Amish Redemption. Patricia Davids

to Joshua, he said, “Mother’s onkel Marvin passed away a few months ago.”

      Joshua frowned. “I don’t remember him.”

      His mother set a plate on the table. “You never met him. He left the Amish as a young man and never spoke to my family again.”

      “It seems Mother has inherited his property over by Hope Springs.” His father tapped the letter against his palm.

      “I didn’t even know where he lived. His lawyer said he was fond of me because I was such a happy child. Strange, don’t you think? Would you like kaffi or milk?” she asked with a beaming smile on her face.

      “Coffee. What kind of property did he leave you?”

      “Forty acres with a house and barn,” his father replied. “But the lawyer says the property is in poor repair. I was going to go to Hope Springs the day after tomorrow to look it over, but you know how I hate long buggy trips. Besides, I need to get the ground worked so we can plant. Joshua, why don’t you go instead? It would take a load off me, and it would give you a little time to enjoy yourself before getting behind a planter again.”

      Hope Springs was a day’s buggy ride from the farm. The idea of traveling wasn’t as appealing as it had once been, but doing something for his father was. “I’d be glad to go for you.”

      His mother’s smile faded. “But Joshua has only just gotten home, Isaac.”

      Joshua rose to his feet and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You have two whole days to spoil me with your wunderbar cooking before then. I’ll check out your property, and then I’ll be home for good.”

      “Do you promise?” she asked softly.

      He cupped her face in his palms. “I promise.”

      * * *

      “Mary, I have just the mann for you.”

      Resisting the urge to bang her head on the cupboard door in front of her, Mary Kaufman continued mixing the lemon cake batter in the bowl she held. “I don’t want a man, Ada.”

       Don’t want one. Don’t need one. How many ways can I say it before you believe me?

      Except for her adopted father, Nick Bradley, most of the men in Mary’s life had brought her pain and grief. However, the prospect of finding her a husband was her adopted grandmother’s favorite subject. As much as Mary loved Ada, this got old.

      “Balderdish! Every Amish woman needs a goot Amish husband.” Ada opened the oven door.

      “The word is balderdash.”

      Ada pulled a cake out using the folded corner of her black apron and dropped it on the stove top with a clatter. “Mein Englisch is goot. Do not change the subject. You will be nineteen in a few weeks. Do you want people to call you an alt maedel?”

      “I’ll be twenty, and I don’t care if people call me an old maid or not.”

      Ada frowned at her. “Zvansich?”

      “Ja. Hannah just turned four. That means I’ll be twenty.” Mary smiled at her daughter playing with an empty bowl and wooden spoon on the floor. She was showing her dog, Bella, how to make a cake. The yellow Lab lay watching intently, her big head resting on her paws. Mary could almost believe the dog was memorizing the instructions.

      Ada turned to the child. “Hannah, how old are you?”

      Grinning at her great-grandmother, Hannah held up four fingers. “This many.”

      Patting her chest rapidly, Ada faced Mary. “Ach! Then there is no time to lose. Delbert Miller is coming the day after tomorrow to fix the chicken haus. You must be nice to him.”

      Mary slapped one hand to her cheek. “You’re right. There’s no time to lose. I’ll marry him straightaway. If he doesn’t fall through that rickety roof and squish all our chickens.”

      She shook her head and began stirring again. “Go out with Delbert Miller? Not in a hundred years.”

      “I know he is en adlichah grohsah mann, but you should not hold that against him.”

      Mary rolled her eyes. “A fairly big man? Nee, he is a very big man.”

      “And are you such a prize that you can judge him harshly?”

      Mary stopped stirring and stared at the cuffs of her long sleeves. No matter how hot it got in the summer, she never rolled them up. They covered the scars on her wrists. The jagged white lines in her flesh were indisputable evidence that she had attempted suicide, the ultimate sin. Shame washed over her. “Nee, I’m not a prize.”

      A second later, she was smothered in a hug that threatened to coat her in batter. “Forgive me, child. That is not what I meant. You know that. You are the light in this old woman’s heart and your dear dochder is the sun and the stars.”

      Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

       God spared my life. He has forgiven my sins. I am loved and treasured by the new family He gave me. Bad things happened years ago, but those things gave me my beautiful child. She is happy here, as I dreamed she would be. I will not dwell in that dark place again. We are safe and that evil man is locked away. He can never find us here.

      Hannah came to join the group, tugging on Mary’s skirt and lifting her arms for a hug, too. Mary set her bowl on the counter and picked up her daughter. “You are the sun and the stars, aren’t you?”

      “Ja, I am.” Hannah gave a big nod.

      “You are indeed.” Ada kissed Hannah’s cheek and Mary’s cheek in turn. “You had better hurry or you will be late for the quilting bee. I’ll finish that batter. Are you taking Hannah?”

      “I am. She enjoys playing with Katie Sutter’s little ones.” Mary glanced at the clock in the corner. It was nearly four. The quilting bee was being held at Katie’s home. They were finishing a quilt as a wedding gift for Katie’s friend Sally Yoder. Sally planned to wed in the fall.

      “Who else is coming?”

      “Rebecca Troyer, Faith Lapp, Joann Weaver and Sarah Beachy. Betsy Barkman will be there, of course, and I think all her sisters will be, too.”

      Betsy Barkman was Mary’s dearest friend. They were both still single and neither of them was in a hurry to marry—something few people in their Amish community of Hope Springs understood. Especially Betsy’s sisters. Lizzie, Clara and Greta had all found husbands. They were impatiently waiting for their youngest sister to do the same. Betsy had been going out with Alvin Stutzman for over a year, but she wasn’t ready to be tied down.

      “Sounds like you’ll have a wonderful time. Make sure you bring me all the latest gossip.”

      “We don’t gossip.” Mary winked at her grandmother.

      “Ja, and a rooster doesn’t crow.”

      Shifting her daughter to her hip, Mary crossed the room and gathered their traveling bonnets from beside the door. She stood Hannah on a chair to tie the large black hat over her daughter’s silky blond crown of braids. As she did, she heard the distant rumble of thunder.

      Ada leaned toward the kitchen window to peer out. “There’s a storm brewing, from the looks of those clouds. The paper said we should expect strong storms today. You’d better hurry. If it’s bad, stay with the Sutters until it passes.”

      “I will.”

      “And you will be nice to Delbert when he visits.”

      “I’ll be nice to him. Unless he squashes any of our chickens,” Mary said with a cheeky grin.

      “Bothersome child. Get before I take a switch to your backside.” Ada shook the spoon at Mary. Speckles