Amish Romance BOOK BUNDLE: Marian's Story: Amish Romance Boxed Set (Hollybrook Amish Romance)

by Brenda Maxfield

  Amish Days

  Marian’s Story

  A Three-Story-Bundle Amish Romance

  PLUS a Bonus Story for You!

  by Brenda Maxfield

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder. Copyright © 2016 Tica House Publishing

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  Table of Contents

  1. Story One: The Amish Blogger

  2. Story Two: Missing Mama

  3. Story Three: The Big Freeze

  4. BONUS STORY: Missing Abram

  Amish Days

  The Amish Blogger

  An Amish Romance Short Story

  by Brenda Maxfield

  Copyright © 2015 Tica House Publishing All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  One

  Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

  John 14:27 King James Version

  Marian Yoder stood on the thick bedroom carpet of her new friend Amy Owens. She peered over Amy’s shoulder, mesmerized by what she saw on the screen.

  “You mean you’re having a conversation through the computer?” she asked, in awe.

  “Sure. We do it all the time. It’s the messaging part of Facebook.” Amy pointed to the small box in the corner of the screen. She looked at Marian and grinned. “D’you wanna do it?”

  “Could I?” Marian sank onto the chair beside Amy.

  “No, don’t sit there. Trade seats with me.” Amy got up from her desk and let Marian sit in front of the computer. “I’m talking with my friend Morgan in Chicago.”

  Marian held her fingers over the keyboard. “What do I do?”

  “Just type hello or something. Whatever you want.”

  Marian slowly tapped out the letters h-e-l-l-o. “Now what?”

  “Press enter.”

  Marian did as she was told and watched her message slip from one portion of the box to another. “Did I do it?” She stared at the screen. “Wait! Did I make a mistake?”

  Amy laughed. “No, you didn’t make a mistake.”

  A melodic bling sounded from the computer. “See,” Amy said. “You got a message back.”

  Hello. Who am I talking to?

  Marian giggled. “Do I write back now?”

  “If you want to.”

  She wanted to. Never had Marian seen such a marvel. She’d heard about Facebook once when she was standing in line at Parker’s Ice Cream Shoppe in Hollybrook. Two young teen girls in front of her had jabbered excitedly about how they’d seen some famous band member on Facebook. Marian had thought it was a book full of profiles, perhaps of well-known singers and movie people.

  She’d been wrong.

  Very, very wrong. This was so much better than any book she’d ever seen or read.

  “You sure you aren’t gonna get in trouble?” Amy asked, getting up from her chair and flouncing on her bed with its rich, fluffy purple spread.

  “Nee. It’s my running around time.”

  “Your running around time?”

  “Jah. Rumspringa.” Marian forced her gaze from the screen and looked at Amy. She loved the way Amy’s blond hair fell over her shoulders in gentle curls. Her own blond hair was pulled tightly back in a bun and covered with a kapp.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard of that. Never knew anyone Amish, though, and to be honest, I don’t really get what it means.”

  “It’s a time when we’re given more freedom. You know, before being baptized into the church. That way our decision isn’t only because of family and tradition—it’s personal because we want to obey and follow God. It’s a commitment.”

  Marian turned to focus back on the screen. She typed out another short message. “This is wonderful gut! I love it.”

  “And you can search for any information in the world! Find out anything. You just type the subject into the search engine, and voila! Tons of info at your fingertips.” Amy smoothed her hand over her bedspread. “I also have a blog. You’d probably love that, too.”

  Her curiosity triggered, Marian gazed at Amy. “Teach me,” she said. “Teach me all of it.”

  ****

  By the time Marian returned home that evening, she had her own blog. Amy had helped her set it up on a free site. Marian had learned how to log in and where to put her user name and password. To make sure Marian could do it on her own, Amy had watched her log in and out five times before she was satisfied.

  Marian’s mind raced with the interesting things she could write about. There was even a place for comments on her blog, so Marian could chat with people just like she’d done on Amy’s Facebook page. She rested her back against the smooth staircase railing dreaming of her first post.

  Mamm interrupted her reverie. “Ach, Marian, see to your sister, would you?” Mamm hurried through the front room toward the kitchen. “Where were you so long? I needed you an hour ago.”

  “Sorry, Mamm. I’ll go get Izzie.” Marian took the stairs two at a time to the baby’s room. Little Isabel was hollering and kicking her bare feet, twisting the thin crib quilt around her chubby legs.

  “Izzie, what’s the matter?” Marian asked, scooping up her red-faced sister. Isabel immediately quieted, snuggling into Marian’s shoulder. “Why, Izzie, your face is all wet and your nose is running. You’re getting me all soppy.”

  But Marian didn’t mind. She adored her little sister and was happy to tend to her. She changed Izzie’s diaper and carried her through the upstairs hallway, passing two empty bedrooms—bedrooms her parents had hoped and prayed to fill with a parcel of children. But, to their never-ending sadness, the rooms stood vacant, she and Isabel being their only offspring.

  Not exactly a full house, let alone a parcel of children.

  Marian held Isabel extra close as they went downstairs. She loved the smell of a freshly changed baby. She switched Izzie to her hip and went into the kitchen. Mamm was removing a batch of steaming biscuits from the cook stove.

  “Smells gut,” Marian said. She fetched the butter with her free hand and carried it out to the table.

  She looked around to see Mamm leaning against the doorframe staring at her. “Where were you today?”

  “I went to visit Amy.”

  “That Englisch girl?”

  “Jah, Mamm, that Englisch girl.” Marian felt a flash of irritation at both Mamm’s tone and her question. After all, compared to other girls in rumspringa, her activities were mild. She didn’t even stay out late—she was always home by supper time.

  “I don’t like you cavorting with the Englisch,” Mamm said.

  “I’m hardly cavorting. She’s my friend, and she’s nice. You’d know that if you’d let me invite her over.”

  “Invite who over?” Dat asked, coming through the front room, bringing the smell of the corn fields with him.

  “Hello, Dat,” Marian murmured.

  “The Englisch girl. I don’t like it, Zebadiah. I don’t like it one bit.”

  Dat rubbed his hands together, a gesture he always made when he didn’t have anything to say. Mamm gave h
im an exasperated look, heaved a loud sigh, and turned back to the kitchen.

  “How are my girls?” Dat asked, seemingly ignoring Mamm’s annoyance.

  Isabel held out her arms, and Dat took her from Marian.

  “Spoke with Thomas Groft this afternoon,” Dat said.

  Marian’s eyebrows rose.

  Her father looked at her over the top of Izzie’s fuzzy brown hair. “He came by to talk about the work frolic this Saturday.”

  “Oh?” Marian kept her voice calm.

  “Jah.” Dat hoisted Isabel to his other side. “Think his real reason for coming by was to get a glimpse of you.”

  Marian’s cheeks grew hot. “Nee, I hardly think so, Dat.”

  But she did think so. Thomas had recently offered to give her a ride home one Sunday evening after the youth singing. That meant one thing—he was interested in her. But she had already promised to walk home with Lizzie Bontrager, who was finally old enough to attend the youth singings, so she could hardly agree to Thomas’s invitation.

  But would she have gone with Thomas if she hadn’t promised Lizzie? He was nice and though he wasn’t much taller than Marian, his slim frame gave the appearance of height. And his deep blue eyes had a touch of whimsy in them, as if he was always in a good mood. More than once, she’d purposefully stood near him just to hear him talk and laugh.

  Yes. Yes, she would have gone with him.

  “Thomas Groft is a fine young man,” Dat said, and then he gave a small shrug like it didn’t have much significance.

  But Marian knew her father well. That shrug meant he would be right pleased if she allowed Thomas to court her; in fact, he’s be even more pleased to welcome Thomas into the family as a son-in-law.

  “Supper is ready,” Mamm called.

  Marian went to the table. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, Mamm. I’ll do all the clean-up.”

  Mamm smoothed a few stray strands of hair back under her kapp. Her stern face softened for a moment. “That’d be welcome,” she said. But as soon as the words were uttered, her face stiffened back into its normal tight expression.

  “Supper looks fine,” Dat said, reaching for the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Lydia, after eating, would you like to walk the fields a bit? It’s awful pretty out and the corn has taken off. Marian can watch the baby.”

  Mamm frowned. “I’ve no time to be gallivanting the fields, Zeb. I have to tend to Izzie and red up the kitchen for the breakfast meal.”

  “I can do that for you,” Marian offered.

  Mamm pressed her napkin to her lap. “Nee, I don’t have the time,” she insisted.

  Marian saw a flash of disappointment on Dat’s face, but just as quickly it was gone.

  “All right, Lydia, you tend to your chores, then.”

  For the rest of the meal, Dat was unusually quiet.

  ****

  The Hollybrook Public Library had always been a place of enchantment for Marian. When she was young, her mother would take her and allow her to check out books—books which had been pre-approved by her mother, of course. But no matter, Marian was always delighted to be reading any book. She used to stand in front of the crammed shelves in wonder that one place could house so many amazing adventures.

  When Marian learned the library had computers available for public use, she was beyond eager. The next morning, she hitched up the pony cart and went into town. She knew her new Englisch friend would be there, as Amy volunteered to shelve books most mornings during the summer. So Amy could explain to her all the library’s computer rules. And once Amy told her all she needed to know, Marian would be able to do it on her own. The thought of getting online any time she pleased was more than Marian could comprehend.

  She pulled into the parking lot and hitched her pony to one of the posts the library provided for their Amish patrons. She glanced around. This early, no other Amish folks were there. She breathed a sigh of relief—she wasn’t interested in explaining her computer usage to anyone in the district.

  A bit of guilt squirmed through her stomach, but she resolutely snuffed it out. This was her rumspringa after all. She was allowed.

  Yet still, she felt uneasy as she entered the library and looked for Amy.

  “Marian! Hello!” Amy called, spotting Marian first.

  Marian smiled and waved.

  “Over here,” Amy said, gesturing her over.

  Marian joined her in a lounge area behind the front desk. It was filled with computers, two to a table. Three other people were already working, their eyes intent on their screens.

  “I assume you came to work on your blog. Come over here, and let’s use this computer,” Amy suggested. She pulled a chair from another spot, so they could both be in front of the same computer. “Did you bring your library card?”

  “I did, but I haven’t used it in a while. Do you think it’ll still work?”

  “One way to find out.” Amy moved the mouse, and the screen came alive. “You have to put in your number right here, then you’ll be able to go online. There’s an hour limit, but if you ask the librarian, she might extend it for you.”

  Marian pulled her card from her hand bag and punched in the number. When she hit enter, the screen opened to the library’s website.

  “You’re in!” Amy said.

  “How do I get to my blog?”

  “Remember what I showed you. Type the URL address here.”

  Within minutes, Marian was on her blog, staring at a blank post.

  “I’ll leave you alone. Go ahead and write.” Amy rolled her chair to another free computer, leaving Marian to her own devices.

  Marian’s pulse raced as she wrote a short piece about her experience with a stubborn goat named Bill. She was grinning widely when she finished. “Okay, I’m done.”

  Amy rolled back over and read through her post, laughing. “This is good, Marian. Now, we’re going to put in some search terms so someone besides me will read it.”

  Amy taught her how to put in the terms and then Marian pressed Post.

  “Congratulations,” Amy said. “You are now a blogger.”

  Marian giggled. “Sounds funny, but I love the title just the same. Marian Yoder, the Amish Blogger. Thank you, Amy.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Marian glanced again at her post and felt a sense of elated satisfaction. She’d always loved to write, but never had she imagined something like this would be possible.

  “Hey, Owens!”

  Marian turned to see who was calling for Amy. A tall athletic-looking guy came toward them, sporting a wide smile. His arms were bare and though she chided herself for it, Marian couldn’t help but notice how muscular he was. His gray sleeveless T-shirt hung loosely over knee-length shorts. His flip flops made sharp snapping noises as he approached.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. He grabbed a chair, twirled it around backwards, and straddled it.

  “Hey, Roger. Finished shelving my quota for the day, so we’re just messing around. What are you doing?”

  “Summer reading list for my college lit class. Looking to check the books out instead of buying them all.” He shook his head. “Good thing I like to read. Otherwise, I might be miffed about so much work.”

  He leveled clear green eyes on Marian. “Who are you?” he asked.

  Marian felt the heat rise to her face. “My name is Marian.”

  He pointed back and forth between her and Amy. “How do you two know each other?”

  Amy grabbed his finger and laughed. “Pointing’s rude.”

  He gave her a playful nudge with his other hand. “Sorry, your royal highness.” His face sobered. “But seriously, how did you meet?”

  “Marian was sitting and minding her own business outside the Feed & Supply. Dad had sent me because he’d heard dog food was cheaper there—which it is, by the way. Anyway, I saw Marian and I plopped myself down, and we got to know each other.”

  Marian smiled at Amy’s retelling of their first meeting.

&
nbsp; Roger scratched his head. “But you’re Amish,” he said to Marian.

  In spite of his innocent look, Marian stiffened.

  He held up his hands. “No, no. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just that you’re sitting at a computer, and I thought that was forbidden.”

  Before Marian could reply, he went on.

  “Oh, man. Sorry. It’s not even my business. Forget it.”

  “It’s all right,” Marian said. Her irritation faded as quickly as it had come. She was drawn to Roger’s humble spirit and warm expression. “I’m in my running about time, so it’s all right.”

  “You mean rumspringa?” he asked.

  “You know what it’s called?” She was impressed.

  He peered over her shoulder. “So what are you working on?”

  “She’s a blogger,” Amy said with a grin.

  “You’ve got a blog? No fooling?”

  “I’ve only typed one post. But it was fun.” Marian was surprised at how easily she chatted with this stranger. And a male on top of that. Had becoming friends with Amy opened the door to feeling a bit more comfortable with other Englischers?

  “Give me your address, and I’ll visit you,” he said.

  Marian’s eyes went huge. Mamm and Dat would have a conniption if he came to visit her. With a start, she realized he meant her web address. He had no intention of visiting her for real. Hastily, she wrote down her URL, using a piece of square white paper and one of the stubby eraser-less pencils the library had sitting out on every flat surface.

  Roger glanced at what she had written and then tucked the paper into his pocket. He stood and flipped the chair back around. “Well, I’ll see you ladies later. I have some major reading to do.”

  And with that, he was gone. Marian stared after him, watching his easy stride as he moved through the library.

  Amy began tsk, tsk-ing. “I think someone likes Roger,” she said.

  Marian balked. “Me? Nee!”

  “It’s okay if you do.”

  “But it’s not.” Marian stood, her chair rolling back on the carpet. “It’s not all right at all. I need to go home now, anyway.”