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

by Marta Perry

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Since Becky was very occupied in helping Sarah to close the coffee shop, Simon didn’t suggest she go with him to see Aunt Bess. Instead, he drove out the road alone, stopping for a moment at the point where the old lane led off to the right. The barricade ahead of him sealed the spot where the road had collapsed. Looking at the creek now as it tumbled gently over rocks in the stream bed, he had a vivid image in his mind of Lyddy’s buggy rocking perilously in the raging current, while Lyddy struggled to get the mare to safety.

  His heart gave an uncomfortable thud at the picture. Would she have gotten out if he hadn’t come along just then? Maybe, but thank the gut Lord he had. It was a wonderful example of how the Lord cared for each one.

  With a silent prayer of thanksgiving, he turned onto the lane and made his way over the rutted surface toward the farm. It got a little worse each day, and another load of gravel might not be enough. The highway department probably hadn’t even considered this small area in the midst of the damage the flood had done.

  Arriving at the house, he greeted everyone and then hurried to the bedroom where Aunt Bess was waiting. Waiting impatiently, he realized as soon as he saw her face.

  “It took you long enough,” she snapped.

  He didn’t find it hard to see that her forced confinement was hard on Aunt Bess’s nerves. She was always one to be up and doing, not taking it easy as the doctor had said she must.

  “The way through the woods is in pretty bad shape. There’s no way to take it at a trot, that’s certain sure.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t look mollified. Frowning, she pointed to a straight chair that was across from the rocker she occupied. “Sit down there and account for yourself. What did you say to get Lyddy so upset?”

  At first he could only gape at her. He’d never thought Lyddy would talk about it. “How did you find out?”

  “Lyddy’s grossmammi got it out of her after she came home weeping her eyes out.”

  Lyddy, weeping because of what he had said to her? The words felt like a punch in the heart.

  “I… I don’t understand. She seemed to be all right when she left the shop. I’d never have guessed she’d be upset.” He remembered the calm with which she’d turned him down.

  “You were wrong. What exactly did you say?”

  He suspected he wasn’t going to be forgiven very quickly for this misstep. And he guessed he didn’t deserve to be forgiven, but how could he have known it would perturb her that much?

  “I asked her to marry me. I said we’d known each other from childhood, and we got along well, and I knew how much she cared about Becky. And I told her what Daad said—”

  He stopped, because Aunt Bess’s expression said he shouldn’t quote Daad.

  “Go on,” she snapped. “What did your daad say?”

  “He…he said that…well, that there were lots of reasons for getting married besides falling in love.” Under her critical gaze, he stumbled to a stop.

  “First of all, don’t ever follow another man’s advice about women. Your father meant well, I guess.” She made it sound like a bad thing. “Never mind what he said. What do you feel about Lydia?”

  Thoughts tumbled around in his head. “I admire her. She’s a wonderful good person—loving and sympathetic and always helping others. But as for love, I don’t feel for Lyddy what I felt for Rebecca, and—”

  “You’re ferhoodled, that’s what you are!” She smacked her hand on the arm of the rocker, looking like she’d like to smack something else. “For sure you don’t feel what you felt for Rebecca. You’re not seventeen now. You’re not a boy, waiting to tumble head over heels in love.”

  She started to cough, alarming him. “Aunt Bess, don’t upset yourself. I’d better leave. We can talk later.”

  “Yah, you go away.” She glared at him, and he winced. “Go away and think about how you feel when you’re with Lyddy. And then ask yourself how you’d feel if you never saw Lyddy again.”

  The words snatched his breath away for a moment. Before he could speak, she went on.

  “If you ever figure out what you want, then tell her what that is, starting with your feelings.”

  “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to,” he said, unwilling to say another word about his feelings and searching for an excuse. “She hasn’t let me get anywhere near her, and I don’t think she will.”

  Aunt Bess looked at him, shaking her head as if he’d given a foolish answer. “That’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself. There’s always a way if you want something badly enough. Now go away and do some thinking.”

  Chastened, Simon headed back toward town, carefully avoiding the worst of the ruts and holes. He appreciated Aunt Bess’s caring. He did. And he was sorry he’d made Lyddy cry. But he couldn’t…

  He’d made Lyddy cry. The words surrounded his heart, squeezing it without mercy. He’d made her cry.

  What was it Aunt Bess had said? Think about how you feel when you’re with Lyddy. That was easy enough to answer, wasn’t it? He felt warm, safe, understood, happy. And he wanted to be with her more and more.

  But that wasn’t love—at least, it wasn’t what he had felt when he’d fallen in love with Rebecca. Aunt Bess had made short work of that reasoning, hadn’t she?

  He’d reached the blacktop road. Once again he stopped, staring at the creek, remembering. And hearing Aunt Bess’s words again. Ask yourself how you’d feel if you never saw Lyddy again.

  Eyes fixed on the swirling water, he found his thoughts swirling as if they were being tumbled in the creek the way Lyddy’s buggy had been. He seemed to see Lyddy back in the raging waters, being swept away and out of his sight while he stood helpless, unable to save her.

  And then the truth overwhelmed him until he felt as if he were drowning in it.

  He knew now what he wanted. He wanted Lyddy, not because she’d be a good mother to Becky but because she was as important to him as breathing. But after the mistake he’d made, how could he ever convince Lyddy?

  * * *

  By the next morning, Lydia still wasn’t sure how many of her family members knew what had happened. She hadn’t thought to urge Grossmammi to keep it quiet, but she’d know it wasn’t the sort of thing Lyddy would want drifting around the community.

  Judging by the sympathetic glances Mammi was sending her way as she ate breakfast, Mammi must know. But at least she wasn’t talking about it. That was the last thing Lyddy wanted right now. She was still too close to the edge of tears for anything like that.

  Josiah started to ask her something, but Daad caught his attention and sent his mind off in another direction. Thank the good Lord. One day this would fade from her memory, and she’d be able to talk about Simon, and to Simon, in a normal way. But that day seemed very, very far away.

  As soon as possible, Lyddy set out for town. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Simon, but she was responsible for keeping the coffee shop running, and she lived up to her responsibilities. Given how embarrassed he’d seemed the previous day, she could hope that Simon would find things to do that kept him out of her vicinity.

  Beth had been right to urge patience. Simon wasn’t going to be at the shop forever, and once he’d moved, she’d see very little of him. She shouldn’t have to give up a job she enjoyed just because he had spoken out of turn.

  Fortified by her thoughts, she followed the lane down toward the spot where it joined the road. The surface was worse here, probably because excess rainfall was flowing down the hill toward the stream. Daad had been talking about getting together with the neighbors to put another load of gravel on it, tamping it down firmly. He seemed to think very little of the chances the state would get at the job soon. Simon’s daad would be wanting to help, no doubt.

  Her thoughts occupied, Lydia rounded a stand of dense pines and found the blacktop road in sig
ht. Just where the lane joined the road, a buggy stood, half-on, half-off the lane. A buggy she recognized—Simon’s buggy. And Simon was on the ground next to the front wheel.

  Lydia didn’t think. She just ran, jumping from the buggy even before the mare came to a halt, and raced toward him. If Simon was hurt…

  As she neared him, he rose, and in another moment she felt his arms close around her, holding her as if he’d never let go. She felt his heart beating with hers—his breath moving in rhythm with hers. She couldn’t think; she could only feel.

  “Are you all right? You weren’t hurt?” She managed to gasp out the words.

  A rumble sounded in his chest as he chuckled. “Not hurt just sliding off the seat, that’s certain sure. I cut the corner too sharp and slid right into the ditch.” He pressed his cheek against hers. “Serves me right for teasing you about your driving.” His arms tightened convulsively. “Lyddy,” he murmured, his voice roughening. “Forgive me.”

  She leaned back just enough to look into his face, and what she saw there silenced all her doubts.

  “I will always forgive you.” She knew she was making a promise to last a lifetime. “I love you.” It was such a relief to say the words, to express the feeling that surged through her at his touch and his nearness.

  “I love you.” He moved, cupping her face in his hands and looking into her eyes. “I love you, and I was so foolish. I didn’t even recognize love when I saw it.”

  She could smile now, any smidgen of doubt chased away for good. “What made you see?”

  “Aunt Bess.” He made a rueful grimace. “She always knows everything. She asked me how I would feel if I never saw you again.” His palms pressed against her cheeks. “I couldn’t bear it. I knew in an instant. If you went away, I couldn’t…” His eyes filled with tears. She reached up to pull his face to hers.

  “I won’t,” she said. “You have me for keeps.”

  His lips touched hers, and joy filled her heart. Simon had given her the most precious gift he could. He’d given her his love. On that gift they would build a family with Becky and whatever other children the Lord should send them. And every day she would thank God, the giver of all good gifts, for bringing them together.

  * * * * *

  Dear Reader,

  I’m happy you picked up my new Lost Creek book. Whether you’re new to Lost Creek or an old friend, welcome!

  Lost Creek has become very real to me over the course of five books, and sometimes I forget that it comes from my imagination. This new story brings in some familiar characters and places while introducing new people, all drawn together in an emergency.

  I’ve done flood stories before, but I find that when you’ve gone through it yourself, there’s always something new to say. It’s my experience that emergencies, whether they’re weather events or epidemics, can bring out the very best in people as they rally to help one another through difficult times.

  I hope you’ll let me know how you liked my book, and do let me know if you’d like to receive a bookmark and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can reach me at www.martaperry.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/martaperrybooks.

  Blessings,

  Marta Perry

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  ISBN-13: 9781488070952

  A Secret Amish Crush

  Copyright © 2021 by Martha P. Johnson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  Love Inspired

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  www.Harlequin.com

  “Why don’t you like me, Eden?”

  “I like you.” It sounded weak.

  “Never mind. You don’t have to like me. I just—The girls need you. Come to the ranch. Look it over and tell me if it will work for babysitting.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both.”

  She was honest. He’d give her that.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s too hard.” Only then did he notice how much emotion she seemed to be bottling in. “It was…home.”

  The word was infused with reverence, longing and loss. He knew she’d been living with her parents until last year. He’d assumed she’d moved into the apartment above Brittany’s studio to get some independence. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “I don’t know what to say. Your parents were selling it. I feel like I should apologize, but I’m not sure what I’d be apologizing for.”

  She ducked her chin, avoiding his eyes.

  “If you come over, you’ll see it’s got plenty of room for all three of the kids.” Ryder couldn’t afford to lose her—neither could the twins.

  Jill Kemerer writes novels with love, humor and faith. Besides spoiling her mini dachshund and keeping up with her busy kids, Jill reads stacks of books, lives for her morning coffee and gushes over fluffy animals. She resides in Ohio with her husband and two children. Jill loves connecting with readers, so please visit her website, jillkemerer.com, or contact her at PO Box 2802, Whitehouse, OH 43571.

  Books by Jill Kemerer

  Love Inspired

  Wyoming Sweethearts

  Her Cowboy Till Christmas

  The Cowboy’s Secret

  The Cowboy’s Christmas Blessings

  Hers for the Summer

  Wyoming Cowboys

  The Rancher’s Mistletoe Bride

  Reunited with the Bull Rider

  Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets

  His Wyoming Baby Blessing

  Small-Town Bachelor

  Unexpected Family

  Her Small-Town Romance

  Yuletide Redemption

  Hometown Hero’s Redemption

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  Hers for the Summer

  Jill Kemerer

  He brought me forth also into a large place:

  he delivered me, because he delighted in me.

  —2 Samuel 22:20

  To my sister, Sarah.

  Writing this book brought back so many good memories of growing up in the country, riding bikes, playing with our dolls, arguing, giggling and always having each other’s backs. I love you!

  CONTE
NTS

  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

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  CHAPTER ONE

  Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a mommy. Maybe she was only meant to nurture other people’s children.

  Eden Page tucked her hands into the pockets of her winter coat as she strode toward Cattle Drive Coffee. The air was clear and cold, typical for Rendezvous, Wyoming, in mid-April. It had been another long, never-ending winter. Signs of spring were all around, though. Green shoots of flower bulbs poked out in front of the bank across the street, and a few of the trees had loosened their grips on the tight buds capping off their branches. For the first time since her sister died, Eden wondered if spring was on its way in her own life, too.

  Mia had been gone for almost five years. Since then Eden had been drifting along, babysitting full-time for friends and waiting and hoping for Mr. Right to show up. Unfortunately, Mr. Wrong hadn’t even knocked on her door at this point.

  For as long as Eden could remember, she’d wanted to get married, have children and live in Rendezvous, preferably on a ranch. She didn’t regret quitting college to be here for Mia’s final months, and she was thankful she’d been able to babysit her nephew, Noah, until Mason Fanning, Mia’s husband, got remarried last year. Eden still spent a lot of time with the five-year-old boy.