A midwife and single father have a second chance at the family they've always dreamed of in this heartwarming Amish romance from award-winning author Barbara Cameron. Widow Rebecca Zook adores her work delivering bopplin in her close-knit Amish community, but the young midwife secretly wonders if she'll ever find love again or have a family of her own. When she meets handsome newcomer Samuel Miller, her connection with the widowed single father is immediate-Rebecca even bonds with his sweet little girl. It feels like a perfect match, yet Samuel seems hesitant . . . In Paradise, Lancaster County, Samuel hoped to find the fresh start he and his dochder need . . . and perhaps a second chance for love. He never imagined he'd discover both so quickly and in one lovely, kind woman. But as Samuel falls for Rebecca, he worries that her job will only remind him of his past heartaches. Rebecca isn't willing to sacrifice her beloved calling, but she is ready to embrace the future . . . if only Samuel can open his heart once more.
Release date:
November 10, 2020
Publisher:
Forever
Print pages:
352
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Rebecca Zook held the squirming boppli in her arms and decided nothing could possibly be better than being a midwife and helping to bring new life into the world.
She wrapped a blanket around the boppli and gently placed him in his mudder’s arms. “You have a beautiful sohn.”
“Look at him, David,” Lovina whispered as she ran a finger down her kind’s cheek. “So tiny. So perfect.”
Her mann stroked his sohn’s hair. “Here at last. And both of you safe and sound. Danki, Rebecca.”
Rebecca smiled. “You’re wilkumm.”
An hour later, with the new mudder and kind cleaned up and resting, Rebecca sat to make her notes on the delivery. It had been a long night but a relatively easy one. Lovina had sailed through her first pregnancy and although she’d labored nearly eight hours, she’d done so with few complaints. She’d been a midwife’s dream patient.
Exhausted but relieved, Rebecca said her goodbyes and then left and began the walk home. The temperature had dropped a good ten degrees since she’d been called. A brisk fall wind caught the shawl she wore and fluttered it. Rebecca shivered and glanced up at the gray sky. It looked like rain was coming soon. She prayed she was safely home before then.
She heard the clip-clop of horse hooves as a buggy came to a stop beside her. “Rebecca, can we give you a ride?”
Turning, she stared up at Samuel Miller. Then she glanced toward the back of the buggy where his six-year-old dochder, Lizzie, watched her with an expression that was too serious for a kind.
“Nee, danki,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“It’s going to rain.”
“I should make it home before then.” But just as she said it, a large, cold drop of water hit her face.
“Please, get in, Rebecca,” Samuel told her. “I don’t want you to get soaked and catch a cold.”
“That’s an old fraa’s tale. You don’t catch a cold from getting wet.”
“Rebecca, please?”
She stared up into his eyes and saw the concern there. Resigned, she climbed into the buggy.
“Danki,” she felt compelled to say.
“You are so very wilkumm.” His tone made it clear that he knew she didn’t really want to accept the ride.
As the buggy started to move, Rebecca tried but failed to stifle a huge yawn.
“Long night?”
She nodded.
“You just came from David and Lovina’s haus, didn’t you?”
Lizzie leaned over the seat, eyes bright with excitement. “Did Lovina have her boppli? What did she have?”
Rebecca saw Samuel’s jaw tighten. She turned in her seat to face Lizzie. “She’s very well. Mudder and boppli were sleeping soundly when I left.”
“Lizzie, please sit down properly,” her father said.
He glanced at Rebecca and started to say something, when she saw him freeze. Following the direction of his gaze, she caught sight of the drop of blood on the apron she wore over her dress. When she looked back up at him, the color had drained from his face.
“Lovina is fine,” she said quietly.
“So you said.” He stared straight ahead.
As silence stretched between them, Rebecca studied his profile. He was a handsome man with a long, straight nose and high cheekbones. The tan he’d gotten from farming was fading. He wore a black felt hat that hid his hair, but she knew it was a rich mahogany color.
He glanced over and pinned her with his dark-blue eyes before she could look away. She turned in her seat again to talk to Lizzie and frowned when she saw the kind looking sad as she sat scrunched in a corner of the back seat, holding a doll in her arms.
The buggy came to a stop and Rebecca was relieved to find that they were parked before her home.
“Danki for the ride.”
He nodded in response.
She twisted around to wave at Lizzie. “Bye. See you Sunday at church.”
“Bye,” the little girl said softly.
Rebecca looked at Samuel. “Is she allrecht?”
“Feeling a little under the weather. That’s why I kept her home from schul today. Taking her along on some errands so I don’t have to ask my neighbor to watch her since her family’s just over the flu.”
She got out and looked back inside the buggy. “Hope you feel better, Lizzie.”
“Danki,” she said, sounding forlorn.
As they rode away, Rebecca let herself into her house. The big kitchen felt cold and empty. She always felt a mixture of joy and sadness when she delivered a boppli. While she was happy to help new life come into being, it brought up memories of losing her chance to have a kind. With a tired sigh, she set her bag down and shed her shawl and bonnet. Food, a shower, then bed, in that order.
She fixed herself a sandwich, put the kettle on for a cup of tea, and sank into a chair, almost too tired to eat. But a body couldn’t run on empty, and she never knew when she would be called out again. So she forced herself to take a bite, chew, swallow, then take another bite and another. Her appetite came back quickly and she finished the sandwich, then rose to dig a couple of cookies out of the jar.
A long, hot shower worked the kinks out of her shoulders. She dried herself quickly, pulled off the shower cap, and padded into the bedroom to don a warm flannel nightgown. She grimaced when she glanced in the mirror over her dresser and saw how wan and tired she looked. Sitting on her bed, she brushed out her long blonde hair and braided it. She needed a nap; then she’d see about catching up with some chores.
Exhausted, she stretched out on the bed but found she was unable to sleep. How ironic to run into Samuel Miller when she avoided him as much as possible. Her mind drifted back to the time she’d first met him. He’d moved here from Indiana with his dochder a few months ago. He’d introduced himself to her at church and a few weeks later he’d asked her to go to lunch. They’d chatted easily over the meal and gotten to know each other. Discovering they were both widowed had been an initial bond.
Samuel had told her about growing up in Indiana and recently inheriting his onkel’s farm here in Paradise. He’d visited his onkel a number of times over the years, and when he’d found out about his inheritance, he felt he and his dochder could get a fresh start here.
She told him about growing up here and about her love for her work as a midwife. And that’s when she had felt a distinct chill. He’d driven her home after lunch instead of going for the ride to get to know the area as they’d discussed. Only later did she find out that his fraa and the boppli she carried had died during childbirth.
Ever since then he’d avoided her. She understood but it still hurt.
She’d grown up hearing that God set aside a man for a woman. She’d felt an immediate attraction to Samuel—the first time she’d felt such since her husband, Amos, died—but it was obvious she’d been wrong that he felt the same.
Maybe she wasn’t meant to get married again or have a kind. Maybe she was destined to walk through the rest of her life without love now that Amos was gone.
* * *
Samuel frowned as he guided the buggy back onto the road. Lately it seemed that he kept running into Rebecca.
He’d been so attracted to Rebecca soon after he moved here. He recalled how their gazes had locked across the room where the church service had been held. She had big brown eyes, and while a delicate blush crept up her cheeks as they stared at each other, she hadn’t looked away. She was direct but not flirtatious when he introduced himself.
It wasn’t easy to make the effort to ask her out—it was a new experience, dating, and in his new city as well. But when he finally took her out for lunch, he’d enjoyed her company greatly and had looked forward to spending more time with her during their drive afterward.
Then she mentioned that she was a midwife.
The last thing he needed was a reminder of how he’d lost Ruth.
He knew that Rebecca hadn’t been responsible for Ruth’s death. They’d been in Indiana when his fraa experienced problems with her pregnancy. Two years had passed since that awful night he’d lost her and the tiny boppli they’d both looked forward to so much.
“Daedi?”
He pulled himself from his thoughts. “Ya?”
“I’m hungerich.”
“You said you didn’t want breakfast, remember?”
“I wasn’t hungerich then.”
“But you are now?”
“Ya. Very much.”
Samuel saw Lizzie’s favorite fast-food restaurant just ahead. He was certain she had, too.
“I’m schur I’d feel much better if I had something to eat now.”
“I’m schur,” he said dryly. Perhaps he shouldn’t give in to her but he couldn’t help it. When he pulled into the drive-through lane and put in her order—no need to ask what she wanted since he knew her so well—and a cup of coffee for himself, she stood and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Danki, Daedi!”
“You’re wilkumm,” he told her, trying not to smile. “Now, sit down. You know the rules.”
“Sorry.”
She looked penitent for all of two minutes. He paid for the meal and pulled forward to the next window. When he turned and handed her the bag, her face lit up.
“Happy now?”
“Ya, danki, Daedi!” she cried as she took it from him.
“Don’t spill the juice.”
“I won’t.”
Samuel held the reins in one hand and sipped his coffee as they rode home. Maybe he was being overprotective keeping her home when she said she didn’t feel well. But he couldn’t help it. He’d lost her mudder. He couldn’t lose her.
“Daedi?”
“Ya?”
“Want a bite of my hash brown or my biscuit?”
Samuel smiled. “Nee, lieb. But danki.”
Lizzie seemed to have adjusted to their new life but he still worried about how she missed her mudder. Every kind deserved to have one to love her. He sighed. A man should be able to protect those he loved, and he hadn’t been able to. He’d raged at God at the double loss, had been angry with Him for more than a year.
Finally, it had become too difficult to carry the weight of that anger every day. And when he’d come upon Lizzie sitting in a corner of her room silently rocking her doll, tears running down her cheeks, he knew he had to set aside the anger and the grief and be the dat his daughter needed.
Samuel smiled when he pulled into the driveway and turned to see Lizzie dozing in the back seat. But true to her promise, she hadn’t spilled her drink. She still clutched it in one hand. He got out and leaned in to take it from her hand, set it aside, then lifted her in his arms.
“Daedi,” she murmured, as she smiled sleepily at him.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, and to his relief he found it cool. The slight fever she’d woken with had gone. He carried her into the house and up the stairs to her room. She snuggled into her bed, her arm wrapped around her doll, and slept on. He pulled her quilt up over her and tucked her in securely.
He went back outside to unload the horse feed and the goods he’d picked up in town. Then he unhitched the buggy, led Tom to his stall, and took care of some repairs. When Lizzie came downstairs after a long nap, she looked tired still but was hungry for macaroni and cheese. She didn’t seem to have much energy even after her meal, so she settled down on the sofa with a book. It looked like she might have to stay home from schul another day, he mused.
He went out to the barn to do his afternoon chores and, after a couple of hours of work, was ready for a break and another cup of coffee. While the coffee perked, he rummaged in the refrigerator and decided to make Lizzie’s favorite soup and sandwich for supper. He wasn’t the best of cooks but he was pretty good at making a grilled cheese sandwich. The tomato soup was from a can but she liked it.
The day had been long and it wasn’t over yet. As he settled at the table with a mug of coffee, he wondered how other single eldres managed. Samuel missed being married—missed the companionship and sharing the joys and sorrows of life. He wanted Lizzie to have bruders and schweschders.
He needed a fraa.
Abram, the local bishop, thought so, too, and had been quick to say so not long after Samuel had arrived. Marriage was encouraged in the Amish community and it was believed kinner were a gift from God. Both made for a strong, stable community.
And he wanted them both so much. But needing and wanting…well, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for a new fraa. It was a big step to open his heart, to love again.
Lizzie wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Hi, Daedi.”
“Hi, Lizzie.”
She climbed up into his lap and snuggled. He smiled as he held her. She was growing up so fast. How much longer would she want to be held like this?
“Can we go see Lovina’s boppli?”
Surprised, he leaned back and stared at her. “You want to see her boppli?”
She nodded.
“Not for a couple of days, Dizzy Lizzie.”
She grinned at the nickname. “Not Dizzy.”
“Nee?”
“Nee,” she told him positively. “Daedi, I’m hungerich.”
“Again?”
Lizzie nodded vigorously.
He pretended to sigh. “Let me see if we have any food, little piggy.”
She slid off his lap and ran around the kitchen snorting like a piglet.
Samuel rose and began preparing supper. He got the ingredients out for sandwiches and soup. Schur enough, Lizzie was delighted with his choice for the meal. When they’d finished eating, she settled at the table with paper and crayons and chattered happily with him as he washed the dishes. Sometimes he wondered when she’d stop talking so much, but when he remembered how silent she’d been for too many months after Ruth died, he wasn’t going to try to quell her.
After a bath with lots of bubbles and a bedtime story, she was sleepy again. Before he reached the last page, she fell asleep and the house was quiet.
Samuel went out for a last check of the horses in the barn. Usually this chore relaxed him, but as he walked past his buggy, he thought about his unintended encounter with Rebecca earlier that day. He found himself wondering what she was doing. He had his work with his new farm and the company of his kind during waking hours, and he was forming new friendships. Rebecca had her work and her family and friends. But when the end of the day came, did she feel lonely for her late mann? Did she ever think about getting married again like he did now?
He frowned. Why was he thinking about her? He told himself that there were a number of available maedels here in Lancaster County. Some had already introduced themselves to him and Lizzie. They’d brought casseroles just as the maedels had done back in Indiana. Surely there was another maedel who would catch his eye, spark his interest.
Schur, he’d felt such an attraction to Rebecca with her warm brown eyes and sweet smile, her slender, graceful figure.
But nee, he wouldn’t think about her.
He felt so mixed up inside. He’d had such a strong attraction to Rebecca, but with her being a midwife, she just brought up how he’d lost his beloved Ruth, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever get past that.
He needed to move forward—really move forward.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about Rebecca Zook.
Chapter Two
Rebecca was almost late for church.
As she’d raced around doing chores, she’d broken a bootlace feeding the chickens and had to find another, then discovered she needed to change her dress because she spilled coffee on it.
She was lucky that her house was so close to the Stoltzfus home where the service was being held.
“You made it!” Annie exclaimed as she moved over on the wooden bench. “You’ll have to tell me all about it after church.”
Rebecca sank down onto the hard bench a few rows from the back of the room. Her mudder glanced back to where she sat and nodded her approval that Rebecca had made it. She and Rebecca’s schweschder, Katie Ann, sat at the front of the room. Rebecca’s bruders sat on the other side of the room with the men.
Rebecca relaxed and enjoyed sitting down for the first time in six hours. “Nudge me if I start to drift off,” she whispered to Annie.
“I will.”
She’d barely had a chance to settle when she began feeling a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Someone was staring at her. She glanced over and saw Samuel looking at her. When he realized she’d caught him staring, he frowned and looked away. Rebecca sighed. She just didn’t understand the man.
Determinedly she focused on Elmer, the lay minister. He hadn’t been a minister for long and had a wonderful enthusiasm, but her sleepless night was catching up with her. Annie elbowed her twice as she started to fall asleep. Rebecca was grateful when the congregation stood for a hymn. She hoped she hid her yawn, but when she gave Samuel a furtive glance, she saw him grin at her.
Now it was her turn to frown and look away and lift her voice in song. If only she could banish the last of the cobwebs of exhaustion from her mind. When the service ended, she felt relief. At least she didn’t have to worry now that she’d nod off and be embarrassed.
“Coffee,” Annie said firmly. “Stay here and I’ll get some for both of us.”
“I won’t argue.”
“Rebecca! Guder mariye! Someone wants to say hello.”
She turned to see Lovina carrying her new boppli. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“I sat in the back in case Johnny fussed. But he slept through most of the service.”
Rebecca’s heart melted at the sight of the infant blinking owlishly up at them.
Lizzie bounced up to them, clutching her doll. “Lovina, can I see the boppli?”
“May I?” her dat corrected as he came to stand behind her.
“Can Daedi see it, too?” she responded with a big grin.
“Lizzie!” he chided her.
She giggled. “May I?”
Lovina sat down on the bench so Lizzie could get a better look.
“Daedi, he’s so little!” Lizzie breathed.
He chuckled. “Bopplin are.”
“Was I that little?”
“You schur were.” He smiled at her.
Rebecca watched Samuel’s smile fade and become sad as he watched his dochder admire the boppli and chatter with Lovina.
Annie returned with a cup of coffee for her. “Maybe this will help you stay awake.” She set the cup down beside Rebecca and smiled as she held out a plate with a slice of bread with church spread of peanut butter and marshmallow creme. “And a little snack to tide you over.”
“Danki.”
“I’m going to help wash some dishes,” Annie told her.
“I should, too.”
“You’re exhausted. Sit, eat, drink your coffee.” Annie hurried off.
“Another late night?” Samuel asked her when she covered a yawn with her hand.
She nodded. “Lillian and Isaac King are the proud eldres of a sohn. Seven pounds, seven ounces. I almost missed church.”
“So that’s why you were having such trouble staying awake.”
Horrified, she stared at him. “Oh, I hope no one else noticed!”
“I don’t think so.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I haven’t been here long but it does seem like Elmer loves parables.”
“He always did love a gut story—a gut, long story. I attended schul with him.” She struggled to hide a yawn again.
“Let’s hope you can get some sleep before another boppli needs your help coming into the world.”
David walked up and said hello to Rebecca and Samuel before turning to his fraa. “Lovina, I’m going to get the buggy.”
“Gut. I’ll meet you out front.”
Rebecca held out her arms. “I can hold him while you go get your jacket.”
“Danki.” Lovina stood and transferred the boppli into Rebecca’s arms. “Be right back.”
“That coffee looks gut,” Samuel said abruptly. “Lizzie, come with me and we’ll get you a snack.”
“I’m not hungerich. May I stay here with Rebecca and Johnny?”
“She’ll be fine here with us,” Rebecca told him.
“Allrecht. Shall I get you more coffee?”
“Nee, danki. I’m fine. If I have too much, I won’t be able to sleep when I get home.”
Rebecca watched him walk away. Almost immediately he was approached by Sarah Fisher, who flirted shamelessly as she chatted with him. Rebecca wasn’t surprised. Samuel was handsome and single and he owned a nice-sized farm.
Well, it didn’t matter what Sarah or any of the other maedels did. She wasn’t interested in Samuel. Well, she might have been, but he’d made it clear he was no longer interested in her.
“Rebecca? May I have some of your bread?” Lizzie asked.
“Schur. But I thought you weren’t hungerich.”
Lizzie picked up the slice of bread, tore it into two pieces, and set one on the plate. “I wasn’t then. I am now.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I just wanted to stay here with you and the boppli,” she admitted as she sw. . .
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