by Jan Drexler
“I’m nearly sixteen!”
“Aye, like I said, you’re just too young.”
They grew quiet, and then Hannah heard a groan from George. She risked a glimpse around the tree. Liesbet was pressed up to him, her hands clinging to his shoulders while she kissed him. As Hannah watched, the man pulled Liesbet closer, one hand reaching up to pull off her kapp and letting her blond curls tumble to her shoulders. He buried his fingers in her hair, continuing the kiss until she struggled to pull out of his grasp. She stepped just beyond his reach and gave him a coy look.
Liesbet, what are you doing?
“Do you still think I’m too young?”
“Lizzie, you’re enough to drive a man to distraction.”
Hannah heard a warning in George’s voice, but Liesbet turned her back on him and walked to the edge of the clearing. She was playing games with the man, but the look on his face in the moonlight was hungry. Predatory. Hannah shivered again.
“When will you get back?”
“In a week or so, you can bet on that, and then I’ll be around for another of your kisses.”
Liesbet turned to look at him, her face a careful pout. “Why can’t you stay here? I don’t like it when you’re gone so much.”
“I have to go, Lizzie, but you know I can’t stay away from you too long.”
There was another pause as Liesbet turned her back on the man. Hannah would have smiled if Liesbet’s game wasn’t so dangerous. It wasn’t often she didn’t get her way.
George snaked out a hand to catch her elbow and pull her close. “Lizzie, lass, give me another kiss. The lads are waiting for me.”
After another lingering kiss, George released Liesbet and turned her around, giving her a solid swat on the behind before he took off along the creek bank, whistling as he went.
Hannah watched Liesbet as she stood in the clearing, bouncing on her toes, humming the same tune George had been whistling, her pretend pout gone.
Stepping out from behind her tree, Hannah tugged her shawl off her head. “Liesbet, what are you doing?”
Liesbet jumped, and then turned on her sister. “You were spying on me?”
“It’s a good thing I saw you. Who is that man and what are you doing with him?”
Liesbet hugged herself and smiled at Hannah. “He’s my beau.”
“Your beau? You mean he’s courting you?”
“Of course he is. You were the one spying on us. Didn’t you see him kiss me?”
“Just because a man takes a kiss doesn’t mean he has courting on his mind.”
Liesbet waved her hand in the air to brush Hannah’s concerns away. “You’re just jealous because you’re not the only one with a secret beau. I know how you and Adam meet out here in the woods and your silly signal flag on the bushes.” Her voice gloated.
Hannah felt the blood drain from her face. “Adam’s not so secret, and he’s not my beau. We’ve known each other all our lives.”
“Ne, Adam’s not secret, but Daed doesn’t know he’s asked you to marry him.”
Hannah caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep herself from retorting to Liesbet’s accusation. Ja, Adam had spoken of marriage, but it was just a game they played. He wasn’t serious.
Liesbet’s smile set Hannah’s teeth on edge. “And I know I saw him kiss you the other day.”
Hannah felt her face heat up. Adam had stolen a kiss, one that had made her heart pound, but one kiss didn’t mean anything, did it?
“Surely you can’t compare that to what I just saw between you and that . . .”
“His name is George McIvey, and I’m going to marry him.”
“Liesbet, you can’t!”
“I am, and you can’t stop me. If you say anything to Daed, I’ll tell him all about how you and Adam have been sneaking around.” Liesbet lifted her chin as she faced Hannah. “I’ll tell Mamm too.”
“Liesbet, not Mamm. You’ll set her off on one of her spells,” Hannah protested, but Liesbet had won the argument. There was nothing she could do to stop her sister except give in to her demands, the way she had for the last nine years. Liesbet still played the delicate invalid, even though Hannah suspected she had outgrown the effects of the diphtheria long ago.
And she couldn’t have Liesbet spreading tales about their neighbor. It didn’t matter that Hannah was eighteen and well into courting age. Adam wasn’t Amish.
“Then you keep my secret, and I’ll keep yours,” Liesbet said.
Hannah hesitated. Liesbet smiled the way she always did when she knew she was getting her way, and her eyes glinted in the moonlight.
“But what if that man is dangerous? Can he be trusted? How long have you known him?”
A frown crossed Liesbet’s face, and then the moon disappeared behind another cloud and the clearing was shadowed once more. Hannah could barely see her sister’s silhouette against the darker trees behind her.
When Liesbet spoke, her voice was unsure. “I’ve known him long enough, and he’s never been anything but kind to me.”
“He isn’t one of us. He isn’t Amish.”
“He isn’t a backward Dutchman, you mean.” Liesbet’s voice was bitter, her uncertainty vanishing as quickly as it came.
Hannah gasped. “You better not let Daed hear you talk like that.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. But you can bet I won’t be marrying any stick-in-the-mud farmer, either.”
Hannah took a step toward her sister. “But, Liesbet, you’ll break Mamm’s heart . . . Promise me you won’t see him anymore.”
Liesbet shrugged, the movement only a rustle in the dark. “Whatever you want.” She turned and ran back toward the house, a shadow in the night.
Acknowledgments
It’s always bittersweet to come to the end of a series of stories. With this book, we say goodbye to the Amish of Weaver’s Creek, and their future lives are left to our imaginations. At the same time, the end of one story means I have the opportunity to invest my time in new projects!
I want to thank Vicki Crumpton, Barb Barnes, Michele Misiak, Karen Steele, and the other editors and staff at Revell and Baker Publishing Group for their tireless work to bring the best in Christian fiction to you, the readers.
I also thank you, my readers, for enjoying my stories and telling your friends about them. I love meeting you, and I hope we’ll have the opportunity to meet in the future if we haven’t already.
And as always, thank you to my dear husband who patiently listens to my story knots and often comes up with just the right way to untangle the thread at the right time.
Most of all, I thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for his call on my life.
Jan Drexler brings a unique understanding of Amish traditions and beliefs to her writing. Her ancestors were among the first Amish, Mennonite, and Brethren immigrants to Pennsylvania in the 1700s, and their experiences are the inspiration for her stories. Jan lives in the Black Hills of South Dakota with her husband, where she enjoys hiking and spending time with her expanding family. She is the author of The Sound of Distant Thunder, Hannah’s Choice, Mattie’s Pledge (a 2017 Holt Medallion finalist), and Naomi’s Hope, as well as several Love Inspired historical novels.
JanDrexler.com
Table of Contents
Cover
Endorsements
Half Title Page
Books by Jan Drexler
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Epigraph
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Epilogue
An Excerpt from Book 1 in the JOURNEY TO PLEASANT PRAIRIE Series
Acknowledgmen
ts
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
List of Pages
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