Amish Days: Coming Home: A Hollybrook Amish Romance (Rhoda's Story Book 3)

by Brenda Maxfield

  Then, he really gave me a funny look.

  “Perhaps, I should go on a diet.”

  “A diet?” he asked. He glanced over my body. “I don’t see the need. That’s a bit worldly, isn’t it?”

  I shrugged and then took his hand and led him across the hall into an empty bedroom.

  “This room looks so lonely.”

  He gazed at me. “We don’t have the money to put anything in here right now. Perhaps, Dat will make us something in the future.”

  I tapped my chin with my finger as if deep in thought. “Jah. That’s a nice idea.” I walked to the far wall where a window looked out over the orchard. “This is a nice space for a bed.”

  “Not there. A bed wouldn’t fit.” He gestured to another wall. “A bed against that wall would look right nice.”

  “Nee. I like this wall.”

  “A bed wouldn’t fit, Rhoda.”

  “A tiny one would.” I blinked at him.

  He went still. His brow furrowed, and he stared at me. I tried to hold a solemn face, but I couldn’t do it. I began to giggle. His eyes widened, and he stepped to me.

  “Rhoda?” His eyes were full of hope.

  I nodded. He grabbed me up and twirled me about the room.

  “It’s true then?” he asked, a goofy smile on his face.

  “It’s true. Old Mae confirmed it.” I couldn’t stop giggling.

  “Ach, Rhoda. I’m so happy.” He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.

  When we came up for air, I looked at him with tears in my eyes. “If it’s a girl, can we name her Winnie?”

  He smiled at me—that smile of his that warms my entire insides. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said.

  Continue Reading…

  Thank you for reading Coming Home! Have you read the first two romances of Rhoda’s Story? If not, you can find them here:

  The Amish Beekeeper: Rhoda’s Story #1

  The Accident: Rhoda’s Story #2

  If you have read the first two stories, are you wondering what to read next? Why not read The Forbidden Baby? Here’s a sample for you:

  Annie glared at her sister. “What were you thinking, Sarah?”

  “None of your business!” Sarah snapped back. “And I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of my doings!”

  “You’re my little sister,” Annie said, forcing her voice into a more pleasant tone. “I care about you.”

  Sarah wadded up her pair of jeans and crammed them into her shoulder bag. “You don’t need to be telling Mamm and Dat everything, neither!”

  “Please, don’t go out tonight. Stay in with me and Amos. We can play board games. You used to like that fine.”

  Sarah rolled her large brown eyes. “Board games! It’s Friday night, and I’m going out. Ain’t nothing you can say about it, either. This is my running about time, and I don’t plan to waste it.”

  Annie decided to try another tact. “I remember my rumspringa,” she said with a smile. “It was right fun to stay out late.”

  “Stay out late?” Sarah shook her head with disgust. “Now there’s a real rebellion if I ever heard tell.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Staying out late ain’t anything. I’m talking about real freedom.” Her eyes lit up, and she grabbed Annie’s arms. “I like the Englisch. All our lives we’ve been taught to fear them and ignore them and avoid them. But it ain’t so!”

  Annie looked into her sister’s gleeful face, and her heart sank.

  “They’re nice. Right nice, Annie. And I aim to spend as much time as I can with them.”

  “But their ways aren’t ours,” Annie said.

  “They’re going to be mine as long as I’m in rumspringa.” And with that, Sarah swirled away from Annie and dashed out the door.

  Annie stared after her, a feeling of impending doom filling her heart. Sarah had always been the daring one of the family. Always. Even as a little girl, she’d attempted things Annie wouldn’t have considered. More than once, she’d talked her sister out of some foolish prank or another. But now? Now, it was out of her control.

  She picked up her pile of mending and sat in the rocker that was pushed close to the hearth. The early fall days were chilly, and Annie often felt the cold more than most. She stuck the needle through her husband’s thick sock and began to darn the large hole he’d worn through the heel.

  She glanced down at the large braided rug at her feet. She and Mamm had put that rug together two winters ago. They’d laughed and dreamed of the time when Annie and Amos would have a handful of little bopplis playing on it. Annie had even shared what she planned to name her first girl and her first boy. Ruth Marie and Paul Levi, they were to be.

  Two winters ago.

  But the rug remained empty. There were no bopplis playing happily at her feet. There were no bopplis to tend. There were no bopplis to name.

  The familiar sharp ache pricked at Annie’s heart, and her eyes filled with tears. She blinked and wiped at them with impatience. Enough. The Lord God was in control and if He saw her fit to be a mother, He’d give her a child. It wasn’t her place to question Him.

  Or to be angry with Him.

  Instant shame filled Annie’s heart, and she thrust the needle harshly into Amos’s sock, nicking the edge of her finger. She looked down to see a bubble of blood burst forth. Quickly, she stuck her finger in her mouth, and the metallic taste covered her tongue.

  Would it never end? Would she never come to a place of acceptance? Would she never be all right with having no children?

  She stood abruptly and let her mending fall to the floor. She moved to the front window of the daadi haus she shared with her husband. Living there behind her parent’s main house was a blessing. Amos’s fledgling furniture business wasn’t making much money yet, so living rent-free made things much more comfortable for them.

  Her dat wasn’t thrilled with Amos’s career choice, feeling that all Amish should work the land. Land was a gift from God, after all, and a person was closer to God when he had his hands in the dirt.

  Annie shook her head. Farmers needed heirs. And lots of them. Farming took a passel of workers so it was a good thing Amos had chosen woodworking because she surely wasn’t going to provide any young farmers for him.

  Her lips tightened, and she clenched the linen curtain at the side of the window. She had to stop. Gazing outside, she saw Amos had arrived for the noon meal that was warming on the cook stove. He stomped his heavy black shoes on the wooden porch before opening the front door. A swirl of cool fall air followed him in, making Annie shiver.

  “Smells gut in here,” he said. He sloughed out of his coat and hung it on a peg by the door. He turned to Annie and smiled. “What’s for dinner?”

  Annie ran her hands down her apron and bustled toward the kitchen at the end of the front room. “Meat loaf and potatoes for starters.”

  She looked back over her shoulder and saw that Amos was standing motionless, studying her. “Wait,” he said.

  She recognized his pensive voice and braced herself for what was to come.

  “You were thinking about it again, weren’t you?” he asked.

  She shuddered and made a show of shaking her head. “Ach, Amos, now don’t you distract me. I’ve got a dinner to get on the table.” She grabbed up two hot pads.

  In four strides, he was across the room, his hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face him. “I see it in your eyes.”

  She looked down, willing herself not to cry.

  “Look at me, Annie.”

  Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his.

  “You’ve got to quit it now.” He brushed his finger beneath her eye, gently wiping away a telling tear. “The Lord Gott will provide a child in His own timing.”

  She bit her bottom lip. Her husband was right. She knew it, but it didn’t stop the overwhelming longing that filled her to the point of trembling every day. She sucked in air and nodded her head.

 
; “Oh, Annie,” he said gruffly, pulling her to his chest. His arms circled her, and he rested his bearded chin on her head. “Annie, I love you, you know.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, still clenching the hot pads. She did know. And that fact kept her going when sorrow threatened to engulf her.

  She sniffed and stiffened. “I’ll get your dinner on the table now,” she said.

  “You do that.”

  ****

  Early the next morning, Mamm stopped over.

  “Mamm, what are you doing out? With those sniffles, you ought to be staying inside.”

  Mamm pushed her way into the daadi haus. “Sniffles aren’t nothing,” she said in her matter-of-fact voice. She marched directly to one of the two rocking chairs situated in front of the fire and sat down.

  Annie tossed down the dishtowel she was carrying and sat in the other. “What brings you out so early, then? I know it’s your cleaning day.”

  “Sarah.” Mamm gripped the two arms of the chair and commenced rocking. Hard.

  Instant fear grabbed Annie’s heart. “What’s happened? What’s she done?”

  Mamm’s watery blue eyes stared into hers. “What hasn’t the girl done? I want to call a stop to this rumspringa business.”

  “Mamm, you can’t do that. It will make it worse.”

  Mamm stopped rocking and leaned forward. “It can’t be worse than it is.”

  “What’s she done?”

  “I don’t know what all that girl’s got up to. She didn’t come home till three in the morning. And I heard a car screech off, so I know she was with them Englisch.”

  “Mamm, all the Englisch aren’t bad folks.”

  “I know that!” Mamm snapped. “But the ones she’s cavorting with sure are.”

  “Being out late isn’t so bad in itself,” Annie said, realizing her words were lame and wouldn’t carry much comfort.

  “My experience tells me otherwise. Remember that young Abram girl? She was out till all hours, and one day never came back at all.” There was a raw fear in her mother’s voice that made Annie’s stomach tighten.

  “But this is our Sarah we’re talking about. She’s got a good head on her, Mamm.”

  Mamm stared at Annie. “Nee, daughter. She doesn’t. You know it, and I know it.”

  Annie blew out her breath and sank back in her rocker. Mamm was right. Sarah didn’t have a good head on her. She was flighty and foolish, and her behavior would come to no good end.

  Mamm glanced about the front room. “I still have a parcel of cukes I want to make into pickles. Can I count on your help?”

  “Of course.”

  The older woman stood, wavering only slightly. “Fine. We’ll tackle it this afternoon. You and Amos can come for the noon meal. Will that suit?”

  “Jah, Mamm. That will suit just fine.”

  She showed her mother to the door and stood watching her as she left. Mamm had birthed four children and buried one. She was a strong woman, but right then, observing her, Annie noticed that her back wasn’t as straight as it had once been. And her shoulders were hunched. Annie shivered. Mamm was getting old. And what with Sarah’s hijinks, she was likely getting older by the minute.

  She shut the door and returned to her kitchen. Maybe she should try to talk with Sarah again. They used to be close. Before marrying Amos, she’d shared everything with Sarah. They were like “two peas in a pod” Dat had always said. But then she’d gotten married. And their brother James had died in a tragic accident with a plow. With those two events, life had changed irrevocably. Sarah had changed. Once a sweet, if somewhat adventurous child, she’d morphed into a rebellious questioner of everything.

  She’d flagrantly questioned the ordnung, And their Dat. And God. And now, she was taking her rumspringa as far as it would stretch.

  Annie heard a thump on the door, and Sarah called to her. Annie wondered if her thoughts had summoned Sarah, and she hurried to let her sister in.

  Sarah nearly fell into the front room. Her kapp was askew and there were black shadows beneath her eyes. She wove her way to the rocker and plopped herself down.

  She held up her hand. “Don’t tell me! I already know. Mamm’s been over here gossiping about me.”

  Annie looked at her sister. “Not gossiping. Just concerned.”

  “She can’t stand it that I’m having fun.”

  Annie pursed her lips but forced herself to use a light tone. “Are you having fun?”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes until they were dark slits. “Of course! What’d you think?”

  “Would you like some tea?” Annie asked. She moved to the cook stove and set the kettle of water on. “Chamomile be all right?”

  “Why not?” Sarah leaned back in the chair and shut her eyes.

  Annie fussed with the tea and cups, waiting for the kettle to whistle. When it did, she poured the steaming water into two cups and nudged her sister awake to give her one of them.

  Sarah slurped her drink and then let out her breath. “Tastes right gut. Thank you, Annie.”

  “So what did you do last night?”

  Sarah’s cheeks went bright pink, and she paused before answering. “I was with the most wonderful boy. His name is Eric.”

  “Is he Englisch?”

  Sarah’s gaze flew to Annie’s. “Of course, he’s Englisch. How many Amish do you know who go to Powter’s Point?”

  “Powter’s Point?” Annie asked, already dreading the answer.

  “Kids hang out there. And there’s a concession stand. In a trailer. You should see it, Annie! They’ve got a whole kitchen inside of this trailer. No bigger than a carriage, I’d say. And you can order food right out of it.” She smiled and took another sip of tea. “Eric bought me a hamburger and sliced potatoes. French fries. You remember—we had them before when we went to Ohio to visit Aenti.”

  Annie remembered the French fries well. But they were hardly what she was thinking about. “So, you were with Eric. Anyone else?”

  Sarah inhaled the steam from her tea. “Sure. There were about seven of us. But me and Eric were mostly together.” Again, her face flushed. “I love those French fries. You know they’re fried and full of salt. Hmm. I wonder whether they’ll ruin my figure.” She giggled.

  Ruin her figure?

  Annie balked. Since when did any of them worry about their figures? Was an Englisch person inhabiting Sarah’s brain now?

  Calm. Stay calm. Don’t antagonize her…

  “I see,” Annie said, taking a sip of tea. She relished the hot liquid as it burned down her throat. She sent up a quick prayer, asking for wisdom in what to say and how to say it.

  Sarah leaned forward in her chair, her face alive, and all traces of shadows gone from beneath her eyes. “You can’t believe what’s out there, Annie!” she said, her voice climbing in pitch. “You just can’t believe it!”

  “Out there?” Annie repeated.

  Sarah threw out her arms. “In the world! In the real world!”

  “What’s not real in our world?” Annie asked, irritation rising through her. She took a deep steadying breath. Getting upset wasn’t going to help anything.

  “You know what I mean,” Sarah said, frowning. Then she smiled again. “It’s wonderful out there. All the things to do. I love it, Annie.”

  Annie swallowed. “Do you?”

  Sarah’s face darkened. “I know I’m not supposed to. But I do. And I love Eric.” Again, her face turned red, and her hands rested against her stomach.

  “You love him?”

  Sarah nodded. “And it’s real love, too. Not like that silly crush I used to have on Joseph Yoder. Not like that at all.”

  Annie liked Joseph Yoder. He was a sweet young man who was already well on his way to becoming a fine farmer. And Joseph loved Sarah. That was for sure and for certain. Annie knew he continued to ask Sarah to the youth singings, but ever since her rumspringa, Sarah refused to go. She wondered whether Joseph knew about Eric.

  “Eric is so
exciting. And you know what? He has his own car and everything. He told me he’d teach me to drive.”

  “You? Drive?”

  “Sure, why not? I’m old enough, you know. Eric said he’d take me on the back roads and teach me. I can’t wait!”

  “I don’t think Dat will want you driving an automobile.”

  Sarah shrugged. “So what? This is my time.”

  Annie bit her lip and studied her sister. She was like a wild cat, running up every tree in her path to see how long she could balance on the highest branch.

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  Turn the page to discover more Amish Romances just for you!

  More Hollybrook Amish Romances for You

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  People consider Rhoda Hilty an established spinster, which never bothered her—until Aaron Raber comes to town. When he approaches her to rent her beehives for his struggling orchard, Rhoda’s world turns upside down. But how can she be interested in him when she’s so busy caring for her aging senile mother? Besides … Aaron’s interest in her is strictly business. Isn’t it?

  Rhoda’s Story #2: The Accident!

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  Faith’s Story #1: The Adoption!

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