Bethany Martin has until Christmas to prove to the Amish community that she can raise her siblings—including her mischievous brother—without a husband. Then handsome newcomer Michael Shetler arrives, winning over Bethany’s siblings. He might be the answer to their prayers, but Michael has a troubled past. Can Bethany love a man with secrets...even if it’s the only thing keeping her family together?

After thirty-five years as a nurse, PATRICIA DAVIDS hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Patricia always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her online at patriciadavids.com.

Also By Patricia Davids

North Country Amish

An Amish Wife for Christmas

The Amish Bachelors

An Amish Harvest

An Amish Noel

His Amish Teacher

Their Pretend Amish Courtship

Amish Christmas Twins

An Unexpected Amish Romance

His New Amish Family

Brides of Amish Country

Plain Admirer

Amish Christmas Joy

The Shepherd’s Bride

The Amish Nanny

An Amish Family Christmas: A Plain Holiday

An Amish Christmas Journey

Amish Redemption

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

An Amish Wife for Christmas

Patricia Davids

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08636-3

AN AMISH WIFE FOR CHRISTMAS

Published in Great Britain 2018

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

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

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

“Your sister thinks you should marry...”

Bethany’s face grew hot. “Husbands don’t exactly grow on trees in New Covenant.”

“Anyone you chose would be getting a fine wife.”

She looked up to study Michael’s reflection in the glass, but it wasn’t clear enough to let her see what he was thinking. “Are you making me an offer?”

“You would be getting a very poor bargain if I was.”

She turned around so she could look into his eyes. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

There was so much pain in his voice and deep in his eyes that she wanted to hold him and promise to make everything better.

She couldn’t. “What’s wrong, Michael?”

“Nothing that you can fix.”

“How do I know that if you can’t tell me what troubles you?”

“Trust me. You don’t want to know.” He turned and walked down the hall and out the back door.

He was so wrong.

Bethany wanted to know everything about Michael Shetler.

Dear Reader,

This is the first book in my new Amish series set in Maine. I hope you have enjoyed the story. In case you haven’t noticed, I am a dog lover. The remarkable Sadie Sue was patterned after my own dog Sadie. Sadly she is no longer with us but we have wonderful memories of her happy personality and relentless drive to fetch the ball, fetch the ball.

PTSD is a disorder that has been in the news a lot in recent years. Many of our soldiers are returning to civilian life crippled by this devastating disorder. More research is needed to combat this problem but therapy dogs have been shown to have a positive effect on the men and women who own them. I have limited knowledge of the disorder and this is not meant to be a tutorial on the subject. Any mistakes or incorrect assumptions are purely my own.

Blessings to all,

Patricia Davids

That he would grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man; That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, May be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fullness of God.

—Ephesians 3:16–19

This book is dedicated with great admiration to my longtime and dare I say long-suffering editor, Emily Rodmell. I’m sure I have tried your endless patience far more often than any other author, but you have never failed to help me get back on track. During the bleak moments of my personal life and in some weird and crazy times you have remained confident in my talent and pushed me to write a better book even when I wasn’t sure I wanted to go there. Thanks for your faith in me. Here’s hoping it isn’t misplaced. Onward and upward.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

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

“Your brother’s behavior reflects badly on you, Bethany, and on our community. Something must be done.”

Bethany Martin sat across from Bishop Elmer Schultz at her kitchen table with her head bowed and her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Her dear friend Gemma Lapp sat beside her. Bethany was grateful for Gemma’s moral support.

“We Amish are newcomers here,” he continued. “We can’t afford to stir ill will among our Englisch neighbors. Don’t you agree?”

Bethany glanced up and met his intense gaze. She nodded slightly. An imposing man in his midfifties, the bishop had a shaggy gray-and-black beard that reached to the middle of his chest. A potato farmer and owner of a shed building business, he was known for his long and often rambling sermons, but he was a fair man and well liked in their small Amish community. Bethany didn’t take his visit lightly. She prepared to defend her brother.

“Ivan isn’t a bad boy. It’s just that he misses his grandfather. He’s angry that God took Elijah from us and he feels guilty. The two of them were very close.” Her heart ached for her troubled brother.

“Time will heal this,” Gemma added.

The bishop sighed. “Your grandfather Elijah was a fine man, Bethany. I have no doubt that he kept the boy’s high spirits in check, but Ivan has quickly put one foot on the slippery slope that leads to serious trouble. He needs a firm hand to guide him and mold him into an upstanding and righteous man.”

“I can do that,” Bethany assured him. “I’ve raised Ivan from the time he was five and our sister, Jenny, wasn’t much more than a newborn babe.” She might be their sister, but she was also the only mother they had ever known. Both mother and father to them after the man who bore that title left his family for the fourth and final time. Bethany’s anger surged to the surface but she quickly brought it under control. At least her mother had been spared knowing about his final betrayal. She had been positive he would return to care for his children after she was gone. He hadn’t. Bethany brought her attention back to the matter at hand.

Gemma waved one hand. “Ivan is almost fourteen. Boys that age get into mischief.”

It was a weak argument and Bethany knew it. Her brother’s recent behavior was more than mischief, but she didn’t know what to do about it. He seemed to be done listening to her.

The bishop’s expression softened. “Bethany, your grandfather was concerned that you have sacrificed your chance to have a family of your own in order to care for your siblings.”

She drew herself up straight. “I don’t feel that way. Ivan and Jenny are my family.”

The bishop laced his fingers together on the table. “I am the spiritual leader of this community and as such I have a duty to oversee the welfare of all my flock. Normally I would leave the discipline of children to their parents. In this case I feel duty bound to step in. Elijah was my dear friend. It was his vision that founded our new community here. It was his desire to see it grow. For that we need the goodwill of our Englisch neighbors.”

“I’m aware of that. I spent many months helping him search for the best place to settle. New Covenant is as much my dream as it was his.” She didn’t like the direction the bishop seemed to be going.

“Then you agree that we can’t let the reckless actions of one boy ruin what has been created.”

“He isn’t trying to spoil anything.” Bethany was compelled to defend Ivan, but the truth was she didn’t know what was wrong with him. Was he acting out because of his grief or was something else going on?

His schoolwork had suffered in the past weeks. His teacher had complained of behavior issues in class. He had been in several scuffles with non-Amish boys earlier in the year but they weren’t anything serious. It was his recent secrecy and withdrawal that bothered Bethany the most. How could she help him if she didn’t understand what was amiss?

She lifted her chin. “There is no proof that he damaged Greg Janson’s tractor or that he is responsible for letting Robert Morris’s cattle loose.”

Bishop Schultz leveled a stern look at her. “He was seen near both farms at the time and he’d been in fights with both the Janson and Morris boys.”

“That’s not proof,” she insisted.

The bishop pushed back from the table. “I have written to your uncle in Bird-in-Hand.”

She frowned. “To Onkel Harvey? Why?”

“Elijah mentioned that Harvey and his family plan to visit you this Christmas.”

“That’s true. We are expecting them to stay a week as they were unable to come to the funeral.”

The bishop rose to his feet. “I have asked your uncle to take Ivan with him when the family returns to Pennsylvania.”

Bethany’s mouth dropped open. “Nee, you can’t send Ivan away. This isn’t right.”

“It was not an easy decision. I know your intentions are goot but the boy needs the firm guidance of a man. You are too easy on him.”

“Because he’s still a little boy.” The situation was quickly slipping out of her control. They couldn’t take her brother from her. Fear sent her pulse pounding in her temples. “Please, Bishop, you must reconsider.”

“I will not.”

Bethany pressed both hands to her heart. “I promised my mother before she died that I would keep the family together. I promised her. Don’t do this.”

The bishop’s expression didn’t change. Her plea had fallen on deaf ears. Men were the decision makers in her Amish community. The bishop had the last word even in this family matter.

He took his coat and hat from the pegs by the door and put them on. “Bethany, if you were married I wouldn’t have to take this course of action. Your husband would be the one to make such decisions and discipline the boy. With Elijah gone, I see no other choice. I must think of what is best for all, not just for one.”

He nodded to her and left. Bethany wanted to cry, to shout at him, to run after him and beg him to change his mind, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“I’m sorry.” Gemma laid a hand on Bethany’s shoulder.

“What am I going to do? There has to be a way to change the bishop’s mind.”

“Why don’t I make us some toast and a cup of coffee. Then we’ll put our heads together and come up with a plan.”

“We’re out of bread and I don’t want any coffee.”

“What Amish woman runs out of bread?”

“This one. There has been so much to do since Daadi’s passing I haven’t had time to bake. If Ivan straightens up and starts behaving, if he apologizes to the bishop maybe he’ll be allowed to stay. It’s five weeks until Christmas. That’s enough time to prove he has changed.”

“Or you can get married. That will fix everything.”

Bethany gave her friend an exasperated look. Gemma knew Bethany’s feeling about marriage. It wasn’t for her. “It’s unlikely that I could find someone to wed me before Christmas, Gemma.”

“If you weren’t so particular, maybe not. Jesse Crump holds you in high regard.”

Bethany wrinkled her nose. “Having a conversation with Jesse is like pulling teeth. He’s a nice enough fellow, but he never has anything to say.”

“Ack, you’re too fussy by far.”

“You marry him.”

Both Gemma’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? Not a chance. Besides, it isn’t my brother that is being sent away.”

Bethany battled her rising panic. “I wish Daadi were still here. I don’t know what to do.”

Gemma slipped an arm around Bethany’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “If your grandfather was still alive we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I know.”

Ivan’s troubling behavior had started when their grandfather became ill early in the fall but it had gotten much worse since his death. Her gaze moved to the closed door leading to her grandfather’s workroom. Their grandfather had happily spent hours repairing clocks and antique watches during the long winter months in his tiny shop. With the door open she used to hear him humming or muttering depending on how a particular project was progressing.

The workshop hadn’t been opened since Ivan found Elijah slumped over his desk barely breathing. The boy ran to find help but by the time it arrived Elijah was gone.

She should have mailed his unfinished works back to their owners before now but she couldn’t bear to enter the room. The grief she tried so hard to control would come pouring out when she did.

Tears stung the backs of her eyelids, but she quickly blinked them away. The quiet strength and unquestioning love of her grandfather had seen Bethany through the worst times in her life. It was still hard to accept that she could never turn to him for guidance again.

She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. He would tell her prayer and hard work solved problems. Worry and regret never did. There had to be a way to keep her family together and she would find it. Perhaps her uncle would side with her. She would write her own letter to him and plead her case.

She slipped into her coat. “Thank you for coming today, Gemma, but I’d best get the rest of my chores done.”

Gemma followed her to the door. “I don’t know how you’ll manage this farm without Elijah and Ivan.”

“One day at a time and with the help of our neighbors if I need it.”

“I’ve never known you to ask for help.” Gemma moved to put on her black bonnet and coat.

“I asked you to sit with me when the bishop came today, didn’t I?”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “Okay, you have asked for help one time. I wish I knew what to say but I think it is all up to Ivan. I’m surprised he wasn’t here this morning.”

“He’s at school. I didn’t want to take him out of class.”

The New Covenant Amish community was too small yet to have their own school. The five Amish children in their church, including her brother and sister, attended the nearest public school. It was far from ideal but the teachers and school board had taken great pains to accommodate the needs and customs of the new Amish pupils.

The two women walked outside together. Gemma pulled on her gloves. “Do you want me to come over this evening when you talk to him?”

Bethany shook her head. “Danki, but I think it’s best I speak to him alone.”

“All right. I’ll stop by tomorrow and you can tell me all about it.” The two women exchanged a hug. Gemma climbed into her buggy and drove away.

Bethany’s breath rose as puffs of white mist in the chilly mid-November morning as she crossed the snow-covered yard to the newly completed red barn. It was the latest building to be added to the new community. The bulk of the structure had been raised in a single day with the help of an Amish community from upstate New York. Thirty men had traveled all night by bus and worked feverishly to complete the barn before taking the long bus ride home again that night. Someday the people of New Covenant would return the favor.

Her grandfather had had plans for half a dozen additional structures to attract more Amish families to New Covenant. It had been his dream to form a thriving Amish district in Maine, far from the tourist centers in Pennsylvania. To him, fewer tourists meant less money but more time to spend close to God and family without worldly influences. If only he could have lived to see his dream grow and thrive.

Bethany fed and watered the chickens, gathered the eggs and then fed and watered the geese before heading to the barn. Her mind wasn’t on her chores. Her conversation with the bishop replayed in her head as she fed and watered their two horses. Outside the milk cow’s stall, Bethany paused and leaned on her pitchfork. “I’ve got trouble, Clarabelle.”

The cow didn’t answer her. Bethany pitched a forkful of hay to the family’s placid brown-and-white Guernsey and then leaned on the stall door. “The bishop has decided to send Ivan to Bird-in-Hand to live with Onkel Harvey. It’s not right. It’s not fair. I can’t bear the idea of sending my little brother away. It will break his heart and Jenny’s, to say nothing of mine. We belong together.”

Clarabelle munched a mouthful of hay as she regarded Bethany with soulful deep brown eyes. The bell around her neck clanked softly as she tilted her head to allow Bethany to scratch behind her left ear. Bethany complied. As a confidant, Clarabelle was unassuming and easy to talk to, but she was short on advice.

“Advice is what I need, Clarabelle. The bishop said Ivan could stay if I had a husband. Someone to discipline and guide the boy. I don’t believe for a minute that is the solution but I’m getting desperate. Any idea where I can get a husband before Christmas? And please don’t suggest Jesse Crump. Jedidiah Zook might be a possibility if he smiled more. Maybe he just needs a wife to make him happier. What do you think?”

“I doubt your cow has the answers you seek but if she does I have a few questions for her about my own problems,” a man said in an amused drawl.

Bethany spun around. A stranger stood in the open barn door. He wore a black Amish hat pulled low on his forehead and a dark blue woolen coat with the collar turned up against the cold. He carried a duffel bag over one shoulder and he leaned on a black cane.

The mirth sparkling in his eyes sent a flush of heat to her cheeks. How humiliating. To be caught talking to a cow about matrimonial prospects made her look ridiculous.

She struggled to hide her embarrassment. After looking the man up and down, she stabbed the pitchfork into the hay again and dumped it into Clarabelle’s stall. “It’s rude to eavesdrop on a private conversation.”

“I’m not sure talking to a cow qualifies as a private conversation but I am sorry to intrude.” The man put down his duffel bag.

He didn’t look sorry. He looked like he was struggling not to laugh at her. At least he was a stranger. Maybe this mortifying episode wouldn’t become known in the community. She cringed at the thought of Jedidiah Zook hearing the story. “How can I help you?”

“Mind if I sit here for a minute?” He pointed to a stack of straw bales beside the barn door.

She wanted him to go away but her Amish upbringing prevented her from suggesting it. Any stranger in need deserved her help.

He didn’t wait for her reply but limped to the closest bale and sat down with a weary sigh. “The bus driver who dropped me off said New Covenant was a little way along on this road. His idea of a little way does not match mine.”

“It’s less than half a mile to the highway from my lane.”

He rubbed his leg. “That’s the farthest I’ve walked in six months. How much farther do I have to go?”

“You have arrived at the south end of our community.”

He tipped his head slightly. “I thought New Covenant was a town.”

“It’s more a collection of houses strung out on either side of the road right now, but it will be a thriving village one day.” She prayed she spoke the truth.

“Glad to hear it. I’m Michael Shetler, by the way.” He took off his hat and raked his fingers through his thick dark brown hair.

She considered not giving him her name. The less he knew to repeat the better.

He noticed her hesitation and cleared his throat. “It’s rude not to introduce yourself in return.”

She arched one eyebrow. “I’m being rude? That’s the pot calling the kettle black. I am Bethany Martin,” she admitted, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.

“Nice to meet you, Bethany. Once I’ve had a rest I’ll step outside if you want to finish your private conversation.” He winked. One corner of his mouth twitched, revealing a dimple in his cheek.

Something about the sparkle in his blue eyes invited her to smile back at him but she firmly resisted the urge. She stabbed the pitchfork into the remaining hay and left it standing upright. “I’m glad I could supply you with some amusement today.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had something to smile about.”

The clatter of hooves outside caught her attention as a horse and wagon pulled up beside the barn and stopped. She caught a glimpse of the driver through the open door. He stood and faced the barn. “Ivan Martin, are you in there? It’s Jedidiah Zook. I want to speak to you!”

Her gaze shot to Michael. His grin widened. Her heart sank as he chuckled. “I may not have given Clarabelle enough credit. It seems your preferred beau has arrived. It was Jedidiah Zook you hoped would come courting, right?”

She glared and shook a finger at him. “Don’t you dare repeat one word of what you heard in here.”

* * *

Michael couldn’t help teasing her. The high color in her cheeks and the fire in her eyes told him she was no meek Amish maid. He wagged his eyebrows. “Do you need a go-between? Shall I speak on your behalf? I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”

“If you say anything, I’ll...I’ll...” She clamped her lips closed. The sheen of unshed tears gathered in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them back and raised her chin.

Teasing was one thing. Upsetting her was another. He held up one hand. “Relax. Your secret is safe with me. If the cow spills the beans, that is not my fault.”

“Stay here.” Bethany rushed past him out the wide double doors. “Guder mariye, Jedidiah. Ivan isn’t in here. He’s at school. Can I be of any help?”

“Your brother has gone too far this time.”

The man’s angry voice brought Michael closer to the open door to watch. Bethany faced Jedidiah defiantly with her head up and her hands on her hips. “What has he done?”

“Two thirty-pound bags of potatoes and a ten-pound bag of dried beans are missing from my cellar.”

“What makes you think Ivan took them?”

“Because he sold a bag of potatoes to the general store owner just this morning.”

She folded her arms in front of her. “That’s not proof he took them. Maybe it was one of our sacks that he sold.”

“Was it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You tell him I came by and that I’m on my way to report this theft to the bishop. This has gone beyond what can be ignored. It must stop. If you can’t control the boy someone else will have to.” He lifted the reins, turned the wagon around and headed down the lane.

Michael limped out to stand beside her. “Not a very jolly fellow. Are you sure he’s the one?”

She shot him a sour look. “In spite of what you think you heard earlier, I am not in the market for a husband.”

Why wasn’t she married already? She was certainly attractive enough. Not that he was in the market for a relationship. He wasn’t. He might never be. He sobered at the thought. The men who shot him and robbed the store he had worked may have robbed him of a family, too. He had no idea if his PTSD would get better living in the isolation of northern Maine, but it was his last option.

Bethany brushed past him into the barn, a fierce scowl marring her pretty features. “I need to speak to my brother and get to the bottom of this. You are welcome to rest here.”

He was glad he wasn’t the brother in question. She went down the aisle and opened the stall door of a black mare with a white blaze. She led the mare out, tied the horse to a hitching post and began to harness her.

“Let me do that for you.” He took a step closer.

“I can manage,” she snapped.

He took a step back and held one hand up. She didn’t need or want his help. In short order she had the harness on and then led the animal outside, where she backed the mare in between the shafts of the buggy parked in a lean-to at the side of the building.

“May I?” he asked, pointing to the buggy. She nodded. He finished securing the traces on one side while she did the other. He buckled the crupper, the loop that went around the mare’s tail to keep the harness from sliding forward on the animal, as Bethany finished her side and came to check his work.

“Danki.”

She thanked him like it was a chore. Bethany Martin was clearly used to doing things by herself.

Michael realized that he hadn’t looked over his shoulder once since hearing Bethany’s voice. That had to be some kind of record. He glanced around out of habit but there was nothing sinister in the farmstead and empty snow-covered fields that backed up to wooded hills on either side of the wide valley. All throughout his trip to New Covenant he’d been on edge, expecting danger from every stranger that came close to him. He’d spent most of the bus ride from Philadelphia with sweating palms and tense muscles, expecting another attack or a flashback to overtake him at any second. They never came when he was expecting them.

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. For the first time in weeks the knots in his neck and shoulders were missing. Maybe he was getting better. Maybe this move was the right thing, after all. He prayed it was. Nothing here reminded him of the Philadelphia street or the shop where his life had changed so drastically.

Here the air was fresh and clean. The next house was several hundred yards up the road. Nothing crowded him. He could start over here. No one would look at him with pity or worse. He had a job waiting for him in New Covenant and a place to live all thanks to the generosity of a man he’d never met. He needed to get going, but he was reluctant to leave Bethany’s company for some reason. Her no-nonsense attitude was comforting. He pushed the thought aside. “I should be on my way. Can you give me directions to Elijah Troyer’s farm?”

She shot him a startled look and then glanced away. “This was his farm,” she said softly with a quiver in her voice.

“Was? He sold it?” Michael waited impatiently for her to speak.

She kept her gaze averted. “I’m sorry but Elijah Troyer passed away three weeks ago.”

Michael drew back with a sharp intake of breath. “He’s dead? That can’t be.”

He fought against the onrush of panic. What about the job? What about the place to live? Were his hopes for a new life dead, too?

Бесплатный фрагмент закончился. Хотите читать дальше?

An Amish Wife For Christmas

Те, кто искали эту книгу – читают

MILLS & BOON

Другие книги автора