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

by Jo Ann Brown

  A light, visible in the darkness that cloaked the rural landscape, was bobbing along the road toward her. It turned into the lane when Ruth was halfway down. In the moonlight reflected on the snow, she could see a black-and-white bundle leap from a black-cloaked figure and race the short distance toward her. Excited yips accompanied each stride.

  Hurrying forward to sweep Rascal up into her arms, Ruth laughed as he licked the traces of tears from her face. “Yes! I’m very glad to see you, as well. Although you gave me quite a fright.”

  “Ach, we’ll apologize for that.” Ruth identified the black-cloaked forms as the neighbor girls. “He showed up at our place late this afternoon. We didn’t know how he got out. We figured he’d find the same way again if we left him, so we waited until you got home to bring him over,” Mary, the older of the two sisters, explained. “We thought we’d see a buggy come up the lane, but it wasn’t until the car lights flashed as they turned that we knew you’d come home that way.” Emma, the younger sister, nodded as she reached out to give the pup’s back a long stroke.

  Ruth rested her cheek against Rascal’s warm head. “It’s fine. I’m just glad he’s safe. And you are right. He dug a hole under the fence and escaped.” She waved the girls farewell and watched as they made their way back down the lane and road to their nearby farmstead.

  Much as she wanted to continue hugging him to her, Ruth set the puppy, who was now squirming, down. She turned to head up the lane. “Oh, Rascal. I was so afraid. But you also helped me realize something. Something I needed to determine a long time ago. I knew it, but I didn’t live it. You and me, we may think we’re independent, maybe even alone, but we’re not. Gott has always been with us. Even though I might attempt to grab the reins from Him occasionally, I’m going to try to let Him drive.”

  Ruth inhaled a deep breath of the crisp night air. “Especially over the roads we’ll travel for the next while. In the meantime—” Ruth opened the door to the kitchen and the puppy bounded through “—we’ll take care of Bess, and after that we have a lot of cookies to make before tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Ruth waved Hannah off as her friend drove the pony cart back down the lane. Over Ruth’s objections, Hannah had insisted on giving her a ride home after the cookie exchange. Although she attended church every other Sunday, Ruth forgot how wonderful it was to fellowship with her neighbors in the Amish community. Or maybe it was just her new outlook that made her so joyful. Perhaps the fact that her time with them was short had made the outing so precious. Whatever it was, she’d lingered and visited until Hannah proclaimed it was too late for Ruth to walk back and requested that her brother prepare the pony and cart.

  A basket of cookies weighed heavy on her arm as she turned away from the lane. The smile that curved her lips faltered as she realized no miniature barking had greeted neither her nor the unfamiliar cart. A rapid glance revealed an empty chicken run. The basket almost dropped to the snow when she saw that the gate was open. Ruth’s heart began to pound. Had Rascal gotten loose again? Or had Mary and Emma come and gotten the puppy? She didn’t mind the girls playing with the pup, but she wished they’d mentioned it when they left the exchange earlier this afternoon. Ruth’s eyes flew to the road in the gathering darkness to see if a light was bobbing its way in her direction.

  Frantically, she rushed to the house to get the flashlight and begin a search, only slowing when she saw a glow from the kitchen window. She, like other Amish folks, never locked their homes. It could be anyone in the house. Ruth’s heart rate accelerated further. No one but Hannah, who’d just left, had visited her lately. The doorknob in the chilly Wisconsin twilight was frigid in Ruth’s sweaty hand. Before she pushed open the kitchen door, she looked back over her shoulder to confirm there wasn’t a rig in the shadowed farmyard. There’d been little fresh snow since Bess went lame, so the tracks that crisscrossed the ground leading to the barn could be hers, or someone who’d brought her home. Whoever was in the house could have put their horse and buggy in the barn. But why? Brows furrowed, Ruth hesitantly opened the door.

  The glow from the fireplace and an oil lamp on the counter outlined a figure sitting in a chair. Only a quick grab saved the basket from sliding down Ruth’s arm and onto the floor. Dazedly, she set it on the counter with a soft thud. Rascal, seated on the lap in the chair, launched himself off and scurried to greet her.

  Ruth crouched to the puppy that danced about her feet, gathered him in her arms and rose before meeting a gaze that regarded her warily.

  “I am so glad to see you,” she murmured to Rascal as she rubbed his ears. “I was so afraid when I thought you might be gone again.” The room was quiet after her whisper, the only sounds the occasional pop in the cheerily burning fireplace.

  “I was feeling the same way.” Malachi’s low baritone finally broke the silence. “I didn’t know if you’d gone to Madison after all.”

  Ruth’s heart beat faster than the little one whose rapid patter she could feel clutched against her chest. She tucked the comforting silky head under her chin and met Malachi’s gaze. The pup squirmed when trapped between the deep breath she inhaled and her tight grip. “It was a gut day today. I didn’t want to leave.”

  “Then why are you?” His voice was equally quiet.

  Needing a moment, she placed Rascal on the floor. He shook himself before trotting over to lie down in front of the fireplace. Ruth wished she could shake things off so easily. She lifted her eyes again to his steady blue gaze. “I can’t stay in Miller’s Creek if you’re not free.” She forced a swallow. “Are you?”

  Malachi didn’t answer for a few endless heartbeats. “No, I’m not,” he finally responded without breaking eye contact.

  It was what she feared and expected. She propped an elbow on the counter to keep from sagging against it. When she thought she could speak, Ruth murmured, “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I came to offer you something.” In an easy movement, he rose from the chair he was in. Her eyes only for him, Ruth hadn’t noticed it. Still gliding smoothly after his abrupt departure was the red oak rocking chair started by her father, a man she’d loved dearly. And now it sat where she envisioned it by the fire, finished by the man she loved more than she could’ve imagined.

  “Oh, Malachi,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.” On trembling legs, Ruth moved to the chair and ran her fingers across the satiny back. Her eyes drifted shut, imagining for a moment the smooth surface she was stroking was his cheek. She would treasure the piece as she did the ones her daed had made. More so, as it had been made by both men.

  She opened her eyes when he spoke. “That’s gut to hear, but that’s not all I’m offering.” Malachi faced her, the chair between them. A faint smile touched his lips, but his eyes were still apprehensive.

  “What I’m offering is my heart, Ruth. It goes with the chair.” He smiled, creating a dimple in his lean cheek. “It went before the chair actually. It went when a stubborn woman came along with the furniture business I acquired.” He sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “So you see, I am not free. I belong to you.”

  Ruth’s grip left the back of the chair. She found herself clasping his strong, calloused, wonderful hands. “But what about Leah? She’s perfect.”

  Malachi snorted softly. “Leah helped me learn a lot about what I wanted in a woman. And what I didn’t. I didn’t want perfect.”

  Ruth grinned. “You realize what that says about me.”

  Malachi smiled and squeezed her fingers gently, not letting her go. “I wanted perfect for me. A woman with a talent for managing and for working with wood. And for making me happier than I’d ever imagined I’d be. I know you’re who Gott has chosen for me. He brought me here to Wisconsin in order to find you.” The smile faded a bit when he added, “I’m only hoping that I’m enough for you.”

  He searched her eyes. When she didn�
�t speak, he continued, “I know you have other options. I know you’re capable of succeeding in them. I know that staying in the Plain life would limit what you want for yourself. But I allowed myself to hope.”

  His lips curved slightly. “When wanting to grow a crop worth harvesting or a furniture piece worth making, some preparations have to be made. The groundwork needs to be laid. I figured this was similar. I contacted the bishop regarding permission to set up one of the outbuildings with woodworking equipment, in case someone would consider marrying me. I’d set it up, so when kinder arrive, they’d have a safe place to play as well, while their mamm makes furniture, if she’d want to.”

  Ruth stared at him in surprise.

  “And I’ve found I need to learn more about the business part of ownership. I was never much of a reader.” He wrinkled his nose. “Even before I left school, my mind was already on physical work. I learn better by hearing and doing. So if I had a wife who wanted to study and learn—” he flicked his eyes toward paperwork still stacked on the kitchen table “—then maybe teach me, interspersed with a few sweet words, it might be a good thing.”

  Ruth skirted the rocker so nothing was between them. “I could do that. Most of it anyway.” Her lips quirked. “Who’s going to say the sweet words?”

  “How about if I start out with this? Will you marry me, Ruth?” When she drew back and her eyes grew wide, Malachi continued, “I know you can take care of yourself. But for the few occasions that you might want to lean on someone, I want it to be me.”

  He let go of one of her hands long enough to dab at a tear that leaked from her eye. “It devastates me when you cry,” he murmured.

  Ruth sniffed. “Oh, Malachi! The first day you walked into the shop, I reminded myself that Gott had a plan for me. Foolish me, I tried to make His path fit mine, thinking I knew what I needed to be happy. But He knew me and, of course, knew better. His plan is so much more than I could’ve ever imagined. Nothing I could ever find in wood or on paper would bring me the joy of being in your arms.”

  A smile spread across Malachi’s face. He pulled her into his warm embrace. “Well, then. Come here.”

  Resting her head on his strong shoulder, Ruth whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “There’s an Amish proverb that says to choose your love and love your choice.” She nestled deeper into his arms. It felt like home. It felt like everything she’d ever wanted. “I choose you, Malachi.”

  Epilogue

  “Ach,” Malachi stepped through the door and quickly strode to where Ruth stood on a ladder. “You’re supposed to making sure she behaves herself, Samuel.”

  Turning from where he was building a bench against the wall, Samuel shot Ruth a grin and a wink. “That’s your responsibility, bruder. You’re the one who chose such a stubborn, complicated wife in the first place. It’s taught me to make sure I choose a biddable woman when I marry.”

  “That would be your loss. I couldn’t imagine anyone else.” Malachi carefully lifted Ruth down. As he set her on the ground, their mutual smiles lingered and his hand gently brushed over her burgeoning stomach before taking the screwdriver from her hand.

  Malachi turned his attention to the sloped ceiling. “Come over here and help me with this. Might as well get a little more work out of you before your new horse acquisition business has you forgetting all your woodworking skills.”

  “You’ll miss me. I might even miss you.” Samuel crossed to his bruder and climbed the ladder. “But you know horses were always my first love.”

  Malachi handed him the screwdriver. “I know. But you’ll always have a place here if you need it.”

  Now relegated to the floor, Ruth watched Malachi and Samuel work on the skylight. As promised, Malachi was converting the hog house, its occupants long gone, into a workshop. Glancing around at the renovations, Ruth inhaled deeply, relishing the fresh lumber smell that permeated the airy room. She couldn’t imagine being any happier. Everything was set up with safety and efficiency in mind for when she’d work out here.

  And she would. But not as much as she’d thought. And that was okay. It was here when she wanted or needed it. For as much as she’d wanted and needed the woodworking, she wanted and needed her Amish husband more. Who’d have ever dreamed she’d have both?

  Her lips curved as she listened to the brothers bantering as they worked. Malachi looked over at her and smiled. Ruth’s heart swelled as she rested her hand on her slightly rounded stomach. A loving husband, a bobbeli, a close extended family, work she loved. The words of Jeremiah ran through her mind. 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.

  Tears prickled in the back of Ruth’s eyes, ones born of wonder. Who could have expected this marvelous end for her?

  Only Gott.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from An Amish Winter by Vannetta Chapman.

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  An Amish Winter

  by Vannetta Chapman

  Chapter One

  Snow fell heavily as Elijah King directed his horse toward the center of Shipshewana. The streets were virtually empty of buggies and cars. Most sensible folks were already tucked in for the night. Elijah had been out on a job on the west side of town. As usual he was late returning home. Since he was a bachelor, that wasn’t exactly a problem.

  Thirty-two years old and still a bachelor.

  That all changes this year.

  He’d made a promise to himself that he would start a family in the next twelve months. Since that usually started with choosing a fraa, he was determined to keep his eyes open for any eligible woman. Not as easy as one might think. All the women his age were already married, and the ones who were younger than him... Well, he could remember pulling their kapp strings in school. He had a hard time thinking of these younger women in a romantic way. He’d teased most of them with frogs. They were kinner when he was in his last year of school.

  He expected his bride-to-be would be a brand-new acquaintance. New women did move to town occasionally—usually to marry but sometimes because of family situations. Shipshewana itself was a small community located in northern Indiana, but the Plain community was thriving. Gotte could send a bride to him from the far reaches of their country. In fact, he was convinced this was the plan the good Lord had for him. All he needed to do was stay alert and be open to fostering a new relationship.

  The snow continued to fall fast and heavy.

  Boots tossed his head as they turned onto Main Street. The gelding was ready to be home, and Elijah couldn’t blame him. “A warm stall and bucket of oats are waiting for you, Boots.”

  The horse again tossed his head. He had more personality than any buggy horse Elijah had ever owned, and he’d owned a few. He was thinking of that, thinking of the horse and how difficult it had been to train the gelding to the buggy, when a splash of color caught his eye.

  He automatically pulled lightly on Boots’s reins, slowing the horse.

  A woman wearing a blue coat was standing outside the bus station. Snow swirled around her, reminding Elijah of a snow globe his mother kept on her dresser. The stranger stood with her back to him, but he could tell from her bonnet that she was Plain. She seemed to be transfixed by the sight of the bus that was pulling away.

  And in that moment, Elijah knew that this was the woman Gotte had promised him. It was ridiculous, sure. He hadn’t met her, didn’t know a thing about her, but the feeling that their meeting was preordained persisted. Perhaps it was because of the way she appeared as if out of a dream.

  Of course, she co
uld be married.

  Or promised to another.

  On the other hand, perhaps he was supposed to rescue her.

  He guided Boots to the parking area outside the Davis Mercantile, where the bus dropped off and picked up passengers. The woman turned at the sound of his horse, and Elijah’s eyes widened in surprise. She was holding a babe in her arms.

  Definitely married, then.

  His dream of finding a bride on a snowy January night evaporated.

  Still, he’d do the right thing and offer her a ride.

  He set the brake on the buggy, assured Boots he wouldn’t be long and slipped the horse’s reins around the hitching post.

  The woman glanced at him, then back toward the bus, which was quickly trundling out of sight.

  He hurried over to where she was standing, under the soft lighting of the Mercantile. “Need a ride?”

  Instead of answering, she juggled the baby from her right arm to her left. The child looked to be around six months and was sound asleep. As for the woman, she was a real beauty—tall, thin, with prominent cheekbones and lovely brown eyes.

  “I’m happy to take you wherever you need to go.”

  Elijah was pretty good at reading people. It came in handy when you ran your own business. This woman’s body language seemed to be at odds with itself. At the same time that her chin rose a fraction of an inch in defiance, a look of desperation came into her eyes.

  “I don’t accept rides with strangers.”

  “So you’re expecting someone to pick you up?”

  “For all I know you could be a kidnapper.”

  “I’m Amish.”

  “You could be an Amish kidnapper.”