The Amish Bachelor's Choice

by Jocelyn McClay

  Frantically, she rushed to the house to get the flashlight and begin a search, only slowing when she saw a glow from the kitchen window. She, like other Amish folks, never locked their homes. It could be anyone in the house. Ruth’s heart rate accelerated further. No one but Hannah, who’d just left, had visited her lately. The doorknob in the chilly Wisconsin twilight was frigid in Ruth’s sweaty hand. Before she pushed open the kitchen door, she looked back over her shoulder to confirm there wasn’t a rig in the shadowed farmyard. There’d been little fresh snow since Bess went lame, so the tracks that crisscrossed the ground leading to the barn could be hers, or someone who’d brought her home. Whoever was in the house could have put their horse and buggy in the barn. But why? Brows furrowed, Ruth hesitantly opened the door.

  The glow from the fireplace and an oil lamp on the counter outlined a figure sitting in a chair. Only a quick grab saved the basket from sliding down Ruth’s arm and onto the floor. Dazedly, she set it on the counter with a soft thud. Rascal, seated on the lap in the chair, launched himself off and scurried to greet her.

  Ruth crouched to the puppy that danced about her feet, gathered him in her arms and rose before meeting a gaze that regarded her warily.

  “I am so glad to see you,” she murmured to Rascal as she rubbed his ears. “I was so afraid when I thought you might be gone again.” The room was quiet after her whisper, the only sounds the occasional pop in the cheerily burning fireplace.

  “I was feeling the same way.” Malachi’s low baritone finally broke the silence. “I didn’t know if you’d gone to Madison after all.”

  Ruth’s heart beat faster than the little one whose rapid patter she could feel clutched against her chest. She tucked the comforting silky head under her chin and met Malachi’s gaze. The pup squirmed when trapped between the deep breath she inhaled and her tight grip. “It was a gut day today. I didn’t want to leave.”

  “Then why are you?” His voice was equally quiet.

  Needing a moment, she placed Rascal on the floor. He shook himself before trotting over to lie down in front of the fireplace. Ruth wished she could shake things off so easily. She lifted her eyes again to his steady blue gaze. “I can’t stay in Miller’s Creek if you’re not free.” She forced a swallow. “Are you?”

  Malachi didn’t answer for a few endless heartbeats. “No, I’m not,” he finally responded without breaking eye contact.

  It was what she feared and expected. She propped an elbow on the counter to keep from sagging against it. When she thought she could speak, Ruth murmured, “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I came to offer you something.” In an easy movement, he rose from the chair he was in. Her eyes only for him, Ruth hadn’t noticed it. Still gliding smoothly after his abrupt departure was the red oak rocking chair started by her father, a man she’d loved dearly. And now it sat where she envisioned it by the fire, finished by the man she loved more than she could’ve imagined.

  “Oh, Malachi,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.” On trembling legs, Ruth moved to the chair and ran her fingers across the satiny back. Her eyes drifted shut, imagining for a moment the smooth surface she was stroking was his cheek. She would treasure the piece as she did the ones her daed had made. More so, as it had been made by both men.

  She opened her eyes when he spoke. “That’s gut to hear, but that’s not all I’m offering.” Malachi faced her, the chair between them. A faint smile touched his lips, but his eyes were still apprehensive.

  “What I’m offering is my heart, Ruth. It goes with the chair.” He smiled, creating a dimple in his lean cheek. “It went before the chair actually. It went when a stubborn woman came along with the furniture business I acquired.” He sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “So you see, I am not free. I belong to you.”

  Ruth’s grip left the back of the chair. She found herself clasping his strong, calloused, wonderful hands. “But what about Leah? She’s perfect.”

  Malachi snorted softly. “Leah helped me learn a lot about what I wanted in a woman. And what I didn’t. I didn’t want perfect.”

  Ruth grinned. “You realize what that says about me.”

  Malachi smiled and squeezed her fingers gently, not letting her go. “I wanted perfect for me. A woman with a talent for managing and for working with wood. And for making me happier than I’d ever imagined I’d be. I know you’re who Gott has chosen for me. He brought me here to Wisconsin in order to find you.” The smile faded a bit when he added, “I’m only hoping that I’m enough for you.”

  He searched her eyes. When she didn’t speak, he continued, “I know you have other options. I know you’re capable of succeeding in them. I know that staying in the Plain life would limit what you want for yourself. But I allowed myself to hope.”

  His lips curved slightly. “When wanting to grow a crop worth harvesting or a furniture piece worth making, some preparations have to be made. The groundwork needs to be laid. I figured this was similar. I contacted the bishop regarding permission to set up one of the outbuildings with woodworking equipment, in case someone would consider marrying me. I’d set it up, so when kinder arrive, they’d have a safe place to play as well, while their mamm makes furniture, if she’d want to.”

  Ruth stared at him in surprise.

  “And I’ve found I need to learn more about the business part of ownership. I was never much of a reader.” He wrinkled his nose. “Even before I left school, my mind was already on physical work. I learn better by hearing and doing. So if I had a wife who wanted to study and learn—” he flicked his eyes toward paperwork still stacked on the kitchen table “—then maybe teach me, interspersed with a few sweet words, it might be a good thing.”

  Ruth skirted the rocker so nothing was between them. “I could do that. Most of it anyway.” Her lips quirked. “Who’s going to say the sweet words?”

  “How about if I start out with this? Will you marry me, Ruth?” When she drew back and her eyes grew wide, Malachi continued, “I know you can take care of yourself. But for the few occasions that you might want to lean on someone, I want it to be me.”

  He let go of one of her hands long enough to dab at a tear that leaked from her eye. “It devastates me when you cry,” he murmured.

  Ruth sniffed. “Oh, Malachi! The first day you walked into the shop, I reminded myself that Gott had a plan for me. Foolish me, I tried to make His path fit mine, thinking I knew what I needed to be happy. But He knew me and, of course, knew better. His plan is so much more than I could’ve ever imagined. Nothing I could ever find in wood or on paper would bring me the joy of being in your arms.”

  A smile spread across Malachi’s face. He pulled her into his warm embrace. “Well, then. Come here.”

  Resting her head on his strong shoulder, Ruth whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “There’s an Amish proverb that says to choose your love and love your choice.” She nestled deeper into his arms. It felt like home. It felt like everything she’d ever wanted. “I choose you, Malachi.”

  Epilogue

  “Ach,” Malachi stepped through the door and quickly strode to where Ruth stood on a ladder. “You’re supposed to making sure she behaves herself, Samuel.”

  Turning from where he was building a bench against the wall, Samuel shot Ruth a grin and a wink. “That’s your responsibility, bruder. You’re the one who chose such a stubborn, complicated wife in the first place. It’s taught me to make sure I choose a biddable woman when I marry.”

  “That would be your loss. I couldn’t imagine anyone else.” Malachi carefully lifted Ruth down. As he set her on the ground, their mutual smiles lingered and his hand gently brushed over her burgeoning stomach before taking the screwdriver from her hand.

  Malachi turned his attention to the sloped ceiling. “Come over here and help me with this. Might as well get a little more work out of you before y
our new horse acquisition business has you forgetting all your woodworking skills.”

  “You’ll miss me. I might even miss you.” Samuel crossed to his bruder and climbed the ladder. “But you know horses were always my first love.”

  Malachi handed him the screwdriver. “I know. But you’ll always have a place here if you need it.”

  Now relegated to the floor, Ruth watched Malachi and Samuel work on the skylight. As promised, Malachi was converting the hog house, its occupants long gone, into a workshop. Glancing around at the renovations, Ruth inhaled deeply, relishing the fresh lumber smell that permeated the airy room. She couldn’t imagine being any happier. Everything was set up with safety and efficiency in mind for when she’d work out here.

  And she would. But not as much as she’d thought. And that was okay. It was here when she wanted or needed it. For as much as she’d wanted and needed the woodworking, she wanted and needed her Amish husband more. Who’d have ever dreamed she’d have both?

  Her lips curved as she listened to the brothers bantering as they worked. Malachi looked over at her and smiled. Ruth’s heart swelled as she rested her hand on her slightly rounded stomach. A loving husband, a bobbeli, a close extended family, work she loved. The words of Jeremiah ran through her mind. For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

  Tears prickled in the back of Ruth’s eyes, ones born of wonder. Who could have expected this marvelous end for her?

  Only Gott.

  * * *

  If you loved this story,

  check out these other Amish stories:

  The Amish Widower’s Twins by Jo Ann Brown

  His Suitable Amish Wife by Rebecca Kertz

  A Perfect Amish Match by Vannetta Chapman

  Her New Amish Family by Carrie Lighte

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Nanny’s Secret Baby by Lee Tobin McClain.

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  Dear Reader,

  What you are holding is the realization of a dream!

  As soon as I was old enough to fold an 8.5 x 11 paper into a quarter of its size and draw a horse on the front, I have wanted to write stories. It took a little while, and my artistic skills haven’t improved any, but God has helped me realize my writing dream. Everything is better when we trust in Him.

  My first interaction with Amish life was when I was at a family reunion in Wisconsin near the location of the fictional Miller’s Creek. We were playing volleyball while listening to the clip-clop of horse hooves traveling the nearby highway when two buggies pulled into my uncle’s property and two young Amish men hopped out to join our game. And that was my introduction to rumspringa. I have been intrigued ever since.

  I hope you enjoyed Malachi and Ruth’s romance. I grew quite fond of them, especially because Ruth was my grandmother’s name. I look forward to exploring the relationships of their siblings and friends in Miller’s Creek. I hope you’ll join me.

  Thank you again for the great honor you’ve given me of reading my first book. May it be only the beginning of a wonderful adventure together.

  Jocelyn McClay

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

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  The Nanny’s Secret Baby

  by Lee Tobin McClain

  Chapter One

  Jack DeMoise watched his eighteen-month-old son bang a block against the doctor’s desk drawer.

  “He’s going to need as much attention and support as you can give him,” Dr. Rutherford said. “We’re learning more and more about this condition. His best odds would be to get a TSS—therapeutic support staff—team on board right away. Hope your wife is organized!”

  Jack drew in a breath and let it out slowly before meeting the other man’s eyes. “There’s no reason you should remember this from the intake papers, but I’m a widower.”

  The doctor’s face fell, just a little. Most people wouldn’t even have noticed, but Jack was accustomed to reading emotions carefully, from small tells. It had been a crucial skill with his wife. “Do you work full-time yourself?” the doctor asked.

  Jack nodded. “My job can be flexible, though.” Except when it isn’t. “I’m a small-town veterinarian. I’ve had several good babysitters, but I’m not sure any of them are up to...” He reached down and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “To helping me manage Sammy’s care the right way.”

  The doctor frowned. “You need someone experienced with kids, someone who connects well with him. Ideally, a person with special-needs experience, though that’s not a requirement. A full-time nanny would be ideal.”

  And where was he supposed to find such a person in his small Colorado town?

  The doctor stood and smiled down at Sammy. “Cute little guy. You can see the people in the front office to schedule his next appointment.”

  As the doctor left the exam room, Sammy lifted his arms, and Jack knelt to pick him up and held him close.

  Autism.

  The diagnosis didn’t shock him—he’d had suspicions—but the reality of figuring out a coping strategy was hitting him hard.

  Two hours later, back at their new home at Redemption Ranch, Jack had just gotten Sammy down for a nap when the sound of a loud, mufflerless car broke the mountain silence. He hurried to close Sammy’s window, glanced back at the crib to make sure his son was still sleeping and then looked outside.

  From this angle, all he could see was a tangle of red curls emerging from a rusty subcompact.

  Arianna. He’d heard she was in town.

  He took another deep breath before double-timing it down the steps to anticipate his former sister-in-law’s loud knock on the door. Once Sammy was asleep, you didn’t want to repeat the complicated process that had made it happen.

  He opened the door just as Arianna was lifting her hand to knock. Under her other arm, she held a giant painting, done in her trademark primitive style.

  “When I heard you’d moved, I wanted to bring a housewarming gift,” she said. “And a treat for Sammy. Sorry I didn’t call first. Is this a bad time?”

  “I just got him down,” Jack said. He half felt like closing the door in Arianna’s face, but he couldn’t. She was his son’s aunt after all, even if her chronic disorganization and flamboyance had driven his wife crazy, causing some disturbing family fights. Arianna was way out of his comfort zone. “Come on in,” he said. “What are you doing in Colorado?”

  She waved a hand. “I’m in town visiting family. Thinking
about moving back to the area. Penny had mentioned she might do some art therapy with the vets, so I came up to try to sell myself.”

  “Out of a job again?” he asked as he carried the canvas she’d brought to the middle of the living room. “Pretty,” he added, gesturing at the wild yellow painting.

  “Jack!” She blew out a sigh he could hear from behind him and then flopped down onto the couch. “Yeah. I’m out of a job. How’d you know?”

  He shrugged and sat on the big chair catty-corner to the couch. “Just a guess.” He let his head rest against the back of the chair.

  “You look awful,” she said with her usual blunt honesty. “What’s going on?”

  He looked at her sideways without lifting his head. “Sammy and I visited the doctor today,” he said.

  She sat up straighter. “Bad news?”

  “Yeah. No. I don’t know.” He kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the ottoman. “We got a diagnosis I was hoping we wouldn’t get.”

  “Oh no!” The panic in her voice was real. “Is he going to be okay? What’s wrong?”

  Her concern brought him upright, and he leaned forward, waving a hand to calm her. “He’s fine, he’s going to be just fine. It’s not some horrible disease.”

  “Tell me!”

  “It’s autism.”

  She sucked in a breath, looked up at the ceiling. He thought she was looking in the direction of Sammy’s room. Maybe even praying—she was a fairly new Christian, from what his wife had said only weeks before she’d died.

  But when Arianna looked back at him, he realized her eyes were glittering with tears she was trying not to let fall.