Thursday's Bride

by Patricia Johns

Genres: Amish & Mennonite

Synopsis

For a proper young Amish widow struggling to begin again, encountering her reckless first love will test her forgiveness, resolve—and heart ... Overwhelmed by grief and tending twin baby daughters, Rosmanda Lapp is without options. She still blames her brother-in-law, Levi, for her husband's accidental death—but she and her aging in-laws need him to keep their farm going. Yet as Levi takes on his responsibilities with a new determination and steadiness, she can't help but regret that she chose his serious-minded brother over him. For Levi is still very much the passionate man she loved—and Rosmanda now has even more reasons to keep him at arm's length ... Levi can't blame Rosmanda for staying clear of him. He has mistakes to make up for and must finally do right by his parents. Still, he never got over his brother stealing Rosmanda away. And he can't deny the feelings that even now tempt them back to each other. And when a mistake from her past threatens her reputation, Levi will do whatever it takes to help her—and trust that faith and courage will at last help them claim a future together ...

Release date: March 31, 2020

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 336

Sample

Rosmanda held the plastic bottle firmly between her palms as the brown calf drank hungrily. Milk dribbled from its chin, and it butted the bottle as it slurped back the frothy milk. The cow had delivered triplets—a bovine rarity—but one had died and the cow hadn’t allowed the smaller of the surviving calves to drink from her, so it had become a bottle baby, and extra work around the Lapp family farm.

Extra work . . . there was always more to do now. But she liked the quiet out here in the barn, the smell of the hay, the bleat of the goats. It was soothing, and for just a few minutes she could let her mind wander. Afternoons like this, she half expected to hear her husband, Wayne, come into the barn and everything would be back to normal. He’d give her that serious nod of his—the one where she knew the tenderness underneath his reserve. And then she wouldn’t have to worry about calves and milking anymore, because the men would take care of the men’s work, and she’d head back to the house to help her mother-in-law with the cooking and cleaning, and tend to her twin baby girls. If she shut her eyes, it seemed possible . . .

But Rosmanda didn’t have the time to daydream about impossibilities. Wayne was dead and with God now, and she was left here with children to raise and the obligation to help out on her father-in-law’s farm.

The calf butted the bottle again as it drank, and Rosmanda was pushed backward a step.

“Hungry, are you?” Rosmanda murmured. “Come on, don’t push over the one holding your milk.”

The barn door opened behind her, and Rosmanda didn’t even bother to turn. It would be her father-in-law, coming to get another load of hay. The calf had emptied the bottle down to foam, and she popped the nipple from its mouth and scratched it behind the ears.

“This one is almost ready for a bottle and a half every feed,” Rosmanda said, turning around, but it wasn’t Stephen Lapp. She froze, as her gaze landed on the tall, steely-eyed man who’d just walked into the barn, her heart hammering hard in her chest.

“Levi . . .” Her voice sounded breathy in her own ears, not the snap it should have been. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to help out my daet,” Levi said, coming inside the barn, the door slamming behind him. He was tall, rugged, with broad shoulders and eyes that locked on to her with that intensity he gave to everything that interested him . . . It was like no time had passed, and she hated that—because too much had happened since he’d been here on his father’s land.

Stephen had needed an extra man around this farm ever since Wayne died during the first snow. That hard, cold, grief-filled winter had passed with just the three of them working together to keep the farm running, and now her brother-in-law showed up?

“Why now?” she asked.

“Daet asked me to come.”

“But you knew he was struggling before this,” she said.

“You wanted to see me before now?” he countered. “Look, this is complicated. We all know that. I’d offered to come earlier, and Daet had refused. He wanted to give you more time—”

“Me?” She felt that familiar wave of dread. Her father-in-law had struggled on his own because of her? Her position here was precarious enough.

“And maybe he knew I needed a little more time, too.” Levi shrugged. “Regardless, he asked me to come now. I came.”

Stephen couldn’t wait longer than this—with the spring thaw came calves soon enough. He’d need the extra help. And whatever their history together, Levi was their son.

“I know you blame me for what happened to Wayne,” Levi said, his voice low. “But it wasn’t my fault—”

“No?” she interrupted. “He’d never have been on the side of that highway if it weren’t for your antics.”

“You can’t blame a speeding driver on me,” Levi replied. “Yah, he came out to fetch me, but I never asked him to. I was happy leaving the two of you alone. So, stop blaming me for something neither of us could control. If we have to be here together, we might as well get that out of the way.”

Rosmanda bit back the words that sprung to her mind—none of them kind. Levi could claim to be innocent when it came to his brother’s death, but his public drunkenness had been the reason that Wayne had been called to go collect him, and Wayne would go. He was that kind of man—stable, reliable, compassionate. And now, dead because of those very virtues he lived by.

Rosmanda wasn’t this snappish person she seemed to be in the moment, and she hated the sound of that spite in her own voice.

God, grant me courage . . . To do what? To face Levi? To forgive him? She’d grieved her husband deeply these last months, and she knew that if Levi had just acted the part of a proper Amish man, she’d still have her husband by her side. But that had been Levi’s problem from the start—he was never quite proper enough. Amish men buried their hearts deep and they didn’t flash it around when those hearts were broken. Levi should have done the sensible thing and married when Rosmanda chose his brother over him. But he hadn’t . . . he’d turned to drinking with the Englishers instead.

As much as her husband’s death was on Levi’s hands, Levi’s downfall just might be on hers....

“So how long are you staying for?” Rosmanda asked. She silently hoped there were some obligation pulling Levi away again. A hired hand around the farm would be easier to bear.

“I’m here for good.”

Rosmanda rubbed her hand down her apron and tried to control the emotion that welled up inside of her. And while she might sound angry and hardened, under that protective shell, she was broken, grieving and frightened about her future. She was living with her in-laws for the time being, raising her baby girls and trying not to think too much about what she’d do with herself a few months from now, a year from now . . . Because this arrangement couldn’t last. At twenty-five, Rosmanda was young enough to remarry, and her in-laws weren’t wealthy enough to allow her to put that off for long. A man would have to take Rosmanda off their hands and provide for her daughters, whether Rosmanda was ready for a new marriage or not. It was simply how things worked.

“You’re here for good—” Rosmanda licked her lips and glanced up into Levi’s rugged face. If he was staying, did that mean that her in-laws had other plans for her, marriage-wise?

“If I could have just given you some space, I would have,” Levi said. “But you’ve done enough to help out. Your kinner need you, Rosie.”

At the mention of her babies, unbidden tears rose up in her eyes. Rosmanda blinked them back.

“Don’t call me Rosie,” she said, her voice catching. It had been four years since they’d been close enough for nicknames and endearments.

“Sorry. An old habit.” Levi scuffed his boot against the cement floor of the barn. “You have nothing to worry about from me. I’m here to help my daet, and that’s it.”

“Fine. That’s clear enough.” Rosmanda looked toward the outside door. “If you’re taking over here, then I should get back to the house.”

“Rosie—” He stopped, pressed his lips together. “Rosmanda,” he corrected himself. “I didn’t ask anyone to call Wayne that night. I promise you that.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Rosmanda said, suddenly feeling very tired. “You didn’t have to. Everyone knew who you belonged to, and Wayne wouldn’t have left you outside some bar to sober up. Of course he’d come. You should have known he would.”

“So you still blame me,” he said woodenly.

“Who else?” Rosmanda shook her head. “We were woken up by the Englisher neighbor at midnight when someone called to fetch you. What was he supposed to do, tell the neighbor thanks for dragging himself out of bed, but Wayne would rather sleep? You were his brother, and of course he’d come for you. All of that ruckus was your fault.”

“I didn’t ask them to call him!” Levi said, but his voice sounded choked, his earlier calm cracking. “I told them to let me be.”

“Abundance has laws against people sleeping in the streets, and you know it,” she said. “And why are we even arguing about this? What’s done is done.”

Levi’s face was ashen in the low light of the barn. He pulled his hat off and raked a hand through his sandy blond hair.

“So that’s it, then?” Levi said. “I’m supposed to take responsibility for Wayne’s death, and we don’t get to talk about where Wayne went wrong?”

“Wayne was a good man—” she started.

“He wasn’t perfect!” Levi interrupted. “I was his brother, and he moved in and married the girl I’d loved! Everyone talks about how good Wayne was, what a hard worker, how devoted to the faith. But he had no problem betraying me, did he? Isn’t there a Bible verse saying you know what kind of person someone is by the fruit they produce? He kept up appearances. That’s all I can say about my brother.”

“I chose!” Rosmanda snapped, her voice echoing in the barn around her. “You didn’t quibble over me like some last piece of corn bread! I had a choice between the two of you, and I made it. Don’t make this into some brotherly honor system—like you could call dibs on a woman the way you could on a horse. I knew what I needed in life, Levi, and I made my choice!”

Levi fell silent, then nodded. “You did.”

And she’d made the right choice. A marriage wasn’t about sweet words or a hammering heart. It wasn’t about those delicate feelings that couldn’t last for the decade upon decade that piled up in a long marriage. It was about an agreement between two people to stand together no matter what, to work side by side and to raise a family. If a woman married a man she could respect, she’d done well. If a man married a woman who was hardworking, he’d be successful.

A fragile emotional connection couldn’t last. She’d learned that the hardest way possible back in Morinville when she was at the heart of the biggest scandal to rock that town. Rosmanda wasn’t the kind of fool who needed to learn a painful lesson twice.

Levi was back, and Rosmanda would have to deal with him whether she liked it or not. But working together on the Lapp farm didn’t change the fact that she was widowed because of Levi’s rebellious incompetence. And while she might shut her mouth for the sake of family harmony, she wouldn’t forget.

Wayne deserved better than that.

Levi stood back as Rosmanda brushed past him and headed for the barn door. Her long dark hair was rolled up behind her white prayer kapp, a single tendril loose down her neck. She was even thinner than when he last saw her across the barn at one of the rare Sunday services he’d attended before Wayne’s death. Amish women tended to stay slim because of their active lifestyle, but after giving birth to the twins, Rosmanda had been pleasantly plump. Levi had liked it—it softened her a little more. But the last few months had taken a toll on her. She was obviously grieving for Wayne deeply, and he wondered how much she was eating.

As if that was even his business. His problem had always been that he’d kept caring, even after he was supposed to step back, but Rosmanda wasn’t a woman so easily put aside.

“Rosmanda,” he said, his raised voice echoing. She turned back as she reached the door, dark eyes locking on him. Her apron was streaked with dust, and a piece of straw clung to the skirt of her dress.

“What?” She tugged her shawl a little closer around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“You ask that now?” she demanded. “The last I saw you was at the funeral.”

“You had my parents,” he countered, but that was a weak argument. “And you blamed me for the accident.”

Rosmanda sighed. “I thought I’d be married to Wayne for the rest of my life. And now he’s gone. Even the babies miss him—”

“I miss him, too,” Levi said, his throat tightening.

“If you missed him you should have done more to keep a relationship with him after our wedding,” she said.

“I don’t know what he told you—”

“He told me he missed his little brother! He told me that you two used to be close, and he wished you’d just put this silly mess behind you.”

“And you wanted to see more of me?” he asked with a low laugh. “Really?”

Pink colored her cheeks, and he knew he’d hit on something there. “Whatever was between us was over, Levi. We were a family, and we should have been able to act like one.”

“Like we are now—” Levi spread his hands. “This wonderfully functional family relationship we have going at the moment—”

Rosmanda turned toward the door again, refusing to be goaded. “I’ll see you inside for supper.”

She pushed outside and the door banged shut behind her, leaving Levi in relative silence. Conversation over, apparently. She’d been his brother’s wife, and he’d struggled to see her as only a sister-in-law after that wedding. He knew what it felt like to hold her in his arms, to kiss her, to brush her hair away from her forehead when it came loose from her kapp. . . . He knew how her eyes could sparkle when his lips hovered over hers. And then he had to watch his overly serious brother sit next to her on that buggy seat, reserved and distant. Wayne hadn’t loved her like Levi had, but he’d won her anyway.

Levi grabbed a pitchfork and headed for one of the calves’ stalls. He’d agreed to come home and help out his daet because they needed him, but this hadn’t been his idea. This farm didn’t feel like his home anymore—especially after Wayne married Rosmanda and they moved into Levi and Wayne’s old bedroom. Amish newlyweds normally moved in with the bride’s family, but hers was in another state. He’d done the gracious thing and found a job on another farm. He’d paid for room and board there and stayed clear of his parents’ house.

While he had accepted that Wayne had married Rosmanda, he couldn’t bring himself to sit around a table with them and wish them any happiness. That would have been the Amish ideal, of course, that brothers could set aside some courting differences and pull together to make a lively, loving extended family that would support the couple as they started their marriage. The Amish life was about community, and in order to maintain a close and effective community, small irritations had to be set aside for the greater good. His daet had expected that of him. Wayne had, too. But Levi wasn’t a man who faked the ideals. His brother had betrayed him on a deeper level than anyone else seemed to realize, and Levi hadn’t been inclined to forgive him, especially since Wayne didn’t seem to think he needed it. Wayne had won—he’d married Rosmanda. Wayne could enjoy his victory, but he couldn’t make Levi stand there and watch it, either.

But now Wayne was dead, and Levi had come home. He might defend himself when it came to that buggy accident, but he couldn’t help the guilt that plagued him, either. Hard work was normally good medicine for the soul, but today it didn’t seem to be helping. Levi had known it would be hard to come home again, but he didn’t have much choice. Daet needed help, and Levi was the last son who didn’t have a farm and family of his own to take care of. The responsibility was his.

Levi cleaned out the remaining stalls and went to the barn sink to wash up. He pushed open the barn door and headed out in the warm afternoon sunlight. He’d spent the day working with his daet, and he’d avoided going in for lunch because he hadn’t been ready to face her yet, but he couldn’t do that again. He wouldn’t just shrink into a corner. If she didn’t like having him around, then maybe she should be the one to avoid him.

As Levi walked away from the barn and toward the house, he left clean stalls behind him, and calves all fed and napping together in one corner. A job well done. Say what they would about his reputation, his drinking, and his un-Amish ways, but he was a good farmer. And he’d been doing his best these last few months to put his life back together again. He’d stopped the drinking, and he’d started attending some Englisher AA meetings in town to help him stay off the booze. He’d been able to attend those weekly meetings with no one noticing when he was working another man’s farm, but it would be more difficult here at home with his parents watching him. If he wanted to keep it private, that was. It would also be more difficult to find alcohol, though. God worked in mysterious ways.

Horses grazed in the tender new growth of the west field, and as his eyes ran over the various animals, he spotted a large quarter horse he hadn’t noticed before. It was a huge stallion, with a glossy coat and muscles that rippled as it took a slow step forward toward a lush patch of grass. None of the other horses, even the quarter horses, came anywhere near to this brute’s size, and Levi headed for the fence, eyeing the animal in silent approval.

Footsteps crunched behind him on the gravel, and he turned to see his daet approaching.

“Supper’s waiting,” Daet said, coming up beside him.

“That horse,” Levi said, not to be diverted. “It’s new?”

“New enough,” Daet replied. “I bought it last summer. That animal is one beautiful waste of horseflesh.”

“A waste? That brute could pull a wagon by himself!” Levi retorted. “He’d even be worth something for breeding . . .”

“If he were trainable,” Daet said with a shake of his head. “He’s huge and strong, and too bullheaded to break. Your brother tried for months.”

“Hmm.” Levi eyed the horse for a few moments longer. “Did you try?”

“I didn’t bother,” Daet replied. “You know how good your brother was with the horses. If he couldn’t do it—”

“I want to try,” Levi said.

Daet pushed his thumbs into the front of his pants and turned. Levi followed, matching his father’s pace as they headed back toward the house.

“You?” Daet chuckled and shook his head. “Son, that’s one beautiful horse, but the minute anyone comes near it, it goes crazy. It was a complete waste of money. Wayne bought him on a whim from Jacob Eicher just west of here. Jacob said he’d tried and failed to break that horse, and Wayne took it as a challenge. We bought him for almost nothing.”

“I want to try,” Levi repeated. “I can break him.”

“I highly doubt it,” Daet said simply. “Don’t waste your time. I’ll sell him soon enough. He might go for horsemeat, but I’ll get some money back.”

Levi didn’t like the thought of that beautiful creature being destroyed, but he let the subject drop as they headed up the side stairs and took turns kicking the mud off their boots on the boot brush. Then they pushed open the side door and the smell of cooking food met them. His mother’s cooking—he’d missed this. No one cooked quite so well as Miriam Lapp did.

The sound of the women’s voices filtered out from the kitchen, and Levi glanced toward his father to see him staring at him.

“What’s wrong, Daet?” he asked.

“I’m glad you’re back, Son,” Daet said. “I never liked how things brewed between you and your brother. This was always your home, too, you know.”

“There wasn’t room for the both of us, Daet.”

“There always was.”

Mamm and Daet probably didn’t know the worst of it between Wayne and Levi. Still, Levi didn’t want to talk about it, especially not with the reason for all their conflict standing out there in the kitchen.

“Rosmanda’s not so keen to see me,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“She’ll be fine.” The words were sharper than Levi found entirely reassuring.

“She blames me, you know.”

His father sighed and looked away.

“You’ll have to mend your ways,” his daet said at last. “There is a community to consider in every choice you make. It isn’t about one man’s feelings. It’s about holding a community together and doing what you must. Wayne knew that.”

His father turned and stepped into the kitchen, leaving Levi alone in the chill of the mudroom. Wayne had known how to protect appearances to the very last. It seemed that even here, his parents thought Wayne had been the injured party in that mess with Rosmanda, and that stung. Because Wayne had convinced Rosmanda to marry him, that let him off the hook? But some men got a reputation that became almost impossible to shed, like Levi had managed. Nothing he did would fix it. He was a drunkard, a ne’er-do-well. He could be counted on for a good time, but not much more than that. Like that horse out there in the field that stood two hand spans taller than any other. That stallion had backed himself into a corner at some point, too.

Levi hung his jacket on a peg and headed into the warmth of the kitchen.

He’d break that horse. Just because his brother had failed at the task didn’t make it impossible. Besides, it might give him some welcome distraction when he was finished with his work for the day. Because he sure wouldn’t be rushing back to the house for some quality time with his sister-in-law. She made him feel things he didn’t want to dredge up again.

Rosmanda eyed the window as dinnertime approached. The men would come in soon enough, and her stomach felt queasy with worry. Of course, the Lapps wanted a relationship with their youngest son. And of course, they’d want him home to help with the farm. She understood it all quite clearly, but it changed her situation here. She was the widow, the one who couldn’t forgive the son they had left. Obviously, his parents had forgiven him, since he was here. And they’d expect her to marry and move on. This winter’s comfortable arrangement that allowed her to grieve was over.

Dinner that night was pork roast, potatoes, canned carrots from the year before, and an apple crumble for dessert. Rosmanda worked in silence to get the meal on the table.

“Rosmanda, grab these rolls, would you?” Miriam said, handing a wicker basket over the counter. Rosmanda took it with a tight smile.

“Are you all right?” Miriam asked.

“Yah. Of course.” Rosmanda put the rolls next to a large bowl of mashed potatoes just as the side door opened. She could hear the men’s boots on the floor in the mudroom, their voices in low conversation, and then Stephen stepped through the door into the kitchen in sock feet.

“It smells good,” he said, and glanced over his shoulder. Levi came in behind him. Levi glanced over at Rosmanda, catching her gaze for a moment. He looked away, and hesitated at the table, his hand on the back of a chair.

“Yes—your seat,” Stephen said. “It’s always been yours.”

Actually, that seat had been Rosmanda’s, at least after she moved into the house with her husband. She licked her lips. She’d be sitting in Wayne’s seat, then. Maybe it was better that way—she’d rather sit there than have Levi in her late husband’s chair. That would feel worse. Without a word, she pulled the wooden high chairs to the other side of the table, next to her new seat, and then went to collect her daughters, who were playing with a rattle and a rag doll on the floor beside the staircase.

“Come along, Susanna,” she murmured, scooping up the first baby. She tied her into the high chair, and Hannah set up a wail from the floor un. . .