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Synopsis
In Rachel J. Good’s sweetly romantic inspirational series, a bustling Green Valley Farmer’s Market in Pennsylvania is the perfect place for residents of nearby Amish communities to find the partner of their dreams—when, and how, they least expect it! Will appeal to fans of Charlotte Hubbard, Amy Lillard, and Jennifer Beckstrand.
When widower Stephen Lapp moves his five children from New York State to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, his only plan is to buy his family’s farm stand, Lapp’s Pastured Pork. That way, his brother can move closer to his fiancée and open his own stand. But on Stephen’s first trip to the market, his brave act of kindness nearly ends in catastrophe—until strong-willed Nettie Hartzler saves him—and makes an impression he can’t forget . . .
A widow with private heartaches of her own, Nettie has no interest in getting involved with any man, though she doesn’t discourage their respective children’s new friendships—despite Stephen’s contentious oldest daughter. But when Nettie runs into serious money worries and Stephen proposes a marriage of convenience, she’s distressed and conflicted. She’s come to know Stephen’s gentle heart and generous soul, and she can’t believe he’ll want her if she reveals the sins of her past. God has His own plans for the faithful, however, and this time they may include a second chance at love . . .
Release date: August 23, 2022
Publisher: Zebra Books
Print pages: 352
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An Amish Marriage of Convenience
Rachel J. Good
Strong winds rattled the sides of the buggy as Stephen Lapp pulled into the Green Valley Farmer’s Market. Beside him, his twelve-year-old daughter, Joline, clung tightly to one of her younger twin sisters, who squirmed on her lap. The other three children huddled in the back seat, their eyes wide, as gusts swept across the deserted parking lot. Each blast shook the buggy, but the horse kept his head bent and plodded forward.
The sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon yet, and in the morning grayness, an immense dark shadow loomed near the top of the market building, twisting and writhing in the air. Stephen sucked in a breath.
The huge wooden signboard had come loose on one end. It dangled precariously while winds whipped it back and forth, clapping it against the building with loud bangs. If the other chain snapped, the sign would plummet to the ground.
The wood cracked hard against the cement block building, and Joline jumped. “Daed, will it crash into us?”
Even the horse grew skittish. Stephen steered in a wide circle away from the noise and danger. He parked the buggy on the opposite side of the building. They’d be safe over here. While he tied up the horse, Joline helped her siblings out.
Stephen handed her his key to the employee entrance. “Take everyone inside and start putting out the meats.” He could trust her to look after her brothers and sisters. Although he wished he didn’t have to do it, he often depended on her to take her mamm’s place.
“What are you going to do?” Joline’s voice quavered.
“I have to fix that sign.”
Joline’s face creased with concern. “Neh, Daed, you can’t do that.”
She’d spoken Stephen’s doubts aloud, but something had to be done before the sign fell and hurt someone. Or splintered into pieces.
His son Matt piped up. “Can’t Martin do it?”
The maintenance man usually pulled in before anyone else to unlock the employee doors. Although Stephen and his children had only been working at the market for a week, Matt had already taken a shine to Martin and liked to follow the maintenance man as he made his rounds. This morning, though, Stephen had arrived extra early. Martin wouldn’t get there for at least thirty minutes. They couldn’t wait that long.
“You all go in and set up while I figure out what to do.” If his children were watching, Stephen couldn’t act brave enough to fool them. Better not to have them around.
Joline herded the others ahead of her, but after she unlocked the door, she peeked over her shoulder with concerned eyes.
Stephen pasted on a sickly smile. “Let’s trust God for this.” He needed to reassure himself as much as her.
She studied him closely and then nodded. “I’ll pray for you.”
“Danke.” He needed all the Divine help he could get.
After his children had gone inside, he entered the maintenance shed attached to the side of the building. One part of him prayed Martin had left the door unlocked. The other part hoped he hadn’t. Then Stephen would have an excuse for avoiding the sign.
His fingers closed over the doorknob. Please, Lord . . .
He trailed off, unsure of which outcome to request. The knob rotated, and the latch clicked open. Gulping back his disappointment and his growing fear, Stephen pushed open the door. He waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dimness.
Tiny emergency lights gave off enough light so he could make out several ladders leaning against the far wall. They ranged from a short stepladder to a tall expandable extension ladder.
Could he wait a half hour? Maybe he could stand in the parking lot and direct people away from that side of the building until Martin fixed the sign. But what if it fell?
The feisty ninety-two-year-old woman who owned this market had mentioned her dad had hand-carved that sign. If it got destroyed, she’d be devastated.
Stephen couldn’t let his fears stop him from doing what was right.
As he reached for the extension ladder, words from Corinthians flashed through his mind: My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness.
“You have plenty of weakness to work with here, Lord,” he whispered.
He maneuvered the ladder out of the shed and fought the wind to carry it around the building. He leaned it against the wall close to where the sign banged back and forth. So far, it hadn’t pulled loose.
As he tugged on the rope to expand the ladder and the rungs went higher and higher, his stomach sank lower and lower. How could he ever climb up there?
Steadying the ladder as well as his nerves, Stephen drew in a deep breath. Lord, I need your strength.
He mounted the first few rungs. It was still an easy jump to the ground. Then, palms slick with sweat, he pulled himself up higher.
Don’t look down, he chanted on each rung. But dark clouds from the past enveloped him, and old memories overwhelmed him. In his mind, he plummeted, free-falling through the air with nothing to support him, nothing to catch him. Stephen clenched the ladder rails. His stomach knotted, and his chest constricted. Forcing himself to breathe, he pushed away the nightmare and lifted his foot to the next rung. And the next.
Gusts of wind lifted the wooden sign, smacking it into the building and jarring the ladder. Stephen froze. His heart banged in time to the wood crashing overhead.
Horses’ hooves clip-clopped below. Car engines growled into the parking lot. If the sign ripped loose, someone down there could be badly hurt. He’d never let that happen if he could prevent it. Never.
Gripping the rails so tightly they bit into his hands, he closed his eyes and felt for the next few rungs. But now he had to loosen his clenched fingers to grab the sign.
He hadn’t thought about having to hold on with only one hand. His trembling legs jiggled the ladder.
Please help me, Lord.
The sign blew in his direction. He reached out and snatched it one-handed. Only Divine intervention could have allowed him to capture it on the first try.
Thank you, Jesus.
Stephen twisted his head toward the hook on his right. He’d placed the ladder near the sign so he could catch it. But he hadn’t thought about hanging it afterward. Now he’d have to lean far over to attach the chain. What if the ladder tipped?
His imagination painted a vivid picture of him clinging to the sign as the ladder toppled. Then the sign giving way . . .
Nettie Hartzler stared up at the man clutching the market sign. The ladder shook as he reached out. What was he thinking?
As he fumbled to hang the chain over the hook, one foot of the ladder rose slightly. He was going to fall.
She dragged her horse to a stop, slid open the buggy door, and without even bothering to tie up her horse, raced over. Praying for strength, she gripped the ladder and threw her body toward the opposite side to counterbalance him.
“Stand up straight,” she screamed.
She couldn’t hold his weight and the ladder’s. Overhead, chain clinked against metal. Had he hooked up the sign? She couldn’t waste energy by looking up. She pitted every ounce of her strength against the tilt of the ladder.
She couldn’t believe this man. Who climbed a ladder in a windstorm? And didn’t even tie it off?
The ladder tilted a quarter inch toward her, then a bit more until both legs rested on the asphalt. The pressure against her shoulders and arms eased slightly. He must have followed her instructions.
She glanced up to see the sign hanging properly. Good. Now she’d keep holding the ladder until he descended.
But he stood there, frozen. What was he doing?
“Are you coming down?” she asked.
“I-in a minute.”
His breathless answer and his white-knuckled grip on the ladder revealed how frightened he’d been about falling. Maybe he needed a moment to catch his breath.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep holding the ladder until you get down.”
“Danke.” His response came out choked.
Nettie couldn’t blame him. She knew firsthand how perilous falls from heights could be. Her stomach curdled. She needed to get him down from there. Before all her horrible memories intruded.
“You can come down now,” she called to him, but he didn’t move. “Please?” she added when he remained motionless.
“I can’t,” he croaked.
“Of course you can. Just lower one foot after the other. You’ll be down before you know it.”
“I-I’ve never climbed down a ladder.”
What? He had to be kidding. As an Amish man, surely he’d helped with barn raisings. Maybe almost falling had addled his brain.
She didn’t have time to wait. She’d come in early to make salads because they’d run out yesterday before closing. Friday market hours ran late, so she hadn’t been able to do it last night. But if this stranger didn’t come down soon, the market would open, and they’d have no salads ready to sell today.
He still hadn’t budged. He must be telling the truth. She’d have to help him.
“Lift one foot and lower it. Feel around until you touch the rung below.”
She waited while he did what she’d suggested. He didn’t loosen his grip as he descended.
“You’ll have to slide your hands down as you go.” She had a sudden vision of him letting go with both hands. “One hand at a time,” she corrected.
Slowly, painstakingly, he shuffled from one rung to the next. At this snail’s pace, she’d be too late to make salads. If Fern made them instead of her . . .
Nettie closed her mind to that possibility. She needed to make sure Gideon thought she was more valuable than Fern. Nettie couldn’t afford to let Gideon’s budding attraction to Fern bloom. She had to protect her children.
The minute the stranger set both feet on the ground, she blasted him. “What were you thinking? You didn’t even tie off the ladder or make sure the feet were level.” She gestured to several large eyebolts anchored in the concrete blocks at various places around the building.
“I—I . . .”
She didn’t wait to hear any excuses. “Nobody climbs a ladder in this weather.”
“But the sign.” The man’s chest heaved. “I didn’t want . . . anyone to get hurt.”
He sounded as out of breath as she was.
“Did you even care that you might have endangered lives if that ladder fell on someone? Why don’t you think about others before doing something like that?”
Behind her, a sarcastic voice said, “I could say the same about a careless person who lets a horse run loose in the market parking lot.”
She whirled around. “My horse.” She’d forgotten all about her buggy.
Nick Green laughed and waggled his eyebrows. “You’re lucky your brother-in-law arrived to save the day.”
“I-I’m sorry.” She hadn’t meant to cause trouble.
Her pulse slowed as she spied Gideon leading her horse around the building to the shelter. His sister Caroline followed in his buggy. Several cars waited behind them to turn into the parking lot.
Heat splashed across her cheeks.
“Seems to me,” Nick drawled, “you’d take the log out of your own eye first.”
Ooo. Nettie’s fingers curled into fists. Nick loved to taunt her. She longed to say something cutting in return, but she had to work at the same stand.
Her brother-in-law Gideon had opened the end of his stand to two people who’d gotten pushed out of their market stalls by the previous owner. Because of that, Nettie had two irritants to deal with every day—Nick and the bakery owner, Fern. Both of them made her life miserable.
Nettie settled for a haughty comeback. “I didn’t know you knew any Bible verses, Nick.”
“Fern’s a good teacher.” His smirk made it clear he’d been trying to get under her skin. And he’d succeeded.
“Humph.” Nettie tried to keep her expression neutral. She didn’t want Nick to know how much the taunt hurt. “I hope you learn something.”
She turned to leave before Nick could jab her again. But she’d forgotten about the man on the ladder. Despite her own mistake in leaving her horse unattended, someone needed to make sure this stranger didn’t do anything that dangerous again.
She faced him. “And I hope you learned your lesson. You could have been”—her next word came out strangled—“killed.”
Tears stung her eyes. She spun around and ran into the building before they fell.
Stephen stared after her. She’d saved his life, and he’d been too shaky and tongue-tied to thank her.
He relived the moment the ladder leg lifted from the ground. The whole ladder listed to the right, and he’d have tipped over if she hadn’t arrived. She’d hung on to the ladder with all her might until both ladder legs ended up flat on the ground. Then she’d talked him down.
What a fool he’d made of himself! Confessing he’d never climbed a ladder before. Needing to be coaxed down step by step like a baby learning to walk. How humiliating!
“I think she likes you.” Nick’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
“Jah, right.” Stephen shook his head. He’d watched Nick provoke that woman until her eyes filled with tears and she ran away. Or maybe she’d been running from his embarrassing ladder experience.
“I mean it,” Nick insisted. “I’ve never seen her talk that much to anyone before.”
“She wasn’t talking. She was scolding.”
“Scolding is Nettie’s love language.”
Maybe it was time to do what Nettie had done and flee. Nick seemed to enjoy taking personal digs. Somehow, he’d already found one of Stephen’s sore spots.
“Oh, wait.” Nick did a double take. “You have a beard so you must be married.”
“You think?” Stephen parroted the Englisch teens who’d worked in his market stand in New York State.
Nick heaved a huge sigh. “Too bad. I thought you might be the answer to Fern’s prayers. All of us agree that Gideon should marry Fern. Even Mrs. Vandenberg.”
Huh? Nick’s conversation was getting more and more confusing. Stephen didn’t know any of these people.
Seeing his blank expression, Nick tried to clarify. “Gideon is Nettie’s brother-in-law, and Mrs. Vandenberg owns the market.”
“I see.” Stephen did recall his brother talking about the lady in her nineties who meddled in people’s lives and the one whose sign he’d just fixed, but he couldn’t follow Nick’s story.
“Anyway, the only one standing in the way of Fern’s happiness is Nettie.”
For some reason, Stephen couldn’t picture the woman who’d taken the time to talk him down from the ladder being mean enough to interfere in someone else’s relationship. And after she’d saved his life, he didn’t want to listen to Nick’s bad-mouthing.
But Nick kept talking. “I keep hoping someone will come along to distract Nettie and—”
All Stephen wanted to do was return to the stand and get away from all this gossip. And he should find Nettie’s stand so he could thank her. If he asked Nick where she worked, though, Nick would find it suspicious.
As politely as he could, Stephen said, “Nice meeting you, Nick. I don’t want to keep you from your stand, and I’d better get this ladder down.”
Before Stephen could lower the ladder, Martin headed over. “Sorry I’m a bit late. I’ll take care of that. I heard you fixed the sign. Thanks so much.”
Somehow getting praised for his cowardly behavior made Stephen more humiliated than he’d been when Nettie talked him down.
He swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. “It was nothing. Thanks for getting the ladder.”
“It’s my job.” Martin grasped the rope and smacked a palm on one of the rungs. The top half of the ladder slid down smoothly.
Stephen turned to find Nick waiting for him. He suppressed a sigh.
Nick fell into step beside Stephen. “So, if you know someone we can match Nettie up with, let me know. Although she’d never say it, I’m sure Fern would like Nettie out of the way.”
What could Stephen say to that? Out of the way sounded like Fern might hurt Nettie. Why did Nick see Nettie as such a problem? Stephen tried to reconcile Nick’s picture of Nettie with the woman who’d rushed to help him.
“But Fern thinks Nettie has first dibs.”
Was this some kind of a contest? None of it made sense to Stephen. “I thought you said Nettie is his sister-in-law.”
“She is. But Gideon’s been taking care of her ever since his brother died. We all think Nettie’s hoping to be Gideon’s next wife.”
Nettie was a widow? Stephen understood that pain. He’d lived with it for seven years now.
Nettie rushed into the chicken barbecue stand, out of breath and out of sorts. She’d lost the opportunity to show Gideon how invaluable she could be. Not only had Fern set out her own baked goods, she’d also made the salads and prepped some lunch trays for later. Now she and Gideon had their heads together as she helped him fill the display cases with side dishes.
Normally, the scent of the chicken roasting on the spits filled Nettie with contentment. Today, it roiled her stomach. What would she do if Gideon married Fern? Nettie—and even more worrisome, her children—would no longer be a part of his life.
“There you are.” Caroline smiled at her. “We were scared to see your horse loose and nobody driving the buggy.”
Nettie shriveled inside. She’d already been overshadowed by Fern. Did Caroline have to add to that?
“We were so afraid something happened to you. But then we saw you helping someone fix the sign. That was so kind of you.”
“I didn’t have much choice. It was either steady the ladder or watch him fall.”
Caroline shook her head. “Only you would see it that way.”
Nettie bristled. What did Caroline mean by that? Did Nettie even want to know? Smoothing down her apron, she asked Gideon in a mild voice, “What do you need me to do?”
He peeled his eyes from Fern. “The salads are made, but you could help Fern finish prepping lunch trays.”
Her teeth gritted, Nettie joined Fern at the back counter. Fern had been the one who’d come up with the idea of putting plastic silverware, napkin packs, and condiments on lunch trays to save time during the noontime rush.
Struggling to keep her voice civil, Nettie answered, “Sure. And by the way, thank you for taking care of my horse and buggy this morning.” Under Fern’s watchful glance, Nettie tempered the smile she longed to give to Gideon.
“Of course.” Gideon’s sunny smile lifted Nettie’s spirits for the first time that morning. “It was good of you to help that man with the sign. He looked like he was having a rough time.”
He had been, but for some reason, Nettie didn’t want Gideon to criticize the man—a bit ironic after she’d lit into him herself.
She worked in silence beside Fern until they’d created several towering stacks of trays. With Saturday being their busiest day, Nettie hoped they’d prepared enough. Nick and Fern stayed too busy on the weekend to assist much with barbecued chicken sales. Which meant Nettie had more time alone with Gideon. Except that they were usually so rushed, she had no time to appreciate it.
Once the morning customers flooded in, many of them flocked to Fern’s baked goods. The barbecued chicken part of the stand didn’t get busy until ten, so Nettie had some time to talk to Gideon.
“Mamm’s going to bring the children over later if that’s all right,” she told him.
“Of course. They’re always welcome.”
Nettie smiled. Gideon loved her four children as if they were his own. When her husband died, Gideon had agreed to take care of them, and he’d kept his promise for the past two years.
What would her children do if Gideon got married? They couldn’t stay at the house. How would she care for them? She’d come to depend on him for so much.
Gideon nudged her. “Looks like Fern could use some help. Since we’re not busy yet, maybe you could go down there.”
Nettie bit back a sigh. Not only would she have to work with her rival, but she’d also have to leave Gideon’s side. But she trudged over and did her duty.
Once she began serving customers, Nettie relaxed, and her smile became genuine. Except each time she accidentally bumped into Fern. Luckily, Nick had long lines at his candy counter, so he didn’t have time to bother them. At least not for the first ten minutes.
Between customers, Nick announced, “Nettie, I tried to match you up with the man you helped this morning so Fern could have a clear shot at Gideon.” Oblivious to the two shocked gasps that followed his statement, Nick continued, “Too bad, though. Stephen’s married.”
“The beard didn’t give it away?” Nettie couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her tone.
Fern shot an apologetic sideways glance Nettie’s way, and then said, “That was so kind of him to fix the sign.”
Fern’s graciousness made Nettie’s comment seem surly. Somehow, without even trying, Fern always managed to put Nettie in an unfavorable light. And now Nick had humiliated her in front of all the customers, who were staring at her curiously. He’d made her sound needy and desperate for a husband.
To get away from Nick, Stephen offered to help Martin carry the ladder to the maintenance shed. Martin’s eyebrows rose. Obviously, he could handle it himself. After all, Stephen had managed it alone. But Martin glanced from Stephen’s burning face to the man standing next to him.
Understanding dawned in Martin’s eyes. “Sure. I’d be happy for some assistance.”
Although Stephen would prefer to never go near a ladder again, he picked up the opposite end, grateful to be moving away from Nick.
After they’d rounded the building, Martin laughed. “I can carry it from here. I expect Nick’s gone now. You wanted to get away from him, right?”
Stephen would rather not admit that. He’d only worked here a few days, and he didn’t want to criticize anyone. “I, well . . .”
Martin waved a hand in the air. “Never mind. Didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Nick’s known for needling people.” With a practiced heft, Martin angled the ladder to slide it into the maintenance shed.
Stephen waited until Martin closed the door. “I hope it was all right to take that out. The shed was unlocked.”
“Yeah, that was fine. I need to remember to check the door before I go home at night. Don’t tell Russell. He’d fire me on the spot.”
“Of course not.” It hadn’t occurred to Stephen to mention it to anyone.
Martin clapped Stephen on the shoulder. “Thanks for staying mum and for putting that sign back up. I owe you.”
“Happy to help.” Stephen could say that now that he stood on firm ground. “I’d better go.”
“Yeah.” Martin gave him a teasing smile. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Nick’s gone.”
With a nod, Stephen turned to leave. He had one more thing to do before he went to the meat stand. He’d never forget being up on that tipping ladder. Or the woman who saved him.
She deserved a major danke. He had to find her before the market opened.
But when he reached the doors, people were already streaming into the market. He hadn’t realized it was so late. How would he find her with these crowds? And would she even have time to talk?
Maybe he should wait. But if he did, he might get too busy to take a break. Besides, he should have thanked her right away. He needed to make up for his earlier lapse in manners.
Weaving around people, he scanned each stand he passed. When he reached the middle of the market, he approached a small eating area with café tables and chairs. The scent of roasting chicken wafted from a nearby stand.
Stephen did a double take. Nick stood at one end of Hartzler’s Chicken Barbecue, wearing a striped apron. He bent down to talk to a small girl and waited while she screwed up her face and deliberated about which candy to buy. None of the impatience or sarcasm from earlier showed on his face, but Stephen wanted to get away before Nick looked over and saw him.
He started to hurry away, but stopped. The chicken barbecue stand, one of the largest in the market, had glass display cases filled with salads and side dishes. Overhead, a large menu advertised chicken, fries, salads, and full meals. The far end held Nick’s candy business and a small bakery, with a press of people lined up.
Two women waited on the bakery customers, and one of them was the woman he was looking for. He almost didn’t recognize her at first, because unlike the frown she’d directed his way as she held the ladder, she greeted each person with a smile.
He sucked in a breath. Earlier, he’d been too shaky to appreciate her prettiness. With her face relaxed into sweetness, she had caring eyes. But Stephen could detect deep sadness in their depths. A sadness he shared.
He shook himself. He couldn’t stand here staring. Nettie wouldn’t have much time to speak to him, but he got into line. He’d buy cinnamon rolls for his children and thank her. He hoped Nick would stay too busy to notice him.
As Stephen approached the counter, Nick spotted him. His eyebrows rose, and he smirked. When he turned his attention to a small group of boys choosing whistle lollipops, Stephen released a pent-up breath. He’d been expecting a sarcastic comment.
Maybe Nick would be too busy to come up with any barbs. But Stephen had underestimated the man’s talent for annoying people.
“Whoa, that was fast.” Nick’s derisive tone set Stephen’s teeth on edge. “Watch out for that guy, Nettie.” Nick shook his head. “A married man preying on a helpless widow.”
“I’m not . . .” Stephen strangled off the words as Nettie looked up at him. He directed his next comments to her. “I came to thank you for helping me this morning.”
Her lips pinched together as if she wanted to give him another lecture. A lecture he deserved. He should have tied off the ladder. He’d seen his brothers and his friends do that during barn raisings. If he hadn’t been so gripped by fear, he would have made more logical decisions.
“I, well,”—he swallowed hard—“I might not be alive if it hadn’t been for you.”
Nettie’s eyes shimmered with tears. She lowered her head and busied her hands with folding a bakery box.
Had her husband’s death been recent? Stephen hadn’t meant to make her cry. “I’m sorry.”
She kept her head bowed. “For what?”
For making you cry. But Stephen couldn’t say that. “For, um, for being so foolish.”
Her head popped up. The pain in the depths of her eyes made Stephen’s chest contract. He’d felt that same grief mingled with . . .
The sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon yet, and in the morning grayness, an immense dark shadow loomed near the top of the market building, twisting and writhing in the air. Stephen sucked in a breath.
The huge wooden signboard had come loose on one end. It dangled precariously while winds whipped it back and forth, clapping it against the building with loud bangs. If the other chain snapped, the sign would plummet to the ground.
The wood cracked hard against the cement block building, and Joline jumped. “Daed, will it crash into us?”
Even the horse grew skittish. Stephen steered in a wide circle away from the noise and danger. He parked the buggy on the opposite side of the building. They’d be safe over here. While he tied up the horse, Joline helped her siblings out.
Stephen handed her his key to the employee entrance. “Take everyone inside and start putting out the meats.” He could trust her to look after her brothers and sisters. Although he wished he didn’t have to do it, he often depended on her to take her mamm’s place.
“What are you going to do?” Joline’s voice quavered.
“I have to fix that sign.”
Joline’s face creased with concern. “Neh, Daed, you can’t do that.”
She’d spoken Stephen’s doubts aloud, but something had to be done before the sign fell and hurt someone. Or splintered into pieces.
His son Matt piped up. “Can’t Martin do it?”
The maintenance man usually pulled in before anyone else to unlock the employee doors. Although Stephen and his children had only been working at the market for a week, Matt had already taken a shine to Martin and liked to follow the maintenance man as he made his rounds. This morning, though, Stephen had arrived extra early. Martin wouldn’t get there for at least thirty minutes. They couldn’t wait that long.
“You all go in and set up while I figure out what to do.” If his children were watching, Stephen couldn’t act brave enough to fool them. Better not to have them around.
Joline herded the others ahead of her, but after she unlocked the door, she peeked over her shoulder with concerned eyes.
Stephen pasted on a sickly smile. “Let’s trust God for this.” He needed to reassure himself as much as her.
She studied him closely and then nodded. “I’ll pray for you.”
“Danke.” He needed all the Divine help he could get.
After his children had gone inside, he entered the maintenance shed attached to the side of the building. One part of him prayed Martin had left the door unlocked. The other part hoped he hadn’t. Then Stephen would have an excuse for avoiding the sign.
His fingers closed over the doorknob. Please, Lord . . .
He trailed off, unsure of which outcome to request. The knob rotated, and the latch clicked open. Gulping back his disappointment and his growing fear, Stephen pushed open the door. He waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dimness.
Tiny emergency lights gave off enough light so he could make out several ladders leaning against the far wall. They ranged from a short stepladder to a tall expandable extension ladder.
Could he wait a half hour? Maybe he could stand in the parking lot and direct people away from that side of the building until Martin fixed the sign. But what if it fell?
The feisty ninety-two-year-old woman who owned this market had mentioned her dad had hand-carved that sign. If it got destroyed, she’d be devastated.
Stephen couldn’t let his fears stop him from doing what was right.
As he reached for the extension ladder, words from Corinthians flashed through his mind: My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness.
“You have plenty of weakness to work with here, Lord,” he whispered.
He maneuvered the ladder out of the shed and fought the wind to carry it around the building. He leaned it against the wall close to where the sign banged back and forth. So far, it hadn’t pulled loose.
As he tugged on the rope to expand the ladder and the rungs went higher and higher, his stomach sank lower and lower. How could he ever climb up there?
Steadying the ladder as well as his nerves, Stephen drew in a deep breath. Lord, I need your strength.
He mounted the first few rungs. It was still an easy jump to the ground. Then, palms slick with sweat, he pulled himself up higher.
Don’t look down, he chanted on each rung. But dark clouds from the past enveloped him, and old memories overwhelmed him. In his mind, he plummeted, free-falling through the air with nothing to support him, nothing to catch him. Stephen clenched the ladder rails. His stomach knotted, and his chest constricted. Forcing himself to breathe, he pushed away the nightmare and lifted his foot to the next rung. And the next.
Gusts of wind lifted the wooden sign, smacking it into the building and jarring the ladder. Stephen froze. His heart banged in time to the wood crashing overhead.
Horses’ hooves clip-clopped below. Car engines growled into the parking lot. If the sign ripped loose, someone down there could be badly hurt. He’d never let that happen if he could prevent it. Never.
Gripping the rails so tightly they bit into his hands, he closed his eyes and felt for the next few rungs. But now he had to loosen his clenched fingers to grab the sign.
He hadn’t thought about having to hold on with only one hand. His trembling legs jiggled the ladder.
Please help me, Lord.
The sign blew in his direction. He reached out and snatched it one-handed. Only Divine intervention could have allowed him to capture it on the first try.
Thank you, Jesus.
Stephen twisted his head toward the hook on his right. He’d placed the ladder near the sign so he could catch it. But he hadn’t thought about hanging it afterward. Now he’d have to lean far over to attach the chain. What if the ladder tipped?
His imagination painted a vivid picture of him clinging to the sign as the ladder toppled. Then the sign giving way . . .
Nettie Hartzler stared up at the man clutching the market sign. The ladder shook as he reached out. What was he thinking?
As he fumbled to hang the chain over the hook, one foot of the ladder rose slightly. He was going to fall.
She dragged her horse to a stop, slid open the buggy door, and without even bothering to tie up her horse, raced over. Praying for strength, she gripped the ladder and threw her body toward the opposite side to counterbalance him.
“Stand up straight,” she screamed.
She couldn’t hold his weight and the ladder’s. Overhead, chain clinked against metal. Had he hooked up the sign? She couldn’t waste energy by looking up. She pitted every ounce of her strength against the tilt of the ladder.
She couldn’t believe this man. Who climbed a ladder in a windstorm? And didn’t even tie it off?
The ladder tilted a quarter inch toward her, then a bit more until both legs rested on the asphalt. The pressure against her shoulders and arms eased slightly. He must have followed her instructions.
She glanced up to see the sign hanging properly. Good. Now she’d keep holding the ladder until he descended.
But he stood there, frozen. What was he doing?
“Are you coming down?” she asked.
“I-in a minute.”
His breathless answer and his white-knuckled grip on the ladder revealed how frightened he’d been about falling. Maybe he needed a moment to catch his breath.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep holding the ladder until you get down.”
“Danke.” His response came out choked.
Nettie couldn’t blame him. She knew firsthand how perilous falls from heights could be. Her stomach curdled. She needed to get him down from there. Before all her horrible memories intruded.
“You can come down now,” she called to him, but he didn’t move. “Please?” she added when he remained motionless.
“I can’t,” he croaked.
“Of course you can. Just lower one foot after the other. You’ll be down before you know it.”
“I-I’ve never climbed down a ladder.”
What? He had to be kidding. As an Amish man, surely he’d helped with barn raisings. Maybe almost falling had addled his brain.
She didn’t have time to wait. She’d come in early to make salads because they’d run out yesterday before closing. Friday market hours ran late, so she hadn’t been able to do it last night. But if this stranger didn’t come down soon, the market would open, and they’d have no salads ready to sell today.
He still hadn’t budged. He must be telling the truth. She’d have to help him.
“Lift one foot and lower it. Feel around until you touch the rung below.”
She waited while he did what she’d suggested. He didn’t loosen his grip as he descended.
“You’ll have to slide your hands down as you go.” She had a sudden vision of him letting go with both hands. “One hand at a time,” she corrected.
Slowly, painstakingly, he shuffled from one rung to the next. At this snail’s pace, she’d be too late to make salads. If Fern made them instead of her . . .
Nettie closed her mind to that possibility. She needed to make sure Gideon thought she was more valuable than Fern. Nettie couldn’t afford to let Gideon’s budding attraction to Fern bloom. She had to protect her children.
The minute the stranger set both feet on the ground, she blasted him. “What were you thinking? You didn’t even tie off the ladder or make sure the feet were level.” She gestured to several large eyebolts anchored in the concrete blocks at various places around the building.
“I—I . . .”
She didn’t wait to hear any excuses. “Nobody climbs a ladder in this weather.”
“But the sign.” The man’s chest heaved. “I didn’t want . . . anyone to get hurt.”
He sounded as out of breath as she was.
“Did you even care that you might have endangered lives if that ladder fell on someone? Why don’t you think about others before doing something like that?”
Behind her, a sarcastic voice said, “I could say the same about a careless person who lets a horse run loose in the market parking lot.”
She whirled around. “My horse.” She’d forgotten all about her buggy.
Nick Green laughed and waggled his eyebrows. “You’re lucky your brother-in-law arrived to save the day.”
“I-I’m sorry.” She hadn’t meant to cause trouble.
Her pulse slowed as she spied Gideon leading her horse around the building to the shelter. His sister Caroline followed in his buggy. Several cars waited behind them to turn into the parking lot.
Heat splashed across her cheeks.
“Seems to me,” Nick drawled, “you’d take the log out of your own eye first.”
Ooo. Nettie’s fingers curled into fists. Nick loved to taunt her. She longed to say something cutting in return, but she had to work at the same stand.
Her brother-in-law Gideon had opened the end of his stand to two people who’d gotten pushed out of their market stalls by the previous owner. Because of that, Nettie had two irritants to deal with every day—Nick and the bakery owner, Fern. Both of them made her life miserable.
Nettie settled for a haughty comeback. “I didn’t know you knew any Bible verses, Nick.”
“Fern’s a good teacher.” His smirk made it clear he’d been trying to get under her skin. And he’d succeeded.
“Humph.” Nettie tried to keep her expression neutral. She didn’t want Nick to know how much the taunt hurt. “I hope you learn something.”
She turned to leave before Nick could jab her again. But she’d forgotten about the man on the ladder. Despite her own mistake in leaving her horse unattended, someone needed to make sure this stranger didn’t do anything that dangerous again.
She faced him. “And I hope you learned your lesson. You could have been”—her next word came out strangled—“killed.”
Tears stung her eyes. She spun around and ran into the building before they fell.
Stephen stared after her. She’d saved his life, and he’d been too shaky and tongue-tied to thank her.
He relived the moment the ladder leg lifted from the ground. The whole ladder listed to the right, and he’d have tipped over if she hadn’t arrived. She’d hung on to the ladder with all her might until both ladder legs ended up flat on the ground. Then she’d talked him down.
What a fool he’d made of himself! Confessing he’d never climbed a ladder before. Needing to be coaxed down step by step like a baby learning to walk. How humiliating!
“I think she likes you.” Nick’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
“Jah, right.” Stephen shook his head. He’d watched Nick provoke that woman until her eyes filled with tears and she ran away. Or maybe she’d been running from his embarrassing ladder experience.
“I mean it,” Nick insisted. “I’ve never seen her talk that much to anyone before.”
“She wasn’t talking. She was scolding.”
“Scolding is Nettie’s love language.”
Maybe it was time to do what Nettie had done and flee. Nick seemed to enjoy taking personal digs. Somehow, he’d already found one of Stephen’s sore spots.
“Oh, wait.” Nick did a double take. “You have a beard so you must be married.”
“You think?” Stephen parroted the Englisch teens who’d worked in his market stand in New York State.
Nick heaved a huge sigh. “Too bad. I thought you might be the answer to Fern’s prayers. All of us agree that Gideon should marry Fern. Even Mrs. Vandenberg.”
Huh? Nick’s conversation was getting more and more confusing. Stephen didn’t know any of these people.
Seeing his blank expression, Nick tried to clarify. “Gideon is Nettie’s brother-in-law, and Mrs. Vandenberg owns the market.”
“I see.” Stephen did recall his brother talking about the lady in her nineties who meddled in people’s lives and the one whose sign he’d just fixed, but he couldn’t follow Nick’s story.
“Anyway, the only one standing in the way of Fern’s happiness is Nettie.”
For some reason, Stephen couldn’t picture the woman who’d taken the time to talk him down from the ladder being mean enough to interfere in someone else’s relationship. And after she’d saved his life, he didn’t want to listen to Nick’s bad-mouthing.
But Nick kept talking. “I keep hoping someone will come along to distract Nettie and—”
All Stephen wanted to do was return to the stand and get away from all this gossip. And he should find Nettie’s stand so he could thank her. If he asked Nick where she worked, though, Nick would find it suspicious.
As politely as he could, Stephen said, “Nice meeting you, Nick. I don’t want to keep you from your stand, and I’d better get this ladder down.”
Before Stephen could lower the ladder, Martin headed over. “Sorry I’m a bit late. I’ll take care of that. I heard you fixed the sign. Thanks so much.”
Somehow getting praised for his cowardly behavior made Stephen more humiliated than he’d been when Nettie talked him down.
He swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. “It was nothing. Thanks for getting the ladder.”
“It’s my job.” Martin grasped the rope and smacked a palm on one of the rungs. The top half of the ladder slid down smoothly.
Stephen turned to find Nick waiting for him. He suppressed a sigh.
Nick fell into step beside Stephen. “So, if you know someone we can match Nettie up with, let me know. Although she’d never say it, I’m sure Fern would like Nettie out of the way.”
What could Stephen say to that? Out of the way sounded like Fern might hurt Nettie. Why did Nick see Nettie as such a problem? Stephen tried to reconcile Nick’s picture of Nettie with the woman who’d rushed to help him.
“But Fern thinks Nettie has first dibs.”
Was this some kind of a contest? None of it made sense to Stephen. “I thought you said Nettie is his sister-in-law.”
“She is. But Gideon’s been taking care of her ever since his brother died. We all think Nettie’s hoping to be Gideon’s next wife.”
Nettie was a widow? Stephen understood that pain. He’d lived with it for seven years now.
Nettie rushed into the chicken barbecue stand, out of breath and out of sorts. She’d lost the opportunity to show Gideon how invaluable she could be. Not only had Fern set out her own baked goods, she’d also made the salads and prepped some lunch trays for later. Now she and Gideon had their heads together as she helped him fill the display cases with side dishes.
Normally, the scent of the chicken roasting on the spits filled Nettie with contentment. Today, it roiled her stomach. What would she do if Gideon married Fern? Nettie—and even more worrisome, her children—would no longer be a part of his life.
“There you are.” Caroline smiled at her. “We were scared to see your horse loose and nobody driving the buggy.”
Nettie shriveled inside. She’d already been overshadowed by Fern. Did Caroline have to add to that?
“We were so afraid something happened to you. But then we saw you helping someone fix the sign. That was so kind of you.”
“I didn’t have much choice. It was either steady the ladder or watch him fall.”
Caroline shook her head. “Only you would see it that way.”
Nettie bristled. What did Caroline mean by that? Did Nettie even want to know? Smoothing down her apron, she asked Gideon in a mild voice, “What do you need me to do?”
He peeled his eyes from Fern. “The salads are made, but you could help Fern finish prepping lunch trays.”
Her teeth gritted, Nettie joined Fern at the back counter. Fern had been the one who’d come up with the idea of putting plastic silverware, napkin packs, and condiments on lunch trays to save time during the noontime rush.
Struggling to keep her voice civil, Nettie answered, “Sure. And by the way, thank you for taking care of my horse and buggy this morning.” Under Fern’s watchful glance, Nettie tempered the smile she longed to give to Gideon.
“Of course.” Gideon’s sunny smile lifted Nettie’s spirits for the first time that morning. “It was good of you to help that man with the sign. He looked like he was having a rough time.”
He had been, but for some reason, Nettie didn’t want Gideon to criticize the man—a bit ironic after she’d lit into him herself.
She worked in silence beside Fern until they’d created several towering stacks of trays. With Saturday being their busiest day, Nettie hoped they’d prepared enough. Nick and Fern stayed too busy on the weekend to assist much with barbecued chicken sales. Which meant Nettie had more time alone with Gideon. Except that they were usually so rushed, she had no time to appreciate it.
Once the morning customers flooded in, many of them flocked to Fern’s baked goods. The barbecued chicken part of the stand didn’t get busy until ten, so Nettie had some time to talk to Gideon.
“Mamm’s going to bring the children over later if that’s all right,” she told him.
“Of course. They’re always welcome.”
Nettie smiled. Gideon loved her four children as if they were his own. When her husband died, Gideon had agreed to take care of them, and he’d kept his promise for the past two years.
What would her children do if Gideon got married? They couldn’t stay at the house. How would she care for them? She’d come to depend on him for so much.
Gideon nudged her. “Looks like Fern could use some help. Since we’re not busy yet, maybe you could go down there.”
Nettie bit back a sigh. Not only would she have to work with her rival, but she’d also have to leave Gideon’s side. But she trudged over and did her duty.
Once she began serving customers, Nettie relaxed, and her smile became genuine. Except each time she accidentally bumped into Fern. Luckily, Nick had long lines at his candy counter, so he didn’t have time to bother them. At least not for the first ten minutes.
Between customers, Nick announced, “Nettie, I tried to match you up with the man you helped this morning so Fern could have a clear shot at Gideon.” Oblivious to the two shocked gasps that followed his statement, Nick continued, “Too bad, though. Stephen’s married.”
“The beard didn’t give it away?” Nettie couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her tone.
Fern shot an apologetic sideways glance Nettie’s way, and then said, “That was so kind of him to fix the sign.”
Fern’s graciousness made Nettie’s comment seem surly. Somehow, without even trying, Fern always managed to put Nettie in an unfavorable light. And now Nick had humiliated her in front of all the customers, who were staring at her curiously. He’d made her sound needy and desperate for a husband.
To get away from Nick, Stephen offered to help Martin carry the ladder to the maintenance shed. Martin’s eyebrows rose. Obviously, he could handle it himself. After all, Stephen had managed it alone. But Martin glanced from Stephen’s burning face to the man standing next to him.
Understanding dawned in Martin’s eyes. “Sure. I’d be happy for some assistance.”
Although Stephen would prefer to never go near a ladder again, he picked up the opposite end, grateful to be moving away from Nick.
After they’d rounded the building, Martin laughed. “I can carry it from here. I expect Nick’s gone now. You wanted to get away from him, right?”
Stephen would rather not admit that. He’d only worked here a few days, and he didn’t want to criticize anyone. “I, well . . .”
Martin waved a hand in the air. “Never mind. Didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Nick’s known for needling people.” With a practiced heft, Martin angled the ladder to slide it into the maintenance shed.
Stephen waited until Martin closed the door. “I hope it was all right to take that out. The shed was unlocked.”
“Yeah, that was fine. I need to remember to check the door before I go home at night. Don’t tell Russell. He’d fire me on the spot.”
“Of course not.” It hadn’t occurred to Stephen to mention it to anyone.
Martin clapped Stephen on the shoulder. “Thanks for staying mum and for putting that sign back up. I owe you.”
“Happy to help.” Stephen could say that now that he stood on firm ground. “I’d better go.”
“Yeah.” Martin gave him a teasing smile. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Nick’s gone.”
With a nod, Stephen turned to leave. He had one more thing to do before he went to the meat stand. He’d never forget being up on that tipping ladder. Or the woman who saved him.
She deserved a major danke. He had to find her before the market opened.
But when he reached the doors, people were already streaming into the market. He hadn’t realized it was so late. How would he find her with these crowds? And would she even have time to talk?
Maybe he should wait. But if he did, he might get too busy to take a break. Besides, he should have thanked her right away. He needed to make up for his earlier lapse in manners.
Weaving around people, he scanned each stand he passed. When he reached the middle of the market, he approached a small eating area with café tables and chairs. The scent of roasting chicken wafted from a nearby stand.
Stephen did a double take. Nick stood at one end of Hartzler’s Chicken Barbecue, wearing a striped apron. He bent down to talk to a small girl and waited while she screwed up her face and deliberated about which candy to buy. None of the impatience or sarcasm from earlier showed on his face, but Stephen wanted to get away before Nick looked over and saw him.
He started to hurry away, but stopped. The chicken barbecue stand, one of the largest in the market, had glass display cases filled with salads and side dishes. Overhead, a large menu advertised chicken, fries, salads, and full meals. The far end held Nick’s candy business and a small bakery, with a press of people lined up.
Two women waited on the bakery customers, and one of them was the woman he was looking for. He almost didn’t recognize her at first, because unlike the frown she’d directed his way as she held the ladder, she greeted each person with a smile.
He sucked in a breath. Earlier, he’d been too shaky to appreciate her prettiness. With her face relaxed into sweetness, she had caring eyes. But Stephen could detect deep sadness in their depths. A sadness he shared.
He shook himself. He couldn’t stand here staring. Nettie wouldn’t have much time to speak to him, but he got into line. He’d buy cinnamon rolls for his children and thank her. He hoped Nick would stay too busy to notice him.
As Stephen approached the counter, Nick spotted him. His eyebrows rose, and he smirked. When he turned his attention to a small group of boys choosing whistle lollipops, Stephen released a pent-up breath. He’d been expecting a sarcastic comment.
Maybe Nick would be too busy to come up with any barbs. But Stephen had underestimated the man’s talent for annoying people.
“Whoa, that was fast.” Nick’s derisive tone set Stephen’s teeth on edge. “Watch out for that guy, Nettie.” Nick shook his head. “A married man preying on a helpless widow.”
“I’m not . . .” Stephen strangled off the words as Nettie looked up at him. He directed his next comments to her. “I came to thank you for helping me this morning.”
Her lips pinched together as if she wanted to give him another lecture. A lecture he deserved. He should have tied off the ladder. He’d seen his brothers and his friends do that during barn raisings. If he hadn’t been so gripped by fear, he would have made more logical decisions.
“I, well,”—he swallowed hard—“I might not be alive if it hadn’t been for you.”
Nettie’s eyes shimmered with tears. She lowered her head and busied her hands with folding a bakery box.
Had her husband’s death been recent? Stephen hadn’t meant to make her cry. “I’m sorry.”
She kept her head bowed. “For what?”
For making you cry. But Stephen couldn’t say that. “For, um, for being so foolish.”
Her head popped up. The pain in the depths of her eyes made Stephen’s chest contract. He’d felt that same grief mingled with . . .
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An Amish Marriage of Convenience
Rachel J. Good
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