Patricia Davids

An Unexpected Amish Romance


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in love to achieve that didn’t make sense. Why base one of the most important decisions a man could make on something as flimsy as a feeling? In his mind, it was much better to base it on mutual respect and shared goals than love.

      He and Angela had settled on a long-distance courtship while Mark apprenticed with his uncle. Mark sent her a portion of his paychecks each month as a down payment on the land.

      Little by little he had been accumulating the machinery and tools he would need and had them stored in his father’s barn not far from the Yoder farm. Isaac had put him in contact with people who were interested in purchasing Pennsylvania Amish–made furniture. Things were almost ready for him to open his business.

      He slipped his finger under the envelope flap and tore it open. He quickly skimmed through her short letter. It didn’t contain any of the usual news. Mark couldn’t believe his eyes. He read the note again. Angela wanted to end their engagement.

      For almost two years he had been working toward a goal that would provide them with a lifetime of security and now, two months before he was due to return home, she was tired of waiting for him?

      They had talked about this before he left, and she had assured him that two years would pass before they knew it. Angela agreed they had to stick to a plan if they were going to succeed. He read her words again. She was sorry, but she no longer wished to marry him.

      What was the plan now? What about the land? What about his partnership with her father? What about the money he’d sent? He had no idea where all of that stood. He crumpled the note into a ball and threw it toward the wastebasket in the corner. It bounced off the rim.

      The door opened, and Paul stuck his head in. “What did the fair Angela have to say? Did she send you a hug and kiss with an x and o ?”

      “My business is my own, Paul,” Mark snapped. He wasn’t ready to share this news, certainly not with Paul.

      “Hey, you look a little funny. Is something wrong?” Paul took a step into the room.

      “Your harassment is what’s wrong. I’m tired of your jabs.”

      Paul held up both hands. “Bruder, I never mean you harm. I hope you know that. Forgive me if I have offended you.”

      Mark rose from the bed. “Please forgive me also. I’m tired tonight, that’s all.”

      He took Paul by the shoulders and turned him to the door. “I need my sleep and so do you. We’ll have a hard day tomorrow.”

      “You might. I intend to have fun.”

      “When do you have anything else?” Mark gave him a friendly shove out into the hall and closed the door behind him. He bent to pick up the crumpled letter. Instead of throwing it into the trash, he smoothed it out. He had planned a future with her for so long that he wasn’t sure how to plan one without her.

      If she didn’t want to marry him, that was fine, but what about the land? All she said was that her feelings toward him had changed. How was that possible if they hadn’t seen each other? Although their intentions hadn’t been made public, he saw her request as a breach of contract. With a few strokes of her pen she upset his carefully thought-out plan and left him twirling in the wind like a new-fallen leaf.

      He needed to consider all the ramifications of what this meant. He didn’t have enough information. He sat down to write and ask for more details. Even if Angela’s father still intended to sell Mark the land, he now faced the distasteful task of finding another woman to marry. In his opinion, courting was a waste of a man’s time.

      Unbidden, the memory of the woman from the bus slipped into his mind. She was the perfect example of why he dreaded looking for a mate. All he had done was try to help. In the first instance, his words had sent her fleeing in tears. In the second, they had made her spitting mad, and he still had no idea why.

      Who was she? Why had she been crying? Abner had said she was going beyond Bowmans Crossing. The chances of seeing her again were slim.

      So why couldn’t he get her tear-stained face out of his head?

       Chapter Two

      Two days after arriving unannounced at her aunt’s home outside of Bowmans Crossing, Helen Zook sat in the buggy beside her aunt Charlotte wishing she had thought to plug her ears with cotton before leaving the house. The woman had been talking nonstop for the past two miles. Her basset hound had been barking loudly for almost as long.

      “Remember, Helen, as far as anyone knows, you are here to visit me for the summer. The less said about your unfortunate incident, the better. In fact, don’t say anything about it. Unless you are specifically asked, then you mustn’t lie. Liars never prosper.”

      “It’s cheaters.”

      “What did you say, Helen? Clyde, do be quiet.”

      “I said cheaters never prosper.”

      “Of course they don’t. I’m sure you have never cheated anyone. I know I haven’t. The truth is the best defense, Helen, but there’s no point in telling people everything. Bowmans Crossing is a wonderful community, but there are those among us who like to spread gossip. I shouldn’t name names, but Verna Yoder and Ina Fisher are the worst offenders. Clyde, get down, can’t you see I’m driving?”

      Charlotte gently pushed aside the overweight brown-and-white hound dog trying to climb onto her lap. Helen took him by the collar and tugged him back to the floor. He gave her a mournful look before settling all seventy pounds of his wrinkles and flab on her left foot. Gritting her teeth, Helen tried to move him, but he refused to budge another inch.

      Charlotte slowed the horse as the buggy rounded the curve beside the district’s one-room school. The playground and swings were empty now. The students were home for the summer, but Helen couldn’t go home.

      “Are you paying attention to me, dear? I feel as if I’m talking to myself.”

      Helen freed her foot, but her shoe remained under Clyde’s slobbery chin. “I’m paying attention, Aenti Charlotte. I’m visiting for the summer. Don’t mention that my fiancé humiliated me in front of all our family and friends when he threw me over because he wanted to marry my sister one week before the banns for our wedding were to be announced. Bowmans Crossing is wonderful, except for the gossiping pair Ina Fisher and Verna Yoder. Cheaters never prosper, but they can get married and live happily ever after, but I don’t have to watch them moon over each other. How could my own sister do this to me? How could Joseph?”

      Helen didn’t share the part she had played in the disaster. Why should she? She was the one suffering now.

      It was all so horrible. She might have been able to bear the pitying looks and well-meaning comments that only served as salt in the wound. The real thing she couldn’t tolerate was seeing how happy they were together.

      “You girls will make up, and this will all be forgotten in time.”

      “I don’t see how. She stole the man I wanted to marry.” Helen’s voice crackled.

      Joe should have stood by her. If he loved her, he would have. Helen raised her chin. It was painful, but it was better to know how shallow his affections had been before they wed.

      “You must not look at what you have lost for it is not your will that is important. It is His will.”

      “His will was to marry my sister, and he did just that.”

      Charlotte cast Helen a sidelong glance. “I’m not talking about that young man’s will. It is Gott’s will you must accept. You must forgive your sister and her husband as is right.”

      “I forgive them.” Helen spoke the words, but they didn’t echo in her heart. The pain was too new and too raw.

      “That is goot. Forgiving blesses the forgiver as much as the forgiven.” Charlotte clicked her