Loving Lovina

Book 3: Infamous Amish

by Patricia Johns

Genres: Amish & Mennonite; Christian Romance; Clean & Wholesome Romance

Synopsis

With the latest book in her Infamous Amish series, Patricia Johns crafts an uplifting, sensitive story about a young woman striving to reclaim the promise of love and community after losing her memory in an accident. As she navigates her old life where everything is unfamiliar, can she rediscover her guiding faith and reconnect with the steadfast young man to whom she is engaged and build a hopeful future?
 

When the peaceful Amish community of Bountiful, Pennsylvania, is rocked by scandal, the three Yoder siblings must each find their path to love, family, and forgiveness…
 
Waking in the hospital after a car accident, Lovina Yoder doesn’t remember the Amish family who claim her as their own—or the man who says he’s her fiancé. Thoughtful and handsome, Johannes Miller clearly cares for her, and Lovina longs to recall the walks and buggy rides he describes, and the plans they once made. Life in the Amish community seems full of joy, faith, and warmth. And yet, Lovina senses there is something more in her past, just beyond her grasp…
 

Release date: March 29, 2022

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

Lovina lay in her bed in the little Amish house, a crisp white sheet and a light blue and white quilt on top of her. A ray of sunlight slanted across her legs, and she poked a foot out from under the covers to feel the warmth against her skin. From down the hallway she could hear the clank of a pot against the woodstove.

Waking up in this one-story house was so different from waking up in the hospital. A week ago, everything hurt and she was frightened and confused. There were always different nurses and clinical doctors clicking their pens and pursing their lips as they asked her the same questions over and over again.

Do you know what year this is?

Who’s the president right now?

Where do you live?

The hospital staff had been considerate and did their best to make her feel comfortable. She’d enjoyed the company of the one nurse who always brought her treats, too. But when this Amish family had arrived at the hospital, she’d learned another thing about herself: she could speak and understand Pennsylvania Dutch. And they seemed to have convinced the hospital staff that she belonged with them, because they’d dressed her in a simple Amish dress, complete with kapp and apron, and she’d gone home with these strangers in a bouncing, rocking buggy, listening to them go on about how happy they were to find her and how worried they’d been.

Apparently, she was loved. And Amish.

But she couldn’t verify any of that from memory.

The bedroom was getting hot, and Lovina pushed back the light covers and sat up. Her hair was tangled, and she looked around the room to find a comb waiting for her on the dresser. Elizabeth—the woman who said she was her sister—had shared this room with her last night, but no one had woken her up this morning. She combed her golden hair, and when she ambled over to the closet, she found several dresses hanging there in an array of colors—blue, pink, purple, teal ... A couple of them were smaller—her size—so they were her clothes, presumably. Lovina chose one and looked at the dress and the box of pins on the dresser.

“Do I know how to do this?” she murmured.

She took off the cotton nightgown and slipped into the dress. The pinholes at the waist were at the right place, and her fingers seemed to know the work of pinning the fabric in place. From somewhere else in the house she heard a baby’s wail and a woman’s soothing tones.

The bedroom door opened and Elizabeth poked her head in.

“You’re up!” she said with a smile. “How does it feel to be back in your own clothes?”

“So this is my dress?” Lovina asked. “It seemed like it would fit.”

“Yah, it’s your dress,” Elizabeth replied. “Did you sleep well?”

“I think so.”

“Has anything come back to you?” Elizabeth’s expression froze as she spoke.

“No, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she replied. “That’s not your fault. But you must be hungry, and we’ve been keeping some breakfast warm for you. It’s oatmeal with fresh blueberries—your favorite.”

Was it her favorite breakfast? Somehow, she had a memory of something different—an English muffin with sausage, scrambled egg, and a slice of processed cheese inside. Did that sound right? She couldn’t think of a name for it—but she knew the scent. In her mind there was a little packet of catsup that went with it ... a brown napkin on the side. And it was on a plastic tray. Fast food?

“Are you okay?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’m fine.” Lovina forced a smile. “I am hungry, though.”

“Good—an appetite is an excellent sign!” Elizabeth replied. “Come on, then—”

An excellent sign of what? Everyone had been congratulating her every time she ate, as if it were a lifesaving occupation, but she had a feeling these people were just choosing optimism. Because she still couldn’t remember anything that would identify who she was or where she belonged. All she’d done so far was wake up and get dressed, but she did feel better for being in some clothes.

“Are you going to put your hair up?” Elizabeth asked.

She looked at herself in the mirror—her blonde hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. She liked it down. It was pretty. It was also shorter than Elizabeth’s hair. She’d noticed that last night when Elizabeth had let her hair down to comb it. Elizabeth’s hair went all the way down to her waist, while Lovina’s was just past her shoulders.

“Do I do that?” Lovina asked.

“Yah, we all put our hair up,” Elizabeth said, giving her a funny look. “It’s modesty. Our hair is for our husbands.”

“Oh . . .” Lovina ran her fingers through her hair and then gathered it at the back of her head.

“Let me help you,” Elizabeth said, and she picked up the comb and took over in twisting her hair up into a small bun at the back of her head. “It’ll be easier when it grows longer.”

“But why isn’t my hair longer?” Lovina asked.

“You cut it.” Elizabeth passed her a fresh kapp, and Lovina put it on.

That was a simple enough explanation, but she sensed some reticence in her sister’s reply. She was holding something back. Lovina looked at their reflection, their faces side by side in the mirror. She couldn’t see a family resemblance. Elizabeth was tall and lithe. Lovina was short and slim. Elizabeth had rich brown hair in contrast with Lovina’s pale, fair tresses.

“Come on,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s get some breakfast into you.”

Lovina followed Elizabeth down the hallway toward the kitchen. She could smell the aroma of cooking—the yeasty scent of rising bread and the lingering smell of oatmeal and eggs.

“You’re up!” Bethany said as they came into the room. She had a baby on her hip, and she smiled at the sight of Lovina. “You look like you had a good sleep. Did it help?”

“Not really,” Lovina replied. Because she knew what Bethany was asking—it was the same thing Elizabeth had asked.

Bethany’s gaze flickered toward Elizabeth, and they exchanged a look.

“Well, have a seat,” Bethany said. “And would you hold Mo?”

Without waiting for any reply, Bethany tipped the baby into Lovina’s arms, and she looked down at the surprised face of the tiny boy. He blinked at her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re cute, aren’t you?” Lovina said, and she adjusted him in her arms, then she looked over to Bethany, who had returned to the stove to dish up oatmeal. “What’s ‘Mo’ short for?”

“Moses,” she replied. “Isaiah and I thought he needed a strong name ... he’ll need it.”

Bethany turned away again, and Lovina looked down at the baby in her arms. He was very sweet, but she didn’t feel any tickle of recognition when she looked at him.

“Why?” Lovina asked.

“Why what?” Bethany asked.

“Why does he need a strong name?” Lovina asked.

Bethany regarded her for a moment, then pink tinged her cheeks.

“We don’t talk about that,” Elizabeth said quickly.

“Oh—” Lovina let out a breath. Would she remember all of this later?

“It’s because Isaiah isn’t Mo’s daet,” Bethany said after a beat of silence, and she cast Elizabeth a helpless look. “Lizzie, she’s family.” Then she turned back to Lovina, her cheeks blooming pinker. “I was pregnant already when your brother and I started courting. I had been engaged before, and my fiancé left our faith. He’s . . . out there somewhere.” She gestured vaguely toward the window. “Mo’s father’s name is Micah. He comes to visit from time to time, so things will be complicated for Mo as he grows up. Isaiah will be the daet who raises him, but everyone will know the truth.”

“I’m sorry . . .” Lovina felt her face heat. “That’s . . . awful.”

“It’s life,” Bethany replied, meeting her gaze evenly.

“It shows what grief comes of leaving the faith,” Elizabeth added. “Our family has learned that lesson the hard way.”

“And it also shows you what kind of man your brother is,” Bethany said quickly, and she shot Elizabeth a warning look. “I thank Gott every day that he’s my husband.”

Lovina dropped her gaze to the baby in her arms, uncomfortable. Why did she feel like she was being preached at here? Mo shoved a fist into his mouth and blinked up at her with wide brown eyes, and Lovina touched his nose with the tip of her finger. He smiled.

“Speaking of husbands,” Bethany said, changing the subject brightly, “Elizabeth, we should work on your wedding quilt today. We’ll have to sew fast to get it done in time, but if we get enough women working on it, I think we’ll manage it!”

Bethany brought a bowl of oatmeal to the table. A dish of fresh blueberries sat within reach, and a pitcher of thick, creamy milk was next to it.

“Oh, and sugar—” Elizabeth brought a bowl of brown sugar to the table and then held out her hands for the baby. “Come here, bobily.”

Lovina handed the baby over and sat down at the sturdy wooden table. She licked her lips and glanced up hesitantly.

“I can’t believe it’s happening!” Elizabeth said, sliding into another chair at the table. “I’m marrying him!”

“And you’ll be happy,” Bethany said. “That man loves you.”

Lovina watched the two women silently.

“Why don’t you say grace, Lovina?” Bethany suggested.

Lovina was about to refuse. She hadn’t said any prayers over food since she woke up in the hospital, but the casual way the request was made seemed to loosen some words that floated to the surface inside of her. She bowed her head, her eyes open.

“For this food You have blessed us with, we thank you, Lord,” Lovina said.

“Amen,” Elizabeth said, and her eyes misted. “Oh, Lovina, I’ve missed you.”

The way Elizabeth said it, it was like she’d been gone for years. It had only been a week or so . . . hadn’t it?

“How long was I gone?” Lovina reached for the blueberries and sugar, adding them to the top of her oatmeal.

“Oh . . . it felt like forever,” Elizabeth said. “That’s all.”

They’d missed her, and there was a certain comfort in knowing that while she didn’t remember them, they not only remembered her but they’d missed her.

“If I remember how to pray, it must be coming back,” Lovina said.

“Yah, I would say so,” Elizabeth agreed, and she smiled brightly. “Gott is answering our prayers.”

Once Lovina started eating, her appetite came back in full force. The blueberries mingled with creamy milk, and Lovina accepted a fresh piece of buttered toast that Bethany brought to the table.

Elizabeth and Bethany both sat down.

“You should help us with the quilt,” Bethany said, and she reached for her baby boy, pulling him into her arms and kissing his plump cheek. “They say that sometimes familiar activities can help to bring back memories. And we’ll need all the hands we can get to finish it on time.”

“Do I know how?” Lovina asked, swallowing.

“We all know how,” Elizabeth replied with a rueful smile. “And this one is special. It will be on the bed I share with Solomon after we’re married. It wouldn’t feel right to start my home without a wedding quilt.”

Lovina smiled faintly. “Congratulations. I should have said that before.”

“Thank you.”

“It sounds like you’ll be very happy,” Lovina said. Elizabeth looked happy, at least. She had a dewy, glowing look about her.

“Do you remember being engaged?” Elizabeth asked, leaning forward.

Lovina slowed in her chewing, her pulse speeding up. She met her sister’s gaze.

“Me?” she asked past the food in her mouth.

“Do you?” Elizabeth pressed.

Lovina searched inside of herself for a memory of a man. She shook her head.

“You’ve got a man who loves you,” Elizabeth said. “And you were planning on marrying him.”

Lovina swallowed with difficulty, and her eyes flicked between the two women. They were both looking at her with such hope in their eyes that she felt a wave of guilt at disappointing them, but she had to be honest.

“I don’t remember him,” she said.

“His name is Johannes Miller, and he’s a good man,” Elizabeth said. “He’s handsome, and sweet, and he just thinks the world of you.”

This new information swirled around in Lovina’s mind, looking for a place to land, but there was none. It didn’t feel right. But then, none of this felt right! It was beautiful and appealing, and she wanted to believe that this was her life, but there was something about all of it that felt like it was being draped on top of her. Like a sheet. Like a lie.

“The man from last night,” Lovina said. “The one who came to see me. Is that him?”

He hadn’t said much, and his chin had trembled when he took her hand in a brief handshake.

“Yah, that’s him,” Bethany replied. “He’s a good man. He farms with his daet, and he’s very respected in our community. He’s honest, hardworking, kind, faithful—he’s a good man, Lovina.”

Good or not, he was a stranger.

“I’m supposed to marry someone I don’t remember?” Lovina asked, her voice choked.

“No!” Elizabeth shook her head. “Of course not! In fact, I think we can assume the wedding is off until you do remember. That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. Marriage is too serious for that. I just thought you might like to know that you have a life here—a really beautiful life.”

“And you’ll remember it, eventually,” Bethany said

“That’s what the doctor said,” Elizabeth added.

These two women in their neat Amish clothes both looked a little too hopeful, a little too eager, finishing each other’s thoughts and hovering around her as if they were afraid she’d run off.

Were they afraid she’d run off? Lovina glanced toward the door, and she felt a momentary urge to do just that—to stand up and walk out that door, and put all of this safety, security, and sweetness behind her.

But this is my family, she told herself. These are the people I came from.

She just didn’t remember any of them.

Johannes rinsed the last of the breakfast dishes and put them in a rack to drip-dry. He was used to doing the kitchen work—he and his father traded off on house chores, since their home ordinarily didn’t have any women in it.

Except for right now, when their home seemed to be brimming with femininity . . . although it was only temporarily. Sovilla Miller was out in the garden pulling up the tomato and pea plants that had already given their last produce for the year and tossing them into a wheelbarrow. She was from a different branch of Millers, no blood relation to Johannes’s family. It was a very popular Amish last name. She wore a pair of gardening gloves, and her work apron was already streaked with dirt. Her two young daughters, Becca, who was four, and Iris, who was two, were sitting in the dirt next to their mother, “helping.” The three of them had been here for two weeks now, and the girls filled the house with laughter and joking, and Sovilla’s cooking and cheerfulness had brightened up their ordinarily quiet house like a ray of sunlight.

Sovilla was an attractive woman—slim, with a pretty face and sympathetic eyes. He liked her eyes, and she had a low way of talking that was soothing, too. The community wasn’t wrong when they said that she’d make him an excellent wife. Unfortunately, Johannes had ruined the possibility of an arranged marriage between them because he’d been unable to hide his tangled, messy feelings for Lovina Yoder. That hadn’t been smart on his part.

Johannes glanced over to the table where his nephew, Daniel, sat munching on some bread and sweetened peanut butter. At the opposite end of the table, his father, Bernard, was re-lacing a boot.

“Are you done with that plate?” Johannes asked.

Daniel shoved the last of the bread into his mouth and brought the plate over to the sink. Johannes dunked it in the water and washed it off.

Sovilla had been the one to call the engagement off, and he didn’t blame her. What woman wanted to marry a man who was hopelessly in love with someone else? Outside the window, Sovilla pushed herself to her feet and brushed off her hands. She said something to her older daughter, who ran over to grab a bucket.

Johannes had never been book smart, but he’d comforted himself with the thought that he was good on his feet. Right now, looking at the ready-made family he was giving up, he had to question even that. Because even after breaking it off, Sovilla was still managing to be a bright spot in their home. She was a good woman, and he wasn’t trying to convince her to stay.

Later on this afternoon, Sovilla was going to spend some time with an elderly couple, and when that happened, the Miller farm would be back to being an exclusively male domain. Daniel’s mamm—Johannes’s sister—had said she wanted Daniel to have some male influence. At least around here, male influence was hard to miss.

“So what are we doing today?” Daniel asked.

Bernard paused to measure the laces he was threading into his boot, then continued pushing the laces through the eyes.

“We’re going to the south field,” Bernard said. “There’s some new calves that need to be taken to the barn.”

“Oh.” Daniel leaned his elbows on the table. “Seems mean to take them away from their mothers so soon.”

“That’s how you keep a cow producing milk,” Bernard replied. “We’re a dairy. Milk is what we do.”

“Still . . .” Daniel’s gaze moved over to Johannes. “Are you going to see your old fiancée, Uncle Johannes?”

“Yah, that’s the plan,” Johannes replied. Keeping secrets from this boy wasn’t easy, either. And the whole situation with Lovina and her lost memory had captured the boy’s imagination.

“Do you think she’ll remember you yet?” Daniel asked.

“Nope. I don’t think she will.” Johannes wrung out the cloth and hung it to dry. He wasn’t getting his hopes up. The way she’d looked at him—like he was a perfect stranger ...

“That might not be so bad,” Daniel said. “My mamm was talking about what happened when your fiancée left last year. I know that she ran off when her daet was put in jail, and she wouldn’t even send a letter to say she was okay. And then all those other young people from around here who did the same thing—jumped the fence because of the preacher who broke the law. Mamm thinks she’s no good. She comes from a bad family, and she jumped the fence, so—”

Johannes shot his nephew a baleful glare, and the thirteen-year-old fell silent.

“Daniel, why don’t you go out and get the eggs,” Bernard said quickly. “I’ll be ready by the time you come back.”

Daniel hesitated, his gaze locked on Johannes. Johannes pulled out some bread to make sandwiches for his father and nephew. They’d need lunch out there in the fields today. He’d be back as soon as he could to help them.

“Uncle Johannes, I didn’t mean to—” Daniel swallowed. “My mamm thought you were over her, is all, and—” He shrugged weakly.

“It’s okay,” Johannes said. “Go on out and get the eggs.”

Daniel grabbed the egg basket and headed for the door. Bernard didn’t speak again until they heard Daniel’s boots on the last step.

“I keep forgetting he’s lived with women only,” Johannes said, giving his daet a small smile. “I think I scared him.”

“He looks up to you,” Bernard said.

“They sure talk about me a lot over there,” Johannes muttered.

“That’s family,” Bernard replied. “A couple of weeks ago, your sisters were all talking about your cousin Solomon.” Bernard cast Johannes a smile. “The point is, now it’s about you and Lovina . . . If you’re family, they talk. And now with sending Sovilla away, there will be plenty more people discussing you, I’m sure. Your life is just more interesting than anyone else’s right now.”

There would be more gossip. His father was right. All Johannes had wanted was a quiet, respectable life. But that was getting harder and harder to achieve.

“Linda wants Daniel to learn from us,” his father went on. “We’re the men in his family, and he’s going to see from us how a man’s responsibilities work. That’s a heavy duty.”

Johannes looked out the window toward the chicken coop. The door was open, and a hen came wandering outside the fenced area.

“He’s losing the chickens,” Johannes said.

Bernard pulled open the side door and called, “Daniel, mind the birds!”

Johannes smiled as Daniel came running out after the runaway hen, catching it in a flutter of feathers before carrying it back inside. Bernard came back to the table and sat down with his boot once more.

“Lovina really didn’t remember anything?” his father asked quietly.

“She shook my hand like I was a complete stranger,” Johannes replied. “She didn’t know any of us. It was like ... It was like she was a shell. That wasn’t the Lovina I knew.”

“Maybe she’ll remember more today,” his father said.

Maybe. That was the hope, wasn’t it? Except that if she remembered, then he’d want answers, and that wasn’t what her family wanted from him, either. He was supposed to be the tender, caring fiancé, bringing her back into the Amish fold. He wasn’t supposed to have any demands of his own. But Lovina did owe him that much, even if no one else wanted him to ask for the explanations he deserved.

Everyone wanted something from Johannes these days. The Yoders wanted him to help Lovina return to the community for good. The bishop wanted Johannes to marry Sovilla. His sister Linda wanted him to show his nephew how to be a man.

But what about what Johannes needed? It wasn’t much, actually—just some respect in the community and a chance to heal. Some explanations from Lovina might help with getting over her at long last. If he was going to be realistic, he had to accept that Lovina had left him once already, and when her memory returned, she’d remember why. He needed to move on from Lovina . . .

Later that morning, as Johannes reined in his horses in front of the Yoder stable, his stomach was in knots. He scanned the house, looking for Lovina. Would she be any better today?

The side door opened and Bethany Yoder poked her head out, the baby on her hip.

“Hello, Johannes!” she called.

“Yah! Hi!” he called back.

Bethany gave him a smile, then disappeared back into the house. Everyone seemed rather excited to get Johannes and Lovina back into each other’s company again, as if it would all be the same. But how could it?

Johannes got down from his buggy, heading around to start unhitching the horses.

Isaiah and Bethany Yoder lived on a small acreage, and Elizabeth was living with her brother and his wife until her marriage to Sol. Johannes glanced toward the fenced field next to the stables. Three quarter horses were already out there, heads down as they grazed. He led his horses by the bridles toward the gate and slapped their sides as they passed him, not really needing any encouragement to go graze. He locked the gate after them and then turned back to look at the house.

Lovina was waiting for him. More precisely, Lovina’s family was waiting for him. And he was supposed to pretend to be the seasoned, steady Amish fiancé still—to t. . .