by Sarah Price
“And what of your father . . . and Lydia?” Freman spoke with some hesitance, revealing the old wound that lay beneath the surface.
She allowed herself a moment to think before she responded. What would they say when they learned the news? Would Lydia realize that her previous advice had been faulty? Would her father, having faced the very financial hardships that had caused him to scorn the Whittmore family eight years ago, be softer and more accepting?
“I am of the opinion,” she began slowly and thoughtfully, “that my love and respect for my daed, Lydia, and even my schwesters is enough to persuade them of the sensibilities of my decision in such a way that we will receive their favor, if not also their blessing.” She paused, her resolve strengthened as she realized that submitting her life to God meant that His will should take precedence over the wishes of her family. If she had not succumbed to the pressure of others’ opinions, God would have led her to make wiser decisions.
For a moment she was sobered by the thought, but then another followed, which she shared with Freman. “And we will put the past behind us and show mercy to my family as God has shown mercy to us. After all, He sent His Son, Jesus, to take on the burden of our sins. I have learned, Freman, that God’s mercy is about second chances. God needed to teach me to rely more on Him than on the desires and opinions of others. Then He graciously gave me a second chance to make right the wrong I did to you—to us.”
Freman seemed to digest her words, nodding his head as he silently mulled over her acceptance of culpability in the decisions that had so impacted their lives. Then, with a deep and satisfied sigh, he reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips, gently pressing them to her skin. “There is my sweet Anna. I’ve waited so long for her to return to me.”
Anna leaned her head against his shoulder, shutting her eyes as she savored the feeling of her hand still being held by his. “And your sweet Anna will never leave your side again,” she whispered.
For the next hour Freman directed the horse down the dark roads surrounding the Mussers’ farm. They talked of the future, having both readily agreed the past had been a time of chastening and maturing, an interlude that fulfilled God’s plans for them rather than their own. Who were they to question the path chosen for them, especially since the destination was exactly to their liking? He had led them apart, knowing that their time would be well spent. Now, in the way only God could do, after so many years apart their paths converged once again, and they knew they would never stray onto any other road.
Neither could be persuaded otherwise.
Epilogue
WITH THE BASKET of food tucked over her arm, Anna headed out the side door of the house and walked, barefoot, across the dry, dusty yard toward the large cluster of outbuildings on the other side of the stable. Two horses peered out from the opened Dutch stall doors, one chewing some hay while watching her walk past.
In the small patch of grass between the stable and the driveway leading to the buildings, a small flock of brown chickens scratched and pecked at the dirt. Their big yellow feet kicked up the soil, looking for bugs or worms to eat. As Anna walked through them, a large rooster, his red comb dangling to one side of his head, came charging at her. She had anticipated the move and swung the basket in his direction to scare him away.
The noise of saws cutting wood and hammers smashing nails came from the open doors of the larger of the two buildings. Even though it was the last week of March, an early spring had blessed them with cool breezes and warm sunshine, while other sections of the northeast still battled a cold front from Canada. Anna suspected her sister Mary still wore a black shawl to ward off a chill while her father and Elizabeth were enjoying the Florida sunshine.
“Hullo there!”
She smiled shyly at the young man who greeted her.
He sat atop the roof of a shed just outside the building, nailing shingles to the naked wood. He pushed his hat back and pointed toward the basket which he undoubtedly knew was filled with her good home-cooked food.
“That’s for me, ja?” the man teased.
“Nee, Luke, not today.” She smiled back at him. “You know I bring food for all of you on Fridays!”
Laughing, Luke pointed toward the doorway. “He’s in there, Anna. In the back.”
She nodded and hurried through the opening, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness as she scanned the building, hoping to spot her husband.
Only four months had passed since she had moved to Indiana. If she had feared that she’d miss Ohio, she soon realized that she barely gave thought to Sugarcreek or those that she had left behind. Oh, she prayed for them, each and every one of them, each night when she asked God to bless her family. But to say that she missed Ohio and tending to her sister? Not at all.
From the first week she arrived in Indiana with Freman, she felt that she had finally arrived home. A few years ago he had purchased a small white house with a lot of potential. When he lived there alone, he had only furnished it with the bare essentials. Now that Anna had arrived, she had transformed it from a cold bachelor house into a warm and inviting home.
The people in Freman’s g’may welcomed her with open arms. Within days of her arrival, a steady stream of women arrived, their arms laden with boxes of canned goods to donate to her pantry. Since they had married in Sugarcreek without the benefit of Freman’s community in attendance, the gifts of food were their way of helping her prepare for the winter until she could start her own garden in the spring.
From that moment onward, Anna knew the true meaning of feeling blessed.
He spotted her before she saw him. She could feel the intensity of him staring at her and turned, not expecting to see him leaning against the office door, a clipboard in his hand and the hint of a smile on his face.
“You scared me!” But she smiled anyway.
“How so, Anna? You were looking for me, ja? Now that you’ve found me, why should you be startled?”
She laughed at his gentle teasing, loving the little word games that he played with her. “I think you enjoy surprising me!”
He set down the clipboard on the file cabinet outside of his office and strode toward her, his eyes quickly scanning the building to see if anyone was nearby. Most of the men were out back, sitting at a picnic table and eating the food that their wives had packed for them, while a few men still worked out front on the shingling. With the building being empty of inquisitive eyes, Freman stretched out his hand for her to take and pulled her toward him, his tall frame overshadowing her small, petite one.
“I enjoy many things about you,” he said, his voice soft and his eyes staring into hers. “But nothing more than this . . . just having you here, with me, in my arms.”
She felt the color rise to her cheeks.
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead. “And a basket of your wunderbarr good food helps too.”
Still holding her hand, he gestured toward the door that led outside and toward the area where the men sat at the picnic table. He didn’t have to speak for she could read his mind. With his full and open affection upon her, she did not need to hear words from his mouth to understand his language of love.
Overhead a hawk soared high in the sky, its wings spread open as it floated so elegantly through the higher altitudes. Its proximity to heaven seemed to be nature’s way of praising God. Each gentle swoop was a silent reminder that glory remained to the One who created such magnificence. . . from the gentle ability of the hawk to glide through the air to the powerful capacity of the human to love over the years. It was a lesson not lost on Anna as she walked alongside her husband. Never again would she succumb to the persuasive forces of others. Instead she would rely on and rest in the good and gracious providence of her heavenly Father. For she knew God had the power to ensure His plan was followed, regardless, and no matter what man might say or do, His will would always prevail.
Glossary
ach vell—an expression similar to “Oh well”
Ausbund—Amish hymnal
boppli—baby
bruder—brother
daed—father
danke—thank you
dochder—daughter
Englische—non-Amish people
Englischer—a non-Amish person
ferhoodled—confused and mixed up, often describes a young adults who realize they like someone
fraa—wife
g’may—church district
grossdawdi—grandfather
grossdawdihaus—small house attached to the main dwelling
grossmammi—grandmother
gut—good
gut mariye—good morning
haus—house
ja—yes
kapp—prayer covering or cap
kinner—children
kum—come
maedel—older, unmarried woman
maem—mother
mayhaps—maybe
nee—no
Ordnung—unwritten rules that govern the g’may
Rumschpringe—period of “fun” time for youths
schwester—sister
verrickt—crazy
wie gehts—what’s going on?
wilkum—welcome
wunderbarr—wonderful
vorsinger—the lead singer at worship services, youth gatherings, and school
Other Books by Sarah Price
THE AMISH CLASSIC SERIES
First Impressions
The Matchmaker
THE AMISH OF LANCASTER SERIES
Fields of Corn
Hills of Wheat
Pastures of Faith
Valley of Hope
PRISCILLA’S STORY
Contains four novellas: The Tomato Patch, The
Quilting Bee, The Hope Chest, The Clothes Line
THE PLAIN FAME TRILOGY
Plain Fame
Plain Change
Plain Again
OTHER AMISH FICTION BOOKS
Amish Circle Letters
Amish Circle Letters II
A Gift of Faith: An Amish Christmas Story
An Amish Christmas Carol: Amish Christian Classic Series
A Christmas Gift for Rebecca: An Amish Christian Romance
A complete listing of Sarah Price’s books can be found on her Amazon author page at www.amazon.com/Sarah-Price/e/B00734HBQM.
About Sarah Price
THE PREISS FAMILY emigrated from Europe in 1705, settling in Pennsylvania as the area’s first wave of Mennonite families. Sarah Price has always respected and honored her ancestors through exploration and research about her family’s history and their religion. At nineteen, she befriended an Amish family and lived on their farm throughout the years.
Twenty-five years later Sarah Price splits her time between her home outside of New York City and Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where she retreats to reflect, write, and reconnect with her Amish friends and Mennonite family.
Contact the author at [email protected]. Visit her blog at www.sarahpriceauthor.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/fansofsarahprice.
Table of Contents
COVER PAGE
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
CONTENTS
A NOTE ABOUT VOCABULARY
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PREFACE
PROLOGUE
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
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
GLOSSARY
OTHER BOOKS BY SARAH PRICE
ABOUT SARAH PRICE
