Naomi's Hope

by Jan Drexler

  © 2017 by Jan Drexler

  Published by Revell

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.revellbooks.com

  Ebook edition created 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4934-0721-7

  Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Scripture quotations labeled ESV are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ESV Text Edition: 2011

  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.

  The author is represented by WordServe Literary Group.

  Praise for Hannah’s Choice

  “The story will leave fans wanting more. Drexler weaves a beautiful storyline, and her research makes it shine.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Set in mid-1800s, Drexler’s historical fiction, based on her ancestors’ family lines, has intriguing plots of romance, love, grief, forgiveness, and restoration.”

  —CBA Retailers + Resources

  “With a tender hand, Jan Drexler teases out the threads of a romance that will captivate readers in this brand-new Amish historical series.”

  —Family Fiction

  “Once again author Jan Drexler has written a heartfelt romance that will leave her avid readers looking forward to the next titles in her new Journey to Pleasant Prairie Amish historical series.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Praise for Mattie’s Pledge

  “Fans of Amish fiction will enjoy Drexler’s tale of striking out in the wild unknown.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A great historical Amish novel with characters who are willing to uproot their family for a better life and more opportunities.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Those who love stories about the Amish, a good historical novel, or a sweet romance will enjoy Mattie’s Pledge.”

  —Read-Write-Life blog

  To my children:

  Jacob, Carrie, Benjamin, and Michael.

  Through you, I learned what it means to be a mother.

  Soli Deo Gloria

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Endorsements

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Jan Drexler

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

  1 Peter 1:6–9 ESV

  1

  LAGRANGE COUNTY, INDIANA

  APRIL 1846

  “Davey!”

  Only the echoing chop of a felling ax answered Naomi Schrock’s call. The new neighbor to their north must be working. Daed had said someone had bought the last quarter section still remaining between their land at the edge of the Haw Patch and the marshes surrounding the Little Elkhart River.

  Naomi shaded her eyes against the setting sun. The late afternoon light was bright, a last burning gasp before night fell. Where was that boy?

  “Davey!”

  He must be out of hearing distance again, but which direction had he gone this time? The regular chop-chop of the ax drew her attention, just as it would have drawn Davey’s curious mind. Gathering her skirts in her hands, Naomi plunged into the forest at the north edge of the clearing. The path was easy enough to follow. Davey liked to stick to the narrow deer trails through the underbrush.

  In the three years since her family had arrived in the Haw Patch in northern Indiana, Daed had made some progress in clearing the trees around their house and barnyard. The log home he had built that first summer was comfortable, although Mamm still missed the white frame house in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, that they had left behind when they made this move.

  But most important, Daed’s dream of being part of a new Amish settlement had been realized. More than thirty families had bought land in the northern Indiana forests, and additional settlers still appeared each spring and summer.

  Like this unknown owner of the felling ax. The faint trail Naomi followed was leading directly toward the sound. She could only hope that Davey wasn’t making a pest of himself with their new neighbor.

  Naomi emerged from the forest into a small clearing. Fifty feet away, on the opposite side, was the wood chopper. His back was toward her, his legs braced for the shock of each blow of his ax as it took decisive chunks out of the trunk of a tall maple tree. Standing on a stump to the side was seven-year-old Davey, his hands covering his ears. The edges of his blond hair swung over his ears as he flinched with each ringing chop of the ax.

  A wagon to Naomi’s right was the man’s home. A cooking fire ringed with stones had been built nearby, and a dozen tree stumps filled the clearing floor. The felled trees lay stacked in the center, stripped of their branches. A pile of brush rose at the edge of the space, and a stack of firewood lined the woods near the wagon, testifying to the new neighbor’s skill with a saw as well as the felling ax. There was no sign of a family, though, just as Daed had said. He must have come ahead to build a cabin before bringing the rest of the family along.

  Just then a loud crack boomed through the evening air, and the tree swayed, twisted, and tilted—right in the direction of the stump where Davey was standing. Naomi’s feet started moving toward her son with no thought beyond snatching him out of the path of the tree that rushed downward with increasing speed. But the stranger was faster and grabbed the boy off the stump, out of the path of disaster.

  Man and boy rolled to a halt at Naomi’s feet, Davey’s gleeful laugh showing that he had never realized the danger he had been in. The panic drained from her body, leaving her sore and irritated.

  “Davey.” Naomi balled her fists on her hips for emphasis. “Didn’t you hear me calling? You know you’re not to wander off in the woods without telling someone.”

  Her voice startled both of them, and two pairs of eyes looked at her. Davey’s blue gaze met hers briefly, then lowered as he blushed, embarrassed that he had been caught misbehaving again. But
the man’s brown eyes changed from a startled flash to a crinkling smile. He rose from the ground, setting Davey on his feet. He retrieved his hat from where it had rolled and brushed it off with a practiced sweep of his hand.

  “You must be Davey’s mamm.” As he settled his hat on his head, he shifted his gaze from her cast eye to her good one, and she felt her cheeks heat. “I’m Cap Stoltzfus, just arrived from Holmes County.”

  Naomi grasped Davey’s hand and pulled him close. “I’m Naomi. I’m thankful you snatched my boy from the path of the falling tree.”

  She glanced at Cap again. His eyes weren’t only brown. Reddish-brown flecks in the golden irises gave them an intriguing depth. She looked away. His beard touched his chest, indicating his married status, and her face burned to think she had been looking at him so closely.

  “I met your husband yesterday. He came by to welcome me, since we’re close neighbors.”

  Naomi’s face heated again. “You met my father, Eli Schrock. He told us about you at supper last night.”

  “Then I look forward to meeting more of your family tomorrow. Your daed told me where the Sabbath meeting is to be held.” He reached out to brush some leaves and twigs from the back of Davey’s shirt.

  “Will we meet your family soon?” Naomi asked.

  Cap took a step back, his face as closed as if he had slammed a shutter tight. “My family is . . . is lost.”

  Lost. Gone. He was alone. “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t meet her eyes, and Naomi was suddenly aware of the shadowed twilight under the surrounding trees. She hugged her elbows as the cooling air reminded her it was still early spring.

  “Davey and I must be getting home. No one knows where we are.”

  “Ja, for sure.” He took another step back, half turning from her.

  Davey pulled his hand out of Naomi’s grasp and tugged at Cap’s sleeve. “Will we see you at meeting?”

  He squatted on the ground, his face level with the boy’s. “I’ll be there.”

  Davey grinned and threw his arms around the man, giving him one of his impetuous hugs. Before Cap could respond, Davey was off, running toward the deer trail and home.

  The man hadn’t moved, even when Naomi looked back as she followed Davey into the woods. He still knelt on the ground, his head bowed.

  The damp seeped through the knees of Cap’s trousers, bringing him back to the present. The clearing full of stumps. His wagon home. His new life . . . without reminders of Martha at every turn.

  He retrieved the felling ax from where he had dropped it when he had heard the sickening, twisting crack of the maple tree and realized Davey was in its path. His knees still trembled at the thought of how close disaster lurked on every side of this life in the wilderness.

  Cap found a rag in his toolbox and wiped the head of the ax until it was clean and dry. Winding his way between the stumps, he spanned the short distance across the clearing to his wagon, stowed the toolbox on the shelf in front of the rear wheels, and hung the ax on the hooks he had installed inside the wagon bed.

  Silence rose all around him as he brought the coals of his fire back to life and rummaged through his food box for something to fix for his supper. Some smoked beef and schnitz, the sack of dried apple slices his sister had sent with him, were all he had left of his supplies. Come Monday he would have to take some precious time to go fishing or hunting, unless he chose to starve to death here in the forest.

  He set a pot near the fire with some water and the schnitz in it, wishing he had some ham. The smoked beef was food, but after almost three weeks of nothing else, he was getting hungry for something different. He wasn’t one to complain, though. He was thankful for what he had. Sticking a bit of the beef in his mouth, he savored the smoky, salty flavor as he waited for the water to boil.

  That Davey. A grin spread over his face in spite of himself. The boy was bright and lively, a curious lad. When he had emerged from the woods an hour or so after Cap’s noon meal, he had changed everything. Not only did he keep the conversation going, he was never still. Cap had finally told him he had to stay on the stump, out of the way, while he worked to fell the maple tree.

  And his persistent questions! Davey never stopped with his why-this and why-that until Cap was out of answers.

  Staring into the flames, Cap chewed the beef, softening the tough fibers. He knew why he had been drawn to Davey. The boy was the same age as his son would be now. The son he had never known.

  He put another stick on the fire, turning his thoughts in another direction, and Davey’s mother came to mind. Naomi. She looked too young to be the mother of a seven-year-old, but some women looked young for their age. She hadn’t mentioned a husband, beyond correcting his mistaken assumption that Eli was Davey’s father, and Davey hadn’t mentioned a father in his nonstop talking. Could it be that she was also widowed?

  He might find out tomorrow, if he could follow the directions Eli gave him. The meeting was at one of the Yoder farms, one mile south and a half mile east. He was looking forward to meeting more of his new neighbors. After enduring his sister Ruth’s nagging him to get married for years, a new beginning in a settlement where no one knew his past was a welcome idea. Perhaps he could hope that no one would be trying to set him up with one of their daughters or offering farmland in exchange for marrying their sister. He had had enough of that back in Ohio.

  He didn’t intend to marry again just because he was lonely or because he settled for some likely girl he could never love. When Martha had made him promise to marry again, on that horrible day when her life was draining from her, he had intended to keep that promise. But as the years passed, he hadn’t met anyone who appealed to him. Now, nearly seven years after Martha’s death, the sting of losing her had faded, but not the memory of the joy of being her husband. He didn’t intend to settle for anything less if he married again.

  Sunday morning dawned with the promise of rain. The sky above Cap’s clearing was overcast with a cover of light gray clouds, and a chill breeze was blowing in from the northwest. Even the birds were subdued, their usual morning cacophony reduced to a few chirps from the surrounding trees. To the west, where the forest sloped toward the marshy ground along the Little Elkhart River, wisps of morning mist floated between the tree trunks. Not quite fog, but not rain, either.

  After grabbing a handful of the dried apples to eat as he walked, he started for the trail that ran north and south along the edge of his property line. The rain held off until he reached the crossroads where Eli had said to turn east. The road there was crowded with families heading to the Sabbath Meeting. As he hurried to reach the meeting before the drizzle turned into heavy rain, he caught up to a young couple and exchanged nods with the husband as they reached the yard of a two-story house. The board siding was new, covering the bare logs of the original cabin. Cap took his place in the line of men and followed them into the house for worship. He found a seat on a bench near the back of the rows.

  The room filled quickly with families, couples, and single men. Just like at home in Ohio, the young people filled the front benches, directly behind the ministers. Cap glanced at the benches on the other side of the room where the women and children sat, and sure enough, there was Davey sitting with Naomi and an older woman. Davey stood next to his mother, craning his neck to search through the rows of men until he spotted Cap and waved. Naomi shushed the boy, sitting him on the bench beside her, but not before she glanced his way and he saw a telltale blush creep into her cheeks.

  As the crowded room grew quiet, Cap waited. He slid his glance to the face of the man beside him, an older man with a graying beard halfway down his chest. Bushy eyebrows knit in concentration as the man studied his clasped hands. A stray fly circling and then landing on the man’s thumb didn’t distract him from his meditation. Finally, one of the ministers started the first hymn. The long, low note gained strength and volume as other members of the congregation joined in. Copies of the Ausbund had been scattered amon
g the congregation so that everyone was able to follow the words.

  The familiar sense of unease tugged at Cap. He knew the hymn they were singing, understood the words of praise to the Lord, and he knew what to expect next as another one of the ministers called them to prayer. A kneeling prayer, long enough to make his knees ache in agony, followed by more singing, and then sermons until noon. A simple meal, fellowship with the community, and the long walk home to his empty clearing.

  He let his gaze wander around the crowded room, finally stopping when he saw Naomi’s face. Davey’s mother held a copy of the Ausbund, sharing it with the women sitting near her. Her face was peaceful as she sang, as if she really was singing to God. As if God cared enough to listen.

  Cap glanced up at the ceiling of painted boards and mentally shook off the thought. The Lord was in his place, and Cap was in his. That was the way it should be.

  Naomi had been painfully aware of her new neighbor sitting to her left and slightly behind her all through the morning. She hadn’t planned to look for him until the noon meal after the service, but when Davey had erupted with delight and she had looked to see what he wanted to show her, she had met his smiling gaze in spite of herself. For the rest of the morning, no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the worship, all she saw were his golden brown eyes.

  But now, with the service ended, she had tasks to do that would keep her mind off Cap Stoltzfus. While Davey ran off to play with the other children, Naomi threw herself into the final preparations for the noon meal. Annalise Yoder had set a huge kettle of bean soup to cook all night long, and the savory aroma had filled the house all through the morning worship. Naomi ladled the steaming stew into bowls and handed them to others, who set them on the long tables for the first sitting.

  The ministers and older men ate first, and as soon as they were done, the bowls were washed and filled again. Naomi ladled soup until the kettle was nearly empty, and then it was finally her turn to sit at the table with the other young, unmarried women. Susan Gingerich took a seat on the bench beside her.