A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  “I’m going to sew all the patches into a beautiful quilt,” she said. “It will be a way to remember my family when I’m away from you.” Her throat grew thick with emotion again until the doctor interrupted.

  “A family quilt.” Dr. Trueherz nodded. “That’s a wonderful idea, Sadie.”

  “Coming from Sadie, it sure is a surprise.” Jonah grinned at her, amused by his patch with a puzzle piece sewn on. “Especially because you always hated quilting. As I remember, you used to say that quilting was slower than watching paint dry.”

  “Did I say that?” Sadie grinned. “I guess this tells you how boring a tour can be.”

  “Mine is a house?” Adam scratched his chin.

  “Because you’re the head of the household,” Sadie explained, “and a carpenter, too. At least, a carpenter at heart.”

  He fingered the patch, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I think your quilt is a very good idea, but unusual.”

  “It’s not an Amish quilt,” Sadie said, “not a traditional one.”

  It will be sort of like me, she thought, taking a welcome breath.

  “We all want to see it when it’s done,” Adam said, handing her the patch.

  “Just as we want to see you whenever you can make it back to us,” Remy added.

  “Promise to visit whenever you can,” Susie said.

  “And bring books,” Leah added.

  “I promise.” Sadie nodded as she tucked bits of fabric into the bag.

  “I don’t know what the bishop will decide.” Adam’s voice revealed his concern. “But we’ll weather that storm when it comes. We’ll always be your family.”

  “And we’ll always love you,” Remy said.

  “Oh, I miss you already!” Ruthie threw her arms around Sadie’s waist and squeezed tight.

  Patting Ruthie’s back, Sadie let her eyes sweep the faces of her brothers and sisters, from Mary, blinking back tears, to little Katie, whose brows were knit in awe of the serious moment.

  How she loved them, each and every one!

  She let her eyes travel over the barn and silo to the gently sloping hills. She fixed her gaze on the birdhouse they had made a few months ago. Everyone had pitched in with the building and painting, and it now stood tall on a spit of grass, sunlight glinting off the roof tiles. “The city suits me well, but I’ve always felt safe on this farm. Dat made sure it was a safe place for all God’s creatures. I didn’t realize just how wonderful good my home was until I traveled away from home.”

  Adam nodded, and she read something new in his dark eyes.

  Understanding.

  “Our farm is still a haven. We keep Gott’s peace here. And, Gott willing, it will be a safe place for you to return. Even if it’s only for a visit.”

  The sky was a swirl of pink and purple cottony clouds over the patchwork of fields as Sadie and Mike headed up the lane in his blue Ford.

  “Do you want to hear some tunes?” he asked, reaching for the radio.

  She held up a hand. “Not just yet.” When the car pulled onto the paved road, she turned to face the farm, taking a moment to memorize the familiar peaks of the farmhouse roof, the barns and outbuildings, the silos, and the three buggies lined up in front of the barn. She wanted to remember the home of her childhood exactly as it was.

  With a sigh, she shifted in the seat and faced forward, looking toward the future.

  “Will you sing with me, Mike? Let’s sing in that harmony that’s so beautiful.”

  “Sure. ‘Be Thou My Vision’?”

  She nodded, took a breath, and began the first song of her new life. Country air blew in through the open windows and their song traveled out over the fields as the car glided down the sloping hill.

  Mike shot her a smile as they finished the first verse, and she felt pure joy bubble inside her at the wonderful journey ahead. The home of her youth was behind her now, and she was on a steady path toward the home of her heart.

  A heart bursting with love and joy and God’s plentiful blessings.

  In memory of my grandmother,

  Frances Witker Lauer,

  who followed the song in her heart,

  attending college in an era when few women

  dared to leave the kitchen.

  Her fondness for the English language,

  her passion for travel,

  and her love for her family live on today,

  along with the recipe for the best tart green apple pie

  I’ve ever tasted.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To Dr. Violet Dutcher, who helped me navigate everything from unzufriede to the unspoken rules of Amish culture, I am in awe of your understanding and appreciation of the Amish community. It is only with your help that I’m able to write an authentic representation of Amish life. All that experience and an excellent eye for detail and story—Vi, you are a gem!

  You can’t find a better editor than Junessa Viloria! Thank you for cheering for my characters and helping me push them to enact stories with drama, humor, and heart. Your compassion comes through in your editing, and I hope it’s well-woven throughout this book.

  To the wonderful good staff at Random House, including Junessa Viloria, Jane von Mehren, Melissa Possick, Sonya Safro, and Loren Noveck: You have made me feel that this book is in very capable hands. It warms my heart to be on such a talented, bright team.

  To my agent Robin Rue, thanks for staying one step ahead. It’s great to know that help is only an email away.

  And to my family, who have learned to weather the quirks and extremes of having a writer in the house, thanks for sharing the love. And by the way, I haven’t had a chance to make dinner tonight.…

  BY ROSALIND LAUER

  A Simple Winter

  A Simple Spring

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ROSALIND LAUER grew up in a large family in Maryland and began visiting Lancaster County’s Amish community as a child. She attended Wagner College in New York City and worked as an editor for Simon & Schuster and Harlequin Books. She currently lives with her family in Oregon, where she writes in the shade of some towering two-hundred-year-old Douglas fir trees.

  Read on for an exciting preview of

  A

  Simple Autumn

  the next Seasons of Lancaster novel

  by Rosalind Lauer

  ONE

  September

  A lull covered the congregation like a warm blanket. The preacher had been talking about faith for so long that his voice was now a gentle hum in the back of Jonah’s mind.

  Now was the time.

  Jonah King knew that church wasn’t meant for ogling people, but it wasn’t often these days that he was under the same roof with Annie Stoltzfus. He turned his head just a few inches, to find her among the women seated on the other side of the barn.

  There she was.…

  Her face was framed by golden hair twisted back and tucked under her kapp. Jonah imagined that her hair would be as soft as corn silk, her skin as smooth as a vat of milk.…

  Her blue eyes flashed like lightning and he looked away quickly. All it took was one quick look to get hope frolicking in his chest like a playful pup. Ya, he had it bad. Here he was, a grown man, and his heart got to racing at the sight of a girl.

  But there had always been something special about Annie. One flicker of her blue eyes and he was reminded of the summer sky and cornflowers smiling up from a green field. The spark of life behind those eyes—the spirit and humor that made people want to be with Annie—that was the thing that pulled him to her time and again.

  Of course, he never spoke about it. No one in his family knew that Annie Stoltzfus had hooked him, ever since they were kids playing on the frozen pond.

  How many years had he watched her and waited, hoping she’d notice him? They had learned their lessons together in the one-room schoolhouse, and when they were children she’d come to their house countless times to visit with his sister Mary.

  And all those years
, she only had eyes for Jonah’s brother Adam. Ya, Adam had been the name on Annie’s lips. She’d baked many a pie for him, and she’d fretted about him when he went away during his rumspringa.

  Jonah glanced to his left, where Adam sat with that squinty-eyed look he got when he was thinking. Adam surely had a lot to think about. He was now the head of their family of eleven, a big responsibility for a man so young. Everyone knew Annie had thought she and Adam would be wed by now.

  But Adam had chosen to marry someone else, an Englisher girl with a yearning for a loving family and a heart big enough to help him raise the King children here in Halfway. Now that Adam was out of the running, Jonah wondered if Annie would finally see him in a new light. The Bible said that there was a time for every purpose under heaven. Maybe fall was the season that Gott might answer his prayers and plant a seed of love in Annie’s heart.

  He could always hope—nothing wrong with that.

  Jonah turned his attention back to Preacher Dave, who was still talking about the Bible passage “Judge not that ye be not judged.”

  “Judgment is a chore for the Heavenly Father to take care of,” Dave was saying. “It’s not our task to look at our neighbor, our brother or sister, and judge them. Isn’t that a wonderful thing? One less chore on my list for the day. We must let Gott be the judge. It’s not our place to look to the man or woman beside us and decide whether the things they do are right or wrong.…”

  Jonah straightened on the wooden bench, pressing his hands flat on his thighs. As his palms brushed the coarse broadcloth of his good Sunday trousers he saw the powerful truth in Preacher Dave’s sermon. Of course, everyone knew they shouldn’t judge their neighbor. It was a lesson taught among the Amish all the time. Jonah took a deep breath, wishing folks could take it to heart and stop passing judgment on him and his brothers and sisters.

  The congregation seemed equally restless. Someone coughed. Little Matthew Eicher came toddling toward the men’s section, crossing from his mother to his father. A child fussed in the women’s section, and in front of him the Zook boys nudged each other.

  Everyone’s itching to file out of the barn and catch the tail end of summer, Jonah thought as he let his eyes follow the dancing specks of dust glimmering in a shaft of sunlight from the haymow.

  It was a fine September morning, one of those days that wasn’t sure whether it wanted to hold on to summer’s heat or let the trees and barns begin to cool from the breeze sweeping over the hills. The morning had been crisp and cold, but now, with so many people filling the barn, there was enough body heat to bring to mind a summer day.

  Rubbing his clean-shaven chin, Jonah frowned as the Zook boys stirred again.

  Eli Zook leaned in to his younger brother John and whispered in his ear. John was Jonah’s brother Simon’s age, nine or so, and Eli had all the vinegar of a boy pushing into the teen years. John shook his head, and his older brother grabbed his upper arm and gave a pinch. That brought a glare from their father, Abe. Young Eli was a bit of a bully; Jonah had seen him put the squeeze on Simon in the past, but the boy’s mischief usually went unchecked. Even now, none of the other men sitting nearby was paying him any mind.

  The weight of Simon sinking against him told Jonah that the boy was falling asleep. Jonah slid an arm around his brother’s shoulders, boosting him up.

  Simon’s heavy lids lifted.

  Can’t let the boy doze off during Preacher Dave’s sermon, Jonah thought as his younger brother looked up at him with sleepy eyes, then took a deep breath.

  Big John Eicher watched from the bench off to the side. And Jonah noticed that Big John wasn’t the only one. Other men had their eyes on him and his brothers.

  Always watching. And judging? Even though the preacher had hammered away at them not to judge, Jonah felt disapproval heavy on his shoulders.

  A cloak of self-consciousness had hung over the King family these past two years. When their parents were killed, people had rallied to give them support. Casseroles and baked goods had appeared on their table and jars of beets and peaches had stocked their pantry. Nearby Amish families had invited the younger children over after school to distract them from their grief and give the older family members like Jonah, Adam, and Mary time to get the household chores done. Neighbors had helped with the spring tilling and planting. The whole community had turned out to raise the new milking barn.

  The good folks of Halfway, Amish and Englisher, had been more than generous with their help during the Kings’ time of need. But the farm was running smoothly now, better than ever with the new automatic milking equipment and the larger herd. Thanks to Gott, the family no longer needed assistance. Jonah had been relieved when folks were able to start greeting him without the veil of pity over their eyes.

  And just when things seemed to settle back to an even pace, Remy McCallister, Adam’s Englisher girl, had come along and turned everyone’s heads again. And then there was sister Sadie leaving home for her rumspringa, going off and singing with a group of Englisher musicians. He suspected tongues were still wagging over the King family.

  Jonah didn’t like the extra attention. It was like a splinter stuck under the skin. The skin healed over it, but the dull ache lingered. That was the problem now with his family. So many folks saw the Kings as different from other Amish families, and it wasn’t going to change anytime soon, with Adam about to marry an Englisher girl, an aussenseiter. Ya, Remy was working hard to learn their ways, but good and kind though she was, she was still Englisher inside.

  As one of the other ministers spoke about the evils of gossip that came from judging others, Jonah spoke a silent prayer in his heart. Gott knew that the Kings were a good, obedient family that followed the Ordnung. If only the people here could see that. “Help them see us with fair and honest eyes.”

  TWO

  After the service, Jonah pitched in with the other men to move the benches from the barn to the tables that had been set up for the light lunch. The weather was holding, so the meal would be taken at tables outside in the sunshine.

  “Right over there,” one of the older women instructed as Jonah and his brother Gabe toted a long wooden bench. “Over by the beech trees. They’re in need of benches over there.”

  Jonah and Gabe followed her directions, clearing the crowd outside the barn and maneuvering around the rows of parked carriages.

  “Just put it over there in the state of Ohio,” Gabe said wryly as they traipsed through the grass toward three portable tables on the lawn.

  Jonah grinned. His brother wasn’t a big talker, but when he spoke his words were pointed. “Not that far,” Jonah said. “Just carry it in to Bird-in-Hand.” Usually the tables were grouped in one spot, but the layout of the Eichers’ yard didn’t allow that, especially with the many carriages and buggies parked there today.

  When Jonah saw Annie over at one of the tables with his sister Mary, his fingers nearly lost their grip on the bench.

  This would be a good chance to talk to her. Some smart comment would be good. Something funny to make her laugh. Annie’s laugh made everyone smile.

  But what could he say? Talking with girls had never been his strength. He kept quiet, and Annie didn’t pay any mind to Gabe and him.

  “They’ve already started packing,” Annie said as she set each place with a knife, cup, and saucer. Mary followed her down the table, pouring water into each cup. “They’ll be staying with Perry’s uncle till they get on their feet. It’s an Old Order Amish group in upstate New York.”

  “Annie, what will you do without your sister?” Mary asked sympathetically.

  “And little Mark,” Annie added.

  From his time spent doing repairs at the Stoltzfus house, Jonah knew Annie was attached to her nephews Mark and Levi. Mark was just a toddler, but Levi was around brother Sam’s age—a time when small chores could be turned into play.

  “It breaks my heart to see them packing up their little family,” Annie said.

  Jonah kept his
eyes on the bench as he drank in the conversation. So Perry and Sarah Fisher were moving to New York. He’d heard some talk of Perry pursuing an opportunity down in Maryland, but wasn’t sure the young family would be willing to pick up and leave Halfway.

  “I’m going to miss them so much.” Annie’s voice was laced with sadness. “But Sarah says I should come join them after they’re settled.”

  A chill curled up Jonah’s spine. Would Annie really think of leaving?

  “Annie, no!” Mary gave voice to his concern. “Could you just up and leave us in the blink of an eye?”

  “It wouldn’t be all that soon, and …” Annie’s voice broke off as she noticed Gabe and Jonah nearby. “Anyway, let’s finish up here so we can help Lizbeth with the second shift.”

  Jonah lowered the bench and straightened. He kept his eyes on the ground, knowing anyone would see his worries in them. Annie couldn’t leave Halfway. She wouldn’t.

  “Come on.” Gabe clapped a hand on his back and gave him a shake. “The sooner these tables get set up, the sooner we can eat. And the way I’m feeling, I could tuck away half the church spread.”

  As he followed Gabe, Jonah turned back to steal a look at Annie. She was talking with Mary again, the two of them close enough for private words. Jonah lifted his straw hat to rake back his dark hair.

  A few overheard words from Annie and his heart had clouded over.

  Was Annie really going to leave Halfway?

  He was plodding back to the barn when he heard someone calling to him.

  “Jonah? Jonah King. Come.”

  He glanced up and saw two bearded men beckoning him from the porch. Uncle Nate stood beside a squat man with black eyeglasses—Jacob Yoder.

  Squaring his shoulders, Jonah tamped down his worries and climbed the porch steps. “The sunshine is back,” he said, tipping his hat.