At Home in Pleasant Valley Read online

  ACCLAIM FOR THE NOVELS OF MARTA PERRY

  “Sure to appeal to fans of Beverly Lewis.”

  —Library Journal

  “A large part of the pleasure of this book is in watching Rachel be Amish, as she sells snapdragons and pansies to both Amish and ‘English’ at an outdoor market, taking in snatches of Pennsylvania Dutch.”

  —The Philadelphia Inquirer

  “A tender novel of second chances, endearing characters, and a can’t-put-it-down story.”

  —Suzanne Woods Fisher, author of The Imposter

  “A born storyteller.”

  —Susan Meissner, author of Secrets of a Charmed Life

  “Perry carefully balances the traditional life of the Amish with the contemporary world in an accessible, intriguing fashion.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  Don’t Miss Marta Perry’s Keepers of the Promise Series

  The Forgiven

  The Rescued

  The Rebel

  Other Books by Marta Perry

  Pleasant Valley

  LEAH’S CHOICE

  RACHEL’S GARDEN

  ANNA’S RETURN

  SARAH’S GIFT

  KATIE’S WAY

  HANNAH’S JOY

  NAOMI’S CHRISTMAS

  The Lost Sisters of Pleasant Valley

  LYDIA’S HOPE

  SUSANNA’S DREAM

  Keepers of the Promise

  THE FORGIVEN

  THE RESCUED

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  AT HOME IN PLEASANT VALLEY

  Leah’s Choice copyright © 2009 by Martha Johnson.

  Rachel’s Garden copyright © 2010 by Martha Johnson.

  Anna’s Return copyright © 2010 by Martha Johnson.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  BERKLEY® and the “B” design are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  For more information, visit penguin.com.

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-98898-5

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley trade paperback edition / October 2015

  Cover illustration by Shane Rebenschied.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’d like to express my gratitude to those whose expertise, patience, and generosity helped me in the writing of this book: to Erik Wesner, whose Amish America newsletters are enormously helpful in visualizing aspects of daily life; to Donald Kraybill and John Hostetler, whose books are the definitive works on Amish life; to Louise Stoltzfus, Lovina Eicher, and numerous others who’ve shared what it means to be Amish; to the unnamed Plain People whose insights have enriched my life; and most of all to my family, for giving me a rich heritage upon which to draw.

  CONTENTS

  Acclaim for the Novels of Marta Perry

  Other Books by Marta Perry

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  Leah’s Choice

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Rachel’s Garden

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Anna’s Return

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Recipes

  Letter to the Reader

  About the Author

  GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES

  ach. oh; used as an exclamation

  agasinish. stubborn; self-willed

  ain’t so. A phrase commonly used at the end of a sentence to invite agreement.

  alter. old man

  anymore. Used as a substitute for “nowadays.”

  Ausbund. Amish hymnal. Used in the worship services, it contains traditional hymns, words only, to be sung without accompaniment. Many of the hymns date from the sixteenth century.

  befuddled. mixed up

  blabbermaul. talkative one

  blaid. bashful

  boppli. baby

  bruder. brother

  bu. boy

  buwe. boys

  daadi. daddy

  Da Herr sei mit du. The Lord be with you.

  denke. thanks (or danki)

  Englischer. one who is not Plain

  ferhoodled. upset; distracted

  ferleicht. perhaps

  frau. wife

  fress. eat

  gross. big

  grossdaadi. grandfather

  grossdaadi haus. An addition to the farmhouse, built for the grandparents to live in once they’ve “retired” from actively running the farm.

  grossmutter. grandmother

  gut. good


  hatt. hard; difficult

  haus. house

  hinnersich. backward

  ich. I

  ja. yes

  kapp. Prayer covering, worn in obedience to the Biblical injunction that women should pray with their heads covered. Kapps are made of Swiss organdy and are white. (In some Amish communities, unmarried girls thirteen and older wear black kapps during worship service.)

  kinder. kids (or kinner)

  komm. come

  komm schnell. come quick

  Leit. the people; the Amish

  lippy. sassy

  maidal. old maid; spinster

  mamm. mother

  middaagesse. lunch

  mind. remember

  onkel. uncle

  Ordnung. The agreed-upon rules by which the Amish community lives. When new practices become an issue, they are discussed at length among the leadership. The decision for or against innovation is generally made on the basis of maintaining the home and family as separate from the world. For instance, a telephone might be necessary in a shop in order to conduct business but would be banned from the home because it would intrude on family time.

  Pennsylvania Dutch. The language is actually German in origin and is primarily a spoken language. Most Amish write in English, which results in many variations in spelling when the dialect is put into writing! The language probably originated in the south of Germany but is common also among the Swiss Mennonite and French Huguenot immigrants to Pennsylvania. The language was brought to America prior to the Revolution and is still in use today. High German is used for Scripture and church documents, while English is the language of commerce.

  rumspringa. Running-around time. The late teen years when Amish youth taste some aspects of the outside world before deciding to be baptized into the church.

  schnickelfritz. mischievous child

  ser gut. very good (or sehr gut)

  tastes like more. delicious

  Was ist letz? What’s the matter?

  Wie bist du heit. How are you; said in greeting

  wilkom. welcome

  Wo bist du? Where are you?

  LEAH’S CHOICE

  This book is dedicated to my grandchildren: Bjoern, Greta, Ameline, Estella, Georgia, and Tyler, with much love from Grammy. And, as always, to Brian.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Knowing your proper place was a basic tenet of Amish life. Leah Beiler smiled as she watched her class of thirty-five scholars living out that belief. The number was up by three with the addition of the Glick children just today, and they were all in their assigned seats. Thirty-five heads bent over the work she’d set for her first- to eighth-graders, and not a whisper disturbed the stillness of the one-room school.

  Ten years of teaching had given Leah an extra sense where her scholars were concerned. Despite the quiet, excitement rippled through the room, even though no head lifted for a furtive look at the battery clock on her desk. The prospect of a picnic lunch to welcome the newcomers had everyone, including, she had to admit, the teacher, excited. It would be a welcome break in the usual routine, with the Christmas program now in the distant past and their end-of-school-year events not yet begun.

  The April weather had cooperated today, bathing Pleasant Valley, Pennsylvania, in sunshine rather than showers. Through the window, she could see the horses and buggies lined up outside that told her the scholars’ mothers had arrived with food for the picnic.

  She clapped her hands, amused at the alacrity with which pencils were put down. “It’s time for our picnic lunch now, scholars. We’ll eat first, and then there will be time to play. You may go outside.”

  It wasn’t necessary to add that they should go in an orderly manner. Order was another precept of Amish life, ingrained since birth. Pencils were in their grooves on the desktops and books were closed before the children stood, murmuring quietly among themselves, and filed toward the door.

  Leah followed her scholars between the rows of wood and wrought-iron desks, and out the door at the rear of the classroom that led onto a small porch and then to the schoolyard.

  The white school building, looking like every other Amish school she’d ever seen, stood in a grove of trees, its narrow dirt lane leading out to the main road, a good half mile away. The Esch farm lay to their east and the Brand farm to the west, so that the schoolhouse seemed to nestle in their protective, encircling arms.

  A trestle table had been set up under the oak tree that sheltered the yard. Her volunteer mothers and grandmothers, probably also happy with the break in routine, had spread it with a bountiful lunch—sandwich fixings of cheese, chicken, cold meat and bread, an array of salads, bowls of fruit, and jars of milk and lemonade. Trays of cupcakes and brownies were covered, reminding the children that dessert came last.

  Rachel Brand, Leah’s special friend since girlhood, hurried over, apron fluttering, to thrust a well-filled plate into her hands. “Leah, I fixed a plate for you already, ja. If you waited for everyone else to be served, you might miss my macaroni salad.”

  “Never,” she said, her pleasure at the day’s treat increased by the presence of the friend who was as dear to her as a sister. “It’s wonderful kind of you, Rachel, but we should be seeing to our guest of honor first.”

  Daniel Glick, the newcomer, stood out in the group, the only adult male in a bevy of women and children. If that bothered him, he didn’t show it. He was accepting a heaping plate from Leah’s mother, bending over her with courteous attention.

  “Your mamm is taking good care of him,” Rachel said. “And if she wasn’t, someone else would jump at the chance, for sure. A widower just come from Lancaster to join our community—you know every woman in Pleasant Valley will be thinking to match him up with a daughter or sister, they will.”

  “They’d do better not to matchmake. Daniel Glick looks well able to decide for himself if he needs a wife.”

  Daniel’s firm jaw and the determined set to his broad shoulders under the plain work shirt he wore suggested a man who knew what he wanted and who wouldn’t be easily deflected from his course. He was probably a gut hand at avoiding any unwanted matchmaking.

  Rachel, her blue eyes dancing with mischief as if they were ten again, nudged her. “You’d best tell that to your mamm, then. I expect she’s already inviting him to supper so he can get to know you.”

  “Me?” Her voice squeaked a bit, so she was glad that she and Rachel stood a little apart from the others. “Rachel, that’s foolish. Everyone has known for years that I’m a maidal.”

  “Years,” Rachel scoffed, her rosy cheeks growing rounder with amusement.

  Rachel did still look like the girl she’d once been, her kapp strings flying as they’d chased one another in a game in this same schoolyard. Leah couldn’t remember a time when Rachel hadn’t been part of her life. They’d shared enough joy and sorrow to bond them forever.

  “I know very well how old you are, Leah Beiler,” Rachel continued, “because we were born within a month of each other. And you are only an old maid if you want to be.”

  Leah crinkled her nose. “A maidal,” she said firmly. “And I’m a schoolteacher with a love of learning besides, which frightens men off.”

  Rachel’s smile slid away suddenly, and her smooth brow furrowed. “Leah, it would break my heart if I thought you meant to stay single all your life because of Johnny.”

  The name startled her, and it was all she could do to keep dismay from showing on her face. When Johnny Kile left Pleasant Valley, fence-jumping to the English world like too many young men, he’d left behind his family, including his twin sister, Rachel, who’d loved him dearly.

  And he’d left Leah, the girl he’d said he’d loved. The girl he’d planned to marry that November, once the harvest season was over.

  Many of those young men who left came back, penitent and ready to rejo
in the community, after a brief time in the English world. But not Johnny.

  She had to speak, or Rachel would think this more serious than it was. Close as they were, she didn’t want Rachel to know how Johnny’s loss had grieved her. It would only hurt Rachel, to no good end.

  “No, of course that’s not why. Johnny and I were no more than boy-and-girl sweethearts, you know that.”

  Rachel’s hand closed over hers in a brief, warm grip. “You loved him. That’s what I know.”

  “It was a long time ago,” she said firmly, shutting away bittersweet memories. “What has brought on thoughts of him today?”

  Rachel had not mentioned Johnny’s name since the day she’d run to the Beiler house, tears streaming down her cheeks, to tell Leah that he had gone. It had shamed his family, as well as grieved them, that he’d left in that way, with no word for his betrothed and only a short note for them.

  “No reason,” Rachel said, but her gaze drifted away from Leah’s.

  She set down the filled plate on the nearest table so she could grasp her friend’s wrist. “Rachel, tell me the truth.” It was the warning tone she used with her scholars when they attempted to evade a question.

  Rachel shook her head, dashing away a sudden tear. “My birthday is next week. Johnny’s birthday, too, of course. It reminds me.”

  “And it hurts,” Leah said softly. She knew about that pain.

  “I’m being foolish.” Rachel sniffed. “Here come your mamm and Daniel Glick to talk to you. I’d best see if any of those platters need filling.” She scurried off, giving no chance for Leah to say a word of comfort, even if she could think of one.

  For a moment the scene—the mothers serving food, chattering among themselves, the children eating quickly so they could scatter to swings, seesaw, and ball field—seemed to shimmer before her eyes. She was a girl again, hearing her sweetheart say he loved her.

  She took a breath, clenching her hands against the dark green apron that covered her dress. She wasn’t that girl in love any longer. She was a grown woman, a teacher, and she had to act like one.

  And here came her mother, towing the newcomer along with her. “Leah, here is the father of your new scholars. Daniel Glick, this is my daughter Leah.”