Hometown Cinderella: Hometown Cinderella\The Inn at Hope Springs (27 page)

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Authors: Patricia Davids,Ruth Axtell Morren

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #United States, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Christianity, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Hometown Cinderella: Hometown Cinderella\The Inn at Hope Springs
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Chapter Nine

A
dam watched the color bloom in Emma’s cheeks. She stuttered, “I—I was seeing to the horse, that’s all. You don’t have to clear our walks. I was getting to that.”

“I don’t mind. Your mother asked me to fix the boot scraper, but the metal is old and rusty. You would be better off buying a new one from the hardware store.”

“You astonish me. There is actually something you can’t fix?”

He laughed. “
Jah,
so I am clearing the walkway instead before I go home for the weekend. If you need help with your stable work I’ll be glad to lend a hand.”

“No. I can manage. Cream doesn’t need much care.”

He chuckled. “Your horse’s name is Cream? Is she white?”

The glimmer of humor filled her eyes. “No. Her previous owner’s little girl named her Marshmallow Cream because of the spot of white on her black nose. That’s a mouthful so I just call her Cream.”

“Kids have such wonderful imaginations. Not like the old folks that only think of work, work, work.”

The sparkle in her eyes died. “I trust you’ve been busy?”

Had he just implied she was old? He wanted to kick himself. “I did fix the two broken shutters on the lower-floor windows.”

Walking in that direction, he indicated his work. “When the spring comes you should have them painted again. They’re getting pretty weathered.”

“I was thinking of taking them off. They are too fancy for my liking.”

“But they are quaint and that is what the tourists like. It must be a hard line for you to walk. Running a business for the English and an Amish home.”

“The tourists say they want an ‘Amish experience,’ but they also want electric lights, central heat and internet access.”

“And for you, is it hard to go home to your gas lamps and no central heat?”

“Some cold mornings make me wish I could sleep in one of the inn’s empty beds.”

“Why don’t you?”

Her gaze snapped up to his. “I take the vows of my faith seriously. It would be easy to stay at the inn. My cold feet would feel better but what good would it do my soul if I let temptation bend me hither and yon like the wind does a reed?
Nee,
I will not go against the teaching of our faith.”

“You are a wise woman. I lived a long time in the English world. It didn’t do my soul any good.”

Chapter Ten

A
dam didn’t know why he felt the need to share his past with this woman. She would likely think the same thing his father did. That he would run back to the worldly ways of the English when things got tough.

“What made you leave the Amish?” Emma asked quietly.

He wanted her to think well of him, but he knew she would hear the story someday. It would be best if it came from him. He gathered his courage. Laying his foolishness bare for her to see was harder than climbing to any height.

He took a deep breath. “When I was young, the outside world seemed glamorous. Full of forbidden fun and overflowing with things like cars and televisions and video games. I wanted to be a part of it. I felt smothered in my life on the farm. Did you ever feel that way?”

Emma shook her head. “
Nee,
I have not. I believed our Plain lives bring us closer to God. I find much comfort in our ways.”

“I had a brother, Jason, who felt the same as I did. We went to work for an English construction company because my family needed the money after a poor summer crop. The pay was good. I even learned to drive a car and I bought one.
Dat
hated it and soon stopped taking the money we brought home. When I wouldn’t give up my car, he made me move out. My brother came with me.”

“How sad that must have been for all of you.”

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “It was hardest on my mother.”

“Is that why you came back?”


Nee,
I was too stubborn for that. My boss liked me. He taught me all about building things, fixing things, even how to work on a car, but during those years I missed the rest of my family. My mother wrote asking us to return, but we never did. Then, a year ago she died suddenly. My brother and I came home for the funeral, but
Dat
would not speak to us. So we went back to the city.”

“That doesn’t explain how you came to be in Hope Springs.”

“Two months ago, Jason and I were working on a scaffold when it collapsed. He fell three stories. I managed to hold on to a cable until I was rescued. As I was swinging there, my fingers growing numb and slipping, I heard my mother whisper in my ear. She said, ‘Hang on, Adam, God has other plans for you.’ I’m not making it up, I heard her voice.”

“I believe you. What happened to your brother?”

“He was killed instantly. After that, I came back to my
dat’
s farm.” To another funeral and an empty ache that never went away.

The accident and the loss of his brother had forced Adam to reevaluate his own life. His Amish roots had been strangled by his sense of self-importance and the money his high-paying job brought in. He had left God behind for a fat paycheck and a used car.

“I’m so sorry.” Emma’s breath rose in frosty puffs. Her cheeks glowed rosy pink from the cold, but she made no move to go inside. Sympathy filled her eyes as tears gathered in the corners. He sensed she understood the terrible price he’d paid for his folly.

Suddenly, he became aware of a connection between them, something he’d never felt before with any woman. How could he have thought she was plain? There was so much beauty and peace in her eyes.

“Your
dat
must have been happy to have you home.”

Sadly, Adam shook his head. “
Nee.
He’s not convinced that I’ve changed. He thinks I will run back to my good job and easy life if I can’t earn a decent living here.”

“Will you?” she asked, an odd quality in her tone.

“I will not go back to my English ways. I won’t lie, I miss some things about that life, but now God is with me every day.”

“Your
dat
will see that in time.”

“I’m not sure. He forgave me for the pain I brought on our family, but he no longer trusts me. I would do almost
anything
to be worthy of his respect again.”

Chapter Eleven

T
he winter sky held only a hint of pink in the east as Emma pulled open the barn door on Monday morning. Under her arm, she carried a rubber hot-water bottle. Even through her coat she could feel its warmth. It reminded her of the warmth that had enveloped her when Adam shared so much about his life.

She stood there thinking about him, about his struggle with his faith, and the way he’d chosen to share it with her touched her deeply. She couldn’t
stop
thinking about him.

Inside the dark stable, she paused to light a lantern on the workbench beside the door. She held it high to light her way past the black buggy to the single stall beyond it. A soft whinny from Cream welcomed her as the mare did every morning.

Hanging the lamp from the hook, Emma checked the water tank, happy to see only a skim of ice on the surface. The temperature was still below freezing, but not by much. After doling out the mare’s grain and cleaning the stall, Emma quickly climbed the ladder into the hayloft. It was warmer up where the hay trapped the heat from the horse’s body below. A sudden chorus of mewing erupted from a wooden box covered with a scrap of blanket in the corner.

“I’m here, little ones, don’t cry.” Emma sat cross-legged on the floor and raised the edge of the blanket. The mewing cries rose in volume.

She pulled out the cool water bottle and unwrapped it from a length of gray flannel. Laying it aside, she wrapped the warm bottle she carried and tucked it in the box for the four tiny kittens crawling around in search of her and their breakfast.

“You are so impatient,” Emma crooned as she picked them up, one by one, and settled them in the well of her skirt between her knees. The biggest one, a yellow fellow with long fur, began climbing her coat with his needle-sharp claws.

Emma swaddled him in another length of flannel and pulled a doll bottle full of the special formula the vet had given her from her pocket. It took several tries before he got hold of the nipple.

“Look at you. You’ve got more milk on your face than in your tummy.” The others had settled back to sleep in a multicolored ball in her lap.

To her complete surprise, the kittens seemed to be thriving. Each time she made her way to the loft she expected to discover the worst. The two-hour feedings had stretched to three hours now that they had put on some weight.

They had been only a day or two old when she found them. The local vet discouraged her from trying to hand-raise a litter of barn cats, but when she insisted he gave her the supplies she needed. Along with instructions, he gave her one piece of advice. He said, “Don’t get attached to them because it will only bring you grief when they die.”

Grief was nothing new to her. She took the supplies and followed his instructions to the letter. Now the kittens were her special secret. Her barnyard babies.

Not real babies. Not like the ones she would have had if William had lived, but they had mewed and wiggled and clawed their way into her heart. They were so helpless. They needed her, as she needed them. Even more than she knew.

A sudden noise made her look toward the ladder. Someone was coming up.

Chapter Twelve

A
dam’s head appeared in the hayloft opening. Emma’s heart sank. Her secret wasn’t a secret anymore. Now he and everyone else would know how foolish the old maid, Emma Wadler, had become.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, masking her embarrassment with annoyance.

In the light of the single lantern, his hat cast a dark shadow across his eyes. She couldn’t read his expression. After a moment of silence, he said, “Your
mamm
asked me to help you with chores so we can get going to the auction. Now I see why you’ve been coming up here so often. How many kittens are there?”

A blush heated Emma’s face and neck but at least he wasn’t laughing at her. “Four.”

He climbed up to sit beside her. “What a cute bunch. How old are they?”

“About six days, I think.”

“How long have you been taking care of them?”

“Five days.”

“What happened to their
mamm?
” He lifted a gray one from her lap and cuddled it close to his chest.

Her nervousness began to fade. “She was run over on the street in front of the house. I didn’t even know she’d had kittens until I went to the stable later in the day and heard their mewing.”

The kitten he held began making pitiful cries. “It must have broken your heart to hear them.”

“It did.”

Even knowing the odds were slim that they would live, Emma had soon found herself armed with a hot-water bottle, a box with high sides and a kitten-size baby bottle with cat-milk formula and a round-the-clock routine.

Raising the kitten to face level, he said, “They look healthy. You are a
goot mudder,
but why not take them into the house?”


Mamm
is highly allergic to cats.”

“Oh, no.” He started to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” she chided, but she felt like laughing, too.

He quickly grew serious. “Show me what to do and I will help.”

She looked at him in astonishment. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course. You can’t be scurrying out here day and night. You have a business to run. I will help during the day.”

The idea of taking a break sounded wonderful, but could she trust him to do a good job with her babies? She didn’t want all her hard work to be undone by his carelessness.

Apparently, he read her indecision because he said, “You should watch me the first few times to make sure I’m doing it right.”

For some reason she did trust him. She demonstrated how to swaddle them inside a piece of cloth, how to get the bottle into their mouths, even how to burp them and clean up after them before returning them to their box. She fed one more so he could observe and then he fed the other two.

When they were done and the kittens all returned to the box, he said, “We’d better hurry or we will be late for the start of the auction.”

Spending the day in his company—in public—suddenly became a frightening prospect. She rubbed her hands over her arms. “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

Chapter Thirteen

A
dam saw his plans for the day unraveling before they got started. The picnic basket and thermos of hot chocolate under the front seat of his buggy would stay where they were. “What do you mean you aren’t going?”

“I have work to do here.”

“Naomi said she can run the inn while you are gone.”

“I know she can, but I have the kittens to think of, too.”

She walked past him and began to descend the ladder. He followed, feeling their closeness draining away. What had he done wrong? “The Yoder farm isn’t that far. We can come back to feed them and then return to the auction.”

“It’s silly to make so many trips. I’m staying here. You go on.” She pushed open the barn door and walked out into the crisp morning sunshine.

“I was only going because Naomi asked me to drive you. I’ll go patch that hole in the dining room wall.”

Apparently, the connection he’d felt between them went only one way. From him to nowhere. His disappointment was as sharp as the kittens’ claws.

She spun around. “I forbid you to work today. You are to go to the auction, eat good food, visit with your friends. Your cousins are going, aren’t they?”

The auction would be one of the biggest social events of the winter. The weather was cold but the sun was shining brightly. Families would come from miles around, English and Amish alike, to support the Yoder family and have the chance to pick up a bargain. Even his father might be there.

She took a step closer. “You should go.”

Sucking in a quick breath, he said, “I would like to go, but only if you go with me. Please, Emma.”

Her eyes softened; he could see her wavering. Before she could reply, her mother came bustling out of the house, a large box in her arms. She made straight for his buggy. He had no choice but to rush over and open the door for her.

Naomi said, “
Danki.
You two should get on the road. Emma, I’ve decided I want you to bid on the ice cream maker and on the pressure cooker.”

She laid the box on the floor of Adam’s buggy and held out her hand. “Here is the money.”

When Emma didn’t move, Naomi pressed the bills at her and began pulling her toward the buggy. “If you don’t hurry you could miss the household items. Oh, I can’t be out in this cold for long. It makes my bones hurt. I’m so glad you’re going for me, Emma. And thank you for driving her, Adam. I won’t worry about her a bit in your company.”

Adam climbed in and extended his hand to Emma. For a second, he thought she was going to refuse, but suddenly Naomi began sneezing. Emma sprang into the vehicle and closed the door between them.

With a hidden smile, Adam slapped the reins against the horse’s rump and sent him trotting down the street.

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