Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) (34 page)

“Amazing…just amazing.” Jeremy shook his head then glanced at his watch. “Say, if we want to drop by Jenny’s place, we need to go. It’s just a few miles from here.”

Richard and Jeremy pulled into the lane off Leacock Road. They drove down the long driveway up to the house. Richard took off his sunglasses and stared at the house.

“What a beautiful place, Jeremy.”

“Yes, it is. Jenny inherited it from her grandfather.”

Far off in the distance, they heard what sounded like gunshots.

“Sounds like someone’s hunting.”

Jeremy got out, walked up on the porch, and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so he knocked again. When nobody answered, he went off the porch and walked around the side of the house. In a minute he came back.

“I was hoping she was out in her garden, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone home. I’ll leave a note. Sorry you don’t get to meet her.”

“Me too, Jeremy. Me too.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-F
OUR

The Proposal

J
ENNY AND
L
EM CAME HOME
from their trip to the General Store. She grabbed some bags from the buggy and walked up on the porch. A business card stuck out from between the door and the jamb. She pulled it out. It was Jeremy King’s card. There was a note on the back.

Jenny wondered who the “we” was as she went inside.

Bobby and Rachel returned shortly after Jenny got home. Rachel was a mess. Her clothes were dirty, her
kappe
was askew, and her hair had lost most of its bun and was dangling down in long strands. She was filthy, but there was a huge grin on her face.

“Uncle Bobby taught me to shoot. It was the greatest fun, Mama, but my shoulder is so sore!”

Jenny smiled at her precocious child. “Lem told me you two were
going to go shoot. I can see that Uncle Bobby must have had you crawling through the underbrush.”

“Jenny, Rachel is a crack shot. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Bobby leaned two guns against the wall. “I gave her a few pointers, and then she started knocking down everything she aimed at.”

“Well, her father was an Eagle Scout marksman when he was in the Boy Scouts. And being around you and Papa, something must have rubbed off.”

“Uncle Bobby said I could go with them tomorrow to shoot some turkeys. Can I, Mama?”

“If it’s all right with Uncle Bobby, you can go. But isn’t it going to be hard in a dress?”

“I was thinking I might wear some jeans, Mama.”

“Rachel, you cannot even think about wearing jeans until your
rumspringa
. You are only fourteen and you need to dress proper Amish.”

“But, Mama, it will be so hard to crawl around in this dress!”

“If you want to go, that is how you will dress. Perhaps you should just stay home.”

“If I have to be stuck with such stupid rules, maybe I don’t want to be Amish!” Rachel’s voice rose.

“Rachel!”

Before Jenny could finish, Rachel stomped off to her room, leaving Jenny and Bobby in an awkward silence.

Jenny sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed her forehead. “Great! I thought maybe I’d get to wait on dealing with a rebellious teenager until she was a little older.”

Bobby slid into a chair beside her. “Jenny, Rachel is a good kid. She seems to have her head on straight.”

“Mostly, Bobby, but we actually have a real conflict going on that has strained things between us. When she finished
schule
this spring,
she was told she couldn’t continue. Amish girls and boys only go until the eighth grade. Rachel was heartbroken. She desperately wants to continue her education.”

“And you’ve been having a fight over it?”

“Yes, Bobby, and it breaks my heart. When I finished school, I was working on a big project about the history of the Amish in Ohio. I wanted to keep going with it, and the local librarian offered me an internship so I could have everything I needed, but
Daed
was against it. Only after the elders intervened did Papa give his permission. So I was able to continue my education. Now Rachel wants to do the same thing, and I have to say no. I feel like a hypocrite.”

“Why can’t she keep studying at home?”

“I’ve suggested that, but she had her heart set on taking some classes in animal husbandry over at the community college. It’s driven a wedge between us, and now, here I am, an Amish widow writing books, with my beloved
Englischer
uncle living on my place and a teenager dealing with her hormones who thinks her mother is crushing her dreams. It’s a little
beunruhigend
…a little unsettling. Maybe the elders are right.”

“Right about what?”

“I had a visit from the local elders. They think I am in a dangerous position.”

“Dangerous?”

“Yes. The Bible says that a woman needs the covering of a husband, especially if she’s going to be in a position to be deceived. They want me to start considering some of the local men who seem eager to court me.”

Bobby gave a low whistle and leaned back in his chair. Then he spoke.

“Jenny, you are a different kind of Amish girl. You’ve been through hard times and good. You grew up in an Amish family and were raised
by my closest friends. Then, at a very difficult point in your life, you found out that one side of your bloodline is
Englisch
, and the other is Amish. You married an
Englischer
who became one of the finest Amish men I ever met. So you have a built-in conflict.
Englisch
or Amish? Who are you, really? And now Rachel is getting to the age where she’s sorting through the same questions. I think you may have to make a bigger choice than you really understand.”

“What do you mean, Bobby?”

“I think your elders are right. I think if you stay Amish, you should marry again and live this life the way it has been lived for centuries—turn your back on the world and everything that’s in it. But if you keep going with your books, I think there might come a day when you have to go out in the world a lot more than the Amish are willing to allow. And so you have to decide who you are and what God—”

“What God is wanting for my life?”

“Yes, Jenny…what God wants for your life.”

On the way back from Paradise, Richard and Jeremy passed a large field. Some men were working in the field with a horse-drawn piece of equipment. It was moving down rows of green plants and digging them up. Something inside Richard made him pull over to the side of the road. He climbed out of his car and walked to the fence.

Jeremy got out and followed him. “What is it?”

“Those men, Jeremy. What are they doing? They’re Amish, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they’re Amish, and they are digging potatoes. The horse draws the digger down the rows and the men follow after, bagging the potatoes. Why?”

“I don’t know, Jeremy. I have the strangest feeling that I’ve been here before, standing at this fence, watching Amish men harvest their crops.”

Richard stood a moment longer, and then he began to softly sing. “
Lassen Sie ihn, der gelegen hat, seine Hand auf dem Pflug nicht sehen sich um
!”

Jeremy stared at him. “How on earth do you know that song, Richard?”

Richard turned with tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know, Jeremy. What does it mean?”

“ ‘Let him who has laid his hand on the plow not look back!’ It’s an Amish song.”

Richard’s knees buckled, and he started to fall. Jeremy leaped forward and grabbed him.

“Richard, what is it?”

“I don’t know, Jeremy, I just got very weak. Can you get me into the car? You’ll have to drive.”

“Sure…come on, my friend. Let’s get you someplace where you can rest.”

Jeremy helped Richard in, and then he got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“I’m going to take you to my apartment, Richard. You should stay there tonight.”

“That’s fine, Jeremy. I don’t know what’s happening, but I have a splitting headache, and I need to lie down.”

Jeremy put the car in gear, and they drove off. Richard turned to look at the men in the field one more time. He pressed his face against the window. The glass was cool against his skin.

What was that, Lord? What was that?

The next day, Jenny went to Bobby’s house and called Jeremy’s office. She waited a few moments, and then Jeremy’s secretary answered.

“Kerusso Publishing, this is Judy. How can I help you?”

“Jeremy King, please.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. King isn’t in the office. Can I take a message?”

“Would you please tell Mr. King that Jenny Hershberger called?”

“Oh, Mrs. Hershberger, I didn’t recognize your voice. Jeremy is at home. He said if you called to give you that number. Do you have a pencil?”

Jenny wrote down the number and called Jeremy’s house.

“Hello, this is Jeremy.”

“Jeremy, it’s Jenny.”

“Jenny, how wonderful it is to hear your voice. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I missed you yesterday. You asked me to call you.”

“Yes, I did, Jenny. I need to talk to you. It’s very important. Can you meet me today?”

“I have some things to do this morning, Jeremy. Would this afternoon be okay?”

“Certainly. Where?”

“At the Friendly Farmer?”

“Yes, I was just there having lunch with a friend. In fact, that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“Is that the ‘we’ you mentioned in your note?”

“Yes, Richard Sandbridge. I’ll tell you more about it when we meet. Four o’clock?”

“Sure. See you there.”

Jenny watched Bobby drive away, and then she walked into the Friendly Farmer restaurant. She looked around and saw Jeremy at a table by the window. He stood up and waved.

“Jenny, over here.”

Jenny walked over and sat down across from Jeremy. He looked good, handsome as always, and obviously glad to see her.

“Do you want to get something first?”

“A cup of coffee, Jeremy. I’m really not hungry.

Jeremy held up his cup, and the waitress nodded and came over. After the coffee was served, Jeremy turned to Jenny and gazed at her.

“You look wonderful Jenny, beautiful and—”

“What did you want to see me about, Jeremy?”

“Oww!” Jeremy smiled and rubbed his forehead. “There’s that hammer again. Honestly, Jenny, one of these days you are going to knock me right out of my chair.”

Jenny laughed. “Okay, Jeremy. I’m sorry. I am glad to see you. But you know that it’s hard for me to put up with fluff and flattery.”

“Telling you that you are beautiful is a serious issue to me, Jenny. No fluff in it. But let’s talk about that later. I want to share some things that are happening. Have you ever heard of Richard Sandbridge?”

“No, who’s that?”

“He’s a songwriter-producer and one of the principals of Charis Records.”

“What’s Charis Records?”

Jeremy laughed and took a sip of coffee. “Okay, I forgot. You don’t listen to music or the radio or records, and you would know absolutely nothing about the recording industry. Charis Records is a Christian record company that records and sells Christian music. They’ve been around for several years but didn’t really break out until Richard Sandbridge, an already established secular songwriter, became a Christian and moved over from his label to Charis. Since then, they have virtually taken over the Christian recording business.”

“So how does that relate to you, Jeremy?”

“Richard has become the vice president in charge of artists and repertoire for the company and a main stockholder. Pretty much what Richard says is what happens at Charis. Richard came to me with a proposal. He wants to buy Kerusso Publishing.”

“But that’s your life!”

“Yes, but here’s the other part. I’m going with the company. I’ll stay on as president of Kerusso and become a stockholder in the umbrella company Richard set up. I get to run Kerusso exactly the way I always have, but now we’ll have almost unlimited resources at our disposal. Richard is particularly interested in
Dear Jenny
. He also knows that you are a terrific fiction writer. He wants to put your book out as soon as possible.”