by Sarah Price
“WHAT’S THIS? DO I HEAR A LITTLE SONGBIRD?”
At the sound of a man’s voice, Sadie jumped up, causing her foot to slip so it slid partially into the water. The only thing that stopped her from falling headfirst into the stream was her quick reflexes. Putting out her hand, she grabbed onto an overhanging branch and steadied herself, trying to regain her balance.
“Are you all right?”
Sadie turned around and found herself face-to-face with a young man. “Oh!” She almost stepped backward again, but this time, he reached out to stop her, gently grabbing her by the elbow.
“Careful now there! You’ll be a wet songbird in a second if you’re not more careful.”
One look at the man and she knew that he, too, was Amish. His plain dress and the straw hat he wore made that obvious. His thick brown hair, curly at the edges, poked out from beneath the hat’s brim and his big hazel eyes stared down on her.
“You frightened me,” she gasped as she removed her arm from his grasp.
“My apologies,” he said as he moved away from her, allowing her to relax a bit. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” When he smiled, his teeth were white and his face was pleasantly kind. “You can imagine my surprise to stumble upon such a sight. I’ve walked this way many times on my way back from my cousins’ haus to Echo Creek and this is the first time I’ve ever seen another soul out here.” He tilted his head. “And such a pretty one at that, not to mention your beautiful voice.”
Also by Sarah Price
Belle: An Amish Retelling of Beauty and the Beast
Ella: An Amish Retelling of Cinderella
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
SADIE
An Amish Retelling of Snow White
SARAH PRICE
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
“WHAT’S THIS? DO I HEAR A LITTLE SONGBIRD?”
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Recipes
Teaser chapter
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Copyright © 2018 by Price Publishing
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-4508-3
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4509-0
eISBN-10: 1-4201-4509-6
Prologue
Outside the sitting room window, the snow fell like fluffy wisps of cotton, covering the fields in a blanket of white. The dusty lane that led to the farmhouse slowly disappeared as Sarah Whitaker stared out the frosty panes of glass, one hand on her enlarged belly and the other holding small yellow squares of fabric. She knew that she should be focusing on the quilted baby blanket and not on the weather. It was almost finished. But the beauty of the winter’s first snowfall kept her mesmerized instead.
Perhaps it was the pregnancy that made her so emotional. Or maybe it was the good fortune that had befallen her during the past twelve months. Regardless, she felt the sting of happy tears in her eyes, and she lifted one hand to wipe them away with her fingers.
“Sarah?”
At the sound of her name, she turned from the window and smiled as her husband walked toward her. He was a large man, taller than most of the Amish in Echo Creek. And his dark beard was finally filling in. Gone was the patchiness of his newly grown beard, replaced with a nice, full set of thick whiskers that covered his strong jawline.
He crossed the room, passing through the small kitchen and into the open sitting room, which still smelled like fresh paint and newly varnished wood. Kneeling before her, he reached for her hand and searched her face.
Sarah shivered at his touch.
“You cold?” he asked, his bright blue eyes filled with concern.
“Nee,” she whispered, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “The fire’s keeping the room warm enough, but danke, Jacob.”
He didn’t look convinced. “I can fetch more wood.”
Sarah laughed softly. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Such a gut husband, she thought. How had she ever managed to win his heart and hand? During her rumschpringe, many of the young women in Echo Creek had been eager to ride home in Jacob Whitaker’s buggy. Somehow, however, Sarah had been the one to catch his eye, mayhaps at worship service just prior to her turning sixteen, for, at only the second youth singing she had attended, he had laid claim to her.
It was during one of the breaks, when the songs were put on hold so the young people could get a cool drink of lemonade, that Jacob had sent his older brother, John, to where Sarah was standing with her friends in the far corner of the barn. A nervous John shuffled his feet as he approached them, then quietly asked Sarah if she’d consider riding home with Jacob in his buggy.
That was just the way things were done in Echo Creek.
And, with a blush on her cheeks and her eyes focused on the hay beneath her bare feet, Sarah had said yes.
“How’s the baby?” Jacob asked. He hesitated before he reached out and placed his large hand on her stomach.
Sarah covered his hand with her own. There were so many things about Jacob that she loved. The tender way in which he handled her was just one of them. He treated her like a precious figurine, always so gentle. It was almost as if he felt she might break under his strong touch. And he was a strong man at that. Most Amish farmers were.
“She’s doing just fine,” Sarah teased.
He raised an eyebrow. “She?”
Sarah nodded her head. “Ja, she.”
Jacob tried to hide his smile. She could see that by the way the corners of his lips twitched. “Might be nice to start off with a boy, don’t you think?”
“There’ll be plenty of time for boys, Jacob,” Sarah said in a soft voice. “But I long so much for a dochder, someone who can help me raise our sons and keep me company when I bake bread and can vegetables. A little girl who I can teach to sew and quilt.” She glanced down at the nearly finished baby blanket.
He leaned f
orward and lifted her hand to kiss it. But as he did so, the fabric shifted, and Sarah felt the pinch of the sewing needle. “Ouch!” Instinctively, she dropped the blanket and brought her hand toward her mouth so she could suck on the top of her thumb where the needle had pierced her skin.
A look of horror crossed his face. “Did I do that?”
But Sarah merely shook her head. “It’s one of the many dangers a woman faces when she quilts a blanket, I’m afraid,” she teased. “Bound to happen again, too, so don’t you fret none, Jacob.”
Jacob, however, barely heard a word she said. Or, if he had heard, he hadn’t been listening. Instead, he hurried across the room and made his way to the kitchen sink. With amusement, Sarah followed him with her eyes, then watched as he took a clean dishcloth from the drawer, ran water over it, and hurried back to her side.
“You’re bleeding,” he said as he pulled her hand away from her mouth. Pressing the cloth to her finger, he shook his head. “I’m so clumsy sometimes,” he lamented under his breath.
Sarah responded by placing her free hand under his chin, then gently guiding him so she could look in his eyes. “Nee, Jacob. You are the kindest of men. And I can only hope that our dochder is just like you.”
Despite the worried look on his face, he gave her a soft smile.
“She’ll have your dark hair and lively blue eyes,” Sarah continued in a wistful manner as she slowly turned to gaze out the window. “And pretty porcelain skin the color of freshly fallen snow.”
At this comment, Jacob chuckled and his concern over having hurt his wife slowly disappeared. “Then you’d best give me some sons soon after. We wouldn’t want your little princess to have to help much when it comes to harvesting the fields.”
Sarah shook her head. “Oh no! No field work for her. We can’t have her porcelain skin getting all tanned and freckled, can we now?”
This time, Jacob laughed. “A spoiled Amish girl? I don’t think that would sit well with many people in Echo Creek. Nor will it help her land her own husband one day.”
“Nee, not spoiled!” Sarah made a face at him and shook her head. “That would never do, Jacob Whitaker!” Her expression softened. “Nee, our dochder will be hardworking, all right, but she’ll help me in the house while your many sons help you in the fields.”
Jacob glanced down at her hand. “Looks like it stopped bleeding.” His eyes traveled to the window that Sarah was still gazing through. “And the snow’s sure falling harder.” He gave a reluctant sigh. “Reckon I best be settling the livestock down for the evening, then.”
He leaned over and placed a soft kiss upon her forehead. Sarah shut her eyes, savoring the moment. When he pulled away, she took a deep breath and prayed her thankfulness to God for having seen fit to grant her a place in Jacob’s heart. She also prayed her gratitude to God for allowing her to conceive so soon after her and Jacob’s spring wedding. As she laid both palms on her swollen belly, she could hardly believe how God’s goodness had blessed them both in these ten short months. And lastly, she prayed her hope to God for the health of her unborn child.
“One dochder,” she whispered when she finally opened her eyes. “Just one, God. And then a whole houseful of boys for Jacob.”
Oh yes. Sarah could envision her daughter, a smaller and more petite version of Jacob. Yes, she’d have dark hair like his and fair skin, as white and unblemished as freshly fallen snow. Sarah glanced at her thumb and noticed a small bead of dried red blood on the spot where the needle had pierced her skin. The color reminded her of Jacob’s red lips, which, when he smiled, lit up her heart. Yes, her dochder would surely have those, too.
Outside the window, Sarah watched Jacob’s tall, lean figure, hunched over to protect himself from the blowing wind, as he made his way across the front yard and headed toward the dairy barn. The snow was falling faster now, just as Jacob had predicted a few minutes earlier.
Without a radio or television, the Amish had no way of knowing how much snow was expected. But Sarah didn’t care. There was enough food in the pantry to last them for days, if not weeks. They had no need to leave the small farm outside of Echo Creek, and with the baby not due for another six weeks, Sarah had no fears or worries.
As long as she had Jacob, she knew she would always be taken care of, and so would their child, regardless of whether it was a son or a daughter. Of that, Sarah was sure and certain.
Chapter One
There was nothing in the world that made Sadie happier than being outside among the dairy cows. How she loved to sit on the large, flat rock near the stream, listening to the herd as the animals grazed in her father’s pasture, chewing on the last remnants of summer’s sweet grass or stepping into the stream to take a long drink of the cool water.
Overhead, the sky was clear, and it seemed as if the birds were singing their praise for the perfect weather. God had surely blessed this day. Sadie watched as they flew from the nearby fields to the edge of the forest, then back to the stream to dip their beaks in the shallow pools by the water’s edge.
Sadie pulled her knees up, pressing them against her chest, then wrapped her arms around them. Her dark blue dress covered her legs but her toes poked out from beneath the tattered hem. She wiggled them, loving the way the smooth rock felt against the bottom of her bare feet.
In a few weeks it would be autumn, and, with that, the colder weather would soon descend on Echo Creek. She’d have to wear a wool sweater and shoes whenever she escaped the farmhouse to sit among the fields and spend time with the animals. She loved being there, listening to the water as it babbled along its journey, hearing the birds sing and watching the black-and-white cows graze among the last of summer’s wildflowers.
A sigh escaped her ruby red lips and she let her arms drop from her knees. Leaning back, her palms pressed against the smooth rock, supporting her weight. Sadie shut her eyes and lifted her chin to the setting sun.
The rays fell upon her pale skin and she could feel the last remnants of their warmth as they danced across her face. She smiled to herself. Oh, how she enjoyed being outside, especially since it was on rare occasions that she managed to escape the many indoor chores of the farmhouse. Too often, she was stuck inside. There was always something that needed to be done besides the daily cleaning and cooking. Why, just the other day, she had spent all afternoon canning the last vegetables from their garden in preparation for the long winter ahead. And now that the days were getting shorter, there would be even less opportunity to spend time in the midst of nature.
That thought saddened her.
Winter was her least favorite season of the year, and not just because of the change in weather. Spending more time inside the house meant more time with her stepmother, Rachel. And, even though she loved her father dearly, sitting with him and her stepmother after the supper meal was her least favorite thing to do.
It wasn’t that Sadie didn’t love her stepmother the way she did her father. She did. However, ever since Sadie’s father had married Rachel, the evenings had become the absolute worst time of the day.
Rachel seemed to enjoy nothing more than taking all of Jacob’s attention. If Jacob asked Sadie a question, Rachel was always quick to answer for her, before changing the topic to one that interested her. And if Sadie did manage to sneak in an answer, Rachel always found a way to challenge or dismiss her.
Why, if Sadie claimed that the sky was blue, Rachel would find a way to turn even that around. It was almost as if Rachel intentionally tried to monopolize Jacob, and Sadie often wondered if Rachel felt threatened by the close father-daughter bond that she shared with her father.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Rachel seemed so intent on having her own babies.
Just three years prior, when she was thirty-three years old and Sadie just fifteen, Rachel had married Jacob. It had been an odd match, especially since Rachel wasn’t from their small community of Echo Creek but from a neighboring sect several miles away.
Sadie vividly rem
embered when her father had told her that he would be taking a new wife.
“A mother for you,” he had said, “and a wife to give me company when you are old enough to leave here and start your own family.”
Sadie hadn’t been upset. Instead, she had taken comfort in the thought that a young woman would give her father new life. It had been many years since her mother had passed away and it was time for Jacob to begin living again.
So, Sadie had welcomed Rachel with open arms.
But Jacob had been wrong. Rachel wasn’t much of a mother to her. Perhaps it was because Sadie was already a young woman herself, being already fifteen and too old for Rachel to have much influence on her upbringing. But she certainly impacted Sadie’s life in other ways.
In the beginning, she had been kind to Sadie and never spoke a harsh word to her. Instead, she tried her hardest to be Sadie’s friend. She wanted them to do everything together: laundry, cleaning, cooking, even gardening, which was Sadie’s favorite chore of all. It was the one chore that she looked forward to because she could commune with nature for hours on end. While she weeded, she loved to watch the bunnies as they tried to make their way under the fence to nibble a sweet lettuce leaf, or the chipmunk families that would dart between the rows of carrots and celery. Sadie knew all the little families by sight and even had funny names for some of them.
But there wasn’t a day that passed when Rachel didn’t mention one and only one thing: having her own children.
Rachel Whitaker was determined to give Jacob a large family. “Every man wants lots of kinner,” she had said to Sadie one morning when she had shared her delight that she had skipped her monthly course. “I cannot wait to give him that gift which he truly desires,” she announced while placing the palm of her hand on her stomach.