Amish Generations Read online

  Dedication

  To James. I love you.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Young Love Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Long-Awaited Love Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Second-Chance Love Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Never Too Late Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Discussion Questions

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Acclaim for Kathleen Fuller

  Other Books by Kathleen Fuller

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Sugarcreek, Ohio

  “Johnnie, you stop that right now,” Fern Gingerich called to her seven-year-old charge. She didn’t know what he planned to do with the pillowcase in his hands as he chased his five-year-old brother, Leroy—and she didn’t want to find out. When the two boys made another circle in the living room, she grabbed both the pillowcase and Johnnie, immediately letting go of his arm as she blocked his way. “I meant what I said. Stop.”

  Johnnie looked up at her with vibrant, dark-blue eyes that reminded her of his onkel Dan, his face the picture of innocence. “I was just playin’ around, Fern.”

  “He was gonna put that pillowcase over mei head.” Leroy kept his distance on the other side of the room as if unsure whether his brother would go after him again.

  “Nee, I wasn’t,” Johnnie said, punctuating the point with a shake of his head.

  “Ya, you were.” Leroy scowled at him. “You’ve done it before.”

  Fern put two fingers against her temple and pressed against the throbbing point. Normally she could manage Johnnie and Leroy, but today she was having an arthritis flare, and all she wanted to do was lie down on the Klines’ couch and take a nap. But she was here to babysit Alvin and Iva’s children, and that’s what she was going to do.

  “How about we sit down and listen to a story?” she said.

  “I wanna geh outside and play.” Leroy scooted to the couch and climbed onto the back of it, then pointed out the picture window to the deep snow that covered the ground.

  “Me too.” Johnnie scrambled to perch next to him, and they both stared longingly out the window. The latest snowfall—the second one today, which wasn’t unusual for January in Sugarcreek—had stopped half an hour ago. It also wasn’t unusual for two young boys to want to play in the snow.

  “Maybe in a little while.” Fern’s legs felt heavy as she stashed the pillowcase under the pile of magazines in the rack that also doubled as an end table. She made a mental note to retrieve it so Iva or Alvin wouldn’t find a surprise there.

  “But we want to geh now,” the boys said in unison.

  Fern stepped to the couch and looked out the window too. The blue curtains were drawn back to let more light into the living room, and cold air seeped through the glass. The boys didn’t seem to care, but Fern shivered. “Look,” she said, trying to distract them from wanting to go outside. “See the cardinal on top of that snowdrift?”

  “The red bird by the driveway?” Leroy swiped his nose with the back of his hand.

  “Ya.”

  “That’s a male cardinal.” At Leroy’s questioning look, she added, “It’s a bu. And did you know the males are the only ones that sing?”

  “Who cares?” Johnnie climbed down from the couch and left the living room.

  Fern sighed. Normally it was the youngest child in the family who needed close supervision, but in this case, the roles were reversed. “C’mon, Leroy. Let’s find yer bruder before he gets into something else.”

  “I like cardinals,” he said as she took his small hand. He was meeker and calmer than his older brother, but not by much.

  “Me too.”

  They moved in the direction Johnnie had taken and found him in the mudroom, putting on his boots.

  “Excuse me,” she said. She might be exhausted and having a bit of brain fog, but she would not put up with disrespect. “I never said you could geh outside.”

  “But I want to make a snowman.”

  Fern crouched in front of him and touched his boot. When he looked her in the eye, she said, “Take this off. Now.”

  “Aww.” Johnnie pulled off the boot and then stuck out his lower lip. “I’m bored.”

  “Nee kidding,” she muttered, although she was thankful she had won the battle of wills this time. Fern had arrived at the Klines’ after school let out to watch the boys while Alvin and Iva traveled to a doctor’s appointment in Akron. Fern didn’t normally babysit for them, but when Iva mentioned she needed a sitter at lunch after church last Sunday, Fern volunteered. She’d thought it odd that no one else at the table offered. Then again, she’d forgotten what a handful Johnnie was. He wasn’t a bad kid, but he did have a short attention span, and as she was finding out, a stubborn streak.

  But she was glad she’d agreed to babysit. Because Alvin went with Iva to her appointment, Fern thought she might be pregnant with their third child. If she was, the two of them would definitely have their hands full, if they didn’t already.

  “Fern?” Leroy tugged at the sleeve of her navy-blue sweater. “Is Johnnie in trouble?”

  “Nee.” She could forgive a little cabin fever, and Johnnie had complied with her request when she was stern with him.

  “He gets in trouble a lot,” Leroy said.

  “Be quiet,” Johnnie snapped. He set the boot down and stood. “Why can’t we geh outside?”

  Because I can barely keep mei eye on you two inside. But she couldn’t say that out loud. She wasn’t about to admit any weakness to Johnnie Kline. He would take that information and run with it. She looked into the boys’ expectant eyes. “We can’t geh outside because I have a cold. And it’s not gut to be outside in the cold when you have, uh, a cold.”

  God, forgive me for fibbing. But a fib was easier than telling the children her rheumatoid arthritis was acting up. They wouldn’t believe her anyway. More than once she’d heard, “Isn’t that an old person’s disease?” It wasn’t always, but right now she felt like she was eighty-four instead of twenty-four.

  “You don’t sound like you have a cold.” Johnnie pinched his nose. “You should sound like this.”

  “Ya,” Leroy said, imitating his brother, as he often did. “Like this.”

  Fern herded the boys from the chilly mudroom into the kitchen. “How about some hot chocolate and a cookie? Then I’ll read you a story.”

  “I guess,” Johnnie said.

  The boys plopped into chairs next to each other and then watched Fern make the hot chocolate, which was more like lukewarm chocolate so they wouldn’t burn their tongues. She poured it into sturdy plastic cups, then cut a sugar cookie in half, no doubt a leftover treat from Christmas. When she turned around the boys were pinching each other.

  “Ow!” Johnnie said, then gave Leroy a pinch.

  “Ow!” But Leroy laughed and pinched Johnnie again.

  Fern had seen this game before. It was all fun until someone pinched too hard. Sh
e hurriedly put the cocoa and cookie halves in front of the boys. Then she dropped into a chair so she could rest while they had their snack. She glanced at the clock. Three. Alvin and Iva wouldn’t be back for an hour or two. How was she going to keep these boys occupied for that long?

  She heard a knock on the front door. “You two stay here.” She started for the living room, then paused and moved Leroy’s chair, with Leroy still in it, and his snack out of Johnnie’s reach. Better safe than sorry. Then she hurried to answer the door. When she opened it, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Dan Kline, all six feet two inches of him. He wasn’t just the boys’ uncle. He was her secret crush.

  But that had been years ago. Okay, months ago. All right, she’d never fully stopped liking him, not even when he dated Miriam Lapp last year. But then they’d broken up when Miriam moved to Ashtabula with her family, and Fern’s crush had intensified. Which was foolish, because Dan had never shown an inkling of interest in her.

  She’d seen him at the feedstore yesterday while she was helping her father pick up food for their pigs. That exertion could be the reason she was so tired today, but she couldn’t just stand there and not give her father a hand. Not in front of Dan. And then, like right now, her pulse had thrummed. That wasn’t good at all.

  “Hi,” he said, taking off his woolen cap and shaking the snow from it. His striking eyes, childishly cute on Johnnie but mesmerizing on Dan, met hers. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  Act casual. “I’m babysitting,” she said, opening the door wider and forcing her heart rate to slow down.

  “My condolences.” But he winked as he spoke, which sent Fern’s heart into overdrive again. She leaned against the door, which caused it to move a few inches, setting her off-balance.

  He reached out and lightly touched her arm to steady her. “You all right?”

  “Fine,” she squeaked. So much for casual.

  When Dan stepped inside, the boys burst into the living room, squealing as they ran to him. “Onkel Dan, can we geh outside and make a snowman?” Leroy said as he bounced on his tiptoes.

  “Fern won’t geh with us.” Johnnie gave her a surly look before turning a pleading one on his uncle.

  “I’m sure there’s a gut reason for that.” He turned to Fern and shut the door behind him. “Have you been here all day?”

  “Just since school let out.” She hoped she didn’t look as tired as she felt. She also hoped neither boy would repeat her fib about having a cold.

  Dan grinned. “Then you deserve a break.” He put his cap back on his head of thick, honey-blond hair and looked down at his nephews. “Get yer coats and boots on, and we’ll make the biggest snowman anyone’s ever seen.”

  “Yay!” The boys sounded equally excited, and she couldn’t blame them.

  They all made their way to the mudroom, where the boys scrambled to get their boots on as Fern took their small coats from the hooks hanging by the door. She knelt and helped Leroy into his, then took a clean handkerchief out of her apron pocket and wiped the sugar cookie crumbs from his round little face. She always kept one or two handkerchiefs in her pockets when she babysat, just in case.

  The boys were ready to go when Dan looked at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

  A part of her did. There was a time when she could build snowmen and chase after young boys and not feel exhausted. Fortunately, some days she still could, but today was not one of them. “You buwe geh. I have a living room to clean up.”

  He nodded, then the three of them swept out into the cold.

  Fern shut the back door and leaned her head against it. Thank you, Lord, for Dan coming over. Her quick prayer had nothing to do with her crush on him. Talk about an unexpected blessing. Hopefully he would tire out the boys before they returned.

  She went into the living room and looked around at the mess of toys, crayons, coloring books, and regular books that littered the floor. She had to clean all this, but first she needed to rest for a few minutes. She sat down on the edge of the couch, then stretched out on it, her joints aching. She closed her eyes. Just for a few minutes . . .

  * * *

  Dan was more than happy to build a snowman with his nephews this afternoon. He just hadn’t expected to have the opportunity. Today he’d finished with his last farrier customer, and since the man lived near his brother, he’d decided to ask Alvin what he was talking about at church last week when he mentioned a special project he wanted Dan to help with. Instead of Alvin, though, he found a weary Fern Gingerich and two young boys with obvious cabin fever. He felt a little sorry for her. He loved his nephews, but they both, especially Johnnie, always seemed to have ants in their pants.

  This afternoon was no exception. Once they made half the snowman, the boys grew disinterested and wanted to make a snow fort. Dan suggested they make the fort around the snowman, and by the time they finished, Leroy was shivering. “Time to geh inside,” Dan said, putting his mitten-covered hands over Leroy’s red cheeks to warm them.

  “But we still have to finish the snowman,” Johnnie said.

  “Y-ya,” Leroy said. “W-we h-have to f-finish.”

  He had to admire their dedication. “You can,” Dan said, smiling as he scooped up the smaller boy. “Tomorrow.”

  “Will you be here tomorrow?” Johnnie said, plowing through the wall of a snow fort that would fall over in a strong wind.

  “Nee.”

  “Aww.” Johnnie kicked at the snow. “Why?”

  “Because I have work to do.” They trudged through the snow and into the house, where Dan let the back door close behind them and then set Leroy down. Expecting Fern to show up any second, he started helping Leroy out of his wet coat and boots while Johnnie got out of his. But by the time Dan had taken off his own boots and coat, Fern was still nowhere to be seen.

  “Fern?” he called when he entered the kitchen. Silence.

  Johnnie had already taken off for the living room. Dan and Leroy started to follow but halted when Johnnie rushed back. “She’s on the couch,” he said. “I think she’s asleep.”

  Dan smiled. He wasn’t that surprised. She’d looked in rough shape when he arrived. He put his fingers to his lips and then tiptoed to the living room, the boys imitating him. Sure enough, Fern was sound asleep, one arm dangling from the edge of the couch, her lips parted a tiny bit.

  A little fascinated, he moved in for a closer look. He’d known Fern his whole life. They’d both been born in this community, they were the same age, and they’d attended school together all the way through eighth grade. She had been shy and a little on the mousy side, with the darkest hair of any girl he’d ever seen—along with the longest eyelashes. Her lashes captured his attention again as they rested against the top of her cheeks. She looked so peaceful, and, he had to admit, pretty.

  Her attractive appearance was something else he’d noticed lately, which baffled him. After all, he’d sworn off interest in women—for a long, long time. That plan had been working for him, but for the past month he’d caught himself paying more and more attention to Fern. When he saw her at the feedstore yesterday, he’d felt a tug of attraction. More like a hard yank, if he was being honest—something more intense than he’d felt with Miriam despite dating her for several months.

  “Onkel Dan, why are you staring at Fern?”

  Fern’s eyes, soft and chestnut brown, flew open. Then they grew round with alarm, and she bolted straight up. “Did I fall asleep?”

  “Ya,” Leroy said, biting the tip of his finger.

  “And Onkel Dan was staring at you,” Johnnie added.

  Dan gave him a stern look. Johnnie was not only full of energy; he was smart, observant, and at times, like now, annoying. “You two get to picking up those toys. You’ve made a mess in here.”

  They both nodded and started working. Fern jumped from the couch and joined them. “Sorry,” she said, grabbing a box of crayons and a coloring book. Then she pulled a pillowcase out from the magazine rac
k. That was a little weird, but he didn’t ask any questions. “I should have had all this picked up by now,” she added as she made her way around the room, straightening items as she went.

  Dan noticed the boys had started playing with a toy car. He’d given it to Johnnie three Christmases ago, but they were acting like they’d never seen it before—a classic stalling technique.

  “Fern,” he said as he stepped to her side. He wasn’t sure why he thought she needed reassurance. He just did. “It’s fine. They’re old enough to pick up their own stuff.”

  “But I’m the babysitter.” She looked up at him, dark circles under her eyes. Then she knelt in front of the bookcase, wincing.

  First she’d stumbled by the front door, now she seemed to be in some pain. “Are you okay?” Dan asked.

  “I’m fine.” She righted some of the books, then popped up like she was a jack-in-the-box. She turned and smiled. “Just great.”

  The under-eye circles and second wince told a different story, but his attention unwittingly shifted gears. Had she always had such a lovely smile? If so, why hadn’t he noticed it until now?

  He heard the back door open, and so did the boys, who immediately took off. He followed them into the mudroom to see his brother and Iva standing there.

  “Hey, Dan,” Alvin said, his cheeks red from the cold. He frowned. “I must have forgotten you were coming today.”

  “You didn’t forget.” He explained as the boys swirled around Iva’s legs, clamoring for her attention as she managed to remove her bonnet and coat.

  “Gotcha,” Alvin said as he sat down to remove his boots.

  Fern looked in from the kitchen doorway. “Hello. Did yer trip geh all right?”

  Dan didn’t miss the loving look Alvin and Iva exchanged before they told Fern that, yes, the trip to Akron had been great. Alvin, who hated cities, would visit Akron for only one reason—because their obstetrician was there. His brother was having another kid. That would be nice . . . for Alvin. Dan loved his nephews, but he wasn’t in any hurry for marriage or kids.