Stone Wall , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Beverly Lewis

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185 pages

English

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Anna is eager to begin a new chapter in her life as a Lancaster County tour guide in the picturesque area where her Plain grandmother once stayed. Anna wishes she could talk with her grandmother about those long-ago days, but the elderly woman suffers from Alzheimer's, and beyond a vague hint about an old stone wall, much about that time is a mystery. Thankfully, Martin Nolt, a handsome Mennonite, takes the young Beachy Amish woman under his wing for her training, familiarizing her with the many local highlights, including Peaceful Meadows Horse Retreat, which serves children with special needs. The retreat's mission so inspires Anna that she returns to volunteer, and she quickly strikes up a friendship with Gabe Allgyer, the young Amish widower who manages it. As Anna grows closer to both Martin and Gabe, she finds herself faced with a difficult choice--one in potential conflict with the expectations of her parents. Will Anna find true love and the truth about her grandmother's past in Lancaster County? Or will she find only heartbreak?

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	08 septembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493428182
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0408€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Cover
Half Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2020 by Beverly M. Lewis, Inc.
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 2020
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 978-1-4934-2818-2
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This story 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 any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Art direction by Paul Higdon
Dedication
To
Cousin Lois,
with love and gratitude
for sharing this joyful journey.
Epigraph
As for God, his way is perfect. . . .
—Psalm 18:30
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
1
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Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Back Ads
Cover Flaps
Back Cover
Prologue
’ T is a waste of time to look back with regret,” Mammi Eliza Slaubaugh once told me. “ Though we might fret and stew, the past simply can’t be changed,” she’d added, leaning closer, as if to share a secret. “Besides, if we could change our past, Anna, would we want to?”
Mammi’s last question so ferhoodled me, I was unable to grasp her meaning. And yet I’d never forgotten her words of wisdom. Truth be told, I was still grappling with that very idea while I picked strawberries with my mother on this exceptionally bright June sixth morning, the one-year anniversary of my breakup with Atley Brenneman, my first beau.
“Do you have any past regrets, Mamm ?” I asked as I set my bucket on the ground.
Mamm tilted her blond head and smiled quizzically. “Aren’t ya a bit young to think about regrets, Anna? You’re only twenty.”
I sighed, recalling Atley’s decision to leave our Beachy Amish community to train to become a pilot. Why hadn’t I seen it coming? Atley had done his best to persuade me to leave with him, his arguments sharp as a blade. But with the Lord’s help, I stood firm in my upbringing, despite my deep care for him. Even so, our breakup still brought a sense of what-could-have-been.
Mamm flapped her long apron at a bird eyeing a cluster of ripe strawberries. “ Ach , Anna dear, I can tell where that sigh’s coming from. And it’s no wonder: Losing your beau to the world was awful hard on you. One of my regrets is how you had to suffer through all of that.”
I nodded, remembering how, at the time, I’d taken to writing down my prayers as a way to ease my sadness. At day’s end, I would go out to the edge of the woods near our farmhouse and lie in the tall grasses, hoping no one but the critters would notice me there in the fading light. After months of this much-needed solitude, my heart had begun to open to God through His handiwork: the majestic canopy of trees turning red and gold, and the abundance of woodland creatures—red squirrels gathering nuts, deer feeding on underbrush, and birds darting here and there in the rustling branches. And I had known that my heavenly Father was with me, comforting me.
“You feeling all right?” Mamm asked just now, reaching low for more plump red berries.
“ Jah , but I do wish I’d never gone out with Atley,” I admitted, aware of the old pain of disappointment as we finished picking the ripe fruit.
“Your mind’s in a whirl today, ain’t so?” Mamm gave me a faint smile, her blue eyes discerning. “But you couldn’t have known about Atley. Not even his parents suspected anything was amiss.” She glanced up at a flock of birds.
Though I hadn’t allowed myself to voice it then, the fact was I’d been angry with myself—and him—for allowing us to remain a couple as long as we had. And for the first three months after our breakup, I was downright disgruntled about that, as well as my romantic prospects here in Mifflinburg. Sadly, Atley hadn’t been the only fellow to drift away. On the heels of Atley’s exit, the behavior of a handful of other fellows became worrisome, as well, betraying how they were raised. Most shockingly, one of the boys I’d gone to junior high with had decided to join the army, turning his back on the nonresistance our Anabaptist church embraced.
It was around then that I came across God’s words in the Bible about looking ahead to the good things He had planned for me. It seemed that the Lord had something better in mind for me than my rehashing the past. I also recognized it wasn’t my place to judge Atley, so I’d confessed my resentment and begun to pray for a potential mate who would share my Plain values and way of life, one who had yielded his life to the Savior. Even so, I wasn’t sure of the way forward.
Reaching now to take my mother’s filled bucket, I carried it and mine as we walked together toward the house. “I wasted nearly a year of my life.”
Mamm nodded sagely. “I’m sure it feels that way, but try not to be hard on yourself.”
I gave her a smile and realized anew how easy it was to get stuck in the past—all the should-haves and what-ifs.
Mamm and I made our way up the wide back porch steps and into the house.
“It still seems like I should’ve sensed something was off beam with Atley, though.”
“Sometimes it’s just not possible, Anna.”
“Well, maybe I should prepare for the future, so it never happens again.”
Mamm stopped and gave me a look. “How?”
“Honestly, I’ve been pondering what to do with my life—the next few years, anyhow,” I admitted as I followed her into the kitchen with the buckets.
Mamm’s eyes widened into soft blue moons as she turned to look at me. “What do you mean?”
Shrugging, I set the brimming buckets on the counter without a word, suddenly unsure of myself. I needed to have a specific plan before I broached the topic, but right now, I didn’t have one beyond a desire to do something— anything —other than to keep living life as it was in Mifflinburg.
“Well then.” Mamm studied me. “Maybe just take some time to think of what that might be.”
I nodded and went to wash my hands at the deep double sink, preparing to make a nice hot breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon for my parents and me. All seven of my older siblings were married and had their own families, so it was quite simple to make meals for just the three of us. I also looked forward to helping Mamm prepare the fresh-picked strawberries for jam making later . . . and a pie, too. The highlights of today’s tasks.
Once, Mammi Eliza would have been right here with us, laughing and telling stories of her childhood as we worked side by side. Sharing tales of “snappin’, shellin’, picklin’, and cannin’,” as she liked to describe women’s summertime work. I wished her memory weren’t so poor now. How expressive she had always been, prior to her illness. So animated and full of life. It broke my heart to think of her suffering from Alzheimer’s at eighty-six, and I wished I could communicate to her how much I appreciated her being such a wonderful role model to me and to all who knew her. I hope she understands the love and admiration I feel , I thought, remembering again our long-ago conversations. Just maybe she, too, had once struggled with regrets, and maybe that’s why she’d seemed so wise.
For certain I had a few regrets about Mammi Eliza. I missed her smile and missed being able to talk like we used to. And I regretted not being able to share with her my deepest dreams and feelings. If only I could tell her about my desire to start a brand-new chapter in my life. A few nights ago, I had even gone so far as to whisper such a prayer before falling asleep.
When I’m Mammi’s age, I don’t want to regret not heeding this stirring in my heart. . . .
Chapter 1

A nna Beachy, a direct descendant of the founder of the Beachy Amish church, had been up for only three hours the next morning when she completed her indoor chores, including cooking and cleaning up after breakfast, as well as washing the kitchen and mudroom’s large vinyl floor with Mamm’s string mop.
That afternoon, Anna set out to hoe the annoying weeds from the family vegetable garden, the sound of bird calls all around. And as she worked, she whispered a prayer of gratitude for her family’s many blessings.
When the mail truck arrived in the distance, she observed Mamm walk down the driveway toward the road and return with some letters, waving one in the air and calling to Anna, who put down the hoe and went to meet her halfway. Anna immediately noticed the Strasburg, Pennsylvania, return address of Mamm’s Old Order Amish cousins, Glen and Sadie Flaud, whom she had visited with her family a number of times through the years. Glancing at Mamm, Anna frowned, then stared again at the envelope clearly addressed to Miss Anna Ruth Beachy. Since she’d never written to the Flauds, she found it very curious that these distant cousins should be writing to her .
“Go ahead—see what it says,” Mamm urged, standing there with her own look of surprise.
It turned out that Cousin Sadie was writing about a job opening for a tour guide at the Mennonite Information Center in Lancaster County. Anna relayed this to Mamm, then added, puzzled, “I wonder why she thought of me.”
“Read on, dear.” Mamm clutched the