The Amish Quiltmaker's Unattached Neighbor

Book 6: Amish Quiltmaker

by Jennifer Beckstrand

Genres: Amish & Mennonite; Christian Romance

Synopsis

Irrepressible Colorado Amish quiltmaker Esther Kiem is delighted to help the four Yoder sisters stitch together their beloved great-grandmother’s birthday quilt…especially when it means putting her matchmaking talents to use!

Infused with her signature humor and heart, award-winning, USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Beckstrand blends quilting, mischief, and matchmaking for the sixth Amish Quiltmaker romance – perfect for fans of Amy Clipston, Wanda Brunstetter, and Linda Byler.

At thirty-two, Ada Yoder is resigned to caring for her three sisters, her ever-impractical father, and their prosperous, but demanding, farm. The last kind of trouble she needs is Enos Hoover claiming that six acres of their land actually belongs to him—and taking steps to prove it. But Ada soon finds that battling Enos' clever strategies is delightfully intriguing—and lighting an impossible spark . . .

Enos is determined to make his mater proud by turning difficult acreage into a successful farm. Legally, he is in the right to reclaim the land from the Yoders. But Ada's hard-working stubbornness and refreshing honesty are proving to be more of an irresistible challenge than an obstacle. Now, can Enos and Ada find enough faith and understanding to reconcile family, duty, and love—and stake their claim on a forever happiness together?

Sometimes the greatest blessings come in disguise . . .

Release date: November 26, 2024

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

Ada Yoder stood alone in the field, her hand clutching a copy of A Guide to Your New Pivot Irrigation System, her bonnet ties flapping in the wind, and big, fat tears rolling down her face. She wasn’t crying because the pivot irrigation system owner’s manual was incredibly boring or because the weather was chilly or because she’d just sliced her finger trying to tighten a bolt on one of the gear boxes.

Ada almost never cried. Her tears were as rare as whiskers on a newborn baby. The last time she remembered crying was when Mamm died, almost five years ago, and she’d barely let herself cry even then because there had been sisters to comfort and bed linens to wash and burial arrangements to make. That had been an appropriate time to cry. It certainly wasn’t appropriate or sensible to cry now.

She wasn’t even crying that the farm needed a new irrigation system, and the cost was more than a whole year’s worth of income. The tears weren’t because of the heavy weight of being in charge of the household or carrying the load of the farm. But would it kill her schwester Beth to milk the goats just once without being asked? Was it too much to expect Dat to open his mail instead of throwing all the bills in a heap on his nightstand? Nae, Ada never cried over such trivial things. She liked being useful to her family, and Beth’s laziness made Ada feel all that much better about herself.

Ada scanned the opening paragraph of her owner’s manual and found the sentence that had made the tears spring to her eyes in the first place.

Congratulations, it said, you have just purchased the most exciting and innovative pivot irrigation system in the world.

A stiff wind had caught her upside the head and made her realize that her life was even less exciting than a thirty-year-old pivot irrigation system owner’s manual. The owner’s manual had colored pictures, diagrams, lists, and bold fonts. Ada had clean toilets, three pairs of shoes, and a shotgun she’d never fired. She had a fater who was rarely home, a sister who took her for granted, and a farm that demanded every hour of her life and gave back nothing in return. The land certainly didn’t love her or appreciate what she did for it.

Feeling wildly ungrateful, Ada sniffed back more tears. Gotte had been good to her, even though He’d taken Mamm and left Ada to care for her schwesteren. She had a kind, if scatterbrained fater, four adorable goats, and a tidy house. It was a wonderful life.

It was also a wonderfully boring life, no more exciting or interesting than a dog-eared owner’s manual. Even more pathetic was that she was crying about it. Who cried over an owner’s manual?

Pepper, Dat’s border collie, ran past Ada, chasing some sort of critter that eventually disappeared down a hole, yipping all the way. Pepper sniffed at the hole for a few seconds, perked up his ears, and barked twice before loping in the opposite direction on the hunt for another prairie dog or bushy-tailed rat. Pepper seemed never to tire, and he certainly didn’t complain or whine about his life. Then again, Pepper’s life was much more exciting than Ada’s. He routinely chased coyotes and protected small children from danger. Of course he didn’t complain.

Ada slapped the tears from her face and refused to indulge in more self-pity. She didn’t believe in self-pity. She believed in hard work, sparkling white sheets, and common sense. Ada Yoder did not cry over things like owner’s manuals and her dull existence. Last night her schwesteren Mary and Joanna had both announced that they were expecting babies, and surely, thinking about the gute news had moved Ada to tears. For sure and certain that was the reason she’d suddenly disintegrated into a puddle in the middle of the field.

She stuffed the more-exciting-than-her-life owner’s manual into a compartment in the tool belt she wore around her waist and gingerly climbed the last leg of the irrigation system like a ladder. Balanced on the pole and holding tight, she pulled a tube of grease from her tool belt and applied it to the bolts that connected the linkage arms. Greasing all the moving parts was maintenance Ada had been in charge of for years. Dat didn’t like heights, and Ada was agile and fast and didn’t mind climbing things. She hooked her arm around the pole, put the lid back on the tube, and slid it into her tool belt.

Down on the ground, Pepper suddenly broke into a run, barking and carrying on as if he sensed a threat lurking nearby. Ada’s gaze traveled toward the weathered wood fence that separated the Yoder property from the neighbor’s. A tall Amish man stood on the other side of the fence looking her way. How long had he been there, and why was he staring at her?

Ada wasn’t one to spook easily, but her heart lurched, her foot slipped, and she lost her hold. She heard a loud rip as she fell backward, and for one fleeting moment, her only thought was irritation that she’d have to mend her dress. Thank Derr Herr she had quick reflexes. She shot out her hand and caught hold of the vertical pole. Her left shin met the pole she’d been standing on, sending a stabbing pain up her leg, but at least she hadn’t fallen clear to the ground. A bruise was better than a broken arm or severed artery.

She heard shouting and turned to see the suspicious man struggling toward her as swiftly as possible, slowed down by a pronounced limp. Pepper chased after him, barking and snapping at his heels but never getting close enough to bite. Pepper was probably waiting to see what the man would do before passing judgment and clamping his teeth onto his leg.

Ada tightened both hands around the vertical pole. Her right leg dangled in the air, and her hem was caught on the pole over her head, which meant that the front of her dress was up around her ears. The good news was that it was a cold day, and she’d worn a pair of sweatpants under her dress to keep her legs warm. She’d never been more grateful for chilly weather in her whole life.

“Are you okay? How can I help?” Sneaky Man had finally reached the bottom of the irrigation system leg, his hands stretching into the air, a mildly curious look on his face. Pepper redirected his barks at Ada, who obviously looked like she needed more encouragement than the stranger standing on solid ground.

Ada had to admit Sneaky Man looked more concerned than menacing, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him for startling her. “Do you often creep around other people’s property spying on their personal business?”

His left eye twitched slightly. “Do you want help getting down?”

“Nae, denki. I’m perfectly capable.” She wasn’t that far from the ground, and she certainly didn’t want more humiliation heaped on her head.

Sneaky Man frowned, pinned her with a skeptical look, and lowered his arms. “For sure and certain you are perfectly capable,” he said, though it was obvious he didn’t believe it for a second.

With one arm hooked around the pole, Ada yanked at her skirt, but it didn’t budge. She wasn’t quite sure what it was caught on, but she couldn’t pull it loose. She’d either have to climb back up and work the fabric off whatever it was stuck on or take her dress off and leave it behind.

Climb back up it was.

“Here, look,” he said, the slightest tinge of irritation in his voice. “Just let me help you. You’re bleeding, and I don’t want to be responsible if you fall backward and get a severe head injury.”

“I release you of any responsibility.”

“Now you’re just being stubborn.”

“Now you’re just making a pest of yourself,” Ada said. Nothing made her blood boil like a man who couldn’t take a hint. Would Pepper bite him if she told him to?

She braced both feet on the pole beneath her, then grabbed the pole above her head. Even though her shin stung something wonderful, she pulled herself to standing. Sneaky Man was right. She was bleeding. She felt the blood trickle down her leg and into her shoe.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “I’ll stand right here to catch you when you fall.”

She glanced back at him. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

“Oh, ye of great pigheadedness.”

Ada glared at him. “Isn’t that just like a man. You can’t make me do what you want so you attack my character.”

He didn’t back off like she’d expected him to. “Isn’t it just like a woman. You’re angry so you refuse to listen to common sense.”

Ada pressed her lips tightly together. She wasn’t used to being rebuked like that. Sneaky Man was bold, disrespectful, and wildly aggravating. But it was kind of exhilarating trying to put him in his place. Their conversation had been anything but boring.

Ada’s dress was caught on the bolt that held one of the leg poles in place, with a tear several inches long parallel to the hemline. She wasn’t happy about the rip, but her dress had probably stopped her from falling to the ground. She worked the frayed fabric away from the bolt, smoothed down her dress so it again fell nearly to her ankles, and gingerly lowered herself to the ground. Sneaky Man stepped back to give her room. He really had been standing too close, ready to catch her if she fell. And he accused her of being stubborn!

He didn’t congratulate her for saving herself. She hadn’t expected him to. No doubt he was irritated that she hadn’t let him rescue her or that she had been right and he had been wrong.

Ada studied Sneaky Man out of the corner of her eye while she brushed her hands down her skirt and adjusted her tool belt. He had a muscular build, and he was taller than average height, but not impractically tall like Mary’s husband, Clay. Sneaky Man was definitely Amish, wearing a typical straw hat, black coat, and thick suspenders. He didn’t have a beard, which meant he was unmarried, but Ada judged him to be in his thirties. A bachelor? He had an honest face with a strong jaw, cool brown eyes, and a tiny scar at the corner of his mouth. He was certainly handsome, but handsome men didn’t impress Ada all that much. What she really liked was a man who didn’t try to rescue her when she didn’t want to be rescued and didn’t think he was right all the time. “So,” she said, “why were you spying on me?”

“I wasn’t spying.”

“Yes, you were. You startled me, and that’s why I slipped.”

“You can’t blame me for that. You shouldn’t have been up there in the first place. Your husband should be braving the cold and climbing ladders, not you. Where is he? I can’t respect a man who leaves such dangerous work for his fraa.”

Well, hadn’t Sneaky Man made a whole bucketful of assumptions! Ada nearly choked on her reply. She had been feeling a little picked on. Mary and Joanna had husbands who would gladly climb roofs and haymows or ford raging rivers if their wives asked them to. Ada had no one.

And that was the way she liked it.

Besides, it was none of Sneaky Man’s business. “Who are you to judge my husband? You don’t even know him.”

“I know he hasn’t replied to the five letters I’ve sent him in the last four weeks. Is he lazy or dumm or too much of a coward to confront me?”

Ada clenched her teeth. Sneaky Man was brutally honest, but there was no call to speak like that about Ada’s fictional husband. She jabbed her finger in Sneaky Man’s direction. “Let me tell you something about my husband.” She cleared her throat. There really was no reason to defend a fake person, no matter how rude Sneaky Man was or how badly she wanted to put him in his place. She blew a puff of air from between her lips. “He doesn’t exist.”

Sneaky Man’s horrified expression was worth five bruised shins. “He’s . . . he’s dead? I apologize. That was very wrong of me. I’m sure you’re doing the best you can . . . I shouldn’t have . . . Can’t the gmayna help you?”

Ada couldn’t help the laughter that burst from her mouth like the contents of an exploding soda can. The sheepish look on his face was very satisfying, especially since he’d been so rude. “Don’t hurt yourself, for goodness’ sake. The truth is, I’ve never been married. You were just going on and on. I had to stop you.”

“You could have said something sooner.”

Her lips twitched upward. “That wouldn’t have been any fun.”

“What’s so fun about making me think you had a husband?”

“I never made you think that. You just assumed. It was fun to watch you dig a deeper and deeper hole.”

He didn’t seem amused, and he certainly didn’t seem to like Ada’s mirth at his expense. “So who have I been sending letters to?” He pointed toward the house. “His name is Mervin Yoder.”

“My fater.” Ada caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “He’s always been a little slow opening his mail. Why have you been sending him letters?”

His eyebrows inched together. “It’s a matter between men.”

Ada nearly choked on her own spit. “Oh, sis yuscht! You’re one of those men.”

“One of what men?”

“One of those men who thinks a woman, especially an unmarried woman, doesn’t have a brain in her head.”

A small muscle in his cheek bounced up and down. “Oh, sis yuscht! You’re one of those women.”

She glared at him with all the ice and fire she could muster. “Oh, really?”

“You hate men and blame all of your problems on us.”

Ada could appreciate his firmness of mind, even if she couldn’t stomach his point of view. “Well, it certainly makes things easier on you to stuff me into a convenient little box and disregard my opinions.”

He met her glare with a searing one of his own. “Didn’t you just do the same thing to me?”

Ada stiffened. “Nae.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “You said I’m one of those men. Haven’t you also stuffed me into a convenient little box?”

How aggravating that he was right and how irritating that Ada was mature enough to admit it. She softened her expression and scrunched her lips to one side of her face. “I think we’ve both been unjustly stuffed.”

The surprise on his face was evident. “Like a Thanksgiving turkey. It’s very uncomfortable.” He cracked a slight and reluctant smile. “I apologize. You’re right. I shouldn’t make assumptions about you just because you’re a woman.”

“That is very generous of you to admit you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t say I was wrong.” His eyes flashed with amusement, so Ada didn’t feel the need to chastise him.

But she did feel the need to growl, softly. “What I was trying to say is that I’m sorry too. You made me mad. And just so you know, I don’t blame anybody for my problems. I own them and do my best to solve them.”

“So do I,” he said. “I was making assumptions about you simply because you’re a woman. I know it’s unfair, but I’ve had too many bad experiences to believe I could have a rational, unemotional conversation with a woman about water rights and farmland. I was hoping if I spoke with your dat, we could have a talk without all the dramatics.”

Ada did her best to keep her temper in check. He had no tact, but at least he was being honest with her. “I hate to burst your bubble, but you’ll get much further if you talk to me. I make the decisions about the farm. Organization is not my dat’s talent. He likes to plant and plow and shear sheep, then come home, eat dinner, read his newspaper, and go to bed. Though I consult Dat before making financial decisions, I pay all the bills, rent the needed equipment, and keep house.” Ada stopped herself. Was she bragging? Making herself out to be some sort of saint? She was doing neither of those things. It was just the reality of her life.

Sneaky Man looked as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of Ada and her forceful personality. She smiled to herself. She always enjoyed throwing an overconfident man off-kilter.

Ada pulled her mind away from all distractions. She had been vehemently arguing with a perfect stranger, and she didn’t even know his name. “Who are you, why were you spying on me, and what is this rational, unemotional conversation you want to have with my dat?”

“I wasn’t spying.”

“Then what?”

He turned his face toward the fence where she’d first seen him. “I should really talk to your fater.”

Ada threw up her hands. “You are impossible. Didn’t you hear a word I just said?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re proving my point about women being too emotional.”

“You’re proving my point about men thinking women are dumm.”

He huffed out a breath. “In my defense, I saw you crying not fifteen minutes ago.”

Ada’s heart skipped a beat. He’d seen that? “Maybe I had something in my eye.”

“You didn’t have something in your eye.”

“The pivot irrigation system manual bored me to tears.”

That coaxed a small smile from him. “I don’t wonder but it did.” He paused, then pointed toward the fence that separated their properties. “Some of your fence posts are painted purple.”

For sure and certain he was trying to avoid her questions. “It’s my bruder-in-law’s fault. Clay was a famous baseball player, and his fans would come to our farm all the time looking for an autograph. He’s from Indiana where there’s a purple paint law.”

Sneaky Man nodded as if he knew everything. “It’s like putting a NO TRESPASSING sign on your property. We have the same law in Pennsylvania.”

Ada had no patience for a know-it-all. “If you know about the purple paint law, why did you trespass onto our farm?”

He looked at her as she didn’t have a brain in her head. “You were hanging by your dress from your irrigation system. I thought you needed my help.”

“I didn’t.”

“Besides that, Colorado doesn’t have a purple paint law.”

She really hated a know-it-all. “Dat was very irritated because Clay realized there was no purple paint law after he’d painted half the farm purple.” Ada turned her face away to hide a smile. She and Mary had laughed about the purple paint for days. But she wasn’t about to show Sneaky Man anything but a stern face. “Why did you send my dat those letters?”

He studied her face. “If you promise not to cry, I’ll tell you what I’ve been writing letters about.”

“I won’t promise anything, especially if you want to talk water rights. Around here, nobody can have an unemotional conversation about water rights, man or woman.”

“I can understand that. This place is dry as a bone.” Again his gaze traveled to the far side of the fence. “I just bought your neighbor’s farm.”

That was nice. It had been vacant for almost five years. “So far, I don’t feel like crying.”

His expression hardened like stone. “I’ve got all the legal paperwork, the plat map, and the deed. I own six acres of your farm, and I’m going to take what’s rightfully mine.”

Ada stormed into the house, tore off her bonnet, and slammed the door behind her. “Dat,” she yelled. She slid off her coat, untied her shoes, and pulled the left sweatpants leg up and her stocking down. “Dat! Where are you?”

An inch-long gash on her shin was already starting to turn purple, and dried blood caked the front of her leg, but she didn’t have time to clean it or get herself a Band-Aid. As quickly as she could, she hobbled across the kitchen and down the hall to Dat’s bedroom. “Dat!”

He wasn’t in his room. Maybe he’d gone to buy feed for the goats or get his hair cut. He might be visiting Mary, who lived in the house immediately south of their farm.

“Ada, for goodness’ sake, you scared me half out of my wits.” Ada’s little schwester Beth stood in the doorway clutching her cell phone and frowning at Ada as if Ada had just broken every dish in the house. “You came in the house screaming like there was a fire or something.”

Ada wasn’t in the mood to give Beth the time of day, let alone an explanation. “Where’s Dat?”

“Avery Smith needed help with his sheep.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

. . .