The Amish Widow's Heart (Brides 0f Lost Creek Book 4) Read online

  Can she put the past aside and love again?

  She can’t change the past...

  but can she choose a new beginning?

  To secure her young son’s future, widow Bethany Esch steps in to help Daniel Miller keep the store he owned with her late husband running smoothly. But she soon discovers her marriage hid a stunning secret. Though Daniel had no knowledge of her husband’s clandestine life, he’ll now do anything to help Beth. But can his steadfastness convince her to forgive—and love once more?

  Brides of Lost Creek

  “It’s my son’s future, Daniel,” Beth said quietly.

  “So that weighs against me selling the store.” She paused, seeming to consider her decision. “If it were just my concern, I’d turn the offer down.”

  Daniel nodded. That was only right. “Take your time, Beth. Talk to anyone you want. I’m not in any hurry. Whatever you decide, I won’t argue.”

  “Denke.” Relief flooded her face. “I don’t want to be at odds with you. No more misunderstandings between us—it’s much better to speak honestly, yah?”

  Daniel immediately thought of his promise—of the thing he should tell her but couldn’t. No. He corrected himself even as he had the thought. It wasn’t he who should tell Beth. She seemed to take his agreement for granted, so he didn’t have to speak.

  An image of the life he really wanted arose in Daniel’s mind—a picture of himself and Beth together, with Benjy growing up and working beside him. But given his secret, that now seemed very far away, if not impossible...

  A lifetime spent in rural Pennsylvania and her Pennsylvania Dutch heritage led Marta Perry to write about the Plain People, who add so much richness to her home state. Marta has seen nearly sixty of her books published, with over six million books in print. She and her husband live in a centuries-old farmhouse in a central Pennsylvania valley. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, traveling, baking or enjoying her six beautiful grandchildren.

  Books by Marta Perry

  Love Inspired

  Brides of Lost Creek

  Second Chance Amish Bride

  The Wedding Quilt Bride

  The Promised Amish Bride

  The Amish Widow’s Heart

  An Amish Family Christmas

  “Heart of Christmas”

  Amish Christmas Blessings

  “The Midwife’s Christmas Surprise”

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  THE AMISH WIDOW’S HEART

  Marta Perry

  With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

  —Ephesians 4:2–3

  This story is dedicated, as always,

  to the love of my life, my husband, Brian.

  Contents

  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

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from The Wrangler’s Last Chance by Jessica Keller

  Chapter One

  Bethany Esch looked at her husband’s black jackets, hanging from the wooden pegs on the bedroom wall, and her heart failed her. She took a hasty step backward, bumping into the large box her cousin Lydia was carrying, and fought the panic that filled her.

  Lydia dropped the box onto the double bed, catching Bethany’s arm when she would have fled from the room, her lively face sobering when she saw Bethany’s expression.

  “Beth?” Lydia shook her arm lightly. “Komm now. It’s time we got busy.”

  “No, I can’t. It’s too soon.”

  Lydia knew her so well. Why didn’t she see that Bethany couldn’t get rid of James’s clothes? Not yet.

  “It’s been over a month.” Lydia hugged her as if to soften the words, but nothing could really ease them. James was gone.

  “I know it’s hard, but you’ll feel better once it’s done, and James’s things will be a blessing to someone else.”

  The tears that came so easily filled Beth’s eyes. “It doesn’t feel like a month. It feels like yesterday.”

  She lived it again—the township police officer coming to the door late in the evening, his face somber, his voice halting as he described the accident: the Englisch driver going too fast on the narrow road, young and careless, unable to stop when he saw the buggy light.

  “I know.” Lydia’s hand stroked her back in a comforting gesture. “The accident was such a shock. That makes it much worse. But...”

  Beth wiped tears away with her fingers. Lydia was right, she supposed. James’s death would be easier to face once she didn’t have constant reminders. Easier for Benjy, too, and that was the force that strengthened her spine. At four, Benjy didn’t understand, but he was beginning to accept the fact that Daadi wouldn’t be coming home anymore.

  She could hear him now, giggling at something her niece Janie had said. Fourteen and the child of Beth’s oldest brother, Janie had been a treasure over the past month, showing up often to watch Benjy or take him to play with her little brothers and sister.

  “Yah, okay.” She straightened, trying to find a smile. “You’re right. I certain sure can’t let Benjamin see me falling apart.”

  “Gut.” Lydia gave a brisk nod of approval. “The sooner we start, the sooner we’re done. You hand things to me, and I’ll fold and pack.”

  Taking the first jacket from its hook was the hardest. This was the jacket James wore for worship, and she’d always thought he looked so handsome in it, his fair hair even lighter against the black wool. She forced herself to hand it on quickly, resisting the urge to press it against her face.

  Somehow, once she’d done the first one, the action became easier. She was helped along by Lydia’s constant flow of chatter, talking about the latest news running through the Amish grapevine of Lost Creek—who was harvesting a big crop of celery, hinting at a wedding soon, how her daad’s vegetable stand was doing now that fall was coming on, who had missed worship last Sunday and why. Lydia, with her lively personality and ready laugh, was a good antidote to pain.

  “Did I tell you I have a letter from Miriam?” she said now. “She actually got it out quickly this time. I’ve already added my share, so you can do yours and put it in the mail.”

  “I’ll try,” she said, although writing a newsy letter felt like an impossible chore just now.

  Miriam Stoltzfus, the third of their trio of cousins, had moved out to Ohio to stay with an aunt and uncle several months ago, and they both missed her. Their round-robin letters weren’t a good substitute for seeing her.

  The three of them had been closer than sisters since they were babies sleeping on their mammis’ laps during worship, born within weeks of each other. Better than sisters, maybe, because they didn’t have the rivalry some sisters did: Lydia, lively and mischievous; Miriam, quick and daring; and her, always trying to keep the other two out of trouble.

  “You know what Grossmammi would say,” Lydia said. “Don’t try, just do it.”

  Beth actually did smile over that—Lydia had caught th
eir grandmother’s attitude perfectly. Grossmammi never shrank from any task, no matter how difficult. She had shrunk with age, and her memory might be a little misty, but nothing could quench her spirit. Would Beth ever reach that calm acceptance of what came?

  With the hanging clothes packed away, Beth turned to the bureau. It was easier, she found, if she picked things up without concentrating too much on what they were and just passed them on to Lydia. The very act of doing something positive seemed to be lifting her spirits, making her pay attention to what was going on around her.

  Family and church members had been in and out constantly for the past month, taking over so much that there’d been little she had to do. And Daniel, James’s partner in the general store, had taken care of everything there. She was better for something to do.

  At some point she had to talk to Daniel and make some decisions about the store, but not yet.

  She reached for the last few items in the drawer, her fingers touching something that wasn’t cloth. Paper crinkled under her fingers.

  Curious, she pulled it out of the drawer to look at. A half sheet of paper, torn off and folded. Frowning, she flipped it open, read the few words it contained and felt her heart freeze.

  Beth stared at the penciled words, trying to comprehend, but her brain felt as chilled as her heart. She forced herself to concentrate, reading the words as slowly as if they were in a language she barely knew.

  I have to see you one more time. Meet me tomorrow night at the usual place. Please. Don’t fail me.

  There was no signature, only a penciled heart shape. No name. No date. But the meaning was clear, wasn’t it?

  “Beth? What’s wrong? Tell me.” Lydia’s arms came around her, and she sounded almost frightened. Beth knew she must look terrible. As terrible as she felt.

  “I can’t.” She stammered the words out and thrust the paper toward Lydia, glad to have it out of her hand. She clung to a faint hope that Lydia would see something different in the words...something that wouldn’t shatter her heart and grind it to dust.

  Lydia gasped, and then she was silent, probably trying to take it in as Beth had done.

  “Maybe...” Lydia was hesitant, her blue eyes dark and troubled. “Maybe it doesn’t mean what it seems to.”

  She didn’t sound as if she believed that any more than Beth did.

  “What else could it mean?” Anger and pain broke through the ice that encased her. “Someone...some woman...was meeting James on the sly. The usual place—what else could that mean?”

  “Maybe...” Lydia faltered, clearly trying to think of some explanation that wouldn’t hurt as much. “Well, maybe it was just someone who had a crush on James. He was attractive, and he could be charming, but it didn’t mean anything. You were the one he loved.”

  She clung to the words. That was true enough, she supposed. James’s charm had been what had drawn her to him, back when they were teenagers. With his laughing eyes and his enticing smile, he’d had all the girls in a tizzy at one time or another. But he’d chosen her. He’d married her, promising to be faithful.

  Something in her hardened against the pain and grief that threatened to envelop her. He’d promised to be faithful in front of God and the church.

  “He was meeting this woman, whoever she was,” she said firmly. She couldn’t ignore the obvious. “That’s not an old note—the pencil marks are still dark. Besides, I cleaned everything in this drawer not that long ago.”

  Her mind started to work again, remembering when that had been. Her gaze met Lydia’s. “That was no more than a week before the accident. That note wasn’t in the drawer then.”

  Lydia didn’t speak. Most likely she couldn’t think of another explanation, any more than Beth could. James had been seeing another woman just before he died. It was incredible. Impossible. But it had happened.

  “That night,” Beth murmured, almost speaking to herself. “He said he’d be working late in the store. What was he doing out on Owl Hollow Road? I never even thought about that...never questioned it.”

  “You think it was the night the note refers to?” Lydia understood her quickly. “But you can’t be sure of that. And you can’t go around asking people.” She sounded horrified at the thought.

  “No, I can’t go around asking.” Pain forced the words out as she realized what this would mean for her. “I can only go on wearing black and pretending. No one must ever know, especially not Benjy.”

  No matter what she felt, she couldn’t damage Benjy’s memory of his daadi. No matter how much it cost her.

  But there was one thing she could do. She could find out if Daniel knew where James had gone the night he was supposed to be working at the store. Daniel was James’s best friend as well as his partner. If anyone knew James’s secret, it was Daniel.

  * * *

  Daniel Miller turned from restocking the canned goods shelf to check the time. The plain round clock on the back wall of the store showed nearly four. Since they closed at five, business should be quiet for the next hour. Time for him to make the visit he’d been putting off for weeks—a visit to Bethany, James’s widow.

  He still couldn’t get used to that word. Widow. They were too young to be experiencing this—it was for old people. If it affected him that way, how much harder must Beth be finding it?

  Shaking off the question, he rounded the end of the shelves and approached the cash register, where Anna Fisher was taking advantage of their lack of customers to clean the glass-fronted cabinet.

  “Anna?”

  She glanced up, her round, youthful face responding. “Yah? Something you want me to do, Daniel?”

  “Just keep an eye on things for me. I have to run an errand.” He smiled, nodding toward the battery section, where his nephew Timothy was replacing batteries in their proper bins. “And you might take a look at those shelves when Timothy finishes. Just in case.”

  Anna nodded. Fourteen-year-old Timothy had been helping out for only a couple of weeks. They’d needed an extra pair of hands once James was gone.

  Timothy was eager, but not always accurate. Still, Anna was responsible, not flighty like most sixteen-year-old girls, and she’d been working in the store for over a year.

  “I’ll manage everything. Don’t worry.” She was obviously pleased at being left in charge, but a trace of apprehension showed. “You’ll be back to close up, yah?”

  “For sure. No worries.”

  He headed for the door, pausing a moment outside to admire, as always, the General Store sign. They had a good location—he and James had decided the lot between their two properties at the end of Main Street would be just right for the business that was just a dream six years ago.

  They’d surmounted plenty of obstacles on the way to making the dream a reality. He’d just never thought he’d be carrying on alone, without James. Pain clenched his heart. James had been his best friend since they’d entered first grade at Creekside Amish School together.

  Funny, when he stopped to think about it, that they had linked up so quickly. He was one of seven, growing up on the ninety-acre farm that spread out from the road to the ridge that overlooked the village of Lost Creek. He sometimes felt lost in the midst of siblings, and it had been startling to realize that James’s life was so different from his, even though they were part of the same church district.

  James’s mother was a widow, and James her only child. They lived right in town, and at six, James had known little of the farm life that was so routine for Daniel. But still, they’d been best friends, and when James married Bethany and they bought her great-uncle’s holding and orchard, they became neighbors, as well.

  The lane at the side of the store led back to Beth’s property. Daniel strode along, noticing the signs of autumn beginning to show in the yellowing fields and the bright plumes of the sumac bushes. The leaves hadn’t begun to turn yet, and the wea
ther held sunny and warm, but the children were back in school and autumn was on the way. He could see the glint of red here and there in the apple orchard that covered the lower slopes beyond the farmhouse where Beth and little Benjamin now lived alone.

  As usual, he felt a twinge at the thought of Beth. How would she manage without James? And just as important, what would she want to do about her share of the store?

  He had his own ideas about that, that was for sure. He’d been Beth’s friend even longer than he’d known James, since she’d spent a lot of time at her great-uncle’s place. In fact, if she hadn’t caught James’s eye when she did, he might have been the one...

  Well, there was no point in letting his thoughts stray in that direction. His task now was to do his best for Beth and her son.

  As he neared the house, he caught sight of Benjy in the backyard, tossing a ball back and forth with Janie Stoltzfus, Beth’s niece. Instead of heading for the back door, he veered to join them.

  “Looks like a gut game. Can I play, too?”

  “Catch the ball, Daniel,” Benjy shouted, obviously pleased to have the game enlarged. With his silky straight blond hair and his round, chubby face, he still looked a little like the baby he’d been such a short time ago.

  Would he have to grow up faster now that his daadi was gone? And at four, how much did Benjy actually realize about death? Daniel didn’t have any answers, but he knew that Beth would do her best to protect him. And he would, as well. He owed it to his friend.

  Benjy tossed the ball short of Daniel, and he had to sprint forward to catch it.

  “Benjy’s getting better all the time,” Janie said, laughter in her eyes.

  Nodding, Daniel sent a soft underhand toss in Benjy’s direction. He put it right on target, and Benjy’s gratified surprise at catching it made him smile.

  “I got it. Did you see, Janie? I caught it.”

  “Yah, gut job,” Janie responded. “Now throw it to me.”