in his. “Do you think he’ll marry us?”

  Lillian nearly lost her breath at his question.

  “What?”

  Seth knelt down before her. “Lillian, I’ve loved you for a very long time, and was too much of a coward to tell you. But I promise you that if you marry me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for lost time with you. I need you in my life to keep me grounded. You make me happy, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  Lillian couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d longed for this moment for so long, and now that it was happening, she was having a tough time believing it.

  Happy tears welled up in her eyes as she threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Seth Miller. Yes I will marry you.”

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  CHAPTER 30

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  Lillian rushed into the haus after Seth dropped her off. She couldn’t wait to tell Hannah about the proposal. Almost before she finished her story, the two of them were crying happy tears, and Hannah insisted they have a double wedding. That was only three weeks away, but she would discuss it with Seth, knowing he would think it was a gut idea. They’d already been in love for so long that waiting would just be cruel.

  ****

  On Christmas day, members of the community gathered in the garden of the Miller Bed & Breakfast for the double wedding ceremony. A light snow fluttered down from the heavens just for them, it would seem, and Lillian was so nervous she could barely contain herself. Deciding to wear the dress that Hannah had made for her so she could catch Seth’s attention, they’d made a sheer white apron to go over the top of it that matched the one Hannah wore.

  As they stood before the Bishop waiting for the blessing of the marriage, Lillian looked over at Seth who was grinning from one ear to the other.

  I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Denki, Gott for blessing me with more than I could have ever asked for.

  ****

  When the last of the wedding guests left the B&B, Seth took his bride upstairs to the room they would stay in for the night. He sat on the bed and pulled Lillian toward him, pressing his lips gently against hers. She leaned into the kiss with a sense of urgency that made Seth eager for her, but they had the rest of their lives to be together, and he intended to take his time learning everything about her. For now, he had a gift for her—a gift that he felt would help them begin their lives together.

  Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a tiny object and stopped kissing her long enough to slip it into her hand.

  Lillian turned the rock over in her hand a few times, and chuckled to herself knowingly.

  “What is this for?”

  She knew what it was, but she wanted to hear him say it.

  Seth smiled. “It’s the first keepsake for the spice box—something to begin earmarking our life together. It’s one of the rocks from our snowman.”

  Lillian couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled out a similar rock from the fold of her wedding dress. “I have one too, and I’d almost forgotten about it. I took the poor snowman’s nose when you weren’t looking.”

  Seth laughed. “If that isn’t the best sign that you were meant to be my fraa, I don’t know what is.”

  He kissed her again, letting his lips trail to her ear.

  “I have a feeling we’re going to need a bigger box for our mementos.”

  Lillian let the rocks slip from her hands and leaned into her husband’s kiss. She couldn’t have agreed with Seth more, but for some things, Lillian doubted she would need a keepsake box to remember them. She would keep each moment of their love tu
cked away in her heart for always.

  THE END

  PLEASE CONTINUE READING…

  SNEAK PEEK OF

  HISTORICAL/CHRISTAN ROMANCE…

  A Sheriff’s Legacy: Book One

  Two full chapters on the next page…

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  CHAPTER ONE

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  May, 1885

  Tombstone, Arizona

  Wells Fargo stage robbed. Stop. Outlaws unaccounted for. Stop. Clayton Fisher gunned down. Stop. Critical condition. Stop.

  Marshall Tucker.

  Logan Fisher held the telegraph in his trembling fist as he exited the train onto the platform near Tombstone, Arizona. Although he’d said a quick prayer for his estranged father’s recovery, he was still reluctant to go to the dying man’s bedside. To be honest, he couldn’t even be certain which side of the law his Pa had fallen on, and he was more interested in hunting down the outlaws than seeing his Pa again. He hadn’t seen the man for over fifteen years after he’d been dropped at the doorstep of his Aunt Mirabelle and Uncle William just after his Ma had died from a rattlesnake bite.

  Pa had blamed him.

  He’d even blamed himself.

  The only one that hadn’t blamed him was Ma.

  She’d been bitten out on the prairie where she went searching for him that stormy afternoon in June. Pa had warned him time and again to stay away from the small cave etched into the rocky cliffs that bordered their spread of land, but he’d only ducked inside when the storm began to stir up into a thick veil of dust that shielded the distance between him and the ranch.

  When he heard Ma’s cry straining against the dust storm, his emotions flared. He was twelve years old, and didn’t want to be followed like a small child. But Ma knew him too well. She knew exactly where to find him, and now she was in distress from the storm. When he reached the mouth of the cave, he spotted her petite frame lying on the ground some distance from him.

  Pulling up his kerchief from around his neck to cover his mouth and nose, he stretched his spindly legs toward her. As he came upon her, that’s when he saw the snake. It reared its head only for a moment before slithering away.

  Logan knelt at his Ma’s side looking for the bite. Blood stained the dust-covered bloomers that modestly disguised her calves.

  Then he saw the bite marks.

  Both of them.

  Logan reached for the pocket knife that Pa had given him for his twelfth birthday and scored both bites. After sucking the venom from the wounds and spitting it on the ground, he lifted his canteen to his mouth to rinse the venom from his lips, and then offered a drink to his weak mother.

  She looked up at him; her hazel eyes had gone dark.

  “I love you, son.”

  He grabbed her limp hand in his. “I’m so sorry Ma. I’ll never disobey you again. I promise. Please don’t die!”

  Her eyes fluttered. “It’s not your fault, Logan. You’re a good boy. Just promise me you’ll take care of your Pa.”

  “I will, Ma. But you promise me you won’t die.”

  “I promise.”

  Her eyes closed and her breathing was shallow. She didn’t even cough against the dust swirling around her cheeks. Logan pulled his kerchief from around his neck and covered his Ma’s face against the dust whirling around.

  Knowing the doc’s cabin was on the other side of the rocky ridge; he judged the distance to be shorter than that of his own cabin. He hoisted his Ma’s thin frame into a sitting position and cupped his arms under her armpits and began to drag her backward in the loose clay toward the doc’s cabin. Each laboring step filled his lungs with more dust, but he didn’t stop to cough; he knew his Ma was failing fast.

  When the cabin came into view, he began hollering for the doc, his mouth filling with dust. His eyes were dry and his lashes were coated with the same clay dust that nearly covered his Ma’s body. Just when he thought he couldn’t pull her another foot, the doc was at his side. The older man flung his Ma over his shoulder like a sack of feed and took her into his cabin.

  Logan ran to get his Pa, leaving his Ma with the doc. When he found his Pa in the barn, he told him the story in between coughs. He’d never forget the look in his Pa’s eyes when he pulled the horse whip from the tack room and tanned his hide before riding off toward the doc’s cabin. Logan ignored the pain of his backside as he flung himself bareback over one of the geldings and rode the reluctant horse through the calming storm. When he arrived at the doc’s cabin, his Pa refused to let him see his Ma.

  She died two hours later.

  ****

  Clayton Fisher hadn’t spoken one word to his son since his wife’s death. After her burial, Clayton took his son and all of his belongings to the train station and boarded him for Texas. He’d wired ahead to his sister Mirabelle and her husband, William, who would be waiting at the other side for Logan. Over the years, his Pa sent word of his whereabouts and always included several paper notes to cover the cost of his room and board. But there was never a personal word from father to son. Logan became bitter until his aunt and uncle slowly broke through the rigid barrier with scripture and regular church-going.

  His aunt and uncle had become like parents to him. Logan had tried to help his uncle keep their small cattle ranch from falling on hard times, but it was a failing ranch when he’d arrived. Though they were unable to turn a profit after the first year he’d began boarding with them, they were able to keep food on the table with the few head of cattle they managed.

  When Logan turned seventeen, the fever claimed his Aunt Belle and Uncle Will. After laying them to rest, he joined a band of cowboys who made their living as bounty hunters. He roamed the countryside with the posse tracking wanted men for a profit. He grew up on the open range, though he’d become a man at the age of twelve the day his Ma died.

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  CHAPTER TWO

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  After fetching his horse, Buckeye, from the ventilated stock cars at the rear of the train, Logan pointed the already tired horse toward Tombstone, and settled in for the long ride to the mining town where his Pa waited for him. First stop in town would be the livery to board his horse for at least a day, since the gelding would be tired from the long train ride and travel on foot to Tombstone.

  The terrain was tough, with an abundance of deep ruts from wagon wheels jutting along the stretch of open land that isolated the mining town from the rest of civilization.

  As the town came into view, Logan could see that it was bustling with activity. Even at a distance he could hear the noises of the busy town. He steered Buckeye down the main stretch of Allen Street, noting the shops and businesses, restaurants, and over-abundance of saloons. The boardwalk was filled with people of several races; miners, prospectors and wealthy town-folk mingled along the rowdy street going about their business as though they were in a hurry.

  Logan hopped off of Buckeye in front of the OK Corral Feed & Livery Stable, and led the horse to a watering trough before entering the livery. The sign boasted ownership established by John Montgomery in 1881, and offered a number of services for horses and other livestock.

  A tall, burly man greeted him with a handshake.

  “What can I do for ya?”

  “I could use a fresh horse, and board for mine for at least a day so he can rest from the long trip from Texas.”

  The livery owner accepted the silver pieces from Logan without question. But after signing his name in the ledger, the burly man gave him a once-over and tipped his hat respectfully.

  “You here to see the Marshall?”

  Logan nodded, hoping to avoid revealing his business to the stranger.

  “You must be Clayton’s boy. You look like him.”

  Assuming the man would not have addressed his Pa by his given name if he was an outlaw, he let his guard down a little. “Yes Sir, I am. Do you know where I can find him?”

  The older man poin
ted to the opposite end of the boardwalk. “Doc’s office is above the Crystal Palace at the corner of Fifth Street, on the second floor. But they’re guarding Clay just outside of town past the fire house on Toughnut Street—near the mine. If you take Fifth Street south, it’ll get you there.”

  Logan’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe he was an outlaw after all. “Guarding him?”

  “Of course, you’ll have to stop by the Marshall’s office first so Sheriff Daniels can escort you out there. You’ll find the Marshall’s office next to the doc.”

  Logan refrained from asking the man anymore questions, feeling unsure about what the answers might be. Instead, he took the man up on his offer of a fresh mount.

  After tending to Buckeye, he saddled up and rode down to the Marshall’s office to see about his Pa. He let the horse walk at a slow pace as he took in the many businesses along the way. The streets were bustling with noisy patrons and those conducting business along the busy stretch of the city.

  Violet calico fluttering in the slight breeze caught the corner of Logan’s eye. He tried to keep his focus on the task before him, but he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the woman wearing it. Without even seeing her face, he sensed a familiarity that caused him to slow the horse to a near stand-still just long enough to bask in the unusual pull he felt coming from her. He kept his face forward as long as he could stand it, and then gazed upon her.

  He tipped his hat to avoid her thinking he was gawking at her, but he couldn’t help but stare. The breeze played with blond curls that framed her face, the rest of her hair lay at the base of her neck in a wind-blown chignon. As her lashes lifted in his direction, green eyes stared back at him, and her parasol didn’t hide the glint of sunlight that sparkled in them. She smiled as he passed her, causing his heart to skip a beat. For a moment, he let his guard down long enough to feel. But as he looked down the road to his destination, his heart hardened again with dreaded anticipation of what he was about to encounter at the Marshall’s office.