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Synopsis
Renewed faith and happiness await three generations of women in this heartwarming series from Amy Lillard, set in the Oklahoma Amish community of Wells Landing . . .
With her daughter newly married, widow Charlotte Burkhart should have been content to find a companion for her later years in Amish widower Glenn Esh. Yet, Charlotte longs for more than life has offered her thus far. When she discovers a baby on her doorstep, the child seems like the miracle Charlotte's been praying for. Unfortunately, Glenn doesn't feel the same way. What's a single woman aching to experience motherhood once more to do?
From the moment Paul Brenneman sees Charlotte Burkhart with a new baby, he senses his lovely neighbor and the sweet child are meant to be. Which is why he offers to marry Charlotte and make her adoption dreams come true. No stranger to heartache himself, the stalwart widower knows second chances don't happen every day—especially not with a woman like Charlotte, the first woman in a long time who has him taking a leap of faith that happily-ever-after is still possible . . .
Release date: March 30, 2021
Publisher: Zebra Books
Print pages: 352
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A New Love for Charlotte
Amy Lillard
“And sometimes I even check things that I haven’t turned on,” Charlotte said as she poured him a cup of the fresh coffee.
Paul Brennaman sat back in his seat at Charlotte’s kitchen table and waited for her to pour her own cup and ease down into her chair. He tested the brew with a small sip. Perfect.
“Do you think . . .” She paused as if reluctant to say the words that followed. “Do you think I’m losing my mind?” She waited patiently, nearly browbeaten, for him to reply.
“Of course not,” he assured her.
Still, she didn’t breathe.
“Really, Charlotte. You’ve been through a lot.” And that was just taking into account everything that had happened to the woman and her family since they had moved to Oklahoma.
Paul had been neighbors with Charlotte Burkhart, her mother-in-law, and her daughter since they had moved to Wells Landing from Yoder, Kansas. That was over a year ago. Now Jenna had moved out and married Buddy Miller. They both lived on the camel farm with Titus and Abbie Lambert and Abbie’s parents, Emmanuel and Priscilla King. It was an interesting setup. Not just because Titus and Buddy milked the camels and sold their product for a small fortune to the English, but Buddy and Jenna had . . . special brains. He supposed that was the best way to put it. Buddy had something that folks called Down syndrome. It wasn’t harmful, just made him process things a little slower than some. And he had a different look to his cheeks and eyes. But you couldn’t ask to meet a nicer young man. Jenna had sustained damage to her brain in a swimming accident when she was a preteen. The lack of oxygen had left her with the mind of a much younger girl, but as far as Paul could see, she got along just fine. Yet he understood that it was easier for him to acknowledge this, standing on the outside. When Jenna and Buddy had first wanted to date, neither one of their families had seemed keen on the idea. In fact, the Millers—Gertie, Buddy’s mamm in particular—had seemed downright opposed to the idea. Somehow, the young couple had managed to bring their parents around, and now every time Paul saw them, they seemed nothing but happy.
Buddy helped Titus with the camels, and Jenna helped Abbie with her toddler girls, a more identical pair of twins he’d challenge you to find.
Then Charlotte’s mother-in-law, Nadine, had gone and fallen in love with Amos Fisher. Not that it was a bad thing. Amos was a good man. He seemed to be kind enough and Paul suspected he would take good care of Nadine, but between moving to a different state and losing her daughter to marriage and eventually her mother-in-law to the same, Charlotte’s confidence had taken quite a hit.
Finally, she exhaled. “If you think so.”
He wanted to reach across the table and cover her hand with his, but he managed to refrain. It wasn’t the nature of their relationship, though the more time he spent with Charlotte, the more time he wanted to spend with her. During the last couple of months, just since the weather started to turn nice again, he and Charlotte had become good friends.
“I do.” He cleared his throat. “After Marie died, I did the same thing.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows raised. “You checked the stove to see if it’s off and the water to make sure it wasn’t turned on every time you left the house?”
He nodded with a rueful twist of his mouth. “My worry was the windows and the barn. I don’t know why I thought I needed to check the barn, since the horse was with me. We only had one horse at the time, but I had to make sure the barn was locked up.”
His words made her smile. Well, he hoped it was his words that brought that curve to her lips. He wanted it to be. And what he said was the truth. When his wife had passed away suddenly, he had felt lost and adrift, much like Charlotte felt now.
“Maybe you would feel better if you had Goldie back here,” he continued.
Goldie was the golden retriever that Charlotte had gotten from Paul’s son Obie. Obie had been raising golden retriever puppies for many years now. And he raised some of the finest dogs in Wells Landing.
Charlotte sighed and stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “She’s so rambunctious.”
Paul suppressed a chuckle. “She’ll get better as she gets older.”
Charlotte shook her head. “She’s almost a year old. And she doesn’t mind worth anything.”
“Training a dog takes patience,” he confirmed.
“And that’s why I sent her over to the Lamberts. I figured Buddy could do a better job with her than I ever could.”
Paul could only nod. When it came to animals, Buddy Miller had the patience of a saint.
“And when I saw how she and PJ played together,” Charlotte continued. “Well, I’d feel bad taking her away.”
“I understand,” Paul said. But he didn’t really. It seemed as if Charlotte was making excuses for not having the dog underfoot. He knew as well as any man that dogs came with all sorts of temperaments and personalities, and it just seemed that Goldie was a little more wound up than most. Mix that with the fact that he was pretty sure Charlotte had only gotten the dog because she was missing Jenna, and not because she truly wanted one.... Well, it made for a bad combination.
Not that he thought Charlotte was a bad person. She was struggling, that was all, and trying to do her best to make up for the losses in her life. He couldn’t find fault with her for that.
“Maybe you should do what Amos did,” Paul suggested.
Amos Fisher had decided that he wanted a dog, so he had gone out and adopted one from the animal shelter. He had gotten an older dog. Amos had said he didn’t want one that barked at every little sound and ran around crazy like puppies were prone to do.
At the sound of Amos’s name, Charlotte pressed her lips together.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Amos. Everyone liked Amos. But Paul knew that Amos was taking Nadine away from Charlotte. Just one more loss in her life that she had to face.
Amos had recently traveled back to Missouri to spend some time with his people there. He had been gone when Charlotte and her family had moved to Wells Landing. But when he’d come back, he had fallen instantly in love with Nadine and now the two were a steady couple. Everyone was talking about when they might get married, though they had made no intention known. It was just a matter of time. Everyone in Wells Landing knew it. And when Nadine got married, Charlotte would be truly alone. Jenna was married to Buddy and living with the Lamberts. Once Nadine was married to Amos, they would live in his trailer on the piece of land where he was starting to build a big, beautiful house for her. And Charlotte would be left alone to rattle around the house that he was certain she’d thought she would stay in with her family forever.
“Change is hard,” Paul said.
Charlotte flipped her prayer covering strings over her shoulder. Only recently had she been going around with them untied. Paul had noticed, but he wasn’t sure if anyone else had. Certainly, when it came to small details like that, most Amish were very attentive. He just couldn’t figure out the nature of her rebellion. If he could even call it that. He wasn’t sure anyone cared whether her strings were tied or not. And he certainly couldn’t figure out what rebelling would do to stop this slow trickle of loss in her life.
“Don’t I know it.” Then, as if she realized who she was talking to, she let out a quick breath and reached across the table toward him.
Her hand touched his so briefly; then, as if remembering her place, she pulled away. Not quick enough that the softness of her skin didn’t register against his own.
“I didn’t mean that,” she said.
He hoped she was talking about her words and not the small, elegant touch.
Regardless, Paul nodded. He had been through a lot in his life. He had lost his wife to cancer and one son to the sunshine of the Pinecraft Amish community in Florida. But he had gained a few things along the way. His son Obie had married Clara Rose Yutzy and started a family. They had taken over the family house, so Paul and the other two boys lived in a trailer behind the main house. It was good enough for him. He didn’t need much, and he wanted Obadiah and Clara Rose to have plenty of room for their family. Obie’s twin brother, Zeb, had come back from Florida for a time, then married Ivy Weaver. Zeb had moved her and her grandfather down to Florida with him. Paul supposed he could chalk them up as a loss in life. He hadn’t seen his son in years; then Zeb had returned only to leave again. But Paul would rather think that he’d gotten a friend in her grandfather and another daughter in Ivy.
There were gains to be seen, marks for the “pro” column, if only he looked hard enough. And he figured it was worth the effort.
From where they sat in the kitchen, he heard the front door open and close.
Charlotte immediately stiffened. “Nadine,” she said quietly. Paul was used to the change in her manner. Poor Charlotte couldn’t see what was in front of her through the losses that clouded her way. And she had lost a lot, but Paul had learned long ago that focusing on the bad things just seemed to make it worse, so he would rather focus on the good.
He wasn’t able to reply as Nadine swept into the kitchen, a smile on her face. At sixty-five, she looked much younger, but he supposed love would do that to a person. He just wished he could do that for Charlotte.
Charlotte’s back stiffened as Nadine greeted Paul. It wasn’t that Charlotte had done anything wrong. But she knew something was wrong inside her. Regardless of Paul’s assurances.
She didn’t like to talk about it, or maybe she didn’t want to face the truth. There had already been too many changes.
“You’re back, I see,” Charlotte said unnecessarily. Immediately, she wished to call the words back, but it had been that way lately. It seemed as if her mouth ran before she even thought about what she was saying. And that was not like her at all. She would always stand up and speak her mind, but never in such a hurtful manner. She felt a lot like Velma Byler, an old woman in their church district who saw fit to grumble about everything from the weather to the color of the sky. She walked with a cane, and though the Amish were considered to be nonviolent people, Velma had a tendency to “accidentally” whack people in the shins with that hard cherrywood walking stick.
Was that her fate? Was Charlotte destined to be the next Velma Byler? The thought deepened her sadness until she thought she might drown in it. Every day was a struggle. And she hated it. And she hated that she hated it. And that made it worse. So bad that getting out of bed was a chore. Getting dressed was a chore. Fixing her hair, walking down the stairs, cooking breakfast, sitting down at the table to eat. Everything felt like too much effort, and the longer she felt that way, the worse it seemed to get. She had no idea how to get over it.
“You really should come with us sometime.” Nadine moved to the coffeepot. She retrieved a mug from one of the cabinets and filled it with the fresh brew.
Charlotte tamped back her annoyance. She had no right to be annoyed. She had made the coffee for people to drink, and Nadine certainly fit into the category of people. But somehow it annoyed her all the same. It seemed the only person that didn’t annoy her these days was sitting across from her.
Paul.
He had been her rock, her sounding board, as the English say. He had listened to her rant and fuss and cry and try to work through all these problems that seemed to be piling on top of her one by one. It might’ve been okay if they had been loose in their structure, but it seemed as if they had been set by a brickmason one by one, offset for strength with mortar in between. Even the visual that it presented was crushing.
“Fishing?” Charlotte said as Paul said, “I’d love to.”
Charlotte looked to her friend. “You want to go fishing?”
“Of course. I love fishing.”
“How can sitting on the edge of the pond with a pole in the water just waiting for some poor creature to come bite the end of it be considered a good time?” The moment she said the words, she wished she hadn’t spoken. She had gone fishing before. Why was it such a bad time now? Maybe because sitting and relaxing in that manner made her feel like she wasn’t working on the problem at hand. She didn’t know. She only knew the bubbling anger and resentment that seemed to own her these days.
Nadine started scooping sugar and powdered creamer into her coffee, and Charlotte had to bite back her protest. Nadine had drunk her coffee with three sugars and four creams ever since Charlotte had first met her. It had never bothered Charlotte before now. But it seemed things had changed. It did bother her. A lot.
Thankfully, she stopped the words of protest before they escaped her lips. But she knew Nadine had seen her frown. She wanted to apologize but couldn’t bring the words to her lips.
“It’s relaxing,” Nadine said. “You should try it sometime. Really. It might make you feel a little . . . better.”
“I feel fine, thank you.” But a bigger lie she didn’t remember ever telling. Even when her husband, Daniel, had died, and everyone asked her if she was okay. Even then, she’d told the truth. That she was struggling but managing, that she missed him but knew he was in God’s hands. The pain had been so intense, the hole his death left in her life immense, but she’d had Jenna. Her daughter had needed her, and she had continued on. So what was different about now? What made the loss of Jenna, not even to death but merely to marriage, and the impending loss of Nadine in the same manner . . . what made this harder to deal with than the permanent loss of the man she loved? It just didn’t make sense.
“So,” Charlotte started, not liking the sharpness of her tone, but once it was out there, what could she do? “Have you set a date?”
Nadine took a tentative sip of her coffee, then flipped one hand in Charlotte’s direction. “We’re in no hurry.” And that was something Charlotte couldn’t understand either. Why weren’t they in a hurry to start a new life together? She was certain it would be better if they went ahead and got married now instead of dragging it out indefinitely. It would be better for her at any rate. Kind of like ripping off a bandage when it was stuck to the skin too tight. Of course, sometimes that took a lot of the skin and some of the hair with it, but wasn’t it better to get it done in one fell swoop? Maybe then Charlotte could bounce back to herself.
“We just haven’t made a decision yet.” Nadine set her coffee cup back on the table and gave Charlotte and Paul a secretive smile. At least Charlotte felt like it was secretive.
It was common for older couples starting their second marriage not to make such a big deal out of things, to keep their dating a secret and only announce the wedding just a couple of months before. But as Wells Landing grew, so did the population and the number of weddings. There were only so many days in a week and only so many weeks in the wedding season. Sometimes couples announced their wedding a year in advance in order to secure a date for their nuptials. But truly what decision needed to be made? She knew as well as Nadine and Amos that they would get married. And once that happened, Charlotte would be left truly by herself.
She didn’t even have her dog now. Maybe she should bring Goldie back from the Lamberts’. It wouldn’t be long before Nadine was gone and Charlotte was left alone in the house to rattle around with no one but the buggy horse for company. Perhaps she should move to a smaller place. But the thought of that was worse than thinking about being left in this house all by herself.
While she had been mulling over every little detail of her life and obsessing over the fact that she would soon be abandoned by those she loved, Paul had finished his coffee. He stood and stretched his legs, the action surprising Charlotte. It was something he did every time he got ready to leave. She just wasn’t sure why he was leaving just yet. Maybe her attitude was chasing him away. She really needed to do something to figure out what was causing her surliness so she could get over it already and go on. She would add it to her prayers tonight. Maybe even this afternoon.
“You’re leaving?” Charlotte asked.
“I need to get back to the house. Thanks for the offer to go fishing, Nadine. I’m going to take you up on it.”
“I’ll make sure you do.” Nadine smiled.
A little zing of jealousy zipped through Charlotte. Nadine and Paul were happily talking about fishing, doing things together, but as friends. She and Paul used to have similar chats. What had happened to that easy banter in her life? She had no idea, but the problems that were weighing on her were beginning to become tiresome, a burden she needed to figure out what to do with, and soon.
She walked Paul to the door and stood on the porch, watching as he started off across the field that separated their houses. It was nothing but wildflowers and various weeds, but come the fall, it would be baled as hay. Yet now, in April, it was nothing but ground covering.
She sensed, rather than heard, Nadine step out onto the porch next to her. “Are you okay today?” Nadine asked.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “Of course.” Another lie. The problem was growing and Nadine knew it as well as she.
“You don’t seem like yourself lately.”
I’ve not felt like myself lately. But Charlotte bit back the words. It wasn’t something she could admit out loud. It was just something she was going to have to fix inside herself. “Change in the weather, I suppose.”
Nadine made a noise in her throat, almost a protest but not quite. They both knew that other changes on the horizon were giving her these problems. But Nadine wasn’t ready to come right out and say anything. Not yet anyway.
“Everything’s fine,” Charlotte said, though they both knew it wasn’t the truth.
“Will you come on?”
At Nadine’s impatiently asked question, Charlotte bustled from the kitchen after checking the stove for the third time that morning. Which wouldn’t have been a problem except they had cold cereal with milk and a piece of fruit for breakfast. The stove hadn’t been on since yesterday. They hadn’t even made coffee. And yet she felt the need to check it three times as if something were missing in her life.
Halfway across the living room, she came to a screeching halt, then doubled back to look at herself in the mirror in the downstairs hallway. It seemed no matter how much baby lotion she used, her hair still held a frizzy look. As if it echoed her thoughts, standing on end, frazzled, unable to sit still. She smoothed back some of the strands, noticing now, even more than yesterday, the overwhelming gray. Her hair had been dark her entire life, and she had wondered if perhaps she would go prematurely gray sometime in her twenties, but that never happened. Now, at forty-three, she seemed to be graying by the hour. Not that it mattered. It shouldn’t matter. Except those gray hairs represented the passage of time that she couldn’t recall. What had happened? Where had it all gone? And with Nadine soon to marry Amos Fisher and Jenna already married to Buddy Miller, Charlotte felt left behind. That was the only way she could describe it.
“Charlotte!” Nadine called from the front door. “We need to get out of here or we’re going to be late.”
Charlotte ignored the wrinkles fanning out from her eyes and the skin that just wasn’t quite as firm as it had been before and hurried toward the door.
“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly as she rushed out of the house. She stopped on the first step, almost unable to control the urge to run back inside and check the stove even though she had just checked it. But had she looked to make sure it was completely off, or had she just looked at the burner? She couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t she remember? And why did it matter? If it had been on, it had been on all night. It was gas. Surely they would have figured it out by now.
“Get in the buggy. I checked the stove myself. Everything’s okay.” At the sound of Nadine’s softly spoken words, tears sprang into Charlotte’s eyes. Maybe she was losing her mind after all, and Paul just didn’t want to tell her. But she didn’t want to accept that either. Paul was her best friend. He had held her steady through these crazy times, and she wouldn’t know what to do without him. She surely hoped that someone that important in her life would always tell her the truth.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said again. How many times had she apologized? And somehow, even as she felt she needed to hush, she wanted to say the words again. Maybe she should set up a jar and make herself put a dollar in it every time she apologized. Like one of those English families that were trying to stop their kids from using ugly words and had a ‘swear jar.’ Maybe she could just put in a quarter, but she wasn’t sure how it would work exactly. What was she going to do with the money when she was done? It didn’t matter—she knew she needed to stop apologizing for every little thing, however she managed to accomplish it. She felt stuck in the mud like a tractor that had lost its traction, back tires spinning, trying, trying, trying to go somewhere, but unable to move forward or even backward. She sighed, then hopped up inside the buggy. “Did you get the food?” she asked, then started to get back down.
Nadine stopped her with one hand on her arm. “I’ve got everything. You just need to take a breath and calm down. It’s all okay.”
She knew Nadine understood too, but somehow Nadine’s understanding and Paul’s understanding were two different things. Nadine was trying to be supportive. Paul had lived through it as well, and suddenly Charlotte wished that she had taken him with her to church. Maybe they should have run by and picked him up. It wasn’t as if he lived far away. And then she would be able to ride home from church with him and at least have some company because chances were that once the service ended and they ate their afternoon meal, Nadine would most likely ride home with Amos. And that left Charlotte dangling, whipping in the wind, hanging alone. Kind of like one of those fly strips they used to keep on the back porch.
Had she really just compared herself to a fly strip? She surely needed to get a hold of herself, and quickly. She was either apologizing or snapping someone’s head off, and neither could continue. She was going to chase away the people that she did have around her if she didn’t remember how to treat them. No, that wasn’t right. She knew how to treat them. She just couldn’t seem to make herself bring forth those manners that had been instilled in her when she was a child. It was as if someone else had taken over her body, pretending to be her while acting up and trying to push everyone away.
“I don’t mean to,” Charlotte said.
Nadine nodded, but didn’t take her eyes from the road ahead. Still, she reached out a hand and patted Charlotte on the knee in a reassuring manner.
Charlotte could never say that she and her mother-. . .
Paul Brennaman sat back in his seat at Charlotte’s kitchen table and waited for her to pour her own cup and ease down into her chair. He tested the brew with a small sip. Perfect.
“Do you think . . .” She paused as if reluctant to say the words that followed. “Do you think I’m losing my mind?” She waited patiently, nearly browbeaten, for him to reply.
“Of course not,” he assured her.
Still, she didn’t breathe.
“Really, Charlotte. You’ve been through a lot.” And that was just taking into account everything that had happened to the woman and her family since they had moved to Oklahoma.
Paul had been neighbors with Charlotte Burkhart, her mother-in-law, and her daughter since they had moved to Wells Landing from Yoder, Kansas. That was over a year ago. Now Jenna had moved out and married Buddy Miller. They both lived on the camel farm with Titus and Abbie Lambert and Abbie’s parents, Emmanuel and Priscilla King. It was an interesting setup. Not just because Titus and Buddy milked the camels and sold their product for a small fortune to the English, but Buddy and Jenna had . . . special brains. He supposed that was the best way to put it. Buddy had something that folks called Down syndrome. It wasn’t harmful, just made him process things a little slower than some. And he had a different look to his cheeks and eyes. But you couldn’t ask to meet a nicer young man. Jenna had sustained damage to her brain in a swimming accident when she was a preteen. The lack of oxygen had left her with the mind of a much younger girl, but as far as Paul could see, she got along just fine. Yet he understood that it was easier for him to acknowledge this, standing on the outside. When Jenna and Buddy had first wanted to date, neither one of their families had seemed keen on the idea. In fact, the Millers—Gertie, Buddy’s mamm in particular—had seemed downright opposed to the idea. Somehow, the young couple had managed to bring their parents around, and now every time Paul saw them, they seemed nothing but happy.
Buddy helped Titus with the camels, and Jenna helped Abbie with her toddler girls, a more identical pair of twins he’d challenge you to find.
Then Charlotte’s mother-in-law, Nadine, had gone and fallen in love with Amos Fisher. Not that it was a bad thing. Amos was a good man. He seemed to be kind enough and Paul suspected he would take good care of Nadine, but between moving to a different state and losing her daughter to marriage and eventually her mother-in-law to the same, Charlotte’s confidence had taken quite a hit.
Finally, she exhaled. “If you think so.”
He wanted to reach across the table and cover her hand with his, but he managed to refrain. It wasn’t the nature of their relationship, though the more time he spent with Charlotte, the more time he wanted to spend with her. During the last couple of months, just since the weather started to turn nice again, he and Charlotte had become good friends.
“I do.” He cleared his throat. “After Marie died, I did the same thing.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows raised. “You checked the stove to see if it’s off and the water to make sure it wasn’t turned on every time you left the house?”
He nodded with a rueful twist of his mouth. “My worry was the windows and the barn. I don’t know why I thought I needed to check the barn, since the horse was with me. We only had one horse at the time, but I had to make sure the barn was locked up.”
His words made her smile. Well, he hoped it was his words that brought that curve to her lips. He wanted it to be. And what he said was the truth. When his wife had passed away suddenly, he had felt lost and adrift, much like Charlotte felt now.
“Maybe you would feel better if you had Goldie back here,” he continued.
Goldie was the golden retriever that Charlotte had gotten from Paul’s son Obie. Obie had been raising golden retriever puppies for many years now. And he raised some of the finest dogs in Wells Landing.
Charlotte sighed and stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “She’s so rambunctious.”
Paul suppressed a chuckle. “She’ll get better as she gets older.”
Charlotte shook her head. “She’s almost a year old. And she doesn’t mind worth anything.”
“Training a dog takes patience,” he confirmed.
“And that’s why I sent her over to the Lamberts. I figured Buddy could do a better job with her than I ever could.”
Paul could only nod. When it came to animals, Buddy Miller had the patience of a saint.
“And when I saw how she and PJ played together,” Charlotte continued. “Well, I’d feel bad taking her away.”
“I understand,” Paul said. But he didn’t really. It seemed as if Charlotte was making excuses for not having the dog underfoot. He knew as well as any man that dogs came with all sorts of temperaments and personalities, and it just seemed that Goldie was a little more wound up than most. Mix that with the fact that he was pretty sure Charlotte had only gotten the dog because she was missing Jenna, and not because she truly wanted one.... Well, it made for a bad combination.
Not that he thought Charlotte was a bad person. She was struggling, that was all, and trying to do her best to make up for the losses in her life. He couldn’t find fault with her for that.
“Maybe you should do what Amos did,” Paul suggested.
Amos Fisher had decided that he wanted a dog, so he had gone out and adopted one from the animal shelter. He had gotten an older dog. Amos had said he didn’t want one that barked at every little sound and ran around crazy like puppies were prone to do.
At the sound of Amos’s name, Charlotte pressed her lips together.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Amos. Everyone liked Amos. But Paul knew that Amos was taking Nadine away from Charlotte. Just one more loss in her life that she had to face.
Amos had recently traveled back to Missouri to spend some time with his people there. He had been gone when Charlotte and her family had moved to Wells Landing. But when he’d come back, he had fallen instantly in love with Nadine and now the two were a steady couple. Everyone was talking about when they might get married, though they had made no intention known. It was just a matter of time. Everyone in Wells Landing knew it. And when Nadine got married, Charlotte would be truly alone. Jenna was married to Buddy and living with the Lamberts. Once Nadine was married to Amos, they would live in his trailer on the piece of land where he was starting to build a big, beautiful house for her. And Charlotte would be left alone to rattle around the house that he was certain she’d thought she would stay in with her family forever.
“Change is hard,” Paul said.
Charlotte flipped her prayer covering strings over her shoulder. Only recently had she been going around with them untied. Paul had noticed, but he wasn’t sure if anyone else had. Certainly, when it came to small details like that, most Amish were very attentive. He just couldn’t figure out the nature of her rebellion. If he could even call it that. He wasn’t sure anyone cared whether her strings were tied or not. And he certainly couldn’t figure out what rebelling would do to stop this slow trickle of loss in her life.
“Don’t I know it.” Then, as if she realized who she was talking to, she let out a quick breath and reached across the table toward him.
Her hand touched his so briefly; then, as if remembering her place, she pulled away. Not quick enough that the softness of her skin didn’t register against his own.
“I didn’t mean that,” she said.
He hoped she was talking about her words and not the small, elegant touch.
Regardless, Paul nodded. He had been through a lot in his life. He had lost his wife to cancer and one son to the sunshine of the Pinecraft Amish community in Florida. But he had gained a few things along the way. His son Obie had married Clara Rose Yutzy and started a family. They had taken over the family house, so Paul and the other two boys lived in a trailer behind the main house. It was good enough for him. He didn’t need much, and he wanted Obadiah and Clara Rose to have plenty of room for their family. Obie’s twin brother, Zeb, had come back from Florida for a time, then married Ivy Weaver. Zeb had moved her and her grandfather down to Florida with him. Paul supposed he could chalk them up as a loss in life. He hadn’t seen his son in years; then Zeb had returned only to leave again. But Paul would rather think that he’d gotten a friend in her grandfather and another daughter in Ivy.
There were gains to be seen, marks for the “pro” column, if only he looked hard enough. And he figured it was worth the effort.
From where they sat in the kitchen, he heard the front door open and close.
Charlotte immediately stiffened. “Nadine,” she said quietly. Paul was used to the change in her manner. Poor Charlotte couldn’t see what was in front of her through the losses that clouded her way. And she had lost a lot, but Paul had learned long ago that focusing on the bad things just seemed to make it worse, so he would rather focus on the good.
He wasn’t able to reply as Nadine swept into the kitchen, a smile on her face. At sixty-five, she looked much younger, but he supposed love would do that to a person. He just wished he could do that for Charlotte.
Charlotte’s back stiffened as Nadine greeted Paul. It wasn’t that Charlotte had done anything wrong. But she knew something was wrong inside her. Regardless of Paul’s assurances.
She didn’t like to talk about it, or maybe she didn’t want to face the truth. There had already been too many changes.
“You’re back, I see,” Charlotte said unnecessarily. Immediately, she wished to call the words back, but it had been that way lately. It seemed as if her mouth ran before she even thought about what she was saying. And that was not like her at all. She would always stand up and speak her mind, but never in such a hurtful manner. She felt a lot like Velma Byler, an old woman in their church district who saw fit to grumble about everything from the weather to the color of the sky. She walked with a cane, and though the Amish were considered to be nonviolent people, Velma had a tendency to “accidentally” whack people in the shins with that hard cherrywood walking stick.
Was that her fate? Was Charlotte destined to be the next Velma Byler? The thought deepened her sadness until she thought she might drown in it. Every day was a struggle. And she hated it. And she hated that she hated it. And that made it worse. So bad that getting out of bed was a chore. Getting dressed was a chore. Fixing her hair, walking down the stairs, cooking breakfast, sitting down at the table to eat. Everything felt like too much effort, and the longer she felt that way, the worse it seemed to get. She had no idea how to get over it.
“You really should come with us sometime.” Nadine moved to the coffeepot. She retrieved a mug from one of the cabinets and filled it with the fresh brew.
Charlotte tamped back her annoyance. She had no right to be annoyed. She had made the coffee for people to drink, and Nadine certainly fit into the category of people. But somehow it annoyed her all the same. It seemed the only person that didn’t annoy her these days was sitting across from her.
Paul.
He had been her rock, her sounding board, as the English say. He had listened to her rant and fuss and cry and try to work through all these problems that seemed to be piling on top of her one by one. It might’ve been okay if they had been loose in their structure, but it seemed as if they had been set by a brickmason one by one, offset for strength with mortar in between. Even the visual that it presented was crushing.
“Fishing?” Charlotte said as Paul said, “I’d love to.”
Charlotte looked to her friend. “You want to go fishing?”
“Of course. I love fishing.”
“How can sitting on the edge of the pond with a pole in the water just waiting for some poor creature to come bite the end of it be considered a good time?” The moment she said the words, she wished she hadn’t spoken. She had gone fishing before. Why was it such a bad time now? Maybe because sitting and relaxing in that manner made her feel like she wasn’t working on the problem at hand. She didn’t know. She only knew the bubbling anger and resentment that seemed to own her these days.
Nadine started scooping sugar and powdered creamer into her coffee, and Charlotte had to bite back her protest. Nadine had drunk her coffee with three sugars and four creams ever since Charlotte had first met her. It had never bothered Charlotte before now. But it seemed things had changed. It did bother her. A lot.
Thankfully, she stopped the words of protest before they escaped her lips. But she knew Nadine had seen her frown. She wanted to apologize but couldn’t bring the words to her lips.
“It’s relaxing,” Nadine said. “You should try it sometime. Really. It might make you feel a little . . . better.”
“I feel fine, thank you.” But a bigger lie she didn’t remember ever telling. Even when her husband, Daniel, had died, and everyone asked her if she was okay. Even then, she’d told the truth. That she was struggling but managing, that she missed him but knew he was in God’s hands. The pain had been so intense, the hole his death left in her life immense, but she’d had Jenna. Her daughter had needed her, and she had continued on. So what was different about now? What made the loss of Jenna, not even to death but merely to marriage, and the impending loss of Nadine in the same manner . . . what made this harder to deal with than the permanent loss of the man she loved? It just didn’t make sense.
“So,” Charlotte started, not liking the sharpness of her tone, but once it was out there, what could she do? “Have you set a date?”
Nadine took a tentative sip of her coffee, then flipped one hand in Charlotte’s direction. “We’re in no hurry.” And that was something Charlotte couldn’t understand either. Why weren’t they in a hurry to start a new life together? She was certain it would be better if they went ahead and got married now instead of dragging it out indefinitely. It would be better for her at any rate. Kind of like ripping off a bandage when it was stuck to the skin too tight. Of course, sometimes that took a lot of the skin and some of the hair with it, but wasn’t it better to get it done in one fell swoop? Maybe then Charlotte could bounce back to herself.
“We just haven’t made a decision yet.” Nadine set her coffee cup back on the table and gave Charlotte and Paul a secretive smile. At least Charlotte felt like it was secretive.
It was common for older couples starting their second marriage not to make such a big deal out of things, to keep their dating a secret and only announce the wedding just a couple of months before. But as Wells Landing grew, so did the population and the number of weddings. There were only so many days in a week and only so many weeks in the wedding season. Sometimes couples announced their wedding a year in advance in order to secure a date for their nuptials. But truly what decision needed to be made? She knew as well as Nadine and Amos that they would get married. And once that happened, Charlotte would be left truly by herself.
She didn’t even have her dog now. Maybe she should bring Goldie back from the Lamberts’. It wouldn’t be long before Nadine was gone and Charlotte was left alone in the house to rattle around with no one but the buggy horse for company. Perhaps she should move to a smaller place. But the thought of that was worse than thinking about being left in this house all by herself.
While she had been mulling over every little detail of her life and obsessing over the fact that she would soon be abandoned by those she loved, Paul had finished his coffee. He stood and stretched his legs, the action surprising Charlotte. It was something he did every time he got ready to leave. She just wasn’t sure why he was leaving just yet. Maybe her attitude was chasing him away. She really needed to do something to figure out what was causing her surliness so she could get over it already and go on. She would add it to her prayers tonight. Maybe even this afternoon.
“You’re leaving?” Charlotte asked.
“I need to get back to the house. Thanks for the offer to go fishing, Nadine. I’m going to take you up on it.”
“I’ll make sure you do.” Nadine smiled.
A little zing of jealousy zipped through Charlotte. Nadine and Paul were happily talking about fishing, doing things together, but as friends. She and Paul used to have similar chats. What had happened to that easy banter in her life? She had no idea, but the problems that were weighing on her were beginning to become tiresome, a burden she needed to figure out what to do with, and soon.
She walked Paul to the door and stood on the porch, watching as he started off across the field that separated their houses. It was nothing but wildflowers and various weeds, but come the fall, it would be baled as hay. Yet now, in April, it was nothing but ground covering.
She sensed, rather than heard, Nadine step out onto the porch next to her. “Are you okay today?” Nadine asked.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “Of course.” Another lie. The problem was growing and Nadine knew it as well as she.
“You don’t seem like yourself lately.”
I’ve not felt like myself lately. But Charlotte bit back the words. It wasn’t something she could admit out loud. It was just something she was going to have to fix inside herself. “Change in the weather, I suppose.”
Nadine made a noise in her throat, almost a protest but not quite. They both knew that other changes on the horizon were giving her these problems. But Nadine wasn’t ready to come right out and say anything. Not yet anyway.
“Everything’s fine,” Charlotte said, though they both knew it wasn’t the truth.
“Will you come on?”
At Nadine’s impatiently asked question, Charlotte bustled from the kitchen after checking the stove for the third time that morning. Which wouldn’t have been a problem except they had cold cereal with milk and a piece of fruit for breakfast. The stove hadn’t been on since yesterday. They hadn’t even made coffee. And yet she felt the need to check it three times as if something were missing in her life.
Halfway across the living room, she came to a screeching halt, then doubled back to look at herself in the mirror in the downstairs hallway. It seemed no matter how much baby lotion she used, her hair still held a frizzy look. As if it echoed her thoughts, standing on end, frazzled, unable to sit still. She smoothed back some of the strands, noticing now, even more than yesterday, the overwhelming gray. Her hair had been dark her entire life, and she had wondered if perhaps she would go prematurely gray sometime in her twenties, but that never happened. Now, at forty-three, she seemed to be graying by the hour. Not that it mattered. It shouldn’t matter. Except those gray hairs represented the passage of time that she couldn’t recall. What had happened? Where had it all gone? And with Nadine soon to marry Amos Fisher and Jenna already married to Buddy Miller, Charlotte felt left behind. That was the only way she could describe it.
“Charlotte!” Nadine called from the front door. “We need to get out of here or we’re going to be late.”
Charlotte ignored the wrinkles fanning out from her eyes and the skin that just wasn’t quite as firm as it had been before and hurried toward the door.
“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly as she rushed out of the house. She stopped on the first step, almost unable to control the urge to run back inside and check the stove even though she had just checked it. But had she looked to make sure it was completely off, or had she just looked at the burner? She couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t she remember? And why did it matter? If it had been on, it had been on all night. It was gas. Surely they would have figured it out by now.
“Get in the buggy. I checked the stove myself. Everything’s okay.” At the sound of Nadine’s softly spoken words, tears sprang into Charlotte’s eyes. Maybe she was losing her mind after all, and Paul just didn’t want to tell her. But she didn’t want to accept that either. Paul was her best friend. He had held her steady through these crazy times, and she wouldn’t know what to do without him. She surely hoped that someone that important in her life would always tell her the truth.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said again. How many times had she apologized? And somehow, even as she felt she needed to hush, she wanted to say the words again. Maybe she should set up a jar and make herself put a dollar in it every time she apologized. Like one of those English families that were trying to stop their kids from using ugly words and had a ‘swear jar.’ Maybe she could just put in a quarter, but she wasn’t sure how it would work exactly. What was she going to do with the money when she was done? It didn’t matter—she knew she needed to stop apologizing for every little thing, however she managed to accomplish it. She felt stuck in the mud like a tractor that had lost its traction, back tires spinning, trying, trying, trying to go somewhere, but unable to move forward or even backward. She sighed, then hopped up inside the buggy. “Did you get the food?” she asked, then started to get back down.
Nadine stopped her with one hand on her arm. “I’ve got everything. You just need to take a breath and calm down. It’s all okay.”
She knew Nadine understood too, but somehow Nadine’s understanding and Paul’s understanding were two different things. Nadine was trying to be supportive. Paul had lived through it as well, and suddenly Charlotte wished that she had taken him with her to church. Maybe they should have run by and picked him up. It wasn’t as if he lived far away. And then she would be able to ride home from church with him and at least have some company because chances were that once the service ended and they ate their afternoon meal, Nadine would most likely ride home with Amos. And that left Charlotte dangling, whipping in the wind, hanging alone. Kind of like one of those fly strips they used to keep on the back porch.
Had she really just compared herself to a fly strip? She surely needed to get a hold of herself, and quickly. She was either apologizing or snapping someone’s head off, and neither could continue. She was going to chase away the people that she did have around her if she didn’t remember how to treat them. No, that wasn’t right. She knew how to treat them. She just couldn’t seem to make herself bring forth those manners that had been instilled in her when she was a child. It was as if someone else had taken over her body, pretending to be her while acting up and trying to push everyone away.
“I don’t mean to,” Charlotte said.
Nadine nodded, but didn’t take her eyes from the road ahead. Still, she reached out a hand and patted Charlotte on the knee in a reassuring manner.
Charlotte could never say that she and her mother-. . .
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
A New Love for Charlotte
Amy Lillard
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