Harlequin Love Inspired March 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Marta Perry

  When she returned with the brewed tea, Beth was smiling in the direction of Becky and Noah. “She’s a child of few words, ain’t so?”

  “Shy, that’s all.” Lydia grew more serious. “This hasn’t been easy. Losing her mammi and now trying to get used to a new place and new people.”

  “Kinder do adapt,” Beth said gently, a touch of wistfulness in her voice. And she should know, having her own fatherless child. But Noah had Daniel, who seemed to be doing a wonderful gut job of being just what they both needed.

  Brushing away her momentary sadness, Beth pulled something else from her bag and handed it to Lydia. “A letter from Miriam,” she said, referring to their cousin. “She says she’s coming home soon, and she sounds excited about it.”

  “We’re be sehr happy to have her back.” Lydia seized the letter and tucked it away for later reading and answering. Their round-robin letters had kept the three of them close while they were apart. She was about to say something else about Miriam when Elizabeth, coming down from a short rest, saw Beth and exclaimed happily.

  In another moment the two of them were chatting, and Lydia fetched another cup, then moved to the children’s table to check on Becky and Noah.

  Noah showed her his picture. “I made a really big daisy.”

  She might not have been positive without his identification, since the daisy seemed to have purple spots. “Very colorful,” she said tactfully.

  “My picture is big, too.” Becky’s voice was soft, but she seemed determined not to be outdone, which Lydia considered a good sign.

  “I like that one, too.”

  “Mine’s brighter.” Noah frowned. As an only child, he wasn’t used to competition.

  Becky’s lip trembled, and Lydia realized a quick intervention was needed. “I’ll show you something else you can do with a flower picture.” Grabbing an extra sheet, she sketched a quick flower with an orange pencil, and then made two holes in the center.

  “You’ll ruin it,” Noah said.

  “No, I won’t.” She held it up to her face, peering through the small holes. “I made it into a mask, so I can pretend to be a flower.”

  She made the flower sway from side to side, as if it moved in the breeze.

  Noah clapped. “Show Mammi. I want one, too. Look, Mammi.” He grabbed her hand, trying to swing her around.

  Lydia swung, the mask slipped, and she couldn’t see a thing.

  “Whoa.” She broke up in laughter. “You’re going to pull the flower right out of the ground.”

  “I’ll help you.” Becky actually said it loud enough to be heard, and she jumped from her chair to catch hold of Lydia’s skirt.

  Laughing with sheer joy at Becky joining in, Lydia caught hold of her hand and swung her and Noah around until they were all laughing.

  Except for one person. Simon had come out of the storeroom, and laughter was the last thing on his face.

  For a moment no one spoke, and it must have been as obvious to Elizabeth and Beth that Simon wasn’t pleased about her.

  “There you are, Simon.” Elizabeth sounded deliberately cheerful. “Komm, join the fun. Lyddy is helping Becky get to know a new playmate.”

  His expression cleared, but not without some effort. “So I see. Who is this young man?”

  “That’s my boy, Noah.” Beth rose to greet him. “You remember me, yah?”

  “For sure. It’s gut to see you, Beth.”

  Lydia realized he was trying to sound friendly, but it was a shame that he had to try so hard. Couldn’t he see that everyone here wanted the best for him and Becky?

  She handed the improvised mask to Becky. The child smiled, looked through it, and then handed it to Noah, a gesture that warmed Lydia’s heart. If Becky could open up, even a little, it was surely the best thing for both father and daughter. Maybe he’d be able to follow her example, and Lydia prayed it might be so.

  * * *

  Simon found it impossible to relax, even when he was well on his way back to the farm. He’d longed to return to Lost Creek, and for the most part he was pleased to be here. But being around people who’d known you all your life had disadvantages, too. They felt only too free to meddle.

  He glanced at Becky, snuggled up next to him on the buggy seat. If she hadn’t wanted to leave the coffee shop, she hadn’t complained, either. Had she really enjoyed the silly playacting that seemed to erupt when Lyddy was around?

  Chiding himself for being unfair, he shook his head. He shouldn’t criticize Lyddy, even in his own mind. She must have many good qualities, or Aunt Bess wouldn’t be so fond of her. Still, he wasn’t sure she was the best person to have around his Becky.

  Such a good child. He put his arm around her, and she looked up at him with a sweet smile that almost brought tears to his eyes. He was the one who knew his daughter best, he assured himself.

  She was very quiet, he admitted. More so than when Rebecca was alive? Maybe so, but that was only natural, wasn’t it?

  “Did you have fun with Noah?” He asked the question to shut out the memories of Rebecca and Becky together.

  Becky considered for a moment, head tilted slightly. “Yah, I guess so.” She thought some more. “Boys are a little rough.”

  The pronouncement, delivered in a serious tone, made him smile. “Yah, I guess they are, sometimes. But that’s just how they play.” In a few more months she’d be going off to first grade at the Lost Creek school. She’d have to get used to little boys, he supposed.

  The mare turned into the farm lane automatically, picking up her pace a little at the sight of the barn and the thought of a bucket of oats, most likely. He drew her back a little and pointed across the field.

  “Right over there, by the trees. That’s where our new house is going to be.”

  Becky studied the site seriously, as she did everything. “Will I be able to climb those trees?” she asked at last.

  He had to chuckle. “When you’re big enough, I imagine you will. Your aunt Sarah was always just as good at that as her twin.”

  She nodded. “Maybe she can teach me.”

  This desire to climb trees was certainly new. Was it something Noah had said that put the thought into her mind? He guessed he’d best be prepared for lots of new ideas once she started school.

  “I’m sure she’d like to,” he responded. “Do you want to go and see the place where our house will be?”

  “Yah. Then I can see how big the trees are.”

  Simon wasn’t quite sure how to respond. A wave of longing for Rebecca swept through him. A little girl needed her mammi, that was certain sure.

  Daad came to join them as he unharnessed the mare. His first words were for Becky. “Did you find the things you wanted for your dolly?”

  How was it Daad knew what she’d wanted to find when he hadn’t?

  “Yah, except for her nightgown. But Lyddy said her doll has an extra one. She’s going to give it to me.”

  Daad didn’t blink an eye at the idea that Lyddy still played with dolls. “That’s nice of Lyddy. And I think your grossmammi would like to make a new one for her, too.”

  Becky’s face lit up at the idea, making him wonder why he hadn’t thought of that. He seemed to be lagging behind on the whole subject.

  Becky slid her hand into Daad’s. “We’re going to see where our new house will be. Will you come, too?”

  Daad glanced at him, and Simon saw that his eyes were bright with tears at the invitation. “I will, for sure.”

  One step forward, two steps back. Or maybe he was the only one finding problems. Or inventing them where they didn’t exist.

  They’d reached the spot, and Daad found the peg, almost hidden by the grass that was springing up. “Here’s where the corner of your house will be.” Holding Becky’s hand, he paced off. “And that means your back door will be about right
here. What you do think about that?”

  She eyed the trees that would shade the backyard, once they had one. “I like it,” she announced. Releasing his hand, she skipped off through the wet grass toward the nearest tree.

  Seeing the questioning look in Daad’s eyes, he shrugged. “She wants to learn how to climb trees all of a sudden. Only thing I can figure out is that she was playing with Beth’s little boy at the coffee shop, and he must have put the idea in her head.”

  “If it wasn’t Noah, it would be something else. You can’t stop kinder from stretching their wings a little bit.”

  “That’s for sure.” He repressed the instinct to say that she was just a baby. She wasn’t, and he had to get used to it.

  “Noah will be starting school in September, too, yah? Your mamm was talking about having Becky meet some of the other young ones her age.” He chuckled. “She’s been longing to have a little one around again. The twins are getting too big for her to baby.”

  “I’ll say. I can’t believe how they’ve grown. Maybe I can put Thomas to work when we can finally get started on the house.”

  Daad studied his face. “Getting impatient, ain’t so? And everyone is saying it’ll be a wet spring.”

  “Maybe everyone is wrong,” he muttered. If he just saw some sign of progress, he’d feel better. That reminded him that he hadn’t mentioned Aunt Bess’s idea. “Aunt Bess wants me to use that storeroom of hers as a workshop. There’s plenty of space, and I could get started on a few old clocks I want to refurbish and sell.”

  “Sounds like a fine idea.” Daad greeted the plan so fervently that Simon suspected he was tired of his impatience to get the house built. “But you could do it here, if you want.” He turned to gaze at the farmhouse. “Maybe—”

  Simon shook his head, smiling. “You’re full up, Daad. And I’d need a space where I can feel stuff out without somebody deciding to clean or somebody else borrowing my tools.”

  Daad might have been annoyed, but instead he chuckled. “That sounds like our house, all right. Between your mother and Anna Mae, they’ll clean anything that stands still. Well, if you do work at Aunt Bess’s place, you know your mamm will be happy to watch Becky.”

  This topic did require careful handling. “Aunt Bess said I could take her there, too. Becky has taken a liking to Lyddy.”

  “Couldn’t find anyone better to like,” Daad said promptly. “Lyddy’s a fine girl. Well, you can just take Becky with you or leave her here, whichever seems best any day.”

  “I wish I thought Mammi would see it that way. I don’t want her to feel hurt.”

  That was another reason he wanted to get into his own house as soon as possible. Living in someone else’s home made it hard to do want you wanted without affecting another person.

  “She’ll understand.” Daad clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll see.” He paused for a moment. “Anyway, I think so.”

  Simon chuckled. “Not so sure, are you?”

  Daad smiled back. “It comes of having so many females in the house. I have to watch my step between your mammi, and Anna Mae, Sarah and Becky, and even the boppli is a girl. We’re outnumbered.”

  “Yah.” He moved restlessly, feeling the earth boggy under his feet. “You see why I’d like to get us into our own place, ain’t so? We’ll only be a stone’s throw away, but it will be best.”

  “Yah, I know how you’re feeling.” Daad laid a hand on his shoulder again, just as he’d always done when he wanted one of them to listen carefully. “But there’s one thing none of us can control, and that’s the weather. They’ll not get the heavy equipment in here to dig the foundation while it’s this wet.” He stamped his foot, and water squished up. Apparently satisfied he’d made his point, he added, “Maybe you’d best ask the bishop to pray about it on Sunday.”

  Knowing Daad was joking, he smiled. Praying to bend the weather for his own benefit wasn’t something any of them were likely to do. Still, there were times when prayers for the weather were suitable, like the times Lost Creek overflowed its banks and the river flooded the lower end of town. Then Amish and Englisch had joined in prayers for relief.

  But his need to have a foundation dug didn’t come into that category. Maybe what he needed to pray for was patience.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lydia slipped the last pin into place in the front of the blue dress she was wearing to worship and double-checked to be sure her hair went smoothly back under her kapp. A call from the kitchen below her room had her scurrying down the stairs.

  Mammi, in the kitchen, was shepherding her flock toward the family carriage. “Komm along. We can’t make up time with a horse and buggy, remember?”

  Mammi said that every church Sunday, so they should remember, but whether it kept her brothers on time, she’d never been sure.

  “Lyddy, will you check and see if Grossmammi needs any help?” Her mother turned from putting on the black wool coat she wore on chilly Sunday mornings.

  “Yah, Mammi.” Grasping her own jacket, she turned toward the door to the daadi haus just as it opened.

  “No need,” Grossmammi said, hustling into the room while trying to push her arm into the sleeve of her coat. “I’m ready.”

  Lydia eased the sleeve into place and buttoned the coat, knowing that Grossmammi’s arthritic fingers might have trouble this early in the morning.

  “Denke, sweet girl,” she murmured, patting Lydia’s cheek. “Who is not here?”

  “Josiah is bringing the carriage up, and here is Joanna,” Mammi said. Joanna, Lyddy’s eighteen-year-old sister, turned to her.

  “Is the length right on this dress, do you think?” She turned around slowly. “I know Mammi thinks it’s too short.”

  Lydia surveyed it carefully, hiding a smile. Joanna had become very fussy in the past month or so about how she looked. Since Jesse Berger had been bringing her home from singing, in fact.

  “It looks fine to me. Don’t you think so, Grossmammi?”

  “I do, yah.” She touched Joanna lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sure Jesse will think so.”

  “Grossmammi…” Joanna began, but Lydia gave her a gentle push toward the door.

  “We know what you’re going to say, but save it. It’s time to load up.”

  Outside, the air was crisp but the sun warm, even this early. Lydia helped her grandmother in and slid onto the front side of the buggy next to Josiah.

  “Who’s last?” he muttered.

  Lydia checked a giggle. “James, of course. Who else?” She and Josiah tried not to tease the younger ones, but sometimes they had to share a laugh.

  Josiah, the oldest, was only eighteen months older than Lydia, and although he sometimes got bossy, they had always been close. It was Josiah who’d gone with her when she’d gotten that frightening note from Thomas Burkhalter.

  Telling herself that was no thought for the Sabbath, she pushed it away. But she’d always be grateful to Josiah.

  The past few days had been so calm and normal that she’d begun to think she’d been imagining things with Simon. He had been in and out of the shop, taking some things out to the farm and setting up others. She hadn’t had occasion to go in the storeroom, and since he locked the door when he left, there had been no opportunity to get a glimpse.

  Still, she had no cause for complaint. If Simon hadn’t felt anything in that odd, speechless moment between them, she wouldn’t bring it up. She just hoped that her own expression hadn’t given anything away to Simon. Even the thought of that made her cheeks grow warm.

  They reached the site of worship without too much time to spare, and judging by Daad’s expression, her little brother was going to hear about that before the day was over.

  The youngest Miller boys took charge of the buggy, and Lydia held Grossmammi’s arm for the short walk to the barn where the service was being held. She deposite
d Grossmammi among the women and found her own spot at the end of the line of unmarried women, while Joanna moved to the girls who were in her rumspringa group. Beth wasn’t one of the unmarried, of course, and hadn’t been for some time. But she’d missed Miriam during the months the latter had been in Ohio helping out relatives. Miriam’s absence had left Lydia feeling odd, stuck as she was between the rumspringa-age girls and the young married women.

  Not that she was eager to become one of them, she reminded herself. She had no desire to marry. Inevitably, her thoughts replayed that conversation with Grossmammi, and her mention of Thomas Burkhalter.

  That had stunned her. She’d told herself people had forgotten what happened to Thomas, but Grossmammi never forgot anything. She’d remember everything about those days, just as Lydia did.

  Poor Thomas. She stared firmly at the barn door and waited for it to open. If she’d been a little older, if he hadn’t been her first beau, if she’d realized sooner what was happening in his mind…

  If. Grossmammi always said that thinking if was a waste of time and better forgotten. But sometimes thoughts couldn’t just be dismissed. She could never chase away the strain of those days. She’d never forget Thomas’s tears, or his wild talk. And certainly not the note she’d found. The note that said he couldn’t live without her, and that by the time she read it, he’d be dead.

  She shivered in the warm sun, her gaze seeking out her brother Josiah in the line of young men opposite her. Josiah had seen her face when she’d opened the note. He’d hustled her into the buggy and driven the gelding at a gallop to the Burkhalter farm, driving straight into the barn.

  Thank the good Lord he hadn’t stopped at the house first. As it was they were just in time—standing on the buggy, trying to hold on to Thomas while Josiah cut the rope he’d put round his neck.

  Most folks said it wasn’t her fault. Even the bishop had declared that she and Josiah should be thanked for arriving in time so that Thomas could get the help he needed. Thomas’s own mother had told her not to blame herself. But none of it was any use. She couldn’t possibly keep from blaming herself, and she never had.