The Amish Mother. Rebecca Kertz

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Three

      He inclined his head. “Lizzie.”

      She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “Zack.”

      He drew the woman forward. Lizzie saw that she was older than Zachariah but not enough to be his mother. “This is—”

      “Esther,” Lizzie said with a smile. “Your schweschter.” She was pleased to note Zack’s surprise when she’d addressed his sister by name. “We’re glad you could come and stay with us.”

      Esther’s gaze warmed. “And you’re Lizzie.”

      Lizzie nodded. “Are you hungry? May I offer you a snack to hold you until supper? There are cookies and apple crisp. The cottage is ready for you. I believe you’ll be comfortable there.”

      “We all helped to fix it up for you,” Rebecca said as she joined Lizzie on the front porch.

      Mary Ruth and the rest of the children stepped out of the house and gathered behind Lizzie and Rebecca. Anne and Matt stood behind them, inside the door.

      Esther smiled. “Hallo. So you are Abraham’s children. My nieces and nephews.”

      Rebecca stepped forward. “Would you like to come in? Matt can put your luggage in the dawdi haus for you,” she told her aunt. She glanced at her brother and, understanding, Matt came out of the house and approached.

      “Danki. I wouldn’t mind coming in for a bit,” Esther agreed.

      Zack captured Lizzie’s gaze as he handed Matt a suitcase and picked up the other one. Her heart gave a little jump before it started to beat normally again. “I’ll go with Matt,” he said. “We’ll be right back.”

      Esther nodded before she followed Lizzie and the children into the farmhouse. Once inside, she paused to study her surroundings. “Everything is the same, but different,” she said.

      Lizzie understood. She hadn’t given much thought to the fact that Esther, Abraham and the rest of their siblings had lived here with their parents before their father’s passing. As they continued through the house and into the kitchen, Zack’s sister smiled appreciatively. “It smells wonderful in here.”

      Hannah smiled. “We baked today. Would you like some apple crisp?”

      Esther shook her head. “We stopped to eat on the way.”

      “Tea?”

      At Lizzie’s invitation, Esther sat down at the kitchen table. “Ja, that sounds goot.”

      Lizzie studied her sister-in-law. Esther Fisher was a tall, attractive woman with warmth in her brown gaze and soft pretty laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and near her mouth. She wore a black traveling bonnet and a blue dress with black cape and apron. Her features were kind and full of character, and Lizzie immediately felt comfortable in her presence. She thought that she and Esther might become good friends once they got to know each other.

      * * *

      Memories assailed Zack as he entered the dawdi haus. His grandparents had lived here when he was a young child. They had passed on when he was seven in a terrible accident. A drunk driver had slammed his car head-on into their small open buggy as his grandfather drove Grossmudder and himself to Sunday service. That he and his family were in the buggy several yards in front of his grosseldre’s vehicle saved their lives, but Zack had gotten a good view of the awful scene. It had been a traumatic experience for everyone but most especially Zack.

      As he followed his nephew through the house and into a bedroom, he noted slight changes to the cottage. There was no sign that his grosseldre had lived there. He sighed silently with relief as he set his suitcase in the closest bedroom and then followed Matt into the next room, where his sister would stay.

      “Lizzie and the girls made up the beds and put stuff in the kitchen for you,” Matthew told him. “They stocked the pantry and the freezer, but Lizzie said that you are willkomm to eat with us. She wanted you to have food in case you got hungry or didn’t feel like coming over.”

      Zack studied the boy and nodded. “That is kind of her.” He examined Esther’s room, pleased how clean and comfortable it appeared. A lingering scent of lemon oil intermingled with the fresh air gently billowing the white window curtains. A quilt in soft blues, greens and cream covered the double bed.

      “Lizzie made the quilt,” Matthew said after apparently noting the direction of Zack’s gaze. “She quilts a lot and makes wonderful things. She sells her quilts at Beachey’s Craft Shop.”

      Zack couldn’t help but admire the bedcover. The pattern and colors were striking, but plain enough to be used within their Amish community. He walked to the bed and ran a hand over the soft cotton in solid colors. “Beachey,” he murmured. “Ellen Beachey’s family?”

      When his nephew nodded, Zack smiled. “They’ve owned the shop since Ellen was a child.” He felt a softening inside at the memory of Ellen Beachey, remembering her as a young feisty girl. She was older than him by about ten years, pretty, but she’d been a handful to her parents, although she’d been respectful to the church and the folks within Honeysuckle. He remembered that she and Neziah Shetler had been sweethearts, but by the time he’d returned home for a visit, the couple had broken up. He wondered whom she finally married.

      “Do you know she has a bright lime-green push СКАЧАТЬ