Pennsylvania Patchwork (25 page)

“Sounds
greislich
.” Esther wanted to dive into the conversation both feet first, but she didn't shower him with queries about his trip to Ohio. When he was ready to unfold the story, she would listen.

He swallowed another mouthful as she poured him coffee.

“Maybe I'll have a snack too.” She brought out another cup and a platter of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.

“Those reporters ne'er scared that woman to death, poor thing.” He selected a cookie, took a bite. “Turns out she's
ab im Kopp
—her mind's higgledy-piggledy. And she ain't my former wife—no doubt about it.”

“Are you sure?” Esther sat across from him.

“Yah, we spoke to several neighbors in the area and found out her name is Coleen O'—something. She's from Tennessee. Not even Amish. I don't know what my cousin was thinking. But then, he was young when I married Deborah.”

There, he'd finally voiced his former wife's name. But Esther wouldn't ask about Deborah either.

Esther wondered what would come next. “I'm so sorry for all you've gone through,” she said.

He sipped his coffee again. “This is a mighty gut cup of coffee.”

“Don't tell Mamm it's from Starbucks.”

“Ach, that's why it tastes so gut. Larry's got me hooked too.” He grinned, revealing the laugh lines she adored. “Do ya suppose we should confess to the bishop?” he joked.

“As a matter of fact, I invited Bishop Troyer to stop over tomorrow when he has time. No matter what happens between you and me, I'm bound and determined to become baptized.”

“That's fine-gut news, Esther.”

She waited for him to say more. It seemed she'd waited most of her life, as if buried under an avalanche of snow. She'd waited for Samuel, but he'd never returned. She'd waited for Nathaniel, but this time had been rewarded for her patience.

She nibbled into a cookie and savored its sweetness. The Lord Almighty was in control at midnight, and all day, every day. He ruled over the universe, no matter how Esther had tried to manipulate it.

“I want to be here when Bishop Troyer arrives so we can speak to him together,” Nathaniel said. “Because I'm as bound and determined to marry you as ever.”

“Truly, ya are?” Her hand covered her heart. “I was so afraid that even if you didn't find your Deborah, you'd choose somebody better.”

“There is none better—for me. So count on planting as much celery as quickly as you can in the spring. Or we'll buy it at the supermarket, if we must.”

Celery, Esther knew, was eaten in copious amounts at Amish weddings. The image of the leafy green stalks emboldened her. She leapt to her feet, rounded the table, then plunked down on the chair next to him. As she approached, his arms spread out to enfold her.

Ach, the best embrace in the world. Then he kissed her lips with fervor. After they reluctantly parted, he drew his head back. “
Ich liebe ich,
my dearest Esther.”

“I love you, too, Nathaniel.”

“Do ya still remember how to sing
Das Loblied
from the
Ausbund
?” he said.

“Yah. ‘
O Gott Vater, wir loben dich.'
—Oh God the Father, we praise you.” The second hymn sung
a capella
every preaching Sunday for about fifteen to twenty minutes while the ministers prepared the service was ingrained in her mind since infancy.

Nathaniel gazed into her eyes. “How about the hymn from the
Ausbund
we sing at weddings?” he said.

“Yah, I remember it, too.”

“Shall we ask Armin to be a
Forsinger
?”

“If you think he'll show up.”

“Not agree to be a song leader for his own brother's wedding? He'll be there.” He reached for her hand, brought her fingertips to his lips.

Esther was so ecstatic she felt like singing the hymns right now!

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

With the door to the kitchen shut, I lounged on the sitting room couch and Larry slouched in the easy chair. His bold yellow T-shirt was incompatible with my demure Amish dress, apron, and prayer cap—or maybe not. Both spoke a message loud and clear: God was at the helm. Yet my ship was adrift and my future obscure. When Zach had dropped me off after dinner, he gave me a peck on the cheek and hadn't even made plans to see me again.

“We can never repay you,” I said to Larry, determined to harpoon myself out of my ocean of insecurities.

“I'm the one who should be thanking you all,” Larry said. “I wouldn't take back my trip to Ohio for anything. I learned more from watching Nathaniel confront his greatest fears with patient godliness than I did spending four years in college and listening to the best of sermons.”

His statement got me wondering: What had I learned over the last few weeks about humility, forgiveness, and honesty?

“Larry, wait here, I'll be right back.” I scrambled up the stairs and returned with the Tiffany's box.

He stood and put out his hand.

“I didn't open it,” I said, and placed the box in his palm.

“Can't say I'm surprised.” To my amazement Larry sounded more relieved than bummed. “I figured it was a dumb idea.”

“The ring is waiting for the right woman,” I said. “Your future soul mate. The lady who wins your heart will have a fine husband.”

“And how about you, Holly? Are you tying the knot?”

“I'm still not sure.”

“When you make up your mind, do I get an invite?”

“Absolutely, you're like a family member now. You've proven yourself to be more than a nice guy and a good businessman. You have my admiration.”

“Thanks.” He gave me a one-armed hug. “Do you think God urged me here on a commission, to drive Nathaniel?” he asked, his arm still on my shoulder in a brotherly fashion. “I thought I'd come to Pennsylvania to sweep you off your feet—”

“Holly!” Zach barged in from the kitchen. He stopped short, stared at me and Larry, then his gaze honed in on the blue box.

“Hey, man, I'm back.” Larry tossed the box in the air and caught it with his other hand. “How's it going?” He extended his arm to shake Zach's hand, but Zach ignored his gesture and strode over to me.

“Well, I guess I'll put my gear away.” Larry stuffed the Tiffany's box in a pocket and carried his overnight bag toward his bedroom. “Call me if you need me, Holly.”

“She won't,” Zach said, then turned to me. “At least I hope she won't.”

When Zach and I were alone, he took my hand and said, “I've been sitting out back in my truck wondering what my problem is. I have something to tell you.”

Seeing his taut, grim expression—like he was a pole-vaulter about to attempt to scale an impossibly high bar—I braced myself, wanting to stave off the inevitable. He'd changed his mind. He thought I looked dumb dressed Amish and had seen how plain I really was. This moment, before he spilled out his feelings and thoughts, might be the last time I could hold out hope for the two of us. I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself.

He drew me to him and said, “I love you, Holly Fisher.”

My eyes popped open. “You do?”

“Yes. You and only you. I should have told you before. I was afraid I'd botched things up so badly you'd vamoose. Well, I was acting like a coward, is what I was doing. Please tell me I'm the man who's swept you off your feet.”

He bent forward, and his free hand gently guided my mouth to his. He brushed his lips against mine until my lips softened. Then he bestowed a passionate kiss, my lips melting into his, my body going limp. I closed my eyes again and allowed myself to be swept into the luxury of his powerful embrace.

As we parted, Zach said, “I'll love you for the rest of my life—that's never going to change. Please tell me you'll be my wife.”

As his words replayed themselves in my ears, I felt my fragile heart overflowing with gratitude and devotion—my brokenness mending.

“I love you, too, Zach—so much I can't imagine life without you.”

He held me close again, lifting me off the ground for a moment, then setting me down and cupping my cheeks with his hands.

“And Zach?” I said. “My answer is yes.”

EPILOGUE

Anna Gingerich never thought she'd cry at an Englisch wedding, particularly her granddaughter's. As Anna listened to Holly and Zach repeat their vows, she recalled her own blissful wedding in her parents' home, so many years ago.

“To love and to cherish …” Holly wore a flowing white long-sleeved satin gown and a demure veil. “In sickness and in health.” Her face gleamed with elation.

Yah, Anna was conflicted. What Amish grandmother wouldn't be? She prayed God Almighty would forgive Holly for not choosing to join the Amish church. Not like Anna's once rebellious Esther—soon to be baptized Amish and wed to Nathaniel, who sat beside her. In preparation for their wedding, Esther had hired Lizzie, seated a few rows back, to come over once a week to help. Anna had grown right fond of that spritely
Maedel
, and it wondered Anna that no man was courting her. Maybe Armin, if that footloose young man didn't take off again. She hadn't seen him today.

“As long as you both shall live.”

Anna wasn't even offended when the pastor pronounced Holly and Zach man and wife, and the two exchanged a brief kiss right in front of everyone in the house of worship, the building alive with jubilation and brimming with well-wishers.

As Holly and Zach turned to the congregation, Jeremiah, seated on the aisle, and Esther, on Anna's other side, helped Anna to her feet.

Beth Fleming and her husband, Roger, stood across the aisle. Beth was dabbing the corner of her eye, but Anna could tell by Beth's smiling face she was delighted. Earlier, Anna had seen Esther's and Beth's arms linked, like sisters. Watching Holly and Zach stride toward them, Anna was grateful for Zach, whose veterinary skills were rejuvenating Cookie. Why, it was as if the aged mare were receiving a second chance at life, as Anna had ever since her surgery. Nathaniel had insisted he pay for Anna's medical expenditures, his early wedding present to Esther. Anna might even feel strong enough to visit her sons and their families in Montana, but she knew a long frigid winter lay before her, a season to quilt and reflect on the Lord.

When Holly and Zach neared Anna, they stopped. Holly reached out her arms, hugged Anna, and kissed her cheek. Then the newlyweds proceeded, a bounce in each step.

If you enjoyed
Pennsylvania Patchwork
, I would be honored if you would tell others by writing a review. Go
here
to write a review on Goodreads.

Thank you!
—Kate Lloyd

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I'm grateful for every reader. I can't thank those who sent encouraging letters, emails via my website, or Facebook posts enough! I wish I had room to mention each one by name! Two who gave me special assistance are Karla Hanns and Mary Hake.

Many thanks to Professor Donald Kraybill and Professor Emeritus C. Richard Beam, who were extremely gracious. Thank you, Emma Stoltzfus, Herb Scrivener and the staff at Zook's Fabric, Sam and Susie Lapp, and the Lancaster Mennonite Historical Society, among others in Lancaster County and across the nation for answering my barrage of questions! Thank you, Larry Bodmer, and several Old Order Amish farmers who advised me about aspects of farm life and milking cows. Thanks, Lisa Ravenholt, for answering my horsy questions. Thank you fellow author Renee Riva for your insights, and bird expert and author Connie Sidles. Thank you, Buddy Gilbert and Wesley Fisk, for sharing your experience and knowledge of the Vietnam War.

A humongous thank you to my fabulous editor, Don Pape, and David C Cook's stellar team, including Karen Stoller, Ingrid Beck, Amy Konyndyk, Renada Arens, the tireless sales force, and many others. Thank you, Jamie Chavez. Special thanks to Sandra Bishop—once again my agent of the year!

I am indebted to my critique group: Judy Bodmer, Roberta Kehle, Kathleen Khohler, Thornton Ford, Paul Malm, and Marty Nystrom.

I love hearing from readers via my website, www.katelloyd.net, and on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/katelloydbooks
,
or follow me on Twitter @KateLloydAuthor.

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