E Is for Englischer

Book 5: Amish ABCs

by Shelley Shepard Gray

Genres: Amish & Mennonite; Clean & Wholesome Romance

Synopsis

After a lifetime working and living in bustling Millersburg, Ohio, 50-something Amish couple Mervin and Ruthie Miller have started anew in bucolic Walden—as “Gentlemen Farmers.” But they’ve discovered there’s nothing particularly gentle about farming in this charming tale for readers of Beverly Lewis, Amy Clipston, and Wanda E. Brunstetter.

SIMULTANEOUS HARDCOVER AND TRADE PAPERBACK RELEASE!

Ruthie always had a soft spot for 22-year-old Ella Pendleton, her former co-worker at Millersburg Fabric and Quilts. So when Ella is fired, Ruthie invites her to spend a couple of weeks in Walden. After all, she misses seeing Ella every day, and a picturesque change of scenery could lift her spirits, especially amid the holidays and the chill of winter. In return for Ruthie’s generous offer, Ella promises to help Ruthie learn to knit. But she is soon helping with more than that . . .

Ella quickly settles into the Millers’ guest room—and quickly realizes that the farm has them in over their heads. Charmed by Ruthie’s adorable, clueless, needy sheep, Ella volunteers to look after them. Her days soon fall into a routine. And then burly, darkly handsome, hard-working Russ Tate comes along . . .

Russ is a 30-year-old Amish carpenter who’s been hired to remodel the Millers’ kitchen. He’s quiet, a confirmed bachelor—and has no business crushing on an English young woman. And yet, like so much that involves the Millers, nothing goes quite as planned. Not the remodel, life with sheep—or trying not to fall for sweet, petite, kind-hearted Ella Pendleton.

Release date: November 24, 2026

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 272

Sample

Monday, November 29

Ella Pendleton never thought she’d be the type of girl to walk down the sidewalk with tears running down her cheeks, but there she was. People were staring, and one guy asked her if she was okay. Instead of thanking him for his concern or responding politely, she’d just glared. A muscle in his cheek had tightened before he looked away with a mutter under his breath.

She didn’t blame him.

If her mother had witnessed that exchange, she would’ve given Ella a talking-to about her manners. Her younger self would’ve listened, too. Tried to pull herself together.

Unfortunately, her current, messed-up self just kept crying. No doubt her nose was all red now, too, which was seriously unattractive. She’d never been a pretty crier.

Her brother, Brennan, used to say that she looked like she got hives when she cried. Her eyes would puff out and her cheeks would get blotchy red.

The sad part was that he’d been right.

It was a good thing he was stationed in Germany then, because Ella couldn’t care less how she looked. As far as she was concerned, she’d earned those tears.

No, it was more like she was overdue for those tears. Her boss seemed to live for making scathing remarks. Angel Gilmore really was insufferable.

Correction. Former boss.

After she walked another block, Ella attempted to finally pull herself together. She took a deep breath, straightened the edge of her puffer coat that had started to ride up around her hips, and swiped her eyes. To her surprise, her fingers barely got wet. It seemed that it was so cold that her tears had frozen onto her cheeks.

How was that a thing?

The fact that she’d been oblivious to the weather somehow made her feel worse than she already did. It was adding insult to injury, as far as she was concerned. Hadn’t her day been bad enough?

“Excuse me.”

Popping her head up, she met Atle Weaver’s annoyed expression. Then she realized she’d somehow stopped walking and had been standing in the middle of the snow-covered sidewalk. Blocking Atle’s way. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Weaver.” She stepped to the side with an apologetic smile.

But instead of continuing on, concern filled his gaze. “What is the matter, Ella?”

“Umm …” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him. But still, she hesitated. She didn’t know why.

Atle and his wife were good customers at Millersburg Quilt and Sew. Well, Martha, his wife, was. Ella had gotten to know them both over the past year and had always been pleased when they entered. Even though she was very English and he was very Amish, they’d gotten along well. Atle, in particular, had always been kind to her.

Realizing that she sure could use some of that kindness right then and there, she took a deep breath and blurted the awful, embarrassing truth. “I just got fired.”

His bushy gray eyebrows rose a good two inches. “Truly? From where?”

“The Quilt and Sew.” She swiped at a frozen tear track with her hand.

“Well, I’m mighty sorry to hear that news.”

“Me, too.” She sniffed again. Comforted by his look of dismay, Ella tried to smile, though her effort probably came out looking like the Joker in one of those Batman movies she used to love to watch.

Thank goodness it didn’t scare Atle away. Instead of staring at her in fright, he seemed to be fuming.

“That Angel and her man, Joseph. Every time I think I’ve heard of everything they pull, one of them comes up with some fool act to surprise me.” An irritated scowl flashed across his features. “If there’s a more difficult couple to get along with in this world, I haven’t met them.”

Though she knew she shouldn’t be standing around talking bad about the couple, Ella couldn’t help but agree. “Me, neither. Angel seems to continually wake up on the wrong side of her bed.”

Atle grinned before schooling his expression. “Did they give you two weeks’ notice?”

“No. They said it was effective immediately.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“I didn’t think so either.” Figuring there was no reason to keep the conversation private, Ella added, “They didn’t even give me a good reason. Only that December usually wasn’t their best month in sales and that January wasn’t going to be good either. They want to cut corners.” She grunted. “And employees.”

“December is usually a great month for all the shops in Millersburg. Not only are the tourists here, but all the ladies are working on Christmas gifts. Why, Martha has unfinished projects all over the house. I know all her girlfriends do, too. She was just telling me yesterday that she was going to need to come in and see you.”

“You mean the shop?”

“No, dear, you.” Stepping a bit closer, he added, “Everyone who walks in that store likes you to be the one to help them. They say you know more about sewing and crafts than most Amish women! My Martha’s going to be mighty upset when I tell her your news.”

“Thanks for saying that.” Finally pulling herself together, she added, “I’m sorry for telling you all my bad news, but getting it off my chest makes me feel better. Thanks for listening.”

“I wasn’t just friends with your parents, God rest their souls, but I’m your friend, too, Ella. Listening to you ain’t a problem.” He grumbled under his breath. “Now, what do you need, child?”

Only then did she realize that she’d been sharing far too much with a man who wasn’t exactly a close friend. Atle and Martha Weaver had been friends of her parents’, on account of her mother growing up Amish before jumping the fence when she’d fallen in love with a former Air Force officer.

Years ago, the Weavers used to come over for supper every now and then. Atle used to always bring her and Brennan licorice ropes when they were kids.

She couldn’t believe she still remembered that.

Concern filled the older man’s features. “Ella, I’m starting to worry about you.”

“Please don’t. I’m fine. And thank you, but I don’t need anything.” Feeling as if her mother would be pleased with her again, Ella attempted to smile. “Please tell Martha I said hello. And, I really am sorry to have been in your way.”

But Atle didn’t move. Instead, he swiped another almost-frozen tear track from her cheek. When she looked up at him, he spoke again.

“Angel and her husband never were the sharpest tools in the shed. I have a feeling that all the excuses they told you were probably only half of the real story. There’s no tellin’ what it is. I have a feeling that one day you are going to look back at this moment and realize it’s a blessing.”

Ella knew what Atle was talking about—Angel truly did have an unpleasant habit of yelling and then apologizing on a daily basis.

No one stayed working there for very long. She was the only woman working there who wasn’t Amish. To her surprise, they had even less patience with their temperamental boss than she did.

Well, had.

Now she was going to need to find a new job fast. Rent for her room at Rosa’s was due in less than a week and she only had enough money in her savings account to pay next month.

Not for February.

But there was no way she was going to share that with Atle. “I’d best get on home.”

“Jah. Me, too. But you aren’t alone, Ella. Let someone know if you need some help. At the very least, call your brother. Brennan’s a good sort. He’s just like your father was.” Patting her arm, he continued. “Brennan will take care of everything for you in no time.”

That was the problem, though. Brennan was used to cleaning up her messes and bailing her out of trouble. No, he was too used to doing that.

She didn’t want to be that woman anymore, either.

Smiling weakly, Ella strode past him on the patch of snow-covered grass that separated the sidewalk from the street. It was terribly cold. Neither she nor the older man needed to be out in the weather any longer.

Plus, as well-meaning as his words were, Ella knew they weren’t true. Not really. She’d been alone in life for a very long time.

Luckily Rosa’s entryway and living room were empty. Only a roaring fire and Queenie were there to greet her. Queenie, her blond, sweet, slightly chubby long-haired dachshund, looked up, then jumped to her feet. With a series of shrill, happy barks, she hurried to Ella’s side.

“Hi, you sweet girl. Have you been keeping warm?”

Queenie wagged her tail, then closed her eyes while Ella ran a hand down her side. “I love you, too.” Scooping the dog up, she carried her outside to do her business. When she got back in, Rosa was waiting on her.

“Boy, you just gave me a fright. I came in here to check on Queenie and couldn’t find her anywhere.”

“I only arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Well, you must have snuck in like a bandit.”

She hadn’t been any quieter than usual. She wasn’t going to mention that, though. Rosa would take it hard and fret more than she usually did about the downfalls of growing old. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t. But you’re home early today.”

“You’re right. I am.” When she didn’t expand on that, Rosa seemed to stare at her a little bit harder. And because of that, Ella’s stomach sank. Her landlady wasn’t going to let this change in her schedule go.

“Did the shop close early because of the weather?” Rosa asked.

“I’m not sure. Angel let me leave early.”

Rosa frowned. “Just like that?” Obviously, she knew all about Angel’s reputation, too.

Ella swallowed. She hated lying, but telling the truth would bring forth a barrage of questions that she wasn’t willing to answer. “Just like that,” she replied. Added a smile for good measure.

“Well now, that’s nice. I made some soup. It’s old-fashioned chicken and noodle.” She chuckled. “No frills and lots of comfort. Would you like some?”

“Thanks, but I’m not too hungry yet. I’ll wait until dinner.”

“Are you sure? We’re having chicken tonight.”

“I think chicken and chicken soup sounds great together,” Ella joked. “Thanks.” Just as she bent down to pick up Queenie and carry her upstairs to her room, Rosa’s voice stopped her again. “Ella.”

She turned to face her. “Yes?”

“Have you been crying?” She pointed to her cheek. “You’ve got a line of mascara on you.”

Great. She’d probably been walking through town looking like a raccoon. “I think my eyes were watering because of the cold.”

“Oh. Of course.” Just as she started to walk away, Rosa snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot! You received two letters in today’s mail. They’re in the basket.”

“Thanks. I’ll go get them. Then Queenie and I are going to head on up.”

“Of course, dear. It’s none of my business what you’re up to,” she added in her usual, breezy way. “I’ll see you later.”

Since Rosa had never met a bit of information that she didn’t file away like an excited librarian, Ella couldn’t help but smirk at the woman’s attempt to give her privacy. Rosa didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Unable to decide if she thought it was amusing or if she’d just gotten used to Rosa’s nosy ways, Ella stuffed the two letters in her purse, picked up Queenie, and climbed the flight of stairs to her suite of rooms.

It was a suite, too. There was a small sitting area with a small college-dorm-size refrigerator and toaster oven on a butcher block island on wheels. Off the sitting area was a bedroom big enough for a twin-sized bed, bedside table, and dresser. Right off the bedroom was a small, tidy bathroom. All the walls were pale pink and the blinds were good quality and white.

The entire living area was all rather lovely, yet very small. When she’d first moved in, Ella couldn’t help but compare it to Barbie’s dream house. It was so cute and perfect—the opposite of how she felt about herself.

It was hers, though, and she’d gotten used to living there. It was snug and for now it was her home.

By the time Ella unlocked the door, she was more than ready to collapse in her favorite chair and have a good cry. Here it was almost Christmas and she’d almost made peace with the fact that she was going to be alone again. She’d been telling herself that she didn’t need to be happy, she only needed to be content with herself. Angel’s actions had ruined that small sense of security and she didn’t know how to get it back.

“One step at a time,” she whispered to herself. It had been her mother’s favorite phrase and it was a good one. Feeling a bit better, she decided to veg out in front of the TV with one of her favorite reality shows, sip hot tea that she made in an electric kettle, and pull herself together.

Fifteen minutes later she was doing just that. Well, the hot tea, curled up, favorite chair part. Not the television. Instead, she was wiping her eyes as Angel’s abrupt firing hit her hard again.

She still wasn’t sure what she did wrong at the shop, but maybe it was as Atle had insinuated. Maybe it was a matter of Angel and her husband needing to tighten their financial belts and make some necessary cuts. That was their prerogative.

It didn’t seem like that had been their motivation, though. It had kind of seemed like Angel had fired her for something that Ella had done wrong.

She had no idea what she’d done, though.

Feeling more dismayed by the second, Ella pulled out the two pieces of mail. She put the bill from the cell phone company to one side as she stared at the other envelope. Her name and address had been handwritten. It was obviously a personal letter. Flipping the envelope over, she realized it was from Bethany Armstrong, formerly Bethany Miller.

Boy, there was a blast from the past! The Millers had been good friends of their parents’, and had lived just two streets over from them.

Bethany had even used to babysit her back when Ella was four or five and Brennan was eight or nine. As the years passed and Brennan got busy with sports, Bethany would just watch Ella.

Later, after their parents died and Brennan had become her guardian, Ella had stayed in touch with Bethany and her husband. Bethany had always been kind to her. As the difference in ages didn’t matter so much, they’d discovered they had a lot in common. Especially since Bethany had elected to not get baptized and lived a very English life.

Curious about why Bethany had written her a note instead of simply calling her on the phone, Ella pulled open the letter.

Dear Ella, it began. I’m writing because I need your help and I wanted you to have all the information before you tell me no.

Curious—and even more apprehensive—Ella read the next paragraph with interest.

Okay, here we go. Ella I’m wondering if you might consider moving. I’ve heard that you’re living in a room in downtown Millersburg and working at the quilt shop nearby, too. Maybe you’re really happy with both situations, but I’m asking you to consider moving to my parents’ farm for the next year. You’d get to live in the dawdi haus, and it’s been all fixed up, thanks to the former tenant who lived here, Kyle Hostetler.

See, here’s the deal. My parents bought four sheep. They’re adorable. They’re mild mannered. But they seem to be as clueless about what they need as my parents are with what to do with them.

“Sheep?”

Queenie raised her head.

Bethany continued. My mother has also decided that she wants to make yarn out of all their wool and knit sweaters. You’ve always loved to knit, right?

“Wrong.” She’d always loved to sew, not knit.

Before you pick up the phone and tell me that your love of knitting has nothing to do with caring for a flock of sheep or transforming wool into yarn, please know that no one expects you to know any of that. My brother and I are pretty sure that our parents’ fascination with these sheep will fade like their other interests. All you need to do is help until that happens. And don’t say you can’t, because I know that you’re fantastic at finding out information and that you love animals.

I’m asking you to help because my parents adore you. Plus, you’ve got a sweet way about you. You’ll be able to rein in their excitement, make sure they’re okay, and give them a little security … all without hurting their feelings.

Of course, you’d be paid a salary for all your hard work. Plus, your room and board will be taken care of. By the end of the year, you should have quite a bit of money put aside to go do whatever you want. Maybe go back to school or move to Louisville like you used to dream about.

You’ll have a lot more choices available to you. Also, for what it’s worth, you’ll have our entire family’s gratitude.

Thanks for considering this. Please think on it for twenty-four hours before you give me a call and tell me no.

Love, Bethy

Ella read the letter again, this time much more slowly. Really thought about everything Bethany was suggesting.

And then, to her amazement, she laughed.

“You’re as bossy as ever, Bethany Miller.” When Queenie barked, Ella looked down at her with a giggle. “I hope you’re agreeing with me, you silly girl,” she teased.

The dachshund hopped on her lap and curled in a ball, her tail covering her brown nose.

Ella ran her hand down the dog’s side and closed her eyes. What a crazy, strange day.

A couple of moments later, she realized that she was no longer dwelling on everything that had gone wrong at the Quilt and Sew … and everything that might be very right about Bethany’s request.

She might, just might, once again have something exciting to look forward to in her future.

Monday, December 6

Exactly one week after she got fired and Bethany offered her a new life, Ella was moving into the Millers’ dawdi haus.

Bethany had rented a U-Haul truck. She and her husband, Phillip, had helped Ella carry all of her things down Rosa’s narrow, steep stairs and pack it all into the truck. Since Ella didn’t have all that much, it didn’t take very much time at all. After giving Rosa a quick hug, Ella put Queenie in her car seat, and then followed the couple to Ruthie and Mervin’s farm.

For maybe the first time ever, Ella was glad her parents weren’t around. If they were, they would have had a lot to say about Ella agreeing to live at the Millers’ for a whole year before she’d even caught a glimpse of the place.

Then, too, was the fact that the dawdi haus was very Amish. As in there-was-no-electricity Amish. She was going to have to use a bunch of batteries to run her bedside light and the gas-fueled generator in the barn to charge her cell phone. That was just the beginning, too.

Ella could practically see her father shaking his head in wonder—and that would be before he’d start telling her that she was forever letting impulses get the best of her. That had been her father’s biggest frustration with her. She jumped without looking to the other side. Such a thing was foreign to a military man.. . .