Belle

Book 1: Amish Fairytale

by Sarah Price

Genres: Christian Romance; General Fiction; Christian Fiction

Synopsis

To most townsfolk, he's known simply as The Beast. Annabelle Beiler has little interest in gossip, but she's heard about Adam Herschberger's scars and his gruff, solitary ways. Though he sounds like a character from one of Belle's treasured books, the man is real and, it turns out, just as unreasonable as the rumors claim. When a buggy accident wipes out the last of her daed's money, forcing him to sell their farm, Adam buys it. Then he offers Belle a deal—marry him, and her family can keep their home.

Everyone is shocked by Belle's decision, but she's determined to be a good fraa, cleaning Adam's rundown house and tending the overgrown garden. Breaking through her new husband's icy reserve will be another matter. Belle's courage and strength are abundant, but it will take true faith to guide Adam back to the heart of his Amish community—and to the loving marriage they both deserve.

Contains mature themes.

Release date: October 31, 2017

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 320

Sample

Sunflowers always made Belle happy. Very happy. Perhaps it was the way their large, oversized heads seemed to follow the sun. Or perhaps it was how they looked like bright, sunny yellow faces, smiling at her. Or maybe it was just because she favored the color yellow. Regardless of the reason, whenever she walked to town, Belle always paused to look at the small patch of tall, happy sunflowers that greeted her from the Troyers’ front garden. Today, with the sun shining overhead and the sky as clear as the day was long, would be no different.

Her friend Ella lived there with her two stepsisters and her stepmother, but they were most likely all working at their store in town. In their absence, Belle admired how Ella had planted their garden with the sunflowers lining the back rows and bookending the cornstalks that appeared almost ready to be harvested. She stood on the sidewalk and gazed at the garden, her hand on the white picket fence that bordered the Troyers’ property and the main street that led to Echo Creek. The warmth of the summer’s day on her back was almost as comforting to Belle as the sunflowers. She loved summer, even when it was hot and humid.

A male cardinal flew off the porch of the house and landed on top of a sunflower. Belle watched it for a few long seconds, admiring its red feathers and wondering why it was alone. They usually traveled with their mates.

“Hello there, Annabelle!”

Surprised, Belle turned to see who was greeting her from the porch. She lifted her hand to shield her brown eyes from the sun. “Is that Ella, then?”

Ella Troyer leaned against the white railing as she reached over to pluck the dry laundry from the line. She was a fetching young woman who, unlike Belle, had blond hair and a pretty face that mirrored her sweet personality. Even now as she worked, Ella smiled. “Kum visit a spell, Belle,” Ella called out.

Belle hurried down the sidewalk toward the house. “Not helping at your maem’s store today?”

“Nee, not today.” Ella unpinned a white towel and began to fold it. “Too much work at home, Maem says.” Ella laid the folded towel into the basket and leaned against the porch railing. Her smile broadened. “And isn’t that fortunate for me? Now I can be outside by myself, with no fear of Maem chastising me again or my schwesters bothering me. I like it when they’re all at the store.”

Belle did not respond, preferring to keep to herself what she wanted to say. She knew that Ella’s stepsisters had never been very kind to her, especially after Ella’s father had passed away the previous year. Often Ella was asked to work while her stepsisters went to singings and youth gatherings at the different Amish farms in Echo Creek. While Belle was just as happy to stay home with her nose buried in a book, she knew that Ella would have liked a bit more of a social life. But Linda, her stepmother, catered to her own daughters first and foremost, and that often meant that Ella stayed behind at home alone.

“That’s where I’m headed. The store,” Belle said at last.

Ella laughed, her blue eyes sparkling. “The new books arrived a few days ago. Just this morning, Maem was wondering when you’d stop by.”

Books. That was the only thing Belle loved more than sunflowers. Each month, she knew exactly when the new shipment was to arrive and usually was there at the Troyers’ store, waiting with anticipation. But yesterday it had rained, and this morning her father had needed her to help him in the barn. He was always trying new things or improving on something, and his latest invention would surely help the family regain its financial footing.

“I meant to kum last evening, but Daed was finishing his new grill. He’s taking it to Liberty Village on Wednesday morning to see if Schrock’s General Store will sell it to the Englischers.” She paused. Her father had tried to get Linda Troyer to carry the grill in her store. But Linda had been adamant that no one in Echo Creek would buy it. Belle didn’t want Ella to think that she was complaining about her stepmother’s rejection, so she added, “They have more tourists there, you know.”

Ella nodded. “Ja, I reckon they sure do. I’ll say a prayer tonight that his trip is successful.”

“Danke, Ella.” Belle glanced down the road that led to the center of town. “I best get going.” She waved at her friend and continued her journey to town.

Echo Creek was a small town with just a handful of stores. Ella’s stepmother had inherited Troyers’ General Store from her late husband. There was also a large feed and grain store, as well as a hardware and lumber store. Those were the main businesses on the strip that constituted the town center. Along a side street, the Lapp brothers built sheds that they sold to Englischers. Twice a month, a large truck came to town to pick up the sheds and drive them to the shed dealership in a neighboring county. And Joshua Mast had a blacksmith shop, where he shoed horses and repaired wheels for farm equipment and buggies.

Unlike most of the other families in Echo Creek, Belle’s family wasn’t from there, but the town was the only place Belle knew as home. She had been just six years old when her parents had moved to the farm on the outskirts of town. Her older brothers and sisters often spoke of their previous home in Trinity Falls, a neighboring community located just south of Echo Creek. Belle’s siblings frequently reminisced about how life was better then. The farm was larger and the soil richer. But their father wasn’t a very good farmer, at that, and three years of bad crops forced them to sell the farm and move to a more remote area. Then, two years later, their mother unexpectedly died.

Today, just over ten years later, Belle barely remembered her mother.

Now that her two brothers were older and married, both of them having returned to Trinity Falls with their wives, only Belle and her two sisters remained at home. Without the boys to help with the farmwork, her father had fallen on tough times. Again. If only one of her older sisters would marry someone who might move onto the farm to help Daed ! But that was looking less and less likely with each passing season. The fields were overgrown, and the only crops that seemed to grow on their farm were debt and dreams.

The bell rang over the door as Belle walked into the store, careful to close it behind her so that the midday heat didn’t tag along with her. She glanced around and immediately saw the bookcase. She hurried over to it, eager to discover what new books had arrived the previous evening.

“Good afternoon, Belle Beiler!”

She turned toward the front of the store, where Ella’s stepmother stood behind the cash register. “Good afternoon, Linda.” She hesitated before stepping away from the bookshelves to properly greet the older woman. “I just saw Ella, and she said the new books arrived yesterday.”

“Ja, that they did. Drusilla just unpacked them an hour ago. Thought you might be in today.” Linda pointed toward the bookshelves. “She set them toward the front of the display. I think you’ll be rather pleased with the new selection. Plenty of romances and a wonderful selection of those devotionals you like. The one on the end cap looks like something you’d enjoy.”

“Danke.”

Without waiting, Belle hurried back toward the shelves and began to peruse the different titles. While she was especially fond of romance novels, she looked for the devotional that Linda had mentioned.

In the Book of Matthew, Jesus tells us to judge not lest we be judged, if not by others than by God. Often I wonder how it is possible to not judge others? There are no two people who are exactly alike. That is the beauty of God’s creation in mankind. The very fact that everyone is different can create the urge to compare others to our own set of values and standards. When people fall short of our own expectations, how can we not judge them?

The answer to this is simple: remember that the ruler you use to measure other people’s shortcomings is nothing compared to the ruler that God uses to measure ours. Accept the differences in other people with compassion and understanding. Realize that you, too, are different from everyone else who might measure your imperfections. Release the urge to judge and instead embrace the differences, even those you disagree with, in order to be right with God.

For a moment, Belle simply sighed, pressing the book against her chest. If only others might live the Word of God as much as they preached it. However, far too often, people tended to tout the Golden Rule as a measure of how others should behave, rather than how they themselves should behave. Why, if only people switched their way of thinking, how much kinder the world would be! But Belle wasn’t necessarily concerned with the world. Her concern lay mostly with her community in Echo Creek. And, to be even more specific, with her father.

Just as Belle was about to read the next passage, she heard a commotion outside of the store. Loud footsteps and voices interrupted her peace.

“Maem! Kum quick!”

Belle looked up as Anna and Drusilla ran through the front door. They were out of breath, and Anna’s prayer kapp was askew on her head. Drusilla shut the door and bent down, peering through the window. “Did you see him?”

“See who, Dochders?”

“Adam Hershberger.”

At the sound of the name, Belle lost interest in the book. Instead, her attention was fully riveted to the conversation.

“Adam Hershberger? How would I have seen him?” Linda sounded irritated as she walked around the counter and joined her daughters.

Belle stared over the top of the bookshelf toward the door. Excited and pushing at each other, Anna and Drusilla were peering through the glass panes of the door. Linda, however, quickly ended their struggle to have a better look by shoving her way between them. Though she had tried to sound uninterested, Linda’s attention to the main street of Echo Creek was a clear indication that her curiosity was as piqued as that of her daughters.

“Are you sure you saw him, Drusilla?” Linda asked, standing upright when she realized that the main street was empty. Her two daughters stood before her, the one looking flushed in the cheeks and the other looking disheveled. “Mayhaps you were mistaken?”

Drusilla reached over to straighten her sister’s kapp. “Nee, Maem. We both just saw him as he drove through town in that odd-shaped buggy of his.”

“Really!” Once again, Linda peered through the door’s windowpanes. Anyone would be hard-pressed to mistake Adam Hershberger’s buggy. While the other Amish in Echo Creek drove plain black buggies with lighter-colored tops, Adam drove a completely black buggy that had a narrow window in the back and only slightly bigger ones in the doors. “I wonder what on earth he’s doing in town? He usually only kums at the beginning of autumn and spring.”

“And it’s summer!” Anna gushed.

“We know it’s summer, goose.” Drusilla nudged her sister’s arm.

“How that man survives, I’ll never know.” Once again, Linda stood up. “It’s not normal for a man to live alone like that. Although I must confess that I sure am glad he only visits here twice a year for his supplies. It’s unnerving to be in his presence, that’s for sure and certain.”

“I couldn’t see his face.” Anna sounded disappointed.

“And why would you want to?” Drusilla made a face, scrunching up her mouth and nose. “He’s so ugly with that scar!”

“You’ve never seen his face, either!” Anna snapped, giving her sister a sharp elbow to her side.

Belle frowned. She, too, had never seen Adam Hershberger, but like the rest of the town, she had certainly heard of him. Ever since she was a child, the other children had made fun of the elusive man who lived five miles from town, on one of the largest farms in the church district. Belle never understood why this was permitted, even though she understood the reasons behind the ridicule.

As a child, Adam had been caught in a fire; a fire that had left his face scarred. The fire had happened five years before her family moved into the town, and, since the Amish rarely spoke of tragic events, no one ever discussed the events of the actual fire. The only reason Belle had even learned that much was from overhearing an occasional comment, usually just a whispered reference to the fire, from other people whenever Adam’s name was mentioned, which wasn’t very often.

When Belle had been younger and still attending school, the other students often played a made-up game called “The Beast.” One student, usually a boy, would pretend to be Adam Hershberger and would scrunch up his face and chase the others, trying to capture them. Once his prey was captured, the Beast would pretend to eat the loser. It was a game that Belle despised and refused to play. Thankfully, Teacher had found out about the game and put an end to it. But the children had still whispered about Adam and his horrible face. Belle had always wondered how the children knew about Adam, since they certainly did not see him at church or in town. She suspected that they overheard their parents talking about the Hershbergers at home.

And yet Belle knew almost nothing about the Hershberger family.

Instead of chastising either of her daughters—something that Belle thought any good Amish woman should have done—Linda said, “It’s a wonder that Bishop doesn’t shun him.” She spoke mostly to herself but with a heavy distaste lingering on her words that Belle found rather strange.

At this, Belle could no longer remain a silent observer.

Slamming the book shut, Belle frowned at them. “Why on earth should Adam be shunned?” Belle folded the book under her arm and walked toward the gathering at the door. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Well,” Linda started slowly, a slight hesitation to that one word as if she was trying to find a valid justification for her comment. “Let’s start with the fact that he doesn’t attend church service. I’d think the bishop would care about that, being that Adam is baptized and all!”

That was the first Belle had ever heard of Adam being baptized. Of course, Adam was a great deal older than Belle—probably ten years or more—so, had he ever been baptized, it would have happened long ago.

Casually, Belle shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t blame him for not attending service, the way people talk about him so. Surely everyone would simply gawk at him!” Belle glanced at the back of Anna and Drusilla’s heads as they continued staring out the windowpanes. “I’m sure the bishop has taken that into consideration. His presence would be a distraction from worship and fellowship, don’t you think?”

“I heard the bishop goes out there once a month to provide him spiritual leadership.” Drusilla seemed pleased with herself for having this tidbit of knowledge.

“That’s something, at least.” Belle started to walk toward the counter, wanting to pay for her book and return home. It would take her a good forty-five minutes to walk there, and she wanted to get supper started early so that her father could retire for the evening. He needed to get up extra early the next day to prepare for his journey after doing the morning chores. And on Wednesday morning, he would leave at five o’clock in order to get to Liberty Village by eight, when the store opened.

“I’m ready to pay now,” she said when not one of the Troyers left their post at the door.

Reluctantly, Linda returned to the counter to ring up Belle’s purchase.

The entire community knew about Adam Hershberger and how he lived a reclusive life. Belle couldn’t understand their fascination with the man. As far as she knew, he never bothered anyone, rarely came to town, and seemed set in his ways. But for some reason, at the beginning of autumn and spring, those two times a year when he came to town, usually early in the morning, to stock up on dry goods for the upcoming season, everyone talked about it for weeks. The stories usually changed, too. If he bought two forty-pound bags of flour, after two weeks it grew to twenty bags! If he spoke to someone, another rare occurrence, by the time two weeks had passed, it had become an agitated argument. Belle merely rolled her eyes whenever she heard Adam’s name and the ridiculous stories people told. She had better things to do than participate in such folly.

She was halfway home, the road having changed from macadam to dirt and gravel, when she heard a buggy approaching her from behind. She stepped onto the grass, the road being more narrow here. A quick glance over her shoulder caused her to catch her breath. It was a strange-looking buggy, the top black instead of the regular gray color that the other Amish in their community drove. And the undercarriage was tapered, not square. As the buggy approached, Belle knew that it must be Adam Hershberger driving it. The doors were shut and there were hardly any windows—just narrow slits so that the driver could see his side mirrors.

But Belle could see enough to catch his eyes, at least one of them, staring at her.

For a moment, she felt oddly uncomfortable. A chill went down her spine, and she almost wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. But just as quickly as it happened, the chill vanished.

She stopped walking, and as she kept her eyes on that small window, she lifted her hand to wave at him, a small smile on her lips.

For a moment, the driver seemed to slow down the buggy, and from this vantage point, she could see inside the larger front window. He kept staring at her, a shadow of a man, dressed in all black except for the front of his white shirt. She couldn’t imagine that anyone would be wearing a dark jacket and heavy hat in such weather. It must have been terribly hot inside the buggy.

As the buggy passed her, she thought she heard his voice, and she definitely saw him lift the reins to slap upon the horse’s croup. The buggy lurched forward as the horse began to canter down the remainder of the road toward the bend that would lead past Belle’s home and toward Adam’s own farm, several miles down the same lane.

Once he was gone, Belle continued walking along the road, wondering what sort of man wouldn’t even open the doors of the buggy in order to let in some fresh air on such a hot summer day.

By the time she made it back home, it was almost three o’clock. She set her bag on the counter and hurried over to where she had hung her apron. After tying the apron around her waist, she set about her daily task of preparing supper for her father and sisters, the strange but brief encounter with Adam Hershberger long forgotten.

“Kum, Belle!” As he stood on the other side of the opened kitchen window, Melvin excitedly motioned with his hand for her to join him outside.

“What is it, Daed ?”

He grinned. “Kum see what your daed has made! This one will make you proud.”

Belle wiped her hands on her apron. “You know what the preachers say about pride, Daed.” But she smiled anyway as she crossed the floor to where he waited for her, by the back door. She was always proud of him. His passion for creating something new or more practical was certainly a gift from God. If only other people would start believing in him as much as she did. “Are you finished with the new prototype then?”

“I am indeed!” He grinned at her, his lower lip partially hidden by his mustache-less beard. It was so gray that it was almost white. But he always kept it neatly trimmed rather than letting it grow shaggy, like some of the other older men in their church district. And his eyes, so dark yet so full of life, sparkled as he gestured for her to walk faster. “I want you to see this, Belle. It’s finally ready and just the way I imagined it.”

His joy was contagious, and Belle hurried to follow him down the warped porch steps and over the patchy yard to the barn. It was a newer barn, which always puzzled Belle since the house was in such disrepair. And yet what should have housed forty cows in any other Amish farm now was . . .