by Price, Sarah
Praise for Sarah Price
“The Plain Fame series gives a unique insight to some of the harsh life challenges that artists face when trying to balance fame and their personal lives. These books tell the story from the artist’s perspective. Highly recommended!” —Aton Ben-Horin, Director of Worldwide Rhythm & Pop A&R, Warner Music Group
“Plain Fame has a unique story line that will keep you up late at night hiding under your blanket with a flashlight, trying to squeeze in one last page before you head into La La Land. Yes, it’s that good! I love that I loved these characters so much. They are as different as night and day . . . an Amish girl and a famous pop star brought together by an unfortunate accident involving a limo. Or was it unfortunate? Some may say it was fate pulling these two together like a magnet to metal. The only thing for certain is that their lives are about to be forever altered . . .” —Sue Laitinen, book reviewer for DestinationAmish.com
“Once again Sarah Price does not disappoint. I have enjoyed every book that I have read by her. Plain Fame is a little different from your normal ‘Amish’ novel. Readers who don’t normally read Amish novels will like this one, as it, in my opinion, is more about how fame affects someone rather than being just an Amish novel.” —Debbie Curto, book reviewer from Debbie’s Dusty Deliberations
“Amish Christian romance like none other—Sarah Price opens both her characters and her readers to new worlds. This love story could easily become a classic as two lives from opposite cultures collide, creating intense conflict and romance. Plain Fame was my introduction to Sarah Price and the beginning of my Price addiction.” —Lisa Bull, blogger of Captured by My Thoughts
ALSO BY SARAH PRICE
An Empty Cup
An Amish Buggy Ride
The Secret Sister: An Amish Christmas Tale
The Plain Fame Series
Plain Fame
Plain Change
Plain Again
Plain Return
The Amish of Lancaster Series
Fields of Corn
Hills of Wheat
Pastures of Faith
Valley of Hope
The Amish of Ephrata Series
The Tomato Patch
The Quilting Bee
The Hope Chest
The Clothes Line
The Amish Classic Series
First Impressions (Realms)
The Matchmaker (Realms)
Second Chances (Realms)
Sense and Sensibility: An Amish Retelling of Jane Austen’s Classic (Realms)
For a complete listing of books, please visit the author’s website at www.sarahpriceauthor.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2016 Price Publishing, LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Waterfall Press, Grand Haven, MI
www.brilliancepublishing.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Waterfall Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503933217
ISBN-10: 1503933210
Cover design by Eileen Carey
Three years ago, I first “met” Alejandro and Amanda. They evolved into real people for many of my readers (and for me, too).
The inspiration came from my own “celebrity crush” on worldwide superstar Pitbull. After writing the first two books, I met him. The day was May 31, 2013—the very day I was diagnosed with breast cancer. He inspired and comforted me during a very difficult period in my life. Writing these books kept my spirits high during the complications of my treatment.
So I dedicate this book—and the entire series—to Pitbull.
Gracias, amigo. <3
Contents
About the Vocabulary
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
Epilogue
Glossary
About the Author
About the Vocabulary
The Amish speak Pennsylvania Dutch (also called Amish German or Amish Dutch). This is a verbal language with variations in spelling among communities throughout the United States. For example, in some regions, a grandfather is grossdaadi, while in other regions he is known as grossdawdi. Some dialects refer to the mother as mamm or maem, and others simply as mother or mammi.
In addition, there are words and expressions, such as mayhaps, or the use of the word then at the end of sentences, and, my favorite, for sure and certain, that are not necessarily from the Pennsylvania Dutch language/dialect but are unique to the Amish.
The use of these words comes from my own experience living among the Amish in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
Chapter One
Amanda would have never expected that the one thing she didn’t want to give Alejandro was the one thing he would take: his freedom.
Two weeks had passed. Two long weeks with no word from Alejandro. He hadn’t contacted her, and despite her desire to reach out to him, each morning she merely looked at the cell phone on her kitchen counter, willing it to ring.
It didn’t.
Now, as she stood on the small hill at the back of her family’s farm, wiping the sweat from her brow, she looked around at the familiar surroundings. They felt surprisingly foreign, as foreign to her as visiting Colombia, Brazil, and Argentina had felt.
How, she wondered, did I end up back here, caring for Isadora and separated from Alejandro?
The sun had barely crested the horizon. The full impact of its powerful heat was still hours away, but she needed a moment’s break to catch her breath. Perspiration glistened against her forehead and down her neck. Even her back felt damp. Her dress, a simple floral pattern that brushed against her knees, did not keep her cool enough given the work that they were doing.
Up ahead she saw Jonas and Harvey working the team of Belgian mules that pulled the plow through the dry dirt of the fields in preparation for planting corn. As the mules pulled the plow, the earth parted behind the moldboard, dividing it in a smooth, fluid motion and leaving behind a narrow trench. It was like watching the ocean as it rose up in gentle waves, the only difference being that the footprint of the plow left behind neat rows of tilled soil whereas the ocean waves rolled onto the sand and then back to the sea.
The ocean.
She shut her eyes. The first time she saw the ocean was in Los Angeles. Alejandro had taken her to the beach just outside the city proper. She had never walked on sand that was so soft nor had she felt the gentle push and pull from waves. In Miami, the ocean was something she saw on a daily basis from the rooftop patio of Alejandro’s condominium. She could stand at the wall and watch it for hours, the rise and fall of the water mesmer
izing her as it pushed toward shore.
She took a deep breath as if she could smell the salt air. Instead, she smelled the fresh scent of dirt, a more familiar, if not as pleasant, scent.
She wondered if Alejandro was in Miami or Los Angeles. Certainly he had not yet departed for Europe. In the two weeks since he had left, she had done her best to remain unemotional and calm. She knew Isadora needed stability, not drama, in her young life. The farm provided that for Isadora. What she hadn’t counted on was Alejandro’s reaction. While Amanda tried to wear a brave face, on the inside, her emotions churned, going from heartbreak to humiliation and from angst to anger.
As hard as she tried, she could not shake the image of Alejandro leaving on that morning. It was seared in her memory. The coldness with which he’d spoken to her and the dismissive way in which he merely turned and walked away conflicted with everything she’d learned about her husband. She could not wrap her mind around the idea that she had been deserted. Where had everything gone wrong? she wondered.
“You all right, then?” a deep voice said from behind her.
Amanda shifted her attention from her inner sanctuary to the man behind her. She tried to smile as she turned to Harvey. Her arms wrapped around her waist, as if that would help her hold things together. Amanda nodded her head. “Ja, just fine,” she said.
He placed his hand on her shoulder, a gesture that caused Amanda to look away. “You don’t have to be out here, Amanda,” Harvey said. “We’ll do just fine the two of us. ’Sides, Izzie will be looking for you shortly.”
Again, she nodded her head. “I know.”
“But you do what you have to,” Harvey said, a soft expression on his tanned face.
She managed to smile at him. After all of his kindness to her and her family, it was the least she could do to let Harvey know how much she appreciated his compassion.
Two weeks, she thought as she watched Harvey walk back to Jonas, who was adjusting the harness on one of the mules.
It was hard for her to face the truth: her husband had left her on her parents’ farm and gone off to continue his own life, separated from her and their daughter, Isadora. After all that they’d been through, she couldn’t comprehend that their marriage might actually be over. So much had happened in the year since they’d met—from the accident in New York City to the onslaught of paparazzi in Lancaster to the whirlwind romance that took her to cities she never even knew existed: Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and Miami.
And then they had gotten married in autumn.
She’d known that marrying Alejandro would not be easy. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. That had never been the question. But the South American tour had been especially hard for Amanda. On a continent where she could not communicate culturally or linguistically, their differences had emerged in full force. In his interactions with the sophisticated and exotically beautiful women that always appeared magically backstage and with his friend Enrique Lopez, another Latin superstar, Amanda had watched Alejandro transform into Viper, the womanizing international sensation who charmed everyone he met. His nights began to linger into the morning hours and between all of his interviews and obligations, she rarely saw him. Gradually, she found herself spending more time alone than with him.
Neither of them had been prepared for the arrival of Isadora, his five-year-old daughter from a long-ago one-night stand with a Brazilian woman. Amanda had known about the daughter. Alejandro had told her about the child when they first met. But because he had no relationship with the daughter or the mother, Alejandro never mentioned them again. Frankly, Amanda had forgotten about it.
So when the Brazilian government worker arrived with the child, explaining that Isadora was headed to an orphanage if Alejandro and Amanda did not take her, the shock of suddenly becoming parents had overwhelmed both of them.
“Amanda?”
She looked up at the sound of her name carried on the morning breeze. Jonas was waving to her, beckoning her to help them.
Obediently, and grateful for the interruption to her racing thoughts, she hurried down the field and joined the two men.
Her brother-in-law stood by the larger of the two mules, examining a piece of leather. “Ach, it’s broken, I reckon.”
Amanda peered over his shoulder at the tie strap. The ring that held it to the trace carrier, the piece of leather across the mule’s rump that kept the plow attached to the harness had, indeed, torn off. “That’s not gut,” she said. “I don’t think I remember Daed having an extra one.”
Harvey took off his hat and wiped his brow with the back of his arm. “I can run over to the harness shop, fetch a new one.” His offer would save them time. As a Mennonite, he drove a car. It would be much faster than Amanda or Jonas hitching a horse to a buggy and riding over. “Amanda, you want to ride along?”
She was about to decline, but Jonas nodded his head. “You haven’t left the farm since Alejandro left. Might do you some good.”
She was too surprised that Jonas had mentioned Alejandro to turn down Harvey’s offer. It was the first time Jonas, or anyone besides her sister, Anna, had said anything about her husband. It just wasn’t the Amish way to pry into someone else’s business, especially if it involved marital problems.
The morning that he’d left, her family had quietly accepted Amanda’s explanation for Alejandro’s abrupt departure. She told them that he had meetings and she hadn’t wanted to leave yet, especially with Isadora’s progress adapting to her new life in America. Despite her puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks, they simply listened to her, nodded, and never asked another question about him.
Later that morning, in the privacy of the grossdaadihaus where Amanda stayed with Isadora, Anna had inquired further. When Amanda burst into tears, sobbing into her hands, she shared the entire story. She told her sister about the South American tour, the truth about Isadora’s appearance in their lives, about Alejandro’s rebuffing the child and leaving her in Amanda’s care, and the final hours of their time together.
As any good sister would do, Anna listened and then embraced Amanda, holding her while she cried. Afterward, the rest of the family seemed to look at her with a sense of pity, something Amanda detested. But they never asked any questions. When it came to matters of the heart between husband and wife, they wouldn’t interfere or probe for more information.
While grateful for their unspoken support, Amanda disliked the cautious way that they treated her, as if she were a fragile doll, ready to break at any moment. Her only relief had been Isadora, who asked only once where “Papi” had gone. When Amanda explained that Papi had gone away on business, Isadora had never mentioned him again.
“Ready, Amanda?” Harvey asked, the broken tie strap and trace carrier in his hands.
She nodded and followed him as he walked across the field toward his car parked behind the barn.
The number of paparazzi camped out by the entrance to the farm had declined since Alejandro’s leaving. With Amanda staying on the farm and no news to report, most of the photographers had moved on to something—and someone—else in the hopes of capturing their moneymaking photos. A few remained, and when Harvey drove past them, they eagerly snapped photos of Amanda riding in the car with him. She ignored them, for once unaffected by their intrusive lenses and knowing that at least one of the photographs would make the tabloids and social media news by evening.
“You’d think they’d give up,” Harvey said as he drove down the road.
Amanda shrugged in a casual sort of way. “You’d think so, but they don’t.”
“It’s invasive.”
She smiled as she looked out the window. She liked how straightforward Harvey spoke, never saying too much but always willing to speak his mind in a quiet and calm manner, without any drama. “They hardly bother me anymore.”
He nodded as if he understood.
Feeling as if she should fill the silence in the car, Amanda explained, “Those few photographers are nothing like the papar
azzi at the airports and arenas. The Englischers sure do have a propensity for enjoying gossip about their favorite celebrities, I reckon.”
Harvey chuckled under his breath. “No different from the Amish grapevine, wouldn’t you say?”
She smiled. “Ja, I reckon so.”
Even though the Amish community shunned all worldliness, allowing access to the advances in the outside world only when permitted by the bishop of each church district, the Amish were human beings and spread stories as much as non-Amish people. The only difference was that the Englischers had access to technology, so news traveled slower among the Amish communities.
Amanda remembered when she first returned to Lancaster with Alejandro. Women in Lititz, as well as surrounding towns, had known about her arrival with the famous singer, Viper. Not long after the paparazzi located her parents’ farm, Alejandro had left in the hopes that they would follow. But the reporters stayed behind. For the next few weeks, the gossip among the Amish grapevine had focused on the prying lenses at the end of the photographers’ cameras, all on account of Amanda. On the few occasions she’d managed to leave the farm, she knew that the Amish people stared at her. The younger ones might have stared at her in awe, while the older ones scowled and scorned her. On more than one occasion, the bishop had arrived with a tabloid in his hand, angry that so much attention was focused on their community.
“Just worse, I imagine,” Harvey added.
“Much worse.”
Harvey cleared his throat and glanced at her. “Ever think about calling him, Amanda?”
She shook her head. Harvey knew better than to ask that question. Only once had she gone against the unspoken rule from her upbringing about a woman reaching out to a man. That had been when Alejandro first left her after the accident and the bishop wanted her to leave the community, perhaps to return to Ohio to stay with family. Amanda had resisted; she didn’t want to be shuffled from Amish community to Amish community, nor had she wanted to interfere with her sister’s budding romance with Jonas. So Amanda had approached the media that lingered by the driveway and spoken to them, hoping against hope that Alejandro would receive the message.
