by Beth Shriver
With Love’s Abundant Harvest we’re reminded again how God’s love and care can set broken spirits free and heal the deepest wounds. This is an emotional and riveting book I read in one sitting.
—ADINA SENFT
AUTHOR OF THE HEALING GRACE SERIES
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LOVE’S ABUNDANT HARVEST by Beth Shriver
Published by Realms
Charisma Media/Charisma House Book Group
600 Rinehart Road
Lake Mary, Florida 32746
www.charismahouse.com
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
Although this story is depicted from the town of Lititz, Pennsylvania, and the surrounding area, the characters created are fictitious. The traditions are similar to the Amish ways, but because all groups are different with dialogue, rules, and culture, they may vary from what your conception may be.
Copyright © 2015 by Beth Shriver
All rights reserved
Cover design by Bill Johnson
Design Director: Justin Evans
Visit the author’s website at www.BethShriverWriter.com.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
An application to register this book for cataloging has been submitted to the Library of Congress.
International Standard Book Number: 978-1-62998-008-9
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62998-009-6
Wherever we go, God is there.
Whenever we call, God is listening.
Whatever we need, God is enough.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Glossary
The horses stamped their impatience as Lucy Wagner scooped a pail full of oats. The dust lifted into the early morning sunlight as she dumped the feed into the bin. Lucy filled a large container with cane for the cows, gentle creatures waiting for their due.
“You’re slow today.” Her husband, Sam, didn’t stop walking even though he favored his right hip, a sure sign the cool April breeze was causing an ache in his bones.
“The babe’s kicking.” She put a protective hand on her belly as he glanced down at the bulge in her stomach. The familiar silence swelled with each step. “It’s getting hot.” She wished she had a handkerchief to wipe off her sweaty brow and envied the one Sam had around his neck.
“You’re always complaining about the weather. It’s been nice this spring.” He checked her work to make sure the teat cups were clean.
“Nee, you’re just cold-blooded,” she mumbled, and dropped her shoulders as if to hide from the knowledge that his was the coldest of hearts she’d ever known. The sweat trickled down her face, seeping over the scar on her right cheek that had been there since she was a child and made her self-conscious about her appearance.
She brushed the thoughts to a faraway place.
He grunted and looked up over her head. Although he was a good five inches taller than she, it was customary for him to look around but not at her.
Lucy couldn’t get used to the Pennsylvania weather. It was plenty cold for about three months every winter, and she was always glad when it started to warm up again. But since the baby, it seemed she was always too warm.
“You’ll wish for days like this come summer.” Sam handed her a bottle of milk from the cooler and turned toward the haus.
Her mind wandered to musing over what her sisters were doing about now down in Tennessee. Being the youngest of six girls had left her lonely and discontented when two of them moved to Colorado to join the new community there. Her heart wrenched to see her sisters go, so much so that her mammi, Frieda, had come for a visit and ended up staying in the area when she found out Lucy was in a family way. Now that she was pregnant, visiting Tennessee was out of the question, which meant family would have to come to her, namely her mamm, Verna.
She worried about her daed’s health, but her mamm was quite well. Lucy shook her head when reading the letters her sisters sent, subtly mentioning a hurtful word or action. Her mamm Hochstetler was an uncompromising woman who expected strong daughters. Lucy would honor her mamm as God commanded, but she found it necessary to hold fast to Christ’s commandment to love Him with all her heart, soul, and mind in order to gain strength for the challenge.
“Lucy, pay attention.” Sam’s stern voice broke into her thoughts as she looked up in time to keep from running into him from behind.
“Sorry, Sam.” Lucy looked past him and walked to the barn door. As she cracked open the heavy door, the wind slapped her cheeks. She paused, waiting for it to die down and scanning Sam’s farm. A tall silo filled with grain, corn, and other harvested crops, the largest in the community, was a beacon on the plains.
Sam shut the gate to the back pasture then walked through the barn. “What are ya waiting for? The wind’s not gonna stop blowing today.”
Lucy was still standing at the entrance to the barn. “I wanted to go through the barn instead of going around to let the dogs out.”
She waited. He didn’t respond, a rarity for him; he usually wanted the last word.
He frowned. “You go ahead. I’ll let ’em out and catch up with you at the haus.”
When the swirl of dirt and leaves slowly disappeared, she opened the barn door just wide enough to fit through and shut it tight behind her. Pulling her shawl over her kapp and keeping her head down, she walked quickly to the haus. It was much larger than she felt they needed, but Sam wanted to have room to grow a family.
Their border collie ran to her and bounded straight up in the air with excitement. “Skip, stay down.” She looked around to see what had him stirred up. A buggy rumbled down the lane, a surprise considering how rare it was to have unexpected visitors here in contrast to Lucy’
s Tennessee experience. There, she had enjoyed the large community where she spent time with her sisters and made new friends. At Sam’s place, she was forced to make herself invisible.
Abner Umble pulled the horse to a stop. His place was just behind them to the south, behind the Ecks’. He was a bit crotchety but always kind enough to bring them the mail. “Boy, it feels more like spring.”
His gravelly voice made Lucy want to clear her throat. “Would you like to come in for coffee?” She kept walking, feeling a bit rude, but it was too hot to stand still.
When he didn’t answer right away, Lucy wasn’t offended; Abner knew she was not the best cook. Uncommon for an Amish wife, but with six older sisters, she’d spent her time helping her father while her mamm taught her sisters to do the domestic work. Some had done the cooking; others had taken care of the mending and laundry while she and her sister Fannie, the next youngest, learned how to best help Daed work the land and tend the livestock.
“I might need a little coffee this morning.” Abner climbed the steps carefully and took out a hanky to wipe his stubbly nose. “Got a letter for ya. Looks like somebody back home.” He flipped the letter over and read the return address again. “One of your sisters.”
If he were anyone else, Lucy could have taken offense at his prying, but the fussy old man had grown on her after his wife became ill. “Thanks for saving us the trip to the mailbox, Abner. I know we should check it more often, but sometimes that community mailbox seems so far away.” The community mailbox was located next to the store by the frontage road. Considering she and Sam were at the other end of the community, they didn’t check all that often.
Abner shut the door behind him and sat at one of the eight chairs in the kitchen. The table was large, but the room was big enough to hold it, with plenty of space to work around. Lucy had tried to add some color with the rugs she’d hooked, and she had made the quilt that was draped over the rocking chair.
She started the coffee and stirred up some eggs, sausage, and grits with gravy. Her mammi had taught her how to make a few more dishes, but she mainly cooked breakfast food. It was easier, and she always had the ingredients needed.
She handed Abner a cup of coffee and poured one for herself. “How are you and Grace with this weather, Abner?” Even though they were neighbors, they both had big farms, so they didn’t see one another often, and she knew how the weather made his knees ache.
“Me and the missus are getting along. She complains of ailments, but I figure it’s just old age.” He slurped the coffee and winced. So did Lucy. “She’s finally catching up with her old husband.” He grinned with affection, something Lucy wished and prayed for from Sam.
“Would you like some cream?” Her hands were still sweaty from doing the morning chores, so she handed the creamer cup to him to pour.
“And sugar, if you’d be so kind.” He handed her the mail. “Just so I don’t forget.”
She’d walked back to the kitchen cabinet to get another mug when she heard Sam enter the mudroom. The gravel under his boots crunched against the floor, annoying her that he didn’t take a moment to wipe his feet.
The three-page letter was written in fine penmanship. Abner talked about the weather as if she wasn’t preoccupied, but she couldn’t pull away. The more she read, the faster her heart beat and her breathing sped up. By the end of the last sentence she felt her face flush with anxiety.
“Abner.” Sam glanced at him, but his eyes stopped on Lucy. “What’s wrong with you?” He grabbed the letter and glanced at it just long enough to understand.
Abner looked at one and then the other, thoroughly confused. “Did someone die?”
Lucy’s shoulders slumped, and she closed her green eyes. “Nee, Mamm is coming home. My sister Hanna had her baby not long ago, so she must be ready to send our mamm on up here.”
Lucy had hoped she wouldn’t be with her mamm alone, without her sisters by her side.
The one time Sam had met Lucy’s family, he’d said he’d never forget it. They were independent women, and so many. And then there was Mamm, a beautiful woman with sharp eyes and sleek build who ran her house like a business more than a place to call home.
Abner studied her as he set his cup on the table. “Who’s her mamm?”
“My mamm. . . ” A sigh lifted from her chest as she said the word. In view of Verna’s strict parenting, the title Mamm never quite fit in Lucy’s mind. The name Verna automatically came in her thoughts when she considered her mother, but she was respectful enough to refer to her as her mamm out loud.
“Maybe she doesn’t need to come just yet,” Abner counseled.
“Nee, it’ll be fine.” Lucy looked at Sam.
“Jah, sure”
Nee, it wouldn’t. But Lucy knew he wouldn’t tell her that with company in the room, and there wasn’t any way to tell her mamm no. Lucy was nearing her third trimester, which was probably the reason for her visit.
“How many of them?” Sam sat and waited for Lucy to bring his coffee.
“Just Mamm, as far as I know.” That kicked the wheels turning. If she could get Fannie to come stay for a while, it might be manageable. The second youngest, with some fire in her, was just what Lucy would need to get through the visit. Sam was not a hospitable man; he barely spent time with his own family, let alone hers.
“Though maybe a sister or two, as well.” Saying two were coming might make him agree to just one. Guilt sank through her chest. She disliked manipulating Sam, but she’d learned it was a matter of survival living with him. She was sure if she didn’t find a reprieve in some small way, she would lose her mind. Her loveless marriage and difficulty conceiving, along with a miscarriage, had given her little hope she could please her husband.
The thought made her stop and pray for her unborn child’s strength and growth.
Sam’s lips turned white as he pressed them together. “Your mamm might want some time alone with you.”
When his nose lifted after taking a sip of his coffee, she quickly handed him some milk, but bumped the table and spilled the contents of the pitcher. A trail of the cream crawled off the table onto Sam’s lap. He slapped the wooden table and stood, wiping his pants with a cloth napkin.
Lucy couldn’t get there fast enough. She stopped the trail of milk and righted the creamer cup, avoiding his eyes. “I’m sorry.” She took the napkin to the sink, listening to his work boots hitting the wood floor as he left the room.
Awkward silence radiated in the room in which Lucy was never comfortable and couldn’t do anything right—not even make a cup of coffee or clean up a simple mess without making it worse.
“I’m sorry, Abner.” Not wanting to face him, she continued squeezing the napkin, watching the white turn clear. She could hear his lopsided gait as he walked closer to her.
“A mamm-to-be shouldn’t be so upset about such things.” Abner tapped Lucy’s arm. “Whether you’re with child or not, for that matter.”
All she could do was nod, unable to turn and look at him with the tears threatening to spring.
“Maybe I should go. You let me know if you need me, ya hear?” He slipped out the door and was gone, leaving her alone to receive her husband’s wrath.
Manny Keim clucked to his bay mare, Sweet Pea, in the pasture beyond the fence. She was stubborn and old, but she still reminded him if he hadn’t taken her out for a while.
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br /> The stud hitched to the wagon held his head high as his dark mane bounced against his neck. Puffs of air floated from his nostrils into the humid air. Summer couldn’t come soon enough for him, but fortunately it was right around the corner.
Manny ran his fingers through his hair and put his felt hat back on. He needed a trim. Minister Eben wouldn’t appreciate his blond hair hanging down past his collar, but he hadn’t had the time to cut it, nor did his cousin, Emma, who was more like a sister to him. Since his wife, Glenda, had died, Emma had shown more care for him than any of his other relatives had. He thought she had a special place in her heart for Glenda and missed her now that she was gone, almost as much as he did.
A piercing whistle pulled him away from the memories as his eyes focused down the dirt road to Caleb Lapp. The two men couldn’t look any different, especially with Manny’s eyes being two different colors. He was used to the stares and double takes from the Englischers in town. Their eyes would dart back and forth as if not believing what they were seeing. Glenda had told him he was unique. There was no mistaking that he was, she’d say.
Caleb set his rifle in the wagon bed. Then he pulled himself up and into Manny’s wagon, giving him a stare. “You deaf today? I had to whistle twice to get your attention.” He brushed away the curls from his eyes as he waited for a response.
“Just thinking.” Manny knew how much his mind had wandered toward his deceased wife over the last year. He wondered what a normal time of mourning was and whether her fair face and bright blue eyes would ever fade from his mind. He was grateful not to have woken in the night expecting to see her there for some time, but now that he’d had the thought, she would most likely appear next to him in a dream.
This time, Caleb’s yodeling stopped his thoughts. It was something he’d started doing since he came back from the city with Emma just two years ago. He looked over at him with pinched brows and tight jaw. “Can you warn me when you’re gonna do that?”
