Grace's Forgiveness

Book 2: Keepsake Pocket Quilt Novel

by Molly Jebber

Genres: Amish & Mennonite; Christian Romance; Romance; Historical Romance

Synopsis

A midwife and a handsome newcomer get a chance at happiness in this heartwarming novel from the author of Change of Heart and the Amish Charm Bakery Books. Grace Blauch is skilled at midwifery—and crafting quilts that help others pass on messages of enduring family love. But a disfiguring birthmark keeps the young Amish woman from a husband and home of her own—until Mark King arrives from another community. His helpfulness and independent nature earn Grace’s respect. And he finds her outspoken ways and determination to do right irresistibly appealing. Soon Grace is planning a wedding quilt of her very own . . . until her father discovers that Mark’s shunned brother is hiding somewhere in town. Grace can well understand why Mark took such a risk once she hears his wrenching reasons. But she fears even prayer will not convince her father to restore his blessing on their union. She wills herself to face the end of her dreams, but sudden danger and an impossible act of generosity will show her that abiding hope can inspire the most precious of miracles . . . Praise for Molly Jebber’s Change of Heart “Endearing characters and a delightful story make this a keeper for fans of Amish romance.”—Emma Miller, author of the Amish Mystery series “This is a wonderfully written historical romance with Amish and Englisch characters who are loveable and considerate of others. The storyline is believable and heartwarming. Jebber is a talented author.”— RT Book Reviews

Release date: February 1, 2016

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 320

Sample

Berlin, Ohio, 1900

Grace Blauch pushed the door open to Grace and Sarah’s Dry Goods Shop on Wednesday morning and shut it against the August heat behind her. Who was the attractive Amish man laughing with Sarah? No beard. He’s unwed. He towered over her friend and partner’s petite frame. She dropped her birthing supply bag on the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry I’m late. If Mamm hadn’t dropped a pan in the kitchen and woke me, I’d have been even later.”

Sarah Helmuth waved her over. “Don’t apologize. I’m pleased you’re here. Meet Mark King.” She hooked her arm through Grace’s and grinned. “This is my friend and partner, Grace Blauch.”

Smiling, hat in hand, he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her heart raced. Most strangers turned away from her face the first time she met them, but Mark gazed into her eyes. He didn’t stare at the red apple-sized birthmark on her left cheek. What a refreshing change. “Wilkom to Berlin.”

He had a small thin jagged line under his right eye. The scar added character to his handsome face. What was the story behind it? She liked his thick, dark wavy hair, straight white teeth, structured jawline, and broad shoulders. He held his tall black hat, without a speck of dust on it, by his side. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, black pants, and suspenders, he had a neat appearance. “If you’ll pass me your hat, I’ll hang it up for you.” She hung his hat on the knotty maple rack.

Sarah pushed a stray curly blond hair into her white kapp. “Mark moved to Berlin from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, on Monday. Levi went over briefly and introduced himself to Mark.” She separated from Grace and leaned against the counter. “The Stoltzfuses sold him their place not far from us. Mr. Stoltzfus wrote and asked Levi to plant his hay and garden in May. Levi asked some of his friends to help him, and they have been taking care of it.”

Sarah tossed a loose thread on the counter in the trash bin. “Mr. Stoltzfus didn’t write in his letter to Levi whether he planned to return to Berlin or sell his property. He’d gone to Lancaster to help his bruder, who was ill back in February. He sold off his livestock before he left. We were surprised to learn from Mark that Mr. Stoltzfus and his fraa died just days before Mark left to kumme here.”

Grace pressed a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry to hear this. I had met them, but I didn’t know them well.”

“It’s understandable. Their time in Berlin was short.”

Mark gazed into her eyes. “Mr. Stoltzfus’s bruder died and left his haus to them. They had planned on moving back to Berlin, but they had grown to like Lancaster better.”

Sarah retied her loose apron strings. “Mark visited Levi and me before supper last night. He invited us to his haus and showed us Mr. Stoltzfus’s, now his, workshop on his property, where he handcrafts his things.” She bounced on her toes. “Levi liked the oak shelves Mark built. My husband wasted no time offering to buy them for here, but Mark insisted on giving them to us.”

Grace pointed to overstacked quilts on a table. “That’s wonderful. We need them.”

“Mark has offered to hang them, and I accepted. No telling when Levi would ever have built them for us. No doubt he means well, but he puts work such as this off.”

Mark King will be hanging the shelves in our shop. She’d get to speak to him again. What good news. “We appreciate your help.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hang the shelves tomorrow.”

“Grace opens early most days, and I kumme in a little later. She doesn’t have a husband to cook breakfast for yet. Today we switched to give her a break. You can schedule a time with her to start work.” Sarah winked at Grace.

Grace’s cheeks heated. Sarah’s attempt to play matchmaker was far too obvious. She glimpsed at Mark. His face had reddened, but his grin remained. His reaction couldn’t have been any better.

He coughed and covered his mouth. “Miss Blauch, what time would you like me to start working tomorrow?”

“Please call me Grace. Is eight all right?”

“Eight is good.” He met her eyes. “Please call me Mark.” He retrieved his hat. “Have a nice day.” He grinned at her then departed.

Her heart pounded. His smile, the sparkle in his eyes, and his strong but kind voice lingered in her mind. She couldn’t wait to learn more about him if Sarah hadn’t scared him away with her obvious matchmaking. Grace lowered her chin and crossed her arms. “You embarrassed me when you said I didn’t have a husband.”

Sarah gently tapped Grace’s nose. “I didn’t exist after you walked in the room. Mark King is smitten with you.” She chuckled. “I’ll not apologize. His face brightened when I told him. You’re glad I blurted it out. Admit it.”

Grace’s face softened. “He met my eyes while talking to me instead of staring at my cheek like most people I meet. His reaction was refreshing.”

“Since he’ll be working in the shop, you’ll have a chance to learn more about him.”

“What have you found out about him?”

“Two years ago, a stagecoach hit his parents’ buggy and they didn’t survive.” She leaned against the maple table. “I asked if he had siblings, and he said not anymore. You came in before I could find out what he meant.”

Grace moved to the small wood-burning stove in the corner, opened the door, and found logs inside. She added crumbled paper and a small amount of kindling, lit a match, grasped the poker, and coaxed the fire to take hold. “Maybe his bruder or schweschder died and the subject is too painful to discuss. You said he visited you and Levi. What did Levi have to say about him?”

“Levi likes him. They talked about carpentry, farming, and fishing for over an hour.”

Two Englischers entered. The tall elegant woman wore a fitted red and blue dress, showing off her long, slender legs. The short round woman with full cheeks had on a too-tight yellow dress. She scurried to catch up with her long-legged friend.

Grace faced them. “Wilkom. How may I help you today?”

The two women narrowed their eyes, frowned, and grimaced. “We came in to browse.”

She held a hand to her face. Would she ever remain unaffected by strangers’ stares? “Take your time. I’ll help you with whatever you need.”

The taller woman raised her eyebrows and leaned close to her friend. “Did you notice the poor girl’s birthmark?”

“Yes. The discoloration is hard to miss. What a pity.”

The women should have kept their voices down. Her birthmark hadn’t damaged her ability to hear. Grace hurried to the back room but kept the door open to view the patrons.

Sarah followed. “Don’t let those customers’ comments upset you.”

Her friend meant well, but Sarah had flawless skin. She had no idea what it was like to have strangers wince and stare at her. “I am working on it, but it’s difficult.”

Sarah put her hands on Grace’s shoulders. “God gave you pretty brown hair, deep brown eyes, a petite nose, and a tall thin frame. I’m certain many women would love to have any one of those features. You possess them all.”

She shouldn’t complain. God had blessed her with a healthy body. She straightened her shoulders and smoothed her white apron. “I agree. I shouldn’t let their remarks bother me.” She threw back her shoulders. “I’ll assist the women while you check our supplies.”

The tall woman fingered the green and brown friendship quilt hanging on the wall. She patted the pocket. “What’s this for?”

“You write a heartfelt letter to the person you’re giving the quilt to and tuck it inside the pocket. We call them keepsake pocket quilts.”

The short woman with curly brown hair held a white eyelet one. “I want this one for my daughter. Who came up with this wonderful idea?”

“Becca Carrington and her schweschder, Ruth Kelly, sell them in their shop in Massillon, Ohio. The schweschders suggested we and several women in our community stitch the keepsake pocket quilts and sell them here.”

The taller woman beamed. “I love the idea. I must tell my friends to shop here when they visit Berlin.”

Sliding back the curtain under the pinewood table used for checking out customers, Grace removed the dented gray metal cashbox hidden underneath the counter.

Both women unclasped their reticules and paid Grace for their selections.

“Danki.” She dropped the coins in their proper spots, closed the box, and recorded the sale in the journal. She and Sarah would have extra money to pay Mark for building the shelves, without taking it out of the money they’d planned to use for buying new fabric. “I hope you’ll have a chance to visit us again. Have a safe trip.” She stowed the cashbox underneath the counter. She’d never tire of recording a sale.

Grace joined Sarah in the supply room at the back of the store. “With the two quilts off the walls, we have the perfect spot for Mark to build the shelves.” She yanked a sheet and white blanket from the top of an old oak chest and put them on a cot. “The shelves will allow us to display more of our products, and we won’t have to store as much of them back here.”

Sarah sighed. “I appreciate you managing the shop with me in addition to helping women birth their bopplin. I wouldn’t want to manage this place alone. I could never be a midwife. I can’t stand the sight of blood.” Sarah frowned and crossed her arms. “Something you said earlier bothered me.”

Grace paused and raised her eyebrows. “What did I say to upset you?”

“You shouldn’t tell our patrons Becca and her schweschder gave you the idea to sell the quilts in our shop. We have no need to communicate with her. If Bishop Weaver finds out, we’ll be chastised. You are to shun Becca and Ruth for joining the church then leaving our Amish community.” She heaved a big sigh. “Enough said on the matter. We don’t need to discuss it any further.”

Grace opened her mouth to speak but shut it. Becca was her dear friend. She missed her. Shunning Becca hurt her worse than customers making rude comments about her birthmark. Her friend had no problem adhering to Amish law when it came to Becca. Sarah hadn’t experienced losing a best friend to the outside world.

“I understand your concern. I won’t mention to patrons again that Becca and Ruth gave us the idea to sell the keepsake pocket quilts.”

“Like I said, we can put this behind us.” Sarah nudged Grace’s arm. “I’m more interested in talking about Mark. Are you excited he’ll be working here?”

Grace clasped her hands. Of course she was, but she didn’t want to dwell on him. New in town, it wouldn’t be long before other available women would find him handsome too. “I am, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Grace moved to the stove. She touched the small pan on top and withdrew her hand back. The coffee was hot. Mark came in. She turned in surprise.

He strode over to her and removed his hat. “Did I leave a paper marked with shelf measurements here?”

She searched behind the desk, bent, and snatched a note from the floor and held it up. He had a striking, suntanned face. “Is this what you’re looking for?” She passed the note to him.

He scanned it. “Danki. Now I don’t have to measure the walls again.”

Sarah grabbed her small, plain reticule. “Mark, I apologize for not offering you anything to drink earlier this morning. Please stay and have a cup of hot coffee with Grace. I’m going to the General Store. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“No need to apologize.”

“I appreciate your understanding, but really, don’t rush off. Customers may kumme in and interrupt, but I’d like for you and Grace to get better acquainted.” She winked at Grace, tied her kapp strings, and departed.

Grace loved her friend, but she could be too direct at times. Putting the embarrassing moment out of her mind, she shrugged her shoulder to the small pan. “Would you like coffee? I brought some from home and it’s on the stove and ready to drink.”

“Jah, danki.”

This man affected her like no other. She couldn’t explain it. Grace poured the coffee and passed a mug to him.

The mug slipped through his hands. Bang. Splat. Pieces of glass slid across the floor. He blushed. “I’m as clumsy as an oaf. I’m sorry about the mess.” Mark bent to pick up a shard of glass and cut his hand. “Ouch!” He jerked his hand back. Blood dripped onto his shoe. “You’ll never invite me again if I keep dropping things and bleeding all over your floor.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “You’re wilkom here anytime. Accidents happen. Are you all right?” She grabbed a clean towel and threw it to him. “Wrap your hand. I’ll be back in a minute.” She ran to a porcelain pitcher filled with water in the back, wet a towel, grabbed two dry ones, and picked up her medical supply bag by the front door. Next to him, she stooped, threw open her bag, and dug out what she needed and tended to his hand. I like his large, strong, calloused hands. He must be a hard worker. “You don’t need stitches and the bleeding has stopped. You may take the bandage off in a day or so.”

“Are you a nurse and a shop owner?”

“I’m a midwife. My daed and Sarah’s husband, Levi, bought the shop and gave it to her and me to manage. It adds extra income to both our families to tide us over, especially in the winter months.”

Grace grabbed the soiled cloths, stuffed them in an empty flour sack from under the shelf, and dropped them out of sight behind the counter. “I’ll pour you another mug of coffee.”

“I’d like another one. Danki.” He grabbed a broom and dustpan propped against the wall behind the counter, swept up the broken pieces, and threw them in the trash bin. He returned the broom and dustpan to their original spot then snatched towels to wipe up the remaining liquid and added the soiled cloths the bag Grace had dropped rags in.

Grace poured steaming coffee in Mark’s mug. She then scanned the floor where the glass had been. “You didn’t have to clean up the mess, but I appreciate it.”

“Glad to do it. My mamm taught me well.” He pointed to her middle door. “We’ll be neighbors. I bought the empty space next door after I left your shop this morning. We’ll have a connecting door between our shops, making it easier for us to visit. I didn’t tell Levi or Sarah. I didn’t want to say anything about it to anyone until I was certain the previous owner and I could agree on a price. I’ll open my store a week from Saturday.”

What wonderful news. This day kept getting better. “Congratulations.” She slid her hands in her white apron pockets. “Did you have a store in Lancaster?”

“No. I built homes. In the evenings I constructed tables, chairs, and bread and potato boxes out of oak and maple. I carved miniature toy bears and other animals out of pine. I wanted to have a sampling of different items to sell before I opened my shop. I had hired a man to manage my farm so I’d have more time to construct my things. I’m thankful my worker found another job before I left.”

“Why did you choose Berlin to start a new life?”

“My haus caught on fire and burnt to the ground. I had gotten acquainted with Mr. Stoltzfus, and he offered to sell me his property here.”

Grace sighed. “What caused it?”

“Someone I knew accidentally knocked over a lit lantern in my barn. The fire spread and destroyed it and my haus. I stayed with my other neighbor until after the Stoltzfuses’ funeral and then came to Berlin.”

Mark had endured a lot of pain in his life, losing his parents and his haus. It must be hard to move to a new place where he wasn’t familiar with anyone. She couldn’t imagine doing the same. “It must’ve been disheartening for you to lose your barn, your haus, your parents, and the Stoltzfuses.”

“It was a shock. As far as the fire goes, I’m relieved my handcrafted furniture and such in the workshop weren’t harmed. It would take a long time to replace them.”

“I’m surprised you bought Mr. Stoltzfus’s haus sight unseen.”

He laughed. “We had become fast friends. I trusted him.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I needed somewhere to live, and the man asked a fair price I could afford. If anything had been wrong with the haus, I knew I could repair it.” Pausing, he walked over to a quilt. “This caught my eye while we were talking. Did you make this one?”

“I did. The Jacob’s ladder pattern is one of my favorite ones.”

He put his mug on the counter. “This would be perfect to drape over the back of my settee.” He studied the pinned price note. “I’ll buy it.”

Mark helped her unhook his purchase off three wooden pegs, folded the material, unpinned the small white paper, and paid her. She patted the pocket. “You could write a letter, tuck it inside, and give the quilt to someone special for a keepsake.”

“Maybe I will someday.”

His rough-skinned fingers grazed hers, and she warmed. Mark King had left his friends and church and everything familiar behind. How intriguing. Did he have other reasons why he left Lancaster to begin a new life in Berlin? “Won’t you miss your friends?”

“Jah, but I’ll write to them.” He tucked his quilt under his arm and then glimpsed at the small wooden pine clock on the counter. “I should go. I bought livestock, a rooster, and hens from an Englischer I met at the General Store. His name’s Jed Post. He told the storeowner he’s moving and selling his livestock. He asked if the storeowner knew anyone who’d be interested in buying them. I introduced myself, and Mr. Post sold them to me for a good price. He’s bringing them to me around ten.”

“The man’s timing and yours couldn’t have been better. Have a nice day. I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning.”

“See you then, Grace.” He closed the door behind him.

Sarah returned several minutes later. “Did you have a chance to get better acquainted with Mark?”

Grace traced the top of his empty mug. “Yes, and he bought the store next to us this morning.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t tell Levi about it. We assumed he was going to sell his things out of his workshop beside his barn. Having a store in town will give him better access to walk-in customers.”

“He didn’t want to tell anyone until he’d settled on a price with the owner. He’ll open it to patrons in a week from Saturday.”

“Oh, Grace, I’m so excited! He’ll be right next door. It’ll give you an even better chance to talk to him.”

Grace glanced at the clock. Eight in the morning couldn’t kumme soon enough.

Mark stepped onto the boardwalk, shielded his eyes from the bright sun, and headed for the livery. The morning had flown. It was 9:40. He should’ve left Grace’s earlier, but wild horses couldn’t have pulled him away from her. She’d captivated his interest with those deep brown eyes. He walked faster. Mr. Post might already be at his haus.

He dodged horses and buggies while crossing the road. Townsfolk filled the streets, and stores buzzed with activity. He passed Amish and Englischer patrons exiting and entering Berlin’s General Store and post office. He glanced at the blacksmith hammering a horseshoe. The aroma of fresh baked bread filled the air in front of the bakery. He ducked in the store and bought a loaf for supper.

His purchase in hand, he sidestepped past the hunched-over peddler selling carved oak canes to a patron. Threatening gray clouds rolled in and covered the sun. The weather wouldn’t dampen his mood today. Not after meeting Grace. Her choice of work forced her to deal with patrons face-to-face. Her birthmark hadn’t stopped her from being a midwife and store manager. Impressive. She had a melodious voice, big brown eyes, and a cheerful attitude. Kind and sweet described her best.

He hadn’t known whether to mention his bruder or not when Sarah asked if he had siblings. Amish law stated he should shun anyone who joined the church then left the Amish order, as if they were dead. His bruder might ask friends in Lancaster where he had moved to. If Abel came to his haus or shop and asked for help, what would he do? He pushed the anguish out of his mind.

Mark approached the liveryman, paid his fee, and retrieved his horse and buckboard. On his way home, the soft wind blew the dark clouds away, allowing the sun to shine. He’d open the windows to invite the fresh air inside when he arrived home.

He climbed out of the buckboard and tied the horse’s reins to the white hitching post. Jed Post stood on his porch. He motioned to a young man who sat in a spring wagon loaded with crates of hens and a rooster. Three other young men managed the livestock.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.”

“No, we arrived a few minutes ago. We’ll follow you to the barn and help you secure the animals.” Mr. Post introduced Mark to his sons. “Call me Jed.”

“Danki, and call me Mark.” He unhitched his horse from his buckboard and stowed him in a stall.

The men guided and secured the plow horse, sow, hogs, cows, hens, and rooster inside the barn.

Mark indicated the haus. “I’ll go inside and get the money I owe you. You’re wilkom to kumme inside and rest. Would any of you like something to eat or drink?”

“Danki, but we can’t stay long. We’re getting ready to move and have a lot of work to do before the sun sets. I’ll wait here.”

Mark went inside, retrieved coins from his money jar, and joined Jed. He pressed the coins in his hand. “Danki.” He chatted with his visitors for about ten minutes.

Jed gestured to his sons. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mark. We should be on our way. My bruder is expecting us. He’s much older than I am and not in good health. We’re going to move into his big place and take over his farm in Lancaster. He’s got more livestock than I need. I’m pleased you bought mine.”

“I’m sorry your bruder is ill. I hope all goes well as you travel there.” Mark bid them farewell and checked the livestock again. The animals appeared healthy and were what he needed.

Several minutes later, a horse’s neigh caught his attention. He peeked outside. Who was coming toward his haus? This day had been busy. It was a good thing he’d finished a lot of his chores at six this morning. A short, round Amish man got out of his buggy and held his horse’s reins. Wire-framed spectacles sat low on the man’s nose. “I’m Bishop Weaver.”

“I’m Mark King. Would you like to kumme in?”

“Jah, may I call you Mark?”

“Of course, but before we go inside, I’ll give your horse food and water.”

“Don’t bother. I mean to stay only a short time.” Bishop Weaver secured his horse to the hitching post and patted the animal’s head. “There you go, boy.” He then followed Mark inside.

Bishop Weaver removed his hat and hung it on a sturdy new maple rack displaying thick hooks Mark had nailed to the wall next to the front door.

Mark should’ve prepared answers for questions Bishop Weaver and others might ask about his family. “Have a seat.” He opened the windows and breathed in. “It looks like the clouds have departed.” He approached his guest. “Would you like anything to eat or drink? It’s close to eleven thirty. I have stew I can heat.”

“Nothing for me, danki.” Bishop Weaver placed his hat on his lap. “Levi Helmuth told me about your parents’ and the Stoltzfuses’ accidents and the fire. The Stoltzfuses were good friends of mine. I was surprised to hear they are with God in Hea. . .