Protected by the Warrior

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Protected by the Warrior Page 23

by Barbara Phinney


  “Nay, not this netting. I have used the strongest rope and soaked it in stink gum. ’Tis a decent use for the foul stuff. See, the mama rabbit isn’t touching it. ’Tis far too bitter for her.” They watched the mother sniff around and then begin to build a nest, probably relieved to be out of the henhouse.

  “I’m glad we have her. She’s pretty,” Brindi announced. “I asked God for a kitten because the cat down the road had some, but they all died. I like our rabbit better. Funny how God didn’t give me what I asked for, but showed me what I really wanted all along.” She peered deeper into the cage. “We need more hay, not the stinky stuff from the henhouse. Can we get some now? Rypan took some from the fields for the stables today. He showed me where it was.”

  Clara agreed, thinking how good it would be to walk to the distant field and collect what they needed for the rest of the week. Anything to stop Brindi from chatting about how her prayers for a kitten had been answered in an even better way.

  Lord, am I just to ask You?

  Soon, they were headed around the keep, passing the bailey gate. Her heart sank. Kenneth stood outside. How long he’d been there, she couldn’t tell, but she knew one thing.

  Her heart wanted him in her life so very much.

  Lord, I love him. What am I supposed to do? Just ask?

  She slowed her pace, her gaze fixed on Kenneth’s and her heart thrilled that his fixed on hers. Brindi called out a greeting, thanking him for the doll and announcing that she had a new pet and they were off to get hay for it. Then she began the long, convoluted explanation about how she’d asked for a kitten, but got a mama rabbit instead. Clara groaned. The girl must simply stop telling the world their business.

  Kenneth smiled down at her, but the smile was smaller, more cautious than usual, she thought. Today, he wore a longer tunic, cinched at the waist and trimmed with embroidery she recognized as Lady Ediva’s unique style. ’Twas dark blue, a color she’d not seen on Kenneth before, but the expensive clothing suited him well.

  He’d abandoned his cloak, for the day was warm and fair. And he didn’t carry his sword, either. What had instigated this change? To the north there was such unrest, and yet here it was so peaceful that no sword was needed?

  He playfully tugged on one of Brindi’s braids. She’d forgotten her kerchief so often that her hair had begun to lighten to a warm golden color. At Kenneth’s simple gesture, Clara’s heart twisted.

  Lord, what is happening here? Do not jest with me, please. Tell me exactly what to do.

  Kenneth walked straight up to Clara, greeting her politely. Brindi asked if they may take a bit of the new hay from the field. “Of course. May I escort you there?”

  Her heart pounding, Clara nodded. She dared not breathe for fear this was but a dream. Why was he talking to her? Why was she finding herself praying fervently?

  With Brindi skipping on ahead, Clara and Kenneth walked more sedately to the upper field. The last cutting of hay for the year was finished and the air was still filled with the fresh scent.

  “Clara,” Kenneth began.

  She stopped him, unable to curtail the thoughts roiling within her. “Do not say anything that will hurt me, Kenneth, please! You know I weep at the drop of a hat and it has been worse than ever lately, especially since I left Rowena!”

  His brows shot up. “I never did understand why you were like that. You were firm and unyielding to me from the moment we met.”

  “I have to be. If I give in to this weepiness, I would never be able to work.”

  “Have you asked God for strength?”

  She looked away. “Nay, I have asked for nothing.”

  He touched his finger to her chin and guided her attention back to him. “Nothing at all? God wants to give you good gifts.”

  “But if they don’t include what I want?”

  “Which is?”

  She held her breath, then blurted out, “You! I want you! I don’t want just to see you in the bailey, doing exercises or training men or standing in the back of the chapel with the other soldiers. I want you! But you were so quick to agree with me that we should not be together the day you brought the doll, I tried to tell myself ’twas for the best.”

  He smiled, and fear and annoyance and hurt all rolled into one lump of something caught in her throat. “Stop laughing at me. I know I am but a silly maid sometimes, but I won’t ask for something that will be denied me!”

  “Will it? You seem to know all God’s answers without asking.”

  She stiffened her shoulders.

  “Ask Him. I did.”

  “What did you ask Him?”

  “I asked for you. And I have been given so much more.”

  Clara frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “King William has given me Lord Taurin’s estates. He’s made me the baron there. What Taurin tried to do was akin to treason and he will be tried for it in Normandy. He has a home there and is ordered to remain at it though all other lands have been taken from him.”

  “A sad end.”

  “And us? Do we have a sad end? I see you every day, busy about your work, and those around me say you look at me when I turn away. They say your look is filled with love. And you say you want me.”

  Heat flooded into her face.

  Kenneth took her hands. “Clara, marry me. Come with me. The estate is not as lavish as Colchester nor does it have as strong a keep as Dunmow, but ’tis a good place, with fine land and a warm house. I want you to be my baroness.”

  Her soul leaped within her, and she found herself wordless.

  Kenneth continued, “Brindi asked for a kitten and received a pregnant rabbit. I asked for you, that you’d accept a sergeant at arms who had been made a steward and that we’d find some way of making a life together within Dunmow Keep. Just as God increased the blessing He’s given Brindi, He has increased our blessing. These days away from you have taught me that my heart belongs with you, Clara. And I know yours belongs with me. Say you will be my wife.”

  “But what of my work here?”

  “Margaret has learned a lot, I’m told. And so has the cook. My new estate has no one and needs someone with good knowledge of birthing and healing.” He drew her closer. “Marry me, Clara. I love you. I want us to be together, always.”

  She stared hard into his eyes, but found her stare dissolving into a soft gaze. “I will be your wife.”

  He kissed her soundly, interrupted only when Brindi pushed herself between them. “Can we take the rabbit, too?”

  “Aye. She will have a grand pen, and we’ll let her litter go free in the forest to make our own warren of them.” He looked into Clara’s eyes. “We’ll make our family bigger, too.”

  She laughed, seeing him through blurring tears and through the love God had given her.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A MOTHER FOR HIS CHILDREN by Jan Drexler.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for choosing my book. I hope you enjoyed it. We met some of the characters in this book in my first medieval, Bound to the Warrior. But it was great fun to flesh out their lives, their thoughts and their personalities. In doing so, I discovered that Clara has a stubborn streak not unlike my own. I think we all have one, especially when it comes to something that is important to us, and sometimes it’s not a bad trait. But we must all learn to bend that will to God, and that’s where it gets hard. So as we ponder this book and continue in our lives, let’s consider how we can have the strength to do what’s right in God’s eyes and still be the wonderful, diverse creations He made us to be.

  I hope you will continue reading this series, as I give you Rowena’s story next.

  Blessings,

  Questions for Discussion

  What did you think of Clara hiding Rowena? Would you have done the same or trusted that God would keep her safe wherever she was?

  At the beginning of the book, did you get the sense that Clara refused to seek God’s will in all things?

 
; Kenneth was introduced in the previous story, Bound to the Warrior. If you read that one, did you feel he differed in that story?

  Did Kenneth’s personality ring true to you?

  Clara was stubborn, but weepy. Did that make sense? Has God softened your heart to the point of being weepy?

  Who was your favorite character? Why?

  Did you learn something from this story that you didn’t know before? What was it?

  When Adrien ordered all the women into the Great Hall, did you think he was deceiving Taurin? Why or why not? Was it right?

  Have you ever deliberately not asked God for something because you were afraid of the answer?

  Did you ever just go ahead and do something because you felt it was the best thing to do, without praying first?

  Did Taurin’s personality make sense to you? Have you ever known someone who would do anything to achieve their desired goal?

  In the beginning, while in the dungeon, Clara says a prayer for Lady Ediva’s safety. Do you feel it was a matter of “too little too late” or “praying after the deed was done”?

  Clara knew little of God, but had faith in Him. Would you say this faith is true, like a child’s? How would you describe your faith?

  Do you think that Rowena became a Christian? She prayed for her son, saying she wanted to be more like Clara. What would you have suggested to her?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  Chapter One

  Shipshewana, Indiana

  January, 1937

  “She’s old. Dat said so.”

  “Ja. Old and mean.”

  “Old and mean, and she has a big nose.”

  Levi Zook gave his four younger boys a meaningful glare before David could add to the list. “We don’t know what she looks like, but she sounded nice enough in her letters.”

  The notes Levi had exchanged with his new housekeeper from Lancaster County had been all business, but the letter of recommendation he received from the bishop in Bird-in-Hand had held the description he hoped for. The bishop had used words like competent, faithful and dedicated, all qualities he welcomed in a housekeeper. He could picture her in his mind: slightly plump, eager to please, gray hair and a face lined with comfortable wrinkles. A grandmotherly type who could teach his daughters the way to keep house.

  His youngest son, five-year-old Sam, bounced on his toes in anticipation when he heard the train blow its whistle at the edge of town. Clouds of steam rose in the air above the stark, black tree limbs as the train slowed. All four boys pressed forward to be the first to see the engine as it rounded the last curve before arriving at the Shipshewana depot.

  A good half foot taller than the crowd of people on the platform, Levi watched the train rumble over the crossing at Morton Street. Three passenger cars followed the tender. Behind them, freight car doors slid open as furtive figures jumped from the train to disappear between the grain elevator and Smith’s machine shop. Hobos. Tramps. Even on such a frozen day as this. Levi hunched his shoulders at the thought of how cold those men must be as they searched for food and shelter for the night. He doubted if any of them would make it as far as his farm. In weather like this, the men looked for handouts or jobs closer to town.

  The squeal of metal grinding on metal brought him back to the passenger cars. He ducked to see into the windows, but all he could see were Englischer faces. No Amish bonnet.

  Jesse tugged at Levi’s sleeve as he pointed a mittened hand toward the last of the passenger cars.

  “Is that her, Dat?”

  A tall Amish woman appeared in the doorway of the far train car. Levi watched as she scanned the crowded platform. Could this be her? Ne, she was much too young. She couldn’t be very far into her twenties. Her blue eyes met his, then passed him by before she stepped off the train and onto the platform.

  Levi continued watching each person alight from the train until no more appeared. There were no other Amish women, certainly not the middle-aged spinster he was expecting.

  “She’s the only one left, Dat. Could she be the one?”

  The lone Amish woman stood in the middle of the platform with a suitcase at her feet as the people around her made their way to waiting automobiles, trucks and wagons.

  “I don’t think so, Sam.” Levi looked at the young woman again. She glanced their way once, her face uncertain. She looked a bit lost, as if she had been expecting someone to meet her. Meanwhile, Ruth Mummert, the housekeeper he was expecting, had never shown up. Had they miscommunicated? Did he have the date of her arrival wrong?

  “That isn’t her.” James turned his back on the train and the lone figure on the platform. “She’s too pretty.”

  “Well, boys, we can’t stand here all day. We’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  David nodded his head at the young woman. “Should we give her a ride?”

  “Ja, son.” Levi herded the boys in the direction of the woman, now standing with her back to them, her eyes on his big family buggy with Champ tied to the rail. “We can’t leave her here by herself.”

  The woman turned to watch him as they approached, her blue eyes deep within the shadows of her black bonnet flashing with hope before dismissing him by turning her head away again.

  “Can we help you?” Levi’s question brought those eyes back to his. “Can we give you a ride somewhere?”

  “I was expecting someone to meet me at the train....” Her accent betrayed her eastern home.

  “We were meeting someone, too,” Sam said.

  Levi laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder to remind him to let his elders speak. “Who were you meeting? I probably know where they live and can take you there.”

  The young woman’s cheeks were red with the cold. Levi wanted to hurry her into his buggy, where the foot warmer was waiting for them. “I was supposed to meet Levi Zook, but he hasn’t shown up. Do you know him?”

  “I should know him. I’m Levi Zook. You aren’t Ruth Mummert, are you?” This young, beautiful woman couldn’t be the spinster he had been writing to.

  “Ja, Ruth Mummert.” She nodded, eyeing him. “But you’re not the Levi Zook who has hired me to be his housekeeper. He’s a much older man than you.”

  The boys stifled giggles while Levi pulled his glove off and dug in his pocket for her latest letter.

  “I am Levi Zook.” He held the paper out to her. “Here’s your letter accepting the job as my housekeeper and telling me which train you’d be on.”

  She took the letter from his hand and unfolded it, nodding quickly when she saw the handwriting.

  “It looks like I assumed wrong, Levi Zook.” She smiled at him as she folded the paper again and gave it to him. “But now that’s cleared up and I’m sure we won’t have any other misunderstandings.”

  Levi’s return smile faded as she turned to greet the boys. What would she say when she met the rest of his children? In all their correspondence, he had never mentioned how many children he had, and she had never asked. He scratched his beard. He had never asked about her age or circumstances, either. Wasn’t she too young for this job? She couldn’t have the experience he had hoped for. They had both made assumptions, but she was here now, and he might as well give her a try.

  “We should start for home. Our buggy is over here.” Levi leaned down to take her bag and led the way, the boys following. Before giving her a hand into the seat, Levi felt the warming pan on the floor. He’d need to replenish it before starting the trip home.

&nb
sp; “I’ll just take this into the station and get some fresh coals. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back.”

  Ruth Mummert made a quick nod at his words, but the glance she gave him was unsure, as if she already regretted her decision to take the job. And then the uncertainty was gone, replaced by a quick smile. When she discovered the extent of the job he had hired her for, would she smile and call that a “misunderstanding,” too?

  * * *

  Ruthy climbed into the front seat of the strange-looking black buggy. The ones at home had gray covers—just one of many differences she would have to adjust to, she decided. Gathering her shawl closely around her, she buried her chin in its folds. Indiana was colder than the winter weather she had left at home in Bird-in-Hand.

  She peered out the front window of the buggy at the man walking into the train station with the warming pan. Levi Zook wasn’t what she had been expecting. When he described himself as a widower and said his daughter had been caring for him since her mother died, she had assumed he would be nearly her father’s age, but this man looked closer to thirty than sixty.

  The boys were a surprise. Her mind skirted around the glaring omission in Levi Zook’s letter. He had mentioned that he expected her to care for his children, but he never said how many children he had. What did it matter? How many could he have? Five, maybe six? After growing up with three brothers, Ruthy knew how to handle boys. Washing muddy trousers and feeding hungry, growing young men was nothing new to her. And then there was his daughter, Waneta. So one girl to help out, at least.

  The back door of the buggy opened and the biggest boy jumped into the middle seat, and then two of his brothers followed. They all wore identical dark coats and navy blue knit caps.

  “I got here first, David. Let me sit by James.”

  “Ne, I want to sit in the middle.”

 

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