An Amish Match Read online

  A Convenient Wedding

  With a baby on the way, a toddler son to care for and a run-down farm, Amish widow Rebekah Burkholder is worried for her family’s future. So when a kind, hardworking Amish widower with three children proposes marriage for sensible reasons, Rebekah accepts. She’ll oversee Joshua Stoltzfus’s household, be a loving mother to his children and try to reach his rebellious teenager. Joshua will make a wonderful father to her young son and the little one soon to be born. But as Rebekah unexpectedly falls for her new husband, dare she hope that Joshua will reopen his heart to love, too?

  “Will you marry me, Rebekah?” Joshua asked.

  “But why?” Her cheeks turned to fire as she added, “That sounded awful. I’m sorry. The truth is you’ve always been a gut friend, Joshua, which is why I feel I can be blunt.”

  “If we can’t speak honestly now, I can’t imagine when we could.”

  “Then I will honestly say I don’t understand why you’d ask me to m-m-marry you.” She hated how she stumbled over the simple word.

  No, it wasn’t simple. There was nothing simple about Joshua Stoltzfus appearing at her door to ask her to become his wife.

  “Because we could help each other. Isn’t that what a husband and wife are? Helpmeets?” He cleared his throat. “I would rather marry a woman I know and respect as a friend. We’ve both married once for love, and we’ve both lost the one we love. Is it wrong to be more practical this time?”

  Every inch of her wanted to shout, “Ja!” But his words made sense.

  She’d been blinded by love once. How much better would it be to marry with her eyes wide open?

  She’d be a fool not to agree immediately.

  Jo Ann Brown has always loved stories with happy-ever-after endings. A former military officer, she is thrilled to have the chance to write stories about people falling in love. She is also a photographer, and she travels with her husband of more than thirty years to places where she can snap pictures. They live in Nevada with three children and a spoiled cat. Drop her a note at joannbrownbooks.com.

  Books by Jo Ann Brown

  Love Inspired

  Amish Hearts

  Amish Homecoming

  An Amish Match

  Love Inspired Historical

  Matchmaking Babies

  Promise of a Family

  Family in the Making

  Her Longed-For Family

  Sanctuary Bay

  The Dutiful Daughter

  A Hero for Christmas

  A Bride for the Baron

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  AN AMISH MATCH

  Jo Ann Brown

  Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

  —Joshua 1:9

  For Linda Parisi

  A dear friend who always makes me smile

  just thinking of her

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from The Cowboy’s Twins by Deb Kastner

  Chapter One

  Paradise Springs

  Lancaster County, Pennsylvania

  The rainy summer afternoon was as dismal as the hearts of those who had gathered at the cemetery. Most of the mourners were walking back to their buggies, umbrellas over their heads like a parade of black mushrooms. The cemetery with its identical stones set in almost straight lines on the neatly trimmed grass was edged by a worn wooden rail fence. The branches on a single ancient tree on the far side of the cemetery rocked with the wind that lashed rain on the few people remaining by the newly covered grave.

  Rebekah Burkholder knew she should leave the Stoltzfus family in private to mourn their loss, but she remained to say a silent prayer over the fresh earth. Rose Mast Stoltzfus had been her first cousin, and as kinder they’d spent hours together every week doing their chores and exploring the fields, hills and creeks near their families’ farms. Now Rose, two years younger than Rebekah, was dead from a horrific asthma attack at twenty-four.

  The whole Stoltzfus family encircled the grave where a stone would be placed in a few weeks. Taking a step back, Rebekah tightened her hold on both her son’s hand and her umbrella that danced in the fickle wind. Sammy, who would be three in a few months, watched everything with two fingers stuck in his mouth. She knew that over the next few days she would be bombarded with questions—as she had been when his daed died. She hoped she’d be better prepared to answer this time. At least she could tell him the truth rather than skirt it because she didn’t want him ever to know what sort of man his daed had been.

  “It’s time to go, Sammy,” she said in little more than a whisper when he didn’t move.

  “Say bye-bye?” He looked up at her with his large blue eyes that were his sole legacy from her. He had Lloyd’s black hair and apple-round cheeks instead of the red curls she kept restrained beneath her kapp and the freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks.

  “Ja.” She bent to hug him, shifting so her expanding belly didn’t bump her son. Lloyd hadn’t known about his second kind because he’d died before she was certain she was pregnant again. “We have said bye-bye.”

  “Go bye-bye?”

  Her indulgent smile felt out of place at the graveside. Yet, as he had throughout his young life, her son gave her courage and a reason to go on.

  “Ja.”

  Standing slowly because her center of balance changed every day, she held out her hand to him again. He put his fingers back in his mouth, glanced once more at the grave, then stepped away from it along with her.

  Suddenly the wind yanked on Rebekah’s umbrella, turning it inside out. As the rain struck them, Sammy pressed his face against her skirt. She fought to hold on to the umbrella. Even the smallest things scared him; no wonder after what he had seen and witnessed in those horrible final months of his daed’s life.

  No! She would not think of that time again. She didn’t want to remember any of it. Lloyd had died last December, almost five months ago, and he couldn’t hurt her or their kinder again.

  “Mamm,” Sammy groaned as he clung to her.

  “It’s all right,” she cooed as she tried to fix her umbrella.

  She didn’t look at any of the other mourners as she forced her umbrella down to her side where the wind couldn’t grab it again. Too many people had told her that she mollycoddled her son, and he needed to leave his babyish ways behind now that he was almost three. They thought she was spoiling him because he had lost his daed, but none of those people knew Sammy had experienced more fear and despair in his short life than they had in their far longer ones.

  “Here. Let me help,” said a deep voice from her left.

  She tilted her head to look past the brim of her black bonnet. Her gaze rose and rose until it met Joshua Stoltzfus’s earth-brown eyes through the pouring rai
n. He was almost six feet tall, almost ten inches taller than she was. His dark brown hair was damp beneath his black hat that dripped water off its edge. His beard was plastered to the front of the coat he wore to church Sundays, and soaked patches were even more ebony on the wide shoulders of his coat. He’d gotten drenched while helping to fill in the grave.

  “Take this,” he said, holding his umbrella over her head. “I’ll see if I can repair yours.”

  “Danki.” She held the umbrella higher so it was over his head, as well. She hoped Joshua hadn’t seen how she flinched away when he moved his hand toward her. Recoiling away from a man’s hand was a habit she couldn’t break.

  “Mamm!” Sammy cried. “I wet now!”

  Before she could pull her son back under the umbrella’s protection, Joshua looked to a young girl beside him, “Deborah, can you take Samuel under your umbrella while I fix Rebekah’s?”

  Deborah, who must have been around nine or ten, had the same dark eyes and hair as Joshua. Her face was red from where she’d rubbed away tears, but she smiled as she took Sammy’s hand. “Komm. It’s dry with me.”

  He didn’t hesitate, surprising Rebekah. He usually waited for permission before he accepted any invitation. Perhaps, at last, he realized he didn’t have to ask now that Lloyd was dead.

  Joshua turned her umbrella right side out, but half of it hung limply. The ribs must have been broken by the gust.

  “Danki,” she said. “It’s gut enough to get me to our buggy.”

  “Don’t be silly.” He tucked the ruined umbrella under his left arm and put his hand above hers on the handle of his umbrella.

  Again she flinched, and he gave her a puzzled look. Before she could let go, his fingers slid down to cover hers, holding them to the handle.

  “We’ll go with you back to your buggy,” he said.

  She didn’t look at him because she didn’t want to see his confusion. How could she explain to Lloyd’s best friend about her reaction that had become instinctive? “I don’t want to intrude on...” She gulped, unable to go on as she glanced at the other members of the Stoltzfus family by the grave.

  “It’s no intrusion. I told Mamm we’d go back to the house to make sure everything was ready for those gathering there.”

  She suspected he wasn’t being completely honest. The Leit, the members of their church district, would oversee everything so the family need not worry about any detail of the day. However, she was grateful for his kindness. She’d always admired that about him, especially when she saw him with one of his three kinder.

  Glancing at the grave, she realized neither of his boys remained. Timothy, who must have been around sixteen, had already left with his younger brother, Levi, who was a year older than Deborah.

  “Ready to go?” Joshua asked as he tugged gently on the umbrella handle and her hand.

  “Ja.” Instantly she changed her mind. “No.”

  Stepping away, she was surprised when he followed to keep the umbrella over her head. She appreciated staying out of the rain as she walked to Isaiah, her cousin’s widower. The young man who couldn’t yet be thirty looked as haggard as a man twice his age as he stared at the overturned earth. Some sound must have alerted him, because he turned to see her and his older brother coming toward him.

  Rebekah didn’t speak as she put her hand on Isaiah’s black sleeve. So many things she longed to say, because from everything she had heard the newlyweds had been deeply in love. They would have celebrated their first anniversary in November.

  All she could manage to say was, “I’m sorry, Isaiah. Rose will be missed.”

  “Danki, Rebekah.” He looked past her to his oldest brother. “Joshua?”

  “Rebekah’s umbrella broke,” Joshua said simply. “I’m walking her to her buggy. We’ll see you back at the house.”

  Isaiah nodded but said nothing more as he turned to look at the grave.

  Joshua gripped his brother’s shoulder in silent commiseration, then motioned for Rebekah to come with him. As soon as they were out of earshot of the remaining mourners, he said, “It was very kind. What you said to Isaiah.”

  “I don’t know if he really heard me or not. At Lloyd’s funeral, people talked to me but I didn’t hear much other than a buzz like a swarm of bees.”

  “I remember feeling that way, too, when my Matilda died.” He steered her around a puddle in the grass. “Even though we had warning as she sickened, nothing could ease my heart when she breathed her last.”

  “She was blessed to have you with her until the end.” She once had believed she and Lloyd could have such a love. Would she have been as caring if Lloyd had been ill instead of dying because he’d fallen from the hayloft in a drunken stupor?

  No! She wasn’t going to think about that awful moment again, a moment when only her faith had kept her from giving in to panic. The certainty that God would hold her up through the horrible days ahead had allowed her to move like a sleepwalker through the following month. Her son and the discovery she was pregnant again had pulled her back into life. Her kinder needed her, and she wouldn’t let them down any longer. It was important that nobody know the truth about Lloyd, because she didn’t want people watching Sammy, looking for signs that he was like his daed.

  “I know Rose’s death must be extra hard for you,” Joshua murmured beneath the steady thump of rain on his umbrella, “because it’s been barely half a year since you buried Lloyd. My Matilda has been gone for more than four years, and the grief hasn’t lessened. I’ve simply become accustomed to it, but the grief is still new for you.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He glanced down at her, his brown eyes shadowed, but his voice filled with compassion. “I know how much I miss Lloyd. He was my best friend from our first day of school. But nothing compares with losing a spouse, especially a gut man like Lloyd Burkholder.”

  “That’s true.” But, for her, mourning was not sad in the way Joshua described his own.

  Lloyd Burkholder had been a gut man...when he’d been sober. As he had never been drunk beyond their home, nobody knew about how a gut man became a cruel man as alcohol claimed him. The teasing about how she was clumsy, the excuse she gave for the bruises and her broken finger, hurt almost as much as his fist had.

  She put her hand over her distended belly. Lloyd would never be able to endanger their second kind as he had his first. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about doing everything she could to avoid inciting his rage, which he’d, more than once, aimed at their unborn kind the last time she was pregnant. Before Sammy was born, she’d been fearful Lloyd’s blows might have damaged their boppli. God had heard her desperate prayers because Sammy was perfect when he was born, and he was growing quickly and talking nonstop.

  Joshua started to say more, then closed his mouth. She understood. Too many sad memories stood between them, but there were gut ones, as well. She couldn’t deny that. On the days when Lloyd hadn’t been drunk, he had often taken her to visit Joshua and Matilda. Those summery Sunday afternoons spent on the porch of Joshua and Matilda’s comfortable white house while they’d enjoyed iced tea had been wunderbaar. They had ended when Matilda became ill and was diagnosed with brain cancer.

  A handful of gray buggies remained by the cemetery’s gate. The horses had their heads down as rain pelted them, and Rebekah guessed they were as eager to return to their dry stalls and a gut rubdown as Dolly, her black buggy horse, was.

  “Mamm!” Sammy’s squeal of delight sounded out of place in the cemetery.

  She whirled to see him running toward them. Every possible inch of him was wet, and his clothes were covered with mud. Laughter bubbled up from deep inside her. She struggled to keep it from bursting out.

  When she felt Joshua shake beside her, she discovered he was trying to restrain his own amusement. She looked quickly away. If their gazes m
et, even for a second, she might not be able to control her laughter.

  “Whoa!” Joshua said, stretching out a long arm to keep Sammy from throwing himself against Rebekah. “You don’t want to get your mamm dirty, do you?”

  “Dirty?” the toddler asked, puzzled.

  Deborah came to a stop right behind Sammy. “I tried to stop him.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “But he jumped into the puddle before I could.”

  Rebekah pulled a cloth out from beneath her cape. She’d pinned it there for an emergency like this. Wiping her son’s face, she gave the little girl a consoling smile. “Don’t worry. He does this sort of thing a lot. I hope he didn’t splash mud on you.”

  “He missed me.” The girl’s smile returned. “I learned how to move fast from being around Aenti Ruth’s kinder. I wish I could have been fast enough to keep him from jumping in the puddle in the first place.”

  “No one is faster than a boy who wants to play in the water.” Joshua surprised her by winking at Sammy. “Isn’t that right?”

  Her son’s smile vanished, and he edged closer to Rebekah. He kept her between Joshua and himself. Her yearning to laugh disappeared. Her son didn’t trust any man, and he had gut reason not to. His daed, the man he should have been able to trust most, could change from a jovial man to a brutal beast for no reason a toddler could comprehend.

  “Let’s get you in the buggy.” Joshua’s voice was strained, and his dark brown eyes narrowed as he clearly tried to understand why Sammy would shy away from him in such obvious fear.

  She wished she could explain, but she didn’t want to add to Joshua’s grief by telling him the truth about the man her husband truly had been.

  “Hold this,” he said as he ducked from under the umbrella. Motioning for his daughter to take Sammy’s hand again, he led them around the buggy. Rain struck him, but he paid no attention. He opened the door on the passenger side. “You probably want to put something on the seat to protect the fabric.”