Amish Promises Read online

  © 2015 by Leslie Gould

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2015

  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—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-6931-7

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by John Hamilton Design

  Author represented by MacGregor Literary, Inc.

  For my friend Marietta Couch,

  and for my friend Marilyn Weisenburg

  And in loving memory of

  David J. Weisenburg,

  May 2, 1978–September 13, 2004

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Leslie Gould

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  1

  October 2004

  Lancaster County, Pennsylvania

  Aenti! The baby needs you!” Daniel’s high-pitched voice carried to the back bedroom of their neighbor’s farmhouse as Eve Lehman tucked the corner of the quilt under the mattress.

  “Give her to Lila,” Eve called out to her eleven-year-old nephew as she stepped around the side of the bed. “I’ll be right there.”

  Trying to ignore Trudy’s cries, she stood back and admired the shadow quilt. Abra had made it years ago and gave it to Eve for her marriage bed someday. That would never happen now. She was the old Maidel. The spinster Aenti.

  The pine trees out the window cast shadows across the walls of the room as the late afternoon Licht waned. She hated to see it go. She stepped to the doorway, pulled the bedroom door shut, and started down the hallway.

  The home had been vacant since old Mr. Williams died four months before. Earlier in the week his son had left a message on the phone in the barn, asking if Eve would tidy up the place. He said his daughter and son-in-law, who’d been injured in the war, were moving into the house. They needed a quiet place to “regroup.”

  As Eve turned the corner into the kitchen, her red-faced niece began to scream even louder. Trudy was fair, like Daniel and Lila. “There, there,” Eve said as she reached for the baby. The little one lunged toward her—she could hardly bear to have Eve out of her sight. It was no wonder, considering everything the baby had been through in her short eight months of life.

  “It’s getting dark.” Daniel stepped toward the back door.

  “Turn on the light,” Eve responded as she cradled Trudy in her arms. The baby gulped for air and let out another cry, but this one was halfhearted.

  Lila stepped into the kitchen from the living room, carrying a handful of rags. She’d grown taller than her twin in the last year, much to Daniel’s horror. He’d seemed skeptical when Eve assured him he’d soon catch up to and then pass his sister.

  “Did you two finish the dusting?” Eve asked.

  “Jah.” Daniel’s face was solemn as he inched toward the back door. “I need to go help Dat and Simon with the chores.”

  “In a minute,” she said. “Carry the buckets back to the house first. Go grab the ones in the living room.”

  Daniel obeyed without hesitating. Lila started rinsing the rags in the sink. Trudy hiccupped and grasped Eve around the neck, her chubby hands holding on for dear life, her soft breath against Eve’s skin.

  “Does the Englisch family have any kids?” Lila asked.

  Eve nodded. “They have a twelve-year-old son.” She hadn’t told her brother, Tim, that part of the news. He’d be leery of an Englisch boy a year older than the twins, not to mention a military family, living so close to his farm.

  Trudy began to fuss again, so Eve turned on the ceiling fan, a trick she’d found effective earlier in the afternoon. The baby put her head back, mesmerized again by the movement of the blades. When Eve had been on her Rumschpringe, sure she’d leave the Amish for good, she’d been just as enthralled with the Englisch world as Trudy was now. It was more than just the electricity, cars, and independence for Eve. It was the hope of a marriage different than what her parents had. A good marriage, with her Englisch boyfriend. A home with children—all loved and cherished. And perhaps even a career for herself, in teaching.

  But none of that was meant to be. She’d ended up joining the church after all, twelve years ago. And she was still paying for having led Abra astray.

  Footsteps fell on the back porch. Eve had planned to be long gone before the new family arrived. But she hadn’t heard a car.

  “Eve?” It was her brother’s voice.

  “Jah!” Balancing the weight of the baby on her hip, she hurried toward the door and opened it quickly. He stood with his hat in his hands on the top step.

  “You startled me,” she said.

  “We’ve finished the plowing,” Tim said. “We need Daniel’s help with the chores.”

  Simon waited at the bottom of the steps beside his father, his straw hat in his hand and an impish grin on his face. He was two years younger than the twins and full of mischief.

  “We’re almost done here.” Eve bounced the baby. “Daniel will be back by the time you get the horses unhitched.”

  Tim preferred to have Simon work with him instead of Daniel. The younger boy put his hat back on his head and then grinned at Eve, his chestnut curls poking out from under the brim. He was the spitting image of his father, but his personality was the exact opposite. Tim was serious, while Simon was full of fun, like his mother had been.

  Tim had favored Simon over Daniel since the boy was born, even though Abra had discouraged it. Once she passed away, Tim stopped trying to hide it.

  “Where’s Rose?” Eve asked as she looked around. Her middle niece had gone out to the field with Simon and Tim.

  “She was tired,” Tim said. “I sent her back to the house.” She’d been the baby of the family for six years until Trudy came along—and it showed in the girl’s kintish ways.

  Lila had finished rinsing the rags and joined them at the door, followed by Daniel.

  “I’ll just go with Dat now,” the boy said.

  Eve shook her head. “Grab the broom and mops.”

  Ti
m ignored Daniel and spoke to Eve. “The rain’s coming, and your wash is still on the line.” He tugged on his beard. “I trust you’ve already started our supper.”

  “Jah,” Eve answered. “I fixed a roast.” She knew Tim wasn’t happy with her housekeeping and cooking, but she did the best she could. “We’ll meet you back at the house.”

  The baby began to cry again. Tim pushed his hat back on his head and then turned and strode down the steps. Simon fell in step behind his father, doing a little jig as they walked away from the house.

  Eve wiggled into her cape with Trudy on her hip. Then she took the baby’s blanket from the counter and covered her. “We’ll go out the front.” She pushed the back door tight and locked it. Lila picked up the bucket with the rags, and Daniel carried the other two, along with the broom and mop. The twins followed Eve through the kitchen and across the worn hardwood of the dining room and living room.

  Eve ushered the children onto the porch and closed and locked the front door, saying a silent prayer that the new family would find peace and comfort in their new home. Things hadn’t always been easy with Old Man Williams, but they’d appreciated him all the same. Hopefully things would go more smoothly with his granddaughter. Perhaps, if Tim didn’t mind, she’d run over a pan of sticky buns sometime tomorrow.

  She knew how hard a move could be. It had been nearly a year since she came to her brother’s home on Juneberry Lane, right after Abra had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Her sister-in-law had been four months pregnant with Trudy at the time.

  It wasn’t an easy transition for Eve, but there were more important things to worry about. A sick Mamm. A baby on the way. And four terrified children.

  Now she had five grieving children to care for, to love the way she’d always longed to love her own.

  Daniel bumped the bucket against the railing on the way down the steps, causing the wood to shift. Eve stopped and pushed against the rail. It wasn’t secure, but it didn’t give way either. She would mention it to the new family the next morning.

  They hurried to the lane, crunching through the layers of red and orange maple leaves. A light rain began to fall as they passed the tallest cedar tree. Eve breathed in the spicy scent and pulled the baby closer to her chest.

  “Is Simon going to work with Dat tomorrow?” Daniel’s voice held a hint of jealousy.

  “Probably,” Eve answered. In the dark shadows of the lane, it seemed dusk was already falling. They walked in silence until they reached the big oak tree, halfway home.

  Lila asked to climb it.

  “Ach,” Eve said. “You’re too old for that sort of thing.”

  But when Daniel, who’d been in such a hurry, put down his buckets and stared up at the tree, Eve changed her mind. They both deserved some fun.

  “Oh, bother,” she said. “Be quick.” She stepped under the canopy of the remaining leaves, seeking cover from the rain. “And climb like a young lady,” she said to Lila, smiling after she said it. As if that were possible.

  The baby snuggled against Eve and let out a sigh, her body giving way to sleep. Fearing the little one would be up half the night if she slept now, Eve tickled Trudy under her chin, but the baby didn’t stir.

  Daniel scampered up the tree, propelled by his bare feet. Lila followed him but settled on the bottom branch, tucking her skirt beneath her.

  “Not too far,” Eve called out to Daniel, thinking of the twins when they were newborns. So tiny and life changing for their Mamm—and for her too.

  In the distance she heard the team of horses making their way toward the barn.

  “I can see them from here,” Daniel called down. “Simon’s laughing. And Dat’s smiling.”

  “Shh,” Eve responded. Daniel’s jealousy only made it worse. He climbed higher. She called up to him, “We need to get going.”

  Daniel didn’t respond.

  “Come on,” she called.

  In a defiant tone, he responded, “What if I don’t?”

  Lila gasped.

  Eve took a deep breath. It wasn’t like Daniel to be disobedient. She hardly ever had to discipline him with more than a scolding. “Come down now,” she said.

  He shook his head.

  She couldn’t climb up after Daniel, not even if she put Trudy down. She could have a decade ago, when she was still a teenager, but not now. And even if she could, what would she do once she reached him?

  It wouldn’t do any good to send Lila up either.

  She decided to ignore Daniel, hoping he’d soon be over his obstinacy. She needed to get home before the wash got so wet she had to run it through the wringer again.

  2

  Shani Beck peered through the rain-splattered windshield, searching for the road sign. It was an hour until nightfall but the autumn rain had darkened the day.

  She slowed and then, seeing the sign, turned sharply onto Juneberry Lane. The narrow road tunneled through a thick grove of trees. Shani swerved to miss a fallen branch.

  Her husband, Joel, stirred in the passenger seat. He’d slept since Philadelphia. So had Zane. Their son was twelve—no longer a boy, yet far from being a man. He was definitely starting to act like a teenager, but it was hard to determine if his new moodiness was because of his age or Joel’s injuries. Probably a dose of each.

  She maneuvered around a pothole. The moving van was a few minutes behind them. Thankfully the movers would unload everything, and then Charlie, Joel’s Army buddy, would arrive the next morning to help with arranging the furniture and moving boxes. Zane would help too. She wouldn’t be much help, except to unpack boxes and clean, and Joel wouldn’t be any help at all.

  Then she’d only have two days to get everything and everyone settled before she started her job at Lancaster General.

  She’d scanned the listings for weeks for an opening in pediatrics there, and after she found one and they offered her a job after a phone interview, she was convinced they were supposed to move to Lancaster County.

  Joel sat up straight, wrinkling his nose as he did. “You didn’t tell me there was a dairy nearby.” Shani had noticed the stench but hadn’t realized it was a dairy. Joel grew up in Wisconsin—he’d know.

  “There wasn’t one here before.” It had been over five years since she and Zane had visited while Joel was on a training exercise. Her grandfather had been much crankier than what she remembered as a child, or perhaps her grandmother had tempered him more than she’d realized. She’d intended to come once she and Zane moved to Philly last spring, but then Joel had been injured in Iraq and she’d gone to Germany instead.

  Zane kicked against the back of her seat. “Who are they?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Shani turned the windshield wipers up higher, her gaze focused on the narrow road.

  He tapped on the window. “Those people.”

  Off to the side stood a woman wearing a bonnet and a cape, with a baby in her arms. A girl with blond hair stood near her. Another child, a boy who was also a towhead, hung upside down from a branch halfway up the tree. The woman and girl’s dresses and the boy’s shirt were all sky blue, as if they’d all been cut from the same bolt of cloth.

  “Why are they dressed that way?” Zane asked.

  Joel groaned. “You didn’t tell me we have Amish neighbors.”

  “I don’t think we do.” Shani realized she’d nearly stopped the van. The woman turned toward her, freed one hand from the baby, and waved. The boy tumbled from the limb and then twisted, making Shani gasp. He landed on his bare feet next to a plastic bucket.

  “How come the kid doesn’t have shoes?” Zane asked.

  “I don’t know.” It was much too cold for such nonsense. The boy and girl both looked close to Zane’s age.

  “What’s with his hair?” Zane asked.

  “It’s called a bowl cut,” Joel answered. “Want one?”

  Shani shot her husband a warning look.

  Zane didn’t answer his father, but asked, “Can I say hi?” Be
ing an only child seemed to make him extra outgoing—he craved the companionship of other children. The fact that Shani was having a baby—a boy—in less than four months wouldn’t change that, though. She was afraid twelve years between Zane and a little brother would make it difficult for them to have much of a relationship.

  “No, you can’t go introduce yourself.” Joel stared at the Amish. “They keep to themselves—at least the ones back home did.”

  Shani inched the van forward again. The girl turned toward them, a slight smile on her face. Then Shani accelerated around the bend and toward her grandparents’ two-century-old house at the end of the lane. The home was made of brick, except for the white clapboard kitchen addition.

  “I don’t know about this.” Joel slumped in his seat. “How can another move be good for us?”

  Shani kept her eyes on the lane. “Let’s give it a year, like we decided.”

  “Like you decided.”

  She didn’t respond. They’d been over it a hundred times. After Joel recovered enough to return to the US, they’d gone to Texas for his rehab and then back to the Philadelphia apartment she and Zane had moved into while he was deployed.

  He grew more and more on edge with each passing day. At first Shani thought he was simply transitioning, but they lived just off a busy street, and she soon suspected the constant noise of traffic—especially the blare of horns—made him hyper alert. She didn’t realize how out of sorts he’d become until she came home one night from work to find him at the window, sitting in his wheelchair with his .45 in his hand.

  Joel’s left tibia had been shattered in the attack, among other injuries, but the docs said more healing would come with time. He’d stopped taking his sleep aids, making up for it with his pain meds, and any little noise made him jump. Even a car door slamming.

  Her grandparents’ farm had been a place of healing for Shani the summer she turned ten, after her mother left. As her parents wrangled out the divorce, her father sent her to be cared for by his own parents. Shani found out that the country—her grandparents’ farm, in particular—could be a refuge. She returned home ready to face a new life, one without her mother.

  She was sure the farm would be a place of healing for Joel too.