Amish Romance Box Set: Finding Home

by Brenda Maxfield

  Not in the same that she had loved Isaac. No. Isaac had been her first love. She had gone from her parent’s loving care to his. She would never love someone the same way she’d loved Isaac.

  When she loved again, it would be a different love. Perhaps a more tender love. And for certain, a more grateful love. But a solid love, too, and passionate. That would be the same.

  Justin reached out and took her hand in his. She allowed it, knowing that somehow they were communicating beyond words. Beyond convention. Beyond rules.

  The sadness she felt—she saw it in his eyes, too. She saw his love there, also, and she was touched and deeply grateful. As he continued to look at her, she saw the moment when his final resignation set in. His expression wilted, and he knew. He knew that it would never work between the two of them. He knew it would never be possible.

  “Oh, Naomi. You don’t want the sign, do you?” His voice was low and thick, and his eyes filled with tears.

  She didn’t answer right away, but she gently peeled his fingers away from her hand. She took her palm from his and clasped her hands in her lap. He looked down at his own empty hand for a long minute, and then he looked back up to her.

  “It was a crazy thought,” he said. “A longshot. The longest shot ever. But I had to try. You understand that, don’t you?”

  She had trouble swallowing around the growing lump of tears in her throat. She nodded her head.

  “It’s like a force driving me,” he continued. His eyes held her. “Forgive me for saying this, but I love you, Naomi Byler.”

  Her fingers tightened around each other in a claw grip.

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything. In fact, I don’t want you to say anything. But I had to tell you. I had to.” He spoke the last three words slowly, over-enunciating each one. “If your world were different … if my world were different … I think we would have stood a real chance.”

  He shook his head and rubbed his hand over his mouth. Then he lowered his hand again to his side, he went on. “I know you care for me. It’s in your eyes.” He blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Now, sitting here with you again, in your world, I see that it’s not enough. My love isn’t enough. It will never be enough. Our worlds will never be bridged. Love alone can’t do that.”

  Naomi’s lips quivered. He reached over and touched her hand.

  “No, Naomi, don’t worry. I’m not hurt. Sad, yes. Unbearably sad. But I see it clearly tonight. I know, now that I look at you, that it won’t work. How I wish it would. You’ll never know how much I wish it would. But thank you.” His voice choked up, and he paused before continuing. “Thank you for the best five days of my life.” He shook his head. “Six, now, I guess.”

  Naomi’s eyes welled with tears, and she could hardly see through them to gaze at him. She was filled with such emotion, such tenderness for him, that she couldn’t speak.

  “I will leave first thing in the morning. Without breakfast. I’ll be gone before you even get up. And I’ll cancel the sign installation. I don’t want you to worry about anything.” He stood and gazed down at her, and she thought her heart would break with the poignancy of it all.

  He stepped away then, but she scrambled up and pulled on his hand. Standing on her tiptoes, she broke across all rules of behavior and kissed him gently on the cheek. She felt his stubby whiskers as she lingered there for one sweet moment.

  He sucked in his breath and stood frozen.

  She backed away. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Justin Moore.”

  He touched his forehead in a salute and walked slowly and quietly around the house in the growing darkness. When he disappeared from sight, Naomi sank back into her rocker and closed her eyes. She murmured a prayer, asking for forgiveness. She had started down a path of no return, and she was repentant for that. And then, she thanked God. She thanked him for His love and His mercy and His grace. She thanked Him that she was alive.

  She covered her mouth in shock and began rocking, starting slowly and gaining in speed, until the rocker was rapidly creaking back and forth. I am grateful to be alive. She hadn’t been grateful for life in months. Not since the accident. Something inside her was cracking open, and she marveled at the budding joy that was being released. She felt like running through the fields with her arms stretched wide. She felt like wiggling into the tire swing and flying up to the sky. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she smiled up at the stars.

  She glanced around to the corner of the house where Justin had vanished. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  Justin was as good as his word. By the time Naomi arose, his car was gone. She stared down at the empty spot where his car had been parked, and she wondered how far down the road he had gone. She wished him Godspeed, and then she quickly dressed to get about her chores.

  In the kitchen, she pulled the bowl of eggs from the refrigerator. It would just be the three of them that morning. She glanced up at the clock. It was plenty early, and she felt an urge to gather up the dirty sheets and towels from the daadi haus.

  Justin Moore was gone, never to return. She wanted to wash everything up. She padded outside through the side door and entered the daadi haus. It was still fairly dark, but she knew every inch of the house. In the bedroom, she saw that Justin had already stripped the bed and folded the quilt at the end of the mattress. She gathered up the sheets, when something caught her eye.

  Bending over, she saw a one hundred dollar bill on top of a folded piece of paper. She sank onto the bed, and holding the note close to the window, she read.

  Since you won’t be taking the sign, I wanted to pay you for my night here. Naomi, thank you for everything. Everything. I will remember you till my dying day. I hope you’ll be happy. I know you will be. I also know that you won’t be alone for long. He loves you, you know.

  My deepest regards,

  Justin

  Naomi pressed his note to her chest and felt tears sting the back of her eyes. I will remember you, too, she thought. Forever.

  She stood and tucked the note and the money into her apron. He loves you, you know. She gazed out the window and watched the pink sky spread across the horizon as the sun climbed into a new day.

  Zach.

  Did he love her? She wasn’t sure. Possibly. She scooped up the sheets and went into the bathroom and snatched Justin’s wet towel from the rung.

  Zach.

  A slow smile crept over her face. He’d be arriving soon to work in the fields, and she realized that she was excited to see him. His presence on the farm was a comfort. She liked him there. Liked the way he interacted with Ben. Liked his steady ways.

  He loves you, you know.

  She hugged the laundry to her chest and slipped out of the daadi haus. The contented smile remained on Naomi’s face all the way into the big house and all the way upstairs to wake the children.

  The End

  Naomi’s Choice

  by Brenda Maxfield

  Chapter One

  A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.

  Proverbs 16:9 KJV

  Naomi stood on the porch and stared at the empty parking spot under the elm tree. Early that morning, Justin Moore’s white sedan had been parked there. But true to his word, he was long gone. Naomi closed her eyes and exhaled with a heavy, relieved sigh.

  It was over. He would never return. She pressed her hands over her heart and forgave herself for her wild imaginings over the last few weeks. She’d known from the first moment there was no hope of a relationship with an Englischer, but he’d been charming. Truth be told, he’d been more than charming.

  But it wasn’t right. Nor was it possible, and surprisingly, she felt that her heart was awakening to someone else. Her eyes misted over, and she prayed that it wasn’t too soon to feel such stirrings. Isaac had only been gone a year, and she still missed him, and so did her two children.

  She straightened her back. But Isaac
was gone, and she was alone. She hated to admit how lonely she often felt—how long the nights stretched in her wide empty bed. How, even in the late summer, her feet grew cold, and Isaac’s legs weren’t there to warm them up.

  A distinct clip clop sounded, and she turned to see Mary coming up the drive. Naomi stepped down the stairs and shaded her eyes as her friend approached.

  “Mary!” she said with pleasure. “How nice to see you.”

  Mary’s face was a study of concern. “Naomi Byler, what in the world did you do to Zach?”

  Naomi blanched. “To Zach? What do you mean?”

  Mary pulled up on the reins, and her pony jerked to a stop. She scrambled out of the cart and took Naomi’s arm, pulling her up the steps and onto the porch. She collapsed into a rocking chair and indicated that Naomi should do the same.

  “What’s going on?” Naomi asked, becoming concerned. She hadn’t done a thing to Zachariah King. Although now that she thought about it, after he’d left her fields early the day before, he hadn’t returned.

  “I know Zach is only leasing your fields. But as I’ve hinted many times, I think he’s sweet on you…”

  Naomi flushed. Where Zach King was concerned, her thoughts usually ended up in a confused mess. Zach had been strangely communicative lately, not to mention, he had been spending a lot of time with her five-year-old son. Of course, Ben loved it. The poor boy had been starving for male attention ever since his father had passed.

  “I saw Zach mid-afternoon,” Mary went on. “By the look on his face, his world had turned upside down and inside out.”

  Naomi’s flush deepened. She knew he’d been upset about Justin Moore visiting her again and staying in her Bed and Breakfast.

  “The man often won’t speak a word, as you well know.” Mary smoothed her apron over her lap. “But yesterday, he talked. I nearly swooned dead away. Said he was making a sign for you.”

  Naomi’s eyes went wide. “A sign?” she uttered.

  “Jah. For your Bed and Breakfast.”

  “Nee. Nee.” She shook her head. Zach was making her a sign?

  “What happened?”

  Naomi collapsed against the back of the rocker. “Ach, Mary. What a right fine muddle this is.”

  Mary frowned. “How about you tell me what’s happened.”

  “Justin Moore stayed sat my Bed and Breakfast last night.”

  “Justin… Wait, ain’t he that Englischer fellow? Wasn’t he your first guest?”

  “Jah.”

  “What was he doing back here?”

  Naomi groaned. “He came to bring me a gift.”

  Mary’s eyebrows shot up to the top of her forehead. “A gift?”

  “I didn’t take it.” Naomi paused. At first, she’d agreed to take it. In fact, she’d been glad for it. Excited. But in the end, she realized it wasn’t right. Accepting that gift would have opened a door she didn’t dare walk through. She sighed deeply, not wanting Mary to know all those details. “Justin ordered a sign made for my Bed and Breakfast. It was to be delivered today.”

  Mary began rocking, pushing her plain black shoes against the porch boards. “Mercy sakes. Mercy sakes.”

  “What exactly did Zach say to you?”

  “Not much. Just what I said, that he was making you a sign.”

  Naomi blew out her breath.

  “He’s sweet on you.” Mary stopped rocking and leaned forward. “He’s a gut man, Naomi. A right gut man.”

  “I know. I know that, Mary.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Naomi squeezed her hands together on her lap. “I have no idea.”

  Mary stood and brushed imaginary dust off her apron. “Well, I wanted you to know what he said. Now, I’ve delivered my message, and I need to be getting back to my own chores.”

  Naomi jumped up. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Mary took a step down and then turned back to Naomi. “This Englischer. He coming back again?”

  Naomi saw the worry on her face. “Nee. He’s not coming back anymore.”

  Mary nodded. “Gut.” And with that she clambered back into her cart, clucked her tongue, and rode away.

  Naomi sank back in her rocker. So Zach had been making her a sign. No wonder he’d reacted so strongly when Justin announced his gift of a sign. She grimaced. But why hadn’t Zach said anything about it to her? Was she supposed to read his mind? She gripped the arms of the rocker and shook her head. The man was beyond frustrating. One minute, he would act tender with her, and the next, he was like a cold brick walking away in silence.

  She remembered her recent conversation with Mary when her friend had told her about Zach’s first love, Marcy. That girl had stomped on his heart but good. While Naomi listened to the story, she’d been angry at Marcy, wondering how anyone could be so cruel.

  Now, she wondered whether Zach considered her cruel. But still, how was she supposed to know about his sign if he didn’t tell her. Making a quick decision, Naomi rose and walked down the steps and out to the barn. On the way, she scanned the fields, looking for Zach. It didn’t take long to spot him. He was out in the far right field, bending over the fence. It was hard to make out what he was doing from that distance, but she supposed the fence needed mending again. The posts were old and half-rotten, and Zach was always fussing with them. Naomi wondered why he bothered. It wasn’t as if a herd of wild cattle was going to trample through and crush his crops. But the previous owners had put the fences up, and Zach felt obliged to maintain them.

  Naomi hesitated for a moment, watching him. He cut a fine figure out there. Tall and sturdy. She closed her eyes and visualized his stark blue eyes gazing at her. He had a way of looking into her as if he saw her very heart. It was unnerving to say the least. But she found herself seeking him out, wanting him to see her, hoping he would come by.

  She shivered. All this was too much. She’d thought when she’d married Isaac that she was finished with all this courtship business. Courtship business? Was that what she was thinking? Was she falling for Zach? Did she think he was fixing to court her? She turned toward the barn and went inside. Whether she was falling for him or not, she wasn’t going to be the cause of his pain. She wasn’t going to add to the hurt Marcy had inflicted on him all those years ago.

  She grabbed a shovel and carried it down the drive to the road. The sorry-looking Bed and Breakfast sign she and her eleven-year-old daughter Katy had made was still staunchly in place. Naomi began digging up the rocky dirt around its base. They’d planted it deep to ensure it wouldn’t fall over, something she regretted right then as she worked through the stony ground.

  The late summer sun could still pack quite a sizzle, and it wasn’t long before she’d worked up a sweat. She was nearing the base of the sign now, and it was leaning precariously to the side. One more shovelful ought to do it. She was glad she wasn’t barefoot like usual. Using a shovel without shoes wasn’t a pleasant experience.

  She shoveled the last clump of dirt from the hole, and the sign gently lay over onto the ground. The poor thing looked like a felled tree. She gave it a grateful smile.

  “You may be ugly, but you did manage to bring in a few customers,” she said. She bent down and pulled it from the hole, wondering whether she should leave it lying there or take it back to the barn along with the shovel.

  “What are you doing?”

  Naomi spun around and faced Zachariah. He stood with his legs apart and a look of confusion on his face.

  “I thought you were out in the field,” she exclaimed.

  “I needed some wire for the fence.” He took a step closer, and she was deeply aware of his scent of work and fields and hot sun.

  “Oh.” She swallowed.

  “Won’t those sign people take care of this? Surely, that fancy place the Englischer hired doesn’t expect you to pull out the old sign yourself.” The disdain in his voice sounded unnatural coming from his lips.

  She straightened her shoulders. “You don’t thin
k so?” His sarcasm sparked something in her, and she found herself rankling under his gaze. “How would you know?”

  His jaw twitched, and his eyes darkened. “I don’t know.”

  “I thought I’d make things easier for them,” she snapped, wondering what in the world she was doing. Why didn’t she simply tell him that she’d refused the sign? That it wasn’t going to be delivered at all.

  “Where’s your guest?” Zach asked, his voice stiff.

  “Not here.” Again, why didn’t she simply tell him that Justin Moore had left? For good.

  Zach bent over and picked up the old sign. Without a word, he hoisted it onto his shoulder and headed back to the barn. Naomi scrambled to catch up, annoyed with both herself and him. Why couldn’t they have a civil conversation? Why must everything concerning Zachariah King be so hard?

  He lumbered into the barn and tossed the sign against the wall. He turned and took the shovel from her hand and set it beside the rake and hoe. She regarded him and wondered at his obvious anger. Was it all about the sign? And just when did he plan to tell her about the one he was making?”

  “For your information, Justin left,” she blurted.

  Zach’s gaze settled on her face. She saw his lips tighten, and she knew he was trying to read her.

  “Did you hear me?” she asked.

  “I heard you.” He continued to assess her.

  Her pulse was racing, and her throat went dry. Now. Now was the perfect time for him to say something, anything that might give her an idea of his intentions, but he didn’t speak. Naomi couldn’t take her eyes from his. It was as if he’d pulled her into some kind of vortex, and she was struggling to keep her head above water.

  Finally, he spoke. “He coming back?”

  She shook her head.

  “When’s his sign coming?”

  “It’s not.”