An Amish Homecoming

Book 1: Joyful River

by Rosalind Lauer

Genres: Christian Fiction; Romance

Synopsis

Author Rosalind Lauer weaves a patchwork quilt of life and love in the Pennsylvania Amish community of Joyful River, where new beginnings and old ways meet with faith, hope, and compassion . . .



Essie Lapp's birthday is doubly blessed. There's a delicious meal to savor with her family, and the sweet gift of time spent with her beau, Harlan. Over two years they've forged a bond as strong and hopeful as a tree reaching for the sky. To practical-minded Essie, there's comfort in knowing exactly what her future will bring. Yet Gott has his plan, and it soon turns her family's world upside down . . .



Essie's widowed English uncle has brought his troubled teenage daughters back to their mother's Amish community, convinced it's the fresh start they need. Essie strives to welcome her cousins, but adapting to plain living won't be easy, even if the rewards are great. As cultures clash and hearts collide, Essie feels the first stirrings of doubt about Harlan's commitment to her. Yet as the seasons change, and the heat of summer gives way to crisp, ripe autumn, this homecoming might mean a bountiful beginning . . .

Release date: February 23, 2021

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 252

Sample

With fields of green and the sun setting pink and orange against the rolling hills, the yard was pretty as a summer page from a calendar. In the distance, the twins were playing cornhole with Lizzie, while little Sarah Rose pushed herself on the tire swing, chattering to no one in particular. A perfect day for daughter Essie’s celebration. Miriam Lapp let her eyes roam the yard and imagined how it might be transformed for the event that was bound to happen once wedding season rolled around in October.

They would put a new coat of paint on the barn door, and trim back the bushes along the fence line to make space for the wedding tent. They would bring in the rented wagons with benches and china for dining, as well as ovens, sinks, and stoves for food preparation. Inside the house, they would scrub the walls, wash the windows, and wax the floors. An Amish home had best be clean and shiny when hosting a wedding.

Their oldest daughter’s wedding! Joy danced in Miriam’s heart, making her giggle.

She hadn’t dared mention it to Alvin, who would have reminded her to keep patient. Essie and Harlan weren’t even engaged yet, but anyone could see the spark in their daughter’s eyes whenever Harlan was near. Their Essie was in love, and Harlan had it bad as well. The boy melted like ice cream when Essie spoke. He’d been invited today to celebrate Essie’s eighteenth birthday, and Miriam wouldn’t be surprised if those two got engaged before the sun went down.

Miriam let the screen door close behind her and squinted against the lemony sun of the late afternoon. The picnic tables were set for dinner, the mouthwatering aroma of grilled chicken filled the air, and wisps of smoke rose from the charcoal grill where her team of cooks was finishing the last of the roasting for Essie’s special dinner.

“How do you know when they’re done?” Annie asked her grandmother.

“The kabobs need to soften a bit,” Esther said. “We want a little black around the edges. A few more minutes, and we’ll have a fine meal without heating up the kitchen on this hot August day.”

That had been Miriam’s plan. This week the thermometer in this part of Lancaster County had been soaring to the nineties. They needed to do what they could to keep the house cool. “You know, most of the vegetables came right from our garden. The tomatoes are sweet as candy, and the zucchini seems to grow bigger overnight. Alvin will be happy for zucchini bread.”

“Yes, Gott is good to provide such a bountiful garden for us,” Esther said as she supervised the grilling process. Since it was the eldest daughter’s birthday, cooking duties had fallen on sixteen-year-old Annie, who kept offering the tongs to her grandmother. Annie preferred stable duty to kitchen tasks.

“Do you want to take over, Mammi?” Annie asked. “You’re such a good cook. You make everything taste better.”

“You’ll learn with time and practice.” With ten grown children of her own, Esther was too wise to fall for Annie’s flattery. “Keep going until you finish.”

“You’re doing a great job, Annie,” Miriam said, moving the platters of roasted chicken over to the picnic tables, which had been set with checkered tablecloths and enough plates and flatware for eleven people. A warm breeze shimmered through the trees on the fence line, filling the air with the scent of lilac. The clip-clop of horses’ hooves drew her attention to the driveway, where the family buggy had turned in from the main road. “Looks like our men are back from their errands,” Miriam said.

“My sons are never late for dinner.” Esther’s tone was flat, but Miriam knew she was joking. Under that stoic façade lay a heart of gold and a fine sense of humor.

“Can I be done now?” Annie asked. She lifted a kabob with the tongs, nodded, and placed it on the platter.

“I’d say so,” Miriam said. “Looks like everything’s ready. Everything but the birthday girl. Where’s Essie? And Harlan’s supposed to be here.”

“He got here half an hour ago,” Annie reported. “Essie went for a walk with him. And she’s wearing her Sunday dress.”

“They went down to the river,” Esther said, untying her cooking apron.

Miriam couldn’t help but smile at the sweet notion of the two of them dipping their toes in the cool, clear waters. Those two might be engaged by the time they made it to the supper table! She took the platter of kabobs from Annie. “Go get your brothers and sisters to wash their hands. And send one of the twins down to the river to fetch Essie and Harlan.”

“Which one?”

“Let them go together. They can make it a race.” As Miriam placed the platter on the table, her husband lumbered toward her with only a slight hitch in his gait. You’d never know that he’d suffered a torn ligament recently when a cow had knocked into him in the milking barn. Gott had blessed him with quick healing. “You’re back, in the nick of time.”

“The smell of chicken guided us home.” He patted her shoulder, lifted his hat, and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. The outer edges of his eyes had laugh lines that were permanent now, and it delighted her to know that this man always had a smile in his heart, always had a hug for his children or a kind word for folks who needed it. Ah, when there was true love in a man’s heart, it shone in his eyes. She always told her girls that; she hoped that it helped them find happiness with their husbands.

“Can we eat now?” Lizzie asked as she skipped toward the table and noticed the chicken and kabobs piled high.

“Go wash your hands; take Sarah Rose, too.”

“I can take myself, Mem,” the little girl said as she trudged past the tables toward the house. Her dress was smudged with a grass stain, her kapp slightly askew.

“Our bundle of energy,” Alvin observed. “One of the first up in the morning, and she’s still going strong. I don’t know how she does it.”

“She’s got your energy, Alvie. Did you find the mason jars in town?”

“We did,” he said. “Three dozen of them. That should be enough for Essie’s jam.”

“With the strawberries ripening so fast in our garden, and all those wild blackberries along the road, you never know.”

“If we need more, we’ll go back to Melvin’s dry goods store,” Sam said as he approached from the lane, where he’d tied Brownie to the post, planning to unhitch the buggy after dinner. Sam was twenty, their oldest son, and a big help around the dairy farm since Alvin’s injury. “Why did you need so many?”

“Essie’s having a jamming frolic with her friends. Many hands make quick work, and it’s a blessing that she’s taken over that task for me,” Miriam said.

The children were filing out of the house, taking their seats at the table as Alvin’s mother poured lemonade and water. Paul and Peter came running around the side of the house.

“They’re coming,” Peter called as he whipped open the screen door and disappeared inside to wash up. Paul caught the door before it closed and sent it flying open again.

“Boys.” Alvin sighed. “They’re hard on a house.”

“They’ll learn,” Esther said. “Boys don’t know their own might.”

Smiling, Miriam waited for her husband to take a seat on the bench. It was a slower process since the injury, but like most men, Alvin didn’t want any more assistance than was absolutely necessary.

This was one of the finest hours, their family assembling for a meal at the end of the day, about to share the bounty of Gott’s blessing. They had much to be grateful for here in Joyful River. Miriam breathed in the scents of their dinner, the flowers, the grass, and the summer evening as her gaze swept over the broad lawn.

The flash of something metallic in the distance caught her eye. A car on the road. A Jeep coming down their lane. Visitors? Or some English folk who’d taken a wrong turn?

The vehicle pressed on with determination, convincing her that it was someone they knew. “Looks like we have visitors.”

All eyes turned toward the lane, where tires crunched on gravel as the car drew closer. The vehicle made a wide sweep around the tethered horse and buggy and pulled up to the stretch of green lawn.

“Who is it?” Lizzie asked, putting down her lemonade.

It was hard to tell, with the windows shaded to the color of ash, but the mystery was soon solved when one door opened and a tall, lanky man emerged from the driver seat.

“It’s your Uncle Sully,” Miriam told the children. “Looks like the girls, too.”

“Did they drive over all the way from Philadelphia?” asked Alvin.

Miriam shrugged. “I haven’t heard from them since . . . since Sarah’s passing.” It had been a rainy week in May, more than a year ago, when Miriam had gotten word that her sister had passed. Ovarian cancer had struck hard, and Gott had taken her swiftly, leaving behind her loving husband and three daughters.

Miriam had told the children to dress in their church clothes, and Alvin had hired a van to drive them to Philly for the English funeral. It had been a strange sensation, going into Sarah’s house, sitting in her kitchen at a shiny marble counter and looking out into the garden plot, trees dripping overhead. It was a gift to see Sarah’s world just one time, a picture of how her older sister had lived in the two decades since she’d left her family and her Amish community behind.

Sully raised his hand in a greeting, but as he approached his shoulders sagged and he seemed weary. Gray, as if age had been sapping the color from him. The man her sister Sarah had once fallen in love with, fallen so hard that she up and left their family, left the plain way of living, was in a bad way. He almost looked worse than he had the last time she’d seen him, over a year ago at Sarah’s funeral.

He paused, turned back, motioned toward the vehicle. “Come on out, girls,” he called. “Time to face the music.”

The Lapp family was unusually silent as the other doors opened, and one by one Sully’s daughters, Miriam’s own nieces emerged. First came Serena, one of the twins, her toffee brown hair falling like a shiny curtain over her shoulders. Always the social butterfly, she gave a nervous smile as she walked toward the family.

Miriam didn’t recognize the next girl who stepped out, a cute thing with pink hair and a ring in her nose. Could it be Grace, the youngest one? She was probably fifteen or sixteen by now, and, from the way she stared down at the ground as she followed Serena, it was clear she was not happy. Both girls wore little denim shorts and tops that seemed to be barely more than an undergarment adorned with thin ribbons and lace.

Then came Megan, quite similar to her twin, except her hair had been cut short and she dressed like an athlete in baggy shorts and an oversized T-shirt. She slammed the door of the Jeep, leaned against it, and folded her arms, clearly not eager to budge from her place.

Miriam asked Annie to go inside to fetch more plates and utensils, then hurried over to greet their visitors on the path.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise! When I saw that car coming down the road, I’d have never guessed it was you.”

“Miriam.” Sully took her hand between his and gave a warm squeeze. “Sorry to descend on you without notice.”

“Family is always welcome.” Alvin paused at Miriam’s side. “It’s good you’re here, just in time for supper.” His attempt at lightening things up was lost on Sully.

“I didn’t know where else to turn.” From this close, Miriam could see how worn-out Sully looked. “I’ve been up all night and all day, trying to think of a solution, a way to keep them safe.” He shook his head. “And you’re my only hope.”

Miriam pursed her lips, her heart aching for Sully and his family. “Tell us, what’s the problem?”

“The girls are a mess,” Sully said, his low voice raspy with misery. “I can’t think of any other way to save them. I need you to take my girls.”

Essie Lapp had noticed the visitors and their vehicle as soon as she and Harlan had rounded the corner of the house. As she’d drawn closer, she’d recognized her uncle and cousins, the English relatives who lived in the big city of Philadelphia. The dark, sad look in the girls’ eyes made it clear that they hadn’t driven out to be a part of Essie’s birthday celebration.

“Looks like some English visitors,” Harlan said.

“My uncle and cousins. You’ve met the girls. They used to visit with their mem.”

“The girls who lost their mem,” he said, sympathy glimmering in his amber eyes.

“That’s them.” As Harlan and Essie walked, her fingers traced the small, mounded petals of the flower Harlan had carved for her on a block of wood. A bookend, made by his very own hands. The weighted block could be used to keep her books in order, lined up on the dresser in the bedroom.

The carved flower was the most special gift she had ever received. It warmed her heart that Harlan had given her a practical gift that would complement the books that had entertained her over the years. But mostly, it was the hours he had spent carving and chiseling wood that made her smile. Whenever she saw the bookend, she would think of Harlan carving by the light of the kerosene lamp to make sure the flower was symmetrical, the wood smooth to the touch.

Her fingertips curved over the smooth ridges of the flower now, but it could not stop the storm looming ahead. Something was very wrong. Essie’s pulse quickened in that nervous way of an animal on alert as she and Harlan hurried toward Mem and Dat.

“Now, Sully, I’m sure you don’t mean this,” Mem said in a soothing voice.

“I do,” her uncle insisted. “It’s the only way.”

“I’m out.” Over on the gravel stone drive, cousin Megan pushed away from the car and started heading down the path that cut past the barn.

“Megan!” her twin sister hollered. “Where are you going? Come back here!”

Without turning back, Megan kept stalking off in the other direction.

“Where is she going?” Uncle Sully raked a hand back through his graying hair. “She shouldn’t be alone. She could be a danger to herself.”

A danger to herself? Wondering what that meant, Essie turned to Harlan, but there was only confusion in his warm amber eyes.

“Megan!” Sully shouted after her. “Come back!”

But Megan kept walking, prompting her sisters to call after her. Sarah Rose and Lizzie, the littlest Lapp children, chimed in, but Megan pretended not to hear anyone.

“Follow her,” Miriam told Essie.

Essie nodded, handing her carved bookend to Harlan for safekeeping. “What do I say?”

“Comfort her. I don’t know what’s going on, but Sully and all his girls seem out of sorts.”

Essie obeyed her mother, motioning to Harlan to stay put before she started off after her cousin. Such an unexpected twist in the celebration, like a sudden shift in the weather, but Essie couldn’t let it dampen her good mood.

The joy of Harlan’s special gift.

The wonder of his kiss.

“Your birthday is like a holiday,” he had teased, taking her hand in his as they sat on the rock ledge, overlooking the gurgling water. “Zed let me off work early so I could be here for your birthday dinner.”

“Don’t go getting in trouble with Zed on account of me,” she said, knowing how much Harlan needed the job at the furniture factory.

“You are the last girl who could be trouble,” he said, pressing his fingertips to the side of her face. The line he drew along her jawline sent little sparks of sensation down her neck. “That’s one of the things I love about you. Serious, practical Essie. You’ve got your feet on the ground, firmly planted.”

“Just like you.”

“Like me. The two of us are two strong trees, standing on solid ground, reaching for the sky.” He nodded toward the far riverbank, where two oaks stood side by side. “Like those trees there.”

With their straight trunks and upturned branches capped by fat green leaves, the trees seemed to be shouting: “Hooray!” The light breeze flickered through the round, green treetops, like a thousand glimmering fish in the pond.

“Those are good trees,” she told him. “Now, whenever I see them, I’ll think of us.” She tilted her head and squinted. “But tell, which one is me?”

He chuckled. “The prettiest one.”

“Now I know you’re just courting me.” Essie had never considered herself to be a beauty. With glossy brown hair the color of caramel and eyes just a bit darker, she knew that she fit into Gott’s world just fine, but she didn’t spend too much time looking in the mirror or fussing over her hair. During her rumspringa, when other girls snuck out of the house in English clothes and lipstick, Essie had stuck with her clean-scrubbed face, simple dresses, and kapp. There was too much to do in the course of a day to waste time painting faces and shopping for tight, impractical clothes.

“I am courting you. So I guess it’s working.” Harlan shifted toward her until their knees were touching and his face was just inches away. “It’s not every girl who sees the beauty in two trees, in the song of the river on the rocks, in a simple carved flower. I love you, Essie, and now that you’re eighteen, I hope you’ll have me as a husband just as soon as I can get enough money squared away.”

“You know I will.” Her heart seemed to grow in her chest as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss that swept over the sensitive nub at the center of her lips was both gentle and bold.

A whisper of love on the wind.

A searing brand, marking her as his one and only love.

She touched one fingertip to her lips now, wishing she could bring back the wondrous moment of their kiss, as well as the hopeful conversation about the future—their future. Although Harlan sometimes made decisions with the slowness of a man whose boots were stuck in the mud, he had mentioned once again that he hoped they could get engaged soon. Just as soon as he had saved enough money for them to build a place of their own. Harlan was so responsible that way. He didn’t want a repeat of what had happened to him, with his father leaving the family, and them losing their house. Although Mem said there was nothing shameful about living in an apartment, Harlan felt bad about it. Not that he would talk much about those very difficult years he’d gone through with his mem and sister, but Essie could tell.

When you loved someone, you got a little peek inside his heart.

After their sweet time together by the river, Essie hadn’t expected to be pulled away from Harlan at the sight of the English visitors. But here she was, trying to catch the girl, who seemed nimble as a deer.

“Megan!” she called. “Wait for me.” She hoped that her cousin would stop or slow down a bit so that she could catch up without running in her special church dress. But Megan kept streaking ahead at a swift pace.

With a huffing sigh, Essie broke into a run. Once she caught up, she wasn’t quite sure what she’d say to her cousin, besides asking what was wrong. Since Mem’s sister Sarah had jumped the fence, leaving Joyful River when she was eighteen and giving up the plain life, Mem and Aunt Sarah had drifted apart. But Mem always said that sisters are sisters for life, and Essie couldn’t imagine losing one of her own sisters to the English world.

Aunt Sarah had brought her girls around each summer, and all the cousins had made memories picking berries, yanking weeds in Mem’s garden, and swimming in the river. Over the years Essie and her siblings had enjoyed having her cousins around. Since Aunt Sarah had chosen not to be baptized, her exit from the community hadn’t been punished by a ban. There was no shunning, no sitting at separate tables or refusing to look her in the eye, as had happened with another couple in their community.

The evening heat was getting to Essie, and she could feel the perspiration on her forehead as she caught up to her cousin. “You’re moving fast for a hot day,” she said.

“I couldn’t stand to hang around there and listen to him tell the story again. I’m so sick of hearing how we all let him down. How disappointed he is that his daughters turned out to be an addict, a party girl, and a goth.”

Essie couldn’t quite digest these words, but she figured it was good to have her cousin talking. “He was worried about you going off on your own. Everyone was. Didn’t you hear them calling? Your dat said you could be in danger.”

“He has no idea.” Megan stared ahead, walking on.

“We should go back. Dinner is ready. Grilled chicken. Are you hungry?”

Megan shook her head. “Is this the way to the river?”

Essie glanced over her shoulder. “We usually cut down the path behind the house, but this will take you there eventually.”

“I’m going to jump in and float away and never come back.”

In all her life, Essie had never wished to float away from her family. Yah, she’d been annoyed with her brothers and sisters plenty of times, but in her heart, she always knew she belonged here. “I’m sure your family would miss you.”

“Not Dad. Didn’t you hear him? He doesn’t trust us to be alone, so he brought us here to dump us on your parents. As if we’re five-year-olds.”

“And why doesn’t he trust you?”

Megan pressed her hands to her cheeks and groaned. “So many reasons. It’s super complicated and super simple at the same time.”

“I’m all ears.”

“So, he’s mad at Serena because she sneaks out with boys and parties all night with her friends. Actually, there’s not much sneaking around, since Dad is almost never home at night. He’s a cop, and he works four to midnight. A lot of damage can be done during those hours,” Megan said. “Dad thinks she’s got a drinking problem, and Serena says no, but there’s always booze around when Serena’s with her friends.”

Essie kept silent. This was something she didn’t do, though she knew plenty of teenagers who went off to drink beer and whiskey. It was forbidden in their church, but teenagers on rumspringa often bent the rules, and most parents looked the other way.

“Dad’s been relying on Serena and me to be at home for Grace, but really? We’re only eighteen, and we have lives. Grace is still a kid. She n. . .