He came back home...but will he stay?

A Colorado Amish Courtships novel

When Lizzie Beiler’s fiancé cast her and his Amish faith aside to pursue an Englisch education, she vowed never to marry. Now he’s back and helping on her father’s farm. And though Lizzie’s unsure she can ever forgive him, she finds their love still lingers. But is Eli finally ready to build a familye with Lizzie...or will he return to his Englisch life?

LEIGH BALE is a Publishers Weekly bestselling author. She is the winner of the prestigious Golden Heart® Award and is a finalist for the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and the Booksellers’ Best Award. The daughter of a retired US forest ranger, she holds a BA in history. Married in 1981 to the love of her life, Leigh and her professor husband have two children and two grandkids. You can reach her at leighbale.com.

Also By Leigh Bale

Colorado Amish Courtships

Runaway Amish Bride

His Amish Choice

Men of Wildfire

Her Firefighter Hero

Wildfire Sweethearts

Reunited by a Secret Child

The Road to Forgiveness

The Forest Ranger’s Promise

The Forest Ranger’s Husband

The Forest Ranger’s Child

Falling for the Forest Ranger

Healing the Forest Ranger

The Forest Ranger’s Return

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

His Amish Choice

Leigh Bale

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08637-0

HIS AMISH CHOICE

© 2018 Lora Lee Bale

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“I’m here to stay, Lizzie-bee,” Eli said.

“Don’t call me that.” Lizzie’s lips pursed with disapproval and tears shimmered in her eyes.

Lizzie-bee.

He held perfectly still, wishing he hadn’t used his pet name for her. It had slipped out. How he wished he could go back in time and mend the rift between them. That they could be friends again.

“You are welcome here on our farm, Eli Stoltzfus, but don’t expect anything else. I don’t trust you anymore and that’s that.” She whirled around and headed toward the house, plodding over the wide furrows of alfalfa with singular purpose.

I don’t trust you anymore.

Her words rang in his ears like the tolling of a bell. He watched her go, his heart plummeting. More than anything, he longed for a friend to confide in. But it obviously wouldn’t be Lizzie. Not only had he lost her friendship, but he’d also lost her confidence and there was no going back.

Dear Reader,

Have you ever loved someone so much that their happiness was more important than your own? In His Amish Choice, Lizzie is angry and hurt when Eli abandons her and their Amish faith so he can receive an education in the Englisch world. But when she realizes that anger is not of the Lord, she softens her heart and is finally able to let go of the anguish and sorrow that has been troubling her for several years. She is then able to recognize that she loves Eli so much that she is willing to let him go, if that is what he wants. No longer are her own feelings and desires of utmost importance, but rather she has learned to put Eli and his needs above her own.

I know that, as we come to accept God’s will in our own lives, to soften our hearts in prayer, and to follow the Savior’s example, we can find peace and joy no matter what hardships we might face.

I hope you enjoy reading this story and I invite you to visit my website at www.LeighBale.com to learn more about my books.

May you find peace in the Lord’s words!

Leigh Bale

The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.

—Romans 8:16

Thank you to Janet Pulleyn for infecting me with the soap-making bug. I have had a blast learning and consulting with you on new colors and fragrances. And thanks to Paul for letting me invade your home on more than one occasion. You are dear friends. Now, where shall we go out to dinner next time?

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

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

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Elizabeth Beiler set her last crate of honeycrisp apples into the back of the buggy-wagon and took a deep breath. Picking the fruit was hard work but she could never get enough of its fresh, earthy-sweet smell.

Brushing the dust off her rose-colored skirts and black apron, she adjusted the blue kerchief tied beneath her chin. Because she was working outside, she’d left her white organza kapp at home. She arched her back, her gaze scanning the rows of apple trees.

Finally, they were finished. Not that Lizzie begrudged the work. It brought her a sense of accomplishment and security. She was just tired and feeling jittery with Eli Stoltzfus’s constant presence.

At that moment, he emerged from the orchard, carrying two heavy crates of fruit in his strong arms. His blue chambray shirt stretched taut across his muscular chest and arms. His plain broadfall trousers and work boots had dust on them. Wearing a straw hat and black suspenders, he looked unmistakably Amish. His clean-shaven face attested that he was unmarried. Lizzie was dying to ask if he’d had any girlfriends during the four years he’d been living among the Englisch, but kept her questions to herself. It wasn’t her business after all. Not anymore.

His high cheekbones and blunt chin gave him a slightly stubborn look. With hair black as a raven’s wing and gentle brown eyes, he was ruggedly handsome. Not that Lizzie also was interested. Not in this man. Not ever again.

As he approached, she turned away, conscious of his quiet gaze following her. She often found him watching her, his intelligent eyes warning that there was an active, gifted mind hidden beneath his calm exterior.

“Come on, Marty and Annie. It’s time to go home,” she called to her two sisters in Deitsch, the German dialect her Amish people used among themselves.

The girls came running, the long ribbons on their prayer kapps dangling in the wind. At the ages of ten and seven, neither girl was big or strong, but they were sturdy and a tremendous help on the farm. Their happy chatter also alleviated Daed’s quiet moods. He hadn’t been the same since Mamm died almost five years earlier. The union of Lizzie’s parents had been one of love. The perfect kind of marriage she had once dreamed of having with Eli.

“What are we having for nachtesse?” seven-year-old Annie asked, slightly breathless from her run.

“Ja, I’m starved.” Marty was right behind her, biting into a crisp, juicy apple from the orchard.

“I’m going to make slumgullion,” Lizzie said, thinking the meat and pasta dish was easy to make and very filling. “And we’ve also got leftover apple crisp from yesterday.”

She was conscious of Eli adjusting the crates of apples in the back of their buggy-wagon, no doubt listening to their conversation. He must be ravenous too, but he would eat at home with his parents.

“Yum! I’m so hungry I could eat Billie.” Annie leaned toward the bay gelding and made gobbling sounds. The gentle animal snorted and waved his head. Everyone except Marty laughed.

“You couldn’t eat Billie. He’s a horse. Don’t be dumm,” Marty said.

“No calling names, please. Be nice to your sister,” Lizzie reprimanded in a kind voice. “As soon as Daed gets here, we’ll go home.”

They didn’t have long to wait. Jeremiah Beiler emerged from the orchard, walking with their Englisch truck driver. Daed’s straw hat was pushed back on his head. Sweat-dampened tendrils of salt-and-pepper hair stuck to his high forehead. Dressed almost identically to Eli, Daed’s long beard was a light reddish shade with no moustache, signifying that he was a married man, now a widower.

The truck driver nodded, said something Lizzie couldn’t hear, then climbed into the cab of his tractor trailer and started up the noisy engine. A rush of relief swept over her. The back of the 18-wheeler was loaded with crates of apples from their orchard and the driver would deliver them safely to the processing plant in Longmont. Their harvest was secure.

Because of Eli.

As the truck pulled away, Daed turned and smiled at them, but frowned when his gaze met Eli’s. Lizzie knew her father didn’t approve of Eli. He feared the younger man’s worldly influence on his children and had hired him only at the bishop’s urging.

“You all did gut work,” Jeremiah said.

Eli gave a slight nod, then went to hitch his horse to his buggy. Lizzie watched him for a moment. Out of the blue, he had returned just over three weeks ago, asking to be reinstated in the Gmay, their Amish community.

If he had been a full member of the church before his decision to live among the Englisch, his choice to leave them would have been seen as a breaking of his faith and he would have been shunned. But because he’d never been baptized into their faith, he’d been welcomed back with open arms, no questions asked. Just a blind acceptance that he really wanted to be here. But Lizzie wasn’t convinced. Eli had broken her heart. Leaving her the day before they were to be baptized together.

When they’d been only fourteen, he’d proposed marriage and she’d accepted. But long before then, he’d whispered about attending college to learn more about science and biology. Their eighth-grade education had never been enough for Eli, yet she had thought he’d made peace with the life they had. The life they’d intended to share. Lizzie hadn’t believed he’d really leave. At least not without saying goodbye.

Annie and Marty beamed at their father’s praise. They all felt a great weight lifted from their shoulders. The warm weather was an illusion. When they’d first settled in Colorado eight years earlier, they hadn’t realized the growing season was much shorter than their previous home in Ohio. A killing frost could strike at any time. With their apples picked, they could now turn their efforts to other pressing matters.

To the south, the alfalfa was ready for cutting. The last of the season. They would store the hay in their barn to feed their own livestock through the long winter. Daed would mow it tomorrow. The weather should hold long enough for the hay to dry, then Lizzie would assist with the baling. Between now and then, she planned to bottle applesauce. They no longer needed Eli’s help and she wouldn’t have to see him every day. Though it wasn’t charitable of her, she counted that as a blessing.

“Komm, my girls. Let’s go,” Daed called.

Annie giggled as her father swung her into the buggy. Marty scrambled inside with Lizzie. Daed gathered the leather leads into his hands and slapped them against Billie’s back, giving a stiff nod of parting to Eli.

“Sehn dich schpeeder,” Eli called as he lifted one hand.

See you later? Lizzie hoped not, then felt guilty for being mean-spirited. The little girls waved goodbye, but not Lizzie. It still hurt her deeply to think that Eli had loved worldly pursuits more than he’d loved their faith and Gott. More than he’d loved her.

“Heemet!” Daed called.

Home! With a cozy barn and hay awaiting him, Billie had plenty of incentive to take off at a brisk walk. The buggy-wagon wobbled as they traveled along the narrow dirt road leading out of the orchard.

Glancing over her shoulder, Lizzie noticed that Eli had his horse hitched up to his buggy and wasn’t far behind them.

When they reached the paved county road, Daed pulled the horse up and looked both ways. A couple of cars whizzed past, spraying them through their open windows with a fine mist of grit. Once it was clear, he proceeded forward, setting the horse into a comfortable trot along the far-right shoulder. Within minutes, they would be home. Marty and Annie leaned against Lizzie and yawned. The gentle rocking of the buggy and the rhythmic beat of hooves lulled Lizzie to close her eyes.

She awoke with a start as the buggy-wagon jerked forward. A sickening crash filled her ears. Apples went flying, peppering the road. Lizzie reached for Marty, but found herself airborne. Bloodcurdling screams split the air. The hard ground slammed up to meet her. Pain burst through her entire body, a lance of agony spearing her head. She cried out, then choked, the air knocked from her lungs. Her brain was spinning, her limbs frozen with stinging shock. One thought filled her mind. Her familye! She had to help them.

Lifting her head, she stared at the remnants of the wood and fiberglass buggy-wagon, strewn across the county road. The fluorescent slow-moving-vehicle symbol that had been affixed to the back of their wagon now lay broken beside her. In a glance, she saw a blue sedan parked nearby, the right front fender smashed in. She blinked as a teenage boy got out of the car, his eyes wide with panic. In his hand, he held his cell phone. Had he been texting while driving?

Lying below Lizzie in the ditch, Billie snorted and thrashed in his harness. Giving a shrill whinny, the horse lunged to his feet, the laces hanging limp from his back. The poor beast. At least he didn’t appear to have a broken leg.

Lizzie wiped moisture from her forehead, then gasped when she discovered it was blood. She scanned the road, looking for Daed and her sisters. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see any of them. Her vision swam before her. She couldn’t focus. Falling back, she lay there for a moment, trying to fight off the woozy darkness, but despite her best efforts, it crowded in on her.

When she came to, Lizzie realized she must have fainted. She had no idea how long she’d been out. A rush of memory made her jerk upright, then cry out with anguish. Her entire body hurt, a searing pain in her head. She must get up. Must find her father, Annie and Marty.

“Schtopp! Just rest.” A soft, masculine voice came from above her.

Blinking her eyes, she saw Eli kneeling over her. In a glance, she took in his somber expression filled with concern. He must have come upon them right after the crash.

“Vie gehts?” he asked in a soothing tone roughened by emotion.

“Ja, I’m fine. Marty and Annie. Daed. Help them,” she said.

“They’re all alive. The Englischer has called for help on his cell phone. An ambulance is coming from the hospital in town,” he said.

“Where...where is my familye?” She sat up slowly to look for them, her head whirling from another dizzy spell.

“I didn’t want the girls to see you until I was certain you were all right. They’re very frightened as it is. I’ll bring them to you now.” He stood, looked both ways, then hurried across the road.

He soon returned, holding the hands of her sisters as he crossed the busy road. He hesitated as a car and truck whipped past, swerving to avoid the debris scattered across the asphalt. One of the vehicles stopped and asked if they needed help. The Englisch boy went to speak with the driver.

“Lizzie!” Annie cried.

Both little girls fell into her arms, sobbing and hugging her tight. Cupping their faces with her hands, she looked them over, kissing their scratched cheeks, assuring herself that they were safe. Their faces and arms were covered with abrasions, their dresses soiled, but they otherwise seemed fine.

“There, my liebchen. All will be well,” Lizzie soothed the girls for a moment. Then, she looked at Eli. “But where is my vadder?”

“He cannot be moved just now. He has a serious compound fracture to his lower left leg. I believe his tibia is all that is broken. I have splinted the leg and stopped the bleeding, then wrapped him in a warm blanket I had in my buggy.”

A broken leg! But how did Eli know what to do? A blaze of panic scorched her. They’d already lost Mamm. What would they do if they lost Daed too?

“I must go to him.” She tried to stand.

“Ne, just sit still a moment. There’s too much traffic on the road and you are also hurt. I believe you have a concussion.” Eli held out a hand to stop her.

Lizzie recoiled, fearing he might touch her. How could he know she had a concussion? He wasn’t a doctor. Or was he? She no longer knew much about this man. Was four years long enough for him to go to medical school? She had no knowledge of such things.

She reached up and touched her forehead. A wave of nausea forced her to sit back. When she drew away her hand, fresh blood stained her fingers. No wonder a horrible pain throbbed behind her eyes and her brain felt foggy. Maybe Eli was right.

“May I...may I wrap a cloth around your head? It’s important that we stop the bleeding. I’ve already done all I can for Jeremiah,” Eli said, his voice tentative.

“Ja,” she consented, giving in to common sense.

She sat perfectly still as he removed her blood-soaked kerchief. Her waist-length hair had come undone from the bun at the nape of her neck and she felt embarrassed to have him see its length. It was something special she was keeping for her husband on their wedding night. Thankfully, he politely averted his gaze as he opened the first aid kit.

“Where did that come from?” She pointed at the box.

He answered without looking up. “My buggy.”

“How do you know so much about medical care?”

He shrugged, his gaze briefly meeting hers. “I went through the training and am a certified paramedic. I’m specially trained to help in critical situations like this.”

So, he wasn’t a doctor, but he might as well be. Although she’d heard about Amish paramedics and firefighters working back east in Lancaster County and Pennsylvania, she’d never met one before and was fairly certain her church elders wouldn’t approve. Higher learning was shunned by her people because it often led to Hochmut, the pride of men.

“Is...is that what you’ve been doing among the Englisch?” she asked.

He nodded. “Ja, it’s how I earned my living.”

So now she knew. He must have worked hard in school to learn such a skill. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to know things, but neither did she approve of him casting aside his faith for such worldly pursuits.

Eli cleansed her wound with an antiseptic towelette. His touch was warm and gentle as he wrapped her head with soft, white gauze.

“You will need three or four stitches in the gash.” He gave her a soulful look, as if he could see deep inside her heart and knew all the hurt and longings she kept hidden there.

She looked away.

Sirens heralded the arrival of two ambulances and some police cars. Lizzie lost track of time as the officers set up a roadblock with flares and took their statements. She watched Eli untangle the harness and lead Billie out of the ditch. Speaking to the distressed horse in a low murmur, he smoothed his hands over the animal’s trembling legs. He then salvaged the bruised apples and put the filled crates into his own buggy.

When the medics loaded them into the two ambulances, Annie leaned close against Lizzie’s side, her eyes red from crying. “Is Daedi going to be all right?”

Lizzie reached over and took the child’s hand. “The Lord’s will be done, boppli. We must trust in Him to get us through.”

As she spoke these words, she tried to believe them. If Daed died, could she forgive the boy who had caused the accident? Christ had forgiven all and she must do likewise, but she wasn’t sure her faith was that strong.

“I’ll look after Billie.” Eli stood at the foot of the ambulance, holding the lead lines to the horse’s halter. His expressive eyes were filled with a haunting unease, as though he were anxious to leave.

“Danke.” Lizzie gave a brisk nod.

He stepped back and the medics closed the double doors. Lizzie laid her head back and closed her eyes. And in her heart, she carried a silent prayer that they would be all right.

* * *

The following day, Eli tugged on the leather leads as he veered Jeremiah Beiler’s three draft horses slightly to the left. The big Percherons did as he asked, plodding steadily down the row of alfalfa as they pulled the hay mower. The low rumble of the gas-powered engine filled the air. Eli glanced at the position of the sun, unable to believe it was afternoon already. Another hour and he would finish this chore. Jeremiah’s hay would be secure. It would take a few more days for the hay to dry, and then he would gather it into bales.

“Gee!” he called, turning the team to the right.

A movement brought his eye toward the red log house where Lizzie and her familye lived. Turning slightly, he saw her and two men heading toward him, stepping high as they crossed the rutted field. Even from this distance, Eli recognized the slant of Bishop Yoder’s black felt hat. His companion was Darrin Albrecht, the deacon of their congregation. Both men were dressed identically in black frock coats and broadfall pants. Eli had gotten word of the Beilers’ accident to the bishop late last night. No doubt the elders had come to check on Jeremiah’s familye.

Lizzie accompanied them, wearing a blue dress and crisp black apron. As they drew near, Eli saw a fresh gauze bandage had been taped to her forehead, no doubt hiding several stitches from her visit to the hospital. She and the little girls must have just gotten home. He’d seen the Englisch midwife’s car pull in the driveway an hour earlier. She must have given them a ride from town.

Sunlight glinted against Lizzie’s golden hair, the length of it pinned into a bun beneath her starched prayer kapp. One rebellious strand framed her delicate oval face and she quickly tucked it back behind her ear. Her blue eyes flashed with unease, her stern expression and brisk stride belying her injuries. Eli was eager to hear how she was feeling and also receive news of her father’s condition.

Pulling the giant horses to a standstill, he killed the engine and hopped down off his seat. As he walked the short distance to meet them, he rolled his long sleeves down his forearms.

“Hallo,” he called.

He glanced at Lizzie, trying to assess her mood. Their gazes clashed, then locked for several moments. As always, he blinked at the startling blue of her eyes. Her expression showed a fierce emotion he didn’t understand. A mingling of repugnance and determination.

“Guder nummidaag,” Bishop Yoder said.

“It looks like you’ve been busy today.” Deacon Albrecht surveyed the cut field, as though evaluating the quality of Eli’s work.

After being gone four years, Eli was surprised at how easily farming came back to him. It felt good to work the land again. It felt good to be needed. Holding the lead lines in his hands as the powerful horses pulled the mower had given him a sense of purpose he hadn’t felt since Shannon’s death seven months earlier.

Thinking of his sweet fiancée made his heart squeeze painfully and a gloomy emptiness filled his chest.

“You have done gut work for the Beilers,” Bishop Yoder said. “They will need the strength of a man on this place for a few more months, until Jeremiah is back on his feet. He will have surgery today and will be in the hospital awhile longer, until the swelling goes down so they can cast the leg.”

Eli nodded, wondering what the bishop was getting at.

Bishop Yoder placed his hand on Eli’s shoulder, his gray eyes filled with kindness, but also an intensity that couldn’t be ignored. “I’ve spoken with your father. He agrees that you should work here for the time being, caring for Jeremiah’s farm as if it were your own. But with this request comes a great responsibility and commitment to your faith. I know you have told me you are recommitted to Gott. Are you certain our way of life is what you want?”

Eli hesitated. With Shannon gone and his confidence shattered, he had needed to get away from Denver and all the reminders of her death. Here in Riverton, he hoped to find the peace he so desperately longed for and a way to forgive himself for what had happened.

His heart still felt unsure, but he was determined to stay the course and wait for certainty to come. He couldn’t go back, so he’d have to find a way for himself here.

“I am.” Eli nodded, his throat dry as sandpaper. Speaking the words out loud helped solidify his commitment.

“I just spoke with your mudder. She is inside the house, almost finished bottling applesauce for Lizzie,” the bishop said.

Eli nodded, forcing himself to meet the man’s gaze. “Ja, and my vadder was here earlier this morning, helping with the milking.”

“You all have been most kind.” Lizzie stared at the ground, her words low and uncertain.

Eli felt a wave of compassion. “It’s our pleasure to help. You would do the same for us.”

Or at least, he hoped she would. Her manner was so offish toward him that he wasn’t sure. When he’d left four years earlier, he’d written to her often, at first. Not once had she replied. That alone told him she wanted nothing to do with him. After a year and a half of trying, he’d finally moved on with his life, meeting and falling in love with Shannon.

“Gut,” the bishop continued. “Tomorrow at church, I will announce your plans to be baptized, so you can participate in the instruction classes again. They’ve already begun, but since you took them once before, I think we can catch you up. Then you’ll be prepared for your baptism in a few months.”

Lizzie looked at him and a rush of doubt speared Eli’s chest. The last time he’d attended the classes, he’d been a rebellious kid and hadn’t paid much attention. In those days, all he could think about was getting out of here. Was he ready for such a commitment now? Once he was baptized, there would be no turning back. But he had the next few months to decide.

“I’m happy to assist the Beilers,” he said.

A sudden hesitation struck him. A quick glance in Lizzie’s direction told him that she didn’t want him here. Her expression held a heavy dose of disapproval. As if she thought he was tainted now, because he’d been living among the Englisch.

He’d loved her so much when they were teenagers, but he’d had to leave. Had to find out what the world could offer. He’d desperately wanted a rumspringa—that rite of passage during adolescence when Amish teenagers experienced freedom of choice without the rules of the Ordnung to hold them back. But he’d never meant to hurt Lizzie. In fact, he’d tried to get her to come join him. If only she had responded to his letters. Instead, each one had been returned unopened.

The bishop smiled. “Ach, we’ll see you tomorrow then. Willkomm back, my brother.”

Eli nodded, but didn’t speak. A hard lump had lodged in his throat. He felt grateful to be here, but the reasons for the gratitude were murky. Was he truly glad to be back among his people, or was he just relieved to be away from reminders of Shannon? He’d talked to other paramedics who had lost a patient in their care, but it hadn’t prepared him for the shock. And to make matters worse, the first patient he’d lost had been someone he dearly loved. Someone who was counting on him to keep her safe. And he’d failed miserably. That’s when he realized how much he missed his familye. Seeking respite from the world, he’d come home. But thus far, peace of mind had continued to elude him.

Reaching up, he tugged on the brim of his straw hat where a letter from Tom Caldwell was safely tucked away. Tom had been Eli’s former boss at the hospital in Denver. His letter was a silent reminder of the Englisch life Eli had left behind. And though it felt good to be back in Riverton, whenever Eli thought of never being a paramedic again, a sick feeling settled in his gut.

“If you have faith, all will be well with your familye. Never forget that,” the bishop spoke kindly to Lizzie.

“Ja. Danke, Bishop,” Lizzie said, her voice holding a note of respect.

The church elders walked away, leaving Eli and Lizzie alone. A horrible, swelling silence followed. Lizzie looked at the ground, looked at the mountains surrounding the valley, looked anywhere but at Eli.

“You are truly all right?” Eli finally asked, peering at Lizzie’s forehead.

“Ja, I’m fine,” she said, briefly touching the bandage as if it embarrassed her.

“I didn’t expect this.” He gestured toward the retreating men.

“Neither did I.” Her voice wobbled.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me working here?” he asked.

She glanced at him. “I don’t have much choice.”

True. With her daed in the hospital and the bishop’s stamp of approval, she would have to accept Eli’s aid.

“I never meant to hurt you, Lizzie. I know I left rather suddenly,” he said.

She snorted and stepped back in exasperation. “Ja, you sure did.”

“I know I should have spoken to you about it first, but I feared you might tell my eldre or the bishop and they would have tried to make me stay.”

“Ach, so you ran away. You took the coward’s route and fled.”

He stared in confusion. He’d been gone four years. Why was Lizzie still so angry at him?

“We were only fourteen when I first proposed to you,” he said. “I’m sure you agree that was way too young for marriage. When I left, neither of us was ready to start a familye. If only you had come and joined me.”

“To Denver?” she asked with incredulity.

He nodded.

“Ne, I would never leave my people. You knew that.”

“But I had to go. I wanted a rumspringa.”

“So, nothing has changed. You still seek the world.” Her voice sounded bitter.

He snorted, feeling frustrated, but unwilling to explain about Shannon and all that he had recently lost. “Believe me, a lot has changed. I’m not the same person anymore.”

“And neither am I, Eli. You’re homesick for your familye, that’s all. But before long, you’ll get homesick for the world out there that you left behind. We don’t drive cars, use electricity, or swim the inner net. You’ll get tired of us and leave again.”

Swim the inner net?

He tilted his head in confusion, wondering what she meant. Then, he chuckled as he understood her words. “I think you mean surf the internet.”

She shrugged, her voice thick with conviction. “Whatever. We don’t do that. Pretty soon, you’ll become weary of our quaint, boring ways and leave again.”

Oh, that hurt. More than he could say. Never had he considered his Amish people to be quaint or boring. In fact, quite the opposite. The science of farming tantalized his intellect. The hard work and life here was definitely far from mundane. It was always a challenge to fight the weather, improve their machinery and produce a better crop...especially in Colorado. He also loved the solitude of fertile fields and the camaraderie of belonging to the Gmay. He always had.

“Ne, I’m here to stay, Lizzie-bee.” But his words lacked the conviction hers had held. After all, his memories of Shannon were in Denver. When she’d died, he’d wanted to leave, but now he missed going to their old haunts where they’d fallen in love. He missed her.

“Don’t call me that.” Her lips pursed with disapproval and tears shimmered in her eyes.

Lizzie-bee.

He held perfectly still, wishing he hadn’t used his old pet name for her. It had slipped out. How he wished he could go back in time and mend the rift between them. That they could be friends again. He could use the comfort of a good friend to help him deal with his broken heart, still full of love for Shannon.

“For the help you will give, you are welcome here on our farm, Eli Stoltzfus, but don’t expect anything else. I don’t trust you anymore and that’s that.” She whirled around and headed toward the house, plodding over the wide furrows of alfalfa with singular purpose.

I don’t trust you anymore.

Her words rang in his ears like the tolling of a bell. He watched her go, his heart plummeting. More than anything, he longed for a friend to confide in. Someone to talk with about Shannon and his loss. But it obviously wouldn’t be Lizzie. Not only had he lost her friendship, but he’d also lost her confidence and there was no going back.

Chapter Two

“I like Eli. He’s so nice,” Annie said later that night.

Lizzie jerked, her fingers losing their grasp on the tiny rubber band she was using to tie off the end of Annie’s braided hair.

The little girls had both had their baths and Lizzie was finishing their hair before going to bed. Each child sat on the wooden bench in the kitchen, the gas lamp above the table shining down upon their heads. Their bare feet peeked out from beneath the hems of their simple flannel nightgowns. The air carried a slight fruity smell from the detangler she’d used on their hair to get the snarls out.

“Eli is nice, but you can’t like him,” Marty said. She tugged the comb through a particularly stubborn knot in her own damp hair.

“Why not?” Annie asked, her forehead crinkled in a frown.

“Because he hurt Lizzie’s feelings, that’s why.”

Both girls turned and looked at Lizzie, as if waiting for a confirmation.

“Of course you can like him.” Lizzie laughed it off, not wanting to explain how much she’d loved the man and how he’d broken her heart. Everyone in the Gmay had known they’d been going together and planned to marry one day.

“We can? You’re okay with it?” Marty asked.

“Ja, it’s not our place to judge,” Lizzie reiterated, trying to believe her own words.

“But you were gonna get married to him. Emily Hostetler said he left you to become an Englischer instead,” Marty said.

“You were gonna marry Eli?” Annie asked.

Lizzie inhaled a sharp breath and held it for several moments before letting it go. Hearing Eli’s betrayal put so bluntly made her mind scatter and she had to regather her thoughts before responding. As he had pointed out, they’d only been fourteen when he’d proposed. Way too young to marry. Because they’d been so young, he hadn’t taken it seriously, but Lizzie had. When he left, they were seventeen and she’d thought they would wed the following year. It’s what they had talked about. But he’d obviously changed his mind—and hadn’t felt the need to tell her.

“That was a long time ago. It was Eli’s choice to leave. When the time comes, we each must make that decision for ourselves, but I dearly hope both of you will stay.” She placed Annie’s kapp on her head, then hugged the girl tight.

“I’ll never leave,” Marty said.

When Lizzie released her, Annie stood, her inquisitive gaze resting on Lizzie. “Is that true, Lizzie-bee? Eli really left you to become Englisch?”

Lizzie-bee. The nickname Eli had given her when she’d been barely thirteen years old because he thought she was always as busy as a bee. Back then, Lizzie had loved Eli to call her that name. Now, it was a reminder of all that she’d lost.

“Where did you hear that name?” Lizzie asked a bit too brusquely.

“It’s what Eli called you when he came into the house to take Fannie home after she bottled our applesauce. You were upstairs,” Annie said.

Fannie was Eli’s mother and a dear friend. She was as generous as the day was long. It had hurt her deeply when Eli left.

Lizzie sat very still, looking at her two sisters. Marty had been six when Eli had left, so she undoubtedly remembered him. Annie had been only three. Lizzie didn’t want to discuss what had happened, but neither would she lie. Nor did she have a right to speak ill of Eli.

“Is it true?” the girl persisted.

“Ja, it’s true,” she said, tucking an errant strand of hair beneath Annie’s kapp.

The child’s eyes crinkled with sadness. “But everyone loves you. Why would Eli leave?”

She said the words as if she couldn’t understand why Eli couldn’t love her too.

“He...he wanted other things, that’s all,” Lizzie said.

“Did he hurt your feelings when he left?” Annie persisted.

“Of course he did.” Marty flipped her long hair over her shoulder.

“Ja, he did,” Lizzie admitted. She didn’t look at the girls as she parted Marty’s tresses and quickly began to braid the lengthy strands. Perhaps it was good for her sisters to learn early that a man could break your heart.

“But he’s back now. You don’t need to have hurt feelings anymore. You can forgive him and all will be well. Maybe he’ll even want to still marry you now,” Annie said.

If only it were that simple. Right now, Lizzie didn’t want to marry Eli. And she certainly couldn’t believe Eli wanted to marry her—not after the way he’d abandoned her. But sweet little Annie had always had such a calm, quiet spirit. Honest and trusting, the girl always exemplified a childlike faith in the good of others. Lizzie never wanted to see that faith shattered. But more than that, Lizzie had to set a good example for her sisters. With Mamm gone, they deserved to feel safe and loved. They were both looking to her for guidance and she didn’t want to let them down.

“The Lord wants us to forgive everyone. We should never judge others, because we don’t know what’s truly in their heart or what their circumstances are. Plus we each have our own faults to repent from,” Lizzie spoke in a measured tone, believing what she said, though she still struggled to apply it to Eli.

Annie nudged Marty with her elbow. “See? I told ya so.”

Marty accepted this without question and Lizzie breathed with relief. She quickly finished her chore. Upstairs, she tucked the girls into bed, feeling like a hypocrite. She told her sisters to forgive, yet she hadn’t done so herself. But honestly, she didn’t know how. Saying and doing it were two different things. Forgiveness wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Especially when she’d been hurt so badly.

She secured the house for the night and turned out the kerosene lights. Alone in her room, she prayed for help, but received no answers. Lying in the darkness, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her mind kept racing. If Eli hadn’t left, they’d likely be married now. They would probably have one or two children too. How different their lives might have been. They could have been happy and in love and working for the good of their familye. Instead, she felt disillusioned and distrustful. But it did no good to dwell on such things. It would not change the present. Her familye needed her and that was enough.

Punching her pillow, she turned on her side and closed her eyes, gritty with fatigue. She tried to rest, but it was a long time coming.

In the morning, she felt drowsy and grouchy. Determined not to be cross with the girls, she kissed each one on the forehead to wake them up. She ensured they were dressed and sitting at the table eating a bowl of scrapple—a mixture of corn meal, sausage and eggs—before she lit the kerosene lamp and stepped out onto the back porch.

Crisp darkness filled the air as she crossed the yard. The chilling breeze hinted that winter was not far away. In the waning shadows, she tossed grain to the chickens, then gathered the eggs into a wire basket. When she went to feed the pigs, she found the chore already done, the trough filled with fresh water.

Oh, no. This could only mean one thing.

Turning, she went to the barn. A faint light gleamed from beneath the double doors as she stepped inside. A lamp sat on the railing of Ginger’s stall. The chestnut palomino was old, but Daed still used her to pull the buggy when Billie was lame. Thinking Billie needed a few more days of rest, Lizzie planned to use Ginger today, to get to church. It was too bad they’d lost their larger buggy-wagon in the accident. Now, they’d have to use their older, smaller buggy.

“Easy, girl.” Eli stood bent over the mare’s left back hoof. He wore a plain white shirt and black suspenders, his nice Sunday frock jacket hanging on a peg nearby.

Releasing the animal’s leg, he patted her rump as he stood up straight. Then, he flinched. “Lizzie-bee! You startled me.”

She bit her tongue, forcing herself not to reprimand him. It would do no good. The name Lizzie-bee was too embedded in their past history.

“I came to feed the animals. I didn’t expect you to be here today,” she said.

He shrugged. “I figured you would still need help even on the Sabbath.”

Leading Ginger out of her stall, he directed the mare over to the buggy. Glancing at the other stalls, Lizzie saw that Eli had already fed Billie and Daed’s six Percheron draft horses. And judging from the two tall canisters sitting near the door, he’d already done the milking too. It appeared he was taking his promise to the bishop very seriously.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, feeling obligated to use good manners.

“Ja, my mudder fixed a big meal for Daed and me. I’ll have the horse hitched up in just a few minutes, then I’ll drive you to church,” he said.

He didn’t look at her while he put the collar on the horse. Ginger stood perfectly still, knowing this routine by heart.

“That won’t be necessary. You’re very kind, but I can drive the maed myself,” Lizzie said.

He paused, holding the saddle lacings in his big hands. “I...I don’t think that’s a good idea. You were nearly killed just a few days ago and I...I assured the bishop that I’d look after all of you.”

His voice caught on the words and he turned away, but not before Lizzie saw his trembling hands. Or had she imagined that? Why did he seem so upset by the accident?

“Ne, you told him you’d look after the farm. That’s not the same as driving us to church,” she said.

He nodded, accepting her logic. “Still, I feel responsible for you. I don’t want to have to tell Jeremiah that I was derelict in my duty.”

Hmm. Maybe he was right. The horror of the accident came rushing back and she realized she wasn’t eager to climb into a buggy again. If her fear distracted her while she was driving, it could put her sisters in danger. Perhaps it would be better to let Eli drive them for a time. But she hated feeling like a burden almost as much as she hated to depend on him.

“You needn’t feel obligated. I’ve driven a buggy many times before,” she argued half-heartedly.

“I know that. You’re a capable, strong-minded woman, but I’d feel better if you’d let me drive today. Just until Jeremiah is out of the hospital.” His gaze brushed over the clean gauze she had taped over her forehead. She hated wearing a bandage and would be glad when the wound healed enough to remove the three tiny stitches. No doubt, they’d leave a small scar to remind her that Gott had saved her familye’s lives.

“Komm on, let me drive you,” he said, his voice coaxing.

Oh, she knew that look of his. The calm demeanor. The slightly narrowed eyes. The softly spoken words and stubborn tilt that said he was going to do what he wanted one way or the other. Some things never changed.

But she had changed. Those soft feelings for Eli had been put away, and she wouldn’t fall back into old habits, like smiling at him when he behaved this way. It was time for this conversation to end.

“All right, you can drive today. I’ll go get the kinder.” She picked up a canister of milk and lugged it across the yard toward the well house. Fed by a cold mountain stream coming out of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the stone bath had been built by Daed when the familye first moved to Colorado.

Once inside, Lizzie set the heavy can into the chilled water and realized her hands were shaking from her exertions. When she turned, she found Eli right behind her with the second can.

“They’re too heavy for you to carry,” he said.

Yes, they were, but she could manage. With her father gone, she’d do whatever she must. Feeling suddenly awkward, she scooted out of Eli’s way as he placed the second canister into the water bath.

“Danke,” she said before hurrying to the house.

The girls were standing on the front porch waiting, their kapps, dresses and aprons neatly in place. They smiled, looking so sweet and innocent that a feeling of overwhelming love filled Lizzie’s chest.

“We even washed the breakfast dishes,” Annie said with a big smile, handing Lizzie the basket they would take with them.

“You did? You’re so helpful.” Lizzie smiled back, wiping a smudge of strawberry jam away from the girl’s upper lip.

The clatter of hooves caused them all to turn. Eli drove the buggy toward them, his straw hat, vest and jacket now in place. Inwardly, Lizzie took a deep, startled breath. He looked more handsome than a man had a right to be and it pierced her to the core.

As he pulled Ginger to a halt and hopped out of the buggy, Annie scurried behind Lizzie, as if to hide.

“Ne, I don’t want to ride in the buggy. Can’t we walk today?” the child asked, gripping folds of Lizzie’s dress as she peeked around her legs with caution.

“Ja, I would rather walk today too.” Marty’s eyes were also creased with fear as she sidled up against Lizzie.

Taking both girls’ hands in her own, Lizzie knelt in front of them to meet their eyes. “It’s too far to walk, bopplin. We’ll have to ride. But I will be with you and the Lord will make sure we are safe.”

Annie shook her head, her breathing coming fast, as though she’d been running. Lizzie knew a panic attack when she saw one. She pulled both girls into her arms and gave them a reassuring hug.

Eli stepped up onto the porch, removed his straw hat and crouched down so he could meet Annie’s gaze. “Ginger is an old, gentle horse and she can’t go very fast. You like her, don’t you?”

“Ja.” Annie nodded.

“And you trust me, right?”

A pause, then another nod.

“Then I promise to pull far over onto the shoulder of the road and drive extra careful so we don’t have another accident. If I hear a car coming up fast behind us, I’ll pull completely off the road until they have passed us by. I’ll take good care of all of us, this I promise,” he said.

A long silence followed as Annie drew her eyebrows together, signaling that she was thinking it over. Lizzie didn’t know what she’d do if her sisters refused to get into the buggy. It was eight miles to the Geingeriches’ farm—and eight miles they’d have to travel back. If they walked, they would arrive late, sweaty and tired. And the evenings were too chilly to walk home late at night. But she hated Eli’s word choice. There had been a time not so long ago when she had trusted him and he had made promises to her too. Promises she’d naively believed with all her heart...until he’d broken them.

“All right. We will ride,” Annie finally said in a tone of resignation.

Eli smiled wide, placed his hat back on his head, then picked the girl up. Taking Marty’s hand, he walked with them to the buggy and set them gently inside. Lizzie was right behind them. Watching his tenderness with her sisters brought a poignant ache to her heart. Without Lizzie asking, he helped her into the carriage too, holding on to her forearm a bit longer than necessary. The warmth of his hand tingled over her skin and she pulled away as quickly as possible.

When he was settled in the driver’s seat, he took the leather reins and slapped them against the palomino’s back.

“Schritt,” he called.

The horse walked forward, settling into an easy trot.

Sitting stiffly in her seat, Lizzie adjusted her long skirts and scrunched her knees as far away from Eli’s as possible. She thought about her discussion with him the day before. He’d said he wanted to stay in Riverton. That he wanted to live the Amish way of life. But what if he changed his mind? She told herself she didn’t care. He meant nothing to her now except that he was a member of the Gmay. So why did the thought of him leaving again make her feel so sad and empty inside?

* * *

Eli turned off the pavement and headed down the dirt road leading to the Geingeriches’ farm. Another buggy and horse were right in front of them, with several more following behind in a short convoy. Eli followed their pace. Each familye waved and greeted one another like the best of friends. A faint mist had settled across the valley, but he knew the morning sun would soon burn it off and all would be clear by late afternoon when they began their journey home.

His parents should already be here. Joining them for meetings made him feel almost normal again. They were so happy to have him home that he felt good to be here. But he still couldn’t help wondering if he’d made a wrong choice by returning to Riverton. He wanted to be here. He really did. But he couldn’t seem to get Shannon off his mind. Her smile. Her scent. The way she’d begged him to save her life the night of the drunk driving accident. And then the stricken look on her parents’ faces at the cemetery when they had buried their only child.

When the white frame house came into view, Eli breathed a sigh of relief. He’d promised the girls they’d be safe on their journey to church and he was grateful that he’d been able to keep his word. Too many automobiles flew way too fast down the roads. With drivers talking on their cell phones or texting, he could understand why the Amish were nervous as they drove their horse-drawn buggies and wagons. What was so important on the phone that it was worth risking someone’s life? He’d had a cell phone when he’d lived among the Englisch, but he’d only used it when absolutely necessary. He’d found them a poor substitute for building relationships face-to-face. He was just grateful that a worse tragedy hadn’t struck the Beiler familye and Jeremiah would recover from the accident.

Turning the horse into the main yard, he pulled up where two teenage boys were directing traffic. A long row of black buggies had already been parked along the fence line. Eli waited his turn, then pulled up as instructed.

“I can unhitch your horse,” one of the boys offered.

“Danke.” Eli handed the lines over, watching as the two teenagers removed the harness in preparation of leading the mare over to a field where she could graze and water with other horses.

Eli helped the girls out of the buggy. He noticed how Lizzie avoided his hand by gripping the edge of the carriage. She didn’t meet his eyes as she smoothed her apron, then reached back into the buggy for a basket that was neatly covered with a clean dish towel. He had no idea what was hidden beneath, but surmised it was something tasty for their noon meal later on. The thought of spending the day with Lizzie made him feel warm. If he hadn’t gone to Denver, they probably would have married. They’d be taking their familye to church like any other couple. But then he wouldn’t have met and loved Shannon, and he couldn’t forget that she had meant the world to him.

“Lizzie!”

A young woman with golden hair was busy spreading a cloth over one of the long tables set up outside. Eli didn’t recognize her and wondered if she was a newcomer to the Gmay. She stood beneath the tall spread of a maple tree laden with leaves of bright yellow. The autumn air had a distinct crispness to it, but was still pleasant enough to eat outside.

As she approached, the woman arched her back, displaying an obvious rounding of her abdomen. Eli figured she must be about six months pregnant.

“Guder mariye, Abby. How are you feeling today?” Lizzie asked as the woman waddled toward them.

Ach, so this was Abby! Eli had heard all about her from his parents.

She rested a hand on her belly as Jakob Fisher joined them, taking her arm in a protective gesture. Before he’d left Riverton, Eli had known Jakob and his first wife, Susan, and their two small children, Reuben and Ruby. Jakob was older than Eli and they’d never been close friends, but Eli was sad to learn that Susan had died in childbirth while he was gone. Jakob had married Abby a year earlier and now they were expecting their first child together.

“I am well. The doctor has told me I’m perfectly healthy and should deliver just after the New Year,” Abby said.

“Ach, you may deliver early. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a Christmas baby?” Lizzie asked, her voice filled with jubilation.

Jakob smiled wide. “Ja, that would be the best Christmas gift ever.”

Abby just beamed, her face glowing with an ethereal beauty that seemed to accompany every new mother as she worked hand in hand with Gott to create a new life.

“Hallo, Eli.” Jakob nodded to him. “I would like to introduce you to my wife, Abby.”

Eli smiled and nodded at the pretty woman. “I’m so glad to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said. “I heard you are looking out for the Beilers while Jeremiah is laid up.”

“Ja, the bishop thought it would be best,” Eli replied with a half smile.

“Because of the accident, I heard in town that they’re planning to put up more Amish buggy signs along the roads,” Jakob said.

“Ach, it’s about time,” Abby said.

“Ja, that would be gut. I just hope it gets the drivers to slow down,” Lizzie murmured.

Eli hoped so too. He hated the thought of any other members of their Gmay getting hurt.

The women stepped ahead of the men, moving off toward the kitchen. Marty and Annie joined Jakob’s two children, racing across the front lawn in carefree abandon. Church Sunday was a time to worship Gott, but it was also a time to socialize and relax from daily labors. Both adults and children alike usually looked forward to this day with happiness. But not Eli. Not when he glanced over and saw several older women watching him, their heads bent close as they chatted together. He couldn’t help wondering if he was the topic of their conversation, especially when Marva Geingerich eyed him with a look of revulsion.

“Don’t mind old Mrs. Geingerich. She doesn’t approve of anyone,” Jakob whispered.

Eli jerked, realizing that Jakob had stopped walking and was watching him closely. “Does my nervousness show that much?”

Jakob nodded, his mouth turned up in a generous smile. “I’m afraid so. When my Susan died, Marva didn’t approve of me either, simply because I was alone with two young kinder to raise. It didn’t matter that I had no control over my wife’s death or that I was grieving. Marva seems to be able to find anything and everything to disapprove of.”

When Jakob put it like that, it sounded rather silly, but Eli didn’t laugh.

“You must have been brokenhearted to lose Susan. How did you recover?” Eli asked, eager to know how to ease the gnawing pain he felt deep inside for Shannon.

“I’ll let you know if I ever do. Right now, I doubt a person can fully heal from losing someone they have loved. But you have to keep living. And the Lord blessed me with a second chance at happiness. I never thought it possible, but I’m so deeply in love with Abby and I can’t imagine living life without her.” Jakob’s gaze rested on Abby, his eyes filled with such wonder and devotion that Eli felt a lance of jealousy pierce his heart. Surely there would be no third chance for him.

Turning toward him, Jakob lifted a hand and rested it on Eli’s shoulder before squeezing gently. “I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to walk away from your familye when you left us, nor any easier for you to return. It took a lot of courage to come back and face your eldre. Now you have a second chance with Lizzie too.”

Eli blinked, not quite understanding. For the first time since his return, Eli wondered if everyone believed he still wanted to marry Lizzie. After all, none of them knew anything about Shannon. But Lizzie didn’t want him. Her words to him yesterday had indicated loud and clear that she didn’t love him anymore.

“Facing my eldre was easier than you might think,” Eli said. “They’re both relieved I’m back. But Lizzie is a different story. I think I’ve burned a bridge with her that can never be rebuilt.”

Jakob nodded. “No doubt she is still angry and hurt that you left, but she’s refused to look at any other man since then. She has a gut, forgiving heart. With time, I’m sure both of you will be able to let go of the past, just as I did.”

That was just it. Eli didn’t want to let go of Shannon. How could he forget what she had meant to him and the part he’d played in her death? It was his fault she had died, but he didn’t mention that to Jakob.

With one last smile of encouragement, Jakob turned and joined the other men as they lined up to go inside the spacious barn for their meetings. Eli followed, standing behind Martin Hostetler, who was three years older than him. With auburn hair, a smattering of freckles across his nose and blue eyes that gleamed with merriment, Martin was hardworking and filled with energy. Eli was surprised the man was still single.

Martin nodded and asked him several questions, but was cut off when they went inside, much to Eli’s relief. His thoughts were filled with turmoil. As they trailed into the barn and took their place opposite the women, he considered Jakob’s words. Yes, it had taken courage to return, and yet it hadn’t been so difficult. Not when he’d been yearning for home—and everything in Denver had reminded him of Shannon, filling him with grief and guilt. But now that he was here, he feared he’d made a mistake. People in his Gmay would expect him to marry. And he couldn’t do that right now. Maybe never. Perhaps he didn’t belong in this world anymore.

He glanced at Bishop Yoder’s pretty daughters sitting with Lizzie. The young women smiled shyly, then ducked their heads close together in a whispered conversation. Though he’d known most of them before he left, they all looked alike to Eli. Modest, chaste and pretty. With her creamy complexion and stunning eyes, Lizzie stood out among them, like a beacon of light in a sea of fog. Eli knew the Hostetlers and Geingeriches each had a daughter of marriageable age too, but he wasn’t interested. Not in any of them.

He glanced at Lizzie, who stared straight ahead at the bishop. As the vorsinger called out the first note of the opening song, she opened her mouth and sang in German from the Ausbund, their church hymnal. How ironic that she was the only woman in the room who didn’t seem to be looking at him.

Someone cleared their throat nearby and he glanced over to find his father’s disapproving frown aimed at him. It didn’t matter that Eli was a grown man. He was unmarried and still living in his father’s household. Trying to refocus his thoughts, Eli joined in with the slow harmony, the words returning to his memory like a dear old friend.

Almost immediately, the bishop and deacon stood, then disappeared into the tack room to hold the Abrot, a leadership council meeting to discuss church business. While they were gone, the congregation kept singing, with no musical accompaniment. Eli stared at the closed door, trying to clear his mind and relax. Forcing himself not to look at Lizzie again. Attempting to push her from his mind. But it did no good. Again and again, he glanced her way, his thoughts returning to her wounded gaze. She’d made her position perfectly clear when the bishop had asked him to work on her farm. They needn’t discuss the matter further. And yet, Eli couldn’t fight the feeling that they still had unfinished business between them.

Chapter Three

The congregation knelt in silent prayer until Bishop Yoder released a discreet sigh. As a body, they each rose to their feet, turned and sat on the hard, backless benches. Once they were all seated, Lizzie watched as Bishop Yoder stood at the front of the room. With such a small Gmay, they had only one minister...Lizzie’s father. And with him still in the hospital, the bishop would probably preach to them.

“What is in your heart today?” he asked the worshippers.

The question took Lizzie off guard. Tilting her head, she listened intently as the bishop spoke, his voice soft but powerful, like the sound of rolling thunder off in the distance. He met the eyes of each person in the room as though he were speaking to every single one of them. When he met Lizzie’s eyes, she looked down, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

“Do you carry peace and charity within you, or do you harbor anger and malice toward someone?” the bishop asked, pausing to give them each time to search their hearts.

Lizzie squirmed on her seat. She glanced at Eli, but found him gazing straight forward, his expression one of thoughtful introspection.

Bishop Yoder lifted a book of scriptures. “But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

Lizzie had heard this passage numerous times and thought she understood it clearly...until now. She had no desire to be hurt again and again, especially where her heart was concerned. But wasn’t that what the Lord expected? For her to humble herself and cast aside her harsh feelings.

“Over the next weeks, I hope each of you will resolve any hard feelings you might carry toward others,” the bishop continued. “Examine your own thoughts and actions and bring them into line with how the Lord would have you live. I beseech each of you to hand Him your anger and pain, your shortcomings and flaws. Then, once we all are in accord with each other, we will hold our Council Services in preparation for Communion.”

Communion! A sacred time when the entire congregation must be in complete harmony with one another. With all that had happened recently, Lizzie had forgotten it was nearly that time of year.

As the bishop continued speaking about the rules of their Ordnung and the responsibility of each member of their community, she clenched her eyes tightly closed and gripped her hands together in her lap. Surely the bishop wasn’t speaking directly to her. He couldn’t know the resentment she still harbored toward Eli. Could he? Yet whether he could or not, she was the minister’s daughter, after all, and she knew she should set a good example of love, tolerance and forgiveness. But how could she forgive Eli after what he’d done? He had soured her toward all men. She would probably never marry now. Never have a familye of her own. Never live in her own house. Over time, several men had asked her out. Martin Hostetler had pursued her doggedly, but seemed to have finally given up after the first year. Now it appeared she would become an old maid. Pitied by the other members of her community.

She took a slow breath, trying to settle her nerves. Her thoughts were selfish, she knew that. She was so worried about herself and what others might think about her that she hadn’t stopped to consider Eli and his well-being. Why had he returned? What had happened to him after all this time? After he’d left, she’d been worried for him, fearing that he was lost forever. But here he was, seeking a second chance. And who was she to refuse him?

She had to find a way to let go of her anger. To forgive him. But how? All her life, she’d been taught the principles of repentance and forgiveness. So, why was it so difficult to exercise those virtues now?

Puzzling over her dilemma, Lizzie was surprised at how quickly time passed before they broke for the noon meal.

“Komm on. You can help me serve my potato soup.” Abby spoke cheerfully as she took Lizzie’s arm and pulled her toward the barn door.

“Potato soup?” Lizzie said, her mind still focused on the sermon.

Abby laughed. “I know it’s a bit fancier than our normal fare of bread and peanut butter, but I’m feeling extra domestic lately. All I want to do is cook and clean. Jakob says I’m nesting. He says it’s normal for a woman in my condition to act this way.”

Laughing at Abby’s enthusiasm, Lizzie let herself be pulled along. She could just imagine how fun it must be to anticipate her first child. But that thought brought her another bout of confusion, sadness and guilt.

Inside the kitchen, a dozen women crowded around, helping prepare the food. Their identical dresses were simple but pretty in assorted colors of blue, burgundy, purple and green. Each woman wore a pair of black, sensible hard-soled shoes, and a starched organdy kapp. Lizzie thought there was something lovely and serene about their simplistic dress.

Naomi Fisher stood slicing loaves of homemade bread in front of the counter while Sarah Yoder laid dill and sweet pickles on a plate. Abby stirred an enormous silver pot on the stove as Lizzie reached for a large serving bowl.

“I’ll ladle the soup into the bowl and you can serve it hot to the men.” Abby picked up a long ladle and dipped it into the frothy, white soup.

Lizzie nodded, sliding on a pair of oven mitts to protect her hands from the heat. Lifting the bowl, she held it steady while Abby ladled it full. The warm, tantalizing aroma made Lizzie’s mouth water.

“Um, it smells delicious,” Lizzie said.

“Danke. I crumbled bits of bacon and shredded cheese into it. It’s one of Jakob’s favorite dishes. It’ll go well with Naomi’s crusty homemade bread,” Abby said.

“Did you see Eli Stoltzfus listening to the bishop’s sermon? I hope it sank in. That boy needs to mend his ways, that’s for sure.”

Lizzie looked up and saw elderly Marva Geingerich standing next to Linda Hostetler. The two women were unwrapping trenchers of sliced cheese and ham. Slightly deaf at the age of eighty-nine, Marva’s rasping attempt at a whisper carried like a shout across the kitchen and everyone paused in their work. Especially Fannie, Eli’s mother.

“Ja, I saw him. He’s trying hard to fit back into the Gmay and doing a good job of it from what I can see,” Linda said.

Marva’s thin lips curved in disapproval. “Ach, I don’t know why he ever came back. Once they leave and get a taste of the Englisch world, they never can get rid of it. I’ve seen it happen several times.”

Something hardened inside of Lizzie. Though she was angry at Eli, she didn’t like what she was hearing. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right.

“Marva! What are you saying?” Naomi paused in her slicing, her forehead creased with a frown.

“He won’t stay long, you mark my words,” Marva said. “As soon as that boy gets tired of living our humble way of life, he’ll be off again to live among the Englisch.”

“You don’t know that. Eli returned of his own choosing. He wants to be here with us.” Sarah Yoder, the bishop’s wife, set a casserole dish on the wooden counter with a thump.

Marva jerked her head up, the wrinkles around her gray eyes deepening with her scowl. “Ach, he’s been gone too long. Who knows what wickedness he’s been up to? I don’t know how he’ll ever fit in with the Gmay now. No doubt he’s got plenty to repent of. Mark my words, he’ll leave again and that will be that.”

An audible gasp filled the room and Lizzie flinched.

Turning, she saw the reason why. Eli stood in the doorway, holding an empty glass in one hand. His expression looked peaceful as a summer’s morning, but Lizzie knew he’d overheard the conversation and must be upset. It was there in the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the tensing of his shoulders. Other people might not notice, but Lizzie knew him too well. For just a moment, she saw a flash of anger in his eyes, then it was gone and she thought perhaps she’d imagined it.

He cleared his voice, speaking in a composed tone. “I’m sorry to intrude, but Ezekiel has a cough. Could I trouble someone for a glass of water?”

Ezekiel, or Dawdi Zeke as most everyone called him, was the eldest member of the Gmay. Having just turned ninety-four years, he still had an active mind and was as kind and compassionate as Marva was harsh and unforgiving.

“Of course you can.” Naomi, who was Dawdi Zeke’s daughter, took the glass from Eli’s hand, filled it with tap water, then handed it back to him.

“Danke.” He ducked his head and left without another word.

Everyone stared in mortified confusion, not knowing what to say. A part of Lizzie felt compassion for Eli and the urge to run after him. But another part thought it was just what he deserved. That made her feel worse because it wasn’t charitable to think that way.

“How could you say those things? It wasn’t very nice. We should be more compassionate.” Naomi shook her head, her expression showing her dismay as she gazed intently at Marva.

“I don’t know what you mean. I only spoke the truth.” Marva drew back her shoulders, pursed her lips and lifted her chin a little higher.

The hackles rose at the back of Lizzie’s neck. Even if it was the truth, it wasn’t kind. She would never consider belittling Eli to other members of the congregation on Church Sunday. It wasn’t their place to judge him or anyone. Especially right after the bishop had preached to them about forgiveness and their upcoming Communion. But she couldn’t help feeling like a hypocrite since Marva had voiced aloud her very same concerns.

Lizzie’s gaze shifted to Fannie, Eli’s mother. She had been cutting thick pieces of Schnitz apple pie but had dropped the knife onto the table when Marva had begun speaking. Looking at her now, Lizzie saw that her face had gone white as a sun-bleached sheet, her chin quivering.

“He’s mein sohn. Do you really think he’ll leave again?” she cried with naked fear.

Naomi quickly set her bread knife on the table before wrapping her arms around the other woman in a comforting hug. “Ne, it’s nonsense! Don’t you listen to such talk, Fannie. Eli fits in here with all of us just fine. He’s one of our own and a welcome addition to our community. We love him and we’re blessed to have him back. Look at all the gut he’s done already for the Beiler familye. Isn’t that right, Lizzie?”

Naomi looked at her and Lizzie blinked in stunned silence before stuttering over a reply. “Ja, he...he’s been very kind.”

“And who are we to judge others? We all have our faults. We are all happy that Eli has returned to his faith.” Sarah nodded her approval.

“Danke.” Fannie wiped one eye, showing a tremulous smile of appreciation.

“Humph! We’ll see.” Marva huffed as she carried a tray of sliced homemade bread outside.

Swallowing hard, Lizzie realized she was staring. Her mind whirled in confusion. Seeing the hurt on Fannie’s face, she hurried over to comfort the woman.

“Don’t listen to such talk. Eli loves you and Leroy. He wants to be here with you,” Lizzie said, trying to believe her own words.

“But what if Marva is right? What if Eli leaves again? I don’t know what I’d do. He’s our only sohn,” Fannie whispered.

A tremor ran down Lizzie’s spine, but she fought off her own fears and tried to be brave. “If he leaves, we’ll do as Christ taught and turn the other cheek. We’ll exercise faith and face whatever comes our way and pray that he’ll come back again. We can never give up on anyone.”

Speaking these words aloud brought Lizzie a bit of courage. She meant what she said, yet her heart thumped with trepidation.

“I just don’t think I can stand to lose him again.” Tears shimmered in Fannie’s eyes.

“We’ll all be here for you, no matter what happens,” Lizzie said.

Fannie nodded, but her sad expression still showed her unease as she returned to her chore of slicing pie.

Lizzie watched her, her own hands shaking.

Abby laid a hand on her arm. “Lizzie, are you all right?”

She gave a stuttering laugh. “Ja, I’m fine.”

What else could she say? Only Eli knew if he would stay or go. Any member of their community could leave at any time, including her. Lizzie just wished she could be certain she wouldn’t be hurt by his decisions.

“Don’t worry,” Abby said to her. “It’ll be all right. Komm on. Let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

Lizzie followed her friend outside, the screen door clapping closed behind them. They paused beneath the shade of the back porch. Children raced across the yard in a game of chase. Teenaged boys stood in a group, watching the teenaged girls. The afternoon sun sparkled in an azure sky. Lizzie wanted to cherish such a day...one of the last warm ones before the cooler weather rolled in. As she gazed at the rows of men sitting at the long tables, she let their subdued laughter soothe her ruffled feelings.

“I can’t believe Marva said those horrible things. What was she thinking? She has such a waspish tongue,” Abby whispered, her hands gripping the soup ladle like a hammer. “She’s never been happy since her son brought the familye here from Ohio after his vadder died. She understands about repentance and forgiveness and should know better than to speak that way.”

“Marva is rather stern,” Lizzie agreed in a vague tone, once again feeling like a hypocrite.

“Jakob told me you and Eli were engaged once. I hope her words didn’t upset you too badly,” Abby said.

Lizzie shrugged as she gripped the serving bowl tighter, letting the soup warm her chilled hands. “That was a long time ago.”

“Are you still friends with him now that he’s returned?” Abby peered at her, as though looking deep inside her heart.

Biting her bottom lip, Lizzie couldn’t meet Abby’s gaze.

“Oh, Lizzie. I’m so sorry.” Abby squeezed her arm. “His return must be difficult for you. And to have him working at your farm every day... But don’t forget to keep an open heart and have faith. Gott will care for you both and all will work out fine. I know it will.”

Lizzie couldn’t manage to muster a smile in return. “I’m not so sure.”

Resting her palm against her baby bump, Abby rubbed gently. “With my past history, I never would have believed Gott could make my life turn out so well. I thought I could never trust men and would never marry. But I soon learned that I was wrong. Give Gott a chance and He’ll work so many blessings in your life, just as He did mine.”

Lizzie understood. Since her marriage to Jakob, Abby had confided that she’d been physically and verbally abused by her father and elder brother. Abby was so happy now and Lizzie was glad. But she almost dropped the serving bowl when Abby turned and headed straight over to the table where Eli was sitting.

Breathing a sigh of resignation, Lizzie followed her friend, but couldn’t help wondering if this day could get any worse. She wanted to turn the other cheek. To forget her pain and humiliation and believe that Eli truly was back for good. But she couldn’t help thinking that Marva was right about one thing. Eli wouldn’t stay.

* * *

“When did you cut your leg on the hay baler?”

Eli sat at the table next to Darrin Albrecht, their deacon. The autumn sun beat down on the men, but they’d each removed their black felt hats for their noon meal. They spoke in companionable friendship, waiting as the women set the food before them.

A rather hefty and somber man, Darrin was middle-aged with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair and a long beard to match. As the deacon, it was his job to assist the bishop in disciplinary issues, to ensure that all members of the Gmay were following the rules of the Ordnung and to announce upcoming marriages.

“It’s been two months since it happened and it wasn’t even a bad cut. I can’t understand why it’s taking so long to heal,” Darrin said.

Out of his peripheral vision, Eli caught sight of Lizzie standing just behind his left shoulder. She held a large, steaming dish, the aroma tantalizing. He leaned back, giving her and Abby room to scoop soup into his bowl. Along with the other women, they worked in silence, seeing to everyone’s needs before their own. Glancing up, he saw Lizzie’s face looked pale. She’d been in the kitchen earlier and he couldn’t help wondering if she agreed with Marva Geingerich’s opinion of him.

He clamped a hard will on his anger. When he’d returned, he’d known he might face disapproval from some of his people. It didn’t change anything. He wanted to be here. And that meant he must exercise self-discipline, control his feelings and remain passive in the face of adversity. It’s what the Lord would want him to do.

“Are you all right?” he asked Lizzie, worried that she and his mother were both overly upset by what had transpired.

“Ja, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Before he could answer, she ducked her head and moved on to Deacon Albrecht’s bowl.

Turning, Eli faced Darrin. “May I see your wound?”

He was conscious of Lizzie moving to the other side of the table as she served the other men, still close enough to overhear his conversation.

Beneath the table, Darrin hiked up his homemade pant leg to the knee. A gauze bandage had been affixed to the side of his lower calf with white tape. Eli ducked down and Darrin lifted the gauze to reveal a thin, jagged cut no more than an inch long. Though it didn’t look deep, the wound was swollen and angry red.

“Ach, I have no doubt it’s infected.” Eli wasn’t a medical doctor, but he recognized a septic injury when he saw one.

“Norma cleans it for me every day with hydrogen peroxide and ointment, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference.” Darrin pressed the bandage back in place and pulled his pant leg down.

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