by Amy Clipston
PRAISE FOR AMY CLIPSTON
“A story of grief as well as new beginnings, this is a lovely Amish tale and the start of a great new series.”
—PARKERSBURG NEWS AND SENTINEL ON A PLACE AT OUR TABLE
“Themes of family, forgiveness, love, and strength are woven throughout the story . . . a great choice for all readers of Amish fiction.”
—CBA MARKET MAGAZINE ON A PLACE AT OUR TABLE
“This debut title in a new series offers an emotionally charged and engaging read headed by sympathetically drawn and believable protagonists. The meaty issues of trust and faith make this a solid book group choice.”
—LIBRARY JOURNAL ON A PLACE AT OUR TABLE
“These sweet, tender novellas from one of the genre’s best make the perfect sampler for new readers curious about Amish romances.”
—LIBRARY JOURNAL ON AMISH SWEETHEARTS
“Clipston is as reliable as her character, giving Emily a difficult and intense romance worthy of Emily’s ability to shine the light of Christ into the hearts of those she loves.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4½ STARS, TOP PICK! ON THE CHERISHED QUILT
“Clipston’s heartfelt writing and engaging characters make her a fan favorite. Her latest Amish tale combines a spiritual message of accepting God’s blessings as they are given with a sweet romance.”
—LIBRARY JOURNAL ON THE CHERISHED QUILT
“Clipston delivers another enchanting series starter with a tasty premise, family secrets, and sweet-as-pie romance, offering assurance that true love can happen more than once and second chances are worth fighting for.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4½ STARS, TOP PICK! ON THE FORGOTTEN RECIPE
“In the first book in her Amish Heirloom series, Clipston takes readers on a roller-coaster ride through grief, guilt, and anxiety.”
—BOOKLIST ON THE FORGOTTEN RECIPE
“Clipston is well versed in Amish culture and does a good job creating the world of Lancaster County, Penn. . . . Amish fiction fans will enjoy this story—and want a taste of Veronica’s raspberry pie!”
—PUBLISHERS WEEKLY ON THE FORGOTTEN RECIPE
“[Clipston] does an excellent job of wrapping up her story while setting the stage for the sequel.”
—CBA RETAILERS + RESOURCES ON THE FORGOTTEN RECIPE
“Clipston brings this engaging series to an end with two emotional family reunions, a prodigal son parable, a sweet but hard-won romance and a happy ending for characters readers have grown to love. Once again, she gives us all we could possibly want from a talented storyteller.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4½ STARS, TOP PICK! ON A SIMPLE PRAYER
“. . . will leave readers craving more.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4½ STARS, TOP PICK! ON A MOTHER’S SECRET
“Clipston’s series starter has a compelling drama involving faith, family and romance . . . [an] absorbing series.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4½ STARS, TOP PICK! ON A HOPEFUL HEART
“Authentic characters, delectable recipes and faith abound in Clipston’s second Kauffman Amish Bakery story.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4 STARS ON A PROMISE OF HOPE
“. . . an entertaining story of Amish life, loss, love and family.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4 STARS ON A PLACE OF PEACE
OTHER BOOKS BY AMY CLIPSTON
THE AMISH HOMESTEAD SERIES
A Place at Our Table
THE AMISH HEIRLOOM SERIES
The Forgotten Recipe
The Courtship Basket
The Cherished Quilt
The Beloved Hope Chest
THE HEARTS OF THE LANCASTER GRAND HOTEL SERIES
A Hopeful Heart
A Mother’s Secret
A Dream of Home
A Simple Prayer
THE KAUFFMAN AMISH BAKERY SERIES
A Gift of Grace
A Promise of Hope
A Place of Peace
A Life of Joy
A Season of Love
NOVELLA COLLECTIONS
Amish Sweethearts
NOVELLAS
A Plain and Simple Christmas
Naomi’s Gift included in An Amish Christmas Gift
A Spoonful of Love included in An Amish Kitchen
Love Birds included in An Amish Market
Love and Buggy Rides included in An Amish Harvest
Summer Storms included in An Amish Summer
The Christmas Cat included in An Amish Christmas Love
Home Sweet Home included in An Amish Winter
A Son for Always included in An Amish Spring (Available March 2018)
A Legacy of Love included in An Amish Heirloom (Available April 2018)
NONFICTION
A Gift of Love
ZONDERVAN
Room on the Porch Swing
Copyright © 2018 by Amy Clipston
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, 3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546
Epub Edition April 2018 9780310349051
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication
Names: Clipston, Amy, author.
Title: Room on the porch swing / Amy Clipston.
Description: Nashville : Zondervan, [2018] | Series: An Amish homestead novel ; 2
Identifiers: LCCN 2017051646 | ISBN 9780310349075 (softcover)
Subjects: LCSH: Amish--Fiction. | Grief--Fiction. | GSAFD: Christian fiction. | Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3603.L58 R66 2018 | DDC 813/.6--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017051646
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
18 19 20 21 22 / LSC / 5 4 3 2 1
For my super awesome husband, Joe, with love and appreciation.
Thank you for being my partner, my rock, and my best friend. And
thank you most of all for putting up with my crazy for all these
years. It’s been a wild ride, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I love you!
GLOSSARY
ach: oh
aenti: aunt
appeditlich: delicious
Ausbund: Amish hymnal
bedauerlich: sad
boppli: baby
brot: bread
bruder: brother
bruderskind: niece/nephew
bruderskinner: nieces/nephews
bu: boy
buwe: boys
daadi: granddad
daed: dad
danki: thank you
dat: dad
Dietsch: Pennsylvania Dutch, the Amish language (a German dialect)
dochder: daughter
dochdern: daughters
Dummle!: Hurr
y!
Englisher: a non-Amish person
faul: lazy
faulenzer: lazy person
fraa: wife
freind: friend
freinden: friends
froh: happy
gegisch: silly
gern gschehne: you’re welcome
grossdaadi: grandfather
grossdochder: granddaughter
grossdochdern: granddaughters
grossmammi: grandmother
Gude mariye: Good morning
gut: good
Gut nacht: Good night
haus: house
Ich liebe dich: I love you
kaffi: coffee
kapp: prayer covering or cap
kichli: cookie
kichlin: cookies
kind: child
kinner: children
krank: sick
kuche: cake
kumm: come
liewe: love, a term of endearment
maed: young women, girls
maedel: young woman
mamm: mom
mammi: grandma
mei: my
mutter: mother
naerfich: nervous
narrisch: crazy
onkel: uncle
Ordnung: The oral tradition of practices required and forbidden in the Amish faith.
schee: pretty
schmaert: smart
schtupp: family room
schweschder: sister
schweschdere: sisters
sohn: son
Was iss letz?: What’s wrong?
willkumm: welcome
Wie geht’s: How do you do? or Good day!
wunderbaar: wonderful
ya: yes
zwillingbopplin: twins
AMISH HOMESTEAD SERIES FAMILY TREES
Marilyn m. Willie Dienner
Simeon (deceased)
Kayla
Nathan
Eva m. Simeon (deceased) Dienner
Simeon Jr. (“Junior”)
Irma Mae m. Milton Lapp
Savilla
Savilla m. Allen Lambert
Mollie Faith
Dorothy (deceased) m. Vernon Riehl
James (“Jamie”)
Mark (Laura’s twin)
Laura (Mark’s twin)
Cindy
Elsie m. Noah Zook
Christian
Lily Rose
Florence m. Alphus (deceased) Esh
Walter
Roy
Sarah Jane
Nellie m. Walter Esh
Judah
Naaman
NOTE TO THE READER
While this novel is set against the real backdrop of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, the characters are fictional. There is no intended resemblance between the characters in this book and any real members of the Amish and Mennonite communities. As with any work of fiction, I’ve taken license in some areas of research as a means of creating the necessary circumstances for my characters. My research was thorough; however, it would be impossible to be completely accurate in details and description, since each and every community differs. Therefore, any inaccuracies in the Amish and Mennonite lifestyles portrayed in this book are due completely to fictional license.
Contents
Praise for Amy Clipston
Other Books by Amy Clipston
Glossary
Amish Homestead Series Family Trees
Note to the Reader
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
About the Author
ONE
“Allen!”
Allen Lambert rolled onto his side and yawned. His eyes blinked open, and his large but dark bedroom came into clear focus. The green numerals on his battery-operated digital clock read 2:12. What had awakened him so early?
He reached out his left arm and found nothing but cold sheets beside him. Savilla wasn’t in bed. Had Mollie cried out in her sleep? He hadn’t heard her.
“Allen!” His wife’s voice was thin and shaky, as if she were calling to him through a thick door.
“Ya?” Allen sat up and shook off the remaining fog of sleep before leaping to his feet. He rushed to the hallway outside the master bedroom. When he heard Savilla’s call again, he realized where she was.
His bare feet slid into the bathroom doorway, and what he saw alarmed him. Savilla sat on the floor, slumped against the far wall with strands of her golden-blond hair stuck to her pale face. Her honey-brown eyes were dull, and sweat beaded on her forehead as she reached for him.
He dropped to his knees in front of her and touched her forehead. It was blazing hot. A near panic clawed at his insides as his hands shook.
“You’re burning up.” He grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack above her and ran cold water over it. After wringing it out, he held it to her forehead. He felt guilty as he pushed the strands of hair away from her beautiful face. “How long have you been calling me?”
“I don’t know.” Her face contorted as she looked up at him. “I feel terrible.” Her eyes widened. “Ach, no. I’m going to be sick again. You have to move.”
He perched on the edge of the bathtub and gathered her thick, waist-length hair into one hand as she vomited into the commode. With his other hand, he rubbed her back and murmured reassurances.
When she finished retching, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
“Shh. This will pass.”
Savilla made a guttural sound in her throat before being sick again. Then she collapsed onto the floor, leaning her head against his thigh, looking up at him.
“When did this start?” He wiped her mouth with the wet washcloth.
“I don’t know. Maybe twenty minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you call me to come sooner?”
“I thought it was going to stop, but it just kept going.”
“I’m worried about you.” He massaged the back of her head, and she closed her eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” she rasped. Then she lurched forward, slumping over the commode once again.
As he held back her hair, Allen cupped his other hand on the back of his neck. Confusion coiled through his insides. He needed to help his wife, but he didn’t know how.
When she stopped vomiting again, tears spilled down her cheeks as she reached for his hand. “Would you please sit here with me?”
Pressure built in his chest as tears pricked his own eyes. “Ya, of course.”
He dropped to the floor beside her and gathered her into his arms. He could feel her hot skin through the sleeves of her pink nightgown, yet she shivered against his chest. He kissed the top of her head.
“I must have the flu.” She rested her head on his shoulder and sniffed. “Do you think that’s it?”
“I don’t know, but I’m really concerned.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
“I hope so.” Once again he pushed Savilla’s hair away from her face. His stomach churned. As her husband, it was his job to take care of her and protect her, and he hated that he didn’t know what to do.
As she closed her eyes and continued to shiver, his worry increased. After several minutes,
she gasped and then was sick again.
Nearly an hour later, Allen was trembling with anxiety as Savilla lay on a towel on the bathroom floor with her head in his lap, her body soaked with sweat and shuddering with chills. He’d gone for her robe to keep her warm, but she kept throwing it off no matter how many times he draped it over her.
God, please heal Savilla, he silently prayed as he held yet another wet washcloth to her forehead.
When her head suddenly turned to the right and her whole body went limp, he stiffened.
“Savilla?” He touched her shoulder, but she didn’t respond. “Savilla!”
She remained silent, unmoving.
“Savilla!” His pulse galloped and his chest seized. “Ach, no. No, no, no.” He rolled up two bath towels to make a pillow, placed them under her head, and then knelt beside her. “Savilla, please, answer me.” He touched her cheek and then shook her arm. “Please answer me.” He laid a hand on her chest and felt it move up and down. A tiny thread of hope took root.
“You’re breathing,” he whispered. “But you need help.” He jumped to his feet, rushed into their bedroom, and pulled the quilt off their bed. After covering her with it, he stood for a moment in the bathroom doorway, his heart thumping against his rib cage. “I promise I’ll be right back.” She didn’t respond or move a muscle.
He hurried back into their bedroom, pulled on a pair of trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, and ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Then he ran through the kitchen and into the mudroom to push his bare feet into a pair of boots. Grabbing a Coleman lantern and the key to his shop, he launched himself out the back door and down the porch steps.
The cool mid-October air seeped through his shirt and trousers as his feet hit the ground.
When he reached the side door of his carriage shop, he unlocked the door and ran to the office. After calling nine-one-one and asking for an ambulance to hurry, he dialed Savilla’s parents’ number. He imagined it ringing in their phone shanty.
“Please answer,” he whispered as the phone continued to ring. “Please, please answer.” When their voice mail picked up, he waited for the greeting and beep as patiently as he could. “Dat! Mamm! It’s Allen. Savilla is very ill, and I need your help.” He ran his hand down his face and beard. “I’ve called for an ambulance, and it’s on the way. Would you please meet me at the hospital? I need help caring for Mollie. Danki.”
After hanging up, Allen stood to run back to the house, but a fresh wave of panic drenched him. What if Milton and Irma Mae didn’t receive the message in time? How could he take care of Mollie by himself when he was so worried about Savilla? His mind raced through a list of their closest friends. Laura Riehl, Savilla’s best friend, lived a couple of miles away and would help, but it was nearly three thirty in the morning. If he called their phone shanty, would anyone even hear it ringing?
