The Love of a Good Amish Woman

Book 3: Joyful River

by Rosalind Lauer

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

Synopsis

An overworked bishop and a resilient widow are a help to nearly everyone in their faith-filled Amish community of Joyful River, Pennsylvania—but what will help them see just how right they can be for each other?



Collette Yoder's path hasn't been easy since her husband abandoned her—and she recovered from a near-fatal injury. But now-widowed, she feels blessed to provide for her children, especially when her new job means helping the also newly widowed Bishop Aaron Troyer straighten out his too-busy life. She simply won't let herself hope too much that their friendship could blossom into much, much more . . .



Aaron Troyer can only thank Gott that he's finally found help. With a thriving congregation and two lively daughters growing up fast, the bishop has more demands on his time than hours in the day. And he's long admired Collette Yoder's quiet courage and ability to find joy in the smallest things—an inspiring example for three visiting Englisch girls. But amid unforeseen trouble and strife, Aaron may realize that his admiration for Collette could lead to a lifetime of joy together . . .

Release date: December 27, 2022

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

As Miriam sliced into a plump, red tomato from the garden, she let the hum of the busy kitchen wash over her like a beautiful song. On this golden August evening when the warm air smelled of honeysuckle and freshly mowed grass, some of Miriam’s family and friends had assembled at their farm home to celebrate two birthdays. Few things delighted Miriam more than having the people she loved gathered around her dinner table.

Happy voices filled the house and yard. The heat of the day and the earlier baking seemed to be trapped in a soggy cloud of humidity, right here in this kitchen, and yet a half-dozen females were gathered in the warm space. Funny how a kitchen was always a magnet to girls and women.

Miriam fanned the disks of dark red tomato over a platter and started slicing another as conversation flowed around her. These dark red gems were ripening in the garden faster than the family could eat them, inspiring Miriam to add a side dish. Tomato sandwiches! Who didn’t love fresh baked bread, mayonnaise, and a sweet, juicy tomato?

Everyone else was outside, enjoying the breeze of the evening. The children had already occupied the picnic tables in a first seating, as there were so many to feed tonight. Not just Miriam and Alvin and their seven offspring, but also daughter Essie’s husband, Harlan Yoder, his mother, Collette, and sister Suzie. There were the Englisch girls, Miriam’s teenaged nieces, who’d lost their mother far too young and had arrived here from Philadelphia a year ago. And no family celebration was complete without Alvin’s mother, Esther, and the family of Alvin’s brother Lloyd and sister-in-law Greta, who ran another branch of the Lapp Dairy just down the road a piece.

The “surprise” addition to the guest list had been Aaron Troyer, the bishop of their church, along with his teenaged daughters, Tess and Amy.

“So the bishop is coming to the birthday dinner?” Alvin had asked earlier in the week as Miriam sat at the kitchen table making a list of the groceries she would need to feed two dozen or so people.

“Yah, along with his daughters,” Miriam had answered. Understanding her husband’s hesitation before he said another word, she’d added, “I know, it’s a bit intimidating to have the bishop so near at hand, but if you can respectfully put aside his role as our leader, he’s simply a man who needs our help. We need to step up, Alvie. We always have plenty of food and good will to spare. Last week at church I heard that his mother is going for surgery soon. Nothing too serious, but she’ll need to be off her feet for a few weeks, and you know Dinah has been cooking and cleaning in Aaron’s house since Dorcas passed. More than two years now. It’s a lot for an older woman to manage.”

“I’d say a home is a lot for any woman to manage,” he’d said, reaching back to fish an oatmeal cookie out of the jar on the counter.

“That’s true. It’s so good you see that.” How she loved her Alvin! So quick to imagine what it might be like to walk in someone else’s shoes. “Anyway, heaven knows when Dinah will be back on her feet. Apparently, she’s been pressuring Aaron to get a housekeeper, but he’s reluctant to hire someone. And I get that, with the girls at such tender ages. What if they didn’t get along? It might cook up a stew of misery. So the church women, we’re getting organized to pitch in and feed the family when we can. A casserole here, along with the occasional dinner invitation. It’s the least we can do.”

“It is, indeed.” As she’d been speaking, Alvin had remained a captive audience, leaning against the kitchen counter as he polished off the cookie. “I’ll be happy to have the Troyer family at our table.”

“Ach, Alvie, I knew you’d be on board. Think of what that family’s gone through since Dorcas died. The girls lost their mother, and Aaron had to go on with his church duties without his wife at his side. It breaks my heart at the sorrow they endured.”

“Such a big heart you have.” He brushed the crumbs from his hands and placed a hand on her shoulder, his fingertips stroking the back of her neck. Even after two decades of marriage, she still felt a tingling sensation at his touch, that sweet mixture of passion and comfort that they brought each other.

“‘And do not forget to do good and share with others,’” Miriam said, covering Alvin’s hand with hers. “That’s in the Bible. The book of Hebrews, I think.” She’d never been the student of Gott’s word that her mother desired, but somehow, Gott’s message lived in her heart.

“A good lesson to us all.” He’d placed a soulful kiss on her forehead as Peter and Paul had bounded into the kitchen in search of something to drink.

“We’re going to grill those ribs that your brother gave us, and Essie and I will bake,” she had said, looking back at her list. “Essie loves mixed berry pie, and Collette’s favorite is German chocolate cake. We’ve got to cater to our birthday girls!”

“Sounds delicious,” he said, moving aside so that the boys could get plastic tumblers from the shelf. “I’m happy to open our home to the bishop’s family, but something tells me there’s more to this. A bit of matchmaking up your sleeve?”

“Oh, you.” She waved him off. “Who’s got the time for all that?”

“You, my dear wife. You’re a bundle of energy.”

She let her fingers flicker at him again, smiling down at her list because she didn’t have the nerve to look him in the eye and confess.

He’d been right. He’d hit the nail kerplunk on the head.

Miriam had a plan, an idea that made her giddy with joy. How she loved bringing people together! Not to meddle in anyone’s business, but to make sure that other folks had a clear path to having love in their lives. And when she had an opportunity to play matchmaker, nothing could stand in her way.

Now Miriam arranged the last slices of tomato on the platter and swiped the back of her hand over the perspiration on her brow.

Over at the table, daughter Essie was giving her young sister-in-law, Suzie, a lesson on the slicing of fresh-baked bread. Since Essie’s marriage to Harlan Yoder last December, Essie had taken Harlan’s only sister under her wing, teaching her some homemaking skills and chatting her up to boost the shy girl’s conversation skills. Like a tender sprout reaching toward the sky, sixteen-year-old Suzie was gaining strength and a more solid footing after a difficult spell. The buggy accident many months ago had nearly crippled Suzie’s mother and left Suzie with a long scar on her face. Poor thing, so self-conscious. Honestly, Miriam barely noticed the thin, pink crease on Suzie’s face, but she understood that some scars reached deep inside, marking wounds of the soul. Thankfully, Suzie had some support. It was truly a blessing that Essie and Harlan’s marriage had placed Essie in the Yoder family at a time when Suzie needed a young woman she could confide in.

What a difference from this time last year! Back then, their celebration of Essie’s eighteenth birthday had been interrupted when Miriam’s brother-in-law had arrived from Philadelphia with a surprising request—that she and Alvin care for his three teenaged daughters who were acting out beyond his control.

So much had changed in one year. Megan, Serena, and Grace Sullivan had adjusted to life on an Amish farm, and in the process, the Englisch girls had worked their way into everyone’s hearts. Truly a blessing that Gott had brought them here. At the end of the summer, Megan would be heading off to college. College! Sending a young person off to study was a wonder that Miriam had never expected to experience as an Amish woman, but in the Englisch world many young people continued their education into later years.

Over at the sink, twelve-year-old Lizzie refilled the water pitcher as she talked with Grace and Sadie, the lovely young woman who would soon be Miriam’s daughter-in-law. Their topic? The wedding, of course. Not everyone enjoyed a wedding day, with the long ceremony of exchanging sacred vows, and the even longer day of festivities. ’Twas a lot of work, even for the hardy. But what woman didn’t love to talk of weddings and marriage and love? It was a joyous topic at frolics and sewing bees. Nothing warmed a girl’s heart more than the prospect of a couple finding love, joy, and a happy home together.

“And do you have any brothers to invite?” Grace asked Sadie.

“No, it’s just us three girls,” answered Sadie.

“Don’t worry about that,” said Lizzie. “When you marry Sam, you’ll get Paul and Peter as brothers. You know what they’re like.”

“They’re the ones who are usually running around in a cloud of dust,” said Grace Sullivan, the youngest of the Englisch girls who’d moved in last year. “Those guys have one speed—and that’s go.”

Sadie laughed. “They’re busy bees, all right.”

Miriam nodded to herself as she considered Sadie’s level response. Having spent much of her childhood at this farm, Sadie knew all about the twins. She’d helped Essie mind them when they were toddlers. But Sadie was humble enough not to boast to Grace. Smart girl—and considerate. She would make the perfect wife for Sam.

“All right, girls. I’m definitely ready for some delicious dinner,” Miriam said as she wiped her hands on a towel. “Come out as soon as you’re ready.” Holding the platter high, she led the way out, sighing as the gentle breeze whispered relief over her damp skin. Still chattering, the other girls followed, bearing trays and pitchers.

Outside, it was a relief to step from the warm wooden porch and feel the coolness of the grass on her bare feet. Miriam wriggled her toes, thanking Gott for the pleasure of summer. Nearly everyone at the gathering was barefoot, as was the custom this time of year in Lancaster County. Only Miriam’s Englisch nieces tended to wear sandals or flip-flops, which they needed since the soles of their feet hadn’t been toughened up by a lifetime on the farm.

The women had cleared off the dining tables from the first sitting, as most of the children had already scattered off to play on the lawn. The sliced bread and tomatoes were delivered to the table beside a platter of smoky barbecued ribs that Greta and Esther had just removed from the grill. The smoky scent made Miriam’s mouth water.

“Batch number two! Come and get it,” Miriam called, standing back as folks assembled in a casual line and began to fill their plates. Miriam stood back, hands on her hips, as she eyed the feast, complete with pickled beets, celery, and radishes from the garden, Mammi Esther’s potato salad, and deviled eggs from Greta. Delicious summer blessings.

“You can’t catch me!” Pete called to his twin brother as he ran across the lawn faster than a jackrabbit and bounded toward the tables.

“Easy, Pete,” Miriam warned as he brushed past her.

Following in close pursuit, Paul circled Miriam and launched a water balloon, which missed his brother but burst open as it landed on the patio near Alvin’s feet.

“Boys . . .” Alvin’s voice was stern but patient. “I admit, that was cool and refreshing, but keep it on the lawn while people are eating.”

Just then Mammi Esther came up behind Pete and clamped her arms around him. It made Miriam grin, seeing the diminutive older woman clinging to the thirteen-year-old boy whose recent growth spurt made him a head taller than his grandmother.

“My boy,” she said quietly, her mouth near his ear. “Do you have another water balloon?”

“Yah, Mammi.”

“Let me see.”

He reached into his half-open shirt and held up a roly-poly lime-green balloon filled with water.

“Let me show you what happens when you let your game spill over to the family meal.” Esther deftly pulled a straight pin from the edge of her apron, held it up to show everyone, and popped the tip into the balloon in Peter’s hands.

“Mammi, no!” Peter exclaimed as the balloon burst and water squirted over his shirt and hands.

Laughter resounded through the yard as Peter belly-ached a bit, and then joined in the laughs. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he told his grandmother.

“I’m always on your side,” she said, ruffling the brown hair that hung over his forehead. “That’s why I take the time to teach you a thing or two. Now, what do you say?”

“Sorry, Mammi. We’ll keep the games over on the lawn.” He reached into his shirt and removed a yellow water balloon. “At least I have a few left for when I find Paul.”

“Over there, by the trees,” Miriam said, shooing her son away. “We’ll call you when it’s time for dessert.”

Peter took off running as the second seating found places at the tables. The younger adults—couples and teens alike—congregated at the table closer to the flower garden, while Miriam’s peer group chose the table near the back porch. Miriam was glad to see the older teens going out of their way to make Aaron’s daughters feel at home. Once seated at the tables, everyone bowed their heads for the silent prayer to thank Gott for this wonderful meal. The silence was cut by a sudden cry—a pathetic little bleat that resembled a startled lamb. Over in her playpen, Greta and Lloyd’s youngest was howling, as if right on cue to interrupt her mother’s meal. Miriam smiled at the beautiful noise. Nothing made a woman feel needed quite like a baby’s cry!

Miriam motioned to Greta to stay put and went to the baby. “What’s the matter? What is it, little pumpkin?” She cradled little Nora in one arm and pushed her downy hair off her forehead. “Did you think you were forgotten? We could never forget you. Auntie Miriam has you now.”

The infant squirmed, staring at Miriam with a pouty face. “Come. Sit at the table with the grown-ups. It’s a special occasion.”

The baby nuzzled her face into Miriam’s shoulder, warming her heart. With her youngest child about to start school next month, Miriam had spent a few years without an infant in the house, and sometimes she did miss having a baby on her hip. She returned to her place at the table and, cradling Nora with one arm, proceeded to eat a spare rib with the other hand.

“I’ll take her,” Greta offered.

“Nay, I’m savoring a bit of baby time,” Miriam insisted. “Besides, eating with only hand may be the new diet trick I’ve been seeking.”

That brought a few chuckles from the women at the table, while the men wisely focused on eating.

As folks ate and chatted, Lizzie filled glasses from the water pitcher, and then took a seat in an empty spot near her grandmother, Esther. Twelve-year-old Lizzie had chosen to eat with the older folk today, and Miriam was pleased by her daughter’s consideration and maturity. The girl had a special fondness for her grandmother, Alvin’s mother, and it was clear from Esther Lapp’s tenderness toward the girl that the feeling was mutual.

When talk turned back to the wedding plans of Sam and Sadie, Miriam decided to share her recent news. “I just got a letter from my mother in Michigan,” she announced. “She and Dat will be here for Sam and Sadie’s wedding in the fall.”

“Is that right?” Alvin looked up from his tomato sandwich. “Lois and David are going to make the trip from Michigan?”

“Yay!” Lizzie exclaimed. “We haven’t seen them for so long!”

Despite her own reservations about seeing her mother, Miriam had known that Lizzie would be thrilled. “Your grandmother was a little shocked to receive a ‘save the date’ announcement,” she added. “Mem wrote that she hoped it was all right with the church leaders.”

A few heads turned toward Bishop Aaron, who paused with a forkful of potato salad held aloft over his plate. “There’s been no objection to those early notices,” he said. “The traditional way of keeping a wedding secret until the announcement had its purpose. But with wedding season being so busy, an early announcement seems to be the only way that families can manage to coordinate their calendars and travel to the big event. And it’s good to bring the family together, isn’t it?”

Murmurs of agreement came from most everyone at the table.

“I understand Lois’s surprise,” said Mammi Esther. “In my day, when a couple planned to marry, it was a closely held secret until the announcement was made in church.” She sighed. “Times have changed.”

“Do you think the old way was better?” asked Lizzie. “Sadie and Sam could have kept it a secret.”

Miriam looked over at Sam, who rolled his eyes at the idea that he and his bride-to-be could have kept the news under wraps any longer. After circumstances had kept them apart for months, Sadie and Sam wanted first and foremost to be together.

“That’s a good question, Lizzie.” Esther shrugged. “You get used to tradition, but sometimes there’s a good reason to change.”

“We do love our traditions,” Miriam agreed. “Porch sitting on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Frolics and quilting bees. Birthday gatherings like this . . .”

“Christmas morning,” Lizzie said with the delight of a girl who still has one foot in childhood.

Miriam smiled at her daughter. “I’m grateful for traditions that bring us together. But sometimes, I think it’s good to look at things from the other side of the fence and be open to making a change.”

“Just what I was saying,” Esther agreed. “We’re never too old to try new things.”

New things . . .

Was that the topic Miriam needed to transition to her suggestion for Collette and the bishop? Somehow, there seemed to be too many people around to go there. No, not now. She simply couldn’t spring the plan with all these folks in the conversation.

Miriam cast a subtle glance down the table to where Bishop Aaron was seated across from Collette Yoder, who’d recently joined the Lapp family. My fellow mother-in-law, Miriam thought. Over the past year, in the wake of Collette’s injury in a buggy crash, Miriam had gotten to know her new friend on a different level. The poor woman had suffered an injury and months of rehabilitation, she’d been uprooted from her home, and she’d learned of her estranged husband’s death, all in a matter of months. Through it all, through thick and thin, as they say, Miriam had tried to be a good friend to Collette. What an inspiration it had been to see Collette work her way back to good health.

The baby gurgled and raised a small fist to capture one of the strings of Miriam’s kapp. “Well, look at you. Got a handful?” Miriam teased.

“I’ll take her, Mem.” Suddenly Essie was at her side, leaning down to take the baby. “I’m finished, and you haven’t touched your sandwich.”

“Denki,” Miriam said, smiling up at her eldest daughter.

“Come here, sweetheart!” Essie said, her caramel eyes alight with love as she took her little cousin into her arms.

For a brief moment, Miriam saw herself more than twenty years ago, a young Amish woman so in love with her husband and ready to start a family. As Essie cradled the baby, Miriam noticed something different about her daughter. Was that a new fullness in her face? Was there possibly, oh, please Gott, a baby on the way?

The wondrous notion left Miriam speechless as she watched Essie move off with the baby. She was so wrapped up in thought, she didn’t notice Lizzie and Grace hurry over.

“Mem, Grace and I are so excited about the news!” Lizzie exclaimed. “I was trying to explain Mammi Lois to Grace, and we figured out that she’s Grace’s grandmother, too, right?”

“Yes, she is. Lois and David are your mother’s parents.” Why hadn’t Miriam made this connection on her own? “This will be your first chance to meet your Amish grandparents.”

“Yay for that.” Grace’s eyes were wide and glowing. “I’ve always wanted to meet them. Finally, someone who can tell me more about my mom.” Of the three Sullivan girls, Grace was the most curious about her mother’s background. She was always asking about Sarah’s childhood years growing up in an Amish home.

“I’m sure our mem has stories of Sarah,” Miriam said, forcing herself to smile at her niece. Although Miriam had shared many childhood memories of her older sister with Grace, sometimes the act of digging around in the past made her heart ache. She chalked it up to tender feelings for her sister Sarah, who had died of cancer a few years ago, but the truth was a bit more complicated. There had been some tumultuous episodes at home when teenaged Sarah told her parents she was leaving Joyful River to “see the real world.” Miriam felt it was her duty to protect her niece from those difficult memories, but of course, she would never tell a lie.

“I’m so psyched to meet them,” Grace said. “Especially my grandma. I can’t wait to hear her stories about Mom.”

Trouble ahead. Miriam wasn’t quite sure how to navigate the situation, but she had a month or so to figure out a plan. “I think your Amish grandmother is making a point of attending the wedding so that she can meet you and your sisters,” Miriam told Grace. That much was true.

“When did you say Mammi and Dawdi are coming?” Lizzie asked.

“Sometime in September. Remember, the wedding is the last Wednesday in September, and they’ll want to arrive at least a few days before that.” Miriam took a bite of her sandwich, hoping to veer away from the topic. As she chewed, she noticed that most everyone else had finished eating and plates were being cleared. “Time to get back to my hostess duties,” she told the girls, picking up her plates.

“We’ll help,” Grace offered.

“Can we put the candles on the cake?” Lizzie asked. “That’s one of my favorite things.”

“That would be a huge help,” Miriam said. “Come. It’s time for one of my favorite things—dessert!”

Seeking to fetch the dessert dish she’d prepared from the fridge of the Dawdi House, Collette Yoder had left the celebration and ventured down the short path to the small cottage that had been her home for many months now. The fresh air and quiet were a balm for her nerves, which could get a bit frazzled after spending time around so many people—and a certain person. What a contrast the big, sprawling Lapp family was to Collette’s own compact family. For so many years, it had been just her and the two children.

She walked down the lane with careful, measured steps—as she’d practiced during hours of physical therapy—until the two-bedroom cottage came into view. On Amish farms the Dawdi House was normally reserved for the elderly couple that had retired from the family business. Here at the Lapp farm, Mervin Lapp had passed years ago, and his wife, Esther, now felt more comfortable living down the road with her son Lloyd and his young family. Esther had offered the use of the place to Collette during the end of her recuperation, when she’d been unable to manage stairs but eager to reunite with her family. Since then, the cozy little house had been a godsend for Collette and her children. There’d been a slight worry of crowding when Essie had moved in after her marriage to Harlan, but it had been a blessing having Harlan’s bride in the little house. After a few months of close interactions and conversation, Collette looked upon Essie as a second daughter.

As Collette opened the cottage door and stepped in, she felt the comfort of the small space that was her home. These walls had provided a cozy, safe place for their family to live, but she knew it couldn’t last much longer. Sooner than later, Harlan and Essie would need this space for their growing family. Time to think of other living arrangements for herself and Suzie.

Collette removed the strawberry dessert from the fridge and nudged the door closed with her left foot. Such a feat for a woman who’d been in a wheelchair not long ago! She chuckled softly, enjoying the achievement. In the past year she’d learned that you had to find joy in these moments when they came along.

Time to head back to the dinner gathering. After years spent as a single parent, conversation, stories and laughter were a welcome social treat. It would all have been so gay and easy if it wasn’t for the powerful, wise man sitting nearby, commanding her attention and making it hard to take a deep breath.

Bishop Aaron.

He was a tall man with broad shoulders that gave him a big presence, one that commanded respect from men and women alike. A handsome man, with thick salt-and-pepper hair and beard, and eyes as blue and glimmering as the river in summer. Even a prudent woman like Collette could see how it would be easy to fall for a man like Aaron Troyer. It was even easier to lose your heart when he showered kindness upon you.

“Call me Aaron,” he’d said months ago when he’d visited her in the care facility as part of his duties as a church leader.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” Collette had said, pulling a knitted quilt to cover herself in the hospital bed. Although she’d been clothed, her hair pinned up and covered with a prayer kapp, it seemed wrong to meet with a man, especially a church leader, while in bed. “We were much more formal in the Swartzentruber settlement where I grew up.”

“In New York. Is that right?”

She’d felt pleased that he’d cared enough to learn something about her. “That was my home. Where I met my husband.”

The glimmer in his eyes as he’d nodded had been nothing short of heavenly, and she’d felt sure that Gott had indeed chosen this wonderful man to do His will in the town of Joyful River. And what an enormous blessing that Gott’s will had brought Aaron to her meager bedside.

Although she had thought the visits would trail off, that the glow she felt in his presence would fade, Aaron had remained a steady supporter.

And the spark of attraction crackled every time he was near. She suspected that the feeling was one-sided, and simply thanked Gott for adding a bit of excitement to her life now and again. In any case, she wasn’t ready for a relationship in her life. With one child still under her wing, she was saving money for a place of their own. Although she’d needed to leave her job at the pretzel factory, which had kept her on her feet all day, she’d recently found part-time work as a housekeeper for Len and Linda Hostetler’s family, and for all those blessings she was grateful.

Gratitude.

Collette Yoder felt it in the waning sunlight, the smell of warm clover and honeysuckle as she walked the expanse of lawn on her way back from the Dawdi House, the gurgle of laughter from the group gathered ’round the wooden picnic table like old friends. Gratitude was set deep in her bones, but moments like this amplified it, like ripples traveling the surface of a pond.

Her greatest blessings came from what had seemed like the most devastating tragedy of her life—the buggy accident last fall that had left her bedridden. . .