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The Amish Widow's New Love
Liz Tolsma
He’s her first love…Will he be her last?Naomi Miller can’t believe Elam Yoder’s back in their community after all the pain he caused! Still, the young Amish widow must reunite with her disgraced first love to raise money for her infant son’s surgery. Elam’s remorse seems sincere, as does his commitment to helping Naomi and her baby. Elma’s looking for forgiveness—and a new life with Naomi and her bobbeli by his side.


He’s her first love...
Will he be her last?
Naomi Miller can’t believe Elam Yoder’s back in their community after all the pain he caused! Still, the young Amish widow must reunite with her disgraced first love to raise money for her infant son’s surgery. Elam’s remorse seems sincere, as does his commitment to helping Naomi and her baby. Elam’s looking for forgiveness—and a new life with Naomi and her bobbeli by his side.
Bestselling author LIZ TOLSMA loves to write so much it’s often hard to tear her away from her computer. When she closes her laptop’s lid, she might walk her hyperactive Jack Russell terrier, weed her large perennial garden or binge on HGTV shows. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and together they adopted three children. She’s proud to be the mom of a US marine.
Also By Liz Tolsma (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
The Amish Widow’s New Love
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Amish Widow’s New Love
Liz Tolsma


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08422-2
THE AMISH WIDOW’S NEW LOVE
© 2018 Christine Cain
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“Why did you do that, Elam?” Naomi’s voice was a low growl.
“Do what?”
“Volunteer us to organize the auction.” Color rose in her cheeks. “I have a sick bobbeli to care for. When am I supposed to work on this? And with you, of all people.”
Her anger pierced him. When had their love turned to such bitterness?
“I thought you’d want to be part of it.”
“I have no desire to do anything with you.”
“Simon and Sylvia are counting on us.” Ja, it would be difficult to see her on a regular basis, but maybe they would discover a path beyond the hurt.
“I suggest you volunteer someone else. It won’t be me.” She turned to leave.
He caught her by the elbow. “Won’t you reconsider?”
“Leave me alone, Elam. Because of what you did to my brother, you’re the last person in the world I would ever organize an auction with.” She yanked free of his grasp.
This time, he let her go.
That one mistake, that one accident. Could she ever pardon the man she had once loved?
Dear Reader (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235),
Thank you for joining me for Naomi and Elam’s journey. About seven or eight years ago, I discovered that Wisconsin has several large and thriving Amish communities. In fact, it boasts the fourth-largest Amish population in the country. Who knew? I’ve enjoyed getting to know more about the people and what their lives are like.
One day, as I was in line at the bakery (because who can resist a still-warm doughnut or a pretzel as big as your head), I spied a young Amish girl by the barn. She gave me a shy smile, and I discovered that she had Down syndrome. As the mother of a special needs child myself, I wondered how the Amish deal with those with disabilities. And so the idea for this book sprouted.
While this is a story of loss and heartache, it’s also a story of forgiveness and triumph. The Lord has forgiven us of so much, and because of this, we are free to forgive others and forget about the past. My prayer is that you will be blessed by reading this book.
All the best,
Liz
I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.
—Isaiah 43:25
To my sisters, Carolyn and Elaine. Thank you for all the love, support and fun throughout the years. I’m privileged to have gotten to be your big sister. Love you guys!
Acknowledgments (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
Special thanks to Richard Dawley of Amish Insight and Judy Cook from The Woodshed Amish Tours in Augusta, Wisconsin, for your help and knowledge about the Amish in Wisconsin. I so appreciate everything you taught me!
Contents
Cover (#u8786d875-9d61-5baa-91df-256abdc58ea6)
Back Cover Text (#ub37d538d-bac8-5fdf-af38-6ea81bac7e88)
About the Author (#u9be5042b-ad45-59d6-a4a8-0e8444bde3d1)
Booklist (#ud1606221-319b-5eac-a29e-7e8cc5f3ae0d)
Title Page (#u19ad0eea-e3c9-58ed-818d-2b28afb16d1f)
Copyright (#u755607c7-eef8-5548-8f14-4c312b9a7fce)
Introduction (#u78171292-27a6-598f-93e6-3c7588d45720)
Dear Reader (#u4ad80dea-3711-5ddd-a372-95ada1bc9d45)
Bible Verse (#u508c4df2-1438-53d9-880f-c47b2dab0e77)
Dedication (#uccf0a48c-8eac-5932-9481-bda56769a77f)
Acknowledgments (#u67f1c5bf-f555-5f30-a81d-4137536d3bb6)
Chapter One (#ue952c4e7-b9de-5ac2-984a-0a4550251e7e)
Chapter Two (#uef050e8d-3b85-5ce2-90ee-3b754aedec9f)
Chapter Three (#u066109bb-8856-56a9-a7e9-0d091d146d77)
Chapter Four (#uee8e3153-ae31-5aae-a39d-0cdff6ec9293)
Chapter Five (#u2f3ef553-64c5-5c71-9b3a-b25d8de3b678)
Chapter Six (#u48f09b6d-010d-5c47-9aef-bc58b6fdfb9b)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
Naomi Miller crossed the Masts’ side yard between the house and the barn, her brother Aaron beside her, bumping over the ground in his motorized wheelchair, the smell of new-cut grass assailing her. The shouts of the young people playing volleyball engulfed her as they cheered for each spike and every point gained. Near the metal shed, a group of teenage girls huddled together, white prayer kapp-covered heads bent together. Bunches of laughing boys hugged the barn’s back wall.
Her stomach knotted. Years had passed since she’d been to a singing. She didn’t belong here. This was all for her brother. That’s the one reason she came. He should be a part of the gathering.
Aaron tightened his shoulders and twisted in his chair, his broad-brimmed straw hat askew. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Nonsense. We made a deal. If I came, you would, too.”
“But they’ll look at me funny.” He pounded on his unfeeling, useless legs.
“People here are used to the chair. And at least you’re single and have no children. How does it look for me, a widow with an infant son, to be at a singing?” Wait, did she hear Joseph crying? Nein. She shook her head. Her son remained at home with Mamm, safe and sound asleep.
“At least you—”
“Enough of that. We’ll both have a wunderbaar time.” She swallowed hard. Maybe it wouldn’t turn out to be a lie. But her gut clenched when a picture of Joseph flashed through her mind. She wiped her sweaty palms down her dark purple dress. What if Mamm couldn’t get him to eat enough? What if he had trouble breathing again? Maybe Aaron was right. Maybe this was a bad idea.
He lifted his hat from his head and mussed his blond curls. “No girl is going to want a man in a wheelchair. That’s why I haven’t been to a singing since the accident. I wish you would never have suggested this to Mamm and Daed.”
She did, too. But what was done was done. “Which young lady do you have your eye on?” If she concentrated on Aaron, she might get through this night.
He turned to her. “Can we please go home?”
“Out of the question. Mamm and Daed would be disappointed if we didn’t stay for at least a little while. So if you don’t tell me who you’re going to sit next to, I’ll pick out the prettiest girl and bring her to you.”
All the color drained from his face until it matched the color of Mamm’s bleached sheets. “You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t make me show you I’m serious.” She couldn’t quite force a smile to her lips.
“Hold on. You don’t want to be here either.”
He’d always been too perceptive. “What makes you think that?”
“When you used to come to singings, your face would light up. You loved these gatherings. I don’t see that in your eyes now.”
“It’s not the same.” Not since... Nein, she couldn’t think about all the terrible losses. But Aaron had given her an out. “Fine, we can leave. I’ll get the buggy and be back in a moment.”
“Nein, I’ll get it. I don’t like the way you drive. Much too slow for me.” Daed had modified Aaron’s buggy with a ramp so he could roll in and out. He liked to spur his horse to trot as fast as possible. “You can stay. I think Solomon Mast wants to drive you home.”
“He may want to, but he’s not going to. I’m not interested in him. Or in anyone for that matter. It’s only been a year since Daniel died.” When she spun around to go to the buggy, she hit something. Someone. Hard.
The masculine scent of wood and horses enveloped her. The man grabbed her upper arm and prevented her from falling. The warmth of his hand seeped through her dress’s cotton sleeve. “Be careful.” His deep voice resonated in her ears.
She stared into eyes the same green as the spring grass beneath her feet. For a moment, she forgot to breathe, the wind knocked out of her. Then she drew in a gulp of air and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Are you alright?”
She nodded, and lost her breath again. She knew those eyes. Much too well. Naomi’s heart throbbed in her chest as she took in the man’s straight reddish hair and his ruddy cheeks. “Elam Yoder. What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you, too.” His words were strained. He wore Amish clothes. Dark pants, a light blue shirt and a straw hat.
“You’ve come back?” She worked to keep her voice as controlled and distant as possible, even as she trembled from head to toe. How dare he show his face in this district again.
“I have.”
“Why?”
“Because of Daed’s stroke. He needs my help around the farm until Isaac can sell his ranch in Montana and get home. So I’m here.”
Aaron piped up behind her. “Hello, Elam.”
“Aaron. It’s good to see you. How are you?”
“Just on my way home. This isn’t for me.” He nodded in the barn’s direction where a clutch of young women giggled at what the young men said.
Elam shuffled his feet. Seeing Aaron must make him uncomfortable. All the better. He should be uneasy. Should be ashamed of himself.
“I’ll go to the barn with you, if you’d like.” Elam took a step in Aaron’s direction.
Naomi jumped in between them. “That won’t be necessary. This wasn’t a gut idea for either one of us. We’ll be going now.”
In the distance, footsteps crunched on the gravel driveway. Not some latecomer strolling up the road. Quick, light steps. Running. In the fading daylight, she made out the shape and size of the figure. Her younger brother, Samuel.
He slid to a halt in front of them, panting, sweat dotting his brow. “Mamm sent me for you. Joseph woke up and is fussing, and she thinks he’s running a fever. His breathing is raspy.”
A cry rose from her chest, but she trapped it in her throat. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know. Mamm just wanted me to get you. She didn’t say anything else, but I think you should hurry.”
Her entire body turned cold. “Let’s go.” For her son’s sake, they had to be fast. “Aaron, get the buggy. Joseph’s labored breathing isn’t gut. The doctor told me to bring him right in with any kind of respiratory problem.”
Before she could move, Elam grabbed her. Oh, the temptation to sink into his arms for comfort. Instead, she squirmed in his grip. “My bobbeli is sick. I have to get home to him.”
Elam held on to her. “I still have my truck. I fixed it, and my license hasn’t expired. Let me take you home.”
If possible, her heart rate elevated. “You want me to put my life in your hands?”
“It will be faster.”
She’d heard the crash that night, right in front of their house. She couldn’t wipe the sound of crunching metal out of her mind. Aaron’s screams. “I can’t. I can’t trust you. I will never trust you again.”
* * *
Naomi’s voice was as icy as the pond in January. Elam shivered. Both at her words and the sight of Aaron in his wheelchair. The young man worked the controls on the chair, spinning around until the wheel caught on a rock. He was stuck.
Stuck in the wheelchair Elam had condemned him to. Every muscle in his body clenched. After three years, the vivid images hadn’t faded. Neither had the tinkling of shattered glass. Nor the echoes of Aaron’s cries of agony.
He had stripped this man of his vitality and relegated him to a life of struggles and pain.
“Come, Naomi, Joseph needs you.” Her brother Samuel tugged at her arm.
Elam shook his head. He’d heard Naomi had married Daniel Miller. What, then, was she doing at a singing meant for singles?
Naomi snapped to attention. She massaged the end of the string of her prayer kapp.
“We could get to the clinic faster in the truck. I know I was rebellious when I was young, buying a truck and a cell phone when I was thinking about leaving the Amish. Only you held me here. That and the fact they couldn’t kick me out because I hadn’t been baptized. But I don’t have my cell phone anymore, so I won’t be distracted. You can trust me. The truck is in our barn across the street. In a few minutes, we can be on our way.”
They didn’t have Rumspringa here like back East, but Elam had come close to it. “Sam, go home with Aaron. I’ll go with you, Elam, on one condition. You have to drive slowly. But get me to Joseph as fast as possible.”
Elam gave a two-beat laugh. “I’ll try and do the impossible.” Not giving her time to change her mind, he sprinted down the gravel driveway and across the street to his daed’s farm. He flung open the barn door, his footsteps reverberating in the silence as he went to his truck.
In the Englisch world, he had needed it to get around. He slipped inside and retrieved the key from under the floor mat. As he slid the key into the ignition and turned it, he drew in a deep breath, his heart pounding. He had thought his truck-driving days were behind him. The engine roared to life.
He shifted into Drive, stepped on the gas and pulled from the barn. Naomi hadn’t changed. Big, almost purple-blue eyes in a heart-shaped face. A delicate nose. How she tugged on her kapp string when she was nervous.
His breath stuck in his throat. She had turned her back on him after the accident. They had been planning their wedding, but she refused to listen to his apologies. Refused to hear him out. And less than a year later, she had married someone else.
And where was Daniel? Shouldn’t he have been with her? Or watching their son?
As his headlights swept the road in front of him, they illuminated Naomi, who stood at the end of the drive. He stopped in front of her, and she climbed into the backseat.
“You can sit up front.” He adjusted his rearview mirror.
She buckled her belt. “This is where I always sit in a car.” Like she would do with any Englisch driver. That’s what she treated him as. An outsider.
“Where do you live?”
“At my parents’ house.” She gripped the edge of the seat.
Had they retired to the dawdi haus already? They weren’t old and still had young children. Wouldn’t Daniel have his own place? Nothing about Naomi made sense. “So, how old is your bobbeli?”
“Three months.”
“Daniel must be worried if he sent for you.”
The roar of silence filled the truck cab.
“Naomi? Did you hear me?”
“My husband died almost a year ago.”
Elam blew out his breath. How awful for her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
They passed a few farms, bright white light spilling from the windows of fancy Englisch homes. Softer, paler light flickered from the plain white Amish houses. He glanced over his shoulder. “That must have been hard.”
Naomi swiped away a stray tear. “It was. He fell from a roof. But Joseph was a wonderful surprise. His coming eased some of the hurt. I’ll have a piece of Daniel with me forever.”
He returned his attention to the road. Daniel always had his eye on her. Elam shouldn’t be surprised she’d married him. Unable to forgive Elam for his one mistake, she had moved on with her life. Had turned her back on what they shared and became another man’s wife. The pain that pierced his chest startled him. That part of his life should have been far behind him.
He shook his head. Such thoughts were useless.
He didn’t have time to dwell on this information as they soon arrived at her parents’ home and her father’s woodworking shop, where he had once worked. Before he could come around to help her out, she unlatched the belt, slid from the truck, and slammed the door shut. He jogged behind her to the house, the bobbeli’s weak, raspy cries reaching them as they crossed the front porch.
A moment after entering through the kitchen and into the living room, Naomi was at her mother’s side. Sarah Bontrager rocked the infant in a well-worn rocking chair, and Naomi’s sister Laura was at their mamm’s side. Joseph coughed, deep and tight, the sound tugging at Elam.
Sarah wiped the bobbeli’s perspiration-dotted brow. “You got here fast. That’s gut. He was fussy, so I picked him out of his cradle. The heat of his body radiated through his clothes. When he hacked, such a terrible cough, I sent Sam for you right away. I can’t get him to eat either.”
Naomi felt her son’s forehead and widened her eyes. “We need to get him to urgent care. Now. With his heart condition...”
Sarah cradled Joseph. “Laura, tell Daed to run and call Frank Jameson and see if he can drive. Naomi and I will get Joseph ready.”
Elam stepped from the shadows. “No need. My truck’s right outside, warmed and ready to go.”
Both women stared at him with open mouths, as if he’d appeared out of thin air.
Sarah stood from the rocker, handed the bobbeli to Naomi and then clenched her hands. “Elam Yoder. You still have that truck?”
That truck. The one that had caused so much damage. They would never let him forget. Not this family. Not this district. He stepped back. “Ja, I do. I brought Naomi from the singing. I can take her.”
“No need.” Naomi shook her head so hard it was surprising it didn’t fly off her shoulders.
And her mind was made up.
She hustled by him into the kitchen, and he followed. From a peg by the back door, she grabbed a diaper bag. “Frank Jameson can be here in less than fifteen minutes. There’s no reason for you to make the trip. The doctor might send us to Madison.”
She was that afraid of him? Would his actions from that night haunt him forever?
The little one coughed. “We’re wasting time debating this. If you go with me, I can have you there fifteen minutes sooner than Frank.”
Naomi’s daed entered the kitchen from the hall. “I’ll go phone for Frank.”
Elam suppressed a sigh. “If the bobbeli is so sick, you shouldn’t waste time.”
“And let my daughter and grandson end up like my son?” Leroy Bontrager crossed his arms, jaw tight.
Naomi’s hand trembled as she brushed her boy’s cheek. “He’s so warm.”
Joseph gasped and coughed.
“Let me take you. Please. I can help. I want to.”
She glanced away from him, then back in his direction. “I don’t know.”
“Naomi.”
She gritted her teeth. “Fine. I’ll get Joseph’s blanket, and we can leave. Mamm, you’ll come with me, right?”
“Of course.” Sarah entered the kitchen, her sweater already in her hands.
Leroy stepped to within inches of Elam. “If anything happens to any of them, I will hold you responsible. You be careful with that truck. They are precious cargo. This is only because the need is so urgent.”
Naomi placed the bobbeli into the car seat on the hall floor. His face. Wide-set eyes, thick lips and a flat nose, all positioned in a round face. His Englisch boss at the construction company had a daughter like that. He called it Down syndrome. What a burden for Naomi to carry, on top of losing her husband.
The object of his thoughts tucked a fuzzy blue blanket around Joseph then swept up the car seat by the handle. “We’re ready. Let’s go. Do you know the way?”
“Ja. Don’t worry. We’ll be there soon.”
“It can’t be soon enough.” A tear trickled down Naomi’s cheek.
Elam held himself back from wiping it away. She wouldn’t allow him to comfort her.
Sarah rubbed her daughter’s back. “We must trust God to do what is right.”
Elam held the door open for the two women. As he turned to shut it, he caught sight of Leroy, who glared at him.
Elam shivered and then stepped into the chilly Wisconsin night.
Chapter Two (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
Naomi stroked her son’s hot, damp cheek with one hand and clung to the edge of the truck’s back seat with the other as they raced toward the clinic. Joseph cried weak, pitiful mews, stopping only to catch his breath, which he did far too often. Her throat burned. “Can’t you go faster, Elam?”
“I’m speeding as it is. We’re in town. Not far now.”
The trip had taken much too long. Why did the clinic have to be so far? The dim glow of the streetlights illuminated Joseph’s red face.
Mamm reached over the car seat and patted Naomi’s hand. “Don’t worry so. We’ll be there soon. You just drive careful now, Elam.”
He clung to the steering wheel and peered out the windshield. At least he heeded Mamm’s instructions.
After another eternity, they pulled into the parking lot. Elam rolled to a stop as she grabbed Joseph’s car seat and hopped out, Mamm sliding out the other side.
“I’ll park and be right—”
Naomi slammed the door.
By the time she carried her wailing child inside and registered him at the desk, Elam had joined them. Why had he come? Better for him to stay in that truck. Mamm was here.
The waiting room buzzed with activity. Sick children. Some virus or bug must be going around. Maybe Joseph had picked up his illness from one of the children at the church service two weeks ago. Mamm calmly sat on one of the chairs on the far side of the room. Probably praying.
Elam sat across from her, clasping his straw hat with his big, work-roughened hands. She paced the room and jiggled Joseph on her hip. Elam patted the chair on his left. “Come sit, Naomi. You’re going to wear yourself out.”
“I can’t. What’s taking them so long?”
“Fretting about it won’t make them call you sooner. Now sit. I can hold Joseph if you want a break.”
“Nein, denki.” The harsh words flew from her lips, but she would not give her son to him. Never. “I’m sorry, Elam. I shouldn’t have been short just now. I am thankful for your help tonight.”
She moved the car seat from the chair beside Mamm and sat. Joseph’s little body melded into hers. She kissed his burning cheek.
Elam peered at Joseph. “Does he often get sick?”
“The doctor said if he got a respiratory infection, it could be very bad. He has a hole in his heart, and that is not good for his lungs. I don’t fully understand, and it’s hard to explain. It’s dangerous for him to be sick.” Like always, he managed to get her to open up. To share her heart. She couldn’t allow that. He’d broken it once before. She wouldn’t give him a chance to do it again. She pursed her lips together.
A nurse dressed in bright blue scrubs emerged from the doorway to the side of the desk. “Joseph Miller?”
Naomi gathered Joseph’s diaper bag and stood. She and Mamm followed the nurse into one of the small rooms and sat in the chairs beside the little desk.
Naomi leaned over, willing her hands to stop shaking.
Julie, as the nurse had introduced herself, took Joseph’s history, his blood pressure, his temperature and his pulse, and typed everything into the computer. “So he hasn’t been sick that long?”
“A sniffle or two this morning, but I didn’t think anything of it. I put him in bed before I went out. My mamm was watching him, and she sent for me not too long afterward to tell me he was crying and wouldn’t eat.” She shouldn’t have left him. It was her fault he got so sick. Mamm pulled her into a side hug.
“Any tugging on the ears?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Naomi forced the words around the lump in her throat.
Mamm patted her hand.
“Cough?”
“Yes, deep and tight.”
The questions went on. Mamm sat beside her until Julie finished. “The doctor will be in soon. If you need anything, just holler. I’ll be right down the hall.”
As the nurse closed the door, Naomi worried the hem of her sleeve. Mammrubbed her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. He’s made of sturdy stuff.”
“I’m scared.” Her insides quivered.
“I know. But God is watching out for him.”
“I could lose him.” More tears streamed down her face.
“I know, my daughter, I know. But the doctors will take gut care of him. He will be fine. You’ll see.”
Mamm’s words washed over her, but her stomach still tightened. “Even with Aaron’s accident and Daniel’s fall, I never felt like this. So helpless. So frightened of being alone.” She nestled Joseph against her, the one good thing in her life.
Dear God, don’t take him from me. I can’t stand to lose him.
* * *
Naomi kissed her sleeping son on his cool cheek and pulled up the blanket to his chin, careful not to rock the cradle and wake him. Now, with several doses of antibiotics in him, his breathing was once again normal. Such a scare he’d given her the other day. Denki, Lord, that he’s well.
As well as he could be for a child with a hole in his heart.
He puckered his blue lips and puckered his mouth in his sleep. With one more kiss, Naomi slipped out the bedroom door.
Mamm, a basket of laundry in her hands, met her at the bottom of the steps. “Ready for your first day back at the bakery?”
Naomi’s stomach churned. Other than the singing on Sunday, she hadn’t been away from Joseph since his birth. And look how that had turned out. “I don’t want to leave him. What if he needs me? He did when I went to the singing.”
“Laura and I will be here all day. You’ll be across the street. His getting sick had nothing to do with you leaving him. It’s gut for you to get out of the house, even if only for a few hours of the day. If you don’t, you’ll go stir-crazy in no time. And a happy mamm makes for a happy bobbeli.”
“Still...”
“Off with you. Take your mind from your worries for a while. Go, before I make you iron all of this.”
Naomi tried to smile at Mamm’s joke. Ironing was the worst form of torture. “I’m going, I’m going. Anything to avoid that.” She gave a slight chuckle. “But you get me if Joseph needs me for anything at all. Anything.”
“I will.” Mamm kissed her on the cheek in much the same way she had kissed Joseph. Her tight muscles relaxed a little bit.
Before she knew it, Naomi stood on the threshold of the walkout basement’s back door leading to the downstairs bakery. After drawing in a deep breath, she stepped inside, warmth enveloping her, the yeasty aroma of bread, doughnuts and cinnamon rolls welcoming her.
She hadn’t been here as an employee since Joseph’s birth. The people, the routine, the work had brought her a measure of comfort after Daniel’s death. Perhaps Mamm was right. Maybe being here would keep her from worrying about her son, even if only for a few hours.
Rachel Miller, her sister-in-law and best friend, scurried into the hall. “Naomi, welcome back. How gut it is to see you.” She wrapped her in a hug. “How is Joseph doing?”
“Fine now. But that illness was one of the scariest things that I’ve ever had to experience.” Joseph was her precious only child. His sickness could have been serious, even life-threatening.
“The Lord is gracious. And it is gut to have you beside me again, even if it’s only a few days a week.”
They entered the kitchen, and Naomi stared at the stoves lining the walls, the big sink in the back and the large metal table in the middle where the women did most of their work. Rachel squeezed her shoulder. “Are you okay? You sure you’re up for this?”
She had to be. “Ja, except it’s almost like I’m dreaming. But Mamm says it’s gut for me to get out of the house for a while, and the money will help with the repairs to the dawdi haus so I can move in there. Have a measure of independence.”
“Whatever the reason you came back to work, I’m glad you’re here.”
They set to their tasks, Rachel kneading dough that would become pretzels, and Naomi kneading seven-grain bread. Before long, the rhythm of the work settled her.
“You crazy old man, what are you doing?” A voice carried from the back room.
Naomi turned to Rachel. “Is that Sylvia Herschberger?”
“Sounds like it.”
“Just getting this flour you wanted.”
Naomi chuckled. “Ja, that’s Simon answering her.”
“Let me help you with that.”
Elam? Was that his voice? Her stomach fluttered in her midsection. Which was ridiculous. He had helped them when Joseph got sick, but that was all.
“Watch out.”
Boom. Crash. Bang.
“Simon!” Sylvia screeched.
Naomi wiped her hands on her apron and scurried to the back room. “Ach, Simon, oh no.”
The older man lay on the floor, his right leg jutting out at an odd angle. Elam pulled a ladder off him. Sylvia stood over her husband, wringing her hands. Flour covered all three of them and the floor. Dust floated on the sunlit air.
Naomi hurried to his side. “What can I do? Tell me how to help.”
Elam’s green eyes widened when he saw her. “We’ll need an ambulance.”
Rachel reached Naomi. “I’ll run down the street to call for one.”
Naomi knelt beside the gray-haired man, his hat crushed underneath him. “Simon?”
“Oh, my leg.” He spoke the words through gritted teeth.
“I told you not to climb up there for the flour.” His wife paced the room stacked with large quantities of baking supplies, her black shoes leaving prints on the dusty floor. “Why didn’t you wait for Elam to get here to do it?”
Elam motioned for Sylvia to stop. “That doesn’t matter. Right now, let’s get him comfortable while we wait for the ambulance.”
Sylvia wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “There are pillows and a blanket on our bed upstairs.” She wobbled on her feet.
“I’ll get them. And you look like you need a chair.” Naomi held her by the arm. “Lean against the wall. Will you be okay while I grab a seat for you?”
Sylvia nodded.
Elam placed the ladder against the shelves. “I’ll help you carry everything.”
Naomi opened her mouth to object, but shut it right away. Instead, she followed him up the stairs. “Why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same question.” He opened the door to the family’s living quarters.
“I’m trying to scrape together some money to repair the dawdi haus for myself and my son.”
“And Simon asked me to make a few new picnic tables for the Englisch to sit on when the weather’s nice. The ones they have now are unsteady and falling apart. They’re giving me a chance to prove myself and show people I’m serious about returning. I’m hoping it will lead to a new business venture. How is Joseph, by the way?”
She popped into the Herschbergers’ bedroom and pulled a couple of pillows and a red-and-blue wedding-ring quilt from the bed before returning to the kitchen, where Elam grabbed a chair. “Fine. And once more, denki for what you did for us when he got sick.”
“I’m happy I was at the singing to give you a ride.” His smile was tight, like he forced it.
They descended the stairs and returned to the Herschbergers. Naomi knelt beside Simon. “Here you are.” She lifted him enough to slide two pillows under his head, and then covered him with the quilt. Elam helped Sylvia into the chair.
Simon grasped the coverlet, his knuckles turning white. “Guess I’m going to have to go to the hospital.”
Naomi took care not to hurt him when she straightened the quilt over his twisted knee. “You’ve broken your leg. And done a good job of it. Let’s hope that’s all.”
“How long do you think I will be out of commission?” Simon groaned.
“Only a doctor can answer that.” What was taking that ambulance so long?
A furrow appeared on Simon’s brow. “But the auction is coming up.”
All the air rushed from Naomi’s lungs. That auction was to raise money for medical needs in the district. Like for Joseph’s surgery. And Aaron’s ongoing expenses. Simon did most of the organizing. How would they pay for anything without the funds the event raised?
Elam peered out the door. “I hear the siren. The ambulance must be just down the road. You hang on.”
Simon winced as he nodded. “And you and Naomi will take over coordinating the auction.”
“You want us to do it?” Elam spun around to face inside.
“You’ll do a fine job. I won’t have to worry with the two of you in charge.”
Elam hawed for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“Make an old man happy. Let me rest well.”
Simon couldn’t be serious. “Nein,we can’t.” They couldn’t.
“She’s right. It would be too—”
“Nonsense. You can make it work.”
Elam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Fine, we’ll do it.”
A bolt of lightning couldn’t have shocked her more. “We will?”
Chapter Three (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
The sirens wailed as the ambulance raced from the bakery’s parking lot, carrying Simon Herschberger to the hospital, his wife at his side. Elam relaxed his shoulders. His friend and mentor was in gut hands now.
He turned to walk up the driveway, back to his wagon loaded with lumber for the picnic tables. The crowd of curious Englischers dispersed, some to their cars, others into the line for their baked goods.
Naomi scurried in front of him, blocking his path, her hands on her hips. “What did you do that for?” Her voice was a low growl.
“Do what?” His innocence was an act, one she was sure to see through.
“Volunteer us, me, to organize the auction. How could you do that without consulting me? Do you know how much time and effort that takes?” Color rose in her cheeks. “And I have a very sick bobbeli to care for. One who needs surgery as soon as possible. When am I supposed to have the time to work on this with you? You, of all people.”
The shine in her face got his blood to pumping. Her anger pierced him. When had their love turned to such bitterness? He peered around. Several of the Englisch stared at them. “You might want to keep your voice down.” He nodded in the direction of the bakery.
She whipped around and then turned to face him, the red that had graced her cheeks dissipating.
“That’s why I said you and I would put it together. Much of the money raised will go to pay Joseph’s medical bills and my daed’s. You’re as invested in this as I am. I thought you’d want to be part of it.”
“I have no desire to do anything other than sew a few quilts and bake a couple of pies. Besides that, leave me out of it.”
“Simon and Sylvia are counting on us.” Ja,it would be difficult to see her on a regular basis, but he could find a way to do it. Couldn’t she? Maybe they would be able to discover a path beyond the hurt.
“I suggest you volunteer someone else. It won’t be me.” She turned her back to him once more and started for the bakery.
He caught her by the elbow. Why he did it when she had just lashed out at him, he couldn’t say. “Won’t you reconsider?”
“Who’s making a scene now?”
He bent to her height and whispered in her ear, the clean scent of soap tickling his nose. “Please assist me. I’ll do most of the work.”
“Aren’t you helping your daed on the farm? Since his stroke, I think he’d need you.” She kept her gaze forward.
“I am, but Isaac will soon be back to take over the day-to-day operations. You know farming isn’t my life’s calling.”
“Go build your picnic tables, Elam, and leave me alone.” She yanked free of his grasp and scuttled to the kitchen.
This time, he let her go.
He scrubbed his face. Would he ever live down what he’d done years ago? It had been an accident, and she had turned her back on him when everyone else did. Then and now it seemed she couldn’t pardon the man she had claimed to love. He lost himself in the work in front of him, sawing and screwing and sanding until he shed his jacket and wiped sweat from his forehead, the day warm for early spring.
The line of customers stretched out the door, around the path, up the steps and into the parking lot. Naomi and the others inside would be busy. But he glanced up as a group of Amish women exited through the back door. And there Naomi was, in the middle of the bunch, a slight smile touching her lips as she reacted to whatever Rachel said.
He averted his gaze. Bumping into her so much made being back in the district more difficult. Part of him still loved her as much as when he left. But another part of him ached at her hard-heartedness. Motherhood added a soft roundness to her face, color to her cheeks, straightness to her back. Though he had first thought she hadn’t changed, she was not the woman he left behind.
“What are you doing there?”
Elam sucked in a breath. Rachel peered over his shoulder as he screwed two pieces of wood together. “You want to scare a man to death?”
“Ach, it’s not that easy to frighten you. If I had really wanted to, I would have snuck up even quieter.” Rachel stood with her arms crossed.
“So you were trying to give me a heart attack. Isn’t it enough we’ve had an ambulance here once already today?”
Naomi tugged on Rachel’s arm. “Come on, let’s have some lunch. The other girls are already sitting down to eat. It’s busy, and they’ll need us back soon. Especially with Sylvia not here.”
Rachel nodded at Elam. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Ja, I need a break.” Elam wiped his hands on his pants. “Let me wash up, and I’ll join you.”
A scowl appeared on Naomi’s face. Well, she may not be happy about it, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting a bite to eat. More than anything, he wanted her forgiveness. Everyone’s forgiveness.
After a stop in the washroom to scrub his hands and face, he joined the girls at a table away from where the customers ate their baked goods. Still the crowds stared, giggled and even pointed.
The only spot available was on the end of the bench, right beside Naomi. He plopped down, and she scooted as far away from him as possible, knocking elbows with Rachel as she unwrapped her sandwich from the wax paper. Rachel scraped some dilly chicken salad onto a paper plate and handed it to Elam.
He ate a few bites before turning to Naomi. “When would be a gut time to get together to work on the auction? I can speak to Sylvia when she returns from the hospital, find out what Simon has planned and what we still need to do. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“I told you I’m not working with you. You volunteered for this. Take care of it on your own.” Her words were so icy, her breath should have puffed in small clouds in front of her.
“Wait.” He grabbed her by the forearm. She winced and pulled away. Should he press the matter? Ja, what did he have to lose? He had promised Simon. “You haven’t heard the best part yet.”
“There’s more?” She hugged herself.
“We can make it the biggest, most successful auction yet if you tell your story about Daniel and Joseph to the newspapers across the state. The Englisch will flock here to buy quilts and furniture and baked goods, all to support a widow and her little son.”
She clenched her fists and sat back, almost tilting off the bench. “You want me to do what?” She almost screeched by the end.
He closed his eyes and grimaced. Once again, he had managed to anger her. He couldn’t seem to do anything else.
* * *
A cold sweat broke out all over Naomi. “Absolutely not.” She kept her voice low to avoid drawing attention from the bakery’s customers for the second time today but stern enough for Elam to be clear about her desires. “I will not help you with the auction. And I will not, under any circumstance, go to the papers.” She wadded up her sandwich wrapper and stuffed it into her bag.
He opened his eyes, and a vein in his neck throbbed. “After all this time, are you still so angry?”
Her thoughts scrambled in her brain like eggs in a frying pan. How did she identify this burning in her chest? Anger? Or something just the opposite? “So much has changed since the night of the accident. So much that can never be undone. Don’t you understand?”
“I do. But you once claimed to love me. Didn’t that mean anything? Can’t you forgive me?”
She breathed in and out, the back of her neck aching. “You ask too many difficult questions. Ones I don’t have the answers for, that I may never have the answers for. I’m dealing with my husband’s loss and my son’s serious illness and disability. Isn’t that enough?”
The other women gathered the remains of their lunches and meandered inside to resume work. Naomi rose, as well. With a brush of his hand against hers, time stood still. Just like years ago, her knees went mushy, and she thumped into her seat. She nodded at Rachel to stay. Her friend shrugged and bit into a peanut butter cookie.
Elam plowed ahead. “The auction is just a couple weeks away. If you’re going to tell your story to the papers, we have to contact the reporters soon. You want to give their readers enough notice so they can make plans to come here.”
“It’s bad enough to have these people here, staring at us. We’re nothing more than a tourist attraction.” She motioned wide, her gesture sweeping over the lot packed with cars, one pulling up the gravel driveway every couple of minutes. “But to encourage even more of them to come, that’s not a gut idea.”
“What are they going to do?”
“Disrupt our lives. Mine has been stretched and changed until I don’t recognize it. I don’t need any further interference.” Couldn’t he go away and leave her alone? Just leave her in peace? “Why are you even back in the area? Do you want to bring the Englisch to us?”
“Nein, not at all.”
But he had abandoned her. When she’d gone to him for comfort, he had left. And hadn’t returned until now. “Don’t you miss the friends you made out there?”
“I missed the Amish much more.”
“And your family? How do they feel about you being back? Won’t they miss you when you leave again?”
“I’m home to stay, Naomi.”
She couldn’t help but be doubtful. Forever didn’t mean much to him.
He stabbed his plastic fork on his plate. “Listen to me. The most important person to you in your life is your son, nein?”
“Ja, that’s right.”
“He’s beautiful, Naomi. Such a gift from the Lord. All you have left of Daniel.”
Rachel stared straight ahead, her eyes filling with tears. “My brother would have done anything for his little boy.”
“He would have been a wunderbaar daed.” Naomi patted Rachel’s hand.
Elam nodded. “Parents are like that. They would make any sacrifice for their children. Even though I’m not a daed yet, I know I would walk to the moon if I thought it would help my children. Isn’t giving Joseph the best chance at a happy, healthy life worth anything you might have to do to make that happen?”
Tears now clouded Naomi’s eyes. The way Elam had of putting things... “Of course. That’s why I’m working here. That’s why I take him to the doctor, why I walk the floor with him at night, sing to him, love him. But there are things I can think of that I wouldn’t do.”
“Wouldn’t you do anything that was legal, moral and ethical?”
“Maybe.” Every time Elam came near her, she couldn’t think straight. He spoke with pretty words and was very convincing. If he were Englisch, perhaps he would be a lawyer.
“All you would have to do is sit down with a couple of reporters and tell your story. Tell them how much you love Joseph. What he means to you. And the good the auction does, not only for your son, but for people like Aaron and Simon and my daed.”
All of her muscles tensed. She couldn’t cry. Wouldn’t let him see how much he affected her. But the back of her throat burned.
Why did God have to take Daniel? Why did He have to make Joseph so sick? And why had He brought Elam back?
“Fine, I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Four (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
Naomi lifted her face to the sun and breathed in the scent of warming earth. Mamm, about to make an oatmeal pie, had found herself out of brown sugar. With Joseph down for a nap and the weather this warm and beautiful, Naomi offered to walk to the bulk food store. What she didn’t tell Mamm was how perfect the timing was. She and Elam had a meeting with Sylvia to pick up the information Simon had put together for the auction.
She hadn’t found the courage yet to tell her parents she was working with Elam. Forcing the words through her lips shouldn’t be this hard. But she held back. They would not approve of her spending time with him, though they had no basis for worry. She would never let him worm his way into her life again. Once this auction was over, she would steer clear of him for the rest of her life. She would have to tell them sooner or later. Nothing stayed secret for very long here. But she would hold off as long as she could.
A slight breeze tugged at her dress. She shouldn’t enjoy this taste of freedom as much as she did, but every now and again, it was nice to not be Naomi the widow, Naomi the mother of a child with special needs, Naomi the bakery employee, but just Naomi. As a small blue car whizzed by, she jumped to the side of the road.
In a few days, the early daffodils would be in full bloom. Tulips’ leaves peeked above the ground. The buds lining the tree’s twigs were about to burst open. Spring.
Amid the back-and-forth calls of the cardinals in the trees came the clip-clop of a horse’s hooves. Which of her neighbors was out and about? She turned and groaned. Nein. Not him.
Elam held the horse’s reins in one hand and waved at her, a smile deepening the creases around his mouth. “Gut morgan, Naomi. I’m glad I found you.” He slowed Prancer, his shiny black buggy horse, to keep pace with her. “I stopped at your house to pick you up, and your mamm told me you had left already. She said you were on your way to the store, but she didn’t know about the meeting.”
Naomi sucked in her breath. “You told Mamm about it? You had no right to do that.”
He pushed back his straw hat. “How was I supposed to know you didn’t tell her?”
“Well, I mean, you should have, it’s just that...” She sighed. Elam was right. She shouldn’t have kept that information from her parents. But when she got home, she would have to see the double disappointment on their faces. “Fine. You weren’t at fault. But I didn’t ask for a ride.”
“I know you didn’t, but I thought it might be nice.”
She kept walking.
“Naomi.”
The clicking of the horse’s hooves behind her halted. Elam’s footsteps approached. “Come on. You can’t stop talking to me forever.”
“Ja, I can.”
“See, you already spoke three words.”
Despite herself, the corners of her mouth turned up. He always did have this way of making her smile, of keeping her from being too serious. That’s one of the things she loved about him. Had loved. Didn’t love anymore. But he did have a point. She stopped. “Fine. You win this time. It would be silly of me to walk when you’re going that way.”
Once they were both settled in the closed buggy, Elam clicked to the horse, and they trotted off. Several times, she caught him glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. Finally, she had to say something. “What do you keep looking at?”
“Can we agree to be civil to each other? At least while we work on the auction.”
“I’m always polite.”
“Glad to hear that.” His words were clipped and short. Had she offended him? How, by being cordial?
She didn’t have time to mull over the thought as they arrived at the bakery. They slipped around to the back, went up the stairs and knocked on the door. Sylvia answered, a few salt-and-pepper hairs escaping from under her kapp. “Ach, how gut to see both of you. I was just dozing off, so forgive how I look. Let me put the kettle on for some tea.”
Even though Elam entered, Naomi stood firm in the doorway. “We’re sorry to disturb you. Please, go back to your nap. You must be exhausted.”
Sylvia waved her in. “Nonsense. The place is too quiet without Simon. I just sat down with my sewing to give my old bones a rest, and I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“How is he doing?” Naomi brushed shoulders with Elam as she entered, a shiver racing through her. Once inside, she stood a few feet away from him.
“Grumbling that the hospital meals aren’t as good as mine and that the nurses don’t let him sleep. In other words, he’s much like his old self.” A twinkle sparkled in Sylvia’s blue eyes. “Another few days there, and then he’ll be my problem. Now, Simon had something he wanted me to give the two of you. Sit at the table, and I’ll be right back.”
She hustled out of the room as Elam and Naomi took their seats, Sylvia’s basket of needles and thread on the table, small scissors and a pair of pants beside it. Naomi shifted her feet. “We shouldn’t be bothering her.”
“She told us to come. We won’t stay long, just enough to get Simon’s notes. I do have another surprise for you, though.” He winked, and her cheeks burned. Why did her insides flutter when he played so coy with her? Daniel had been gone only a little over a year.
Naomi rose, drew an old, stained mug from the cabinet and set about making tea. Even if they wouldn’t stay to enjoy it, Sylvia would benefit from a cup.
Before the kettle whistled, Sylvia lumbered in, a large cardboard box in her hands. “Oh dear, I didn’t realize how heavy this was.” She plunked it on the table, worn from many family and community meals.
Elam stood and peered inside. “What is all this?”
“Everything Simon says you’ll need to finish the preparations for the auction. You’ll find his contacts for the auction house, the list of donated items and whatever else you might have to have. I don’t know exactly the full contents. He always handled every little detail, so you might have quite a job on your hands figuring out what is what and what you need to do.”
Naomi brought over the steaming cup of tea. The sweet fragrance of chamomile was homey. Her muscles, tense since Elam had driven up behind her, relaxed. She set the mug in front of Sylvia. “Elam will get it straight. Don’t you or Simon worry about a thing. Enjoy your tea, and we’ll leave you in peace.”
“You’ve only just come.”
“And now we must go. We have Aaron’s old wheelchair, the one he used before he got the motorized version, so if your husband needs it, let us know.”
“Denki. You really are too good to an old woman like me. And you, too, Elam, for doing this.”
“I’m grateful to Simon for giving me a chance to get back into the district’s good graces.”
They said their goodbyes, Elam carried the box out and Naomi started down the driveway so she could get to the grocery store.
“Hey, where are you going?” Elam made his way around the Englisch in their usual long line for baked goods.
“I told you. Mamm needs brown sugar.”
“But I’m going to take you to see a surprise. Have you already forgotten?”
In the same way the women ogled the new baby in church, the Englisch watched Elam and Naomi. She squirmed under the intense scrutiny. This is why she didn’t really want to speak with the papers. She didn’t want to be any more of a spectacle to the Englisch.
With no other choice, she marched to where Elam waited with his buggy. When she got close enough, she hissed at him. “In the future, please refrain from shouting at me in public. Or anytime at all. I have to be on my way. Joseph will wake from his nap and be ready to eat.”
“I won’t keep you long, I promise. When we’re finished, I’ll run you to the store and then home. You’ll be back sooner than you would have been had you walked everywhere.”
Maybe if she gave him what he wanted, she could be rid of him faster.
Probably not.
With a sigh, she climbed into the buggy.
* * *
After a short ride from the bakery, Elam reined Prancer to a halt near a tree on the far side of the parking lot in front of the large, rectangular red-and-silver metal pole barn used for auctions. Most of the time, the Englisch used it to sell their produce.
Naomi hadn’t cracked a smile since they left the Herschbergers’. And she pulled her frown down farther as they sat in the buggy and stared at the building. What could he do to get her to grin? “What do you think of my surprise?”
“I’m supposed to be surprised?”
“You didn’t think I’d bring you here, did you?”
“As far as surprises go, it’s about as good as an unplanned root canal.”
A hearty chuckle burst from Elam, and even Naomi gave a soft laugh. Ach, so much more like it. “Point taken. Next time I surprise you with something, it will be better. I promise.”
“Why are we here?”
“Because my mind has been whirring since Simon asked us to finish the plans for the auction. I have so many ideas, but I need your help.” He jumped from the buggy.
Naomi climbed down before he could assist her. “There’s not much to do. We set up the bakery items over there, the plants and such here, the tools there and everything else inside. Like it’s always been done.”
“That’s fine, as far as it goes, but we have to think bigger and grander if we want to raise more money. Like maybe having one of those shaved ice trucks I’ve seen at the county fairs. If it’s a hot, sunny day, that should bring in an extra boost of cash.”
“I’m not sure. Shouldn’t we limit our offerings to Amish-produced items? Isn’t that why the Englisch come? They can get shaved ice everywhere.”
“But it would be a big seller. We have to continue to add new offerings and change things around, or we won’t get repeat customers from year to year.”
She shook her head and pulled her eyebrows into a deep V. “While it’s fine to search for ways to improve the auction and increase proceeds, those who come are looking for a uniquely Amish experience. They wouldn’t appreciate seeing a vendor they could find at any county fair. We’ve always done things the same way, and it’s always worked. Have you changed so much you don’t remember?”
He huffed. Naomi was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. Time hadn’t changed that. “Can’t you see how gut this will be for the auction?”
“And slowly, you’ll take away everything Amish about it until it’s like any other craft fair. I think including a silent auction for those who don’t like to bid with others watching is a much better idea.”
“And I think I’m going to find out how we go about getting a shaved ice truck.”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” She waved as if dismissing him. “You have my blessing. Can we go now?”
He deflated a little. “I thought you’d be more excited.”
“This is your project, not mine.”
“Why won’t you help me?”
She faced him, red blooming on her cheeks. “Why not? You’re kidding me. You really don’t know the answer to that question? Let me tick off the reasons for you. My brother and his permanent disability. Your leaving me. My humiliation in the district when you took off. Isn’t that enough?”
He stepped back. “It was an accident, Naomi, nothing more than that. I never set out to harm your brother. Or you.” Maybe putting this together with her wasn’t the best idea in the world. But like it or not, they were stuck on the project. “I was young and foolish. And scared. And you turned your back to me, refused to even listen to me. But as we work together, you’ll see I’ve grown up. Give me the chance to show you that I’m not the same man who left three years ago.” His heart banged in his chest.
She paced in small circles, her focus on the gravel at her feet. “I’m sorry to have gotten so angry with you.” She kicked at a stone with her bare feet.
“Can we put aside our differences long enough to make this work? Neither of us wants to go to Sylvia or Simon and tell them we can’t do it.”
“You’re right.”
“Does that mean you’ll partner with me?”
“Partner, no. Give you a helping hand from time to time, fine. I give up, because you’ll pester me until I agree.”
The way she said it was almost like he was a bully. “I don’t want to pressure you.”
“I said fine. I’ll make sure the quilts come in and get organized, along with the donated items. And arrange the bakery sales. What else?”
He sighed. One major obstacle overcame. They spent the next few minutes reviewing a list of items that needed to be taken care of, one he’d written up last night while the gas lamp hissed overhead. With the box from Simon, the list was sure to grow.
“Is that enough for now? I don’t want to overwhelm you since you have Joseph to look after and your job.”
“That will be gut. I’ll let you know when I have this finished.”
“One more thing. The papers. You never answered me if you would go to the press and share Joseph’s story with them. It’s sure to bring in many more tourists. The story is moving and should compel the Englisch to come and buy our products. Raise more money.”
Naomi rubbed her prayer kapp string between her fingers. “There are so many needs in the district right now. Like Simon. He’ll need help, too. And your daed.”
“All the more reason to sell as much as we can. What harm will it do? We’ll tell them no pictures. No Englischer will even know it’s you.”
“They won’t?”
“If the paper wants the story, they’ll have to publish it anonymously.”
“They’d do that?”
“I believe they would.”
She scrunched up her forehead. “Can I give you my answer in a few days? I have to think.”
“Sure. But don’t wait too long. We’ll need time for the interviews and for people to make their plans.” A streak of lightning and a quick crack of thunder brought Elam’s attention to the sky. When had the thick, black clouds rolled in? A gust of wind pulled his straw hat from his head and sent it skittering across the parking lot. He gave chase to it, several more bolts of lightning brightening the now-dusky afternoon.
He and Naomi raced for the buggy. She fell behind.
“Ah.” Her cry cut through the rolling thunder. “Elam.”
He turned. She’d fallen, her bare shin scratched and bloodied. The first fat drops of water fell to the gravel. He hurried and helped her up. While they ran, he kept a hold of her, the rain pelting them. They finally reached the buggy, the fierce wind buffeting it, and it swayed side to side. Now soaked to the skin, they climbed aboard.
Naomi shivered, and he pulled her to himself. They used to be close like this.
A streak of light. A deafening crack. The ground shook.
Kaboom.
Naomi shrieked.
The tree they were next to split in half and crashed to the earth, missing the buggy to each side.
She trembled in his arms.
He held her close and whispered against her cheek. “Hush now. We’re safe.”
But would his heart ever be?
Chapter Five (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
Only the clinking of silverware on the dinner plates broke the silence around the Yoders’ large farmhouse table. Mammloaded Daed’splate with another heap of creamed corn. He grasped his fork with his left hand, his right one paralyzed by the stroke, and tried to shovel the vegetable into his mouth.
Much of it ended up back on the plate or in his lap. He grunted, the right of his mouth downturned. “Can’t even eat properly.” He thunked his fork onto his dish, pushed away from the table and reached for his walker.
Elam jumped to his feet and grasped his daedby the elbow to help him to stand.
Daedshook him off. “I don’t need your help. I’m capable of getting out of a chair.”
“I just thought it would be easier...”
“Easier. That’s what you always want, isn’t it?”
Elam scrunched his eyebrows as he stared at his daed.When had the lines formed around his eyes? When had he become an old man? “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You run away when times get hard. Now you’re back, but for how long? A week? A month? A year?”
“You know I’m back to stay. I came to give you a hand until Isaac returns, but I’m not leaving the district again.”
“I don’t need your help. We could manage just fine.”
Mammshook her head as she carried the dishes to the sink. “Nein,we weren’t managing at all until Elam came home. How would the crops get planted if not for him? Don’t be a foolish old man. We need his help.” She turned and smiled over her shoulder. “He came on his own, volunteered to do this. Let’s not turn him away.”
Elam sucked in a breath. Is that what Daed wanted to do? Open the door and give him a shove outside?
“Nobody said anything about that.” The muscles on the good side of Daed’sface strained as he pulled himself to a standing position. “Just didn’t ask for his help.” He shuffled out of the kitchen, the back door slamming behind him.
Mammreturned to the table with a dishrag in one hand. She patted Elam’s cheek. “Don’t be so glum. I hate to see you sad like this.” Many laugh lines crinkled around her eyes and mouth. Over the years, she had plenty to be happy about. And plenty of heartaches to cry over.
“He barely tolerates my being here. Even across the table from me at dinner, he glances my way only when necessary. When Isaac returns, he’ll be happier.”
“That’s not true. He loves you.”
“You can’t convince me.”
“He’s afraid he’s going to lose you again. He couldn’t stand that, you know.”
“Why does no one believe that I’m staying put?”
“Give them time to see you’re sincere. When troubles come and you face them head-on, then they’ll trust you.”
“And can they forgive me? Forget the past?”
Her face softened, and she stared at a spot behind him. “That I cannot answer for anyone else.”
When she set to washing the dishes, he wandered outside, the early spring evening cool. Daedwasn’t on the porch. Where could he have gone? In the short time Elam had been home, he’d built a ramp so Daeddidn’t have to negotiate the stairs. Mammhad thanked him. Daedhad not.
A light shone from one of the barn’s windows, the one that held Daed’soffice. Elam walked down the porch steps, across the dusty yard and into the barn, the odors of hay and cows as familiar to him as the smells of Mamm’sapple pie. The animals munched their dinner, lowing songs to each other. On a bale in the far corner, the new litter of kittens mewed.
He entered the office through the open door, Daedat the desk, scratching in the account books with a pencil, his lips drawn tight as he struggled to use his left hand.
“Do you have a few minutes?”
Daed grunted, not even glancing at Elam. “What is it you want?” Even with therapy, his speech remained slurred.
“I’ll do those figures for you later.”
“I’m capable. There may be much I can’t do anymore, but writing is one thing I can. And figuring numbers.”
“I just thought...” This was getting off to a terrible beginning. Best to start over. “What do you have against me?”
“Nothing. You’re my son. But sometimes, I wonder. You always were...” Daed squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brow. Sometimes he couldn’t recall the word he needed.
“Independent.”
“Ja,and stubborn and strong-willed. What are you doing here? Why did you truly come back?”
Elam’s windpipe tightened. “I missed this place and the people. And it was time to stop running, to face up to what I did. I didn’t realize that making amends would be so hard.”
“You can’t walk back into people’s lives and expect them to let go of what happened like that. You—” Daed pointed straight at Elam’s heart “—have to prove yourself.”
Isn’t that what he’d been doing? How long was it going to take? So far, he hadn’t made headway with anyone. Including Naomi.
“Time and hard work. That’s what you need.”
Had Daed heard his thoughts? Elam puffed out a breath, then spun on his heel and left the office and the barn. He stood in the farmyard and stared at the multitude of stars in the sky. In the city lights of Madison, they got lost. Here, they were almost close enough to touch.
In order to show the people of the district he wasn’t the man who left, he would have to start with Aaron’s family. Already, he had upset Naomi. He shouldn’t have dismissed her objections to the shaved ice the way he had. If he admitted so to her, perhaps they could work together better.
Aaron sat in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. If that’s the amount of time it took for Elam to make amends for the accident, then that’s how long he would work for it.
* * *
Naomi pressed her nose against the window of Frank’s van. Joseph was peacefully sleeping in the car seat beside her. In her hand, she held the information for his surgery. The one he needed sooner rather than later, according to the information the doctor had just shared. Naomi leaned over her son and whispered. “Dear God, protect my baby. Make him strong. Make me strong. Help us get through this.”
Elam was correct. This year, there were many medical needs in the district. Much as she hated to admit it, she had to work with him on the auction. He was going to bring Simon’s box and meet her at her home to go through it. She would have to be as nice to him as possible. They would get nothing done if they argued.
She rubbed her upper arms. The way Elam held her during the storm warmed her through and through. For a brief glimmer of time, she was safe. Cared for. He watched out for her.
But Aaron would always be a reminder of what happened that night Elam betrayed her trust. He’d broken her brother’s body and her heart. She wouldn’t let Elam back into her life. No matter that Simon threw them together to organize the auction.
Maybe Elam did have a point about the papers, though. Perhaps if she gave them an interview, people would be interested and would come from all over the state to the auction.
Her palms dampened at the thought of having to talk to the reporters. What would they ask her? What would she say?
Just as Frank turned into the driveway, Elam pulled his buggy in behind them. She unbuckled Joseph’s car seat and stepped out with a wave to Frank.
Elam came toward them and tickled Joseph’s tummy, and the now-awake bobbeli squealed. “I hope the doctor had nothing but good things to say.”
“She said it was time to schedule the surgery. He’s going to have it in July.”
“That’s gut, isn’t it?” He grasped one of his black suspenders.
“Ja,I suppose.” So why did her head ache?
He touched her arm. She stepped away. “Please, don’t.”
Nein, she couldn’t rely on him for help and comfort. But her chest ached. Some nights, alone in her room, she cried herself to sleep. How much lonelier it would be when she moved to the dawdi haus. “Come in. We can start sorting through the papers.”
He grabbed the box from his buggy and followed her into the house. Mamm took Joseph and Naomi and Elam settled at the table, the large box between them.
He cleared his throat, and she gazed at him. An uneven red flush mottled his neck. “First of all, I want to apologize for the other day.”
“You...you do?” Why did her stomach dip the way it did?
“Ja. I shouldn’t have dismissed your ideas the way I did. That was inconsiderate of me. You make a gut point. This is an Amish auction, not an Englisch one. All the other items we offer come from our communities. We should forget the shaved ice truck.”
“Having a hard time finding a vendor?” She flashed him a playful grin.
The red creeped into his cheeks. “Well, now that you mention it.” He chuckled, his coloring returning to normal. “I’m not incapable of seeing reason. You were right. I was wrong.”
Warmth seeped into her chest. The old Elam rarely admitted his mistakes. “Denki for your apology. Offering a cold treat on a warm day was a nice thought. Is there an alternative to the shaved ice?”
Elam stroked his clean-shaven cheek. “Your family makes the best ice cream I’ve ever had. Just vanilla, but there is a secret ingredient in there, say not?”
“There is, but you want to make ice cream? How are we going have enough for all those people?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Multiple machines hooked up to generators?”
He grinned, and her arms broke out in gooseflesh. She focused on the pencil in her hand.
“That’s a great idea. Maybe someone in the district has a large-capacity churn.”
“I’ll ask around at the church service next week.”
For a long while, they sorted through the papers, Naomi jotting notes on a yellow legal pad, filling several pages with people they needed to contact, payments that had to be made and ideas they had.
She could almost close her eyes and imagine that the past three years hadn’t happened. Almost. His deep voice washed over her and lulled her.
Elam’s words broke into her into thoughts. “I’d like to make some furniture pieces for the auction. I was hoping your daed would let me use his equipment. I have an Englisch friend who has a workshop in his garage, but I want to construct them the true Amish way.”
If Daed allowed Elam to work here, she would run into him every day, just as she had when he was Daed’s employee. Did her hands tremble because of dread or excitement? She had to say something to him, but what? Surely not that she was happy he’d be so close. “Well, I hope the meeting with him goes well. I think we’ve reached the end of the stuff in the box. I should feed Joseph before he fusses.”
Elam rose and filed the papers away. “And what about the newspapers?”
She locked her knees to keep them from knocking together. “Go ahead and contact the reporters. I’ll speak to them.”
“I have the letters ready to put in the mail. Would you like to read them first?”
“Nein. Just send them.” Before she changed her mind.
Chapter Six (#ua872dbea-3ae6-5016-8bae-fa82f9bae235)
The tang of pine and the sweetness of maple permeated the shed where Leroy Bontrager ran his woodworking shop. As Elam made his way through the building, he glided his hand down a length of quarter-sawn oak that had been sanded to a mirror-like smoothness. The whir of the gas-powered table saw welcomed him home. Ja, this is where he belonged. Construction, as he’d done while away, was building. Woodworking was creating.
“Hello, Leroy, are you here?”
Naomi’s father entered the main room from the back. He wiped dark stain from his fingers onto what must have been an old shirt. The heady odor of varnish hung about him. “Elam. Why are you here?”
Not the start he’d been hoping for given that first meeting between them. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. “You’re hard at work, as always.” Several kitchen chairs sat in a row along one wall, as did a couple of bookshelves and a large dining room table with well-turned legs.
“Of course.”
“Daed told me you hired Solomon Mast to help after I left.”
“Aaron gives me a hand as much as he can, doing a few things from his chair. But I can’t run this place with the two of us. Solomon is a gut man, but still learning. He puts in a hard day’s work, and I appreciate that. But he doesn’t have the eye, the insight that you...”
Had Leroy been about to compliment him? “Naomi and I have been working on the auction. She said they’ve set the date for Joseph’s surgery.”

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