An Amish Winter (Love Inspired) Read online

  “I can take you to Leslie’s in the morning.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure Old Eli...”

  “He meets with the church leaders on Friday mornings, though he’ll cancel if you ask him to.”

  “Nein. I wouldn’t want that.”

  “It’s settled, then. I’ll pick you up at nine.” He leaned slightly toward her and lowered his voice, though they were the only ones in the room. “I’m not trying to be in your business. It’s just that... It seems like providence that I was driving by when you needed someone.”

  “Providence?”

  “Ya. As if Gotte intended for us to meet.”

  “Oh. I don’t know...”

  “I’m not reading too much into it.” He smiled now, and she realized that if he wasn’t bossing her around she might actually like him. “It’s not as if I think it was a sign that we should begin courting.”

  “Courting?” Heat flooded Faith’s cheeks. “I’ve known you all of twenty-four hours, Elijah King. Not to mention, my priority for the foreseeable future is Hannah.”

  “Ya. That’s what I was saying. I’m not reading too much into it.”

  He reached out and lightly squeezed her arm. Faith nearly jumped out of her skin. If Elijah noticed, he didn’t say anything, which was good because she was mortally embarrassed about the entire turn of this conversation.

  He stepped out into the cold, snowy evening, and she firmly shut the door behind him. Faith stood there and watched out the window as he walked over to the barn. What was the name of his buggy horse? Boots. A few minutes later he guided Boots out of the barn, shut the door and climbed up into the buggy. Faith stood there watching after him, long after he’d disappeared into the night.

  In that moment, she could almost envision what her life might have been like—if her parents were still alive, if she hadn’t married so quickly, if Jonas hadn’t died. She might have had a normal life, with a husband and a horse named Boots.

  But she had no husband or horse or home.

  She couldn’t go back and change the past, but perhaps tomorrow, she could settle on a place to live.

  * * *

  The next day dawned with bright sunshine splashing over the snowy landscape. Elijah caught himself whistling as he cleaned out his buggy, swapped out the old blanket for a cleaner one he’d borrowed from his sister-in-law and picked up loose trash that had accumulated on the floor of the buggy. By the time he reached Old Eli’s place, fifteen minutes early, the buggy was toasty warm.

  Faith must have been watching for him because as soon as he drove up, she stuck her head out the door and motioned for him to wait. Less than a minute later, she hurried out to the buggy.

  “Let me help you up.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “At least let me hold Hannah.”

  She passed the bundled child to him. Apparently Mary Beth had been sharing her baby things as Hannah was wearing a slightly used coat, had a newly knitted cap covering her head and was wrapped in a fleece blanket. She smiled at him and bounced in his arms.

  And that was the moment Elijah first wondered if he was in trouble.

  Looking into Hannah’s eyes, which were a perfect replica of her mother’s, then looking up at Faith, Elijah realized he might be sinking into something he didn’t understand. Was it even possible that he was falling for Faith Yoder? He’d known her less than two days. He must be feeling narrisch because only someone who wasn’t thinking straight would have romantic notions about a complete stranger—and one who had no intention of courting on top of that.

  Ack.

  He had absolutely no common sense when it came to women.

  But then again, the heart yearned for what the heart yearned for. He realized in that moment that it wasn’t a head thing. It was a heart-and-soul thing.

  He passed Hannah back to Faith, murmured to Boots, “Behave yourself, please,” and hurried to the other side of the buggy.

  “Thank you for taking us to see Leslie.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m sure you have work to do... Didn’t you say you owned a big business?”

  “I probably didn’t use the word big, but it is normally quite busy. All my jobs halted for the weather, though. Can’t have people working in treacherous conditions. I suspect we’ll be back up to speed by tomorrow.”

  Faith glanced out the window at the bright sunshine, then looked back at him.

  “Ya, I know it’s sunny now, but we have to give the snow time to melt off the roof. Wouldn’t want anyone sliding down into a snowbank.”

  He proceeded to tell her how he’d become interested in solar panels, starting out as a one-man business and growing past that quickly, all due to the way their community had embraced solar energy.

  Faith seemed interested in everything he had to say.

  Finally he asked, “Did your community—your old community—use solar power?”

  “Nein. But even if they had, I don’t think my father-in-law would have allowed it. He’s not much one for change.”

  Her voice had taken on a plaintive tone, and he quickly changed the subject. He was interested in hearing of her past, but he didn’t want to put a damper on the morning. So he pointed out the homes of people in their community as they drove toward Leslie’s. He tried to think of a funny anecdote to go with each farm they passed, which wasn’t so hard. They had a lot of characters in their church district.

  When he turned into the lane leading to a small new house set back from the road, he heard her pull in a sharp breath.

  “Too small?”

  “I wasn’t expecting...something so nice.”

  “Ya. Leslie built this place with her husband. They were downsizing from a bigger farm, entering their golden years as she puts it. I installed her solar panels. Six months after they moved in, her husband, John, was diagnosed with cancer. He died only three months later.”

  “What are the building pads for?”

  “They’d planned to open the property up as a bed-and-breakfast—perhaps build cabins around this circular drive. Now she’s not sure if she can do it on her own. She doesn’t even know if she should continue living here by herself. Leslie’s not really old enough for a Daddi house, though her children have offered. I think she’s lonely and a little at loose ends.”

  Faith remained quiet through his entire explanation. He wondered what she was thinking. That this wouldn’t be a gut place to live? Or that it would?

  He called out, “Whoa, Boots,” set the brake, then hopped down to loop the reins around a long hitching rail in front of Leslie’s porch. By the time he made it around to Faith’s side of the buggy, she’d already scrambled out and was standing there, holding baby Hannah tightly against her chest and looking at the house.

  He tried to see it as she did.

  The outside sported a light gray paint with white trim.

  The porch extended across the front and down the east side—big enough for rocking chairs and plants and a small table that Leslie liked to place a pitcher of lemonade on during the summer.

  The place was spick-and-span, without even a hint of mud on the porch. “She keeps a clean house,” he explained as he cupped her elbow and guided her up the porch steps. Before they could knock on the door, Leslie had opened it up and motioned them inside.

  “The sunshine is nice, but it’s still quite brisk out there. You must be Faith, and this is...”

  “Hannah.” Faith moved the baby into her other arm.

  “Let’s go to the kitchen. It’s cozy warm and has the best light in the morning.”

  Elijah thought the kitchen looked like something out of a storybook. The walls were painted a soft yellow, a table for six sat in an alcove surrounded on three sides by windows and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room.

  Leslie remin
ded Elijah of the quintessential Amish mammi—gray hair peeking out from her kapp, fresh white apron, short and round with smile wrinkles fanning out from her eyes. He knew, though, that she wasn’t the typical grandma. Leslie had always enjoyed trying new things. She was one of the first to sign up for solar panels, and six weeks after John’s death, she’d started putting out inquiries about hosting Englisch families. Then her plans for the bed-and-breakfast had stalled, her enthusiasm had waned and she’d been unable to move forward.

  Perhaps it was grief.

  He understood that she missed John terribly. She’d even told Elijah once that she wasn’t sure what the purpose of her days were. Why was she still here, but John was gone? Why was his life complete, when hers was supposed to keep going? None of it made sense to her, and so she had decided to pause and wait for answers from Gotte.

  Once she’d served everyone coffee and taken Hannah onto her lap, she got down to business. “Elijah tells me you’re looking for a place to live. I won’t push my nose into your business, but I feel that I do need to know something of your background.”

  “I understand.” Faith glanced uncertainly at Elijah.

  “Would you like me to leave? If you’d rather this be a private conversation—”

  “Of course not. I was trying to think of where to begin.”

  “At the beginning is usually best, dearie.” Leslie raised Hannah to her shoulder, having already slipped a clean diaper over her dress as a burp cloth. How did women do that? Did they pull clean diapers out of thin air?

  Then Faith began talking, and Elijah forgot all about Leslie’s grandmothering abilities.

  Faith was an only child.

  Her parents had perished in a buggy accident.

  She’d met Jonas the next year. He suffered from some medical condition she didn’t know about, and by the time they were aware of it, he’d passed. She’d been three months pregnant at the time.

  Elijah thought there was more to that part of the story. Faith had paused, stared down into her coffee, then drained the cup and skipped to the end.

  “I didn’t realize when I married Jonas what his family was like. Jonas was a kind man, but his dat—he had a problem with alcohol.”

  Leslie tsked and rubbed Hannah’s back in slow, smooth circles.

  “The bishop tried several times to convince Gerald to go into counseling, but he adamantly refused to admit he had a problem. As for Jonas’s mamm, well, Sara learned to stay out of his way.”

  “Not so easy for a young widow with a child.”

  “Exactly. I seemed to...” Faith pressed her lips together, glanced at Elijah and continued. “I seemed to remind him of the death of his son. He... I think he blamed me.”

  “Why would he do such a thing?” Elijah had remained quiet up to that point, but the cruelness of what she was describing bothered him. He never could understand how some people lacked compassion.

  “I don’t think... He wasn’t in his right mind. His drinking worsened after Jonas’s death.”

  “And your bishop? Surely he was sympathetic to your situation.”

  “He offered to find another place within the district for us to stay, until the living conditions with Gerald and Sara improved. The thing was that I don’t believe it ever was going to improve. I think they had been living that way a long time. It explained why Jonas’s bruders had moved so far away.”

  “I am indeed sorry for the trouble you’ve endured, Faith.” Leslie reached across and patted her hand. “We can’t understand Gotte’s ways. The prophet Isaiah said that His ways are not our ways. I do believe Gotte has the ability to bless us in spite of our trials. I’m learning that truth myself, though not every day feels that way.”

  Faith didn’t argue, though she didn’t look quite convinced either.

  “In the end, I decided moving would be better, and Gerald—he was happy to see us go. I think Sara was relieved. She loves Hannah, but she was worried about my raising a child in that home. She said as much to me once.”

  “So you began watching the Budget...looking for a home and job.” Elijah wondered what kind of strength that must take. Sure, he’d purchased his own farm and started his own business, but he’d always had the support of family. Faith had been completely alone, and she’d still found the courage to make her own way.

  “I answered the ad for Mio, Michigan. Of course, I realized how far north it was, but I didn’t think we’d be snowed out before we even reached there. And now... Honestly, now I’m not sure what to do. Mary Ann and Old Eli have been so kind, and their doschdern have taken a real liking to Hannah.”

  “They’re gut people,” Leslie agreed. She moved the now-sleeping Hannah to the crook of her arm. “Tell me what kind of work you plan to do.”

  Elijah sat back, at ease for perhaps the first time since he’d seen Faith standing in the swirl of snow outside the Mercantile. Things seemed to be going well between her and Leslie, and he could picture her living in their community, doing a little side business of baking or quilting or sewing. All that was left was to work out the details.

  He would give her time to settle into her new life. Then if this spark he thought existed between them persisted, he could ask her out. His dreams of a wife and family popped back into his head. Was it possible that his future was back on track?

  Perhaps his New Year’s resolution hadn’t been so crazy after all.

  Everything was turning out exactly as he dreamed it would.

  Except now that he thought about it, Faith was looking at him quite oddly. She acted as if she was about to share some startling news. Her shoulders had tensed, and she was clutching her mug as if someone might wrestle it from her hands.

  What was she not telling them?

  When she began to speak, Elijah had the ridiculous urge to clap his hands over his ears. In the space of a heartbeat, the dream of his perfect little Amish family popped like a child’s balloon.

  Chapter Four

  Faith’s mouth felt suddenly dry. Elijah was sitting back and watching her as if this was a done deal, as if all that was left to figure out was when she would move in. But Faith knew that moving in with someone was a big step—it was a major decision for both her and Leslie. And the fact that her work wasn’t exactly traditional might be the thing that put a stick in the spokes of the buggy wheel.

  “When I took the job in Mio, I agreed to do farm work and the like.” She pulled in a deep breath as she wiped her palms against her dress. “That’s not what I do, though. That’s not what I’m gut at.”

  Leslie looked interested.

  Elijah looked mildly concerned.

  “I draw up business plans.” When no one spoke, she added, “For Amish companies, mostly, but also Mennonite and Englisch.”

  “I don’t understand.” Elijah set his coffee cup aside and rested his elbows on the table.

  “And I didn’t know there was such a thing.” Leslie cocked her head to the side. “Do you mean you take care of the accounting books?”

  “I can do that, yes. But it’s not the bulk of what I do—or did, before I met Jonas. Where we lived in Sugarcreek, my dat was gut with business ledgers and such, so I grew up around numbers and understood accounting terms well before I finished school. By the time I’d worked with him a few years, I could run a profit/loss statement, five-year projection, help identify and set attainable goals, do a market analysis...”

  Elijah held up a hand to stop her. “Amish businesses asked for that?”

  “Ya. Many did.”

  “None of the businessmen...”

  Leslie cleared her throat and tossed him a pointed look.

  Elijah tried again. “None of the business men or women I know would even understand what those things are.”

  “Which is exactly why it’s a unique and needed service to local businesses.”

  “But i
f they don’t know what it is, why would they pay for it?”

  “In the beginning, I suppose because they trusted my dat and were already using his services. It was natural for them to trust me. Once we were successful with a handful of businesses, word spread.”

  Leslie glanced down at Hannah, then back up at Faith. “Why did you ever leave Sugarcreek? Why leave Ohio at all if you had such a gut business built up?”

  “Because I fell in love?” Faith felt her right eye twitch, something she absolutely hated, but it happened whenever she was nervous. She fought the urge to close her eyes and press her fingertips against the twitching muscle. “Maybe because I was naive, or maybe... I guess maybe the pain of being in Sugarcreek became too much. After my parents’ deaths, everywhere I turned reminded me of them, of their passing. I met Jonas, he asked me to wed and we moved to the Fort Wayne area—Adams County, to be exact.”

  Elijah was now frowning in an almost comical way. Obviously he didn’t approve of her or her work plans. He sat back, crossed his arms and refused to meet her eyes. “Can’t say as you’ll be able to make a living doing that here in Shipshe.”

  “And how do you know that, Elijah King?” Leslie ducked her chin, gave him an impatient look and tsked all at once.

  “I have a successful business, don’t I? Yet, I’ve never had a business plan. Sounds like a bunch of hoopla to me.”

  “Hoopla?” Faith’s nervousness gave way to irritation.

  “Market analysis? Who needs market analysis? You look around, see a need and meet the need. That’s all the business plan a person has to have—that and a gut work ethic will result in success.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Leslie stood, placed Hannah in Faith’s arms, then refilled their coffee cups. “I’ve been rather stuck in my own business plans. It’s possible that I could use exactly what you’re describing.”

  Faith’s spirits lifted. She’d never dared to mention her business abilities to Jonas’s parents, and in truth, she’d missed doing the work. Gerald had made it quite clear that a woman’s sole purpose was to care for the home and children. He’d described the women in their community who owned businesses as “putting on airs” and had suggested that their husbands needed to be more firm with them.