Adoring Addie (The Courtships of Lancaster County Book #2)
169 pages
English

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169 pages
English

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Description

A New Amish Romance from Christy Winner and Bestselling Author Leslie Gould When Addie Cramer's mutter and daed decide Phillip Eicher is the man for her to marry, they claim she must honor them by obeying their wishes. But then she falls in love with Jonathan Mosier--part of the family with whom the Cramers have a long-held grudge. With the help of others in her community who long to see the quarrel healed, Jonathan and Addie struggle to continue their relationship against both sets of parents' wishes. But when one of Addie's vengeful brothers harms a member of the Mosier family, Jonathan intervenes and is banished from Lancaster County. A distraught Addie determines to find the true reason for the grudge between the two families, hoping to tear down the animosity of the past. Can their love for each other bridge the divide between their families? Or are they destined to remain apart forever?

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 01 mai 2013
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781441261380
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0202€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2013 by Leslie Gould
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means for example, electronic, photocopy, recording without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6138-0
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Jennifer Parker
Cover photography by Mike Habermann Photography, LLC
Author represented by MacGregor Literary, Inc.
For Kaleb,
oldest son of mine, full of intelligence and creativity, truth and design
Behold, I make all things new.
Revelation 21:5 KJV

He that hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail!
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet , Act I, iv, 112–113
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Leslie Gould
Back Ads
Back Cover
C HAPTER 1
My parents were positive I’d met my future husband. They expected me to marry Phillip Eicher, the bishop’s son. And soon.
“He’s coming over tomorrow, for the barbecue,” my mother said, perched on one of our mismatched chairs at the end of the table, her plump hand gripping a pen that hovered over her notebook. She spent most of her days there, writing lists, giving orders, and babying her bad knee. “He wants to talk to your Daed at least that’s what his mother told me.”
“Oh.” I wiped my sweaty palms down my just-starched apron.
A smile spread across her round face. “We’ll have a wedding to plan soon.”
“ Mutter , please.” I’d always called her Mutter and my father Daed , the more formal terms, rather than the familiar Mamm and Dat that my Bruders called them. She seemed to prefer it. I don’t think my father cared.
Mutter continued speaking as if she hadn’t heard my plea. “That’s why you shouldn’t go today. We want the barbecue tomorrow to be ”
I strode out of the kitchen, my basket of hand-quilted potholders in my arms, hoping she’d think I hadn’t heard her. I’d already compromised by waiting to go to the farmers’ market until after I’d cleaned the breakfast dishes. It would be nearly eight o’clock, long after the market opened, by the time my cousin Hannah and I arrived.
As I turned the corner into our large living room, a space big enough to host our entire church, my brother Billy came sliding in his stocking feet across the polished floor. His eyes narrowed under his dark bangs, partially pushed up on his sweaty forehead. He carried a gallon jar of pond water and plants in one hand, while his other flew around in an attempt to keep his balance. Still, greenish water sloshed over the rim.
A grin spread across his face as he veered toward me.
I swung the basket around to my hip and stepped sideways.
It didn’t matter.
He plowed into me anyway.
I managed to stay on my feet, but the basket landed on the floor, the jar on top and tipped sideways. The murky water soaked my potholders that had been bound for the market.
“Billy,” I cried.
“My tadpoles!” he yelled, falling to the floor, stomach down, his ten-year-old body flailing toward my basket.
I righted the jar, which had a few inches of water remaining, and began picking through the potholders, rescuing the slimy creatures.
“What’s going on in there?” Mutter called out.
The tadpoles flopped this way and that. I rushed from one to the next, pinching each one tightly enough to hold on to it but not enough to damage, dropping them back into the green slime.
Billy crowded in too and began shaking out the potholders and tossing them onto the floor, his brown eyes wide.
“Addie?” Mutter yelled.
“Just a minute.”
“Nell!” Mutter called to her younger Schwester , who’d been holed up in the sewing room off the kitchen since breakfast. “Would you see what’s going on?”
“I think we got them all.” Billy grinned.
“One more.” I plucked the tiniest tadpole from the black border of a potholder still in the basket and dropped it into the jar. “Take them back and let them go.” I spoke firmly. “They’ve been traumatized enough.”
“ Ach , Addie,” he groaned.
“Take courage and do as I say. Quickly.” I thought of him as Billy the Brave. At ten, although dabbich clumsy he was still eager to help and please, but he also stuck up for others, including me. “And take Joe-Joe down to the creek with you so he’s out of Mutter’s way.” I scooped up the potholders.
Billy slid to the staircase, called for our littlest brother, the youngest of us seven children, and then headed to the front door to put on his boots. He tended to keep them there to avoid Mutter in the kitchen.
I lifted one of the wet potholders to my face and sniffed. I couldn’t help but frown at the swampy smell.
“What happened?”
I lifted my head to Aenti Nell’s round face and alarmed expression. She was short, a little squat, and had still-dark hair, the same color as Mutter’s was a few years ago before it turned gray, but a kerchief partly covered Aenti’s head instead of a Kapp .
I held up the wet square. “Billy.” That was all I needed to say.
“I figured.” Her brow wrinkled. She continually brought me comfort in a Haus full of chaos. “I have some potholders you can take.”
I shook my head. “I think I have ten that didn’t get wet. I can try to wash the others.” Maybe they would dry in Hannah’s buggy on the way to the market.
“You won’t have time to iron them. You’re leaving soon, jah ?” She picked up the basket.
I nodded.
“Addie!”
“Go talk to your Mamm,” Aenti said. She led the way, with me right behind her. Mutter was all eyes as Aenti Nell traipsed through. Obviously my mother had guessed the situation.
“Looks like you aren’t meant to go,” she said.
I shook my head. “I still have enough to sell.” Barely.
“No, fate has spoken.”
I shook my head. I didn’t believe in fate especially if Billy was involved. Unfortunately, my mother did. Many Plain people looked for signs from God to help them make a decision my mother did that too. But she took it a step further, believing in a fate that, when it came to our family, seemed to dictate a path of endless woes.
Mutter pushed her chair back from the table. “Besides, the list of chores is longer than I thought. You won’t have time to finish all of them if you go to the market today.”
I didn’t respond. I’d been looking forward to going to the farmers’ market with my cousin for the last two weeks.
She crossed her arms, her pen still in her hand. “And what about dinner?” Mutter was so used to my taking charge of our household it seemed she felt lost without me.
“I’m cooking tonight,” Aenti Nell called out from the sewing room. “Remember, Laurel?”
Mutter shook her head. “I guess I forgot.”
My Aenti’s voice grew louder as she stepped back into the kitchen, the basket in her hands. “And maybe she’ll see Phillip.”
That stopped my Mutter for a moment.
“You should be on your way.” Aenti Nell transferred the basket to me. It was fuller than it had originally been. Plus, all the potholders were now tucked inside sealed gallon-sized bags. “I’ll clean up the floor.”
“ Denki ,” I whispered. “For everything.”
“Just make sure and tell me who all you see.” Her eyes twinkled in anticipation. “And all you hear.” She patted my arm, turned on her heel, and headed back to the sewing room. Just because she spent most of her days at home didn’t mean she didn’t want to know every last bit of Lancaster County gossip possible. As a Maidel a woman who’d never married she seemed to find her joy in other people’s lives.
“What about your chores?” Mutter said to me as she stood and shifted her weight to her good leg.
“I’ve been working all week.” I’d cleaned, polished, weeded, cooked, and baked. All that needed to be done were the finishing touches for the gathering we hosted each year just after mid-July. I’d already told Mutter, three times, everything was under control, regardless of what her latest list contained.
“Laurel, let her go.” Aenti Nell stood in the doorway to the sewing room, her arms crossed. “She does so much around here. She deserves to have a little fun.”
Mutter placed both her hands on her wide hips. “But I need her here.”
“I’ll help today.”
I mouthed “Denki” again to Aenti Nell, and then wrapped one arm around Mutter in a display of affection rare for our family, giving her a quick half hug. She’d been more anxious than usual lately, fretting over this and that, but especially the barbecue. And Phillip Eicher.
“Everything will work out,” I said. “You’ll see.”
She squeezed my arm. “Go on, then.” A faint smile, mixed with a hint of resignation, lingered on her face.
I turned and stepped toward the living room, wanting to be on my way before another disaster struck. Hannah hadn’t arrived yet, but I wasn’t going to stay in the house and take any chances Mutter would change her mind.
“Timothy will pick you up,” Mutter added.
“Jah, I know.” I grabbed my lunch pail from the corner of the table as I passed by. She’d told me four times already, at least. Timothy was on his Rumschpringe , his running around time. He was twenty and ha

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