Amish Romance Box Set: Finding Home

by Brenda Maxfield

  Marcy shook her head. “I get it. I was Amish for years. These things aren’t spoken about. Well, I’m Englisch now. A fancy girl. So I can speak as I wish. Zach would hardly listen to me. Oh, he stood there all right, and I saw the pain in his eyes. He’s still not over me, but he won’t take me back. Lord! I was even willing to play Amish with him.” She shook her head and reached out to take the bag of cookies. “Letting him go is the one regret I have. But at the time, I couldn’t have Zach and my new freedom. I tried more than once. You know, coming back, going to Sunday meeting. It about killed me.”

  She got up and stepped close to Naomi, staring deeply into her eyes. “You’re a good woman. I can see that. I wish you well.”

  Without a further word, she turned on her heel and left, her hips gently swaying in her snug jeans. Naomi watched her go, emotions tumbling through her heart.

  Despite the girl’s frankness, despite her brazenness, Naomi liked her. Marcy Blackenship had an appeal, a careless magnetism that drew a person. Naomi peered through the kitchen window and saw her car disappear down the drive. She wished her well, too.

  Somehow, she knew Marcy would land on her feet.

  Chapter Six

  If Naomi thought that once Marcy left, Zach would make a move in their relationship, she was dead wrong. During the next day and a half, she didn’t see him. She wasn’t even sure he came to work in the fields. She was too busy in the house, packing and sorting.

  “Did Zach King give you an answer yet?” Marvin asked her on the third day. “I’ve spoken with some realtors, but until we have an answer from Zach, I don’t feel right about listing it.”

  “Listing it?”

  “The farm. With the realtors. I think it only fair that Zach get first chance.”

  “He hasn’t answered me.” Naomi hated to admit it, but she was hurt. Zach hadn’t even come around to ask how the packing was going. Nor had he come around to check on Ben and how he was faring with the prospect of moving, and the two of them were close. “You can ask Zach yourself, Marvin.”

  “Perhaps he’s been getting the finances he needs to buy the place.” Marvin looked down at the box Naomi was filling with knickknacks from the front room. “You taking that stuff?”

  Naomi paused, her hands falling to her sides. “You don’t think I should?”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t look too important to me.”

  Inwardly, Naomi balked. Since he was forcing this move on her, the least he could do was be more supportive. He must have noticed her reaction. “Ah, don’t listen to me, Naomi. If Ruth was here, she’d scold me for being cold-hearted.”

  Naomi smiled. She liked her sister-in-law. In truth, it would be nice to see her again. “Ruth would be right.”

  Marvin laughed. “Is Zach out in the fields today?”

  “I haven’t seen him.”

  “Well, if you do, tell him I need to talk with him.”

  So do I, she thought. But since Marcy’s leaving, Zach had seemed to disappear right along with her.

  Marvin wandered off, and Naomi stood up. She straightened to her full height and decided that she was going to get an answer from Zach once and for all. He either wanted the farm or he didn’t. This silly business of ignoring her question had gone too far.

  She tossed down her apron and marched out to the barn to hitch up the pony cart. She’d go to Zach’s home herself. Granted, it wasn’t the normal course of action for an Amish woman. In fact, Mary would scold her heartily if she knew what Naomi was doing. But right then, Naomi didn’t care. She’d be leaving the district soon, anyway, so what did it matter now?

  She hollered to Marvin to please watch the children, and she didn’t wait until he had a chance to question her. Marvin would have a fit, too, if he knew what she was planning to do. She quickly got about the business of hitching up Myrtle. The faster she got the horse hitched up, the faster she could leave.

  Since Isaac’s passing, Naomi had gotten a lot of practice with hitching up a horse, and it did her in good stead right then. Within minutes, Myrtle was secure to the pony cart, and she was trotting down the drive and out to the road. Naomi ignored her misgivings about her mission. She knew Zach lived with his folks, and she prayed that they wouldn’t be the ones to answer the door.

  Within fifteen minutes, she’d arrived. She’d never been to the King farm before, and she wasn’t sure whether Zach lived in the main house or the daadi haus. Her bravado had completely faded, and she suddenly felt foolish and just plain wrong to be approaching either one of the houses. Then she spotted an outbuilding whose door was open. Perhaps if she wondered that direction, she’d meet Zach without having to go to the front door at all.

  She slipped down from the cart and cautiously approached the open door. Inside was a wood-working shed. Piles of sawdust lay on the floor, and she heard the scraping sounds of what she thought might be a chisel or a planer. She peeked further inside and saw Zach bent over a board, his hair hanging in tendrils over his forehead and a look of complete concentration on his face. She stood a moment and watched him. Admiration for him burned in her chest. He was such a fine person. She hated that he’d been hurt again with Marcy’s return, for she knew without asking that it had hurt him. But he’d rejected Marcy. And that had to have been a victory for him, no matter how painful.

  She leaned her head against the wooden doorframe and watched the muscles in his arms ripple as he hammered the chisel into the wood. What was he making, anyway? She couldn’t see it clearly from her vantage point.

  Zach must have felt her presence for he abruptly looked up. When he saw her, he dropped both the chisel and the hammer. He stared at her.

  She flushed. “Zach. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He stepped quickly in front of what he was working on, as if to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

  She winced at his curt tone. Wasn’t he happy to see her at all? “I-I, well, I need an answer from you.”

  “About the purchase?”

  “Jah.” She held her breath. Her heart raced as she stared at his dark expression. Was he angry?

  He didn’t move.

  “U-uh,” she stuttered. “You haven’t been around the last couple days. I was worried.”

  He nodded, a small almost imperceptible movement. “No need to worry.”

  She took one step forward. “Still. I did worry.”

  His eyes clung to hers, analyzing her, assessing her. She squirmed under his gaze, wondering what he was thinking. What he was hiding on the work table behind him.

  She took another step closer. Couldn’t he see the love she had for him? Couldn’t he sense her longing for him? For his touch, however brief?

  Still, he didn’t move.

  “What are you working on?” she asked. Somehow, she knew that whatever was hidden behind his back was somehow vital to her. And to him.

  Another step. His eyes searched her face, reaching into her thoughts.

  “Can I see?” she asked, tilting her head toward the space behind him.

  Without taking his eyes from hers, he moved aside.

  There on the table was a sign. A beautiful, carved sign. She immediately saw the words Bed and Breakfast in bold thick letters. But the spot where the word Byler’s had been carved was sanded over. She moved closer, bending over the wood. Byler’s was mostly gone, and in its place the word King’s appeared. It wasn’t finished, and right then, it looked a bit of a mess, but she could clearly see what he was doing.

  She jolted back, as if she’d been punched. He was going to take over her Bed and Breakfast! He planned not only to buy her farm but to take her business? She clasped her heart and nearly doubled over from the realization. He could hardly wait till she was gone before he swooped in and took it all.

  She gulped hard, and tears flooded her eyes. “You-you—” she choked out, but couldn’t continue.

  “Naomi?” He moved to her and reached out for her arm. “Naomi?”

  She jerked back,
harder. “You’re taking my Bed and Breakfast?” She stared at him with raging accusation in her eyes. She didn’t even know why she was so upset. She was leaving. She’d offered him the farm. What difference did it make if he continued with the Bed and Breakfast, too?

  She turned and fled from the shop. Blindly, she clambered into the pony cart and snapped the reins.

  “Naomi!” he cried behind her.

  Wildly, she hollered at Myrtle to get going. They hadn’t gone more than a yard or two, when Zach caught up and reached into the cart, grabbing the reins from her hands and yanking back. Myrtle snorted and stopped short.

  “Naomi? What are you doing?”

  “Getting out of here! Getting away from you!”

  Through her tears, she saw the shock and pain on his face. He shook his head, his mouth open and his face flushed. “Naomi?”

  “Quit saying my name! You want it all, don’t you! My farm and my business!”

  She was mortified at herself. She was not making a lick of sense. He wasn’t taking anything from her. She had offered the farm to him, and she was leaving.

  “Nee. Nee.” He shook his head and desperation was on his face. “You don’t understand!”

  “I understand just fine!” she cried. “You don’t even care that I’m leaving!”

  He dropped the reins then and grabbed her face with his calloused hands. Without any hesitation at all, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss sent the pit of her stomach into a wild shocked swirl. Stunned, she pushed back, gasping. “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t you understand? Haven’t I made myself clear?”

  “What?” she cried. “Made yourself clear? All you’ve made clear is that you don’t care a fig that I’m leaving! All you’ve made clear is that you’re angry at me for some reason!” She took a great heaving breath and glared holes through him.

  He shook his head. “Naomi, Naomi.”

  “Quit saying my name!” The man was stark raving mad.

  “I won’t quit saying your name. I won’t.” He touched her cheek, brushing the back of his hand against it in a gesture so tender, so sweetly gentle, that Naomi burst into tears.

  “Ah, Naomi,” he whispered. “I want you to marry me. Don’t you see? The Bed and Breakfast would become King’s Bed and Breakfast. I wanted to surprise you.” His eyes filled with tears. “Please say you will. Please, Naomi. Say you’ll marry me.”

  She blinked rapidly and let his words settle into her brain, into her heart. Her mouth dropped open. “You want to marry me?” she uttered.

  “I love you.” He stood stiffly, as if afraid she would disappear. “I have for a long time now.”

  “Zach!”

  He grinned at her, and it was as if all the world’s light broke forth on his face. “Quit saying my name.”

  She laughed then, a joyous sound enveloping both of them. “Never,” she teased. “I will never stop saying your name. Zach.” Naomi’s voice had gone breathless. “I love you, too.”

  He put his arms around her and lifted her from the cart, setting her feet gently on the grass. She lay against him, snuggling her head beneath his chin. He kissed the top of her kapp and let out a sigh of obvious relief.

  But Naomi couldn’t stay still. She pulled away. “But all this time, all this time, I didn’t think you cared about me at all. You never said a thing.”

  Zach cast his eyes to the ground and went quiet. Then he looked at her. “I didn’t think you cared about me. You were still reeling from Isaac’s death.” His eyes misted over. “And then, just as I thought you were healing, Justin Moore came into the picture.”

  Naomi flushed at his reference to the handsome Englischer. “I’m sorry. I was a fool. Like you said, I was still reeling, and I was hurting. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  He took both of her shoulders in his firm grasp. “I know you were hurting. And I was, well, I didn’t handle Justin’s appearance at the Bed and Breakfast well.”

  “If I’d known how you felt…”

  He shook his head. “Nee, Naomi. It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  She looked into his eyes, and she’d never been so certain of anything in her life. “But it would have. I wouldn’t have accepted Justin’s sign, nor would I have welcomed him to stay again at the Bed and Breakfast. It would have made a great deal of difference. A great deal.”

  He gave a slight intake of breath and bent down to kiss her again. Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed deeply into her eyes. “So is that a yes? You’ll marry me?”

  She nodded as the tears coursed down her cheeks. “I’ll marry you. Of course, I’ll marry you!”

  He grinned, and for a split second, she thought he would burst into tears, too. Then he asked, “Shall we tell the children?”

  “Right away.” She could hardly contain her excitement.

  “Do you think they’ll be all right with it?”

  She smiled. “Ben will be over the moon. And Katy, ah, our dear Katy, she’ll come around. And right quick, I’m thinking.”

  Zach squeezed her to him and then let her go. He tenderly helped her back into the pony cart, and she scooted over on the bench to make room for him. He climbed up and the cart dipped under his weight.

  “Shall we go?”

  Naomi nodded and looped her arm through his. “Jah,” she said, and her voice was full of eager consent.

  Epilogue

  The ride back from Zach’s house in the pony cart seems like a precious dream to me now. I think of that short trip often, remembering the joy that burst through me at every turn, and remembering how I glanced up at Zach constantly, feeling the need to reassure myself that he was really there, beside me.

  I couldn’t wait to get back to tell the children. And I couldn’t wait to tell Mary. I didn’t have to leave! I could stay in Hollybrook for the rest of my days.

  Never, for an instant, did I think I would fall in love again after Isaac died. If I ever remarried, I figured it would be mostly for my children’s sake. For them to have a father figure in their lives, and for all of us to have someone to help provide for us. I never thought I’d fall so deeply in love with another man.

  But I did. I love Zach so much that sometimes it takes my breath away. I don’t think of Zach in comparison to Isaac. I don’t really even think of him as my second husband. There’s no need. Isaac’s and my life chapter together is complete. A cherished, much-loved memory. But Zach is my husband in his own way, and our love is unique in that it belongs to just the two of us. God has indeed blessed me far beyond what I ever dreamed possible.

  When we got back to my farm that afternoon, Marvin was pacing the porch. He was angry, but when he saw Zach with me, his expression turned first to curiosity and then relief. I knew he thought Zach was coming to tell him that he’d purchase the farm. When Zach shared his real intent, Marvin collapsed in a rocker and stared at us. I couldn’t help but giggle—seeing Marvin speechless for once in his life did my heart good.

  I went upstairs to find Ben and when I told him the news, he flew down the steps and into Zach’s arms. The two of them remained like that, pressed together tightly for the longest time. I stood by and wept to see it. I wept for Isaac and all that he was missing. But mostly, I wept with joyous contentment that Ben was being given the gift of a second father.

  Katy reacted much as I thought she would. Hesitant at first. Grumpy about it, too, if the truth be told. But Zach’s quiet presence at every dinner for the following week softened her. And when she saw that her uncle approved, that went in Zach’s favor, too. And of course, Katy wouldn’t have to leave her best friend which was a very nice thing for her.

  Since the marriage, she’s come fully around. She even bakes a pie every now and then for Zach. If any of us touches it, she playfully slaps our hands away and announces that it’s for Zach’s appetite only.

  My family back in Pennsylvania was shocked at the news to say the least. But I ended up getting kind letters from most of them. Ma
rvin’s assessment of Zach’s fine character helped. They were especially mollified when I told them we’d try to make a trip out east to visit them soon.

  But we won’t be going for a while. Zach and I are awaiting our first boppli. The little one is due come August. A busy time, to be sure, what with the harvesting and the canning to be done. But I have Mary to help me. And Katy. Together, we will do just fine.

  As for King’s Bed and Breakfast, it is humming along. I usually have guests once or maybe twice a week. Which is enough for now. It would be hard to handle more.

  My life is full. Full and happy. Ach, sometimes it feels like it’s overflowing! Which after the last two years is wonderful, indeed.

  I probably should mention that the sign King’s Bed and Breakfast looks right fine at the end of the drive. On more than one occasion, I’ve stood before it solely to admire its beauty. It does a good job of bringing in new guests, too.

  The End

  Continue Reading…

  Thank you for reading Finding Home! Are you wondering what to read next?

  Why not read The Amish Beekeeper? Here’s a sample for you:

  Winnie Hilty’s arthritic hand darted out and batted at her daughter’s shoulder.

  “I hear them,” her voice scratched out. “Get them off of you. Get them off!” She grew increasingly agitated. “It’s the buzzing! It won’t stop.”

  “Mamm,” Rhoda said, her voice soft and crooning. “There are no bees on me. They’re all outside.” She grabbed her mother’s thin hands and pressed them to the old woman’s lap. “Don’t fret so. Everything’s fine.”

  Winnie’s watery eyes stared into Rhoda’s. There was a blankness there that grabbed Rhoda’s heart. Her mother was worse—and she was getting worse every day.

  “Come on,” Rhoda said, putting her arms around the woman’s shoulders. “Let’s get you to the kitchen. You can sit by the warming stove, and we’ll have a nice cup of tea.”