Courting Her Prodigal Heart
Mary Davis
Mother-to-be’s Amish HomecomingPregnant and alone, Dori Bontrager’s sure her Amish kin won’t welcome her—or the child she’s carrying—into the community. And she’s doubly determined that her return won’t be permanent. Soon as she finds work, she’ll leave again.But with her childhood friend Eli Hochstetler insisting she and her baby belong here, will Dori’s path lead back to the Englisher world…or into Eli’s arms
Mother-to-Be’s Amish Homecoming
A Prodigal Daughters story
Pregnant and alone, Dori Bontrager is sure her Amish kin won’t welcome her—or the child she’s carrying—into the community. And she’s determined that her return won’t be permanent. As soon as she finds work, she’ll leave again. But with her childhood friend Eli Hochstetler insisting she and her baby belong here, will Dori’s path lead back to the Englisher world...or into Eli’s arms?
MARY DAVIS is an award-winning author of more than a dozen novels. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and is active in two critique groups. Mary lives in the Colorado Rocky Mountains with her husband of thirty years and three cats. She has three adult children and one grandchild. Her hobbies are quilting, porcelain doll making, sewing, crafts, crocheting and knitting. Please visit her website, marydavisbooks.com (http://www.marydavisbooks.com).
Also by Mary Davis (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)
Prodigal Daughters
Courting Her Amish Heart
Courting Her Secret Heart
Courting Her Prodigal Heart
Her Honorable Enemy
Romancing the Schoolteacher
Winning Olivia’s Heart
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Courting Her Prodigal Heart
Mary Davis
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09041-4
COURTING HER PRODIGAL HEART
© 2018 Mary Davis
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.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“I came for a drink of water.”
“Come on in.” Dori pulled a glass out of the cupboard, filled it at the sink and handed it to Eli.
“Danki.”
She gifted him with a smile. “Bitte. How’s it going out there?”
He smiled back. “Fine.” He gulped half the glass then slowed down to sips. No sense rushing.
After a minute, she folded her arms. “Go ahead. Ask your question.”
“What?”
“You obviously want to ask me something. What is it? Why do I color my hair all different colors? Why do I dress like this? Why did I leave? What is it?”
She posed all gut questions, but not the one he needed an answer to. A question that was no business of his to ask.
“Go ahead. Ask. I don’t mind.” Very un-Amish, but she’d offered. Insisted.
He cleared his throat. “Are you going to stay?”
She stared for a moment and then looked away. Obviously, not the question she’d expected, nor one she wanted to answer.
Dear Reader (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8),
I hope you enjoyed the third book of the Prodigal Daughters series, featuring Amish women with nontraditional hopes and dreams.
I wanted to portray women who didn’t follow the traditional path for an Amish. And what prodigal series would be complete without a true prodigal who turned her back on her way of life, her family and everything she knew? For this book, I wanted a young woman who looked very different from the Amish. But deep inside, she still held on to a few core Amish beliefs. I had to figure out what would drive someone so against the Amish way of life back into their midst.
Dori is dear to my heart because she had such an emptiness inside her that she was looking everywhere to fill. Finally, she found what she sought: Gott. Unlike Kathleen and Deborah, Dori isn’t named for one of my wonderful sisters. But I did dedicate this book to my late son, Josh. He was my prodigal who found people fallible and God sufficient. If Josh had met Dori with her rainbow hair, he no doubt would have fallen in love with her.
Happy reading!
Blessings,
Mary
It was meet that we should make merry,
and be glad: for this thy brother...
was lost, and is found.
—Luke 15:32
German Proverb (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)
Mer sott em sei Eegne net verlosse;
Gott verlosst die Seine nicht.
One should not abandon one’s own;
God does not abandon His own.
To my son Josh
Contents
Cover (#u20bd6d2d-c8a0-5949-bd07-a94009ed3372)
Back Cover Text (#u73abc0d4-24af-5f50-ab49-065ef81634fd)
About the Author (#u53cbf577-1b81-5640-be5d-b4bccababa19)
Booklist (#u113d9887-6e4e-5a3a-8ef2-f7fa94275606)
Title Page (#u5d275a16-4c3e-5eb2-bc1a-743b6310ad0c)
Copyright (#u4439f752-6d90-55a5-aaea-5feef0fe08f1)
Introduction (#u9cc54833-b43c-5ecf-88bc-ab59f26aaeb0)
Dear Reader (#ud9a41aee-01cb-5126-a6d6-6519fc10a750)
Bible Verse (#u1c3a0493-93aa-5ee2-82f7-60b4a30b42af)
German Proverb (#ud6fdfdec-a7b2-5ad4-a901-f4cad2d6fe1a)
Dedication (#u208fc188-dfad-5aec-8eee-ecd569e3fa74)
Chapter One (#ufde11d9d-75f4-59dd-b822-7da9bf9e7d02)
Chapter Two (#u07fee578-6ab8-50fd-9b8c-342e8e5d3d14)
Chapter Three (#u9e59aabb-98db-5ede-9587-3e9c03fa9d36)
Chapter Four (#u5d60bd00-ca92-576f-b863-f6c85d069348)
Chapter Five (#u5304a500-1278-5f2f-93eb-4e9eac3a169a)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)
Goshen, Indiana
With the reins in hand, Eli Hochstetler drove his vater’s supply-hauling wagon through Goshen in the early-June sun. Dutch’s hooves clip-clopped on the pavement.
Daniel Burkholder sat on the seat next to him. “Have the church leaders given you permission to purchase a computer and make a website?”
Eli shook his head. “I haven’t asked yet.”
“Why not? The summer is going to be over before you know it.”
“I need to have more items made first.” Eli had branched out his blacksmithing from the practical horseshoes, weather vanes and herb choppers to decorative items like napkin holders, door knockers and small animal figures. This second group of items would be marketed toward Englishers, hence the need for a computer and website. Not everyone who requested such privileges were granted them.
“Shouldn’t you make sure they’ll let you before you go to the trouble?”
“I want to show them I have a need and meine work can support a business. I also need to learn about websites and such.”
“You can’t create your own website. They wouldn’t allow that. You’ll need an Englisher to do that.”
“I know. I’m not sure how to go about finding one.”
“Doesn’t every Englisher know about computers?”
Eli shrugged. “I think so. If I know a little, I’ll know how to talk to an Englisher about meine website.”
His attention gravitated toward Rainbow Girl. That was what he called the young woman with rainbow-colored hair. His gaze automatically followed her.
For the past six months, he’d seen this same girl every time he came to town, without fail. Her multicolored hair made her hard to miss, but she held herself differently today. Not the usual bounce in her step. Not the usual head held high. Not the usual carefree swing of her arms. Her head hung low, and her shoulders hunched over. Her fancy black knee boots scuffed the sidewalk, and her body shook as though she was crying.
What drew him to this stranger? An Englisher, no less. It made no sense.
Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
Ne, this verse didn’t apply.
Not for an Englisher. Therefore, not his responsibility. And none of his business.
“You aren’t going to ask her for help, are you?”
Daniel’s question brought Eli back to his right mind. “Of course not.” He snapped the reins to hurry up Dutch. He had errands to complete and work to do.
“What is it about that Englisher that makes you stare?”
Eli shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The last three times I’ve ridden into town with you, you’ve watched her. You don’t do that with other Englishers.”
Eli hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. “Who wouldn’t notice someone with hair like that? You’ve obviously noticed her also.”
“That’s different. You stare like you’re trying to figure her out.” Daniel’s assessment was too accurate.
Eli struggled to figure out what drew him to this one Englisher. He didn’t want to talk about her anymore. “We should get the lumber first, then the feed.”
A while later, with his errands done and the wagon loaded down, Eli drove back through town. Would he see Rainbow Girl once more? He hoped not. He didn’t want Daniel bringing her up again.
But there she sat. Alone. Huddled on the curb in front of a sandwich shop with her arms wrapped around her bent legs.
He guided Dutch into the small strip mall parking lot, pulled the draft horse and wagon through two adjoining spaces and hauled back on the reins.
Daniel elbowed him. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll be right back.” After setting the brake, he jumped down and headed toward Rainbow Girl.
He hesitated a few feet away. What did an Amish man say to such a person?
One side of her hair had been cropped very short while the other side hung down to her shoulder. The short side shone bright red, and her ear had five earrings. Purple bangs swooped across her forehead and partially covered one eye. Then came sections of blue, green, yellow, orange and around to the red again. All of it had about an inch of brown close to her head. Why would anyone do that to her hair?
Her jeans had several large holes up and down the entire fronts in various sizes. With her legs bent, her black-net-covered knees poked out the biggest openings. A green army-style jacket hung loose over a baggy T-shirt.
Englishers were strange.
His heart raced being this close to her after all these months and now contemplating speaking to her. He should leave, but instead, he said, “Are you all right?”
Slowly, her head rose, and she stared at him as though she’d seen something out of the ordinary. Perhaps she had. Amish didn’t normally talk to Englishers like her.
Her lips were purple, similar in color to the hair that covered part of her face. Above her upper lip sat a dot of silver metal. She had a small silver hoop hanging from the one eyebrow he could now see. Heavy black makeup encircled her eyes as though she’d used soot. Below them, the black had run and smeared. Why did Englisher women choose to cover up their beauty with so much paint?
“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
All her makeup couldn’t disguise the pain in her eyes. Pain that came from deep inside. From her heart and soul. “You don’t look fine.” There must be something he could do. Why he felt a need to help her, he didn’t know. He pointed to his own face. “Your eye... The black stuff... Never mind.”
She wiped her fingers below each eye, further smearing the inky mess. “I’m fine.”
This woman obviously didn’t want anything to do with him. He shouldn’t bother her any longer. He should leave. Instead, he sat on the curb near her, keeping a respectable distance, at least four feet. He glanced toward Daniel, who shook his head.
Eli needed to make sure she was all right. “My name is Eli.” He’d never imagined ever being so close to her. The nerves in his fingers and toes tingled. He clasped his hands together to dull the sensation.
She turned toward him and raked the purple hair from her face with her hand. “What are you doing?”
He wasn’t sure himself. “You’re clearly upset about something. Maybe you need some company.”
“I am, and I don’t.”
Even though she dismissed him, he couldn’t bring himself to sever the tenuous connection with her and stand. “What’s your name?” Something about her struck him as familiar, but he couldn’t imagine what. Probably by seeing her frequently, he’d become accustomed to her.
“If you weren’t Amish, I’d think you were some sort of creepy stalker.” Did she have a lilt of an accent?
He placed his palm on his chest. “I mean you no harm. Won’t you tell me your name?”
She changed her focus to her purple painted nails and picked at them. “Dori. Why did you sit down with me? That’s not very Amish.”
He gave a chuckle. “You probably won’t understand this, but I felt Gott leading me to come over to you.”
She chuffed out a breath. “God? God doesn’t care about me.”
“He does. Very much.”
Her words rushed out. “Then why has my boyfriend kicked me out? I lost my stupid low-paying job. And I have no place to live. Trust me, God does not care about me.”
“What about your family? You could ask them for help.”
She pulled a tight smile. “Trust me, my family doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Have you asked them?”
“There’s no point.”
“You don’t know until you try. Your family may be waiting to hear from you. Waiting for you to come home.”
She shook her head. “It was nice of you to stop and try to help. You’ve done your good deed. You can go now.”
Gut deed? Was that what she thought? If he simply needed to complete a gut deed, he had many neighbors he could help.
This had not been his idea. But had he done all that Gott had in mind for him to do?
She inclined her head toward his wagon. “Your friend is waiting for you.”
“He will wait.” Eli considered her. She had no job and no place to live. That likely meant she had nothing in her stomach. He stood and took a retreating step. “Come.”
She glanced over her shoulder and up at him. “Why?”
He poked his thumb behind him at the sub shop. “I will buy you a sandwich.”
The one visible eyebrow shifted down. “What? Really?”
“Ja. Come in and pick out what you want. If you don’t, I’ll pick for you.” He reached for the door handle.
“You’re serious.” She scrambled to her feet.
He held the door. “Pick whatever kind of sandwich you want.” With his other hand, he held up his index finger to Daniel to let him know he’d be a minute.
The male server behind the counter pulled on clear plastic gloves. “Welcome. What can I make for you?”
Rainbow Girl’s voice came out small and uncertain. “I’d like the sweet onion chicken teriyaki.”
“Six-inch or twelve?”
Rainbow Girl said, “Six—”
Eli spoke over her. “Twelve-inch, please.”
She looked at him sideways.
He knew she had to be hungry. She could eat the other half later if she didn’t want it now. She chose her bread and veggies.
He ordered two more twelve-inch sandwiches, one for himself, the other for Daniel, and got them all chips and chocolate milk. He set her food and drink on a table but didn’t sit.
“I need to go now.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate this.” Her mouth curved up a little bit, and his insides responded happily. “I won’t tell anyone you helped the strange Englisher—” she lifted her hands and flipped them around in tight circles “—with the colorful hair.”
He should do more but didn’t know what. “You should talk to your family. I’m sure they miss you.” Englisher parents had to love their children too, didn’t they?
“I’m sure they don’t. I’ve done things they’ll never be able to forgive.”
This poor woman had next to nothing.
“Give them a chance.” He dug in his pocket and put a ten-dollar bill on the table. “Spend this on food.” But there was no guarantee she would.
She stared at him.
Though he wanted to stay longer with her, he turned and hurried out before she could refuse it. He cast a glance over his shoulder. What was it he felt for this stranger? Pity? Ja. But there was something more to it. Compassion? Ja. But still more. He continued to mull it over as he approached the wagon, and the impossible truth hit him. Attraction.
How could that be? It certainly wasn’t her appearance. It had been when she’d thanked him and smiled. It had caused his insides to wriggle like a fish trying to get away.
He couldn’t deny it. She was someone he wanted to get to know better, but that would be ill-advised. The best thing to happen would be to never see her again.
Dori. Knowing her real name dispelled some of the mystery about her. He would always think of her as Rainbow Girl though.
He suspected it would be a while before he could shake her from his thoughts.
Something inside Dori ached for the handsome Amish man to stay with her a little longer. He headed out the door and toward his horse and wagon. Eli Hochstetler hadn’t recognized her. Nor had the other Amish man with him. Just as well. She’d worked hard to erase any trace of her former Amish self. Eli made her long for...for... What? Something more. But what was that something? Craig? No. Then what? She stared after his retreating wagon and wanted to call him back.
How weird to see and talk to an Amish person. She hadn’t done so in four years, avoiding them whenever possible.
Eli had surprised her when he bought her—an Englisher—a sandwich. He had always been kind even though a bit rigid and unbending with people’s actions, like his father and her grandfather. The three of them would have plenty to say about all her poor choices. Choices that had been right for her at the time.
He likely had many thoughts about her hair, makeup and clothing. And what had he thought of her piercings? She chuckled to herself. If he had recognized her, no doubt he would have been horrified and wouldn’t have spoken to her at all. She’d thought she’d blown it by calling herself an Englisher, but it seemed to have sailed right by him. She was glad he hadn’t recognized her. This way she could keep this little moment she’d had with him special.
He’d looked so uncomfortable talking to her. It had been kind of cute. Eli had always been appealing. His intense brown eyes still captivated her. She’d almost told him who she was and that she knew him, but she feared it would have put him off, and she’d appreciated his kindness. He would have judged her actions as vulgar and unacceptable, but as an Englisher, anything she did would be viewed as merely an example of their strange ways.
Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of him being repulsed by her if he knew. She desperately didn’t want him to think poorly of her. She wanted him to like her again. What was she thinking? It must be her out of whack hormones.
With her stomach satisfied and the other half of the sandwich tucked inside her backpack, she headed down the street.
After two weeks of morning sickness and fighting with Craig, Dori had packed suitcases with her clothes, books, and various items from around the apartment, and checked herself in at a women’s shelter. How pitiful her life had become.
How could Craig not want his own child?
The following morning at the shelter, she shoved her damp toothbrush into her backpack in preparation to leave for the day. Her hand hit something hard. She gripped the cold, curved metal and pulled it out. At the sight of the iron door knocker, she froze. Even though she had put it there, it surprised her. Why? Because she’d seen and talked to Eli yesterday? He’d created this in his forge. She gripped it hard. The prodigal son story came to mind.
And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father—
She sucked in a breath. No, she could never go back there. Would her father even let her return? He might, but her grandfather never would. Amish had a propensity for forgiveness, but her grandfather had quit speaking to her even before she’d left because of her wild ways. If he saw her now, would he even recognize her? Would any of them? Eli hadn’t. She smiled at his sweetness yesterday. Thoughts of returning to the Amish people were Eli’s fault. He’d put the idea in her head.
Dori shoved the iron door knocker back into her backpack.
—and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee.
Boy, had she ever sinned.
Even shunned, as she would be if she returned, the Amish would treat her better than this. They would feed her, give her a clean bed and take care of her, even if she had to eat at a separate table from the rest of her family. Though no one would be allowed to talk to her, she would be provided for. Her child would be treated well and taken care of. Her child wouldn’t go hungry if Dori was forced to remain there for an extended period, nor would it go without clothes or a bed, and it would have a roof over its head. What more did either of them need right now?
She would go back to the community until she could get a job and support herself and her child. Only a temporary solution.
And she would get to see Eli again. That thought made her insides smile.
Chapter Two (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)
Later that morning, Dori stood in the buggy-filled yard of her parents’ Amish home.
The shelter manager had told Dori that being homeless was no life for her child. She even specifically said that the Amish community would be a good place for both her and her baby.
Dori doubted that. It was strict and overshadowed by so many rules. Too many to keep track of.
She wanted to run after the car that had dropped her off but instead stood in the midst of the buggies for several minutes, contemplating what to do. The vehicles mocked her, reminding her that she didn’t belong. But somewhere beyond them, inside the house, sat Eli Hochstetler. Had she not run into him and seen the potential for the Amish to treat her with even a small amount of compassion, she doubted she would have come.
She stepped between the buggies, and her breathing came in catches. She didn’t want to go inside and have everyone stare at her. She’d hoped to arrive unnoticed. Just her family would know she had come. Not only would they be surprised but shocked. She couldn’t turn back now. No way did she want to return to the unpredictable women’s homeless shelter. The one thing she could say about the Ordnung rules, they made life here predictable.
She ventured toward the house she’d grown up in and climbed the porch. Sweat broke out on her upper lip. Just look for Eli. He will welcome me. She was sure of it.
Voices rose in a cappella with the words from hymn 131, “Das Loblied,” “Hymn of Praise.” Always the second song.
The words floated back to her like a gentle breeze, and she mouthed the all-too-familiar hymn as she stowed her suitcases at the end of the porch. As though being drawn forward by something outside herself, she moved toward the open doorway. With a deep breath, she slipped inside at the back of the room. Fortunately, everyone was on their feet for singing. Wouldn’t Eli be surprised to see her?
And there he stood in the last row on the far side in the corner. His usual place. He looked in her direction and stared for a moment with wide eyes, probably wondering why she—an Englisher—had invaded an Amish service. He motioned her over and pointed to his place.
Her stomach twisted even more. She shook her head, undeserving to take his seat and preferring to stand by the door for a quick exit if she needed it.
He crossed to her, causing several of the single men who always inhabited the back of the room to turn. He guided her to the bench.
She wanted to refuse, but more than that she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. No going unnoticed now. She stood where he’d been, and he positioned himself between the end of the bench and the wall. “Thanks,” she whispered and turned from him. She had been right about him welcoming her. At least until he found out who she was.
The man she stood next to jerked his attention forward. He’d obviously been staring. Was he the same one with Eli yesterday? She knew him but couldn’t pull his name out of her tumultuous brain. It would come to her later. Rather than singing, she hummed along with the other voices, not wanting to give away her heritage. People would know all too soon who had invaded their midst.
After the next hymn ended, everyone sat. She did so as well, now grateful for a seat. She would blend in better sitting as opposed to standing by the door. As much as she could blend in with brightly colored hair and Englisher clothes.
How unorthodox for a woman to be among the young, unmarried men. This would cause a stir. Without enough room on the bench, Eli stood against the wall, as did a few other young men. Having him near gave her courage. Several of the men along the bench glanced in her direction. She tried to feign invisibility.
The bishop stood in the front of the room, Bishop Bontrager, her grandfather. Strict. Inflexible. Judgmental.
She held her breath. Would he see her? Of course he would with her hair. How could he miss her? She might as well be wearing a flashing neon sign on her head. But would he recognize her? Would he accept her back? He and the other leaders were hard on young people who indulged too much during Rumspringa or left the faith altogether. Both of which she had done. She’d never planned to return, but here she sat. She wished she’d worn a dark beanie hat to hide her hair.
He was giving one of the three sermons that would be preached by three different men this morning. Though his voice didn’t have the edge to it she remembered, it still grated on her nerves, hearing his years of admonishments echoing in her head.
Please, don’t have him see me. Now she wished she had waited on the porch. She could’ve listened from there just as well.
She glanced up at Eli, who was staring at her, and her heart skipped a beat. He jerked his gaze away and to the front where it should have been. Had he been trying to figure out why an Englisher was here? Or had he recognized her?
She turned her attention to the bishop, who spoke about the woman caught in sin.
Strange. Dori tilted her head. Was that compassion for the woman in his voice? In times past, he would pound the point home that the woman had been caught in sin and would focus on her sin and how wrong she’d been.
His gaze flitted over his flock but kept returning to Dori, and finally, it rested on her. His words halted momentarily. Could he have recognized her? Even with her strange hair and makeup? What would he do now? Single her out as the sinful woman she was?
His eyes softened even more, and his lips pulled up ever so slightly at the corners. He didn’t take his eyes off her as he went on. He thumped his fingertips on his chest when he emphasized that the eldest among the accusers dropped his stone first and walked away. “‘Neither do I condemn thee.’” He spoke the words as though they were just for Dori.
She swore she could see a tear roll down his cheek. Had he changed in the years she’d been gone? She couldn’t imagine that he had. Too much to hope for.
When he was through, he sat in one of the chairs up front off to the side reserved for the church leaders but kept his gaze on her.
She couldn’t tell if he was chastising her for being the biggest sinner of them all or if he was... Dare she hope he forgave her?
It didn’t matter. Even shunned here with the Amish was better than being in the shelter out there, wondering where her next meal would come from. Scared. Alone. She would actually prefer to have people not speak to her rather than face their condemnation.
When the service concluded, Dori remained seated while others filed outside to eat lunch in the late-spring sunshine. People glanced at her on their way past or pretended not to see her at all. Just as well. Dori kept her head down when her parents passed by. Everyone left except Dori, Eli Hochstetler and the bishop.
Eli motioned toward the door and spoke in English. “We eat a meal together. You’re welcome to join us.”
She delighted in his kindness and wanted to savor it. The fact that he was handsome didn’t hurt. His nearness fortified her nerves.
Bishop Bontrager approached and spoke in Deutsch. “I’ll see to this young lady.”
Though Eli appeared reluctant, he gave a nod and left without protest.
She wanted to call back her benefactor. Her champion.
The bishop held out his hands, palms up, continuing in Deutsch. “You’ve come home. At long last.” He had recognized her. What was this welcoming attitude?
“Ja. Ne.” But she was here, and this had once been her home. “Ja.” Dori stared at his hands a moment, then put hers in his. She didn’t know what else to say. Should she come right out and tell him she was going to have a baby? She should tell him, but he seemed genuinely pleased to see her. She didn’t want to destroy that. Didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face when he learned how far she’d fallen. She wanted to bask in the joy and love she felt at this moment. What must he think of her wild appearance?
“You’ve grown up in the years you’ve been away.” He squeezed her hands. “Let’s go tell your vater and mutter you’ve returned.”
Dori pulled free. “Ne. Not out there. Not in front of everyone. I didn’t realize it was service Sunday. I hadn’t even realized it was Sunday at all.”
He pulled his eyebrows down. “You didn’t know it was Sunday?”
She shouldn’t have admitted that. She braced herself for a lecture about going to church.
But instead, he held up a hand. “Wait here, and I’ll bring them to you.” He walked out, but stopped at the door and stared at her. “Welcome home, meine enkelin.” He left.
Was she welcome? Would she be welcomed by her vater and mutter? If the bishop could welcome her, then certainly her parents would. She put one hand on her stomach. But would she still be welcomed when she told them? Even the New Order Amish here in Elkhart County, Indiana, had their limitations of what they would tolerate. She had gone far outside those boundaries.
She should leave. Before the bishop and her parents returned. But how could she escape without being seen? If she left now, where would she go? Return to the shelter? To Craig? He’d made it clear that the only way he’d have her back was if she “got rid of it” as he put it. She caressed her growing stomach. Her baby was a person to be loved and who would love her. Not something to be gotten rid of.
When the door opened, Dori jumped and spun around. She faced her parents.
Bishop Bontrager motioned toward her. “Our Dorcas has come home.”
She cringed at her given name.
Mutter’s face lit up, and she rushed to Dori and hugged her. “You’re home. You’re finally home.”
Dori hugged her in return. She’d missed her. “I’m back.” Sort of. No sense clouding the moment by telling them she didn’t plan to stay.
Vater hung back. “Until the next time she doesn’t like the Ordnung rules.”
Two out of three people happy to see her wasn’t so bad. Or was that three out of four if she counted Eli?
Would she be forced to abide by the Ordnung if her stay was only temporary? Would she follow the rules for the sake of her child? The Ordnung offered a degree of safety and security. Two things she needed most right now. “I will try.” She couldn’t promise anything more than that.
He gave a nod. “Then welcome home.” But his words weren’t filled with cheer or even pleasure, only resignation. “Come eat.”
She couldn’t have pretense and secrets if she was going to live under her vater’s roof. When he found out, it would be worse. “Wait. I have to tell you something first.”
Three sets of questioning eyes stared at her.
Best to get it over with quickly. “I’m going to have a baby.”
Mutter clapped her hands together and put them to her lips. “Our first grandchild.”
Vater glanced around and then narrowed his eyes at her. “Where is your husband?”
The temptation to tell him that her “husband” had died tickled her tongue. He would accept that, and everything would be fine. No one would have any reason to shun her or hate her.
But she couldn’t.
“I have no husband.”
Mutter gasped.
Vater glared. “So this is why you have returned. Where is the vater?”
“He doesn’t want us anymore.” Craig’s rejection had hurt more than anything.
“See where your sin has gotten you?”
“Andrew,” Bishop Bontrager said.
Her vater narrowed his gaze at his own vater, the bishop of the whole community. “She has brought this on herself. I want no part of her.”
Mutter gasped again. “Andrew, you can’t mean that.”
“I do. And you are to have nothing to do with her either.”
The bishop put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “We must all forgive trespasses as the Vater in heaven forgives us.”
Her vater shot his hand out to the side, pointing at the floor. “Not this. If we forgive her, what does it say to all the other young people going on Rumspringa?”
The bishop straightened. “That we show grace and mercy as our Heavenly Vater shows grace and mercy to us.”
“Ne. It shows we condone their actions. Then every girl will return pregnant and every boy a vater-to-be.”
“Release the rock in your hand, Andrew.”
Her vater glared. “You might be able to forgive her, but I can’t.” He wheeled around and walked to the door. He stopped and turned. “Come, Leah.”
Dori’s mutter glanced between her daughter and her husband.
Dori gave Mutter a nod that she understood her mutter wasn’t abandoning her like Vater.
Her mutter gave her a weak smile and followed her husband out.
Dori blinked, freeing the tears pooled in her eyes. Then she turned to the bishop. “What do I do now? I thought my parents would allow me to come back. I have no place to live, no money and no job. I assumed I’d be shunned, but I’d at least have a roof over my head.”
“You have a roof.”
“I don’t want to be in my vater’s haus if he can’t tolerate my presence.”
“You’ll come and live under meine roof. I’m across the yard in the dawdy haus.”
This was a turnaround. She’d thought her grossvater, the bishop, would be the one to reject her and her vater to welcome her. “The dawdy haus isn’t big enough. It has only one bedroom.”
“We’ll manage. I’ll hear no arguing over the matter.”
“Danki.” She needed to know where she stood in the community. “Am I to be shunned?”
The bishop smiled. Or was that her grossvater smiling at her? “Did you join church before you left?”
“Ne.” But he knew that already.
“Then there are no grounds on which to shun you. You don’t fall under the Ordnung or church rules.” He smiled broadly. “So we can eat together.”
“Don’t you eat at the big haus with Vater, Mutter and the rest of the family?”
“I did. But now that you’re here, you can cook for the two of us.”
“Are you sure?” It was as though he was choosing to be cut off like one who was shunned.
“Let’s call it your rent for staying in meine home.”
“Danki. I appreciate this so much, but I have to ask. Why this change of heart? You never would have accepted me home before.”
“You aren’t the only one who did some growing up while you were gone. I’m an old man. I don’t want to spend what few years I have left at odds with meine family.”
“But you are at odds with your son because of me.”
“Andrew will come around. Given enough time.”
Would she be here long enough to see his change? And when she left again, it would confirm that he’d been right about her.
Eli Hochstetler had stared in wonder when Bishop Bontrager left the haus and then returned with his son Andrew Bontrager and his son’s wife, Leah. Why had the Bontragers gone back inside? Why would the bishop want them to meet Rainbow Girl? Unless...they knew her? But how could they? Who was she?
He thought hard and could come up with only one name. Dorcas?
Couldn’t be. But the twisting in the pit of his stomach and the leap of his heart said otherwise.
Rainbow Girl had seemed familiar, and now he knew why. She was Dorcas Bontrager, the sweet girl who had turned her back on her Amish life.
And him.
Anger boiled inside him. Why hadn’t she told him? Why had she returned? Was she here to stay?
Someone nudged him. “Did you invite that Englisher here to make a website for you?”
Eli turned to Daniel. “Ne. I had no idea she would show up.”
“Did you tell her you needed a website? Maybe she decided to see if she could persuade you. Englishers can be pushy that way. Thinking they know better than we do.”
“Don’t talk about her like that. I told her to go to her family.” Apparently, she’d taken his advice.
“I wonder why she came.”
Eli held his tongue.
“Are you coming to eat?”
“Not yet. You go on.”
Daniel walked away.
Soon, the door to the haus opened, and Andrew Bontrager stood in the threshold. Quickly, his wife joined him, and they left. Neither happy. One angry, the other on the verge of tears.
Where were the bishop and Rainbow Girl?
He longed to see her, to make sure it was indeed her—or that it wasn’t. Which did he want? Both. Neither. So he stood at the bottom of the steps, anticipating. Debating. Should he go inside?
Eli startled at the appearance of the bishop and Rainbow Girl in the doorway, and he stuttered out words. “B-Bishop Bontrager.”
The bishop’s eyes widened. “Ah, Eli. This is meineenkelin, Dorcas. And this is Eli Hochstetler. But you two already know each other.”
His gut twisted, and his heart leaped. He stared hard to find some glint of the Amish girl who’d once lived among them. “Dorcas?”
She spoke in Deutsch. “Ja. It’s me. I’m Dori now.”
Even after all this time, he’d still imagined her very Amish. Not...this. “Nice to see you. Again.”
Dorcas smiled a smile to rattle a man’s nerves. “Good to see you again too, Eli.”
Eli understood. The lilt of an accent he’d heard came from her Amish roots.
The bishop stepped forward and pointed to the other end of the porch. “Eli, would you get meineenkelin’s suitcases and take them to the dawdy haus?”
He glanced down at the stoop. “She’s staying?”
“Ja.Meineenkelin has come home.”
Dorcas’s expression said she wasn’t pleased about it.
Bishop Bontrager gave him a pointed look. “Will you bring them?”
Eli wanted to take them for the Amish girl who had left him behind but not for the outrageous Englisher who had returned in her place.
“I can get my own things.” Dorcas stepped in that direction.
“Of course, I’ll get them.” Eli bounded up the four steps in two strides. He gripped the two side handles and hoisted the suitcases.
Rainbow Girl pointed. “They have wheels.”
He extended one index finger. “They’ll bounce around too much going over the grass.” For some strange reason, having her back in the community both excited and repelled him. How could Dorcas—the rebel—interest him? He followed Bishop Bontrager and Rainbow Girl.
As they passed the crowd dishing up food and eating, many stared at Dorcas.
Eli wanted to tell everyone to stop gawking, that they were being rude. He wanted to protect her.
Inside the dawdy haus, Bishop Bontrager indicated next to the door. “You can set them there.”
He didn’t want to be dismissed so soon. He wanted to stay with Rainbow Girl a little longer. “I can take them—”
The bishop lifted his hand. “Here will be fine.”
He set down the suitcases. “Is there anything else I can do to help?” He glanced at Rainbow Girl, who was watching him.
She gave him a small smile in return that delighted him.
The bishop said, “Ne. That will be all. Danki.”
Though Eli wanted to stay, he backed out the door and continued until he stumbled down the two steps. He didn’t need this, any of this. He needed to stop thinking about Rainbow Girl and focus on getting his ironworks business going this summer. And he wouldn’t be asking her for any help whatsoever.
He’d also planned to start courting this summer. He hadn’t decided who to court yet. But it was high time he took a wife.
Dorcas returning changed everything.
Not necessarily for the gut.
Chapter Three (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)
A hole widened inside Dori after Eli left. She glanced around the tiny dawdy haus. Her and Craig’s apartment had been bigger. And she might have been able to mistake this dwelling for any apartment except for the lack of a big flat-screen TV and a laptop.
The bishop grasped the roller handle of one of the suitcases and aimed for the short hallway with three doors. “The bedroom’s back here.”
She gripped the side of the extended handle. “I won’t take your bedroom. I’ll be fine out here.” Fortunately, the full-size couch looked comfortable enough. Couldn’t be any worse than the shelter beds.
He stared at the couch. “But...I...I want you to feel welcome.”
She patted his hand, still on her roller bag. “I do. Danki.” She wouldn’t be staying for long and didn’t want to put him out. The less comfortable she was, the better.
He released his hold on the bag.
How surreal to be here. It was as though she were walking through some bizarre dream. “I appreciate you letting me stay with you for a few days.” Strange that she’d so easily slipped back into speaking Deutsch. Almost natural. The rest of her short stay wouldn’t be so effortless.
“I can’t begin to express how pleased I am you’ve returned.”
“I haven’t returned. I just need a place to stay until I can get things sorted out.” Or until Craig came for her.
“But you’re here, and I’m grateful for that.”
“I’m grateful too. If you hadn’t taken me in, I would’ve had to return to the homeless shelter.”
“Homeless?” His eyes widened. “You are never homeless. You always have a place with me. Let’s go get some food.”
Dori’s insides turned cold. “You go. I’ll stay here.” Though hungry, she didn’t want to face the others and be stared at again. Walking from the big haus to the dawdy haus had been bad enough, like running a gauntlet or being an oddity in a freak show.
“You have to eat.”
She was about to lie and say she wasn’t hungry when her stomach growled loudly. Why couldn’t it have waited a minute or two? “I can’t. You go.”
He hesitated. “Everyone will be glad for your return.”
Dori shook her head. “You saw the way Vater reacted.”
“But your mutter was pleased, as others will be.”
“She’s not allowed to be pleased.” That was clear enough.
“It will be fine. You’ll see.”
She wasn’t convinced. Chances were that more people than not would have a mind-set like her vater’s. If Eli were here to go with her, she might be brave enough to risk it. “I’ll pass.”
After a moment, he nodded. “I’ll bring you a plate of food. Make yourself at home.” He scuttled out the door.
Eli ignored the smells of food and the buzz of people talking around the lunch tables in the yard. Instead, he stood, leaning against a large, blooming fruit tree that had been grafted to bear three different varieties of apples in season. Waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. To catch a glimpse of Rainbow Girl? Ne. Her unruly image was seared into his brain. The bishop to come out? Ne. He would wonder why Eli was standing around and not filling a plate. Eli had no idea why he stood here, just that he couldn’t tear his gaze from the dawdy haus she’d disappeared into.
Daniel once again came up to him, holding a plate heaped with food this time. “Who is she? And why has she gone into the bishop’s haus? Is she planning to convert?”
Eli doubted that. Should he tell Daniel who she was? He would find out soon enough. “She’s Dorcas Bontrager, the bishop’s enkelin.”
“Are you serious?”
Eli wished he wasn’t.
“Weren’t you sweet on her?”
Dorcas? Ja. This Englisher? Ne. “That was a long time ago. I’ve gotten over her.” But had he? His flip-floppy emotions told him there was still something there. But what?
“You better get some food before all the gut stuff is gone.” Daniel took a big bite of the chicken that was on his plate.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. You go on.”
Though Daniel seemed reluctant, he walked off.
When the bishop exited, Eli pushed away from the trunk.
Bishop Bontrager made eye contact and headed in his direction. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“Um... I didn’t know if you would need any more help.”
The old man’s eyes brightened. “I do have something. Let’s fill plates and take them back to meinehaus and discuss what I have in mind.”
Back to where she was. This was a change from being dismissed a few minutes ago. The bishop wanted Eli to help him? An honor.
At the table laden with food, Eli loaded a plate for himself, then carried the second plate the bishop had filled. For Rainbow Girl, no doubt. He would get to eat lunch with her. His heart skipped a beat. Maybe figure out how the Amish girl he’d known could turn into the Englisher one who’d returned.
Before they reached the dawdy haus, Andrew Bontrager, the bishop’s son and Rainbow Girl’s vater, approached. “You’re feeding her in there? Is she too embarrassed to eat with everyone else?”
She did need to eat, and she couldn’t exactly blend in. No Amish liked to stand out from the others. But then, she wasn’t Amish. She had designed her appearance to draw attention to herself.
The bishop held up his hand. “Give her time. Our ways are a lot to get used to.”
Andrew scowled. “She was raised with our ways and threw them away. She knew exactly what it would be like returning in her state.” He strode away, shaking his head.
The old man sighed. “Dorcas isn’t the only one who needs a little time to adjust.” He opened the dawdy haus door and walked in.
If Rainbow Girl planned to stay for any length of time, everyone would need time to adjust. Eli followed and froze just inside. His breath caught.
Rainbow Girl lay curled up on one end of the sofa. Eyes closed. Even, slow breathing. Out of place in an Amish home. Though she gave an unreal feel to the room, his insides felt happy to see her here. He could almost see the sweet, pretty girl from his youth.
Bishop Bontrager put a finger to his lips, then pointed at the table and whispered, “Let’s sit.”
Eli set the two plates he held on to the table. A sound from across the room drew him around.
Rainbow Girl swung her legs off the couch and sat up.
His mouth reacted by pulling into a smile. He straightened it.
Bishop Bontrager waved her over. “I’m sorry we disturbed you, but since you’re up, come eat.”
“I learned to sleep light at the shelter.” She padded over in stocking feet, socks that were like gloves with a different color for each individual toe. She sat in one of the chairs.
The shelter?
The bishop looked at the one remaining chair, then at Eli. “Would you go to the big haus and bring another chair?”
Eli shook his head. “I’ll stand.”
“Are you sure?”
Nodding, Eli picked up his plate and leaned against the counter. If he left, she might disappear like a mirage. Something inside him needed her to stay.
Bishop Bontrager gave a nod and sat. “I’ll say a blessing for our food.”
Rainbow Girl’s fork, with a chunk of potato on it, hovered an inch from her open mouth. She set the utensil on her plate. After the bishop prayed, she picked up her fork once more. “I’ve missed really good potato salad.” She put the bite into her mouth.
Eli stared at Rainbow Girl’s lip. How could she eat with that piece of metal in her upper lip? His own lip twitched. The loop in the side of her nose made his itch, but he resisted the urge to scratch it.
He studied her to find some vestige of the girl she once was. What had happened to that girl he grew up with who bested him in math every time? Where had the girl gone who’d brought him a handicapped puppy? How had she turned into...this?
She didn’t stop eating until her plate had nothing left. Hungry, indeed. It had been gut that he bought her the larger sandwich yesterday.
Eli hurriedly took bites and swallowed the barely chewed food. “Bishop, what is it you need me to do?”
“Let’s finish our food first. It’ll be better to show you.” In other words, eat, no talking.
Eli ate without looking at her again so she wouldn’t realize he’d been paying more attention to her than his food.
When finished, the bishop pushed his plate away from him. “Now, Eli, about that project I have in mind.”
Project? That sounded big. Would it take away from Eli getting his business started?
The bishop stood and retrieved a measuring tape from a kitchen drawer. “Follow me.” He walked down the short hallway to the back door opposite the front one. Hooks hung on the walls leading to the exit. A bedroom door to the right and bathroom to the left.
Eli had actually helped build this little haus many years ago when the bishop had turned over his farm to Andrew. Eli glanced at Rainbow Girl, who shrugged. He supposed he should follow and headed down the hall. She trailed behind.
The bishop stopped at the end of the hall and indicated the door. “I want to extend this another eight to ten feet.” He opened the door and walked down the steps outside onto the grass and turned around. “Come.”
The rear of the dawdy haus faced away from the crowd of people eating and playing.
Eli stepped aside to let Rainbow Girl exit ahead of him. She did. In stocking feet.
He followed this time. “Why do you want a longer hallway out into the yard?”
The old man smiled like a little boy. “For the extra bedroom, of course.” He strode about ten feet straight out from the haus. “Move the door to here. I still want to get cross ventilation. No sense being impractical.”
Eli’s mind whirled. Building onto his dawdy haus seemed impractical. What could he possibly need another bedroom for? Maybe he’d heard wrong. “You...want to make...your bedroom bigger?” That didn’t make sense either.
“Ne. A bedroom for Dorcas.” He turned to the right and held out his hands to indicate the space.
So she planned to stay for quite some time. Or at least, the bishop thought she would stay long enough to need a room.
Rainbow Girl stepped forward. “You can’t do this. I’ll be fine on the couch.”
He waggled his hand at her. “Nonsense. The couch will never do.”
Rainbow Girl folded her arms. “I won’t let you.”
“Uf, it’s meinehaus. I’ll do with it what I like.”
The bishop turned to Eli. “What do you say? Will you help me build it?”
“Why doesn’t she stay at the big haus?” That would be the easier option, and there would be plenty of room for her.
“Because she’s staying with me. Now, will you help?”
Rainbow Girl turned to Eli. “Tell him ne.” Apparently, she didn’t intend to stay.
Again, Eli wanted to say ne to doing something for the Englisher girl who had returned. Since she didn’t want the room—and he really had no other choice—he sided with the bishop. “Ja. I’ll help.” Then maybe he could find the girl she once was under her facade.
“Not only one room, but a smaller one across the hall, as well.” Bishop Bontrager spun around opposite the first room he’d indicated and thrust out his arms. “No sense wasting this space.”
“For what?”
The bishop waved his hand in the air. “No need to get into all that right now. I’d like to go into town tomorrow and purchase the lumber.”
This definitely meant Eli would need to put off making progress on his business. “What about your son? Won’t he help you?”
“Andrew is being stubborn.”
Rainbow Girl planted her hands on her hips. “Would you drop this? He won’t agree.”
Eli didn’t know if she was referring to him or her vater. It didn’t really matter. He had agreed, and the bishop could overrule his son, so, the addition would be built. “I can use meinevater’s wagon. What time shall I pick you up?”
Rainbow Girl rolled her eyes. “Don’t waste your time.”
The bishop turned to his enkelin. “It won’t be a waste.” He swung his gaze to Eli. “I’ll check with Andrew and see if he’ll allow us to use his wagon without a fuss. It’ll be more convenient.”
“Seriously?” Rainbow Girl threw her hands up and headed toward the doorway. “Men think they always know what’s best.” She disappeared inside, still muttering.
Eli frowned. But men did. Even with all that makeup, he could remember how cute she was when she got mad.
Bishop Bontrager clasped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll see the value of it in time.”
A part of Eli found a little pleasure in her being upset with him. She had rejected the community and her family, so she had no say in matters. Another part longed to mend this breach. It rankled to have her angry with him when he’d done nothing wrong, but it shouldn’t, and that rankled even more.
The bishop held out the tip of the measuring tape. “Take it down to that corner of the haus so we can figure out how much lumber to purchase.”
Eli wasn’t sure this was a gut idea, but he was the bishop, so Eli did as instructed.
Andrew Bontrager came around the corner. “What are you doing, Vater?”
“Eli is going to help me build another bedroom onto the haus.”
“What do you need a second bedroom for?”
“I think you know.”
Andrew pointed toward the dawdy haus’s back doorway. “For her?”
“Ja.”
Eli glanced toward the haus. Rainbow Girl stood there with her arms crossed. He hadn’t seen her return to the opening.
“Why bother? She’ll only leave again. Then all the time and materials and work will be for nothing.”
So Andrew didn’t believe she would stay. Did he want her to leave? Did Eli? Ne. He definitely wanted her to stay. Didn’t he?
The bishop held his hands out to his sides. “‘We should...be glad; for this thy brother—’ or sister in this case ‘—was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’ Where is your forgiveness?”
“Forgiveness is for the repentant. Something she is not.” Andrew spun around and strode away.
Bishop Bontrager gazed toward his enkelin. “He’ll come around, Dorcas.”
“Why’s that? Because he didn’t inherit your stubborn streak?” She disappeared inside.
Chapter Four (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)
The following morning, Dori had slept late—well, late for an Amish. She threw back the blanket and sat up on the couch.
It took some doing, but she’d managed to convince the bishop to stay in his room and let her sleep in the living room. She’d slept more soundly than she had in over a month since being kicked out of Craig’s apartment. She had no more worries that anyone would steal her belongings during the night. Sleeping in sweatpants and a T-shirt rather than her jeans and jacket had helped, as well.
The bishop didn’t appear to be anywhere in the haus. Had he already left with Eli? She pictured Eli’s kind face when he’d bought her a sandwich two days ago. Had she missed seeing him this morning?
She heard a sound on the porch, as though something or someone had stepped on a creaky board. With her hand, she pushed aside the blue curtain enough to see out.
Her mutter hurried away from the dawdy haus across the lawn back to the big haus.
What had she been doing here? Had she intended to come for a visit, then changed her mind? Ne. She wouldn’t defy Vater. Then why?
Out of curiosity, Dori opened the front door. On the porch sat a bundle of neatly folded fabrics. She picked up the pile and shut the door.
She spread out the clothes on the couch. Mutter had delivered two cape dresses—one royal blue, the other a medium pink—two aprons—one white and one black—and a white kapp. In the kapp lay several bobby pins. Everything Dori needed to dress the part of an Amish woman. These looked suspiciously like the garments she’d left behind. Mutter was welcoming her home even if Vater wasn’t. She wanted Dori to fit in. To look Amish. To stay.
But Dori didn’t want any of those things. She had been away for several years and had returned in shame. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant and Craig hadn’t thrown her out, she would never have come back. Being destitute and desperate had forced her home.
Home?
Was this home? For the time being, because she had no other option. If only Craig would have accepted their baby. No matter how much she needed her Amish family, this would never be home again.
She fingered the pink dress. Mutter remembered it had been her favorite color as a girl.
Dori wouldn’t feel right wearing Amish clothes. That would give everyone the impression she had come home to stay. Which she hadn’t. She was no more Amish than Craig. Or any Englisher. She hadn’t fitted in before she left and didn’t fit in now. Her vater and the bishop had repeatedly chastised her for one thing or another, trying to make her into a gut Amish woman, but she never could do things quite right, questioned too many of the rules. She’d been a disappointment to everyone. It had been best to leave. For everyone.
Though unwilling to return and no longer Amish, she did need help right now.
She hadn’t expected to have a warm welcome, but she hadn’t expected Vater to scorn her as he had. And she certainly hadn’t expected the bishop, of all people, to take her in. Of anyone, she would have expected him to be the toughest on her, but he was the most welcoming. What had caused his attitude change? If he could show her mercy and grace, maybe there was hope that her vater would soften toward her, as well. Would Eli too? She hoped so.
She took the pile of Amish clothes and tucked them behind the couch’s end table in the corner. She didn’t need the bishop pestering her to wear them.
After taking a gut long shower, she frowned at her brown roots in the mirror. She wouldn’t be touching those up anytime soon.
Overnight, her stomach seemed to have swelled so much that her jeans were no longer big enough to close. She settled for her lime-green sweatpants and an oversize neon orange T-shirt. Definitely not authorized Amish colors, but they fitted over her growing middle.
Now, for breakfast.
A single rinsed bowl with a spoon sat in the bottom of the kitchen sink. It looked as though the bishop had had cold cereal for breakfast. Or had he gone to the big haus?
No matter. She opened cupboards and drawers until she had a spoon, bowl and two boxes of cereal. The first, bran flakes with raisins, and the second, sugarcoated corn flakes. His version of sweetening his cereal. She was glad to see he hadn’t changed in that respect. She mixed the two in her bowl and poured the milk. She’d actually missed this.
When she was a very little girl, from about age six until she was ten or so, she would sneak across the yard to the dawdy haus and eat breakfast with him on Saturday mornings. She laughed to herself. She’d thought no one knew, that it was her and Grossvater’s secret, but Mutter likely watched her skip across the grass, then pretended to be worried over her absence.
Then things began to change. Kathleen Yoder had defied the church leaders and the bishop by leaving the community and attending college. Grossvater had spoken against her actions. He’d pointed a finger in Dori’s face and told her to never do anything like that. His anger had scared her, and she stopped her weekly breakfast treks to sit at his table.
Enough of thinking of things lost. She needed to wash her clothes so she could wear something else tomorrow.
Sometime later, noise from behind the dawdy haus drew her to the door. She opened it.
In the grass stood a wagon full of lumber as well as three young Amish men with the bishop. One was Eli. She allowed herself a moment to savor Eli’s presence, then studied the other two. Who were they? Daniel Burkholder, and the other was...Benjamin Yoder. So the bishop had used his influence to rope in more help. How many more would show up at his request?
Eli hoisted several two-by-fours at once that had to be ten feet long. Smithing had made him quite strong. The other two young men worked together to carry an equal stack. While the bishop carried smaller items like a bag of nails, hand tools and other lightweight things. Eli set his load in the grass and headed back to the wagon for more. His gaze fell on her, and she smiled. He froze. His eyes widened, as though he’d been caught raiding the kitchen in the middle of the night.
She glanced down at herself. She must look a fright in her brightly colored sweatpants and top...and no makeup. Or had the bishop told him about her condition? She hoped not. She didn’t want the tenuous bond between them to be broken. She resisted the urge to place her hands on her rounding belly and leaned a little forward so her baggy T-shirt would camouflage it better. He’d been careful not to mention that the smaller room would be for the baby. She appreciated that. She wasn’t ashamed of being pregnant, but for some reason, she didn’t want Eli to know. Maybe she would be gone before he ever found out.
This was foolishness. “Don’t you need a building permit before you start?” Dori had hoped the bishop would have to wait a couple of weeks before one was issued, giving her a chance to make other arrangements.
The bishop waved a piece of paper in the air. “Got one. Since this is a simple addition with no plumbing, they have a swift process to grant us permits without delay.”
Some Amish obtained waivers to exclude parts of construction that went against their community’s Ordnung but were mandatory in Englisher homes, like indoor plumbing, smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. This wasn’t new construction, merely a simple addition. But this New Order Amish community had most of the same conveniences as people in the outside world, so there wasn’t usually a need to get a waiver, which would take time.
Now, she was going to feel guilty when she left because he’d put in all this money, time, effort and supplies for this project. Probably his plan. A way to shame her into staying. She doubted he could be stopped if he didn’t want to be. His son had probably tried. Maybe she could talk to Eli and convince him to delay the work.
Doubtful. She’d seen his resolve solidify when she’d tried to get him to turn the bishop down for this project. He apparently planned to be as stubborn as the bishop. The image of Craig popped into her mind. He was stubborn too. She pushed thoughts of him aside for the time being.
For now, she turned her attention back to the activity outside. She would like to plant herself on the stoop and watch Eli while he worked, but that would make everyone feel awkward.
So she stayed for a minute before closing the door and taking the impressive image of the blacksmith with her.
With Eli fresh on her mind, Dori headed back to the living room. On her way, she checked on the clothes she’d left to dry in the bathroom. They hung over the shower rod and dripped into the tub as well as onto a towel on the floor. They should be fully dry by morning. She would’ve hung her Englisher clothes outside, but that would have drawn unwanted attention to her family. She needed to remain as invisible as possible during her stay.
She opened her backpack on the couch and retrieved her laptop and cell phone as well as their chargers. Then she unplugged the coffee maker and toaster, and plugged in her devices, stringing the cords over to the table. The phone cord didn’t reach, so she slid the table closer to the counter.
The bishop probably never imagined having such electronics in his haus. But maybe he should. More and more Amish were forced to have websites for online businesses. With farmland becoming increasingly more scarce to purchase, many had to resort to working for various manufacturers or home-building companies, or starting their own construction business or other ventures. The ones with businesses needed websites to draw customers from outside the community. Englishers were nuts for anything Amish made. Foolish people.
She opened her laptop and powered it up. Fortunately, Janis at the shelter, who stole other people’s property, never discovered Dori had this. While she waited for her laptop, she switched on her cell phone and turned it into a hot spot to get Wi-Fi. The service would likely be glitchy, but she had unlimited data, and it would be better than nothing. How had she grown up without computers and the internet?
She logged on to her email account. All junk mail. Nothing from Craig. Working to the sound of clunking lumber being stacked and male voices, she turned her efforts to searching for a job. After an hour of filling out online applications, she made herself toast with peanut butter and returned to the table. Needing a break from job hunting, she opened a new browser window and let her fingers hover over the keys. What should she search for?
For fun, she typed in Eli Hochstetler and hit Enter. To her surprise, hundreds of posts came up from various social media platforms. After the first page of results, the rest were obviously not relevant. She found three that seemed like they were referring to her Eli. All three raved about his ironwork. She clicked on each one and read. One for an herb chopper, the second for a kitchen knife and the third for a weather vane. Pictures for all three items, but none of Eli directly. His muscled arm wielding a hammer in one, the back of his head in another, his rugged profile in the third. She lingered on that picture the longest. Why were Amish so set against having their picture taken? It was only a picture. And Eli photographed well.
Then she studied the backgrounds of all three pictures. Multiples of similar items like the ones in the posts. It appeared as though Eli Hochstetler had gone into business, making more than just horseshoes. Gut for him. He’d always loved pounding on iron. She’d often wondered if he liked it because that was an acceptable way of letting out his aggression. But he never acted angry, like he needed to find a way to disguise the emotion. He genuinely seemed as though he simply enjoyed smithing.
She dug in her backpack and pulled out the door knocker. He had always done gut work. He must have a website. She would like to see all the things he’d made. After trying every variation of website names she could think of for him, her efforts yielded nothing. How disappointing.
Eli glanced at the dawdy haus again, but since that first glimpse, Rainbow Girl hadn’t shown herself. What was she doing inside?
Bishop Bontrager took hold of the horse’s harness. “I’m going to go unhitch Nelly and turn her out in the field.”
Eli raised up from where he set a bag of powdered cement. “I can do that if you want me to.”
“Danki, but I can do it.” The bishop walked the big draft horse away, pulling the wagon.
Eli turned to the other two and grasped the handle of one of the shovels. “Let’s dig a shallow trench for the cinder blocks first.” They would form the foundation of the addition. The string lines had already been set out.
Benjamin Yoder took the other shovel.
Daniel Burkholder grabbed the pick. “I can’t believe the bishop is letting an outrageous Englisher live in his home. And building her a room.”
Eli could hardly believe it himself, but that was not something to voice out loud. One didn’t question the bishop. Besides, the bishop’s actions fell under their Amish rules of forgiveness. “Why shouldn’t he? She’s his enkelin.”
“She abandoned our faith and is English now.”
Though Benjamin Yoder didn’t say anything, he nodded his agreement with Daniel.
Eli didn’t like anyone speaking poorly of her. “She’s obviously decided to return.” At least he hoped that was what she’d decided.
“Dressed like that? And what about her hair? The bishop can’t allow that. Do you think he’s okay? He is pretty old.”
“Of course, he’s fine.” But Eli had to wonder about the bishop, as well. In times past, he wouldn’t have tolerated her appearance, but now, he seemed fine with her returning as she was. He leaned his shovel against the outside of the haus. “I’m going to get a drink of water. Start without me.” He charged up the back steps and through the doorway, wiping his dusty boots as he entered. Then he stopped short. He shouldn’t barge into a haus unannounced with a woman inside. “Hallo?”
Rainbow Girl stepped into his field of vision from the kitchen area. “Hallo.”
His insides did funny things at the sight of her.
“Did you need something?”
He cleared his throat. “I came for a drink of water.”
“Come on in.” She pulled a glass out of the cupboard, filled it at the sink and handed it to him.
“Danki.”
She gifted him with a smile. “Bitte. How’s it going out there?”
He smiled back. “Fine.” He gulped half the glass, then slowed down to sips. No sense rushing.
After a minute, she folded her arms. “Go ahead. Ask your question.”
“What?”
“You obviously want to ask me something. What is it? Why do I color my hair all different colors? Why do I dress like this? Why did I leave? What is it?”
She posed all gut questions, but not the one he needed an answer to. A question that was no business of his to ask.
“Go ahead. Ask. I don’t mind.” Very un-Amish, but she’d offered. Ne, insisted.
He cleared his throat. “Are you going to stay?”
She stared for a moment, then looked away. Obviously, not the question she’d expected, nor one she wanted to answer.
He’d made her uncomfortable. He never should have asked. What if she said ne? Did he want her to say ja? “You don’t have to tell me.” He didn’t want to know anymore.
She pinned him with her steady brown gaze. “I don’t know. I don’t want to, but I’m sort of in a bind at the moment.”
Maybe for the reason she’d been so sad the other day, which had made him feel sympathy for her.
He appreciated her honesty. “Then why does our bishop think you are?”
“He’s hoping I do.”
His heart tightened. “Why are you giving him false hope?” Why was she giving Eli false hope?
“I’m not. I’ve told him this is temporary. He won’t listen. Maybe you could convince him to stop this foolishness—” she waved her hand toward where the building activity was going on “—before it’s too late.”
He chuckled. “You don’t tell the bishop what to do. He tells you.”
He really should head back outside to help the others. Instead, he filled his glass again and leaned against the counter. He studied her over the rim of his glass. Did he want Rainbow Girl to stay? She’d certainly turned things upside down around here. Turned him upside down. Instead of working in his forge—where he most enjoyed spending time—he was here, and gladly so. He preferred working with iron rather than wood, but today, carpentry strangely held more appeal.
Time to get back to work. He guzzled the rest of his water and set the glass in the sink. “Danki.” As he turned to leave, something on the table caught his attention. The door knocker he’d made years ago for Dorcas—Rainbow Girl—ne, Dorcas, but now Rainbow Girl had it. They were the same person, but not the same. He crossed to the table and picked up his handiwork. “You kept this?”
She came up next to him. “Ja. I liked having a reminder of...”
“Of what?” Dare he hope him?
She stared at him. “Of...my life growing up here.”
That was probably a better answer. He didn’t need to be thinking of her as anything more than a lost Englisher.
She pointed to her computer on the table. “I found posts online about a few of your iron pieces you made that Englishers bought. They all praised your work.”
“I don’t care about such things.”
“You should. You could sell a lot more of your pieces with reviews like that, but I couldn’t find your website.”
“I don’t have one.” He’d hoped to be able to sell enough to make a living off his work. So far, he hadn’t and realized he would need a website, but he didn’t want to be beholden to her to get it. He wanted to be self-sufficient.
He needed to create more pieces, and now was a perfect time—with the lighter workload with Vater’s fields rented out.
Since his vater’s heart attack last summer, nine months ago, Eli had been entrusted with more responsibilities around the farm. Fortunately, his vater had decided to rent out the fields this year on the recommendation of the community’s new doctor, Dr. Kathleen. Eli could have handled running the farm himself with his younger brothers. It wouldn’t have been too much for him to manage, but Vater thought otherwise, scared after nearly dying.
Though Eli didn’t like witnessing Vater’s vulnerability, he secretly delighted in the lighter workload. This would give him an opportunity to design more original ironwork pieces in his blacksmith shop behind the barn. He’d consigned a few items in town but hoped to have enough creations to start his own business. Farming was gut and honorable work, but he liked making things with his hands, with hot metal and a hammer. He had ideas for new pieces he wanted to create.
If he could figure out how, this was his chance to get his business going. He knew it would take all the time he’d been afforded in lieu of planting and harvesting. He would need to learn all about selling on the internet, creating a website and proving to the church leaders—his vater being one of them—that his was a viable business worthy of internet access and use. He wouldn’t have another opportunity like this. If he didn’t make a go of this by the fall, he would need to give up his dream.
Rainbow Girl broke into his thoughts. “You need to have a website. You could sell a lot more of your work. Englishers love buying Amish-made stuff. A website can do that for you.”
Ja, he knew he needed a website in order to make money from the Englishers. “I plan to hire an Englisher to do that for me.” So much to do and learn to get started. A bit overwhelming.
“I can do it.”
“Ne. I’ll hire someone.” He couldn’t be beholden to her.
“That would be a waste of money. There are so many programs out there to help you build a site. And they’re easy to use.”
He could make his own site? Ne. “It would be better if I don’t fiddle in Englisher things and let an Englisher do them.”
“So you’re going to pay an Englisher to monitor your website after it’s built and tell you when you have orders? You aren’t going to make any money that way. You need to monitor your own site. I can build you a site and teach you how to maintain it.”
“Ne. I’ll hire an Englisher.” An Englisher who wasn’t her.
“But you can do this. You’ll pick it up fast. I know you will. You always were the smartest boy in class. If I could learn how to do it, then you can.”
She thought he was smart? He liked that. He wanted her to help him, but that wouldn’t be wise. He couldn’t let her do work for him. She wasn’t staying. Or at least she didn’t know if she was staying. How could she not know? She simply needed to make a choice. The right choice. He wouldn’t let her get under his skin to just have her leave again. “Ne. I need to get back to work.” He headed for the back door.
“Eli, wait.”
He turned and resisted the urge to cross over to her. To stand next to her. To stare at her.
She dug a ten-dollar bill from her backpack. “Here. I never had a chance to buy any food with this.” She held it out to him.
He waved it away. “Keep it.” He strode out the door. She probably needed it more than he did.
Once in the yard again, he picked up the shovel and jabbed it into the ground. The trench would stabilize the concrete blocks of the foundation. But what would stabilize him?
He wished he’d grabbed the pick. Swinging it would have been similar to the rhythm of swinging his hammer in his forge. An action that helped him think. An action that could replace thoughts of Rainbow Girl. Instead, he was stuck with her image drifting in the front of his mind.
Chapter Five (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)
Midafternoon, Dori sat in the shade of the front porch of the dawdy haus. Just about time for her younger siblings to return from school. Which ones were still school-age? John, the youngest at age ten, for sure attended school. Luke and Mark at eleven and thirteen would, as well. Sixteen-year-old Matthew had likely gone off to work with Vater
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/mary-davis/courting-her-prodigal-heart/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.