The Amish Wedding Promise

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The Amish Wedding Promise Page 1

by Laura V. Hilton




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

  Copyright © 2019 by Laura V. Hilton

  Excerpt from The Amish Secret Wish copyright ©2019 by Laura V. Hilton

  Cover design and illustration by Elizabeth Turner Stokes

  Cover copyright © 2019 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Forever

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10104

  read-forever.com

  twitter.com/readforeverpub

  First ebook edition: December 2019

  Forever is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

  ISBN: 978-1-5387-0064-8 (mass market), 978-1-5387-0062-4 (ebook)

  E3-20191031-ORN-DA

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Discover More

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  A Preview of The Amish Secret Wish

  To Loundy: my favorite song.

  To Michael: my adventurous one.

  To Kristin: my darling daughter.

  To Jenna: my sunshine.

  To Kaeli: my shower of blessing.

  In memory of the real Daadi Cliff: Cliff Hall. May you rest in peace. Thanks for being like a grandfather to my children.

  And in memory of my parents, Allan and Janice, and my uncle Loundy and my grandmother Mertie, who talked about their Pennsylvania Amish heritage.

  To God be the glory.

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  Chapter 1

  “Get to the shelter! A tornado is heading this way!”

  The male voice, accompanied by the incessant blaring of a vehicle horn, didn’t wake Grace Lantz. She was already awake, her arm wrapped around her sister’s shoulders, both of them kneeling beside their shared bed.

  “Dear Jesus, please calm storm like in story we read in Bible class,” Patience said as she leaned into Grace, shivering.

  Too bad real life wasn’t quite so cut-and-dried. Grace hadn’t been able to sleep due to troubling thoughts about her imminent marriage, and she was already praying, Is this it, Lord? Did you want me to come to a complete and total end of myself? Well, I have. Now what? So when Patience awoke due to the storm, it’d been a simple matter to slide to their knees.

  The horn blared again, followed by a pinging that sounded like hail hitting the window glass.

  The bedroom door slammed against the wall as their older brother Jon barged into the room. “Come on. Hurry now.”

  “I finish prayer,” Patience whimpered and stayed by the bed.

  Jon huffed and looked at Grace. “The storm’s pretty bad.”

  “Amen.” Grace finished the prayer for her sister, snagged her hand, and pulled her to her feet.

  Jon led the way with the dim, flickering beam from his flashlight’s dying batteries as they rushed downstairs to the small basement. They all bypassed the big monstrosity of a wood-burning furnace with vents leading up through the haus. Mamm had already laid out sleeping pallets on the side of the basement that didn’t leak. Daed and Jon never seemed to find the time to apply sealant to the one wall.

  “Please, Jesus. Save us from the storm.” Patience sank to her knees and prayed out loud.

  “Amen.” Daed sat beside her and patted her arm. “We should all pray for safety.”

  “And try to get some sleep,” Mamm added, looking pointedly at Grace. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  And with that, Grace’s thoughts swirled back to the wedding, to the backless benches sitting in neat rows in the barn. The wagon waiting—the one that carried the benches from haus to haus each church Sunday, wedding, or funeral. Her stomach clenched, roiled. She sank into the softness of the quilt pallets Mamm had prepared. It was her last nacht as an unmarried girl. She was supposed to be excited, thinking about tomorrow nacht alone with Timothy, but were these prewedding jitters normal? The doubts? The fears? Her married friends never mentioned them. The—

  An angry roar, like a train rushing past, filled the air. But this train was filled with scary thumps, bumps, and a sucking sound that seemed to squeal and scream.

  Patience prayed the same words louder, probably so Gott could hear her over the strong winds. “Save us from the storm, Jesus.”

  How could Grace comfort her younger sister when she was filled with fear, too? Not because of the storm. Illinois tornadoes always seemed to miss them. How many nights had she spent in this basement due to false alarms? She wouldn’t have even bothered to go downstairs if it weren’t for Jon coming to get them.

  Instead, the wedding demanded Grace’s attention. Maybe she should pray, but how could she when her thoughts spun as fast as the wind outside?

  An eerie silence filled the air. Grace raised her head. Daed met her gaze. “Try to get your sleep, Gracie. It’s your wedding day tomorrow.”

  Jah. It was. And she wanted to crawl over and curl up in Daed’s arms and ask him all the questions that still whirled in her mind. But she was a grown woman—plus, she needed to take care of Patience.

  Grace pulled her sister into her arms, lay next to her on the pallet of quilts, and held her close until her breathing evened.

  Ich liebe dich, Timothy. Really. That was her last thought before her eyelids closed.

  She woke to Daed shaking her shoulder and holding a lantern. She rubbed her eyes and stared up into his grim face. “Daed?”

  “You need to come upstairs.” His mouth worked as if he wanted to say more, but nothing emerged.

  “Is Timothy here?”

  Daed gulped and shook his head.

  Her breath lodged in her throat. “You’re scaring me.” The words were whispered so she wouldn’t wake her sister and Mamm.

  “Just come.”

  Grace pushed to her feet and followed Daed from the cellar.

  He stopped and pulled open the backdoor. The sun wasn’t even up yet. The sky was
just barely lightening.

  She sucked in a breath.

  The barn was gone.

  The backless benches were gone.

  The buggies and wagons were gone.

  And the big tree with the swing hanging on it lay uprooted across the driveway, the open family buggy perched neatly on top.

  * * *

  Zeke Bontrager pulled his best friend’s transistor radio closer and adjusted the volume.

  The other two men in the loft with him fell silent. They’d spent the night there just in case the mare needed help delivering her new foal. She hadn’t. The foal had been safely born a half an hour ago and was nursing when the men left the stall to try to catch a few hours of sleep in the loft, if they could, with the violent thunderstorm raging outside.

  “A line of severe thunderstorms moved through the region during the overnight and early morning hours. Eleven tornadoes have been confirmed, with widespread straight-line wind damage resulting across much of Illinois and eastward before the storms weakened over northwest Ohio,” the broadcaster’s static-filled voice said.

  “Jah, I heard that Hidden Springs, located near Arthur, Illinois, was really hit hard last night.” His brother Eli picked up his hat from the loft floor and twirled it on his finger. Such a show-off.

  “I wonder if they need help. If they do, maybe we could volunteer,” Zeke said. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to show Daed that he was a hero and not just a goof-off, as Daed was so fond of calling Zeke. He glanced down to the dark barn floor below. How long before people would be up and he could find out about arrangements?

  “I think we should go.” His friend, Hezekiah Esh—better known as Kiah—turned the radio off as it started blaring music with a strong bass beat. “I don’t want my daed to find out about the radio. He’ll take it away and lecture me about how a preacher’s son needs to set a good example, even if he’s on his rumspringa.”

  “Jah, and how will you explain knowing about the tornado?” Eli scoffed.

  Kiah frowned. “Since it just happened…maybe he won’t ask. Chances are he’ll have heard anyway. Just not from a radio.” He shoved the forbidden device farther away and covered it with some loose hay.

  “I agree. We definitely should go.” Zeke stood and brushed the straw off his pants. “I’m sure the Mennonites are already on it. Maybe they’d let us join in.”

  “You’d get to go anyway since you worked search and rescue before.” Eli frowned. “Me, I’d have to ride in on your shirttails if I’m allowed to go at all. My boss threatened my job if I take any more unnecessary time off. And since I have no search-and-rescue experience, he’ll see it as unnecessary.”

  “Your own fault. You’re the one who decided that float trip was more important than work.” Zeke frowned. Eli needed to grow up. Maybe if Zeke was gone for a while, his brother would learn to stand on his own.

  “Hey, it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And you went, too.” Eli swatted him with his hat.

  “As a guide.” Zeke swatted him back. Why did he always resort to such childish behavior around Eli?

  “Boys.” Kiah’s daed stood at the foot of the ladder. “We need to talk.”

  Kiah peered down. “The horse is fine, Daed. We were with her up until a little bit ago. Did something go wrong?”

  “I just peeked in. You did a fine job. It’s not about the mare.”

  Kiah grimaced and kicked more straw at the radio.

  Zeke raised his eyebrows.

  Eli scampered down the ladder first, no doubt because, as he often told Zeke, he was only guilty by association and, therefore, not guilty at all. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” he said when he reached Preacher Thomas.

  “Nein, and you won’t. Go on, now. And put your hat on straight.” The preacher waved him off.

  Eli straightened his hat and trotted out the barn doors. “See you at home, brother. When you get released from your punishment.”

  “Grow up.” Zeke followed Kiah down and then stood silently beside his best friend, his gaze fixed on the ground. There wasn’t any point in confessing to the radio sin until they knew what the preacher wanted. But he couldn’t think what else he might have done.

  “Our brothers in Hidden Springs need us. A couple of vans are leaving in less than an hour. And since you both want to go, you will. But I expect to hear you made a positive difference there and didn’t get into trouble. I also expect you to act like mature young men.”

  Zeke caught his breath. Kiah’s daed had heard their conversation? And he implied he thought they were immature? Okay, maybe they were, but they’d been alone. No girls to impress. No one around to judge. Or so he’d thought.

  “You’ll be assigned to one of three jobs: search and rescue, cleanup, or reconstruction. Possibly all three, depending on the need.”

  Zeke raised his gaze enough to peek at Kiah.

  Kiah’s Adam’s apple jumped. “We’ll be as good as gold, Daed.”

  “And don’t think I don’t know about the radio.”

  * * *

  Grace didn’t know where to start. She mindlessly helped Mamm with breakfast and cleanup, then slipped into her tennis shoes and ran out to find Daed and Jon. It was surprising Timothy hadn’t shown up to check on her and her family yet—or for the wedding, which was supposed to be at eight thirty that morning. Nobody had, for that matter. But maybe word had already gone out that the wedding would be postponed until the next available Thursday, since their barn was gone.

  And maybe Timothy’s family had suffered even greater losses. Should she go check on them? Probably. But she’d have to walk five miles…unless Daed and Jon could lift the buggy off the tree. She’d wait until after lunch. That would give Timothy time to do the protective future-husband thing and check on her first.

  Jon and Daed tossed the remaining rubble off to the side of the place where their barn once stood. There was a mess, but considering everything lost, not that much remained. A shingle or two, broken pieces of boards. A broken hammer—the iron part was there; the wooden handle was missing. The chickens were gone. The hog had been killed. The cows were missing with no word on their fate. And one horse—out of three—wandered around the pasture, none the worse for wear.

  “Can I help?” Grace skidded to a stop beside Daed as he crouched down to gather a handful of nails.

  Daed sighed and pointed toward the haus. “We have some broken windows. Sweep up the glass, and Jon and I will work on getting the glass replaced or the windows boarded up next. Then help your mamm with Patience. She doesn’t handle change well.”

  The understatement of the year. But Grace wanted to be useful. Not just sweeping up glass. Or doing laundry, because if the glass shattered, some might have sprinkled over the bedding.

  Cleanup chores the morning after a tornado was not how she imagined her wedding day. She’d imagined Timothy gazing lovingly into her eyes, touching her hand gently, and whispering sweet nothings. Something that made her feel loved and cherished, even if he’d never treated her that way in…well, ever. He’d been more pragmatic. We’re a good match. And they were. But…was it wrong to want sparks? To want to be with him? To dream of their wedding with longing instead of dread?

  Maybe something would change when they saw each other after this terrible disaster. He’d be more demonstrative. She’d be more receptive.

  She could hope.

  “I thought I’d run over and check on Timothy’s family after lunch, if it’s okay.” Grace glanced at Daed, then toward the end of the driveway.

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t come by yet.” Daed glanced toward the road, too.

  Jon chuckled. “He probably thought to make his escape while the going’s good. At this rate, little sister, I might be married before you.”

  Considering his wedding would be in two weeks, it was probably true. Weddings were held only on Thursday mornings during the fall or in the early spring. She and Timothy might have to wait until next year. But maybe her unrealistic expec
tations for flutters and sparks would fade by then.

  She glanced toward the road again, as if Timothy would come around the corner. Too much to hope for, probably. Though Jon had already gone to check on Aubrey’s family. She glanced at her brother. “Aubrey—”

  “Aubrey and her family are fine; danki for asking. No damages.” Jon smirked.

  Daed frowned. “Be nice, Jonathon.”

  “Sorry, Daed. Sorry, Gracie.”

  Grace sighed. “I’m glad they had no damages.” She caught her breath. Maybe Timothy’s family had more damages than hers. “You passed by Timothy’s place on the way there, though. Are they…?”

  “I didn’t see any damage at their property,” Jon said. “But the road was a mess getting there, and I had to be careful of downed power lines. I ended up cutting through the woods, pastures, and fields, and I didn’t really look too closely at their place.”

  Maybe Timothy hadn’t wanted to make the effort that Jon had to. Timothy did like to take the easy way, and cutting through pastures wouldn’t be as simple as the road. However, if he suffered from prewedding jitters as badly as she, maybe he had made his escape. She might be suffering from doubts and insecurities, but being jilted wasn’t an option. She’d be talked about and teased for days. Weeks. Months. Who knew?

  “Gracie? Gracie, where are you?” Patience called from somewhere inside.

  Grace headed toward the haus.

  Bride Jilted during Tornado.

  Or: Groom Rides Tornado to Freedom.

  Perhaps she spent too much time peeking in The Budget for news.

  But if he had left, she’d what? She had no idea.

  After courting three years, there was no turning back.

  Period.

  Chapter 2

  Zeke climbed out of the van and stretched. It was only about a four-hour drive from Shipshewana, Indiana, to Hidden Springs on the outskirts of Arthur, Illinois, but being cramped into the back seat of an overfull vehicle had taken its toll. At least he’d had plenty of time to pray that he’d somehow be a hero in his daed’s eyes. And they weren’t even there yet. Instead, they were taking a bathroom and refreshment break at a fast-food restaurant.

 

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