More Than Friendship

Book 1: Quilting Circle Novella

by Amy Lillard

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

Synopsis

Love is worth every challenge. Woven deeply into the Amish community of Wells Landing, Oklahoma, a women’s quilting circle is a place to share everything from recipes to hopes and dreams, especially when love is in the air... The youngest member of the quilting circle, Clara Rose Yutzy has her whole life ahead of her. And it’s just beginning, with plans for a wedding to her longtime beau, Thomas Lapp. Everything is falling into place, which is why Clara Rose resolutely ignores her newly warm feelings for her best friend, Obidiah Brennaman. There’s never been a hint of romance between them, and no reason to pay attention to such nonsense now... Steady, sturdy Obie feels differently. He’s never thought too hard about his future, but the news that Clara Rose is about to be married is strangely unsettling. Convincing Clara Rose to take another look at their friendship may not be easy, but Obie is certain God intends for them to be together. He’ll do whatever he must to make Clara Rose see how much he loves her, and with the Lord’s help, before it’s too late... Praise for Amy Lillard “An inspirational story of romance, faith, and trust…will appeal to fans of Wanda Brunstetter and Beverly Lewis.” — Library Journal on Caroline’s Secret “Amy Lillard writes her Amish stories with the respect they are due.” — RT Book Reviews

Release date: March 1, 2016

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 85

Sample

Clara Rose Yutzy pulled the buggy to a stop and set the brake. “She’s a good horse indeed, Mammi.”

Her grandmother smiled. “I got her at the Clarita auction.”

“I know, Mammi. I was with you, remember?” Clara Rose slid from the buggy. Her grossmammi was as sharp as a tack. Of course she remembered. Mammi just wanted the reinforcement that she had gotten an excellent animal when she bought the retired thoroughbred.

“She’s a beauty, huh?” Her mammi got out as well, smiling to herself as she patted the shiny roan on the rear.

“That she is.” Clara Rose slipped her arms out of her black sweater and folded it across her arm. It was warm for early October, but that was the way of Oklahoma. It seemed, come fall or spring, she always carried a sweater whether she thought she would need it or not. The weather was so unpredictable it was certain if she didn’t have one she would most certainly need it.

“It’ll be fun to get started on a new project, jah?” Mammi pulled their basket of materials from behind the buggy seat and hooked it over one arm.

Though she was nearing sixty, Verna Yutzy had a spring in her step and a sparkle in her eye that Clara Rose had forever admired.

Verna attributed her glow of happiness to her longtime marriage to Clara Rose’s grandfather. Abraham Yutzy had gone to his reward the year before, and yet Verna plodded on. Secretly, Clara Rose felt that her grandmother was enjoying life on her own. It was really no matter to her. All she cared about was that her grandmother was happy.

“Do you think Helen and Emily will be here?”

“Maybe,” Mammi replied.

Clara Rose unhitched the horse, even as her gaze searched the yard for Emily Riehl’s familiar buggy. She always enjoyed spending time with her friend. Though they weren’t in the same buddy bunch when they were running around, Wells Landing wasn’t that large, and everyone knew everyone else.

She turned the horse free into the pasture, watching as her grossmammi’s favorite new beast snickered and approached the other horses already there.

“Verna, Clara Rose, come in, come in,” Eileen called from the front porch. “You’re late.”

Verna shook her head. “Five after is not late, Eileen Brenneman. Keep your apron on. We’re coming.”

“You’ve been racing that new horse on the back roads.”

Verna shook her head, but her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Just because she’s a former racehorse doesn’t mean Daisy Lane wants to run any faster than necessary these days.”

Clara Rose hid her smile. Her grandmother’s new buggy horse was a retired racehorse from Tulsa. The owner had donated her to the Clarita School Auction, and her grandmother had snapped the beautiful beast up as quickly as she could. Frankly, Clara Rose thought her grandmother had paid a bit much for the horse, but she knew that Mammi got a secret thrill out of owning a retired racehorse for a buggy horse like some of the folks in Holmes County did.

“I brought sugar cookies,” Clara Rose said as she climbed the porch steps.

“Set them on the table with the rest. We’ll quilt for a while, then we’ll eat.”

Verna led the way into the large room off to one side. The house had been converted from an Englisch house to an Amish house, and the rumor around town was that the room had previously been the owner’s car garage. Now it held several large chairs. After their quilt squares were all complete, they would sew them together, then bring out the quilting frame to finish the job, but that wouldn’t be for a month or so.

Clara Rose slipped into the seat next to her good friend Tess Smiley. Tess gave her a shy smile, then ducked her head. The girl really was the prettiest person Clara Rose had ever seen. Maybe even prettier than Lorie Kauffman. Though these days Clara Rose hardly recognized Lorie when she came to town, not since she turned Englisch.

“This should be fun, jah?” Tess said.

Clara Rose gave a small nod. “I was here last year. It was a lot of fun.”

Their circle was the kind that met year-round, unlike some that only quilted in the wintertime due to the extra summer work of planting, farming, canning, and the like.

Tess gave a small nod. Everyone pulled out their needle and thread and started to work. The twenty-five-block square of beautiful pinks and corals would surely fetch a good price at the school auction next year.

The sewing group had been donating quilts to the Clarita School Auction for as long as Clara Rose could remember. And to be part of such a long-standing group gave her a secret thrill. After every meeting, she had to say a little prayer of forgiveness for her prideful nature in the beautiful quilts that they made.

“How much longer till the wedding?” Fannie Stoll asked.

Was that a bit of jealousy she heard in Fannie’s voice? The poor girl was nearing thirty with no prospects. It had to be hard on Fannie to see all her friends get married, while she was the only one who remained single. There was nothing wrong with Fannie. She was pleasing to the eye and a good cook. So why no man had scooped her up and married her by now was anybody’s guess. Only the Lord knew.

“Six weeks,” Clara Rose said. Her heart gave a little pound at the thought. In six weeks, she would marry Thomas Lapp. She would be Clara Rose Lapp. Marriage was something she had thought about for a long time. Not just the past year while she and Thomas dated nor the past nine months or so since they had announced their engagement to the community. Long before that. Back before she had even met Thomas. She had prayed and prayed for God to send a special man just for her, and He had. Now soon, so very soon, her dream would be a reality. She could hardly wait.

As she stitched, her mind wandered into daydreams. What would it be like when they moved into their own house? Would the garden be on the left or the right-hand side of the house? Would the barn be painted red? She hoped so. She also wanted chickens so she would have fresh eggs every day and a garden plot just for tomatoes because she loved them so much. She would can whatever was left over in the fall, come to quilting circle and make quilts, and she would change her church cape from black to the color of her dress, signifying to everyone that she was now a married woman. That thought thrilled her more than thinking about the upcoming November day when she would pledge her life to Thomas.

The other women began to talk around her, as her mind continued to wander. She could hardly wait to be married. She knew it might seem a little silly to some, a little overly joyous, but all she’d ever wanted to be was somebody’s wife. She looked over to her grandmother, who sat across from her, chatting with Eileen. Her own parents were a sure testament to how to make a marriage work. Most people felt tha. . .