Mount Hope

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by Sarah Price


  One night Fanny thought she heard a buggy in the driveway late on a Friday night. Outside the window, she could make out two voices, a man and woman who talked as they walked away from the house. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and Elijah wrapped his arm around her as he whispered into her ear, “Benjamin’s come calling for Julia at last.”

  As for Martha, with Naomi’s departure and Timothy’s softened attitude, the fog that had gripped her slowly lifted. Her attention now focused on patiently teaching Susan how to weave baskets. Fanny often found them laughing as they worked at the kitchen table of the main farmhouse.

  But today Fanny hadn’t joined them. Instead, she was finishing the preparations for the noon meal.

  She glanced out of the window and saw Elijah walking toward the house from the barn. He was whistling, a sure sign of his good mood. Within a few minutes, she heard him on the porch, and after kicking the dirt from his boots, he opened the door.

  “Mmm, fresh bread!”

  She smiled as he approached her. With no one else in the kitchen, he leaned over and gave her a warm kiss, his arm around her waist. She placed her hand upon his shoulder, and when he pulled back, she stared into his face. “Finished then?”

  “Until tonight, ja.” He glanced over her shoulder at the clock on the wall, a wedding gift from him to her. “It’s nice out today. The air not so cold. Mayhaps we have time for a ride?”

  “Oh, Elijah!” Just the thought of riding together, one last time through the empty fields before he planted the corn, made her glow. “That sounds right gut!”

  “I thought you’d like that.”

  “But . . . ” She paused and let her hand fall from his shoulder to her stomach. “Is it safe?”

  He laughed and hugged her once again. “Ach, Fanny, what a wunderbarr maem you will be!” He kissed her forehead. “Nee, you’re fine. Why, you’re only ten weeks pregnant!”

  Fanny glanced at the floor, not wanting to be argumentative with him but wanting to protect her unborn baby . . . no, their unborn baby. “Still . . . ”

  “Ach, none of that, Fanny,” he said in a gentle voice. “No hiding your face or your opinions from me. You are my fraa, and as both your husband and your friend, I value what is on your mind. Your concerns are my concerns. If you have any doubts, we can go for a nice, slow walk instead.”

  He placed a finger under her chin and made her look at him again. The hint of a beard along his jawline still looked out of place for the face that had been so familiar to her for almost nine years. But she didn’t mind. In fact, she liked seeing the growth, for she knew it meant that he was hers and no one else could ever claim him.

  Taking a step backward, he held out his hand for her. She gave him a tender smile as she reached out to take it, feeling the warmth of his skin touching hers. He led her toward the door, pausing to take down her black coat from a hook. As she slipped her arms into it, he turned her around and helped her with the buttons.

  “Fanny Bontrager,” he said. “I am a happy man, and all because of you.”

  “And God,” she added.

  “And God,” he affirmed. “When you first arrived, your dress soiled and your shoes torn, I never would have imagined that God’s plans would have led to this moment. But I thank Him every day that He knew what we both needed.”

  “Each other.”

  He leaned down and gently kissed her lips before he repeated, “Each other” into her ear.

  She felt the all-too-familiar butterflies in her stomach as he took her hand. Together they walked outside and headed down the lane toward the road. Elijah lifted his hand as they passed by the kitchen window of the main house, his mother standing at the sink and smiling as she observed them.

  With the sun beginning to lower in the late winter sky, beautiful colors of red, orange, and purple filled the horizon. A few birds flew overhead, squawking as they did. Soon the sun would set later in the evening and the trees would begin to bud. Spring was just around the corner, and with it came the rebirth of life on the farm. While Fanny always favored spring, this year it would be even better, for she would have Elijah by her side.

  Just as God had planned.

  Glossary

  ach vell—an expression similar to Oh well

  aendi—aunt

  Ausbund—Amish hymnal

  bann—the shunning of a church member

  boppli—baby

  bruder—brother

  daed—father

  danke—thank you

  Englische—non-Amish people

  Englischer—a non-Amish person

  fraa—wife

  g’may—church district

  grossdawdi—grandfather

  grossdawdihaus—small house attached to the main dwelling

  grossmammi—grandmother

  gut mariye—good morning

  haus—house

  ja—yes

  kinner—children

  kum—come

  maedel—older, unmarried woman

  maem—mother

  mayhaps—maybe

  nee—no

  Ordnung—unwritten rules that govern the g’may

  rumschpringe—period of “fun” time for youths

  schwester—sister

  wie gehts—what’s going on?

  wilkum—welcome

  wunderbarr—wonderful

  Other Books by Sarah Price

  THE AMISH CLASSIC SERIES

  First Impressions (Realms)

  The Matchmaker (Realms)

  Second Chances (Realms)

  Sense and Sensibility (Realms)

  THE AMISH OF LANCASTER SERIES

  Fields of Corn

  Hills of Wheat

  Pastures of Faith

  Valley of Hope

  THE AMISH OF EPHRATA SERIES

  The Tomato Patch

  The Quilting Bee

  The Hope Chest

  The Clothes Line

  THE PLAIN FAME SERIES

  Plain Fame (Waterfall Press)

  Plain Change (Waterfall Press)

  Plain Again (Waterfall Press)

  Plain Return (Waterfall Press)

  Plain Choice (Waterfall Press)

  Plain Christmas (Waterfall Press)

  OTHER AMISH FICTION BOOKS

  An Amish Buggy Ride (Waterfall Press)

  An Empty Cup (Waterfall Press)

  An Amish Christmas Carol

  Amish Circle Letters

  Amish Circle Letters II

  A Christmas Gift for Rebecca

  Priscilla’s Story

  Secret Sister (Realms)

  For a complete listing of books, please visit the author’s website at www.sarahpriceauthor.com.

  About Sarah Price

  THE PREISS FAMILY emigrated from Europe in 1705, settling in Pennsylvania as the area’s first wave of Mennonite families. Sarah Price has always respected and honored her ancestors through exploration and research about her family’s history and their religion. At nineteen, she befriended an Amish family and lived on their farm throughout the years.

  Twenty-five years later, Sarah Price splits her time between her home outside of New York City and Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where she retreats to reflect, write, and reconnect with her Amish friends and Mennonite family.

  Contact the author at [email protected]. Visit her weblog at http://sarahpriceauthor.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/fansofsarahprice.

 

 

 


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