Her Secret Amish Child

by Cheryl Williford

  “What happened?” A terrible rage built in his gut, tearing at him.

  “Jonah became abusive with his words and his hands.” She turned her head toward the wall, her eyes staring.

  “Why didn’t you contact your father?” Fredrik demanded.

  “I tried, but Jonah found out. I was punished, kept in a room, my arm chained to the bed like a dog. When my time came, Jonah’s mother delivered our kinner. Benuel was taken from me at birth, only brought to me to nurse.”

  She turned back to Fredrik, her wide gaze showing her need for understanding. “I was seldom allowed to see him that first year. He lived on Jonah’s parents’ farm, miles away. I was only allowed to be around the child if I behaved. Obeyed Jonah’s every word.

  “But then Jonah died and I was suddenly freed. One of the women helped me get away with Benuel in tow. She understood what I’d been going through, what most of the women in that community go through. That day you almost hit Benuel was my first day home. I was still in shock.”

  “And I almost ran you both down.” Fredrik felt a shiver go through him.

  “Ya, you did.”

  “I must have been a thorn in your flesh.”

  “Not a thorn for certain-sure.”

  “Why did you protect me, Lizbeth? You should have—”

  “Nee, you can’t say what I should have done. You didn’t love me. Our love was one-sided. That night happened because I wanted it to. You have no blame in this. You didn’t even remember.”

  “You have to know that fact doesn’t make me feel any better. I had strong feelings for you. I should have realized something like this could happen. But you were still so young. I thought if I waited...”

  “You said you loved me that night,” she said, her eyes damp with tears. She studied his face.

  Fredrik drew her to him, with his good arm wrapping around her waist. “I did love you, silly woman. Can’t you see it in my eyes?”

  Lizbeth’s lips lifted in a perfect bow, her joy shining in her blue eyes. “I do see the love, Fredrik. For the first time I see true love and it is almost more than I can manage. I want so badly for you to kiss me.”

  Fredrik lowered his head, his lips touching her, pressing down until he could no longer breathe and had to pull away. “You take my breath away, Lizbeth.”

  “I think the smoke did that,” she purred, snuggling close.

  “Nee, it was you, my love.”

  Epilogue

  A Christmas wedding was more than Lizbeth had dared hope for, but for the past few months Fredrik had seemed set on making her every dream come true.

  He wore his best blue shirt and trousers, his hair trimmed expertly around his ears. The shade of his blue eyes darkened as he held her gaze and spoke his vows of unwavering love to her. “You are my one true love. I will be devoted to you and Benuel till my last breath.”

  A smile played on her lips as they were announced man and wife. Thank You, Gott. They were finally a familye.

  “Ya, this is the part of the wedding I like best,” Otto Fischer said and chortled as he wedged himself between Fredrik and Lizbeth on the church platform. “Congregation... I take great pleasure in introducing to you... Fredrik and Lizbeth Lapp. May Gott’s blessings rest upon them and, in His benevolent mercy, allow all their problems to be little ones. Now let’s eat! A man grows hungry after such a long service.”

  Benuel bounded from the bench at the side of the church and shouted to his mother, “Is he finally my daed now?”

  Lizbeth’s tears of joy rolled down her cheeks as Fredrik picked the small boy up in his arms and carried him out the church door, declaring emphatically, “Ya, I am your daed, Benuel. We have much to talk about, you and I.”

  Lizbeth hurried along after her two favorite men and sat on the same wooden bench well hidden under the old oak tree draped with moss at the side of the church.

  Benuel glanced at his mother’s face, saw her glistening tears and frowned, his rusty brows lowering. “Are you sad, Mamm? I thought you wanted to marry Fredrik?”

  “I did. I do.” She chuckled, brushing away her tears. “These are tears of joy. I love being married to your father.”

  “My friend Joseph said Fredrik’s not really my daed,” Benuel said, scratching at the stiff collar of his blue church shirt. “You are my daed, right?” he asked, looking at Fredrik for confirmation.

  “I am, and have always been, Benuel. For a time, Jonah took care of you as a substitute daed, but I have always been your real father. I’m sorry I couldn’t always be with you to protect and love you.”

  “You were my daed when I was a baby?” Benuel asked, his eyes growing round with wonder.

  Lizbeth held her breath, her eyes seeking Fredrik’s face. She smiled tenderly, looking into his blue-eyed gaze and thanking him for loving her enough to make this transition easier for Benuel. The boy was still too young to completely understand, but given time and patience, he would recognize life wasn’t always cut-and-dried, didn’t always go the way it should.

  Fredrik sat the child on his lap, hugged him close. “I was your daed when you were born, but your mother couldn’t find me. I had gone far away and she was alone and needed someone. Jonah promised to take care of you and your mother until she found me.”

  Benuel looked up, his eyes misty, the edges of his small mouth turned down. “Jonah was mean to my mamm. He made her cry.”

  Lizbeth thought her heart would break as a tear rolled down Benuel’s cheek and then another. “But Jonah is gone now and Ishmael will come no more,” she assured him in a firm voice. She smiled toward Fredrik, taking in the glint of red in his hair, his sweet smile. “Your daed will make sure of that. You need never think about Ohio again.”

  The child leaned back against Fredrik and sighed, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his chest. “It’s gut, ya, mamm? I have a real father.”

  A peace came over her unlike any she’d ever felt before. “Ich ish gut, Benuel. We are a family at last.”

  Benuel moved his leg back and forth, his face relaxed into a hopeful smile. “Can I have a bruder now that I have a real father? I’ve always wanted a bruder to play with.”

  Fredrik looked Lizbeth’s way, his eyes searching. She’d told him about her sohs who had died, their lives cut short by the abuse she’d endured from Jonah. Could she have more children? Only Gott knew that answer, but Fredrik had said he was fine with one child or many. “If it is Gott’s will, you will have a bruder and maybe a schweschder, too.”

  “I’d like a bruder more,” Benuel admitted with a smile and then squirmed down off his father’s legs and ran around the churchyard, his energy suppressed far too long.

  “He took the news well,” Fredrik said and hugged her close, his lips coming down on hers in a warm kiss. “Now let’s get something to eat before my belly has a say in all that matters. The hour grows late.”

  Arm in arm the newlyweds walked back into the church, their son at their side. Life often took many sharp twists and turns, but Gott’s will was finally done.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed HER SECRET AMISH CHILD,

  look for these other Love Inspired titles

  by Cheryl Williford.

  THE AMISH WIDOW’S SECRET

  THE AMISH MIDWIFE’S COURTSHIP

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE COWBOY’S EASTER FAMILY WISH by Lois Richer.

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  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for returning to the quaint little Amish tourist town of Pinecraft, Florida, and investing yourself in
the lives of Lizbeth Mullet, Chicken John’s widowed daughter, and Fredrik Lapp, Mose Fischer’s newest furniture builder and salesperson. God revealed this fantastic young couple’s past to me as I wrote my first two Pinecraft books, The Amish Widow’s Secret and The Amish Midwife’s Courtship. What a treat it was to unwind the strings of the past that bind these two hearts together in love. I’d appreciate hearing from those of you who enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Contact me at: cheryl.williford@att.net.

  Cheryl Williford

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  The Cowboy's Easter Family Wish

  by Lois Richer

  Chapter One

  “That’s not Dad’s peanut butter.” Eight-year-old Noah looked shocked by his own blurted words. He quickly ducked his chin into his chest.

  “We could try it.” Fully aware of how much the busy Tucson grocery store aggravated her son’s autism, Maddie McGregor hesitantly suggested, “You might like this kind.”

  “I like Dad’s kind. So do twenty million other people according to ads.” Noah always recited facts he’d memorized. “Dad’s rule was, buy the bestseller.” And he always quoted his father’s rules.

  Noah’s hands were fluttering, a sign of his mounting agitation. Changing peanut butter brands right now wasn’t worth it. Maddie set the jar back on the shelf reluctantly. She was giving in to Noah’s rules. She’d vowed to stop doing that. But it had been a long day and giving in was easier than dealing with his upset behavior for the rest of the evening.

  “Twenty million people could be wrong.” His expression said arguing was futile. “Okay, you choose.” She almost groaned when Noah selected the same oily brand his father had preferred. So much for her goal to break free of the past.

  “You should give the other kind a try,” a male voice suggested. “It’s the one with the nut on top and if you’re going to eat nut butter, you need many nuts.”

  “Many nuts eating nuts. Ha!” Noah’s burble of laughter erupted, then died away.

  Maddie turned to find a pair of twinkling blue eyes studying her from an angular sun-tanned face atop a lean, lanky cowboy. Her first thought was how carefree he looked. Her second turned to envy of his confident, relaxed stance. He looked so comfortable in his world.

  When she noted a fan of tiny creases beside his eyes her envy died. He, like everyone else, no doubt had some story of past pain. She wondered half-absently what that story was before noticing the man’s short cropped hair was the same shade of gold as a tropical sandy beach she’d once dreamed of visiting. And his shoulders—well, that broad width was the perfect place for a girl to rest her head.

  Not this girl, of course, but—Maddie’s cheeks burned as she visualized her late husband Liam’s berating if he knew her shameful thoughts.

  Forget him. You’re breaking free of the past, remember?

  But how to do that when her self-confidence was nil?

  “I’m a peanut butter expert, ma’am.” The stranger’s smile coaxed her to respond to his joke. “Trust me, that brand tastes way better than the one the boy and twenty million others mistakenly prefer.”

  “Noah.” Maddie’s heart winced when her son’s brown eyes flickered to the man, then skittered away, his face closing into its usual disinterested mask.

  “Sorry?” The peanut butter expert arched an eyebrow.

  “His name is Noah.” Maddie hoped the stranger wouldn’t comment on her son’s now swaying body.

  “Noah—like the guy with the ark,” the man remarked. Something in his teasing tone caught Noah’s attention, Maddie noticed. “You have lots of animals?” he continued.

  “A dog. Her name is Cocoa.” The swift response surprised Maddie.

  “Why Cocoa?” The man looked interested, not merely polite.

  “’Cause she’s a chocolate lab,” Noah clarified. “Dogs should be named by their features. It’s not a rule but—”

  “It’s a good idea,” the stranger finished with a nod.

  “Yeah.” Noah’s eyes widened with surprise at his agreement.

  Maddie stared at her child. Noah didn’t talk or interact with strangers. Not ever.

  “Chocolate labs are the best.” The man thrust out his hand. “I’m Jesse Parker.”

  Though Noah hesitated, he couldn’t ignore the gesture. His father had drummed politeness into him, one of his many unbreakable rules. Sure enough, Noah finally thrust out his small hand.

  “Glad to meet, you, Noah, owner of Cocoa.” Jesse’s blue gaze slid to her. “And your lovely mother is?”

  “Maddie McGregor.” She liked the way Jesse included her.

  “Maddie McGregor.” He said it slowly, his forehead furrowed as if he was reaching for a stray thought. Then those blue eyes widened. “Not the amazingly talented quilter named Maddie McGregor who works for my grandmother at Quilt Essentials?”

  Amazing? Talented? No one had ever called her that before.

  “Grandmother—?” Maddie tried to put it together while distracted by his good looks. “Oh.” Suddenly it made sense. “You’re Emma’s grandson.”

  “The best one of the bunch.” He preened, then laughed. “You look shocked.”

  “No, I—that is, I wasn’t expecting...” Thrown by his mischievous wink, Maddie gulped.

  “Ninety-five percent of all children think their grandparents love them the best,” said Noah, who didn’t have any grandparents.

  “In my case it’s true.” Jesse grinned.

  “Emma always speaks of you as if you’re four,” Maddie blurted. Her cheeks burned when Jesse’s hoot of amusement rippled to the ceiling. She almost checked over one shoulder before correcting the impulse.

  It’s been more than a year since Liam’s death. He’s gone. You’re free now. Free.

  “I guess I act that age sometimes,” Jesse joked, and laughed again.

  All down the grocery store aisle, heads turned to study him, and Maddie knew why. His laugh revealed the sam
e zest for life that his grandmother possessed, the kind that beckoned you to join in. Maddie was pretty sure Jesse would be fun to be around.

  Not that she was looking for fun. She was too old, too world-weary, too responsible for that kind of girlish silliness. Still, Jesse intrigued her.

  “We have to go.” Noah frowned at her.

  Maddie studied him in confusion. Noah never volunteered conversation when strangers were present. Even more unusual, his agitated arm movements had ceased.

  “What’s the rush?” Jesse asked.

  “Ice cream.” While Noah pointed into the cart, Maddie wondered why her son was apparently unruffled when speaking to this stranger. But it didn’t matter. Better to leave now, before something else upset Noah. Because something always did.

  “Nice to meet you, Jesse. Thanks for the advice.” In an act of defiance, she grabbed the jar of peanut butter Jesse had recommended and put it in her cart. Baby steps to independence, she thought defiantly.

  “Uh, Maddie?” Jesse’s amused voice stopped her in her tracks. She couldn’t help contrasting his tone with a memory of Liam’s beguiling-when-it-wanted-to-be voice that could also cut like a sword.

  Immediately, her tension returned. Schooling her face into impassivity, she glanced at Jesse. “Yes?”

  “I’ve been trying to reach my grandmother by phone with no success.” His sincere friendliness chased away her tension. “I’ve stopped by her house a couple of times, but she doesn’t answer.”

  “No, she wouldn’t.” Maddie almost groaned as Noah mumbled statistics about meeting strangers. Hopefully, Jesse hadn’t noticed her discomfiture.