© 2007 by Wanda E. Brunstetter
ISBN 978-1-63409-673-7
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-68322-050-3
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-68322-051-0
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
All German-Dutch words are taken from the Revised Pennsylvania German Dictionary used in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Müllerhaus Publishing Arts, Inc., www.Mullerhaus.net
For more information about Wanda E. Brunstetter, please access the author’s website at the following Internet address: www.wandabrunstetter.com
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Table of Contents
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
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
DEDICATION
In memory of the precious Amish children whose lives were taken in the October 2, 2006, schoolhouse shooting in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
And to the victims’ families, who showed the world what God’s love and true forgiveness are all about.
My thoughts and prayers continue to be with you.
For the Lord GOD will help me; therefore shall I not be confounded: therefore have I set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed.
ISAIAH 50:7
Chapter 1
A chill shot through Grace Hostettler. Stepping outside the restaurant where she worked, she had spotted a redheaded English man standing near an Amish buggy in the parking lot. He wore blue jeans and a matching jacket and held a camera in his hands. Something about the way he stood with his head cocked to one side reminded her of Gary Walker, the rowdy Englisher she had dated for a while during her rumschpringe, her running around years. But it couldn’t be Gary. She hadn’t seen him since—
Grace pressed her palms to her forehead. Her imagination was playing tricks on her; it had to be. She forced her gaze away from the man and scanned the parking lot, searching for her sister. She saw no sign of Ruth or of her horse and buggy. Maybe I should head for the bakeshop and see what’s keeping her.
Grace kept walking, but when she drew closer to the man, her breath caught in her throat. It was Gary! She would have recognized that crooked grin, those blazing blue eyes, and his spicy-smelling cologne anywhere.
He smiled and pointed the camera at her. A look of recognition registered on his face, and his mouth dropped open. “Gracie?”
She gave one quick nod as the aroma of grilled onions coming from the fast-food restaurant down the street threatened to make her sneeze.
“Well, what do you know?” He leaned forward and squinted. “Yep, same pretty blue eyes and ash blond hair, but I barely recognized you in those Amish clothes.”
Grace opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “What happened? Couldn’t make it in the English world?”
“I—I—”
“Don’t tell me you talked Wade into joining the Amish faith.” He slowly shook his head. “I can just see the two of you traipsing out to the barn to milk cows together and shovel manure.”
Grace swallowed against the bitter taste of bile rising in her throat. “D–don’t do this, Gary.”
He snickered, but the sound held no humor. “Do what? Dredge up old bones?”
Grace wasn’t proud that she’d gone English during her rumschpringe or that she’d never told her folks any of the details about the time she’d spent away from home. All they knew was that she had run off with some of her Amish friends, also going through rumschpringe, so they could try out the modern, English world. Grace had been gone two years and had never contacted her family during that time except for sending one note saying she was okay and for them not to worry. They hadn’t even known she was living in Cincinnati, or that—
“So, where is Wade?” Gary asked, halting Grace’s runaway thoughts.
She shivered despite the warm fall afternoon and glanced around, hoping no one she knew was within hearing distance. The only people she saw were a group of Englishers heading down the sidewalk toward one of the many tourist shops. “Wade’s gone, and … and my family doesn’t know anything about the time I spent living away from home, so please don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”
He gave a noncommittal grunt. “Still keeping secrets, huh, Gracie?”
His question stung. When she’d first met Gary while waiting tables at a restaurant in Cincinnati, she hadn’t told him she was Amish. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her heritage; she’d just decided if she was going to try out the English world, she should leave her Amish way of life behind.
But one day when a group of Amish kids came into the restaurant, Grace spoke to them in German-Dutch, and Gary overheard their conversation. He questioned her about it later, and she finally admitted that she was from Holmes County, Ohio, and had been born and raised Amish. Gary had made light of it at first, but later, as his quick temper and impulsive ways began to surface, he started making fun of Grace, calling her a dumb Dutch girl who didn’t know what she wanted or where she belonged.
When Wade came along and swept Grace off her feet with his boyish charm and witty humor, she’d finally gotten up the courage to break up with Gary. He didn’t take to the idea of her dating one of his friends and had threatened to get even with her. Had he come to Holmes County to make good on that threat?
“Wh–what are you doing here, Gary?” Her voice sounded raspy, almost a whisper, and her hands shook as she held her arms rigidly at her side.
“Came here on business. I’m a freelance photographer and reporter now.” He jiggled his eyebrows. “Sure didn’t expect to see you, though.”
Grace heard the rhythmic clip-clop of horse’s hooves and spotted her sister’s buggy coming down the street. “I–I’ve got to go.” The last thing she needed was for Ruth to see her talking to Gary. Her sister would no doubt ply her with a bunch of questions Grace wasn’t prepared to answer.
She gave a curt nod and hurried away.
Ruth squinted as she looked out the front window of the buggy. What was Grace doing in the restaurant parking lot, talking to an English man with a camera?
She guided the horse to the curb, and a few minutes later, Grace climbed into the buggy, looking real flustered. “H–how was your interview?” she panted.
“It went fine. I got the job.”
“That’s good. Glad to hear it.”
“Who was that man with the camera?” Ruth asked as she pulled slowly away from the curb and into the flow of traffic.
Grace’s face turned red as she shrugged. “Just … uh … someone taking pictures of Amish buggies.”
“It looked like you were talking to him.”
“Jah, I said a few words.”
“Were you upset because he was trying to take your picture?”
Grace nodded.
“Some of the English tourists that come to Berlin and the other towns in Holmes County don’t seem to mind snapping pictures without our permission. Either they don’t realize we’re opposed to having our pictures taken, or they just don’t care.” Ruth wrinkled her nose. “I feel such aeryer when they do that.”
Not even Ruth’s comment about feeling vexed provoked a response from Grace.
“Guess it’s best if we just look the other way and try to ignore their cameras.”
“Uh-huh.”
As Ruth halted the horse at the second stoplight in town, she reached across the seat and touched Grace’s arm. “Are you okay? You look like you’re worried about something.”
“Just tired from being on my feet at the restaurant all day.”
“You sure? That frown you’re wearing makes me think you’re more than tired.”
“I’ll be fine once we get home.” Grace smiled, although the expression seemed forced. “Tell me about the bakeshop. What will you be doing there?”
Ruth held her breath as the smell of manure from a nearby dairy farm wafted through the buggy. “Mostly waiting on customers while Karen and Jake Clemons bake in the other room,” she said, clucking to the horse to get him moving again when the light turned green. “Some days, I’ll be working by myself, and others, I’ll be with my friend Sadie Esh.”
“Are you wishing you could help bake?”
Ruth shook her head and turned the horse and buggy down the back road heading toward their home. “Not really. I’ll be happy to keep waiting on customers until I get married some day. Raising a family is my life’s dream.” Ruth glanced over at Grace. “Of course, I’ll have to find a husband first.”
“What about Luke Friesen? You think things might get serious between the two of you?”
“I don’t know, maybe. For now I’m going to concentrate on my new job.” Ruth smacked her lips. “Just thinking about all those delicious pastries and pies at the bakeshop makes me hungry.”
“I’m sure Mom will have supper started by the time we get home, so you’ll be eating soon enough.”
“Speaking of Mom, I heard her mention the other day that she’d like for the two of you to get busy on your wedding dress soon.”
Grace nodded and turned toward the window. Was she staring at the vibrant fall colors on the trees lining the road, or was she trying to avoid conversation?
“Do you still want me to help with the flowers for your wedding?” Ruth questioned.
“Jah, sure.”
“You’ll need several fresh arrangements on the bridal table, and I’m thinking maybe one big bouquet in the center of each of the other tables would look nice.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Will you want some candles, too?”
Grace nodded.
“Since Cleon’s mother and sister make beeswax candles, I’m sure they’ll want to provide those.”
“Maybe so.”
“I hope Cleon knows how lucky he is to be marrying my big sister.”
“I–I’m the lucky one.” Grace picked at her dark green dress as if she noticed a piece of lint, but Ruth didn’t see anything. Of course, she couldn’t look too closely as she had to keep her eyes on the road. Just last week, a buggy coming down one of the hills on this stretch of road between Berlin and Charm had run into a deer.
Grace sighed, and Ruth gave her a sidelong glance. If something was bothering Grace, she would talk about it when she was ready. In the meantime, Ruth planned to enjoy the rest of their ride home. Shades of yellow, orange, and brown covered the birch, hickory, and beech trees, and leaves of red and purple adorned the maple, oak, and dogwood. A dappling of sunlight shining through the trees gave her the feeling that all was right with the world—at least her little world.
Cleon Schrock stepped up to the counter near the front of the restaurant where Grace worked and smiled at Sarah, the owner’s daughter. “I came to town on business about my bees, so I decided to stop and see Grace. Would you tell her I’m here?”
Sarah shook her head. “Sorry, but Grace got off work about ten minutes ago. Said something about meeting her sister, who had an interview at the bakeshop.”
“Okay, thanks.” As Cleon turned toward the door, he felt a keen sense of disappointment. He hadn’t seen Grace since the last preaching service, and that had been over a week ago. “Have a good evening, Sarah,” he called over his shoulder.
“You, too.”
Cleon opened the front door, and just as he stepped out, he bumped shoulders with a tall, red-haired English man. The fellow held a fancy-looking camera in one hand and a notebook with a chunky green pen clipped over the top in the other. “Sorry. Didn’t realize anyone was on the other side of the door,” Cleon said with a shake of his head.
“Not a problem. As long as you didn’t ruin this baby, no harm was done.” The man lifted his camera. “She’s my bread and butter these days.”
Cleon stood, letting the man’s words sink in. “Are you a newspaper reporter?”
“Nope. I’m a freelance photographer and reporter, and I’ve written for several publications.” He smiled, revealing a set of straight, pearly white teeth. “The pictures I submit often bring in more money than my articles.”
Cleon gave a quick nod; then he started to turn away.
“Say, I was wondering if you’d be willing to give me a quick interview. I’m trying to find out some information about the Amish in this area, and—”
“Sorry, not interested.” Cleon hurried down the steps and onto the sidewalk. The last thing he wanted was for the Englisher to start plying him with a lot of questions about the Amish way of life. He’d read a couple of articles about his people in the newspaper recently, and none of them had been accurate. Cleon rushed around back to the parking lot, untied his horse from the hitching rail, and climbed into the buggy. If he hurried, he might catch up with Grace and Ruth on their way home.
Chapter 2
As Cleon headed down the road in his open buggy, all he could think about was Grace and how much he wanted to see her. He was excited to tell her about the latest contacts he’d made with some gift stores in Sugarcreek and Berlin, and if he didn’t spot her buggy on the road, he would stop by her folks’ place before going home.
The horse arched its neck and trotted proudly as Cleon allowed his thoughts to wander back to the day he’d first seen Grace Hostettler. It was almost four years ago—the day after he and his family had moved here from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. He’d met Grace during a preaching service that was held at her folks’ house. She’d seemed kind of quiet and shy back then, but after a while, they’d become friends and were soon a courting couple.
He’d wanted to ask her to marry him sooner but had waited until his beekeeping business was going strong enough to help support a wife and family. Besides, Grace hadn’t seemed ready for marriage until a year ago. She had told him that she’d been gone from the Amish faith for a time before
joining the church and that she’d only been back in Holmes County a few months before they’d met. Cleon had tried a couple of times to ask about her rumschpringe years, but Grace didn’t seem to want to talk about them, so he’d never pressed the issue. What Grace had done during her running around years was her business, and if she wanted to discuss it, he figured she would.
A horn honked from behind, pulling Cleon’s thoughts back to the present, and he slowed his horse, steering the buggy closer to the shoulder of the road to let the motorist pass. He gritted his teeth. At this rate, he would never catch up to Grace’s carriage.
Once the car had passed, Cleon pulled back onto the road and snapped the reins to get the horse moving faster. The gelding flicked his ears and stepped into a fast trot, and several minutes later, Cleon caught sight of a black, closed-in buggy. Since no cars were in the oncoming lane, he eased his horse out and pulled up beside the other buggy. He saw Grace through the window on the left side, in the passenger’s seat, and Ruth on the right, in the driver’s seat.
“Pull over to the side of the road, would ya?”
Ruth did as he asked, and Cleon pulled in behind her rig. He climbed out of his buggy, sprinted around to the side of the Hostettler buggy where Grace sat, and opened the door. “I went by the restaurant hoping to see you, and when Sarah said you’d already left, I headed down the road, hoping to catch up with you.”
Grace offered him a smile, but it appeared to be forced. Wasn’t she glad to see him?
“I was hoping I could give you a ride home so we could talk.”
Her face blanched, and she drew in a shaky breath. “Talk about what?”
“About us and our upcoming wedding.”
“Wh–what about it?”
Cleon squinted as he reached up to rub his chin. “What’s wrong, Grace? Why are you acting so naerfich?”
“I–I’m not nervous, just tired from working all day.”
“She’s been acting a bit strange ever since I picked her up in the restaurant parking lot,” Ruth put in from the driver’s seat. She leaned over and peered around Grace so she was looking right at Cleon. “If you want my opinion, I think my big sister’s feeling anxious about the wedding.”
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