Timepiece , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Beverly Lewis

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

141 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

As the only daughter, Sylvia Miller of The Tinderbox has always held a special place in her Old Order family, one Adeline Pelham jeopardizes when she shows up at the Millers' Hickory Hollow farm. It isn't that Adeline means to be a threat, but her very existence is a reminder of the painful secret that has so recently upended the Miller household. And with Sylvia and her mother still struggling to come to terms with that news, this is a challenging time to welcome an Englisher--especially this Englisher--into their midst.Despite the Millers' unexpected hospitality, Adeline is well aware that she's treading on Sylvia's turf, and she feels guilty about doing so when Sylvia is grappling with issues of her own. Not only is Sylvia trying to rebuild her trust in her father, but she's uncertain what to make of her once-promising engagement to Titus Kauffman, who hasn't pursued her since she confronted him. Adeline wishes she could help Sylvia, but she's not sure that either she or Sylvia is ready for that level of closeness in their relationship.Can God make something good come out of the mistakes of the past? Or does Adeline's arrival mark one too many surprises for the Millers and their Amish community?

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	17 septembre 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493420124
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0461€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Beverly Lewis
The Tinderbox • The Timepiece
The First Love • The Road Home
The Proving • The Ebb Tide
The Wish • The Atonement
The Photograph
The Love Letters • The River
H OME TO H ICKORY H OLLOW
The Fiddler
The Bridesmaid • The Guardian
The Secret Keeper
The Last Bride
T HE R OSE T RILOGY
The Thorn
The Judgment • The Mercy
A BRAM ’ S D AUGHTERS
The Covenant
The Betrayal • The Sacrifice
The Prodigal • The Revelation
T HE H ERITAGE OF L ANCASTER C OUNTY
The Shunning • The Confession
The Reckoning
A NNIE ’ S P EOPLE
The Preacher’s Daughter
The Englisher • The Brethren
T HE C OURTSHIP OF N ELLIE F ISHER
The Parting
The Forbidden
The Longing
S EASONS OF G RACE
The Secret • The Missing
The Telling
The Postcard • The Crossroad
The Redemption of Sarah Cain
Sanctuary ( with David Lewis)
Child of Mine ( with David Lewis )
The Sunroom • October Song
Amish Prayers
The Beverly Lewis Amish Heritage Cookbook
www.beverlylewis.com
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2019 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 2019
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 978-1-4934-2012-4
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 Jeanette Buckner, encouraging reader-friend and prayer partner.
And in fond memory of Louis Hagel, “Uncle Louie,” watchmaker and longtime family friend.
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Beverly Lewis
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Epigraph
Time ripens the substance of a life as the seasons mellow and perfect its fruits. The best apples fall latest and keep longest.
—Amos Bronson Alcott, Table Talk
Prologue
I t was the last day of July, a sweltering Friday evening, and I took my sweet time heading back from the meadow where I had been walking, trying to make sense of the day. A day like no other.
Out of nowhere, a young blue-eyed woman had shown up in her sleek red car at our farmhouse, declaring to be Dat’s daughter. The shock of it still had my head spinning, but my heart was with dearest Mamma , wondering how she was holding up back at the house with my father and the Englischer named Adeline Pelham.
The neighbors’ watchdog to the west of us had been barking so long and so loudly, the poor thing sounded nearly hoarse. What with that and a multitude of crickets chirruping in the background and birds calling high in the trees, I could scarcely make out what my younger brothers were saying as I approached the stable door. Inside, the four of them were freshening bedding straw for the mules and horses. Stepping closer, I leaned into the doorway and heard the voice of my youngest brother, eight-year-old Tommy.
“We’ve got us another sister, then?” he asked.
Thirteen-year-old Adam shook his head. “ Puh! That fancy woman ain’t my sister!”
Calvin, eleven, shot back, “But she has a birth certificate and pictures to prove it.”
“You don’t have to remind us—I heard what Dat said,” Adam replied, sounding peeved.
“Boys.” I stepped inside, making myself clearly visible, the strong, sweet smell of fresh hay hitting my nose. “ Was is letz do? ”
“I’ll tell ya what’s wrong.” Fifteen-year-old Ernie, next oldest after me, leaned on his hay fork. “This whole sister thing’s a little farfetched, ain’t it?”
Tommy was nodding, wide-eyed, his broadfall trousers grubby with dust from the straw bedding. “And Mamma seemed real ferhoodled , to tell the truth,” he said.
“Well, if ya stop and think ’bout it,” I told them, “Adeline herself looked ferhoodled . I doubt such a fancy woman expected to discover she has an Amish father.” I paused and looked at my younger brothers, wishing to ease their confused astonishment, my heart full of love for them.
Ernie adjusted his straw hat. “Then I guess we’re all ferhoodled .”
My bare feet grimy from the unswept cement floor, I glanced out the stable window, toward the house. “Are Dat and Mamma still in the kitchen with her?” I asked.
“ Nee ,” Adam said as he scattered the new straw around the stall. “They’re over at Dat’s clock shop, prob’ly showing her round. A customer brought in a specialty clock to be repaired. It’s really somethin’—it has a miniature clock shop inside the working clock. There’s even a tiny clockmaker, holding a pocket watch.”
Calvin nodded. “You should go an’ see it, Sylvie.”
So many emotions were washing over me that I shivered. The last thing I wanted to do was look at clocks right now.
“Did ya come out to help, Sylvie?” Tommy asked, his eyes hopeful.
“I really oughta finish up some mending,” I said, though I knew it was a poor excuse.
“What’re ya doin’ here, then?” Adam asked, his black suspenders dusty. “Eavesdroppin’?”
“S’pose so,” I admitted, still worried about them. “Actually, I was wondering how you boys felt ’bout Adeline spending the night. Yous were all so quiet during supper with her . . . wasn’t like ya.”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have been as welcoming as Mamma.” Calvin fluffed up the straw in the stall of our older driving horse, Lily.
“Mamma is awful nice,” Ernie said, carrying water, then dumping it into the watering trough. “She didn’t have to invite her.”
“ Nee , but Mamma’s always kind,” I replied. By her very nature . . .
“Adeline’s stayin’ just one night,” Ernie said with a glance at Adam, who still wore a deep frown.
“I sure hope so!” Adam wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm.
“Me too,” Calvin replied, saying out loud just what I was thinking.
I looked toward the clock showroom, where I sometimes enjoyed helping my clockmaker father with his many customers—Amish and English alike. Mamma was standing in the doorway now, and by her stance, it looked as if she was about to turn and leave Dat and Adeline alone to talk.
“How do ya think poor Mamma feels?” young Tommy asked quietly.
I shook my head. “ Ach , can’t imagine.”
Then, walking out of the stable, I made a beeline for the house, running through the backyard, the grass still warm on my bare feet from the heat of the day. I half hoped I wouldn’t have to talk further to Adeline this evening. Her sudden arrival was overwhelming when I was still coming to grips with my father’s first marriage—until recently, something he’d kept secret for all the years since he’d come to Hickory Hollow as a seeker and met Mamma.
Oddly, it seemed Adeline’s mother had kept a secret of her own.
CHAPTER one
A deline Pelham was impressed by the row after row of beautiful clocks in Earnest Miller’s showroom—a sight to behold. Clocks old and new and of all styles and woods were each set to chime a few seconds apart, according to Earnest. Despite his strange haircut and simple way of dress, the man was well-spoken. It was a mystery to her why he had ever decided to become Amish. She was also surprised at how talkative he was now—much more so than upon their first meeting that afternoon, when she had parked at the end of the driveway, near the family’s roadside vegetable stand.
At present, Earnest was describing his woodworking equipment, a wide range of tools that included saws and lathes run by air compressors powered by a diesel engine.
No need for electricity? she thought, marveling at the variety of tools—from large to miniature—some of which she had never known existed. “Did you always want to do this?” she asked in the stillness of the narrow woodworking shop.
“Make clocks?” Earnest tugged on his wavy brown beard and motioned for her to have a seat on the comfortable swivel chair near his workbench, which held a long, neat stack of tiger maple planks. Quickly, he pulled up another chair for himself. “I’ve always been curious about what made clocks tick.” He chuckled a little at his pun. “But no, making clocks wasn’t my plan. It was something I was fortunate enough to stumble onto . . . after I came here.”
She flinched. The significance of his words wasn’t lost on her. After things ended with Mom, he means.
“It’s been a wunnerbaar-gut profession,” he added.
She noticed again the way he spoke sometimes, slipping foreign words in here and there—half English, half something else she somewhat recognized. Possibly a German dialect, she thought, having taken two years of German in high school.
Earnest’s gaze was steady and penetrating as he inhaled sharply. “I guess even the birth certificate you brought hasn’t fully convinced you that we’re related,” he said.
Adeline gave a little shrug and looked away. “It’s just that Mom never even hinted you were Amish.”
“Well, she couldn’t have known.” He paused a moment. “Actually, no one knew where I disappeared to.” He went on to explain his desire to turn over a new leaf once the divorce was final, and that the opportunity to acquire the previous clockmaker’s business had fallen into his lap around that time. “I was alr