Holding a Tender Heart
Read Holding a Tender Heart Online
Authors: Jerry S. Eicher
HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover photos
©
Chris Garborg; Bigstock / alexmak72427
Cover by Garborg Design Works, Savage, Minnesota
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
HOLDING A TENDER HEART
Copyright © 2014 by Jerry S. Eicher
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.HarvestHousePublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Eicher, Jerry S.
Holding a tender heart / Jerry S. Eicher.
pages cm.â(The Beiler Sisters ; Book 1)
ISBN 978-0-7369-5511-9 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-5512-6 (eBook)
1. SistersâFiction. 2. AmishâFiction. I. Title.
PS3605.I34H65 2014
813'.6âdc23
2013016743
All rights reserved.
No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any otherâwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author's and publisher's rights is strictly prohibited.
Contents
D
ebbie Watson slowed her Toyota Camry as she neared the buggy ahead of her. She'd often done this, living as she did in Snyder County's Amish country. And after all this time, she still didn't resent the Plain people and their old-fashioned buggies. In fact, she wondered what it would be like to actually drive one.
Of course, she knew part of the answer. She'd grown up next door to an Amish familyâthe Beilersâand though she was
Englisha
, the Beilers had invited her to ride with them on more than one occasion. On a few Saturday afternoons she'd driven into Mifflinburg with Verna, the eldest of the three Beiler girls, to buy groceries for Verna's mother, Saloma.
Those times had been peaceful as she listened to the steady clip-clop of hooves striking the pavement as they drove along. The soft sounds weren't drowned out even when motorized vehicles passed the buggyâsome of them accompanied by loud roars of their engines. Thankfully the locals and occasional tourists were mostly respectful of the area's Amish community and behaved accordingly.
When a car did roar by, Buttercup, one of the Beilers' driving horses, would shake her head at such rude interruptions, as if the noise were too much for her tender ears. She spent most of her life in a quiet barnyard or a pasture with plenty of grass, got extra
feed when she had to work, and was fed delicious hay in the winter months. It was a life to be enviedâas was the life of all the Beilers, as far as Debbie was concerned.
Life was hectic in her
Englisha
worldâat least most of the time. Hopefully now that she was graduating from college in Lancaster on Saturday, her life might calm down a bit. But she had a job interview in Lewistown tomorrow. If she were hiredâ¦well, maybe her life wouldn't be as calm as she was hoping. The job interview was with a Mr. Fulton, a friend of Debbie's dad. Would Mr. Fulton really take her on? Would he think her qualified with only her college education? Wouldn't he ask about her lack of experience? It was hard to tell. But Mr. Fulton had given her the best of wishes for her graduation and a warm smile when she'd dropped off the application.
Did she want a job that her dad arranged for her? Not really. But there were few other options, and she needed a job now that college was overâand they were scarce. Of all the applications she'd filled out, Mr. Fulton was the only one to offer her an interview. Had her mom pushed her dad to speak to Mr. Fulton? Had her dad pulled strings? It was possible since they were good friends. But she didn't dare ask Mr. Fulton or her parents such a thing. And what was so wrong if her dad
had
spoken with Mr. Fulton? Her parents loved her and only wanted to help out. She should be humble enough to appreciate their efforts and take the job if it were offered.
If her mom was behind this, she meant no harm. But even so, it made Debbie feel smothered. Even the decision to go to college had been more her mother's than hers. But now that college was behind her, shouldn't she make some decisions for herself?
Debbie grimaced as two vehicles behind her pulled out to pass her and probably the buggy ahead of her. Why were people in such a hurry? If the truth were known, Debbie would have traded her car for the buggy she was staring at. She would trade her job prospects and even her college degree for the contentment she saw in the Beiler family and the other Amish within their community.
But how could that ever be? Her parents had their expectations of her. A college degree, a good job, money, and eventually marriage to a nice man who was a good social match. A man like Doug Williams. Oh, Doug was nice enough, but he didn't understand her any more than her parents did. The truth was that neither Debbie's parents nor Doug really wanted what she wanted. That too was a problem from her mother's point of view, along with Debbie's “lack of drive and motivation.” Debbie didn't fit into the world her mother circulated in. The two were so different from each other. There was no question about that. Her mom had even said Debbie needed an awakening of some sort.
Debbie sighed. She knew she couldn't do much about being different. It wasn't like she hadn't tried. She'd gone to college. But even that was only a small victory for her mother. She'd wanted Debbie to go to Penn State or maybe even one of the Ivy League schools. Her mother had simply sighed and relented when Debbie had been accepted at Franklin & Marshall in Lancaster, one of the oldest colleges in Pennsylvania. Her dad had been on her side, reminding her mother how well esteemed the small college was.
What would either of them say if she told them the truth? That college really didn't matter that much to her. She wanted a simpler lifeâone like the Beilers led. She had never said those words out loud in her parents' presence, but she supposed she didn't have to. Surely it was evident enough in the way she lived. Conservative and quiet, she hadn't dashed around to wild parties on weekends like most of the high school and college students did. Her dad wrote this off to her religious life, which both parents knew was vibrant.
Out of politeness she did go to the Baptist church with her mother every Sunday when home from school. But even that she credited to the Amish and not to her mother. As for being a Baptist herselfâ¦well, her heart wasn't in it. Oh, they were fine people, but they weren't living the life Debbie wanted for herself. What she longed for was a faith to call her own. Something like the Beiler
family's faith. From the time she was a small girl, the Beilers' lifestyle had made her feel the closeness of God. They did this by the way they lived and their simple trust that God would take care of them.
Debbie leaned back in the seat as the buggy turned off the road and she was able to speed up. Oh, if only she'd been born into an Amish family and had somehow been switched at birth. That would explain her longing for Amish life. But, really, the idea was ridiculous! Debbie Watson born into an Amish family? There were too many things that argued against it. Her baby pictures, her birth certificate, the family resemblance. She was
Englisha
born, but her heart was Amish. That was all there was to it.
