Courting Her Secret Heart. Mary Davis
Читать онлайн.| Название | Courting Her Secret Heart |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Mary Davis |
| Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
| Серия | Prodigal Daughters |
| Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9781474085892 |
No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.
—Matthew 6:24
German Proverb: Wer zwei Hasen auf einmal jagt bekommt keinen.
“He who chases two rabbits at once will catch none.”
Dedicated to my awesome sister Deborah Spencer.
A special thanks to Melissa Endlich
and the editorial team at Love Inspired and to Sarah Joy Freese and WordServe Literary Agency. I’m so thankful to work with you!
Contents
Elkhart County, Indiana
Deborah Miller ran to the clump of bare sycamore trees at the far edge of the pond on her family’s property. Fortunately, the latest round of snow had melted and the ground had dried, so she wouldn’t be leaving tracks.
Several ducks squawked their disapproval of her presence. With indignation, they waddled and flapped onto the frozen water.
Deborah cringed. “Sorry to disturb you. I’ll bring you some bread crusts tomorrow.”
The largest tree in the grove had a tangle of many trunks from its base, creating an empty space in the center. She scurried over and dropped her green, tan and white camouflage backpack into the hollow. A sprinkle of dried leaves on top, and no one would ever find it. Truth be told, she could leave her pack out in the open and no one would likely notice it. It would blend in with the tree’s patchwork bark.
She took off for the house, running between the stubbly winter cornfield rows. She was going to be late. She’d lost track of time, which was her usual excuse, but this time it was true. She could be gone all day and no one in her family ever noticed her absence. Or if they did, they never mentioned it. Apparently, keeping track of so many girls was too much trouble to bother with. Seven. And she was right smack-dab in the middle. Not the oldest. Not the youngest. Not anything.
Of late, everyone was fussing over Hannah and Lydia, who were both planning to marry this fall. Although no one was supposed to know, since neither wedding would be officially announced until late summer or early fall, but a lot of celery would be planted in the garden this spring. After all, they couldn’t have Amish weddings without celery.
It had been a gut photo shoot today. The sun was shining, and though cold out, it had been a perfect day. Even if by some strange chance her absence had been noticed and she got scolded for being gone, it wouldn’t dampen her mood. Nothing could spoil today.
Deborah pulled her coat tighter around herself as she slowed down and entered the yard, finding it oddly quiet. She needed to look as though she hadn’t been in a hurry and just lost track of time, as usual.
Chickens pecked at the ground, but no people could be seen. Where was everyone? Were all her sisters in the house with Mutter? That was peculiar. One or two were often outside at this time of day. Unusual to have caught them all in the kitchen.
An Amish man came out of the barn, carrying two empty buckets.
Who was he? She’d never seen him before. Though dressed Amish, she had to wonder if he belonged to their community. His light brown hair peeked out from under his black felt hat. The brim shaded his face. Just the type of rugged Amish man that Hudson, her photographer, had repeatedly asked her to find for photo shoots. What was this stranger doing on their farm?
She approached him. “Who are you?” Her words puffed out on little white clouds.
“I’m Amos Burkholder. Who are you?” He smiled.
A warm, inviting, disarming smile. The kind that could make her forget her purpose. A smile she wouldn’t mind retreating into. She mentally shook herself free of his spell. “I’m Deborah Miller. I live here. What are you doing