An Unexpected Amish Courtship
Page 1
FINDING THE RIGHT WORDS
“What did you want to talk about?” Sovilla asked as Snickers headed toward a tiny patch of grass and weeds.
Isaac stayed silent, trying to find the right way to reveal the truth.
Isaac jiggled Snickers’s leash to move the puppy forward. He had to see Sovilla’s face, but Snickers remained firmly planted.
“Sovilla?” Isaac breathed her name softly, reverently.
She turned when he called her, and their eyes met.
“You know h-how I feel about you, don’t you?” he asked.
She shook her head.
Couldn’t she tell? Or did she want him to put it into words?
He slipped the loop of Snickers’s leash around his wrist so he could take both of her hands in his. This moment was too special and too sacred to make a mistake ...
Books by Rachel J. Good
HIS UNEXPECTED AMISH TWINS
HIS PRETEND AMISH BRIDE
HIS ACCIDENTAL AMISH FAMILY
AN UNEXPECTED AMISH PROPOSAL
AN UNEXPECTED AMISH COURTSHIP
AMISH CHRISTMAS TWINS (with Shelley Shepard Gray and Loree Lough)
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
An UNEXPECTED AMISH COURTSHIP
RACHEL J. GOOD
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
FINDING THE RIGHT WORDS
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2021 by Rachel J. Good
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-5038-4
ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-5039-1 (eBook)
ISBN-10: 1-4201-5039-1 (eBook)
Chapter One
When a knock sounded on the front door, Sovilla Mast sloshed the mop back into the pail and hurried to answer. The mop handle clattered to the floor behind her, splashing dirty water onto the wall, the floor, and the back of her dress. Sovilla didn’t care. She’d clean everything up later.
Perhaps Henry had been able to sneak away from work during his break after all. She flung open the door, her lips curved into a joyous welcome.
“O-Onkel Lloyd?” Her smile faltered along with her words.
“You look unhappy to see me.”
“Neh, neh.” Not unhappy. Scared. Petrified. His visit signaled trouble.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” Nastiness oozed into his tone.
Sovilla loosened her white-knuckled grip on the door handle and stepped back. “S-sorry. Come in.” Ignoring her roiling stomach, she pasted on a lopsided smile she hoped he’d mistake for friendliness. “You must be tired after your trip. Would you like something to eat?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. A two-hour trip is not tiring, but it is almost mealtime.” He followed her down the hall to the kitchen.
Too late, Sovilla realized her mistake. Onkel had always chided her for untidiness.
He stopped short in the doorway. “What’s this mess? At your age, you should do a better job with chores.”
She withered under his critical stare. “I, um, had a little accident.”
“So, you’re still clumsy?” His expression reduced her to a pesky ant he’d be happy to crush under his boot.
Memories unspooled before her. All the times he’d scolded her as child for other accidents. Upsetting her glass of milk. Scorching the scrambled eggs. Shattering a plate. The list went on and on. For each infraction, he’d flayed her with his tongue.
Back then, whenever he’d thundered at her, she’d cowered. Now, at nineteen, she should be more courageous. But his contemptuous glance proved he could still make her shy and nervous.
To hide her edginess, she headed to the pantry. “Would you like spaghetti soup?”
He lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table. She assumed his grunt meant jah.
She bustled around, her muscles tense as she tried not to clank pots, bang the glass jar, or slop the sauce. Sovilla kept the flame low and stirred constantly as she heated the soup. She’d take care not to burn or spill the soup. She had no desire to hear more criticism.
For a brief moment, as they bowed their heads to pray, Sovilla exhaled a silent sigh at the temporary respite from her onkel’s glowers.
Lord, please help me to be kind and gracious.
She resisted the temptation to add, Help me to survive until Mamm gets home.
After they finished their meal, she washed the dishes and mopped under Lloyd’s watchful gaze. Knowing he planned to pounce on any errors, she worked slowly and cautiously.
Her onkel blew out an exasperated breath. “If you moved faster, you wouldn’t leave chores undone until afternoon.”
Her back to him, Sovilla squeezed her eyes shut. No matter what she did, he’d find fault. And if she tried to explain, he’d reprimand her for back-talking. She bowed her head and swished the mop across the floor in rapid jerks.
“You missed a spot.” Lloyd pointed to a place she hadn’t yet reached.
Stretching her arms, she swiped the spot he’d indicated. If only Mamm would get home.
The battery-powered clock seemed to tick off the minutes in slow motion. Once she finished her chores, they sat in the living room. Positioning himself directly opposite her, Lloyd probed for information that Sovilla parried with neutral answers, attempting to give as little information as possible. Years ago, she’d adopted that defense t
o keep her privacy.
When he’d exhausted his questions, they sat in awkward silence. The click of the door broke the tension. Mamm had arrived. Sovilla wished she could warn her mother, give her a chance to compose herself.
“Whew. We had such a busy day. I’m—” Mamm stepped into the living room and froze, her face ashen. “Lloyd? What are you doing here?”
He rose. “Is that any way to greet your brother?”
“I—I just meant we weren’t expecting you.” Mamm added a halfhearted greeting, then asked, “What brings you here?”
“You don’t sound pleased to see me.” The gloating expression on his face made it clear he enjoyed rattling her.
Without responding, Mamm sank into the closest chair as if sensing a disaster.
“I’m sure you know times are hard. Many businesses are closing.” He steepled his fingers and pinned Mamm with a searching stare. “That means I can’t afford to keep two households.”
Mamm flinched and shut her eyes as if to ward off a threat.
“This house must be sold.” Lloyd’s words fell like a hammer blow.
“Mark gave it to me. Sovilla and I have been making payments.” Mamm straightened her back and smoothed her apron over her black dress, which she still wore even though Daed had passed more than a year ago.
“But I’ve been taking care of the maintenance and taxes. Can you afford to take that on?”
Pain evident in her answer, Mamm said, “Neh.”
“Neither can I.” Lloyd leaned forward. “I can stop paying, and after a while, the government will sell the house for back taxes. Or we can sell it now for a profit.”
Mamm looked close to tears. “Mark and I moved in here when we married. We raised our children here. You can’t—” Her voice shook. “Where would we live?”
“You’ll move to Middlefield. My boys will move into one bedroom. You and your three girls can share the other bedroom.”
“Leave Sugarcreek?” Before she could stop them, the words burst from Sovilla’s lips. He couldn’t be serious.
But Mamm’s bowed head made it clear they had no choice.
Sovilla waited until Lloyd had gone to explode. “We can’t move. I’ll get another job.”
“Neh, dochder.” Mamm spoke heavily, as if she’d borne the burdens of twenty years in one afternoon. “If Lloyd needs the money for his business, we can’t be selfish.”
“But—”
Mamm held up a hand to stop Sovilla’s protest. “I’m going to lie down for a while and pray. Can you feed your sisters their supper?”
“You’re not going to eat?”
“Not tonight. I have no appetite. Please don’t say anything to the girls until I have our plans worked out.”
Sovilla’s heart plunged. Mamm looked so despondent.
The back door banged open, and her sisters’ chatter washed over Sovilla, flowing around her like waves of sound with no meaning. By rote, she settled the girls at the table with a snack, but her thoughts had carried her far away, back to the summers and holidays they’d spent at her onkel’s farm.
Once, she’d caught her three cousins in the barn smoking. Older and taller, they’d ringed her in, threatening her until she agreed not to tattle.
Sovilla had shuffled back to the house, her head bowed, uncertain whether she’d keep her promise. If a careless spark ignited the straw, the whole barn would go up in flames. An inferno that burned in her nightmares.
Later that night, when she whimpered in the dark, Mamm and Daed rushed in to comfort her and keep her quiet. But they couldn’t ease her conscience. What if keeping her cousins’ secret destroyed property or killed animals?
Each time she started to confess, a picture of her cousins’ angry faces frightened her into silence. Even now, she sometimes startled awake, trembling in terror as fire spread uncontrolled in her dreams.
Seven-year-old Martha Mae tugged at Sovilla’s apron. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.” At least not yet. Sovilla forced herself back to the kitchen, back to normality.
But life would never be normal again. Not if they moved to Middlefield.
* * *
A month later, Sovilla’s footsteps echoed through the empty rooms. The house had sold quickly to another Amish family, and Lloyd had arranged for the sale of all their furniture at an auction. Mamm had remained stoic throughout, but as the auctioneers carted out the last of their possessions, tears trickled down her cheeks.
Sovilla wrapped an arm around Mamm’s bowed shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I wish Lloyd had let you keep some of the furniture.”
“Ach, dochder, I’m not crying over that. Furniture can be replaced. You’re why my heart aches.”
“Me?” Mamm made no sense.
“I’ve seen the way your cousins bully you. Now that you’re nineteen, well, I worry—” She pinched her lips shut.
“I’ll be all right.” Sovilla’s shaky response wouldn’t lessen Mamm’s fears.
“Neh. I don’t trust them. I’ve made arrangements to send you to live with Wilma. She’s been putting off her hip surgery, so I promised you’d take care of her and the house.”
Wilma? Mamm wanted her to live with some stranger? “Who’s Wilma?”
“My sister.”
Sovilla stood there, stunned. “You have a sister named Wilma? Why haven’t we ever met her?”
“It’s a long story. She ran away during rumspringa. I never knew why. I’ll let her tell you, if she’s willing. But whatever you do, don’t pry.” Mamm opened her purse and held out an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Your tickets. Ardys at the quilt shop helped me print them.”
“Ach, Mamm, no! Don’t send me away. I’ll do whatever you want, but not that.”
Mamm’s eyes overflowed with tears. “You have to do this, dochder. This move is hard enough. Please don’t add to my burdens.”
How could Sovilla fight that? With every ounce of love in her heart, she managed to say, “I’ll do it for you, Mamm.”
She’d go for now, but as soon as Wilma recovered, Sovilla intended to find a way back to her family.
In a tear-choked voice, she asked the question, but dreaded the answer. “When do I have to leave?”
“In about ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes?” Sovilla practically screeched.
“Irene will be here to pick you up and take you to the station in New Philadelphia. The bus will take you to Harrisburg. Then you’ll catch the train to Lancaster. Wilma will meet you.”
Lancaster? Sovilla had never been farther from Sugarcreek than Middlefield. Those two-hour trips had been long and infrequent. To go all the way from Ohio to Pennsylvania? So far away she might never see her family again?
Sovilla blinked back tears. She didn’t even have time to say goodbye.
Mamm hugged her tight. “I didn’t want to tell you earlier and spoil our last few days together. I also want you out of here before Lloyd arrives in an hour. I’ll not have him changing my plans.”
“What about Henry?” They’d been courting for almost a year now, and Sovilla had been hoping he’d soon propose.
“You have a few minutes to write him a note. I’ll run over and give it to his mamm before Lloyd gets here. I’ll also give him Wilma’s phone number. Maybe he can call you from work.”
Sovilla didn’t want to spend her last few minutes with Mamm and her sisters scribbling a letter, but what choice did she have? How would she ever explain to Henry why she’d left so suddenly? And even worse, that she might never be back? If she returned to Ohio, she’d have to head to Middlefield, not Sugarcreek.
Unless Henry offered to marry her.
Chapter Two
The scent of barbecuing chicken wafted through the air as Isaac Lantz stood in front of the baked goods counter at the Green Valley Farmers Market. He inhaled the aroma and almost tasted the crisp, crackling skin, the juicy meat. His stomach growled in anticipation, but h
e hadn’t had breakfast yet.
He and his brothers had gotten here early with their lambs and chickens for the auction. Once they’d gotten set up, he’d sneaked off to get one of Fern’s delicious cinnamon buns before her bakery sold out.
Isaac held Snickers’s leash and waved away people who wanted to pet his puppy. Market regulars knew better than to touch his dogs, but strangers gave him nasty looks or huffed and turned away.
He sighed. If only he could explain. But it was too hard to keep struggling to repeat the same information over and over. That wasn’t the worst part. He hated when people stared at him, their eyes filled with pity. Or, worse yet, got angry or impatient.
Keeping a close eye on Snickers, Isaac edged up to the counter when it was his turn. He didn’t bother glancing up. Fern would bag up a cinnamon bun and hand it to him, saving Isaac from speaking.
“May I help you?” A woman’s soft, sweet voice made him look up.
He blinked several times to clear his eyes. But this definitely wasn’t Fern. Instead, a green-eyed brunette with a starched white kapp jutting straight out from the back of her head stared at him, a question shining in her eyes.
Tongue-tied, he could only gaze at this beautiful angel.
She repeated her question. “May I help you?”
Perhaps being unable to utter a word was a blessing. But she was waiting for an answer. He tapped on the glass, pointing to the two remaining cinnamon rolls.
“You want a cinnamon bun?”
His chest tight, he nodded. He longed to ask her name, to find out where she’d come from, to get to know her. But he kept his mouth closed, handed her his money, and accepted his change.
As he turned to go, she leaned over the counter. “Cute dog.” Her gentle smile twisted his insides.