by Kelly Irvin
ACCLAIM FOR KELLY IRVIN
“A moving and compelling tale about the power of grace and forgiveness that reminds us how we become strongest in our most broken moments.”
— LIBRARY JOURNAL FOR UPON A SPRING BREEZE
“Irvin’s novel is an engaging story about despair, postnatal depression, God’s grace, and second chances.”
— CBA CHRISTIAN MARKET
“A warm-hearted novel that is more than a romance, with lovable characters, including two innocent children caught in the red tape of government and two people willing to risk breaking both the Englisch and Amish law to help in whatever way they can. There are subplots that focus on the struggles of undocumented immigrants.”
— RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4-STAR REVIEW OF THE SADDLE MAKER’S SON
“Irvin has given her audience a continuation of The Beekeeper’s Son with complicated young characters who must define themselves.”
— RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4-STAR REVIEW OF THE BISHOP’S SON
“Once I started reading The Bishop’s Son, it was difficult for me to put it down! This story of struggle, faith, and hope will draw you in to the final page . . . I have read countless stories of Amish men or women doubting their faith. I have never read a storyline quite like this one though. It was narrated with such heart. I was full invested in Jesse’s struggle. No doubt, what Jesse felt is often what modern-day Amish men and women must feel when they are at a crossroads in their faith. The story was brilliantly told and the struggle felt very real.”
— DESTINATION AMISH
“Something new and delightful in the Amish fiction genre, this story is set in the barren, dusty landscape of Bee County, TX…. Irvin writes with great insight into the range and depth of human emotion. Her characters are believable and well developed, and her storytelling skills are superb. Recommend to readers who are looking for something a little different in Amish fiction.”
— CBA RETAILERS + RESOURCES
“The Beekeeper’s Son is so well crafted. Each character is richly layered. I found myself deeply invested in the lives of both the King and Lantz families. I struggled as they struggled, laughed as they laughed—and even cried as they cried . . . This is one of the best novels I have read in the last six months. It’s a refreshing read and worth every penny. The Beekeeper’s Son is a keeper for your bookshelf!”
— DESTINATION AMISH
“Kelly Irvin’s The Beekeeper’s Son is a beautiful story of faith, hope, and second chances. Her characters are so real that they feel like old friends. Once you open the book, you won’t put it down until you’ve reached the last page.”
— AMY CLIPSTON, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF A GIFT OF GRACE
“The Beekeeper’s Son is a perfect depiction of how God makes all things beautiful in His way. Rich with vivid descriptions and characters you can immediately relate to, Kelly Irvin’s book is a must-read for Amish fans.”
— RUTH REID, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF A MIRACLE OF HOPE
“Kelly Irvin writes a moving tale that is sure to delight all fans of Amish fiction. Highly recommended.”
— KATHLEEN FULLER, AUTHOR OF THE HEARTS OF MIDDLEFIELD AND MIDDLEFIELD FAMILY NOVELS
OTHER BOOKS BY KELLY IRVIN
EVERY AMISH SEASON NOVELS
Upon A Spring Breeze
Beneath the Summer Sun
Through the Autumn Air (available August 2018)
THE AMISH OF BEE COUNTY NOVELS
The Beekeeper’s Son
The Bishop’s Son
The Saddle Maker’s Son
NOVELLAS BY KELLY IRVIN
A Christmas Visitor found in An Amish Winter
Sweeter than Honey found in An Amish Market
Snow Angels found in An Amish Christmas Love
One Sweet Kiss found in An Amish Summer
The Midwife’s Dream found in An Amish
Heirloom (Available January 2018)
ZONDERVAN
Beneath the Summer Sun
Copyright © 2018 by Kelly Irvin
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com.
Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Epub Edition October 2017 ISBN 9780310348108
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Irvin, Kelly author.
Title: Beneath the summer sun / Kelly Irvin.
Description: Grand Rapids, Michigan : Zondervan, [2018] | Series: An every Amish season novel ; 2
Identifiers: LCCN 2017039622 | ISBN 9780310348085 (paperback)
Subjects: LCSH: Amish-- Fiction. | Large type books. | GSAFD: Christian fiction. | Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3609.R82 B46 2018 | DDC 813/.6-- dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017039622
Printed in the United States of America
17 18 19 20 21 / LSC / 5 4 3 2 1
To Debby, Doug, Pam, and Larry Junior
(may he rest in peace). Love always.
See, I have refined you, though not as silver;
I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.
ISAIAH 48:10
DEUTSCH VOCABULARY*
aenti: aunt
bopli(n): baby
botching: clapping game
bruder: brother
daed: father
danki: thank you
dawdy haus: grandparents’ house
dochder: daughter
eck: married couple’s corner table at a wedding reception
Englischer: English or Non-Amish
fraa: wife
Gmay: church district
Gott: God
groossdaadi: grandpa
groossmammi: grandma
guder mariye: good morning
gut: good
hund: dog
jah: yes
kinner: children
lieb: love
mann: husband
Meidung: avoidance, shunning
Mennischt: Mennonite
mudder: mother
nee: no
onkel: uncle
Ordnung: written and unwritten rules in an Amish district
rumspringa: period of running around
schweschder: sister
suh: son
wunderbarr: wonderful
*THE GERMAN DIALECT SPOKEN BY THE AMISH IS not a written language and varies depending on the location and origin of the settlement. These spellings are approximations. Most Amish children learn English after they start school. They also learn high German, which is used in their Sunday services.
JAMESPORT, MISSOURI, FEATURED FAMILIES
THE TROYERS:
Jennie (widow, husband was Atlee)
Matthew
Celia
>
Micah
Cynthia
Mark
Elizabeth
Francis
James and Olive (parents-in-law)
Darren and Bertha (brother-and sister-in-law)
Raymond (brother-in-law)
THE MILLERS:
Peter and Kate (Jennie’s brother and sister-in-law)
Luke (brother)
Silas (brother)
THE GRABERS:
Leo (bachelor)
Aidan (Leo’s cousin)
Henry (cousin, married with a son: Matthew)
Timothy (cousin) and Josie and their children: Samuel, Robert, Vera, and Nyla
Paul (cousin, bachelor)
THE ROPPS:
Mary Katherine (widow, husband was Moses)
(children still at home)
Barbara
THE KAUFFMANS:
Laura (widow, husband was Eli)
Children all grown
THE WEAVERS:
Solomon (widower)
Elijah
Luke and Jane (their son: William)
Ruth and Seth Byler
Sophie and Obediah Stultz and their children: Esther, Lewis, Martin, and Angela
Hazel and Isaac Plank and their children: Rachel, Sarah, Levi, Gracie, Jonah
Bess (daughter-in-law, her son: Joshua)
OTHER FAMILIES:
Freeman and Dorothy Borntrager (bishop)
Cyrus and Josephina Beachy (deacon)
Iris
Joseph
Rueben
Samuel
Carl
Louella
Abigail
Contents
Acclaim for Kelly Irvin
Other Books by Kelly Irvin
Deutsch Vocabulary
Jamesport, Missouri, Featured Families
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Discussion Questions
Domestic Violence Resource
Acknowledgments
About the Author
ONE
The smack of the baseball against an aluminum bat sounded like summer. At thirty-seven, Jennie Troyer hadn’t been a student in many years, but the end-of-school picnic still caused her spirits to soar as if she were ten and set free for the next few months. She might be old, but she understood how her children felt. That curious lightheartedness for this one afternoon on the last day of April.
Smiling at the thought, Jennie clapped as Cynthia smacked a blooper into what served as right field and scurried to the discarded rug that did double duty as first base. Micah hurled the ball to Celia at second base, and the chatter from the parents seated in lawn chairs on the sidelines reached a crescendo. Jennie’s children comprised almost half the players on the field. Their cheeks were red, their hair sweaty, and their clothes dirty, but they didn’t seem to mind that summer had arrived early in Missouri.
After all they’d been through—no matter how much time had passed—they deserved a few hours of carefree, childish play. Despite the heat Jennie shivered. She studied the rows of corn plants in nearby fields and tried to recapture the happiness she’d felt only seconds earlier. Raising her face to the sun, she begged it to burn away a pain that still barged into her day at odd, unexpected moments.
“Your kinner are on fire today, aren’t they? I’m surprised Francis isn’t out there too.” Mary Katherine Ropp plopped her dumpling-shaped body into a sagging lawn chair next to Jennie’s. Grasshoppers sprang in all directions in her wake. She smelled of charcoal and grilled hot dogs. “He’s Elizabeth’s little shadow these days.”
Afraid her perceptive friend would read her face, Jennie sprang to her feet and did a head count with her index finger. Matthew, her graduate and oldest son at fourteen, stood at third base, his hands on his hips, his usual sullen look on his face. Followed at various places on and off the field by Celia, thirteen; Micah, eleven; Cynthia, ten; Mark, seven; and Elizabeth, six and just finishing her first year of school. No Francis. At four, her youngest had a mind of his own, a penchant for trouble, and sturdy little legs to carry him there.
“Mark was showing him how to swing the bat only a second ago.” With so many mothers in the mix on picnic day, Jennie could count on family and friends to keep an eye on her youngest, but still she surveyed the crowd. Force of habit. Since Atlee’s death four years earlier, she held both father and mother reins in tight fists that she didn’t dare relax. “I better track him down before he decides to eat an entire pan of applesauce cake or feed a worm to one of the boplin.”
“He’s probably playing on the swings. Let’s talk about the store while we have the chance.” Mary Katherine crossed her ankles and sat still for what was most likely the first time that day. “Your help would mean so much to me and the others, but even more, it would be good for you. It’s time.”
Not time. The mere thought of talking to the English tourists and making change while they waited made Jennie’s hands tremble and her mouth go dry. Several families had pooled their meager funds to open a new tourist store in Jamesport. Jennie loved sewing quilts and baby blankets, embroidering dresser scarves and pillowcases, making jams and jellies, and baking cookies for the store. Working there was another angry beehive altogether. “I better check on Francis. You know how much trouble that boy can stir up.”
“We need to talk.” Mary Katherine tempered her firm words with a sweet smile that didn’t match the worry in her blue eyes. “Soon.”
Her friend never worried about anything. Leastways not that it showed. Torn, Jennie paused. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing new.” Mary Katherine clapped for Mark’s single into right field. Jennie automatically joined her and the other parents. “The store was my idea. Folks need the income. They’re not making ends meet just farming. They haven’t for a long time.”
“It was a good idea.”
“We’re putting a lot of our precious savings into the monthly lease payments and the renovations.” Turning the space from a butcher shop into Amish Treasures had been a major undertaking, but one they’d accomplished together. “So far there’s only a trickle of customers.”
“The tourist season is only just beginning.” Jennie let her gaze wander across the crowd along the sideline. No Francis. “Give it time. Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”
Mary Katherine frowned, her freckled nose wrinkled. “I don’t know about Freeman and the other men.”
“They would’ve said no if they didn’t.”
“I’m a widowed woman. They want me to make myself useful, I reckon.”
“You worked at the bed and breakfast. You’re our scribe for the newspaper. You’ve always been helpful. Your middle name is helpful.”
“My middle name is Katherine.”
She said it with such aggravation, Jennie giggled. Mary Katherine shook her head and grinned. “Go find Francis. Make sure he’s not climbing on the roof. We’ll talk later. We also need to finish Bess’s quilt. They’ll be publishing their announcem
ent any day now, if I’m not mistaken. And I’ve never been mistaken.”
Indeed, she rarely was. They needed to finish the blue-and-white Double Irish Chain quilt for Bess Weaver, who would leave her widowhood behind soon—as soon as she and Aidan Graber got around to telling the world they planned to marry. The Gmay elders were pleased with that, even though everyone pretended not to know. How could they miss the looks that passed between those two? The elders likely weren’t so pleased with the remaining trio of widows—Jennie, Mary Katherine, and Laura Kauffman—who each had more than their share of years alone.
Some things couldn’t be helped. Or were meant to be. Or some other such silly platitude. Jennie kept busy and chose not to think about the empty corners of her life. If she didn’t have a husband, she certainly couldn’t be trotting off to work in the store. Her children already lacked a father. They needed their mother at home where she ought to be.
Jennie tried to keep her tone conciliatory. “Come by the house later. Pick up Laura on the way and we’ll get in a few hours of quilting tonight.”
“Good plan. We’ll talk while we sew. Bring me a glass of lemonade when you return, if you don’t mind.” Mary Katherine scratched with plump fingers at barbecue bean sauce that had dried on her apron. Catsup and mustard stains made for an abstract painting with the apron as an impromptu canvas. Her tone said the quilt would not be the only topic of conversation. “All that burning hot dogs on the charcoal grill has given me a heatstroke. I’ll cheer on the team.”
At fifty-five plus, Mary Katherine had the constitution of a much younger woman with vim and vigor that Jennie tried her hardest not to envy. Most days she felt much older than her age. Envy was a big, fat, slimy sin. “Of course. Lemonade and humongous slices of applesauce cake all around.”
Mary Katherine acknowledged the veiled compliment—she’d baked the cake—with a small grin. She leaned back in the chair with a contented sigh. No doubt, in seconds the older woman would be snoozing.
Swatting at a cloud of gnats, Jennie threaded her way through the clusters of folks visiting and eating homemade vanilla ice cream that called her name even though she was stuffed with hot dog, chips, baked beans, and coleslaw. No Francis at the food tables. No curly brown-haired, dimple-cheeked little boy who looked like an angel and raced around like a dervish that reminded her all too much of Atlee.
