Life Regained (An Amish Friendship Series Book 1)

by Sarah Price

  It was an honor that she knew she would cherish for years to come.

  An hour later, she found herself back in the buggy again, riding beside Mary as they headed to the quilting bee at her daughter’s house. Unlike her sons, her daughters had moved further away. Martha lived in the next town while Susan was a bit closer, only three miles down the road but in a different church district.

  Elizabeth was surprised to learn that Susan’s husband was not a farmer. In fact, their house looked very contemporary and was located on the edge of the town.

  “Not enough farm land for all these men,”Mary said with a hint of regret in her voice.“Reckon I’m luckier than most, though. Susan’s husband is a carpenter so there is plenty of work in the area for him.”

  “Oh?”

  Mary nodded as she stopped the buggy in the driveway.“Ja, everyone wants an Amish man to do their building. Good quality and even better prices.”

  “What about Martha?”

  “Her husband works at a store in town that sells leather goods.”She opened the buggy door.“Anna’s husband does farm but his family’s farm is further away. She usually visits once or twice a month with the kinner.”She paused as she gathered her box of food that she had brought with her. She lifted her eyes and looked at Elizabeth.“Like I said, I’m luckier than most.”

  When they walked into the house, Elizabeth immediately felt uncomfortable. Seven other Amish women were sitting around a large quilting frame, their shoulders hunched over as they looked up to greet the newcomers. Elizabeth noticed an expression of initial warmth at seeing Mary turn to curiosity when they noticed her Englische companion.

  The other women were older, certainly in their fifties and sixties, with the exception being Susan and her sister Martha, both of whom greeted Elizabeth with a warm smile and a handshake. Mary quickly introduced her to the other Amish women.

  “My sister, Lydia, my sister Doreen,”she started.

  Elizabeth shook their hands, noticing that they merely nodded their head in response to the greeting. Both Lydia and Doreen looked like younger versions of Mary. However, unlike Mary who tended to wear colored dresses, they both wore black.

  The other women were from Susan’s husband’s side of the family. Elizabeth noticed that all of the women wore glasses, including Susan. She wondered if that was a result of a lifetime of reading and sewing by lantern light.

  The quilt was spread out over a wooden frame that was set up in a mostly empty living room. The women sat around it on folding chairs, some of the older women having special pads on the seat of the chair to aid their comfort. Some of the women worked with silver thimbles on their thumbs while a few did not. Each of them, however, had a small pair of scissors on the quilt, near where they worked. A few of the scissors had a colorful piece of yarn or material tied to it which, Elizabeth presumed, made it easier to identify the owner.

  “Come sit,”Mary instructed as she took a sit near the corner. There was an empty chair to her right so Elizabeth took that spot.

  The quilt was mostly white with small patches of colored fabric that made rings in the center of it. Each ring was a different fabric and they entwined in the middle. Along the edges, there was a border of small squares, each made of eight triangles. The colors were bright and fresh, reminding Elizabeth of the Amish dresses that she saw.

  “It’s a beautiful quilt,”Elizabeth said as she sat down.“Is it for you, Susan?”

  Susan shook her head.“Nee. For my niece.”

  Martha motioned with her hand.“My dochderis turning sixteen soon. It’s her wedding quilt for her hope chest.”

  Leaning over, Mary whispered,“Martha’s house doesn’t have a large enough gathering room for the frame.”

  Now it made sense. Elizabeth nodded as she took the needle and white thread that Mary offered to her. She watched as Mary began to make small stitches in the material along a faint blue line drawn on the fabric.

  “See the colored fabric?”Mary said, pointing to the rings and squares.

  “Pretty colors,”Elizabeth responded, carefully sticking her threaded needle into the quilt and following Mary’s example.

  “We all gave one of our dresses to use in the quilt,”Mary said, slipping her needle downward and then, after making a tiny stitch, pulling it back through the quilt top.

  “Brings good luck,”one of the older women said.

  Doreen, however, would have none of that. Pursing her lips, she waved her hand dismissively.“Oh fiddle faddle!”she snapped.“That’s nonsense, Esther! No such thing as luck!”

  “Mayhaps not for you!”Esther never once skipped a beat in her quilting, her needle flashing through the air as she made another stitch.“For me, there’s nothing wrong with believing in old wives tales.”

  “Old wives tale indeed!”Doreen mumbled.“Why, if that’s the case, I reckon you have an old hex sign hanging from the side of your barn!”

  At this, the other women laughed and Elizabeth glanced at Mary, not catching the gist of the joke.

  “The Englische tourists always think Amish use hex signs to ward off evil,”she explained.

  “You don’t?”

  Elizabeth’s innocent question brought another round of laughter. Mortified that she had said something foolish, the color flooded to her cheeks.

  Mary reached over and patted her hand.“Just quilt, Lizzy,”she said, a sparkle in her eye and a warmth in her tone that helped ease Elizabeth’s feeling of discomfort. Clearly, Elizabeth’s comments had amused the other women and, with that, they seemed to relax in her presence as they sat around the frame to focus on the quilt.

  Doreen reached for the spool of thread in front of Mary.“At least she’s an innocent Englischer,”she said.“Not like those ones that presume they know everything about the Amish.”

  A few snickers around the quilt caused Elizabeth to look up. On the one hand, she was glad that she was no longer the source of their amusement. On the other hand, she was curious.

  Mary seemed to read her mind.“Never you mind them, Lizzy,”she said.“They’re talking about that Vivian. Runs a tour in the area. Thinks she knows so much about the Amish culture.”

  One of the younger woman scoffed.

  Mary shot her a dark look.

  “I think I know that woman,”Elizabeth said. She could still picture the woman in Carl’s diner with her painted face and dyed red hair. She hadn’t been partial to that woman then and, now that she had heard the Amish talk about her, she wasn’t any fonder.“She was at Carl’s diner the night I arrived in town.”

  “Oh yes,”Mary said dramatically.“Been chasing Carl for years, that one.”

  Elizabeth was surprised that Mary would know something like that.

  “Did you hear the latest?”Esther asked.“About Vivian’s trying to muscle out another business in town? Something about asking the Petersheims to not conduct anymore business with another Englische woman who wanted to open an Amish gift shop.”

  “Asked pleasant as can be, I imagine,”Mary commented sarcastically which drew more laughter from the other women.

  Doreen clicked her tongue and shook her head.“Can you imagine?”

  “Not very Christian in my book,”another woman remarked.

  While she was initially surprised at the gossip discussed by the older women, Elizabeth also found something reassuring and comforting about it. They were, after all, people and people had opinions. The women seated around the quilt might have believed in living a plain and simple life, living off the land and worshipping God in their homes instead of churches. But that didn’t make them any different from the rest of the world.

  Relaxing, Elizabeth listened to their stories and, on occasion, found herself laughing with them. There was a camaraderie among the Amish women as they quilted and she realized that this was an opportunity that most Englischers would never experience. She felt blessed for the invitation to participate.

  After an hour of quilting, Susan excused herself and, within minute
s, the scent of percolating coffee filled the air. Elizabeth’s neck and back hurt from sitting in the same position, hunched over the quilt. She wondered how the older women did it. Glancing at them, she noticed that not one of them paused to rub the back of her neck or to move her shoulders. After years of quilting, they probably didn’t even notice, she thought.

  Susan returned to the room and announced,“I have coffee and snickerdoodle cookies for anyone who would care for some.”

  Elizabeth hesitated, waiting to see if anyone else got up.

  Mary leaned over.“Go ahead,”she whispered.“I’ll be there as soon as I finish this section.”

  In the kitchen, Elizabeth accepted a cup of coffee, pausing at the table to fix it with sugar and milk. She looked around, taking in the neat and orderly countertops. Everything appeared to be spotless. Over the refrigerator, a small clock hung, the little hand almost covering the three and the big hand on the eight.

  “Did you try a cookie, then?”Susan asked as she handed a plate to her.“It’s my special recipe.”

  At thirty-two, Susan was a younger version of her mother, only she was more petite. Similar to Mary, she had a friendly and warm look about her, her expressive eyes saying more about what she felt than the words she actually spoke.

  “Thank you,”Elizabeth said as she took the plate with the rectangular cookie on it.

  “Maemsays you’ve been staying at the cottage for a few weeks,”Susan said as she leaned against the counter. Her dark eyes seemed to study Elizabeth from behind her wire-rimmed glasses.“You like it, then?”

  “I do,”Elizabeth admitted.“It’s very relaxing.”

  “You’ll be returning soon?”

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth nodded. She had been away from West Virginia for over three weeks now. During that time, her cell phone rang only three times, once a phone call from Reverend White and twice from the neighbor who was keeping an eye on her house. Neither of her children called her. Of course, she initially excused the silence due to the fact that she called both of them twice a week. However, when she really thought about it, she knew that her feelings were hurt. If only they could at least pretend to miss her, she thought.

  “Thanksgiving is in two weeks so yes, I will have to return, I fear.”

  Susan raised a delicate eyebrow and tilted her head.“You say that as though you don’t wish to leave.”

  “Oh Susan,”Mary said as she entered the room.“Leave Lizzy be!”Turning to Elizabeth, she shook her head with a feigned look of annoyance.“Always the busy-body, that one!”

  “Maem!”

  Elizabeth smiled.“It’s all right. I don’t mind the question. It’s one I’ve been asking myself lately.”

  At that statement, Mary paused.“About staying and not returning to your home?”

  With a simple lifting of her shoulders, Elizabeth shrugged.“Not much to return to, I suppose.”

  Mary accepted the cup of coffee that Susan poured for her. Without putting any sugar or milk in it, Mary took a sip, her eyes looking off into the distance for a long moment.

  “Of course,”Elizabeth continued.“I do have to return. I mean, the holidays are almost here and I do have my children there…” She let the words drift from her lips, wondering if she was trying to convince Mary and her daughter or was she really trying to convince herself?

  “I see,”Mary said softly.

  “My children would think I had lost my marbles if I just sold everything and moved out here.”Elizabeth laughed at the thought. Sophia would want her to see a psychiatrist for certain. “Why, can you imagine?”

  Mary glanced at Susan, an unspoken communication exchanged between the two of them.

  “Besides, where would I stay?”

  Susan dished a cookie onto another plate and handed it to her mother. Mary took it with a quiet“danke”but did not respond to Elizabeth’s question.

  “The cottage doesn’t usually have guests,”Susan said lightly.“And you said it was relaxing.”

  Elizabeth paused. It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. The rent was more than reasonable and she certainly felt comfortable. However, she didn’t want to presume that the Troyers wanted a permanent tenant. Besides, could she really forego electricity? As it was now, she had to charge her phone in her car at night.

  Before she had a chance to respond, a few of the other women entered the kitchen. As they crowded around the table, chatting among each other, the topic of Elizabeth and the cottage was forgotten. At least to everyone but Elizabeth.

  Is it possible? she wondered.

  She could hardly imagine Sophia and Ryan’s reaction if she told them that she was selling the house, paying off the mortgage, and moving to an Amish farm in Ohio. And then, as the idea rolled around in her head, she tried to force herself to imagine that very situation. They’d think she was crazy, yes, but would they try to stop her? And what if she didn’t move to Ohio? What was really left for her in West Virginia?

  For the rest of the afternoon, she remained unusually quiet, deep in thought at this new seed that had been planted in her mind. She weighed the pros and the cons, talked herself into it as well as out of it. By the time that she left Susan’s with Mary to return back to the Troyers, she had come to no firm conclusion except for one: something in her life had to change. Without William, she simply could not continue living the way she had been for the past thirty-plus years.

  CHAPTER 10

  By the time Friday came around, Elizabeth was a bundle of nerves. For the previous few days, it had been easy to forget about her commitment to share dinner with Carl. Mary had kept her busy, first with the quilting bee on Tuesday and then with preparing for worship on Sunday.

  The service was to be held in the large room of the main house. On Wednesday and Thursday, Elizabeth had happily volunteered to help clean. Furniture was moved outside so that floors could be scrubbed and walls wiped down. Even the windows were washed with a special vinegar cleaner to make certain they sparkled.

  On Friday, however, Mary was back at her house, helping with the baking of pies and bread for the fellowship hour that followed the meal. Once again, Elizabeth found herself working alongside the Amish woman.

  “You should come on Sunday,”Mary offered as they prepared the pie shells on Friday.

  Elizabeth looked up, her hands covered with dough that she had been pressing into pie shells.“To church?”

  “Our worship service,”Mary corrected, reminding Elizabeth that the Amish didn’t worship in a church building. Instead, they rotated the service so that each family in the g’may hosted it at least once a year in their home.

  To say that she was intrigued was an understatement. However, she certainly didn’t want to intrude.“Isn’t it given in German?”

  Mary nodded.“Ja, it is. Can’t say you’d understand much but you might find it interesting.”

  No doubt, she thought. Still, the thought of sitting on a hard bench for three hours in a room full of strangers listening to a sermon in a foreign language also sounded daunting.

  “Let me think about it,”she said. Besides, her mind was elsewhere. In just a few short hours, Carl would pick her up for her very first date with a man since she was seventeen years old.

  “If you’re worried about your date tonight…”

  Elizabeth’s jaw dropped open and she stared at Mary. There was a satisfied look on her face as if she were pleased with herself for having not only known but kept the secret.

  “How did you…?”

  Mary shook her head, chuckling softly.“Guess you haven’t heard of the Amish grapevine, now have you?”

  It took her a minute to realize what Mary meant. Obviously the Amish were not immune to gossiping and, if Elizabeth understood what Mary meant, her date with Carl had made its way onto the local gossip circuit.

  She didn’t have time to inquire further when they were interrupted by Katie’s three youngest children bursting into the room. Mary wiped her hands on a dish
towel and turned to greet them.

  “Wie gehts?”she asked.

  “Maemsent us over here!”the older of the three, a girl named Kate, said as she walked toward the kitchen. She held the hand of her five-year-old brother Ben dragging him behind her, with her sister, Dee, following close at her heels.

  “Did she, now?”Mary raised an eyebrow and stole a glance at Elizabeth.“Were you getting underfoot, then?”

  Dee nodded her head, her small white prayer kappcoming loose and slipping from her head.“Ja, that’s what she said.”

  The serious look on Dee’s angelic face made Elizabeth turn away, holding back her amused laughter. Kate and Dee were only one year apart but looked as if they could be twins. Kate stood only an inch taller than her seven-year-old sister but they were both beautiful girls, with cherubic faces and big brown eyes.

  During her first week at the cottage, Elizabeth met both of the young girls, their curiosity about the Englische woman staying on their farm causing them to linger nearby one afternoon after school. She had baked some sugar cookies that afternoon, intending to bring them down to Mary’s house to give to the kinner. However, as fortune played out, the kinner came to her.

  After that day, they often waved to her when they were outside, Dee sometimes running up to say hello as she was a bit more outgoing than Kate. From her few interactions with the girls, Elizabeth knew them to be well-mannered and polite, although she had expected nothing less.

  Mary sighed.“Well, can’t have you getting underfoot when she’s readying the house for Sunday’s worship service, can we?”Walking over to a cabinet, she opened a door and pulled out a coloring book and box of broken crayons.“Sit for a spell, then,”she instructed.“You can color for a bit before you help me set the table for supper.”