The Amish Widower's Twins and the Amish Bachelor's Choice

by Jo Ann Brown

Leanna took a leaf away from Heidi before the little girl put it in her mouth. Heidi tried to put everything in her mouth while Harley was more intent in trying to figure out how their toys could be taken apart. He’d been tearing leaves into tiny pieces, and their clothes and hair were littered in red and gold that glittered in the last light of the day. The sun set earlier with each passing day as summer faded into fall.

  Today would always be one Leanna remembered with a warm glow because today was the day she and Gabriel had spoken their vows as husband and wife in front of the community. In the morning, the four of them would be leaving to visit relatives in Lancaster County.

  “I think the kinder will enjoy riding on the train to Pennsylvania,” Gabriel said as he reached down to brush some leaf bits out of his son’s hair.

  “Entertaining them for eight hours will be a challenge.”

  “Bring plenty of cookies and books for them to color in.” He chuckled. He did that more and more, and she savored each laugh. “Assuming they don’t try to eat the crayons again.”

  “Last time they drew on each other’s faces and hands.”

  “As they did with icing from the wedding cake?” He laced his fingers through hers as they walked together. “It was a wunderbaar wedding dinner.”

  “Between Annie’s cooking and Caleb’s baking skills, there couldn’t be any complaints.”

  “Your friends seemed to find a lot of the day funny.”

  She hesitated, then realized she needed to be as forthcoming with him as he’d been with her the day of the two heart surgeries. “They were celebrating because the members of our older girls’ club aren’t eligible for it any longer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we called it the Harmony Creek Spinsters Club.”

  “Spinsters Club?” He laughed and slid his arm around her waist. “You’re going to have to pass that title on to other women.”

  “No, it’s better to retire the name. Let others come up with a name for their groups of friends.”

  “Or we could have the Harmony Creek Bachelors Club now that Michael is spending so much time with Benjamin and Menno Kuhns.”

  “I don’t think they’d appreciate being called that.”

  “Which makes it all the more fun to use.” He chuckled, a sound she knew she’d never tire of hearing.

  “I’m glad you told Michael about Freda.”

  He grew serious. “I am, too. What amazes me is that he wasn’t surprised. He said he knew there had to be some overpowering reason why I didn’t marry you in the first place.”

  “Our siblings know more than we give them credit for.” She paused in the road. “Here we are.”

  “At Eli and Miriam’s house? Why are we here?”

  “You’ll see.” She took the handle of the wagon from him. “Komm mol.”

  Leanna led the way to the barn beyond the house. She smiled and waved to Miriam, who stood beside Eli’s nephew, Kyle. The boy, who’d sprouted up several inches over the summer, was grinning.

  “Are you ready to see them?” Kyle asked.

  Enjoying Gabriel’s puzzled expression, she followed Kyle into the barn and to a corner where a blanket peeked over the edge of a large wooden box. She looked in and asked, “Which one?”

  “This one.” The boy lifted out a black-and-white puppy and handed it to Leanna.

  She carried it to Gabriel. “I know she’ll never be the dog that you had to give up when you were a boy, but I thought she’d make a gut wedding gift for you.”

  “She’s the perfect gift,” he said, his voice breaking. “I only told you that story once, but you remembered.”

  Touched by his reaction, she hurried to say, “She’s too young yet to leave her mamm, but by the time we return from visiting family and friends, she’ll be ready to join our family. Harley and Heidi are going to love her.”

  Gabriel took the puppy from her and knelt by the wagon. The adoration between the twins and the little puppy was instantaneous, and Leanna didn’t know which one wiggled more in excitement as the bopplin reached out to pet the puppy’s silken fur. Both twins began to giggle with excitement, and the puppy’s tail wagged so hard it was a blur.

  Blinking abrupt tears, Leanna sent up a prayer of thanks that Harley could laugh and not lose his breath. In the four months since his surgery, strength had flowed through the little boy as his heart pumped life along his veins.

  The bopplin and the puppy protested when Gabriel stood.

  “How about you, Leanna?” He handed the pup to Kyle. As the boy set her in the box, Gabriel said, “You’re the one who’ll have to train her and clean up her puddles until she’s housebroken.”

  “Puddles! That’s a cute name.”

  “I hope you’ll think so after a couple of weeks of having three bopplin—two human and one puppy—in the house along with having to take care of your goats.”

  “I know I’m going to love everything about our home together.”

  Not caring that Miriam and Kyle were standing on the other side of the wagon, because, after all, it was her wedding day, Leanna gave her husband a swift kiss. She started to step away, but his arm around her kept her close.

  “If you’ll excuse us a minute, Miriam,” he said with a wink, “my wife and I have some lost time we need to make up for.”

  “You may need more than a minute.” Miriam laughed and motioned to her nephew to come with her. They walked out of the barn.

  “She’s right,” he said as he bent toward Leanna again. “We’re going to need a lifetime.”

  “Starting now?”

  He answered her with a sweet kiss, and she knew she would love every moment of the rest of their lives together. Some things, she’d learned, were worth the wait.

  * * *

  The Amish Bachelor’s Choice

  Jocelyn McClay

  First, I thank God for this amazing opportunity. Thanks always to my wonderfully supportive husband, Kevin. Thanks also to my beta readers, particularly Alyson, who noted to the Iowa crew that my interest in romance novels was more than just a way of avoiding doing dishes years ago. But this is for you, Genna. I couldn’t have done it without you. May there be many more to come.

  For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

  —Jeremiah 29:11

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “I wonder if the new owner will change the name? It’d be strange to have it no longer be Fisher Furniture.” Jacob’s words were barely audible over the humming of the lathe.

  The blood drained from Ruth Fisher’s face. She hadn’t considered that possibility. Oh, Daed, if missing you wasn’t enough, how can I bear to see your name removed from the business you built? The end of her nose prickled as she swallowed against the lump in her throat.

  Widening her eyes against threatening tears, Ruth willed her coworker not to look up from his focus on the spinning chair leg until she eliminated any trace of the effect his words had had on her. She glanced around the workshop to ensure the few others working in the extensive room weren’t paying attention, before tipping her head back and blinking any telltale traces away. No one would see her cry.

  The others understood her grie
f. Friends and neighbors as well as employees of her father’s furniture business had helped her through his difficult passing and funeral. But they were moving on. When Ruth moved on, it would be away from her daed’s legacy. She’d made a promise. She swallowed again, this time against a flash of nausea at the reminder of her recent resolution. It took pinching the skin between her thumb and forefinger to stop any renegade tears. But when Jacob looked up, he was met with clear eyes behind her safety glasses.

  “Ach, Ruth, I—I thought you were Isaac,” he stammered, his face flushing to match his red hair.

  “He was busy, so I brought the chisels over.” She set them on the bench beside him.

  “I—I... It was on my mind as they moved in this weekend.”

  Ruth didn’t have to ask who “they” were. Jacob’s family farm was a mile from the Yoder farmstead, empty since Atlee died last winter. Empty until the new owner of Fisher Furniture had bought it.

  “My daed and brothers stopped by to see if they needed any help. Mamm and Lydia took a basket of bread and canned goods.” Jacob was obviously excited at the prospect of new neighbors. “Lydia was glad to see that none of the three newcomers had beards.”

  Ruth could just imagine. If none of the men had beards, then they were all single. Jacob’s sister was in her rumspringa. Potential courtship and future mates were much on a young woman’s mind during her run-around years. Particularly a girl like Lydia.

  “Hopefully they are good workers, beardless or no.” Ruth had different priorities. Even though she’d no longer be part of the business, she wanted to see it succeed. “How are the chairs coming for the Portage order?” They had recently entered into business with a furniture dealer in one of the larger towns nearby.

  Jacob’s eyes lit up. “Gut. I like this design. Hopefully it sells well.”

  “Ja, hopefully,” she echoed, forcing a smile to her face before turning to head for her own workbench.

  Once there, Ruth selected a piece of oak from the neat stack on the scarred wooden surface and picked up a sanding block. She’d hoped for a number of things. She’d even had the hochmut to pray that someone in the district would purchase the business. The glasses slipped down her nose when she winced at the memory that she’d had the arrogance to tell Gott what to do. It wouldn’t happen again. Ruth wrinkled her nose in an effort to push the glasses back up. Well, it shouldn’t happen again. One of the tenets of their faith was demut. There was certainly no humility in daring to give Gott instructions. Thankfully, Gott was forgiving as well as good. He had a plan for her. But apparently it didn’t include having someone she knew buy Fisher Furniture and letting her manage it. This Malachi Schrock had certainly wasted no time in taking over her daed’s business.

  Her shoulders slumped as she ran the block over the oak. No single young woman in their district owned a business that employed four men, married and single. The bishop wasn’t going to allow Ruth to be the first, even though she’d worked beside her father from the time she was tall enough to reach a workbench.

  Or not tall enough, Ruth remembered with a tremulous smile. Daed had built her a little wooden box to stand on. First, so she could watch him work, her eyes wide with wonder at his deft movements. Then so she could mimic his actions and learn to love the wood, from its first rough surfaces to the feel of it beneath her fingers, soft as a baby’s cheek after multiple cycles of sanding and varnish.

  The sale of the business had been the topic of several conversations after church service two weeks ago. While gossiping was frowned upon in the Amish community, sharing of news was another thing entirely. At least three groups of folks Ruth had passed as she poured coffee for the noon meal had been discussing Miriam Lapp’s nephew from Ohio, who’d purchased the business and would soon be moving into the area, along with two of his younger brothers.

  Ruth was chagrined to discover, when she overheard people talking after church yesterday, that her life continued to be a subject of interest. This time, the discussion among the women, and probably some of the single men, was when she’d marry, now that her father was gone and the business sold. A few speculative glances had been cast her way when certain names were mentioned, gauging her reaction.

  Ruth had made sure her normally expressive face revealed nothing.

  Jacob’s name was one mentioned with a side-glance yesterday. Ruth’s lips twitched. According to her newly married friends, finding it hard to breathe around a man was a sign he might be Gott’s Chosen One for her. She had no difficulty breathing around Jacob, whom she’d known since back when she could wear buttons. He was nothing more than a casual friend, and the only time he made her heart beat harder was when she observed and appreciated his skill on the lathe. The women of the district could speculate all they want, but she wouldn’t be walking out with Jacob Troyer.

  Her smile faded. She wouldn’t be walking out with any Amish man now that she was leaving the community as she’d promised her daed.

  Ruth grabbed a tack cloth and swiped it across the oak’s surface, surprised she hadn’t worn a hole in the wood. She stroked a thumb along the grain. Today, not even working with the wood brought her the peace and joy it normally did.

  But peace required gelassenheit. Submission didn’t come naturally to Ruth. Sometimes it didn’t come at all. Putting down the cloth, she picked up the sanding block and deftly applied it. Inhaling deeply, she relished the aroma of fresh lumber inherent to the room. Gelassenheit. Bits of sawdust danced in the air as she exhaled slowly through pursed lips, trying to clear her mind to Gott’s will.

  So the new owner had arrived in Miller’s Creek with his two brothers. Ruth’s hand paused, her eyes resting on the other occupants of the room. Her heart beat heavily as she wondered what the addition of three more men would mean for her father’s loyal employees. The strokes across the wood resumed with jerky motions.

  Ruth didn’t know what she needed to do, but she was determined that the men would keep their jobs. Dropping the block on the counter, Ruth folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head. She would pray and accept Gott’s will for her fellow workers and herself. Ruth squeezed her eyes shut. Hopefully His will would journey the same road as her plans.

  * * *

  The horse flicked his ear back toward the buggy, probably wondering if he was going to get down now that they’d arrived at their destination. Malachi figured the gelding was glad to be hanging its head over the hitching post. He frowned at the foam-flecked brown neck. Experienced with horses, he knew the animals could feel the tension of the driver through the reins. The poor bay had completed a trip full of nervousness running down the lines. No wonder his coat reflected his agitation. Malachi resolved to keep this visit short or find a place where he could stable the standardbred. It was warm for November, but he wouldn’t leave a hot horse for long out in it.

  Sighing, he set the brake and stepped down from the buggy. As he passed the gelding, he paused to stroke the horse’s sleek, sweaty neck. It wasn’t the bay’s fault. He was fine for a rented animal. Malachi ran a hand down the iron-hard leg to where the brown coat turned to black, smiling when the gelding responded by lifting his hoof.

  In fact, he might buy the bay. He and his brothers would need several buggy horses. Samuel would be replacing his courting buggy as soon as they settled in, probably before. Gideon, as well. Malachi shook his head at the thought. His brothers had grown faster than the passing years justified.

  His smile faded as he straightened to regard the building in front of him. At least the horse was something he could try out before purchasing. Unlike the small farmstead he’d bought sight unseen. Or the business before him, which he was now owner of. Another deep sigh lifted the suspenders that crossed his shoulders.

  He wasn’t impulsive. Far from it. Malachi knew himself to be like Barley, one of his father’s draft horses back in Ohio. A plodder. Barley hadn’t moved fast, but his steady and deliberate pac
e had plowed, planted and harvested many fields. The seed that’d culminated in Malachi’s move to Wisconsin had germinated long ago. Things had been getting difficult back in Ohio. Malachi was surprised he’d survived there this long. Some type of change had been needed. He’d prayed that Gott would provide him with direction. When he’d heard of this opportunity, he’d snatched it up like a horse snapping at an insect during blackfly season.

  Hopefully this’d been Gott’s answer. Once he’d settled on his course, Malachi hadn’t paused in his plodding forward long enough to check.

  The furniture shop was a good investment. He’d reviewed numbers available on the operation before he’d made the offer. It was a well-run business and Malachi was excited to be part of it. But it was a big change. He wasn’t fond of changes. This purchase had prompted several of them in his life. Walking through that door would hopefully wrap up the last and biggest one.

  After giving the bay a final rub on the forehead, he headed up the stairs. A cheery jingle greeted him when he swung the door open. Malachi’s tense shoulders eased slightly as he inhaled the familiar scents of wood and stain. His lips curved. This was what he knew and loved. It would be all right.

  An encompassing glance revealed a well-ordered showroom. His experienced eye recognized the diverse furniture’s primary wood as oak, with a few pieces of cherry, maple and walnut. Stepping farther into the airy room, he ran a hand over the back of a chair that tucked into a large dining table. Malachi nodded in approval at the smooth surface. He straightened abruptly and turned to the back of the store when he heard the sound of a door opening.

  An Amish woman stepped through, a ready smile on her face. Her auburn hair was tucked under her kapp, a few strands threatening to escape the confines. She headed in his direction before halting abruptly. Reaching up, she touched the safety glasses on her face, hastily pulled them off and set them on the sales counter. With flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile, she turned back to him.