An Amish Wife For Christmas. Patricia Davids

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ hours repairing clocks and antique watches during the long winter months in his tiny shop. With the door open she used to hear him humming or muttering depending on how a particular project was progressing.

      The workshop hadn’t been opened since Ivan found Elijah slumped over his desk barely breathing. The boy ran to find help but by the time it arrived Elijah was gone.

      She should have mailed his unfinished works back to their owners before now but she couldn’t bear to enter the room. The grief she tried so hard to control would come pouring out when she did.

      Tears stung the backs of her eyelids, but she quickly blinked them away. The quiet strength and unquestioning love of her grandfather had seen Bethany through the worst times in her life. It was still hard to accept that she could never turn to him for guidance again.

      She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. He would tell her prayer and hard work solved problems. Worry and regret never did. There had to be a way to keep her family together and she would find it. Perhaps her uncle would side with her. She would write her own letter to him and plead her case.

      She slipped into her coat. “Thank you for coming today, Gemma, but I’d best get the rest of my chores done.”

      Gemma followed her to the door. “I don’t know how you’ll manage this farm without Elijah and Ivan.”

      “One day at a time and with the help of our neighbors if I need it.”

      “I’ve never known you to ask for help.” Gemma moved to put on her black bonnet and coat.

      “I asked you to sit with me when the bishop came today, didn’t I?”

      Gemma rolled her eyes. “Okay, you have asked for help one time. I wish I knew what to say but I think it is all up to Ivan. I’m surprised he wasn’t here this morning.”

      “He’s at school. I didn’t want to take him out of class.”

      The New Covenant Amish community was too small yet to have their own school. The five Amish children in their church, including her brother and sister, attended the nearest public school. It was far from ideal but the teachers and school board had taken great pains to accommodate the needs and customs of the new Amish pupils.

      The two women walked outside together. Gemma pulled on her gloves. “Do you want me to come over this evening when you talk to him?”

      Bethany shook her head. “Danki, but I think it’s best I speak to him alone.”

      “All right. I’ll stop by tomorrow and you can tell me all about it.” The two women exchanged a hug. Gemma climbed into her buggy and drove away.

      Bethany’s breath rose as puffs of white mist in the chilly mid-November morning as she crossed the snow-covered yard to the newly completed red barn. It was the latest building to be added to the new community. The bulk of the structure had been raised in a single day with the help of an Amish community from upstate New York. Thirty men had traveled all night by bus and worked feverishly to complete the barn before taking the long bus ride home again that night. Someday the people of New Covenant would return the favor.

      Her grandfather had had plans for half a dozen additional structures to attract more Amish families to New Covenant. It had been his dream to form a thriving Amish district in Maine, far from the tourist centers in Pennsylvania. To him, fewer tourists meant less money but more time to spend close to God and family without worldly influences. If only he could have lived to see his dream grow and thrive.

      Bethany fed and watered the chickens, gathered the eggs and then fed and watered the geese before heading to the barn. Her mind wasn’t on her chores. Her conversation with the bishop replayed in her head as she fed and watered their two horses. Outside the milk cow’s stall, Bethany paused and leaned on her pitchfork. “I’ve got trouble, Clarabelle.”

      The cow didn’t answer her. Bethany pitched a forkful of hay to the family’s placid brown-and-white Guernsey and then leaned on the stall door. “The bishop has decided to send Ivan to Bird-in-Hand to live with Onkel Harvey. It’s not right. It’s not fair. I can’t bear the idea of sending my little brother away. It will break his heart and Jenny’s, to say nothing of mine. We belong together.”

      Clarabelle munched a mouthful of hay as she regarded Bethany with soulful deep brown eyes. The bell around her neck clanked softly as she tilted her head to allow Bethany to scratch behind her left ear. Bethany complied. As a confidant, Clarabelle was unassuming and easy to talk to, but she was short on advice.

      “Advice is what I need, Clarabelle. The bishop said Ivan could stay if I had a husband. Someone to discipline and guide the boy. I don’t believe for a minute that is the solution but I’m getting desperate. Any idea where I can get a husband before Christmas? And please don’t suggest Jesse Crump. Jedidiah Zook might be a possibility if he smiled more. Maybe he just needs a wife to make him happier. What do you think?”

      “I doubt your cow has the answers you seek but if she does I have a few questions for her about my own problems,” a man said in an amused drawl.

      Bethany spun around. A stranger stood in the open barn door. He wore a black Amish hat pulled low on his forehead and a dark blue woolen coat with the collar turned up against the cold. He carried a duffel bag over one shoulder and he leaned on a black cane.

      The mirth sparkling in his eyes sent a flush of heat to her cheeks. How humiliating. To be caught talking to a cow about matrimonial prospects made her look ridiculous.

      She struggled to hide her embarrassment. After looking the man up and down, she stabbed the pitchfork into the hay again and dumped it into Clarabelle’s stall. “It’s rude to eavesdrop on a private conversation.”

      “I’m not sure talking to a cow qualifies as a private conversation but I am sorry to intrude.” The man put down his duffel bag.

      He didn’t look sorry. He looked like he was struggling not to laugh at her. At least he was a stranger. Maybe this mortifying episode wouldn’t become known in the community. She cringed at the thought of Jedidiah Zook hearing the story. “How can I help you?”

      “Mind if I sit here for a minute?” He pointed to a stack of straw bales beside the barn door.

      She wanted him to go away but her Amish upbringing prevented her from suggesting it. Any stranger in need deserved her help.

      He didn’t wait for her reply but limped to the closest bale and sat down with a weary sigh. “The bus driver who dropped me off said New Covenant was a little way along on this road. His idea of a little way does not match mine.”

      “It’s less than half a mile to the highway from my lane.”

      He rubbed his leg. “That’s the farthest I’ve walked in six months. How much farther do I have to go?”

      “You have arrived at the south end of our community.”

      He tipped his head slightly. “I thought New Covenant was a town.”

      “It’s more a collection of houses strung out on either side of the road right now, but it will be a thriving village one day.” She prayed she spoke the truth.

      “Glad to hear it. I’m Michael Shetler, by the way.” He took off his hat and raked his fingers through his thick dark brown hair.

СКАЧАТЬ