The Farmer Next Door

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He Would Never Marry AgainAdrian Lapp had taken that vow after losing his wife and son. But the newest resident of the Amish community of Hope Springs captivates him from their first meeting. Widow Faith Martin is strong, courageous and determined to make her farmstead profitable. Her fight to raise her six-year-old orphaned nephew in the Amish community brings her closer to the members of Hope Springs…and Adrian. Now if only Adrian can open his heart to the possibility of love again….About the AuthorPatricia Davids was born and raised in central Kansas. Her career as a nurse spanned 40 years, most of that in the NICU, a place of miracles. Now, she's a full time writer. She enjoys traveling, but she loves spending time with her daughter, her grandchildren and one overgrown yellow Lab named Sadie, who thinks fetch is a game to be played day and night. When not on the road or throwing a ball, Pat is happily dreaming up new stories. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.If the Amish farmer standing outside her screen door would smile, he'd be a nice-looking fellow—but he certainly wasn't smiling at the moment. His fierce scowl was a sharp reminder of all her life had been before—tense, fearful, pain-filled.Faith Martin thrust aside her somber memories. She would not allow the past to follow her here. She had nothing to fear in this new community.Still, the man at her door made an imposing figure blocking out much of the late afternoon sunlight streaming in behind him. His flat-topped straw hat sat squarely above his furrowed brow. That frown put a deep crease between his intelligent hazel eyes.Above his reddish-brown beard, his full lips barely moved when he spoke. "Goot day, Frau. I am Adrian Lapp. I own the farm to the south."His beard told her he was married. Amish men were cleanshaven until after they took a wife. He had his pale blue shirtsleeves rolled up exposing brawny, darkly tanned forearms folded tightly across his gray vest. A familiar, nauseous odor emanated from his clothes.Faith's heart sank. It was clear he'd had a run-in with one of her herd. What had he been doing with her animals?She managed a polite nod. Common courtesy dictated she welcome him to her home. "I'm pleased to meet you, neighbor. I am Faith Martin. Do come in."He made no move to enter. "Is your husband about?"It seemed the farmer next door wasn't exactly the friendly sort. That was too bad. She had prayed it would be different here. "My husband passed away two years ago. It's just me. How may I help you?"Her widowed status seemed to surprise him. "You're living here alone?""Ja." She brushed at the dust and cobwebs on her apron and tried to look like a woman who managed well by herself instead of one who'd bitten off far more than she could chew.His scowl deepened. "Your creatures are loose in my fields. They are eating my beans."Faith cringed inwardly. This was not the first impression she wanted to make in her new community. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how they could have gotten out.""I tried to catch one of them by its halter, but it spat on me and ran off with the others into the cornfield."She saw the green, speckled stain across the front shoulder of his shirt and vest. Alpaca spit, a combination of grass and digestive juices, was unpleasant but not harmful. What a shame this had to be her new neighbor's first introduction to her alpacas. They were normally docile, friendly animals.Faith never tired of seeing their bright, inquisitive faces waiting for her each morning. Their sweet, gentle natures had helped her heal in both body and spirit over the past two years."The one wearing a halter is Myrtle. She's the expectant mother in the herd. You must have frightened her. They are leery of strangers.""So I noticed," he answered drily."Spitting is their least endearing habit, but it will brush off when it dries." Faith's encouraging tone didn't lighten his scowl. Perhaps now wasn't the time to mention the smell would linger for a few days."What did you call them?""Alpacas. They're like llamas but they have very soft fleece, softer than any sheep. Originally, they come from South America. How many did you say were in your field?""I counted ten.""Oh, no!" Fear blotted out any concern for her neighbor's shirt. If all of her animals were loose in unfamiliar country, it would be difficult, even impossible, to round them up before dark.Her defenseless alpacas couldn't spend the night out in the open. Stray dogs or coyotes could easily bring down one of her half-grown crias, or they might wander onto the highway and be hit by a passing car. She couldn't afford the loss of even one animal. She had everything invested in this venture and much more than money riding on her success.Please, Lord, let me recover them all safe and sound.As much as she hated to be seen using her crutch, Faith grabbed it from behind the door. It was wrong to be vain about her handicap, but she couldn't help it. It was a personal battle she had yet to win.The pickup truck that had crashed into their buggy two years ago had killed her husband and left her with a badly mangled leg. Doctors told her it would be a miracle if she ever walked again, but God had shown her mercy. After a long, difficult recovery she was able to get around with only her leg brace most of the time. But chasing down a herd of frisky alpacas required exertion and speed. Things she couldn't manage without added support.She pushed open the screen door, forcing Adrian Lapp to take a step back. She didn't miss the way his eyes widened at the sight of her infirmity.Let him stare. It wasn't something she could keep secret. She knew her crippled leg made her ugly and awkward, a person to be pitied, but she wouldn't let it be her weakness. Right now, the safety of her animals was the important thing, not her new neighbor's opinion of her. "Where did you see them last?""Disappearing into the cornfield beyond the orchard at the back of your property.""I will need to get their halters and lead ropes from the barn." She left him standing on the porch as she made her way down the steps.Adrian quickly caught up with her. "I'm sorry, I didn't know… I will take care of the animals for you. There is no need for you to go traipsing after them."His offer was grudgingly given, but she sensed he meant well."I'm perfectly capable of catching them." She didn't want pity, and she wasn't about to leave her valuable livestock in the hands of a man who didn't even know what kind of animal they were.Hobbling ahead of him across the weedy yard, she spoke over her shoulder. "Once I catch them, can you help me lead them home?""Of course."Faith headed toward the small, dilapidated barn nestled between overgrown cedars some fifty yards from the house. In the harsh August sunlight it was easy to see the peeling paint, missing shingles and broken windowpanes on the building. The Amish were known for their neat and well-tended farmsteads. She had a lot of work ahead of her to get this place in shape.She didn't know why her husband had never mentioned owning this property in Ohio or why he had chosen to leave it sitting vacant all these years, but finding out a month ago that she owned it couldn't have come at a better time.She pulled open the barn door. Copper, her mare, whinnied a greeting. Faith spoke a few soft words to her as she gathered together the halters and lead ropes that were hanging on pegs inside the doorway.Adrian took them from her without a word and slipped them over his shoulder. She was grateful for his help but wished he wasn't so dour about it. Why couldn't her alpacas have chosen to eat the beans of a cheerful neighbor? Maybe she didn't have any.She led the way around the side of the barn to the pens at the rear. The gate panel that should have been wired closed had been pushed over, offering the curious alpacas an easy way out. Why hadn't she paid more attention when her hired help set up the portable pen and unloaded the animals? Now look what her carelessness had wrought.Adrian removed the thin wire that had proven to be an ineffective deterrent. "Do you have a heavier gauge wire than this or some strong rope?""I'm sure there's something in the barn that will work.""Then I should find it." He turned back toward the barn door.Faith called after him. "Shouldn't we find my animals first and then worry about how to keep them in? It's getting late."He didn't even glance in her direction. "It won't do any good to bring them back if they can just get out again."She pressed her lips closed on a retort. She had learned the hard way not to argue with a man. Her husband had made sure she understood her opinions were not valued.Leaving her new neighbor to rummage in the barn, Faith headed toward the rows of trees that stretched for a quarter of a mile to the back edge of her property, knowing he could easily overtake her. It was slow going through the thick grass, but at least she knew her alpacas would be well-fed through the summer and fall once she had her fences in place.It didn't take long for Adrian to catch up with her. As she expected, his long legs made short work of the distance she had struggled to cover. A twinge of resentment rippled through her before she firmly reminded herself it didn't matter if someone could walk faster than she could. All that mattered was that she walk upon the path the Lord had chosen for her without complaint.Adrian wasn't sure what to make of the woman charging ahead of him through the tangled grass of the old orchard. Her handicap clearly didn't slow her down much. He'd been curious about his new neighbors as soon as he'd spotted the moving van and large horse trailer inching up the rutted lane yesterday.The farmstead had been deserted since he'd been a lad. It hurt his soul to see the good farm ground lying fallow and the peach orchard's fruit going to waste year after year. He could do so much with it if only he had the chance.Even though he'd seen he had new neighbors, he hadn't gone to introduce himself. He didn't like meeting people or answering questions about his life. He liked being alone. He preferred to stay on his farm and work until he was bone-tired and weary enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow at night.Too tired even for dreams…or for nightmares.He wouldn't be here today if Faith Martin had kept her animals penned up properly. This was costing him an afternoon of work that couldn't wait.He glanced sideways at her. She was a tiny slip of a woman. She didn't look as if she could wrest ...