A Mother's Secret

by Gabrielle Meyer

  The remnants of a sermon by Pastor Jacob filled her mind, and she realized that taking on the Asher name, and being welcomed into a family—not by birth, but by choice—was like being welcomed into the family of God. All the old passed away and the new was upon her.

  But, more importantly, she and Chase would honor God with their marriage and their dedication to their children and to each other. Together, with the help of his family, they would minister to the needs of children in Timber Falls—children like Ryan, Jordan and Kodi—children like Joy had once been.

  “Will you allow me to adopt the boys with you when the time comes?” he asked. “I want to be their forever dad, too.”

  She didn’t think she could love Chase any more than she already did, but his question made her melt into his arms. “Yes,” she said. “I would love that and they would, too.”

  “Let’s go tell them now,” Chase said.

  “Must we go right now?” Joy asked with a smile. “Can I have you to myself for a few more minutes?”

  Chase grinned and then kissed her again.

  This time, she didn’t pull away.

  * * *

  Dappled sunshine paved the grass as Chase left the carriage house for the last time as a single man and walked to the base of Bee Tree Hill. There, on the lower lawn, his friends and family had gathered to witness the wedding vows he and Joy would exchange.

  They couldn’t have ordered a more perfect day. Just beyond the white chairs and the vine-covered trellis, the Mississippi River flowed at a lazy pace. August had arrived in Minnesota, and with it, long, sunny days and cool, starry nights.

  Chase joined Pastor Jacob, who waited under the trellis.

  “Are you ready?” Jacob asked Chase with a confident smile.

  Nodding, Chase shook the pastor’s hand. “More than ready.”

  In the few short months Chase had been in Timber Falls, he and the pastor had become good friends, and Chase looked forward to strengthening that friendship as the years passed.

  Chase turned to face the guests who had gathered, and he had to take a deep breath to quell the emotions that arose in his chest. There, in the front row, his mother sat next to his aunt Constance and several other family members who had come to Bee Tree Hill to set up the organization that Chase would soon manage. It seemed like a perfect time to have a family wedding, as well.

  Malcolm Asher has chosen not to attend, though he had been asked. Chase could only pray that their relationship would be mended over time. He and Joy had committed to praying for him and did it often.

  But today wasn’t a day to look back at past regrets. Instead, Chase looked forward with every shred of hope and love he possessed. Almost everyone from their church had come out to support the couple. Chase smiled at several familiar faces, marveling that he had been welcomed into the community and church so quickly.

  How was it possible to feel like he had lived here all his life?

  Part of it was his connection to his family—but the biggest part was the community’s respect and admiration for Joy.

  Mrs. Thompson wiped tears off her cheeks as she grinned at Chase. She wore a pretty pink dress and was seated in the front row, opposite from Chase’s mother. For all intents and purposes, she was Joy’s mother today.

  As a gentle breeze ruffled the leaves overhead, a harpist and a violinist started to play “Canon in D,” and the guests rose from their chairs to turn and look up the hill.

  Kinsley and Harper appeared first, wearing matching white dresses, one with a pink sash and one with a purple. Their hair had been curled and they wore shiny new shoes. The girls smiled shyly at the group as they dropped rose petals while descending the stairs. Almost at the same moment, they noticed Chase and their big brown eyes shone bright. Kinsley took Harper’s hand and pulled her sister down the steps at a fast clip. They reached the lawn and Kinsley started to run down the aisle—but Harper pulled her to a stop and said very loudly, “No, Kinney, we drop the flowers first.”

  Harper did her job—but Kinsley couldn’t wait. She raced up the aisle toward Chase and wrapped her arms around his legs. When she looked up at him, she said, “We get married today, Daddy?”

  “Yes, Kinney,” Chase said, resting his hand on her brown curls, “we’re all getting married today.”

  A hush fell over the group as Joy appeared with Ryan, Jordan and Kodi on either side of her. When the boys had heard them talking about who would give away the bride, they had eagerly volunteered, and Joy had accepted with tears of happiness.

  Chase could not take his eyes off his bride. She looked stunning in a white gown and veil. It was simple and elegant, just like her. She met Chase’s gaze and her cheeks filled with color—but it was the love in her eyes that made his emotions finally spill over.

  He couldn’t believe how God had orchestrated their love story, but thinking back, he couldn’t imagine it any other way. He and Joy were meant to be, and despite all the pain and heartache, their love was stronger and more powerful than ever before.

  Joy walked slowly down the steps, and then down the aisle where Harper’s petals were waiting for her. Kinsley jumped up and down when she saw her mama, and Chase’s chest filled with the most indescribable love he had ever felt.

  Finally, Joy reached his side with a smile reserved only for him.

  “Who gives this bride away?” Pastor Jacob asked.

  “We do!” all five children said enthusiastically.

  The guests chuckled and Joy blushed. Chase stored it all away in his heart, knowing he would recall this as the best day of his life.

  With the children standing around them, Chase took Joy’s hand in his and pledged his life to hers. He didn’t think he’d remember the words they spoke, or the sermon Jacob delivered, but he would never forget the day he, Joy and the children became a forever family, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until the end of their days.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Pastor Jacob said at the end of the ceremony. “You may kiss your bride.”

  Chase took Joy into his arms and sealed the covenant with a kiss that left the children cheering, the guests applauding and Joy blushing.

  “Welcome to the family, Joy Asher,” he whispered to her.

  The smile she offered was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

  “Welcome home, Chase.” Joy laced her fingers through his. “I’m so happy you came back.”

  Chase held his wife close as their children wrapped their arms around them in a group hug. “So am I.”

  He and Joy laughed and picked up the girls, and drew the boys close.

  They would take pictures, eat a delicious meal and dance to the sound of a stringed orchestra under the beautiful white lights hanging in the trees. And when everyone finally left, they would tuck their children into bed and begin to live as husband and wife. It was the most marvelous way he could think of spending the rest of his life.

  Just thinking about the day he had arrived at Bee Tree Hill, with plans to say goodbye to a chapter in his family’s history and a piece of his past, made him cringe. Thankfully, God had a different plan. Instead of saying goodbye, he had found a new purpose for his life and for the estate. He had discovered a bright future with Joy at Bee Tree Hill and said hello to a life full of hope and meaning. He looked forward to serving the community that had given so much to the Asher family.

  With Joy and the children by his side, he couldn’t wait to begin.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from An Unlikely Amish Match by Vannetta Chapman.

  Dear Reader,

  It has been a joy to set A Mother’s Secret in the fictional town of Timber Falls, inspired by my hometown on the banks of the Mississippi River. In real life, Bee Tree Hill is better known to us locals as Linden Hill, and instead of one mansion, there are ac
tually two mansions on the nine-acre property built by lumber barons in the 1890s. Today, the estate is operated as a conference and retreat center and offers tours throughout the year. Linden Hill is especially dear to me because my dad was the caretaker for the property before the last family member passed away, and we lived in the carriage house. It was a beautiful place to grow up, and every bit of Bee Tree Hill is exactly as you’d find Linden Hill today. I hope you enjoyed spending time with me in Timber Falls.

  Gabrielle Meyer

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

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  An Unlikely Amish Match

  by Vannetta Chapman

  Chapter One

  Susannah Beiler was carrying a to-go bag holding half of a cinnamon roll in one hand and her coffee in the other when she stepped out of Cabin Coffee and started across the street. At that exact moment, a large Ford pickup truck careened to the curb. Her friend Deborah pulled her back with a laugh and a smile. “Wouldn’t do to have you flattened on the streets of Goshen on this beautiful spring day.”

  After all she’d been through the last two years, it would be ironic. Susannah shook off that thought and would have walked across the street that was now clear, but Deborah stepped back under the canopy of the coffee shop and nodded toward the truck. “Do you ever wonder why people act like that?”

  The music was blaring at such a high level that the vehicle was practically rocking. The truck sported a bright blue paint job with streaks of lightning painted down the side, a large chrome bumper and spinning tire rims.

  “Why would you jack it up so high?” Susannah crossed her arms, tapping her right index finger against her left arm. Sometimes she felt like she didn’t understand other people at all.

  “And who would want to purchase such big tires? They look as if they’d fit a tractor.”

  “Ya, I’m not sure what the point is.”

  They glanced at one another when a young man jumped out of the truck, empty fast-food bags and soda cans trailing after him. He noticed the girls, smiled in a cocky Englisch way and then realized they were staring at the litter that had escaped from the truck.

  “Oops.” He snatched up the trash and tossed it into an adjacent trash can before once again flashing them both a smile.

  He was a bit taller than Susannah, but then, most men were. He was also built like the mule her dat kept to watch over the goats—stocky and muscular. Blue jeans, a T-shirt that sported the logo of some rock and roll band, and sandy-colored hair flopping into his eyes and curling at his neck completed the picture.

  Deborah laughed, but Susannah shook her head.

  She couldn’t abide rude people, and this guy seemed oblivious that the truck was obnoxious and the music was too loud.

  The driver of the truck had put the vehicle into Park and jumped out. He had bright red hair sticking out from his ball cap, but other than that he could have been a twin to the first guy. As Susannah and Deborah watched, he walked up to his buddy, and they performed some complicated handshake.

  “Take care, man.”

  “You know it.” The first guy reached into the truck and snatched out a ball cap and a faded backpack.

  “Later.”

  “Much.”

  The driver hopped back into the truck and sped away. The sandy-haired guy winked at Susannah and Deborah, pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and proceeded to stare at it as he walked in the opposite direction.

  “Clueless,” Susannah said, rubbing at the brow over her right eye. “He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t fall off the sidewalk the way he’s staring down at that phone.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m only saying that just because he’s different doesn’t mean that he’s bad.”

  “I didn’t say he was bad.”

  “Uh-huh, but the look you gave the both of them would have frightened a small child.”

  “Really?”

  “Definitely. You’ve always been able to do that—stop someone in their tracks.” Deborah linked their arms together and turned them toward her buggy. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a teacher?”

  “I’m not sure of much, but I am sure of that.”

  “Which is just as well, because you’re a fabulous quilter.”

  “Danki.”

  “Off we go to the fabric store, then.”

  Which cheered up Susannah immensely. Even if she didn’t purchase anything, being around bolts of fabric had a way of encouraging her on the darkest of days. During the worst of her chemotherapy treatments, she’d often stopped into the local fabric store simply to enjoy the smell and touch of new fabric. When she was too sick to piece or quilt, she’d sometimes sit with a basketful of different-colored cotton swatches, dreaming of what she would sew as soon as she was better.

  There was something about brushing her fingertips over the cotton, envisioning the pattern she would use and the quilts she would make and picturing the smiles on tourists who purchased them. Quilting was her way of spreading joy, and wasn’t that what a person of faith was supposed to do?

  Deborah was describing her dat having to battle his way through a thicket of thorny brush to free a goat that had managed to become ensnared. The goat had taken one look at Deborah’s dat and scampered off in the opposite direction, leaving him wondering why he’d thought he needed to save the animal in the first place. “‘Goats are resourceful animals, Deborah. Never forget it,’” Deborah finished with a spot-on imitation of her dat. She always could tell a good story, and they were both laughing by the time they reached the fabric store.

  Susannah enjoyed the rest of the afternoon.

  She forgot all about the Englischer.

  And she arrived home humming a tune and feeling immeasurably better than she had when she had awakened that morning. Some days she still woke terrified that the cancer had returned, certain that she was about to be plunged back into the cycle of doctor’s visits and tests and treatments. Some days were still harder than others.

  But her day had improved, and her mood had lightened with it.

  “Mind fetching the mail for me?” Her mamm had been up since before sunrise—they both had. While Susannah did her best to help with household chores, her mamm often shooed her away, telling her to go rest or step outside for a while or spend an hour in her quilting room. At the moment, her mamm’s apron was a mess, her hair was escaping from her kapp and her hands were covered in bread dough. Two loaves were already baking in the oven and two she’d finished kneading sat on the counter.

  Sometimes Susannah wondered why they still made the bread from scratch, since loaves were certainly cheaper to purchase at the grocery store. She did love the smell of fresh-baked bread, though.

  “And please take your schweschdern. They’re full of energy today.”

  Sharon and Shiloh dropped the dolls they were playing with and ran toward the front door.

  “Sweaters first,” Susannah said. Though it was the last week of April, the afternoons cooled quickly. The twins reversed directions and ran for their cubbies. When the girls were born, her dat had placed cubbies in the mudroom with their names marked at a level they could now easily read.

  “They sound more like puppies on the loose than children,” Susannah said.

  She adored her little schweschdern. Her mamm had been twenty when Susannah was born and forty when the twins came along. They were the siblings she never thought she’d have, and she prayed every day that they hadn’t inherited the gene that had caused her ovarian cancer. She didn’t want anyone else to have to endure such a thing, especially not her schweschdern.
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br />   “Like I said—full of energy. I wouldn’t mind if you stayed out with them a half hour or so, give them time to run some of it off.”

  Susannah thought her mother was one of the most hardworking women she knew, but twin five-year-olds could wear anyone down.

  “Finish that bread and then sit down with a cup of tea. I have a feeling you’ve earned it today.”

  The twins catapulted back into the kitchen.

  “I’m ready.” Shiloh reached for her hand.

  “Me, too. I wonder if we have a letter from Mammi.” Sharon dashed to the front door.

  “Don’t run too far ahead,” Susannah called out.

  The girls looked identical—white-blond hair, blue eyes and a thin build. The only physical difference that was easy to spot was that Sharon had freckles and Shiloh didn’t. Their personalities were quite opposite. Sharon was always running ahead—energetic, enthusiastic and fearless. Shiloh preferred to hang back and carefully watch. She also liked holding hands, while Sharon proclaimed that was for babies.

  By the time Susannah and Shiloh descended the front porch steps, Sharon was already waiting at the lane—hands on her hips, a scowl on her face and a whine in her voice. “Why are you so slow? Come on already.”

  The day was one of those glorious spring days that Susannah often daydreamed about in the winter. The leaves were a green so bright they caused you to blink, and the flowers planted earlier that month had burst into a rainbow of color. The sky was blue, the sun shone brightly and the weather was cool enough to require a sweater but without a cold north breeze.

  Perfect.

  They picked wildflowers as they rambled down the lane.

  Both girls stooped to watch ants carrying tiny pieces of grass.