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
The Amish Widow’s New Love
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
The Amish Widow’s New Love
Liz Tolsma
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 HarperCollins Publishers 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.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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“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,
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
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
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Introduction
Dear Reader
Bible Verse
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Extract
About the Publisher
Chapter One
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.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.