The Mother’s Helper

A Hollybrook Amish Romance: Nancy’s Story #1

Brenda Maxfield

Contents

Personal Word from the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

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Thank you for Reading

More Hollybrook Amish Romances for You

About the Author

Personal Word from the Author

Dearest Readers,

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Copyright © 2017 by Tica House Publishing LLC

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Chapter One

Casting all your care upon Him; for He careth for you.

1 Peter 5:7 KJV

Nancy Slagel cradled the baby in her arms. She felt the sting of tears pushing against her eyelids and held the child closer. Why couldn’t this child be hers? She was twenty-one, plenty old enough.

If only Mark hadn’t…

She shuddered. She couldn’t let her mind wander down that road. She just couldn’t. She was sick to death of tears.

But why had he done it? And with her own sister? Her father had tried to make excuses for Susan. “She’s always been so tender-hearted,” he told her. “When Mark was hurt, and you were gone … well, it was a work of the Lord Gott.”

Really? Having her beau stolen by her own sister had been God’s work? Hardly. And it wasn’t like Nancy would have been gone for good. She’d been away for one night visiting her grandmother. One night! It just couldn’t have been so simple. Susan must have had designs on Mark from the start.

And Mark? To be able to deflect that easily?

It didn’t bear thinking about.

Nancy cuddled the sleeping babe. If it didn’t bear thinking about, then why did her mind continually go there? Why did she torture herself with thoughts of Mark’s betrayal? She blinked hard, willing her tears not to fall. Nobody wanted to be around a cry-baby. Especially when that cry-baby was twenty-one years old. In truth, Nancy was beginning to detest herself for her continual weeping.

If only she could stop it…

“Nancy?” her cousin Irene tiptoed into the room. “He asleep?”

“Jah.” Nancy kissed the fluffy hair on top of the baby’s head. “Shall I put him down?”

“Go ahead. He should sleep for a while now.”

Nancy moved gracefully to the crib and lowered the child to the mattress. Zeke stirred, but only for a second. Then he put his thumb in his mouth and sucked earnestly, his eyes still closed.

The two cousins tip-toed out of the room.

“You need to rest,” Nancy said. “Go on, now. I’ll start supper. Where’s Debbie?”

Irene yawned and rolled her shoulders as if they were paining her. “She’s downstairs playing with her blocks. I shouldn’t leave her for more than a second or two.”

Nancy put her hand on Irene’s arm. “I’m going down. You get a nap in while you can.”

“A nap? It just don’t seem right when there’s so much to do.”

“Irene,” Nancy scolded her, “that’s the reason for a mother’s helper. Now, let me earn my keep.”

Irene smiled, stifling another yawn. “All right. But I won’t sleep long.”

“Sleep as long as you like.” Nancy smiled and slipped out of the room. She hurried downstairs and went immediately to the front room to check on Debbie.

The two-year-old was rolling on the floor, her arms stretched wide. The blocks were strewn all over the rag rug.

Nancy squatted down next to her. “Come on, Debbie. Want to help me work on supper?”

“Jah!” Debbie said with a giggle. She got right up and toddled toward the kitchen. Nancy laughed and followed her.

* * *

That evening, Nancy used the left-over meatloaf to make thick sandwiches. She served them with coleslaw, a bowl of pickles, fruit salad, and gooey chocolate cookies. Irene’s husband, Philip, smacked his lips when he was finished.

“Mighty fine supper, Irene.”

“Weren’t me that made it,” Irene said. “I slept the day away like a regular heathen.”

“Nonsense,” Nancy said. “You nursed the baby while I finished up. It was nothing.”

“Well, I won’t argue about who’s responsible. But, thank you, kindly,” Philip said.

Debbie sat in her highchair, smooshing a pickle over the tray. She patted the resulting juice with glee, splashing Irene who sat next to her.

“Ach, Debbie!” Irene cried. “Stop that, now.”

Nancy jumped up and circled the table with her cloth napkin. She mopped up the juice and took the pickle away. “I think you’re full, Debbie. What do you say?”

Debbie grinned up at her.

“Let me red up the kitchen,” Irene said.

“We’ll do it together,” Nancy replied, taking Debbie out of her highchair.

“Ach, Nancy, I forgot,” Philip said, standing. He walked to the bureau at the side of the dining area and picked up an envelope. “You got a letter today.”

Nancy took the envelope from his hand. She dreaded looking at the return address. She didn’t want to hear from home—she’d rather pretend her home didn’t even exist.

“From your sister, I believe,” Philip said, confirming Nancy’s suspicions.

Susan again? Nancy had already received two letters from Susan, begging her for forgiveness, but Nancy wasn’t having much success with that, God help her.

She glanced down and was surprised to see that the letter wasn’t from Susan. It was from her younger sister, Linda. Relief swooshed through her. “Thank you, Philip,” she murmured.

“Go on then, and read it,” Irene said. “I’ll start the clean-up. I’m sure you’re eager to hear any news from home.”

Nancy’s gaze flew to her cousin. Irene met her eyes, and her face took on a sheepish look as if she’d just remembered why Nancy would not be eager to hear news from home—as if she’d just remembered why Nancy had been so anxious to leave home and become a mother’s helper in the first place.

“Or read it later,” Irene added lamely. She held Debbie in one arm, and the platter of cookies in the other. “Whatever you wish.”

Irene ducked into the kitchen, leaving Nancy standing there, holding the letter. Philip had already gone into the front room. Nancy released her breath in a long sigh. She might as well get it over with. With any luck, Linda wouldn’t mention either Susan or Mark.

The late April weather was unseasonably warm for central Indiana, so Nancy pushed through the screen door and went out to the front porch. She sat down on the porch swing and reluctantly opened the envelope. It was a thin letter, only one sheet of stationery.

Bracing herself, Nancy began to read.

Dear Nancy,

We’re missing you here in Linnow Creek. Lots of people asked after you at the last youth singing. Mostly, though, the house seems empty without you. Mamm and Dat are fine. Although, Dat coughs a lot. He assures me that it’s nothing, but sometimes in the night, I hear him.

Amos and Peter are fine, too. But brothers are never gut company like sisters are. I think of everyone here, I miss you the most.

Are you having warm weather in Hollybrook? We’re not that far away, so I imagine our weather is about the same. I’ve already been leaving my window open at night. The bed seems mighty empty without you in it with me. Did you know that you can stretch wide and just barely touch the edges of the mattress?

Nancy paused and smiled. Leave it to Linda to make something silly out of having a bed to herself. Nancy hadn’t minded sharing a room or a bed with Linda. They used to whisper long into the night about everything and nothing. It was a comfort to have such a close sister. Nancy’s chest constricted. Truth be told, she missed Linda. But avoiding her home unfortunately meant avoiding Linda, too.

How is Cousin Irene? And little Debbie? And Zeke? Oh, he must be so precious. I’m envious of you in a way. I would love to be caring for a boppli. Maybe I can be a mother’s helper someday for—

And here Linda had written something that she’d erased. Nancy swallowed. Had she written Susan’s name and then smudged it out? Had she? Did this mean that Susan was engaged? Nancy sucked in her breath. No. That couldn’t be. It wasn’t yet the season to be published. But was she secretly engaged, and she’d let Linda in on the secret. Nancy dropped the letter in her lap and stared out over the front yard. The willow tree spreading above the freshly-cut grass was already fully leafed-out, and the clumps of daffodils below were in full bloom. It made a pretty picture: serene, colorful, full of new life. But Nancy didn’t revel in the beauty as she usually would. Her mind was churning.

She forced herself to keep reading.

…Irene when she has her next boppli. Or you…

Ach, I’m sorry, Nancy. I shouldn’t be talking about bopplis and such. I know your heart is still hurting. I’m so sorry. I should be with you. I miss you so much. You know I love Susan, too, but it’s not the same. She never was that close to us, was she? I’ve often wondered about it.

She’s hurting, too, Nancy. I think she’s right sorry for how things turned out. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive her. And then, our family can be whole again.

Mamm is sometimes weepy…

Nancy stopped reading. Susan … sorry? Nancy didn’t think so. If she was so sorry, she’d break it off with Mark, wouldn’t she? If she was so sorry, she’d show it with her actions. Nancy licked her lips. Besides, she wasn’t even there in Linnow Creek anymore, so her relationship with Susan shouldn’t be a topic of concern.

She was now in Hollybrook, doing God’s work, helping her cousin. No one could fault her for that, could they? And Nancy could hardly be blamed for breaking up her family. That was just Linda’s sense of the dramatic.

In truth, Nancy’s leaving had helped her family. She’d removed herself from a horrible situation. By exiting herself, she’d taken away the source of tension and conflict.

Nancy looked down at the letter again. She’d finish it later. She simply didn’t have the heart to finish it right then. Nor did she have the heart to write back. She opened the screen door and went back inside.

“Irene?” she called. “Is Zeke ready to be put to bed?”

Irene popped her head out from the kitchen. “I’m going to nurse him in a minute, and I’ll put him down. If you could get Debbie ready for bed, that would be wonderful.”

“Of course. Glad to,” Nancy said. She heard Debbie in the front room squealing about something. Then she heard Philip’s deep laughter, and her heart caught.

She wanted a family of her own. A husband of her own. A child of her own.

Putting on a cheery smile, she entered the front room and swooped Debbie up into her arms.

Chapter Two

Nancy ended up reading two books to Debbie before she tucked her in with a prayer. Debbie had promptly curled up on her side, and Nancy pulled the light quilt over her, snuggling it beneath her chin. She kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Good-night, little one,” she whispered. She left the door of the room ajar and walked quietly across the hall to her own room.

There were two beds, both narrow and pushed against opposite walls, leaving a nice amount of free space in the middle of her room. A fairly large window with light cotton curtains was situated between the two beds. A simple heavy dresser hugged the wall next to the door, and running around the room were a series of pegs where Nancy had hung her few dresses and kapps.

Nancy sat on her bed and sighed. It had been a long day. Even though it was still early, she was tired. Did she dare turn in this soon? Both children were taken care of, and Irene had cleaned up the dinner dishes. She supposed she could go down and make breakfast preparations, but if she got up early she could just as easily do it in the morning.

She glanced at the wind-up clock on the bedside table. It was barely eight o-clock. It would be absurd to go to bed so early, but that’s exactly what she wanted to do. She gave a rueful smile and stood up to undress. There was no reason in the world why she couldn’t turn in early. Her job for the day was complete.

She shimmied out of her dress, took off her kapp, and pulled on her nightgown. Even just the feel of the soft cotton was a comfort. She sat on the bed and unwound her long hair, letting it fall over her shoulders in blond profusion. She grabbed up her brush and worked it through the gentle curls. What must it be like to leave one’s hair down? She could imagine how it would get in the way of her work. Yet… She tossed it over her shoulder, feeling its silky length, her mind still at play.

She didn’t really know that much about the fancy people’s way of life. Of course, she knew some things. After all, the Amish weren’t the only residents of Linnow Creek, or Hollybrook either, for that matter. But she’d been schooled diligently on the dangers of mingling with the Englisch, and she’d taken the warnings to heart. She knew of more than one Amish person who’d been led astray when they’d gotten too friendly with the outside world.

She padded down the hallway to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. On her way back to her room, she peeked inside Debbie’s room. The little girl was fast asleep, her chest rising and dipping rhythmically in the growing shadows. Nancy went into her own bedroom, opened the window a crack, and slipped into bed.

Within minutes, she was asleep.

* * *

Nancy stirred, thrashing her arms about. She was in that no man’s land of half-sleep, thinking her dream was painfully real. Susan was staring at her, laughing. “He never loved you,” she sneered. “He’s always loved me. Me. Me…”

In her dream, the world began spinning hugely, in smooth swirls. Susan and Mark were embracing as it went round and round. Susan’s long brown hair was loose, blowing in the wind as the earth spun. Mark was laughing, and his hat tumbled off his head, whirling madly in the breeze as it rose out of sight.

“Sorry, Nancy!” Susan laughed again. “But it’s true. No love for you today!”

Mark threw back his head and chortled in glee. “No, Nancy! No love for you!”

Nancy gasped and jolted upright in bed. She panted and felt the perspiration drip down her face. She bit her lip against the tears pushing at her eyes.

And then something moved. She froze. There was someone there, in the other bed. Someone else was in the room with her! Her hand flew over her mouth, and she inhaled sharply. There it was again! Movement under the covers across the room.

“Huh?” rumbled a male voice. “Who’s in here?”

Chapter Three

Luke Rupp sat up in bed and rubbed his face. Something rustling about had awakened him. When his eyes focused, he gulped back a fistful of air. “Who’s over there?”

Whoever it was had scrambled from beneath the covers and jerked out of the bed across from him. It was a woman. His eyes nearly bugged from his face.

“Who are you?” he asked, jumping out of bed himself. The floor was cold on his feet.

The woman had backed against the wall and was edging her way toward the door. Even in the near dark, he could see the whites of her eyes. He was grateful for the moonlight falling through the window. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to make out a thing.

“Wait,” he said. “Please. I won’t hurt you.”

She paused.

“I’m Luke,” he said.

Silently, he chided himself. He should have warned Irene that he was coming back to Hollybrook. And he shouldn’t have sneaked into the house in the middle of the night and crawled up there to bed. What was he thinking?

Well, he certainly wasn’t thinking that a strange woman would be in the bedroom he’d always used in the past.

“Luke who?” she asked.

Her voice was quiet, and even in her obvious fear, almost melodic. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Since when did he ever notice if a woman’s voice was melodic? Was he going soft?

“Luke Rudd.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “My mamm is Doris’s friend. And since Doris is Irene’s mamm, I’ve known Irene for years. Since we were little kids.”

“My Aenti Doris?” she asked.

“Doris is your aenti? Who are you?”

She reached over and yanked the quilt from her bed, wrapping it snugly around herself. “I’m Nancy Slagel. Irene’s cousin.”

“Wait…” He thought back to three summers ago. He’d met her. He was sure of it. She was the blond cousin from Linnow Creek. “We’ve met.”

“What? When?”

“Three summers ago.”

“I don’t remember.” She was staring at him now, but he didn’t feel fear in her gaze anymore.

“Why are you here?” she asked. Her long blond hair hung in curls down to her waist. She was alarmingly pretty in the moonlight.

“I stay with Irene and Philip often,” he said, focusing back on the situation at hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell them I was coming this time, and I had no idea…”

Suddenly, the whole thing seemed hilarious to him, but he knew that if he started laughing, Nancy Slagel would think he was crazy. Or rude. How had he missed the lump in her bed when he’d crept into the room? He must have been dog-tired not to realize he wasn’t alone.

“Have we been sleeping together?” she asked, and her voice went up a notch.

Sleeping together? He wanted to laugh again. If his Englisch friends heard her say that…

“If you mean, was I sleeping in this bed way over here, completely separate from your bed way over there, then jah, we were sleeping together.”

She seemed to crumple a bit against the wall.

Luke frowned. He’d put her in a terrible position—at least, in her mind. He could see that now. He’d spent so much time with the Englisch lately, that this slight misunderstanding seemed trivial to him. But not to her. No. Not to her.

He quickly turned around and whipped his quilt back up over the pillow as if he’d never been there. He reached down to grab his duffel bag. Tiptoeing across the floor, he stopped inches from her. She recoiled, and even though in her mind it was probably justified, it upset him.

“I ain’t going to harm you,” he whispered. “I’m going downstairs and will sleep on the davenport. Okay?”

She had wrapped her quilt up to her chin. She nodded, mutely.

“This never happened, all right?” His eyes were intent on hers.

Again, she nodded.

“Nancy…?”

“What?” she croaked.

“You were having a nightmare. Before, I mean. When you were asleep. Are you all right? I heard you thrashing…”

She closed her eyes tightly and didn’t speak.

Luke studied her for a minute and decided that he’d better get out of there fast. She was upset. And he knew that her upset wasn’t just about him or the fact that they’d been sleeping in the same room. There was something else there. Something was troubling her, but he doubted he’d ever find out what it was.

He left then, leaving her with her back up against the wall. The house was quiet as he went down the stairs. He was surprised they hadn’t roused anyone, but he was glad. Particularly glad that they hadn’t roused the babies.

What was Nancy Slagel doing there anyway? And how long had she been there? When he’d taken off a few months ago, there hadn’t been a word about Nancy coming. Perhaps, it was a recent decision. He sank down on the davenport and pulled the afghan from the back of the cushions, covering himself. It wasn’t especially cold, and in two minutes, he kicked the afghan back off. He closed his eyes and thought about what he was planning to do now that he was back. Would he be baptized and join the church?

Or would he drag his rumspringa on for an even greater period of time? His dat was furious with him for leaving in the first place, which of course, was why he was planning to stay with Irene and Philip, instead of going home. But he couldn’t freeload off them forever. It wasn’t fitting. Although, he could be of help to Philip on the farm. That he knew.

He’d more than earn his keep, if he decided to stay.

He let out a heavy sigh. Once he joined church, it would be for good. Forever. No changing his mind. Was he ready for that? Truth be told, he’d enjoyed his association with the Englisch. He’d enjoyed driving a car and wearing jeans. Lying there in Irene’s and Philip’s Amish home, he felt guilty for even thinking such things. His father would come apart if he knew. Luke thought of his sweet mother. She was tough in her own way, but in truth, she often cowered before her husband. There were no two ways about it. Luke’s father was a hard man. His faith was so staunch that he was unable to even comprehend anyone who didn’t feel the same way.

Luke was a constant disappointment to him.

Luke flopped over on his other side. If he did join the church, it would go a long way toward mending fences between him and his dad. A long way. And his mother would be so happy.

He’d been gone from home for going on three years. Maybe, it was time.

Maybe.

Luke had attended a few Englisch churches in Indianapolis. He’d been completely out of his comfort zone, but he’d been curious. He couldn’t believe how short the sermons were and how noisy the singing was. They didn’t use musical instruments in his home church, and hearing the keyboard and the drums and the guitars was almost more than his senses could take. But after a bit, he grew to enjoy it. The congregants certainly seemed to like it.

While he’d been gone, he had yearned for the familiar Amish services more than once, but he didn’t seek them out. Well, there weren’t any in the city as far as he knew, but he could have found some in communities not too far away. But he hadn’t tried.

In Indianapolis, he’d stayed with Mavis Blackwell, a former Amish woman who’d left the church on her fortieth birthday. He’d expected her to try and convince him to leave the Amish, but she hadn’t. She explained her decision and her reasons behind it, and then never mentioned it again. She’d eventually married an Englisch widower with two young children, but he’d died after only seven years of marriage.

Mavis had welcomed Luke into her home and had even helped him find work at a local eatery. In return, he’d helped a bit with expenses and had watched her children for her when her work shift extended beyond normal hours.

But then, Luke lost his job. Downsizing, the manager had said. Luke didn’t mind much. He wanted to go back to his people. He was ready.

Except for the one thing…

He knew he needed to make his decision soon. He wouldn’t feel right being back for long unless he was ready to join the church.

He tossed and turned for another hour before he finally fell back to sleep.

Chapter Four

Nancy may have dozed a bit after her late-night episode with Luke Rupp. Now, come morning, her cheeks still grew hot just thinking about it. There she’d been, with a strange man in the very same bedroom. How in the world did Luke not know the room was already occupied?

When she’d said her name, he’d recognized it. Said they’d met a few years before. It was highly possible, but she didn’t remember it.

She glanced out the window at the lightening horizon. She needed to get out of bed. The baby was probably stirring. She made sure that she dressed completely before walking down the hallway to the bathroom. As she passed Irene’s and Philip’s room, she heard noises inside. Philip was probably already dressed to begin his chores. Or, he’d already done part of them and had come back in to check on Irene.

Nancy slipped into the bathroom. She hurried and was out in record time. She heard Zeke now, crying heartily. She rapped her knuckles on Irene’s door.

“Irene? Has he been fed?” she asked quietly.

“Nee. I’ll bring him to you in a bit,” came Irene’s answer.

“I’ll be downstairs, getting breakfast.” She turned to the stairs and went down. She leaned forward, craning her head over the railing, trying to see if Luke Rupp was down there. She didn’t hear anything and wondered whether he’d left.

At the bottom of the stairs, she glanced further into the front room and saw the afghan wadded at the end of the davenport. So, he must have done exactly as he’d said and finished the night down there. But where was he now?

She turned around and sucked in her breath. He was standing right there, his boldly handsome face smiling down at her.

“Gut morning,” he said, his voice quiet but cheerful.

“G-gut morning,” she answered, feeling a hot flush work up her neck.

She did recognize him after all. He’d been right—they had met before. She remembered his thin, angular face with those compelling blue eyes. His lips parted in a dazzling display of straight, white teeth. His black hair gleamed in the early morning light. His massive, self-confident presence made Nancy feel like a young clumsy school girl.

“I trust you slept well,” he said. His eyes crinkled, and she knew he was teasing her.

“Right well,” she replied, stretching up to her full height.

He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

“And you?”

“Like a boppli,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

They stood, neither moving, until Nancy began to fidget. She couldn’t spend the whole morning staring into his eyes, now could she? She took a step forward, but he didn’t move out of her way. She cleared her throat and gave him a questioning look.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, stepping to the side and waving her by with a great flourish of his arm. In spite of herself, she grinned. At the door of the kitchen, she turned back. He was watching her.

“I remember you,” she said simply and then went into the kitchen.

She grabbed the iron skillet from under the sink with a shaky hand. That Luke Rupp disturbed her. What was he doing there, anyway? Why wouldn’t he have gone to his own home? Didn’t his family live around there? She thought that they did.

The eggs had already been gathered. Had Luke done that? Or Philip? Well, no matter. They were there and ready to be fried up. She scooped a bit of bacon grease out of a small crock on the counter and plopped it into the frying pan. She turned on the gas burner and set the pan over it. It wasn’t long before the grease was popping and sizzling. She broke the eggs right into the pan, and the steam puffed into her face.

She glanced over her shoulder, wondering what Luke was doing now. She blew out her breath in disgust. What in the world was she doing? Luke’s actions had nothing to do with her.

* * *

“Gut morning, Nancy,” Irene said. She walked closer to the stove, cradling Zeke in her arms. “This little guy was awful hungry this morning.”

Nancy turned from the stove and gazed at the babe, who was sleeping again.

“He’s so sweet,” Nancy whispered, touching his cheek with her forefinger.

“That he is,” Irene agreed. She leaned in. “We have a guest today.”

Nancy licked her lips. “Jah. I met him.”

“He slept in the front room of all things.” Irene laughed. “He usually sleeps in the room you’re in. He must have realized you were here and slept downstairs.”

“Must have…”

“We didn’t know he was coming.” Irene readjusted the baby in her arms, bringing him up to her shoulder and patting his bottom. “But Luke is always welcome here. I think you’ve met before, a long time ago.”

“Jah. I remember.”

She leaned closer still. “He’s been on his rumspringa. A mighty long one, according to the people.” She shrugged. “Perhaps he’s back to stay now.”

“So, he hasn’t joined church?”

“Nee.”

Nancy raised her brow at that. “Really? How old is he?”

Irene grew somber. “Old enough to have already joined. I guess he wants to be sure. You know, some people do take their time.”

Nancy did know. One of the girls in Linnow Creek hadn’t been baptized and joined church until she was twenty-four. And that was only because she’d fallen in love and wanted to be married.

“Why is he here? Don’t his folks live in Hollybrook?”

Irene nodded and kissed Zeke on the cheek as he snuggled into her shoulder. “Jah. But he and his dat don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. He helps Philip when he’s here, and Philip likes the company.”

Nancy slipped the eggs onto a platter and flipped the potatoes one last time in the other frying pan. She stacked the toast onto a small serving plate. “Has Debbie woken up?”

“Not yet. But any minute now.”

“I’ll put the food on the table and go upstairs to check on her,” Nancy said. “The water’s hot. Do you want a cup of tea?”

“I’ll get it,” Irene said. “And thanks.”

Nancy dished up the potatoes and carried everything to the table. She wiped her hands on her apron and hurried upstairs to get Debbie.

Chapter Five

“You’ll come, won’t you?” Irene asked.

Nancy carried a stack of diapers into the front room, where Irene had set up another changing station.

Irene went on, “It’s been awhile since I’ve attended a quilting frolic. I felt so horrid during the last months of the pregnancy that I didn’t go much of anywhere.”

“I could stay here and watch the kinner…”

“You could.” Irene smiled. “But then I wouldn’t be able to show everyone how precious little Zeke is. Not many have seen him yet.”

Nancy laughed. “Okay. I get the picture now.” She walked over to Nancy and peered at the little guy’s chubby face. “He is beautiful.”

“Do say you’ll come. It’d be a help to me.”

“Now, you’ve gone to begging,” Nancy laughed again. “Of course, I’ll go. It’ll be nice for me, too. I don’t know many people in this district yet.”

“They’re gut women,” Irene said. “Every one of them.”

“What time do we leave?”

Irene glanced at the grandfather clock that Philip had given her as an engagement gift. “Ach! We haven’t much time at all. How soon can you be ready?”

“Just let me put a clean dress on Debbie, and I’m ready.” Nancy swooped the little girl off the floor. “Will Philip hitch up the pony cart for us, or shall I?”

“Let’s have Luke do it,” Irene said.

* * *

Luke stood next to the pony cart by the front porch. Debbie was already in the back, giggling. Irene was perched on the bench, ready to take Zeke from Nancy. Luke turned and held out his hand to help Nancy and Zeke up and onto the bench. The cart wasn’t big, and frankly, Nancy didn’t need a hand up. She gazed at him, painfully aware that she was already flushing. She grimaced. She didn’t like Luke’s effect on her, not even a little.

She wanted to ignore his hand, but she knew that would make an even bigger deal out of it, so she put her hand in his and let him help her in. The minute they touched, a zapping flash ran up her arm. She forced herself to act normally. But his hand was warm and gentle, and she fought the urge to stare into his eyes.

Instead, she murmured her thanks and handed Zeke to his mother. She grabbed the reins and clucked her tongue. With a gentle lurch, the cart moved forward.

“Mama, fun!” Debbie gurgled from behind them.

Irene laughed. “Jah. A ride in the pony cart is always fun, now, isn’t it?” She looked at Zeke, who lay in her lap, wide-eyed. “What do you think, little man?”

Debbie tried to stand up, but she promptly fell back on her bottom and started to cry.

“Now, now,” Irene cooed, turning to her. “You’re fine. But stay seated, won’t you?”

“Shall I hold her on my lap?” Nancy asked.

“It’s hard to drive that way. She’ll be fine.” Irene looked again over her shoulder. “You okay, Debbie?”

Debbie wiped her eyes with her fists and nodded.

“You’re going to have to direct me,” Nancy said. “I’ve no idea where the Smuckers live.”

“Keep going this way. I’ll tell you when to turn in.”

Nancy settled comfortably on the bench and let herself enjoy the surroundings. Spring always offered up a million different hues of green, and Nancy reveled in each one. Along the side of the road, she saw wild grape hyacinth already in bloom. Clumps of dandelions offered their brilliant yellow. The birds were more active, and Nancy kept her eye out for signs of new nests.

She smiled. After the winter she’d had, spring was as welcome as a fresh piece of berry pie. In truth, as far as the winter weather went, it hadn’t been that bad. But mixed with her beau’s and her sister’s horrible revelation, it could hardly have been a worse season. She shuddered, remembering her dream the night Luke had arrived. She’d had that very same dream—no, nightmare—before. Sometimes, she feared going to sleep, dreading its recurrence.

But she couldn’t seem to control it.

Maybe she’d had the dream this time because of her sister’s letter. She frowned slightly, knowing that she needed to write Linda back. The girl would be waiting … she could imagine her flying down the drive every day to fetch the mail, and then her disappointment because nothing was there.

Nancy squared her shoulders. She’d write Linda as soon as she got home.

* * *

Nancy couldn’t keep up with all the names Irene tossed at her. She smiled and nodded at every woman, trying to imprint their identities on her mind, but she knew it was hopeless. There had to be nearly twenty women there. Not to mention the children.

Debbie toddled off immediately, following one of the teen girls who was watching the tiny ones.

After Irene had properly showed off Zeke, Nancy took him so that Irene could join the circle around the large quilt. Within minutes, the needles were flashing, dipping in and out of the fabric at startling rates.

“So, Luke Rupp is back,” one of the women stated.

Irene’s eyes darted around the circle. “His mamm isn’t here today?”

“Nee. She said she was too busy at home. They’re digging up a new section to expand their garden.”

“More than likely, she didn’t want to face the embarrassment,” interjected another woman.

Nancy’s ears perked up. Embarrassment? Why? What had Luke done?

“That’s not kind, Ellen,” scolded an older woman.

“Perhaps not. But true enough.”

Nancy frowned. She wanted to know exactly what they were talking about, and she didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“But can you imagine how you’d feel if your son finally returned from his rumspringa only to go to a friend’s house instead of yours?” asked the first woman who had spoken.

Nancy saw Irene’s face color at that.

Ellen nodded. “It’s downright humiliating, it is. And that Luke. Imagine being in your twenties and still running about with the Englisch. I don’t imagine the boy will ever join church. I wonder that he even came back.”

“That’s not for us to say.” It was the older woman again.

“Perhaps not.” Ellen sniffed. “But if he were my boy—”

“Which he isn’t,” Irene said. She coughed and blew out her breath. “I’m sorry. That was rude. Luke is helping Philip with the farm, and for that, we’re grateful.”

Ellen cocked her eyebrow. “And shouldn’t he be helping his dat instead?”

Nancy could see the irritation in Irene’s eyes. But her voice was calm when she replied. “Be that as it may, we’re mighty glad for Luke’s help. Soon, of course, Zeke will be out there helping his dat, won’t you, Zeke?” Irene gazed at the baby in Nancy’s arms.

All the women laughed.

“I hate to break it to you, Irene, but that’s going to be a while,” said one woman, still chuckling.

“Nee. Not with my Zeke. He’ll be out in the fields before you know it.”

There was another round of laughter, and the talk went on to other topics. Nancy silently marveled at how adept Irene had been in changing the subject so smoothly.

So, Luke Rupp didn’t have the best reputation in the area. Nancy felt a twinge of sorrow for his mother. But mostly, she was just curious about Luke.

* * *

After a couple hours of stitching, the women took a break for refreshments. Nancy handed Zeke over to Irene to be nursed. That seemed to be the cue for everyone to turn their attention toward Nancy.

“We’re happy to have you with us,” the older woman—whose name Nancy now knew was Olive—said to her.

“I’m happy to be here.” Nancy snatched up Debbie who was toddling by, chasing after a little boy.

“I’m sure you’re a big help to Irene.”

“I’m trying.” Nancy smiled and set the squirming Debbie back down on the floor.

“So, you’re from Linnow Creek?”

“Jah. But I’ve visited Hollybrook off and on. You know that Irene’s mother, Doris, is my mamm’s sister.”

“We’re sorry to hear that Doris is doing so poorly. Back in the day, she would have never missed a quilting.” Olive tsk-ed her lips together.

“Nee. I imagine that’s a fact. Mamm has a beautiful quilt that Doris made for her after Mamm got married.”

Olive chuckled. “Lots of folks have quilts that Doris made at one time or another. The woman is a downright genius with it.”

Nancy smiled at the compliment. She’d visited her aunt a time or two since arriving, and she needed to go over there again. Doris didn’t get around well these days, often feeling too poorly to get out and about on her own.

“I’ll be going over to visit her tomorrow,” Olive said.

“I’m sure Irene appreciates that,” Nancy said. “And I’m sure Doris will be pleased to see you.”

Olive pressed her lips together in a smile.

The hostess, Martha Smucker, had laid out a sideboard with food. The women were milling about, sampling everything Martha had offered. Nancy felt a bit hungry herself and went over to grab something.

She hadn’t helped with the actual quilting that day. She’d only provided care for Zeke so Irene could sew. She found herself restless and ready to go back to Irene’s. She needed to get started on supper for the family.

She didn’t dare admit to herself that she was eager to see what Luke had been up to that day.

Chapter Six

Luke set the hammer down in the dirt next to where he was squatting. He took hold of the chicken wire with his fingers and gave it a good jerk. He smiled. It was solid.

Task accomplished.

He stood and picked up his hammer and the staple gun to return them to the barn. He hoped Philip was still inside so he could ask him what he wanted done next. Luke was keenly aware of his status there; if he didn’t contribute greatly with the work to be done, he’d have to leave. His conscience wouldn’t permit him to stay with the Benders otherwise.

Philip was in the barn, inspecting his plow.

“Need sharpening?” Luke asked.

Philip’s hand dropped from the blade. “Jah. I already oiled everything.”

“I can help you.”

“Come on, then.”

The two men worked on the blade, chatting amicably about the coming harvest.

“Did you see my new draft horse?” Philip asked, with no small amount of excitement in his voice.

“I did. He’s a beauty. Have you used him yet?”

“During the winter. We had a warm spell, and I took the opportunity to try him out. Plowed in a good amount of manure, too.” Philip straightened his back and glanced at the far stall. “He worked right fine.”

The large horse snorted and stomped as if he knew he was the topic of discussion.

“Got him for a gut price, too.”

“You went to the auction.”

“I did.”

“I’m glad for you.”

Philip took off his gloves and held them in one hand. “You been home yet?”

Luke paused before answering. “Nee.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

Luke sighed. “I reckon so.”

Philip shrugged. “Ain’t my business, I know. But I imagine Ben would be happy to see you.”

“I doubt it.”

“Come on, Luke. He can’t be holding a grudge, now, can he?”

Luke only just kept himself from retorting that yes, his father certainly could and would be holding a grudge. That was mostly what his dad did. But his mother…? It would be nice to see her.

“And your mamm? She’s probably worrying about you.”

Luke held up his hand. “Jah. Jah. I know.”

Philip laughed. “Sorry. I think I’m sounding like your third parent, ain’t I? Don’t mean to be sticking my nose in—”

Luke joined his laughter. “But you’re right. I’ll go see them soon.”

“Today?”

Luke pulled a face. “You don’t let up, do you?”

Philip put his gloves back on. “Not really.”

* * *

Luke’s parents’ farm was on the other side of the district. Philip loaned him a bicycle for the ride. The women had taken the pony cart, and the only other horses Philip had were the draft and his other plow horse, and neither was used to pulling buggies.

Luke didn’t mind. The weather was good, and the bicycle suited him fine. He snickered softly to himself as he pedaled his way down the road. His Englisch friends would get a kick out of seeing him riding what they would consider a clunker of a bike.

It would probably take him twenty to thirty minutes to reach his parents’ place. Now, if he had his friend’s car, he’d get there in a couple minutes flat. Well, perhaps a few more a couple, but not many.

When Luke first learned to drive an automobile, he’d been dizzy with the speed. But he’d soon grown accustomed to it. And from there, he’d grown to enjoy it and love it. Cars were amazing machines.

His dad would come unglued if he ever saw Luke driving a car. But there wasn’t much chance of that now. Luke had bid his Englisch friends farewell for the last time. Some of them didn’t believe him when he was leaving for good; they claimed that he’d be back before the month was over.

But Luke had meant it. He needed to return home, and he needed to make his decision. Living with a foot in two worlds had grown old and tiresome.

He felt a familiar pang in his heart. For him, leaving the Englisch had also meant leaving Ariel Youngman. There was no way around it.

“Are you sure you have to go?” she’d asked him, her lower lip trembling. Her large blue eyes pleaded with him, and it had nearly broken his heart. He was near tears himself.

Luke had steeled his emotions and told her, “Jah. I have to go back. It’s my heritage. It’s my family.”

“But you could make a new family. Here. With me.” She’d reached out for him then, and it was all he could do to step back.

When he did, tears streamed down her face. “You’re really leaving?”

He grabbed her to him, crushing her against his chest—breathing deeply of her scent, her sweetness. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear.

She’d clung to him, and he had to pry her off.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, tears falling from his own eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He’d turned and walked quickly away, before he weakened and stayed with her forever.

Luke shook off the memories and kept pedaling. He’d known from the start that he shouldn’t be around Ariel. She appealed to him too much. She had a saucy, sweet spirit that burrowed its way into his heart. But she’d had a wild streak, too. A carefree, sometimes careless, attitude toward life. While he had grown to love her, he was wary of her. She represented too many things that were the opposite of who he was.

Or who he thought he was.

Sometimes, he didn’t really know.

But he needed to find out. He was in his twenties and was no closer to settling down than he’d been in his early teens. Part of him—a large part of him—wanted to be finished with his floundering around, his flirting with the Englisch world. That was why he’d come back. But still, doubts niggled at him. If he was baptized, would he be satisfied to never drive a car again? To never get on a computer again? To give up the modern things of life which he’d grown to appreciate and enjoy?

He passed the Beckman’s place. He was getting closer to home. His jaw tightened, and he could feel him muscles tense, preparing for the confrontation he knew was about to happen. At least, it would be good to see his mother.

Without thinking, he began to peddle faster, the bike thumping quickly over the scattered potholes. He rode in the grooves along the side of the road made by hundreds of buggies passing by.

And there it was. The tall white house sat calmly amidst a large grouping of weeping willows, which had now fully leafed out. He saw movement to the side of the house, and his mother circled toward the expansive front porch. His heart gave a small leap at seeing her. From a distance, she looked the same as when he’d last seen her nearly a year ago.

He turned into the gravel drive, and the crunch of his wheels announced his presence. She turned, and her face broke into a smile. She waved at him.

He waved back and pulled up to the porch. “Mamm!”

She scurried over and threw her arms around him. “Luke! I’d heard you was back.”

He’d been wrong. Now, seeing her up close, she’d aged considerably. The fine lines around her eyes had deepened into furrows, streaking back into her hairline. Despite her expression of happiness, he sensed sorrow lurking beneath it, which concerned him.

“Mamm? You okay?”

She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Ach, Luke, it’s right fine to see you again.”

She stood back from him, looking him up and down. “You need some fattening up. Ain’t they feeding you at Irene’s?”

“I’ve hardly been there long enough to sneeze,” he said, teasing her. “But I could use a thick slice of your bread with a large dollop of blackberry jam.”

“Come on in, then,” she said, grinning. “I’ll give you two slices. How about that?”

He laughed and followed her inside. “Where is everyone?”

“Your dat and Robert is out in the fields. Arlene is hoeing the garden in preparation to plant. And of course, the older ones are on their own farms.” She set a loaf of bread onto a cutting board. “It’s so gut to see you.”

“You too, Mamm. And my mouth is already watering at the sight of your bread.”

It was true, Naomi Rupp made the best bread in the district, and anyone who tried it, would agree. All her women friends asked for her secret. His mother claimed to have no secret, but Luke always noticed her furtive smile when she turned away. Maybe someday, he’d catch her with it—whatever it was.

“How’s Dat?” Luke asked, tensing up again.

“He’s fine. He’ll be glad to see you,” Naomi said, but she didn’t look him in the eye when she spoke.

“Will he be coming in from the fields, soon?”

“I doubt it. You can tromp on out there if you like.”

“Not before my snack of bread.” He reached over and tweaked her kapp string, which obviously surprised her. He realized that he’d developed such familiar gestures while he was with the Englisch, and he wished he hadn’t done it. An awkward silence fell between them, which was only broken when his mother asked if he wanted a glass of milk.

“Sure do. Fresh from Old Sookie this morning, am I right?”

A look of sadness crossed his mother’s face. “Nee. Old Sookie died, Luke. Quite some time ago. This milk is from Nelly, our new milker.”

Old Sookie had died? He’d been gone longer than he’d thought. Everyone in the family had loved Sookie and grown up with the old gal.

“I’m sorry, Mamm. I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” she said. She must have realized how harsh her words sounded, because she smiled at him and made a show of presenting him with his bread.

He took a big bite and gave her a wide grin. “Gut. Delicious as usual.”

“Quit your talkin’ with your mouth full,” she mock scolded him, and they both laughed.

After finishing his snack, there was nothing for it but to go out to the fields and find his father. At least, his brother Robert was out there with him, and that might soften the reunion. Luke could only hope.

“I’ll stop back in for a few minutes after I see Dat,” he told his mother.

“Luke?”

“Jah?”

“Will you be staying with Irene? I mean, won’t you come home?” Her eyes misted over.

“That depends.” Luke sighed. “I’ll let you know.”

Luke started toward the door.

“Luke?”

He paused and turned back toward her again. “Jah?”

“He loves you. We all do.”

Tears burned in his eyes, and he turned away quickly before his mother could see. “I know, Mamm. I know.”

* * *

Luke didn’t have to walk far to spot his father and brother with the horse and plow. His father looked stooped, more so than ever before. Was he well? Luke supposed he was. Benjamin Rupp was too tough and ornery to ever get sick. Robert saw Luke right away and paused to wave, which caused his father to stop the horse and look toward the house.

He didn’t wave.

Luke drew in a deep breath and strode across the freshly tilled soil. Robert came to meet him.

“Luke! I heard you was back,” he said with a grin. “Gut to see you.”

“And you, Robert. How’s it going?”

Robert scanned the fields. “Making nice progress. Dat wants to start planting next week.”

“Weather’s been gut. That sounds like a fine plan.”

His father dropped the reins and climbed off the metal seat of the plow. He trod across the lumps of soil and stood before Luke.

“Son,” he said. His voice was as firm and strong as ever.

“Hello, Dat,” Luke said, feeling like a child again.

“You back?”

“I’m back.”

“Staying with Irene, are you?”

“Jah.”

“Your mamm wants you here.” Ben took off his hat and swiped his brow with his arm. He put it back on, smashing it low over his forehead.

“I’ve seen her.” Luke shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“You getting baptized?”

And there it was. The question that stood between them like a cement wall. Luke swallowed.

“I’m considerin’ it.”

Ben’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “Considerin’ it?”

“Jah, Dat.” Luke’s nostrils flared.

Robert cleared his throat. “That’s gut. Right?”

Ben flashed his younger son an irritated scowl. “Robert. Go check on the cow.”

“But, Dat, we—”

“Did you hear me, son?” Ben asked, his voice louder.

“Jah. I’ll go check on her.” Robert gave Luke a helpless glance and walked away.

A great silence stretched between Luke and his father. Luke was determined not to break it. He’d let Ben take the lead. He wanted to see where his dad was going; although, he was quite certain he already knew.

“You can talk to the bishop today. He’s home working his farm.”

Luke shook his head. “Dat, I’m not ready to see the bishop today.”

“You’re twenty-four years old. You’re more than ready!” Ben’s tone sharpened.

“Isn’t it more than age? Isn’t it about my faith and my decision to stay in the community?” Luke stiffened, immediately wishing he hadn’t spoken.

Ben drew himself up to his full height. He glared at Ben. “You don’t plan to stay Amish?” he asked, seething now. He stepped back, and for a split second, Luke thought he was going to stumble. But he didn’t. He stood firm. “Then, you ain’t no son of mine.”

“Dat—”

“You heard me.” Ben turned away, and his shoulders remained rigid. He cleared his throat and picked up the reins again, climbing onto the wide seat.

“I’m not sure, yet. That’s all I’m saying,” Luke tried again. He stepped forward. “Dat? I’m thinking on it. Praying on it.”

But Ben said nothing more. He kept his eyes straight forward, snapped the reins, clicked his tongue, and the draft horse pulled the plow through the earth. Luke stood there, watching his father move across the field. An overwhelming sadness surged through him, tightening his chest.

He hated it—this conflict. But he had to be true to himself, didn’t he?

His father would say no. Being baptized and joining church was a duty. A responsibility. It was the right thing to do. Personal feelings had nothing to do with it.

Yes, that was what his father would say.

And he wasn’t alone in his opinions, Luke knew. Truth be told, Luke did feel some responsibility to do just that. But he wanted his heart to be in it, too. He wanted to want it. To want it more than anything.

Dear Gott, he whispered. What am I to do?

Luke wasn’t blind to the irony of his prayer.

Ariel Youngman never prayed. She meditated, which as far as Luke could determine was near the same thing. But Ariel insisted it wasn’t. He hadn’t argued with her. He’d been too intrigued. Ariel talked a lot about following one’s bliss—whatever that meant. Yet, she wasn’t always the happiest of people. If she was following her bliss, it didn’t always work.

Luke continued standing there, watching his father until he became a speck in the distance. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned back toward the house. Robert was crossing the field again, right toward him.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

Luke met him. “Not well.”

“He wants you back home,” Robert said. “He might not say so, but he does.”

Luke grimaced. “I know. He wants me home, but only under his conditions.” He looked at his brother. “Did you get baptized?”

“Jah. Last year. You were gone.”

“So, you’ve joined church.”

“Jah.” Robert blushed. “I’ve got my eye on Penny Mast.”

Luke grinned. “Do you now?”

Robert’s blush deepened. “I do.”

“Question is, does she have her eye on you?”

He nodded and kicked a clod of dirt. “Jah.”

“That’s wonderful gut news. You going to make it official?”

“I’m thinkin’ on it.”

“Well, Mamm will be ecstatic, I’m sure.” Luke thought for a minute. “Isn’t Penny Mast that little red-headed girl you used to tease in sixth grade?”

Robert shrugged. “I never teased her … much.”

Luke laughed. “Well, gut for you, brother.” He clapped him on the back and took off again toward the house.

Chapter Seven

Nancy tucked Zeke into his crib for a late afternoon nap. Debbie had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor, and Nancy had carried her to her bed for a short lie-down also. Then she went to her own bedroom to write her sister. Truth was, she didn’t really want to, but she knew Linda would be waiting.

Nancy walked to her window and looked over the yard. Luke wasn’t there. She wondered if he’d gone home, and if maybe, he wasn’t coming back to stay at Irene’s. The thought filled her with a sense of loss, which seemed out of all proportion to the circumstances. After all, she hardly knew the man. Why should she care where he stayed?

Grimacing at herself, she walked back to her bed and plopped down on the quilt. She took out her stationery supplies and began her letter.

Dear Linda,

It was nice to hear from you. Things are busy around here, what with the new baby and all. I am enjoying caring for him. He’s as cute as a button and already growing so fast.

We went to a quilting, and I held the baby while Irene sewed. That arrangement suited me just fine as you know sewing is not my favorite activity, much to Mamm’s consternation. Ha! Truth be told, I could skip all the quiltings and not miss them a bit. Unless, of course, I have a sweet boppli to attend.

Little Debbie is talking more and more each day. She’s an active one. But she still naps at least once a day, which is nice to get some baking and cleaning done.

Nancy paused and chewed on the tip of her pen. Did she dare ask what she really wanted to know? Or should she just pretend it might not be happening. This was Linda, though, and Linda probably knew her best in the whole world. Still, Nancy hesitated. If the family knew she had written, they would expect Linda to read the entire letter aloud. Or worse yet, Mamm would ask to read it for herself.

Nancy had to be careful what she wrote.

But she didn’t think anyone would actually open the envelope if it was addressed to Linda, so she took out an extra piece of stationery. She would write a private note for Linda’s eyes only. Then Linda could then share the other letter with the whole household. That should work to satisfy the rest of the family.

Nancy finished the public portion:

Aenti Doris’s friend’s son, Luke Rupp, is staying with us for a spell. He’s helping Philip out in the fields, which is much appreciated. Speaking of Aenti Doris … I have visited her a couple of times. She seems poorly, and I know she’d appreciate a letter from the family. I’ll keep checking on her. Irene and I took the children over so she could hold the boppli, which made her very happy.

I hope all is going well with you. I miss you. Give everyone in Linnow Creek my greetings.

Your loving sister,

Nancy

There, that should do it. She took the second piece of writing paper and began her private message.

Dear Linda,

This letter is for your eyes only. I know you want me to forgive Susan for what she did. Sometimes, I feel like I have. Other times, I’m not so sure. To be truthful, I’m not sure I know exactly how to forgive her. Do I just say it’s all right? What she did was all right?

Because it wasn’t. You know that. Everyone knows that.

I will get over it. I do believe that. But I’m happy I’m here and not there. How would I be able to be in the same room with the two of them? How would I be able to look Susan in the eye? Or more to the point, how could she look me in the eye?

Although, she didn’t seem to have any problem with that when I was there.

What I really want to know is, are they going to be published? Has Susan shared that with you yet? I think it would help me to know for sure.

How are you, Linda? How are things going for you? I know we’re heading into planting season and all our chores will multiply. Do you think you could come visit me here? Irene would be delighted to see you.

I’ll sign off now. Thank you for keeping this letter private.

Your sister,

Nancy

Nancy folded both letters and placed them in the envelope. She attached a stamp and ran downstairs and out the front door. The mailbox was out on the main road. Once she was outside, she slowed her pace, feeling the sun on her face and hearing the birds twitter as they flitted about, looking for string and long grasses. Nancy loved springtime. And how wonderful that it seemed to have arrived earlier than usual that year. She remembered well those times they’d gotten snow and ice as late as May.

But this year, it was different. Spring was definitely in the air. She gave a rueful smile. She knew that Indiana weather could change on a dime, plummeting thirty or forty degrees overnight. But she was going to assume spring had come, and she was going to enjoy it.

As she picked up her step, a feeling of lightness filled her. She was glad she wasn’t back in Linnow Creek. She liked Hollybrook.

“Hello.”

Nancy stopped short. She’d been so entrenched in her own thoughts, she hadn’t even seen Luke until she was practically upon him.

“Hello.”

Luke had put his feet down on the dirt, stopped his bike, and taken off his hat. He looked up at the sun and smiled. “Nice day, ain’t so?”

She nodded. “It is. Spring has come, I’m thinkin’.”

He grinned at her. “Maybe.”

“I’m declaring that it has,” she said, with a song in her voice. “I refuse to even entertain the thought of a late frost.”

He put his hat back on and studied her. “You refuse to entertain…”

Nancy felt her cheeks go hot. She supposed that was an odd way of phrasing the thing. “You know what I mean,” she said.

“Oh, jah. No doubt about that.” He chuckled and started to leave, rolling his bike along.

“You stayin’ here?” Nancy blurted out and then clapped her hand over her mouth. Why’d she ask that? It wasn’t her business.

He cocked one eyebrow. “Who’s wanting to know?”

She bit her lower lip.

He continued. “Did Irene send you out here to find out?”

“Nee,” she cried. “Of course not.”

He slapped his thigh and laughed. “Just jokin’ with you.”

“She and Philip are glad you’re here.” And so am I, she silently added, wondering at herself.

Luke’s face clouded. “At least, someone is glad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ach, nothing. I talk too much.” He started to turn away.

“No, really. What do you mean?”

He sighed heavily. “My dat wouldn’t think so.”

She frowned. “Surely, you’re mistaken. He must be mighty glad to see you.”

“There’s the thing. One might hope so, but it ain’t that way.”

“Why not?” Nancy cringed at her own boldness, but she held her ground. She truly wanted to know, whether it was her business or not.

He laid his bike in the dirt and took a step closer to her. “You’ve probably heard I ain’t joined church.”

She felt her cheeks turn red, and she gazed at her feet.

“I guess you have.” He gave a wry chuckle. “It ain’t a secret. I’m twenty-four years old, Nancy. Most guys my age have been part of church for years. They’re married. Lots of them with kinner.”

“It’s not so old,” she murmured.

“You’re just being nice.”

She glanced up and met his gaze. She shrugged. “Maybe, I am.”

“Oh, you are.” He smiled at her. “My dat sees me as his failure.”

“His failure? That seems awful harsh.”

“Not really. Not according to him.”

“But … isn’t the decision to be baptized and join church personal? I mean, doesn’t it come from a person’s heart?”

Luke stared at her, and Nancy squirmed under his scrutiny.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You talk like the Englisch.”

She balked, stepping back. Her lips parted, and she blinked rapidly, trying to think of a response.

“Wait,” he said, touching her arm. “You think I’m insultin’ you. I’m not. I didn’t mean it that way.”

She gaped at his hand on her arm. The warmth of his touch sent a shock through her. What was he thinking to be touching her? They were almost complete strangers.

His eyes followed hers, and he snatched his hand away. “I’m sorry. Ach, I forgot where I was.”

She stood there, knowing she should flee, but she was quite incapable of moving her feet.

“I’ve been in the fancy world a lot of late…” he started, and then his words faded into nothing. His eyes didn’t leave her face.

“Your rumspringa…” she whispered.

“Jah.” He became more animated. “My rumspringa that has lasted an eternity…”

She smiled at that.

“I s’pose it does sound funny. But it really isn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to … well, I couldn’t make myself…” Again, his words faded.

“You didn’t want to return,” she said softly. “So, why did you?”

“That’s just it. I did want to return.” His eyes grew intense on hers. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come.”

“So, you didn’t come out of obligation?”

He shook his head. “I know your implication. The Amish way of life is an obligation. I know that. But I don’t agree with it.”

Her eyebrows raised.

“If I’m going to be an Amish man, I want it to be more than obligation. I want to want to. You know? I want to feel that commitment to Gott and His ways in our community.”

“But—”

He raised his hand. “You don’t have to try and talk sense into me. I understand. I understand it all. It’s been poured into my head since I was a boppli.”

She drew herself up. “I wasn’t going to try and talk sense into you. It’s your business.”

“You aren’t going to lecture me on my need to join church?”

She pulled a face. “Why should I?”

He leaned forward. “Because you’re a gut Amish girl, that’s why.”

His words were passionate, and they grated against Nancy’s ears. “You have me all figured out, do you?” she said, unable to keep the cutting edge from her tone.

He winced slightly. “I think I understand enough.”

Now it was her turn to lean forward. “You don’t understand anything.”

His mouth fell open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You think you have the lot of us pegged, me included. You’re as bad as the fancy people. They think they know all about us. They go to a movie or read a book or gawk at us in public, and they think they know who we are. We’re a group to them. Not people. Not a boy with a dream or a girl with feelings.” She took a huge breath, already regretting the entire conversation.

“But we are a group. That’s what makes us strong.”

“Maybe. But we’re also people. I’m a person.”

Luke shook his head. “Don’t let my dat hear you talk.”

She raised her chin. “I don’t care who hears me talk.” But that wasn’t true. She did care—she cared greatly.

“Then I stand corrected,” Luke said. He touched the brim of his hat with two fingers as if he were saluting her.

She swallowed. “I talk too much.”

He threw back his head and laughed, a freeing sound, filling the air around them. “Didn’t I just say the same thing?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose you did.”

“Nancy Slagel. You are a mystery.”

Her eyes widened. “Hardly.”

“Nee. You are.” He inclined forward, until his face was inches from hers. Her instincts were to back up, to get out of there, but once again, her feet wouldn’t budge. He brushed his lips over her cheek with a gentle kiss.

She tensed, every muscle in her growing hard. Had he just kissed her? She sucked in a long breath.

“Before you go running away, I’m sorry,” he said, quickly backing up. “I had no right to do that. Like I said, I’ve been in the world of late, and I forgot myself. Forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

He hurried away, walking briskly with his long, graceful stride. She stared after him, her face aflame. She raised her hand and fingered her cheek where his lips had touched her skin. She still felt his warmth there.

She needed to stay away from him. Far, far away. He was dangerous. She felt it deep within her … but if that was so, why did she have a sudden urge—an almost overwhelming urge—to run after him. To detain him. To talk with him some more?

Chapter Eight

Luke groaned. What in the blazes was wrong with him? He’d kissed her! Flat out kissed her. Was he stark raving mad? She’d never look at him again. Never.

And he wanted her to.

He groaned again as he walked straight into the barn, rolling the bike along beside him. He leaned it against the far wall and stood there. He was like a lost child, and it angered him. Why couldn’t he know already what he wanted to do in life? Didn’t he want to farm? Didn’t he want to stay there in the community? And marry a nice girl—why did Nancy come to mind—and settle down. Didn’t he want to make his father happy? And his mother? Didn’t he want to stop the wagging tongues about him…?

He closed his eyes, thoroughly disgusted. Even Robert, his younger brother, was on a straight path. The rest of his siblings were, too. So, what was wrong with him? He walked over to the stall where the pony Blackie was snorting and pushing against the door. The door rattled as Luke grew closer.

“Blackie, how are you, boy?” He reached out and stroked the horse’s nose. “What a name they gave you. Not very original, huh?”

The horse neighed and tossed his head.

“I don’t have a thing for you. Not an apple, not a carrot, not a sugar cube.” Luke chuckled. “I need to be more prepared, don’t I?” His expression grew solemn. “In life, too,” he added, wryly.

What was holding him back, anyway? He’d returned, hadn’t he? He’d grown weary of his double life. His mind flitted to Ariel. He wondered what she was doing that evening. Probably meeting up with her friends and going out on the town somewhere. He grimaced. They’d been his friends, too, up until a couple days ago.

They were a fun lot. Open and eager to try anything. Luke hadn’t indulged in everything they did; it didn’t feel right. After a few months of calling him names, they’d come to accept him, though. They quit teasing him when he turned down alcohol, or when he refused to smoke a joint.

The last thing he needed was to be hauled off to jail for drugs. He could just imagine the headlines that would make. But he wasn’t interested anyway. He could see no benefit from losing his lucidity. He never could understand how it was fun not to remember what you’d done the night before. Plus, he’d had more than his share of holding Ariel’s hair back when she bent over to vomit up her excess of booze.

But still, he’d been crazy about the girl. She didn’t party hard very often, and her normal state was basically happy. Even with her rare dips in mood, she was one of the most balanced people he knew—always laughing and flitting about from one interesting topic to the next. The girl was curious about everything. She wanted to try everything. And she usually did.

Luke had never known anyone like her.

Blackie pushed against his shoulder. “Sorry, old boy. I got distracted.” He rubbed the pony’s nose a bit more than patted him on the neck and left the barn. He imagined the family was already sitting down to supper. He wondered if Nancy would tell them he was back, and if they’d be waiting for him.

If so, it was rude to dawdle. He blew out his breath. He had no desire to sit anywhere near Nancy at the moment. She must think him a complete scoundrel. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Kisses couldn’t be taken back. What was done was done.

But he was going to make darn sure that he kept his distance from her in the future.

* * *

The family hadn’t waited. Which meant that Nancy hadn’t told them he was there.

“Ach, Luke! We didn’t know you were back,” Irene said, jumping up from the table.

Luke glanced at Nancy and saw her face flush pink. Nope. She hadn’t said a word.

“I’ll get you a plate and utensils.” Irene bustled to the kitchen.

“No worries,” he called after her.

“You saw your folks?” Philip asked.

“Jah. And then, I rode about the district, getting to know it again.”

Philip raised his brow at that. “Not much has changed, I reckon.”

Luke laughed and slid onto the bench across from Nancy. “You’re right in that.”

“But isn’t that gut?” Nancy asked.

Luke looked at her. “What? That nothing changes?”

Her flushed cheeks grew a deeper red. “Well… There isn’t anything wrong with things staying the same.”

He shook his head. “I suppose not.”

She looked down at her plate. “Unless, they get better.”

He frowned. “Not sure you can have it both ways.”

The minute the words left his mouth, he felt the tension in the room rise. He felt Philip staring at him, but he kept his eyes on Nancy. She met his gaze, and he saw something flicker in her eyes, but he couldn’t read what it was. The moment she saw his interest, it was like she’d drawn a curtain between them.

He sighed.

“Here you go,” Irene said, back from the kitchen. She handed him his dishes.

He took them, glad to have something to do. He dished himself a hefty helping of steamed veggies and took two chicken legs from the platter. “Thank you, Irene.”

“Nancy cooked it, so you’ll have to thank her.”

He glanced across at Nancy once again. “Thank you.”

She pursed her lips and nodded slightly in acknowledgement. His breath seeped out between his lips. She was a strange one, that Nancy Slagel.

At that moment, he missed Ariel’s easy smile.

Chapter Nine

Nancy sat on her bed, brushing out her long hair with angry strokes. What was the matter with that Luke Rupp, anyway? Had he made it his life mission to bother her? No one had kissed her since Mark Lapp. And Mark had been her beau! Other than that, no kisses at all. Oh, she remembered when she was a little girl, her mother would kiss her sometimes. But that was about it.

People in her district didn’t go about kissing each other. And Luke Rupp knew that. Her fingers went up to touch her cheek again. Her skin still felt hot—which she knew was not only impossible but ridiculous.

She swallowed.

It had felt good. His kiss. It had felt good.

Which made it even worse.

* * *

Two days later, Nancy received a letter from Linda. This time, when Philip handed her the envelope, she didn’t fear it was from Susan. She knew it would be from Linda.

“Go on outside,” Irene had said with a smile.

Nancy was holding a screaming Zeke, and Irene peeled him from her shoulder.

“You can’t read a letter in peace in here. Go on with you.” She gestured Nancy right out the door.

“Debbie, you want to come with me?” Nancy asked, holding out her finger for the girl to clasp.

“Nee, she doesn’t,” Irene said. “Go on with you. Have a moment to yourself.”

Nancy felt guilty leaving Irene with both children, especially with Zeke crying his head off. She was the mother’s helper, after all. Yet, she was eager to read her letter.

“All right. But I won’t be long.”

“Take as long as you want.” Irene laughed, over the protests of Zeke. “Some women have ten children and more. I’d be a pretty sad woman if I couldn’t handle two.”

Nancy smiled and stepped out the front screen door. She settled onto the porch swing and opened the envelope.

Dear Nancy,

Guess what? Mamm and Dat told me that I can come to Hollybrook! Isn’t that wonderful gut news? Dat has already arranged the transportation for me. He asked Abraham to drive me. I think he’s the same Mennonite gentleman who drove you, isn’t he?

We have it arranged for six days from now. That will give me time to hear back from you if this isn’t all right. Can you please ask Irene? Assure her that I will help with the care of the babes and the house. I certainly expect to work and help however I can while I’m there.

Oh, Nancy! I’m so excited to come and see you. And to see Irene and Philip and the children. I also am bringing a lap quilt for Aenti Doris. I told Mamm that I was certain Doris didn’t need any more lap quilts. But evidently, Mamm and Doris used to share this quilt when they were just kinner. Mamm says that the two of them would wiggle underneath it and cuddle when Grossmammi would read them Bible stories.

Anyway, I’ve already packed it. You will probably laugh at me, but I’ve already packed Dat’s old suitcase with everything I’m bringing. In truth, Dat’s suitcase is barely hanging together, but you took the newer one. Six more days, Nancy! And I’ll be there.

Will you check with Irene and Philip to make sure it’s fine? We can share a room again, just like always.

Your sister,

Linda

Nancy smiled through the entire reading of the letter. She couldn’t be happier at the news. She missed Linda. It would be lovely to have her around again. She refolded the letter and put it back inside the envelope, and then she went inside.

“Gut news, I hope?” Irene asked as she shifted Zeke to her other shoulder. The baby had stopped crying and was happily sucking on his first two fingers.

“The best news. Irene, would it be all right for Linda to come and visit for a spell?”

Irene raised her brows. “Why, that would be perfect! I’ve been missing your entire family lately, and to have Linda come… And she can meet Zeke and see how Debbie has grown.”

“She asked me to tell you that she’d work hard to help in any way she can while she’s here. And she can share my room with me.”

Irene laughed. “You don’t have to convince me, Nancy. I’m delighted to have her. And Philip will be pleased, too. I’m not worried about her working.” She laughed again. “If I recall, that girl hardly lets anyone finish their meal before toting the dishes right off the table and into the kitchen.”

Nancy giggled. “Jah. That’s Linda, all right.”

“When is she coming?”

“In six days…” Nancy considered. “Nee. A bit sooner, I’m thinking. It probably took one day for her letter to get here. I’ll write her back right away and tell her it’s fine.”

Irene clucked her tongue. “Surely, she knew that without asking.”

Nancy smiled. “She wanted to be polite. But I will say this, she’s already packed her suitcase.”

Irene grinned. “That’s more like it.”

* * *

The day before Nancy expected Linda to arrive, she was out in the front yard, tidying up the flower beds. The tulip and daffodil bulbs had been in bloom for a week or so, but there were leftover weeds and grasses to be pulled from the winter. Nancy enjoyed digging in the dirt, especially as the weather shifted into spring. She knelt, loosening the more stubborn weeds with her trowel before yanking them out.

“Looks fun.”

Nancy turned to look up at Luke. He stood with his hands on his hips, watching her.

“I like gardening,” she said. They hadn’t spoken directly since the kiss episode, and truth be told, she was glad of it. She still hadn’t figured out what they could possibly say to each other after such a breech in decorum.

Well, it looked like she wouldn’t have to wonder any further. There he stood, speaking to her. He studied her for a moment, and then said, “You have a smudge of dirt on your left cheek.”

Nancy’s hand flew up to wipe at it. She had forgotten completely that she was wearing her garden gloves which were covered in dirt.

Luke laughed. “You just made it worse.”

Nancy pulled off one glove and then brushed at her cheek. She must look a fright with dirt on her face. Which, naturally, he would point out. She squirmed under his gaze. For some odd reason, his mentioning the dirt on her face seemed intimate somehow. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed with difficulty. Why did he always have such a strange effect on her? She didn’t like it.

“It’s better now,” he said, squatting beside her. “Jah. Much better.”

He was close. Too close. Is this how the Englisch spoke to one another? With their faces up in each other’s space like this? Without thinking, she moved away a bit, leaning back on her haunches.

Clearly, he noted her movement because his face colored, yet his eyes didn’t waver from hers. “Am I making you nervous?” he asked, his tone low and resonant.

She blinked rapidly. What a thing to ask. She stiffened and resumed her former position, closer to him. “Nee. Of course not.” Her words had more snap than she’d intended.

A slow smile tugged at his lips. “Gut. I’d hate to think that you are afraid of me.”

Quick irritation swelled through her. “Why should I be afraid? Are you dangerous or something?” But she didn’t need to ask. She already knew the answer. Yes. Yes, he was dangerous.

“Hardly,” he answered. He stood, brushing off his knees as if he’d knelt right in the flower bed. “The flowers look fine. What you’re doing. It’s right nice.”

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“So, did I overhear correctly? Is your sister Linda coming? Your younger sister, right?”

Her irritation slipped away as she thought about Linda’s imminent arrival. “Jah. Probably tomorrow.”

“I remember her, too.” He adjusted his straw hat. “Not as well as I remember you, though.”

Nancy dropped her gaze back to the flower bed.

“Have you told Linda about me?”

Nancy wanted to cry out in frustration. How arrogant was the man? “Nee,” she said quickly. Too quickly. And then her face flamed with guilt. She’d just lied to him. Flat out lied.

He looked taken aback. “Oh. Sorry. I just assumed you had, since I’m here and all.” He shrugged and turned to go.

“Luke?”

He gazed back down at her. “Jah?”

“I did.”

“You did what?”

“I told her you were staying here.” Nancy could feel her face burn red.

An easy smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll see you at the noon meal, Nancy Slagel.”

And he walked away.

She sank onto her haunches again and watched him walk away. His gait was long and easy, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

* * *

Nancy had swept the floor, changed the sheets on the extra bed in her room, and cleared out the top drawer of the dresser. All was ready for Linda. She expected her sometime that morning. The drive wasn’t that far, and she assumed Linda would want to make an early start.

Yesterday afternoon, Nancy had baked three apple pies, using the apples Irene had down in the cellar from last year’s harvest. Apples weren’t a major crop in Indiana by any means. For some reason, they just didn’t grow that well. But Irene had two Fuji apple trees that had produced a decent crop, and she still had a bushel left in the cellar.

“Apple pie is one of Linda’s favorites,” Nancy explained.

“Smells so gut, I’d like to indulge right now,” Irene said, watching Nancy take the pies from the oven.

“But you’ll wait, right?”

Irene laughed. “Goodness! I hope I have that much self-control. But my, they do smell gut.”

Debbie tugged on Nancy’s dress. Nancy bent down to her. “Yes, honey. What do you want?”

“I firsty,” she said.

Nancy laughed. “I’ll get you a drink.”

Later, Nancy had to chase Philip away from the pies, too. Only her solemn promise that everyone would get plenty the next day saved them.

* * *

Nancy was back on the front porch again, with Debbie playing at her feet. Every time she heard any noise from the road, her ears perked up and she prepared to bound out of the swing to greet Linda. After an hour or so, and after reading Debbie four books and finally sitting on the porch floor with her to play blocks, Nancy despaired of Linda ever coming.

The screen door squawked open and Irene stuck her head outside. “No sign of her yet?”

Nancy sighed. “Nee, and Debbie is getting mighty restless. I guess I might as well come back inside and work on the noon meal.”

“I’ve already got it underway.”

“Is Zeke still sleeping?”

“Jah. But he should be up from his nap soon.”

Nancy stood. “Come on, Debbie, let’s go inside.”

As soon as Nancy turned toward the door, she heard the crunch of gravel and the sound of a motor car. She swirled around and watched as the white van approached. Linda! She had finally arrived. Nancy’s pulse increased, and she skipped down the steps to meet her sister.

The van pulled up right next to the porch, and Nancy’s wide grin fell from her face. Her hands clenched at her sides. It wasn’t Linda who climbed out of the van at all.

“Susan?”

Chapter Ten

Susan chewed the corner of her lip before putting on a huge smile. “Hello, Nancy. And Irene … how nice to see you.” She bent down. “And here’s little Debbie. Gracious, how you’ve grown.”

Nancy’s mind whirled. Had this been the devious plot all along? Had Linda only pretended she was coming? Had she planned from the beginning to send Susan in her stead, so she could force Nancy to forgive Susan and mend fences? No. Surely not. Linda wouldn’t be so deceitful.

Susan moved to stand right in front of Nancy. “How are you?” she asked. Her expression was wary, and in truth, she looked a bit pathetic standing there. Clearly, she knew full well that she wasn’t going to be met with joy.

Nancy blinked at her. “Where’s Linda?”

Susan rubbed her hands together and drew in a long breath. “She got sick last night. Her stomach hurts, and she was awake all night, vomiting. She could hardly come in that condition, could she?”

It wasn’t really a question, so Nancy didn’t answer.

Irene stepped forward and grabbed Susan’s suitcase. “I’m so sorry to hear that. But how lovely that you came instead. It’s wonderful gut to see you, Susan.”

Susan turned to the driver, who had gotten out of the van. “Thank you, Abraham. So, you know when to come and get me, right?”

“One week from today. I’ll be here.” He tipped his head in farewell, got back into the van, and took off.

Nancy hadn’t moved. She was still grappling with the fact that she was going to have to be with Susan all week. Not to mention that she would have to share a room with her. She stood like a fence post, her mind and heart battling it out. She knew her Christian duty was to be kind and loving, but her heart wanted to spurn Susan. Her heart wanted to reject her sister and hurt her as badly as she’d been hurt.

She sent up a desperate prayer for grace.

“Come on inside,” Irene was saying, leading Susan up the steps. “The boppli is still sleeping, but he should be awake soon. Ach, he’s a precious one. Come on, Debbie.”

Nancy heard the screen door slam behind them, but still, she stood. She took a deep breath. All right. This was her chance to be gracious. This was her chance to demonstrate her faith. She gritted her teeth.

A noise at her side alerted her to someone’s presence. She turned to look, and of course, it was Luke. Her shoulders slumped. Why did he have to turn up at that precise moment? As if she would possibly want him as a spectator to her anguish.

“Your sister here?” he asked. “I heard the van.”

“It’s Susan.”

“Susan?” He paused, looking confused. “I thought it was Linda who was coming.”

“She’s sick.

He studied her. “So, why are you standing here outside? Why aren’t you in there with Susan?”

Nancy scowled at him. “It’s none of your business!” She clapped her hand over her mouth. What did she always have to be so blunt with him?

His eyebrows shot up, and his lips parted. “My. My. I do declare, Nancy Slagel. You sounded exactly like my Englisch friends right then.”

Her hands curled into fists. Again, with that? She glared at him. What a comparison to make. Being likened to the fancy people was something every Amish person avoided. But Nancy couldn’t make herself storm off. Nor could she make herself go inside and chat happily with Susan and Irene.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “I take it you don’t much like this sister.”

The anger seeped from Nancy, and she suddenly felt like she needed to sit down. “She stole my beau, Mark Lapp. She stole him from me.”

Luke’s expression reflected his surprise. “Did she now?” He took her arm and pulled her up onto the porch and led her to the swing. “Sit down. Take a minute,” he said quietly.

He didn’t sit with her, which was a relief. But he didn’t leave her, either.

“I’d like to hear that story sometime,” he said, speaking in a low, kind tone. “It must have been awful for you.”

Nancy shook her head. She had no inclination to tell him anything, even though he was acting quite decently toward her. She, on the other hand, was acting like a child. She was hardly a lovesick teen, floundering about at a youth singing. She was a grown woman.

She stood and squared her shoulders, walking to the door. “Thank you, Luke. But I’m fine now.” She nodded to him and pulled open the screen door.

“Nancy?”

She paused. “Jah?”

“I’d still like to hear that story sometime.”

She could feel his compassion like a warm quilt draped across her shoulders. She blew out her breath and blinked. The man flustered her. Not knowing what to say, she nodded again.

Once inside the house, she heard voices coming from the kitchen. Taking a bolstering breath, she went in there. Susan gave her a forced smile, but her relief that Nancy had at least come inside was clearly evident. So, her sister wanted to make amends, or so it appeared. Nancy was a bit perplexed. Susan had never displayed much remorse before. Maybe her conscience had finally kicked in.

“Can you take Susan up to your room?” Irene asked Nancy. “I’m sure she’d like to unpack.”

“Jah. Of course,” Nancy said. “This way.”

Susan followed her up the steps and into their room.

“This is the bed I’m using. The one over there is free for you. I also cleared out the top drawer for your things.”

Susan dropped her suitcase on the floor and lowered herself to her bed. “You’re disappointed.”

Nancy shrugged.

“Linda was beside herself. She really wanted to come.” Susan gave a rueful laugh. “She kept insisting to Mamm that she was well enough to come, and then she would run into the bathroom to vomit.”

“I hope she feels better soon.” Nancy perched on the edge of her bed. “She could have postponed the trip.”

“She could have…” Susan cleared her throat. “Mamm really wanted me to come.”

“Did she now?”

“You know why.” Susan stared frankly at Nancy.

Yes, Nancy did know why. Her mother never liked any friction between her daughters. Truth be told, her mother had probably considered Linda’s illness a gift from God. It created the perfect chance to foist Susan onto her.

“You don’t want me here.”

Nancy frowned. “You have to admit, it’s awkward.”

“I broke up with Mark.”

Nancy’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“You heard me.”

The image of Mark’s handsome face filled Nancy’s mind. She’d spent a lot of time over the last couple years admiring him. Not only his looks, but his kind manner, and his good sense of humor. They had laughed many, many times together, enjoying each other’s company. Nancy loved the way his brown eyes gleamed when he was amused. And the way he hit his thigh when he laughed. She had loved everything about him. Thinking of him still caused her heart to squeeze painfully inside her chest.

And Susan had stolen him from her. But now, she’d broken up with him? It didn’t make sense.

Susan sucked in air so loudly, Nancy heard it.

“Why? Why did you do it?” Nancy asked her.

Susan’s eyes welled with tears. “It wasn’t worth it.”

“What wasn’t worth it?”

“You.”

Nancy didn’t move. “Me?”

Susan slowly stood and walked across the room. She sank down beside Nancy. “I know you thought I didn’t care. I know you considered me some kind of monster for what I did—what we did…” Her voice broke.

Nancy was in such shock, she couldn’t even respond.

“I know you don’t like me. You like Linda. You’ve always liked Linda. But me…?” Susan shuddered. “And I made it a million times worse when I did what I did…”

Nancy swallowed and stared at her sister.

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Susan waved her hand in the air. “I’m sure you thought I did. You probably thought I did it all on purpose or that I planned it out. But I didn’t mean to fall for Mark. He was just so appealing, and he was so attentive, and he … well, he…” She rubbed her hand over her mouth. “He liked me, too.”

Susan’s words sliced through her. Yes. Mark liked Susan. Nancy was painfully aware of that.

“And before I knew it, we were laughing together and growing closer, and neither of us could ignore what we felt anymore.”

Nancy stiffened. Was all this supposed to make her feel better? To make her feel closer to Susan? The girl was crazy.

“So, he liked you. I know. I get it—you don’t have to go on and on about it. But it doesn’t explain why you ended it.”

Susan put her hand on Nancy’s arm. “Because I can’t stand knowing that one of my sisters hates me.”

“I don’t hate you, Nancy.”

“Jah, you do.”

“I’m angry at you.”

“So is Linda. Both my sisters can’t stand me.”

Nancy let out her breath in a long sigh. “Maybe it goes both ways. You’ve never felt a rush of affection for us, either.”

Susan wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I know. I’m sorry. But I do love you both.”

Nancy sighed again. “Are you saying you broke up with Mark to mend our relationship? Yours and mine?”

“Jah.”

Nancy’s nostrils flared. She wondered what Mark thought of that. “And Mark?”

“He’s upset.”

“Really.” Nancy didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but there it was.

Susan squared her shoulders. “I should have ignored my feelings. I should never have let it get that far. I’m sorry, Nancy. Truly, I am.”

Nancy looked into her eyes and saw the sincerity there. Something inside her shifted, and she found herself feeling a kernel of warmth toward Susan.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I appreciate your apology.”

She sat perfectly still. She was afraid to think or to move. She didn’t want to upset this new beginning between them. But still, her mind whirled. Why hadn’t Susan apologized months ago? Why was it suddenly important to apologize now? Why had she betrayed her in the first place? Nancy shook her head, shoving the questions away.

“Are you still angry I came?” Susan asked.

Nancy smiled, surprised to find that her smile was genuine. “Not as much.”

Susan nodded. “That’s something, isn’t it?”

“Jah. That’s something. But Susan…” Nancy licked her lips, forcing herself to continue. “I’ll not have you breaking off your relationship with Mark for me. I don’t want to be the cause of that. Otherwise, it’s kind of the same thing that you did to me.”

Susan flinched. She straightened her dress over her knees. “I’ve made up my mind. Besides, I don’t think Mark ever fully got over you.”

Nancy’s chest tightened. She backed away, scooting across the quilt until she was up against the bedpost. “Wait. Is that what this is all about? You broke up with him because he still loves me? And then, you came here pretending it was for me that you did it, and that you were sorry?”

“Nee!” Susan cried. “Nee. Wait. That’s not it. I didn’t say it right. I mean… Well, I meant… It’s just that I think Mark feels badly about you and how it happened.”

Nancy stood, her heart in her throat. “He should feel badly! He was cruel to me. Cruel!”

Susan’s expression was frantic. “Wait. Don’t be mad. Nancy, it wasn’t because he still has feelings for you. Truly. It wasn’t. I ended it with him because I wanted you and me…” She stopped and couldn’t continue. She held her hand over her mouth.

Nancy watched her, a sick feeling in her heart. She’d thought that her sister had really come to make amends. But now… Now, she didn’t know what to think. The hard truth was that she didn’t trust Susan.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Susan. I really don’t.”

Susan stood, too, and walked over to her own bed. She sat down. “I know,” she whispered.

Nancy waited, hoping Susan would say something more. Something to assure her that her motives were pure. But Susan didn’t say something more. Not one word. She only looked at the floor and fingered the edge of her apron. Nancy felt worse than when they’d started the conversation. Her heart was in turmoil. She wanted to believe her sister. She wanted to. But Susan was so confusing. Nancy had read something once about a person who talked from both sides of her mouth. Right then, that was how she felt about her sister.

The backs of her eyes burned as she looked at Susan. Finally, with a huge sigh, she walked over to her, waited again for another word that never came, and left the room.

This was going to be a hard week.

Chapter Eleven

The rest of the day went surprisingly well. The children kept Susan occupied while Nancy spent the bulk of her time in the kitchen. Irene took advantage of the extra help inside the house, and spent her day outside working in the garden, preparing the soil for planting.

When supper was over and the day was finally coming to a close, Nancy tucked both of the children into bed, went back downstairs, and stepped outside onto the front porch. She sat in the swing and pushed gently against the floor, swaying back and forth in the soft twilight air. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, smelling the freshly cut grass.

“How are you doing?”

Nancy’s eyes flew open, and she stared at Luke. He was leaning against one of the large square posts at the edge of the porch. He had a lazy look on his face, and she half expected him to be chewing on a piece of straw. Which he wasn’t.

“Hello, Luke.”

“How are you doing?” he repeated, his expression tender.

She swallowed. He knew entirely too much about her.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He crossed the porch and sat down on the swing with her. She squirmed, scooting to the very edge.

“Ach,” he said, his voice sharp. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Violated our ways. It wouldn’t do for me to be seen sitting with you here, now would it?”

“Not really.”

“Of course, the fact that it’s nearly dark and that no one from the road can see us and that it’s only Irene and Philip and your sister inside, would make no difference, would it?” In the shadows, the look he gave her was a challenge.

“What do you want me to say? Things are as things are.”

“They don’t have to be.”

She gazed at him. “And that’s the whole issue, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean, the whole issue?”

“Here. This. Right now. The reason you don’t know whether to join church.”

He tilted his head and regarded her. Then he smiled and shook his head. “Ah, Nancy Slagel. You are getting to know me too well.”

She gave a start at that. He’d just stated the very thing she had thought about him knowing her too well. She bit her lip, trying to decide if he was teasing her or if he was being dead serious.

He put his hand on her arm, and she felt his warmth shoot through her. She sucked in her breath and stared at his fingers.

He shook his head and removed his hand from her arm. “And there it is again. Another mistake.”

“I didn’t say it was a mistake,” she uttered and then went cold. What in the world was she saying? He would think her forward.

He looked at her with more interest. “It’s getting too dark out here,” he said. “I can’t see your face well enough.”

Which was a good thing, because Nancy was quite sure her cheeks were flaming red.

“I’m sorry the wrong sister came,” he said softly. “I could feel the tension at supper.”

“You could?” Nancy was genuinely surprised. She’d thought she’d covered it quite well.

“Thick as a bucket of mud.”

She laughed. “Perhaps.”

“You going to survive the visit?”

“Of course.” She wanted him to touch her again. Wanted to feel his comfort, his compassion. Instead, she stood. “Good night, Luke.”

He uttered a grumbling sound, and then he cleared his throat. “Good night, Nancy Slagel.”

Chapter Twelve

Luke crept down the hallway to his room at the far end of the second floor. After the debacle of sleeping in the opposite bed in Nancy’s room and then camping out on the couch, he had asked Irene if he could clear out one of the spare bedrooms. She was more in favor of him using the daadi haus out back, but Philip said he wanted to paint the inside before anyone stayed in there again. Considering that they were moving into planting season, painting the daadi haus wasn’t going to happen any time soon. But the room at the end of the hall suited Luke fine. He just wished he wasn’t so aware of Nancy’s presence every time he passed her room to get to his own.

More often than not, he chuckled lightly under his breath as he went by, remembering her indignation at his presence in there that night. It would make such a good story to tell. But of course, he would never tell it. Nancy would be horrified.

He liked her. She was enjoyable to talk to, and she seemed to understand him without getting all judgmental. And truth be told, that was hard to come by in their community.

He’d visited his mother again the day before. She’d been glad to see him, and although awkward, he’d stayed for nearly an hour chatting with her about nothing in particular. Neither one of them mentioned the possibility of him visiting his dad out in the fields. In any case, he wouldn’t have gone out there. To what purpose? He’d just have to listen to his father’s bitter disappointment in him. Again.

Luke hated it. But he didn’t know what to do about it.

He wished he could see Ariel. She’d make it into a joke and have him laughing within minutes. She had a way of doing that, and he appreciated it. No need to get all heavy and pensive with her. He shut the door to his room quietly. He didn’t bother with the lantern, just felt his way to the bed and sat down. He closed his eyes and imagined Ariel’s sweet face, and the way she always cocked one eyebrow and grinned at him.

A heaviness moved over him. He missed her. And he knew she missed him, too. They’d spent so much time together before he left.

Had he led her on? No, he’d been upfront with her. But still, she never believed that he’d really leave and return to his home. For quite a while, he didn’t believe it either. But there he was, sitting on a spare bed in Irene’s house, excruciatingly aware of Nancy Slagel just down the hall.

* * *

Luke slapped the cow on her rump and stood up from the milking stool. He carefully slid the full bucket out from under the creature and carried it to the edge of the barn. He glanced out the door and up to the sky. It was going to be another beautiful spring day—warm, too. He heard a door slam from the main house and knew Philip was probably heading out to the fields. He’d get in an hour of work before breakfast was even announced.

Well, he needed to get the milk inside before Nancy wondered where it was. He grinned, looking forward to seeing her. Sometimes, he paused at the side door of the big house listening before going inside. If he was lucky, he could hear her humming as she scurried about the kitchen making breakfast. Other times, he’d hear her talking softly to Zeke.

Today, he only heard pots and pans banging around. He went inside, careful not to drip any of the milk. He stopped at the doorway, surprised that it wasn’t Nancy in there at all. It was Susan.

“Gut morning,” he said, offering her the bucket.

She looked frazzled. She pushed a wisp of hair off her forehead, making an attempt to tuck it under her kapp. “Oh. Luke. Gut morning.”

She took the milk and set it on the counter. “Breakfast might be a little late.”

He shrugged. “We’ll survive.”

She frowned. “Well, I know that.”

Hmm, a bit of sassiness must run in the family, he thought.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said and turned to go.

“Wait,” she said. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve been rude. Thank you for bringing in the milk.”

“You’re welcome.” He stood for a moment, and their eyes locked. He tried to read what she was thinking, but he couldn’t. With another shrug, he left the room, nearly knocking into Nancy.

“Ach, sorry.” Nancy put her hand on her chest. “Gut morning.”

“Back at you,” he said with a smile. She looked lovely, her face slightly flushed as if she were in a hurry. Her hair was smooth and shiny, all tucked away neatly under her kapp. Not that he could see much of it. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked, and he stifled the urge to reach up and touch it.

She was giving him a funny look, as if she could read his thoughts. He coughed and stepped out of her way.

“I’m going to feed the chickens,” she said. “Susan told me that she’d fix breakfast.”

“I’ll help you,” he said, glad for an excuse to be with her.

Again, she gave him a funny look, but she didn’t protest. Together, they walked outside and into the barn to the sack of chicken feed. Nancy scooped up a panful, and they headed to the coop.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

“Well enough,” Nancy replied.

He walked too closely to her, and he knew it. But he couldn’t make himself give her more space. She moved quickly as if trying to get the task over with. He was spooking her, and he was just perverse enough to enjoy it. Oh, he liked her. And he liked to set her a bit off-balance.

She stopped abruptly. “What are you doing?”

He raised his hands in mock innocence. “Me? What do you mean?”

Her brows drew down over her eyes in a frown. “You know full well what I mean.”

“Okay. You caught me. I’m helping you feed the chickens.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Nee. That’s not what you’re doing. You’re trying to trip me or something. Why are you walking so close?”

He nearly laughed. “Trip you? Nee. I’m innocent of that.”

She lowered her voice. “Then what are you guilty of?”

At this, he did laugh. “I never said I was guilty of anything. You’re the one accusing me.”

She puckered her lips into an adorable pout. “Fine,” she said and marched off.

He hurried to catch up, maintaining his closeness. She stopped again. “Quit it!”

“Quit what?”

She hesitated, and then her eyes danced, and she bit her lip. He could see she was trying not to laugh. He leaned closer still.

“Am I making you nervous again?”

She straightened her spine. “Never. Why do you always think you’re making me nervous?”

“Because I’m trying to make you nervous, Nancy Slagel.”

She laughed. “Well, stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”

He nodded. “Jah. But you have to admit, it’s fun.”

She stared at him and didn’t look about to admit anything.

“And now, you’re in a better mood, aren’t you?” he teased.

Her expression sobered. “I was in a fine mood before.”

“Maybe so. But even better now, right?” He reached out and brushed his knuckles under her chin. It was a small touch, and quick, but he felt it through his whole body.

Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth as if to speak, and then clamped it closed. She twirled on her heel and walked to the coop. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it firmly behind her.

He moved to the wire fence and stood watching her, his hands hanging from the wire. “You don’t need my help?”

She glanced at him and then back at the clucking hens who were swarming around her. “Nee,” she said, keeping her gaze averted.

He smiled and slapped at the wooden frame. “Okay. See you at breakfast.” He chuckled lightly and walked away. He should feel badly for teasing her so outrageously, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Her reactions were so cute and so predictable that he was enamored. With a shake of his head, he walked out to the field to see if Philip needed him.

* * *

Luke was heading back to the barn at mid-afternoon when he spotted the stranger. He paused at the wide-open barn doors and stared at the road. A man was pacing back and forth at the end of the drive. He had a small suitcase with him that sat under a tree.

Who in the world had deposited the guy there? Luke couldn’t see a car, and as he walked closer, he realized it was an Amish man. But there wasn’t a buggy or wagon around either.

The man stopped pacing when he saw Luke approach. He stood still, his arms hanging at his sides.

“Can I be helping you?” Luke asked.

The man didn’t answer until Luke was right in front of him.

“This the Bender farm?” the man asked. He took off his hat and squinted at Luke.

“It is. Who are you?”

The man swallowed. Luke figured they were about the same age, mid-twenties. But the guy had a strange look on his face, apologetic yet somewhat frantic at the same time. Luke waited for his answer.

“I’m Mark Lapp from Linnow Creek.”

Mark Lapp? Linnow Creek? Luke’s mind snapped into place. Was this the guy? Nancy’s beau?

“What do you want?”

“Is … Susan Slagel here?”

Luke stared at the man. This was the guy who broke Nancy’s heart. The guy who deflected and went for her sister. And now, he had the nerve to come here to see Susan, right in front of Nancy? Luke’s hands tightened at his sides.

“Wait here. I’ll be back,” he said stiffly. He turned and strode back to the house.

Chapter Thirteen

“Nancy?” Luke stood at the kitchen door, staring at her.

“Jah?” Nancy’s brow creased at the odd expression on his face. She wiped her hands on the dishtowel and set it on the counter. Susan snatched it up and hung it on its hook.

“Hello, Luke,” Susan said.

“Nancy, can you come here please?”

Nancy’s concern deepened. Why was Luke ignoring Susan? She stepped toward him. “What is it?”

“Something outside I want to show you.” Without another word, he turned and walked to the front door and went outside. She followed him.

“Luke? You’re acting strange. What’s wrong?” She hurried to catch up with his long stride.

When they were in the middle of the yard, he pointed to the road. “Over there. You’re needed.”

Nancy’s eyebrows scrunched into a frown. “I’m needed on the road? Is this another one of your jokes?”

But Luke didn’t look even the slightest bit amused. In fact, he had never looked so serious. And angry. Yes, that was it. He looked angry.

“Luke?”

“Just go out there.”

Nancy gave him another puzzled look and headed toward the road. When she got closer, she saw someone standing beneath a tree. What was going on? Luke wanted her to talk to someone on the road? She squinted, and her brow furrowed. She moved closer. The man held himself the same way Mark Lapp did. He had the same build, the same…

Nancy froze.

Mark Lapp? In Hollybrook?

Her feet wouldn’t work, and she stood there, gaping at him. He’d seen her, and he looked just as shocked. His face went deep red, and he fiddled with the edge of his sleeve. Nancy shuddered and forced herself to walk up to him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her mouth agape.

“Nancy?” He blew out his breath. “I told him that I wanted to see…” His face grew a deeper red, if that were even possible.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, completely confused. Why was he there? And why did he want to see her? Did he want her back?

Mark visibly swallowed and seemed to be having trouble breathing. Nancy’s heart raced, pulsing against her ribs. She was having trouble getting breath herself. She gazed into his brown eyes, remembering what he had meant to her. But then, she remembered their end. How he’d treated her, and a familiar ache swelled within her.

“I-I asked to see Susan,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“You … what?” She swiveled around, searching for Luke. What was this? Was Luke joking? Why would he do such a thing? Anger boiled up in her, and her fingernails curled into her palms. Luke was nowhere to be seen.

“I said Susan,” Mark stressed.

Nancy whirled back around to face him again. “You clearly asked for Susan?”

“I clearly did.”

She began to shake with a trembling that threatened to rattle her teeth. This was too much. What in the world was Luke thinking?

“But Nancy…” He reached toward her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She gaped at him. “You’re glad I’m here?”

“I never … well, I never apologized for, well, you know.” He gave her a guilt-ridden look.

Anger snapped through her. She hated men. Hated them!

“Jah, I know,” she said, her wrath taking over. “You never apologized for betraying me. You never apologized for sneaking around with my sister. My sister! You never apologized for being so cruel.”

Each word sliced the air, and she watched as they hit Mark like blows.

“Nancy, I-I…”

“You what?”

“I’m sorry.”

And she could see it then. His sorrow. It hung over him like a cloud. She inhaled sharply and put her arms over her stomach, as her inner trembling wracked her. She gulped in air and closed her eyes. She had waited for months to tell him off. And each day, her anger and hurt had grown. She’d tried every way she knew to get rid of it. She’d prayed. Truly, she had begged the Lord God to intervene on many occasions. Nothing had helped.

But now, now that she’d let it out, she was ashamed. What kind of Amish girl was she to be so harsh? So mean? What was wrong with her?

Mark faced her, a piteous look on his face.

Nancy blinked. She pressed her arms more tightly over her stomach. And then she realized that the shaking had stopped. She dropped her arms and took a slow drawn-out breath, as if testing how she felt. Testing her upset level.

She blinked again. Better. She felt better. The corners of her mouth lifted as total surprise and relief washed through her. She. Felt. Better.

“Nancy?”

“So, you want to see Susan?”

Mark’s shoulders slumped. “She ended it with me.”

“And you’ve come to ask her back?”

He bit on his lower lip before answering. “Jah.”

“I see.”

“She said she couldn’t do it anymore. Because of you.”

“So, she told me.” Nancy wanted to leave. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore. She didn’t want to be around him anymore. She didn’t like him anymore. “I’ll go get her.”

She turned away.

“Nancy?”

She paused.

“I am sorry.”

She shook her head and left, hurrying toward the house. She went inside, straight to the kitchen, where Susan was pouring batter into a cupcake tin.

“Mark’s here,” Nancy stated.

The mixing bowl slipped from Susan’s hands and landed on top of the cupcake tin, splashing batter over the table.

“He’s waiting for you on the road.”

Susan didn’t move. She gawked at Nancy.

Nancy pried the spatula out of Susan’s hand and picked up a dishtowel. She blotted the blobs of batter from Susan’s sleeve.

“Go on. He’s waiting for you.”

“I won’t see him. I told you, Nancy, it’s over.”

“Nee. It isn’t over at all. Go on out there.”

The pathetic look on Susan’s face twisted Nancy’s heart. She inhaled. “It’s all right now,” she said. “Go on. You belong together.”

Susan’s forehead crumpled, and she began to weep. “But … but I messed everything up. I hurt you…”

“Jah. You did. But as you can see, I survived. Now, go on.”

“Really?” Her thick yearning threatened to smother them both.

“Really.”

Susan started to rush from the room, but Nancy caught hold of her arm. “We’re going to be okay, now. You and me.”

Susan bit her lip, her tears still flowing. She nodded and ran from the house.

Nancy watched her go. A strange feeling of freedom tugged at her heart. She pulled her shoulders back and stood up straighter. Then she smiled. She looked down at the mess of batter on the table and began to put it right.

A few minutes later, Nancy heard footsteps. She glanced up to see Luke observing her from the kitchen doorway. He wore a wary expression.

“You knew he wanted Susan not me,” she said.

“I knew.”

“Then why did you fetch me?”

He stepped inside the kitchen. “Because he owed you some explanation. He owed you an apology.”

“And you thought that you would take charge and fix that?”

He flushed and didn’t answer for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was husky. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my business.”

He didn’t look contrite. Or sorry. In fact, he only looked tall and stubborn. His very presence filled the room. Nancy studied him. Why had he made it his business? Why?

“You’re not really sorry,” she whispered.

He took another step forward. He loomed so large and solid before her. He was bigger than life itself. “Nee. I’m not sorry.” His words were slow and sure.

He was close to her now. So close. She could almost feel his breath on her face. She licked her lips, feeling completely unnerved by him.

“Did he tell you that he was sorry?”

She nodded.

“Gut.” He smiled and then grew serious. “He’s not so great, you know.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his earnest expression. “I know.” She continued to gaze at him. “But still…”

He raised his left eyebrow and leaned closer. “You want to know why I did it.”

“Jah.” The word was soft.

He let out his breath. “Because it’s bothered me since you told me about him and Susan. It’s bothered me deeply.”

But why? Nancy’s forehead crinkled, but she didn’t flinch. Nor did she back away from his closeness.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she whispered.

“But it has everything to do with you,” he responded. “And I find myself caring about that a great deal.”

Her throat tightened, and she tried to swallow past its dryness. Her heart rate increased, and she felt a thin layer of sweat bead on her upper lip. She had no idea what to say to him. No idea at all. Everything in her wanted to close the gap between them. Everything in her wanted to walk straight into his arms. Her cheeks went hot, and she tried again to swallow.

He was watching her. His gaze roamed over her face and settled on her eyes. And then he nodded, his satisfaction plain. “I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

“Jah. I’m glad we got that cleared up.” Her voice shook, and she wondered just exactly what they’d cleared up.

Did he like her? Was that it? Her lower lip quivered as the truth of it settled deeply inside her heart.

His eyes were warm and intimate on hers. “I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder now. Just for a second. I don’t want you running off.”

Her chest constricted, but again, she didn’t back away. He reached out, and she felt his warm hand close over her shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze, and she felt it to her very bones. When he took his hand away, a feeling of loss flashed through her.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll be going outside now. Philip needs my help.”

“Luke?”

“Jah?”

“I’ll have cupcakes ready in twenty minutes or so. Would you … well, would you like one?”

He smiled then, and the sun came out, right in that very room.

“I want one. I’ll be back,” he whispered. He caressed her cheek with his fingers. And then, humming under his breath, he left the room.

The End

Continue Reading…

Thank you for reading Nancy’s Story Book One: The Mother’s Helper!

It’s now READY! Nancy’s Story Book Two, Losing Ariel!

Here’s a sample for you:

Nancy stood near the front door, her suitcase at her feet. Two-year-old Debbie hung onto her leg with blubbering tears dripping down her face. Nancy scooped her up and hugged her close.

“I’ll come back one day. I promise,” she said, near tears herself.

Her cousin Irene sat perched on the edge of the rocker, holding baby Zeke. “I can never thank you enough for being my mother’s helper,” she said to Nancy, smoothing Zeke’s fluffy hair with her palm. “You’ve been a wonderful gut helper. Debbie’s going to miss you. We all are.”

We all are…

Did that include Luke Rupp?

Nancy swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. She didn’t want to go back home. She didn’t. But her mother had begged her to return, saying that her father wanted to see her. He’d been unwell, and he wanted her home.

Home to Linnow Creek. For months, Linnow Creek had meant the place where her beau had betrayed her by taking up with her sister. Nancy had worked hard to forgive them both. She thought she’d been fairly successful, too, but that didn’t mean she wanted to return and be reminded of the painful situation over and over again.

While most of the Linnow Creek district hadn’t been aware of the courting between her and Mark, it was enough to make Nancy uncomfortable. She saw the pitying looks before she’d escaped to Hollybrook, and she was in no hurry to go back to them.

And then there was Luke. She inhaled sharply, remembering their last conversation the night before. She had been out on the porch, and he’d come around front from the daadi haus where he was now staying.

“So, it’s true,” he said. He stood tall on the bottom step, his eyes searching hers.

“It’s true,” she whispered.

He took the steps two at a time and sat beside her on the porch swing. She’d long before stopped fussing about how inappropriate it was for him to sit so close to her. Luke had spent a great deal of time with the Englisch before returning to Hollybrook, and it had influenced him—more than it should have.

His clear blue eyes were intense. “And you want to go?”

She shifted, and the swing creaked. “Nee.”

“Then, why go?”

“I came here to be a mother’s helper. Irene doesn’t really need me anymore. Truth is…” Nancy’s voice faded, and she looked down at her hands. “Truth is, she didn’t need me all that much in the first place. She was being kind. She knew how much I wanted to leave Linnow Creek.”

Luke touched her arm. “Then, why go back?”

“It’s time. And my dat wants me home.”

He looked at her a long time, so long that she began to fidget. She knew he would miss her. They’d become good friends. But more than that? She didn’t know. He had the perfect chance to say something to her at that moment. To declare himself in some way. She was nearly dizzy with the possibility of it, but he’d said nothing. His eyes just continued to stare into hers as if searching for something.

Thinking about it all again—the memory of that conversation with Luke—left Nancy bereft, out of sorts.

A muffled cry behind her startled her back to the present.

Irene jumped from her chair. “Take him!” she cried, thrusting Zeke into Nancy’s arms. “Quick!”

Irene slapped her hand over her mouth and ran from the room toward the bathroom down the hall. Her outburst startled little Debbie into silence, but set Zeke to wailing.

“There, there,” Nancy patted the baby’s back. “It’s all right. Mama just needed the bathroom.”

She frowned. Was Irene sick? And right when she was leaving Hollybrook and couldn’t help? She calmed Zeke and coaxed Debbie into the front room with her and the baby.

A couple minutes later, a pale Irene joined them. Nancy looked at her questioningly. “Irene? You sick?”

“That’s not how I’d phrase it…” She gave Nancy a sheepish look.

Nancy’s mouth fell open. “Nee… Really?”

Irene nodded with a sigh of resignation. “I know you have to go home now. You need to see your dat. But, I don’t know how I’m going to manage. You know my mamm ain’t well enough to help me…”

Nancy nodded her head, determination and relief filling her. “Don’t you worry, Irene. I’ll be back. I’ll help you through the rest of the nine months and beyond.”

Irene began to cry. “I never expected this… Not so soon…” Her voice softened, and she gave Nancy a smile. “But it’s gut news, jah? Ain’t it always gut news?”

Nancy returned her smile. “Jah. Gut news, indeed.” She worked to stifle the envy that crept up her throat.

Irene reached for Zeke, and Nancy gave him up.

“Your ride should be here soon,” Irene said. “Ach, I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll be back. I promise. Mamm and Dat will understand.”

Debbie puckered up again and started to cry. “Hush now,” Irene scolded her. “You heard Nancy. She’ll be back. Come on. Give your mamm a smile now.”

Nancy heard the side door of the house shut, and she looked up to see Luke walk in through the dining area. His eyes sought her out, and he smiled. “Is your ride here?”

“Not yet. Any minute, I’m thinking.”

“Maybe, he’ll be late.”

Nancy shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You go on out to the porch, Nancy. It’s a beautiful day, and we’ve said our good-byes.” Irene sat in a rocker, and little Debbie laid her head on her mother’s knees.

Nancy bit her bottom lip and fought back her tears. It was strange how Hollybrook now felt more like home to her than Linnow Creek, but it was true. Now that Irene was with child again and feeling poorly, she had the perfect excuse to come back. The real impact of it dawned on her like the morning sun. If she came back, she would be able to see Luke again.

She could see him every day, just like the past months.

“I’ll wait with you,” Luke said, going to the front screen and pushing it open. Nancy followed him outside.

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Greta and Isaac promise Isaac’s wife that they will marry each other upon her death. But when Betty dies, Isaac leaves the state. Greta is left in turmoil, harboring her secret love for Isaac. Having no choice, Greta moves on with her life and meets Todd Fisher. He brings laughter to her life and life holds promise again. Isaac returns, now, what will happen? Will Isaac expect her to carry out the promise? Or will he set them both free?

Greta’s Story #3: The Wedding

Greta gapes at her fiancé. Isaac doesn’t want an Amish wedding? Greta can’t help but wonder whether she’s doing the right thing to marry him. Todd Fisher watches closely as the wedding arrangements go forward. He knows the real reason behind Greta’s engagement, and he doesn’t approve. He loves her--does Isaac? Todd isn’t about to stand by and let the wedding happen without trying again.

Rhoda’s Story #1: The Amish Beekeeper!

People consider Rhoda Hilty an established spinster, which never bothered her—until Aaron Raber comes to town. When he approaches her to rent her beehives for his struggling orchard, Rhoda’s world turns upside down. But how can she be interested in him when she’s so busy caring for her aging senile mother? Besides … Aaron’s interest in her is strictly business. Isn’t it?

Rhoda’s Story #2: The Accident!

Rhoda Hilty struggles to keep her promise to her elderly mother. But when a tragic accident occurs, Rhoda is forced to break her promise. In addition, Rhoda has to care for her sister’s family as well as her mother. When will it be Rhoda’s turn? How will her handsome neighbor Aaron Raber ever see her as more than a spinster daughter and sister?

Rhoda’s Story #3: Coming Home!

Rhoda Hilty’s heart cries out as she watches her mother refuse food. Winnie is wasting away, and Rhoda feels helpless. And now Rhoda’s sweetheart, Aaron Raber, is gone. Writing letters to him is better than nothing, but Rhoda yearns for him. Aaron has promised that when he returns, they will court. But will he ever be free to come back to Hollybrook? It doesn’t appear so.

Faith’s Story #1: The Adoption!

Faith Baldwin’s birth mother is Amish and lives somewhere in Indiana, and she’s determined to find her. Pretending she’s a tourist, she digs around for clues. While there, she becomes enchanted with the Amish and their way of life. But things don’t go as smoothly as she hopes. Her boyfriend unexpectedly shows up; every lead goes dead; and the one old woman who might have answers for her won’t talk.

Faith’s Story #2: Changing Her Mind!

Her birth mother had written. With trembling hands, Faith Baldwin rips open the flap. Her eyes fly over the words until she finds the closing. Your mother, Nancy… Faith and her birth mother begin a correspondence that brings them both blissful joy. However, Nancy’s husband discovers her secret child, and his anger and sense of betrayal build an insurmountable wall between them. And if the truth is made public, how could Nancy explain a grown daughter to her children or her community?

Faith’s Story #3: Home at Last!

Faith Baldwin has her wish. She is sitting face-to-face with her Amish birth mother. As Faith struggles to fit in with her new Amish family, the hole in her heart begins to heal. But she yearns to truly belong, to truly be Amish. But that would mean closing down everything about her former life. It would mean starting over.

Mellie’s Story #1: Mellie’s Sweet Shop!

Mellie Fisher is in love with her sister’s beau. Striving to keep it a secret, she suffers in silence. When her sister makes a rash decision, Mellie prays that her chance with the handsome, kind Caleb Glick has finally come. But with her brother’s family moving into their already crowded house, and her mother’s illness creating chaos, Mellie worries that she will never have her chance at love. Will she forever be known as the single Amish girl who bakes sweets? Or is there something more for her?

Mellie’s Story #2: Leaving Hollybrook!

Beth Fisher spurns her steady beau to follow her dream of teaching. Leaving her family, she travels to Meadow Lark to become their new teacher. When school begins, it’s as wonderful as she expected. What she doesn’t expect, however, is to meet Timothy Plank, a widower with three children. She refuses to hear her heart where Timothy is concerned, and she rejects his love for her. But is teaching truly enough to fulfill her forever? Is she willing to give it up to find love?

Mellie’s Story #3: The Fire!

Mellie Fisher is weary of pining over her sister’s former beau. How long must she wait for his affection? Despairing, she agrees to be courted by Obadiah Westman. But things don’t go as planned, and she quickly regrets her decision. Her mother’s catastrophic fall, a disaster at her Sweet Shop, and her sister-in-law’s accident all conspire to derail Mellie’s happiness and plans for the future. How can it ever be good again? And will she ever gain Caleb’s love?

Naomi’s Story #1: Byler’s Bed and Breakfast!

Still reeling from her husband’s death, Naomi Byler struggles to support herself and her two children. A chance meeting with a handsome Englischer gives her the opportunity to open a Bed and Breakfast. Naomi meets resistance from Zachariah King, the young Amish farmer who leases her land. Is Zachariah interested in her? And if he is, why doesn’t he say anything? And is the handsome Englischer wanting more than room and board? Are the two men now in competition?

Naomi’s Story #2: The Englischer Stayed Twice!

The widow Naomi Byler struggles to forget the handsome Englischer who stayed at her Bed and Breakfast. With time, his effect on her fades, and life resumes. Naomi’s relationship with Zach King grows as Naomi’s grief over her husband’s death heals. But when the Englischer suddenly returns with a gift, disruption reigns. Naomi is thrown into a tailspin, and Zach is at first angry then grows distant. Is Naomi about to lose her hard-won peace? Is she about to enter a place where there’s no hope of forgiveness?

Naomi’s Story #3: Naomi’s Choice!

The Englischer is gone. While Naomi mourns his leaving, she hopes that Zach King will now declare his feelings for her. But Zach remains painfully quiet. When Naomi’s brother comes to Hollybrook and insists that she and her children move back to Pennsylvania, she panics. Not wanting to leave her Bed and Breakfast, her friends, or Zach, she makes one final last-ditch effort. But will it have any effect at all? Or will she have to leave everything she’s worked so hard to build?

Annie’s Story #1: The Forbidden Baby!

Not wanting to burden others, Annie Braus works to maintain a pleasant attitude. But lurking beneath, she harbors deep sorrow. Wondering if things will ever change, she fights against feelings of anger toward God. When her sister dives off the deep end during rumspringa and ends up in serious trouble, Annie wonders whether this might be God’s answer for her. But how can her sister’s mistake become Annie’s blessing? And will Annie’s husband go along with her father’s daring plan?

Annie’s Story #2: Escaping Acre’s Corner!

Refusing to give in to her father’s plan, Sarah Clapper plots her escape carefully. Her Englisch boyfriend joins her, whisking her away from her cousin’s Amish home. Sarah thought marriage would solve her problem, but it only makes things worse. She is stunned to find herself yearning for home. Her Amish home. But certain things in life that cannot be reversed. Has Sarah trapped herself? Is there any way for her to get out of the mess she’s made?

Annie’s Story #3: Sarah’s Return!

Annie Braus goes numb with relief when her pregnant runaway sister returns. But when Sarah reveals that she secretly married an Englisch boy, Annie fears the worst.

Now how can she and Amos claim Sarah’s baby as their own? And if Sarah is married, where is her husband? Annie struggles to take care of her sister, through a harrowing late-night scare, an unwelcome visitor, and a shocking revelation of her own.

Josie’s Story #1: The Schoolteacher’s Baby

All John Beiler wants is to escape his grief. He bundles up his baby daughter and flees to Hollybrook. With a numb heart, he engages Josie Bontrager to care for his baby. When he starts to fall for Josie, he resists. How can he risk loving again? And wouldn’t it dishonor his deceased wife to have feelings for another?

Josie’s Story #2: A Desperate Act!

Secret meetings behind closed doors. Furtive looks. Strange, unexplained behavior. What is John Beiler involved in? Josie is desperate to find out, but her beau remains stubbornly silent. Does it have anything to do with Amanda Crabill and her son?

Sally’s Story #1: The Decision

For Sally, leaving the Amish would mean leaving Zeke. Can she ignore her feelings for him and turn her back on her dreams? And all for a brother who doesn’t want her around?

Sally’s Story #2: Second Thoughts

“It wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work. We are from two different worlds, you and me.” Zeke gazed at her, his eyes filled with infinite sadness.

Sally won’t give up. But will she burn all the bridges she’s worked so hard to build?

Sally’s Story #3: The Stranger

Who is this stranger? And does he have the legal right to take her away as he claims? How can Sally convince the stranger to let her go? And how will she ever get back to Zeke?

Amish Days 1: Missing Abram

Are Hope’s dreams of Abram only a fantasy? Will his cousin Josiah try to step in?

Amish Days 2: Abram’s Plan

Mysterious relatives force Hope to leave her Amish home. While gone, her fiancé Abram is hurt. Will he heal? Can she ever go back?

Amish Days 3: Abram’s Bride

Why is Abram refusing to marry Hope? Hadn’t he promised her a November wedding? Was she to be a jilted bride?

Amish Days: The Runaway!

Caught in a cocoon of cold and desperation, will Mary admit her feelings for Josiah? Will Josiah confirm Mary’s suspicions that it’s really her sister that he loves?

Amish Days: A Loving Stranger

After a full year of professing his love, Ezra Ebersol dumps Sadie and becomes engaged to another girl. Sadie reels with her pain and confusion for weeks. Hiding out, she encounters a stranger. She tries to evade him, but newcomer Joshua Graber isn’t so easily dissuaded. When Sadie discovers the reason for her broken relationship with Ezra, her eyes are opened. Was Joshua sent to help her heal? Or is he just another person who can’t be trusted?

Marian’s Story #1: The Amish Blogger

Marian Yoder befriends an Englisch girl—never dreaming it will lead her to a blog of her own. Nor that it would catch the eye of the handsome Englisch guy, Roger Young. Marian gets sucked into their exciting world. But her mother’s frightening behavior brings turmoil and danger. When Thomas Groft turns his eye toward Marian, she’s caught in the middle.

Marian’s Story #2: Missing Mama

Marian Yoder can’t wait to marry Thomas Groft. But when her mother is admitted to a sanitarium, Marian is forced to become caretaker to her baby sister. Marian can’t leave her father or baby sister to marry Thomas. When she learns her mother has run away, her faith is tested to the near breaking point. Will there ever be a way for Marian to marry Thomas?

Marian’s Story #3: The Big Freeze

Marian marries her sweetheart and dreams of a loving future. But reality steps in to destroy her vision. Her mother-in-law’s resentment threatens to poison the very love Marian holds for her new husband. When Marian discovers the shocking reason behind her mother-in-law’s nasty treatment, she’s horrified. Tragedy strikes, and the whole family is plunged into fear and turmoil. Marian has the chance to save the day, but will it do any good?

www.brendamaxfield.com

About the Author

My passion is writing! What could be more delicious than inventing new characters and seeing where they take you?

I am blessed to live in Indiana, a state I share with many Amish communities. (I find the best spices, hot cereal, and good cooking advice at an Amish store not too far away.)

I've lived in Honduras, Grand Cayman, and Costa Rica. One of my favorite activities is exploring other cultures. My husband, Paul, and I have two grown children and four precious grandchildren, three, special delivery from Africa and one, homegrown. I love to hole up in our lake cabin and write -- often with a batch of popcorn nearby. (Oh, and did I mention dark chocolate?)

I enjoy getting to know my readers, so feel free to write me at: contact@brendamaxfield.com. Join my Newsletter Gang and get the latest news about releases: brendamaxfield.com/newreleasenotice.html. Visit me to learn about all my books: brendamaxfield.com Happy Reading!

www.brendamaxfield.com

contact@brendamaxfield

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