To secure her young son’s future, widow Bethany Esch steps in to help Daniel Miller keep the store he owned with her late husband running smoothly. But she soon discovers her marriage hid a stunning secret. Though Daniel had no knowledge of her husband’s clandestine life, he’ll now do anything to help Beth. But can his steadfastness convince her to forgive—and love once more?

Brides of Lost Creek

A lifetime spent in rural Pennsylvania and her Pennsylvania Dutch heritage led MARTA PERRY to write about the Plain People, who add so much richness to her home state. Marta has seen nearly sixty of her books published, with over six million books in print. She and her husband live in a centuries-old farmhouse in a central Pennsylvania valley. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, traveling, baking or enjoying her six beautiful grandchildren.

Also By Marta Perry

Brides of Lost Creek

Second Chance Amish Bride

The Wedding Quilt Bride

The Promised Amish Bride

The Amish Widow’s Heart

An Amish Family Christmas

“Heart of Christmas”

Amish Christmas Blessings

“The Midwife’s Christmas Surprise”

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

The Amish Widow’s Heart

Marta Perry

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90617-7

THE AMISH WIDOW’S HEART

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“It’s my son’s future, Daniel,” Beth said quietly.

“So that weighs against me selling the store.” She paused, seeming to consider her decision. “If it were just my concern, I’d turn the offer down.”

Daniel nodded. That was only right. “Take your time, Beth. Talk to anyone you want. I’m not in any hurry. Whatever you decide, I won’t argue.”

“Denke.” Relief flooded her face. “I don’t want to be at odds with you. No more misunderstandings between us—it’s much better to speak honestly, yah?”

Daniel immediately thought of his promise—of the thing he should tell her but couldn’t. No. He corrected himself even as he had the thought. It wasn’t he who should tell Beth. She seemed to take his agreement for granted, so he didn’t have to speak.

An image of the life he really wanted arose in Daniel’s mind—a picture of himself and Beth together, with Benjy growing up and working beside him. But given his secret, that now seemed very far away, if not impossible...

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Lost Creek, where we’ll meet three cousins who are devoted to each other and stand by one another whatever befalls them. With faith and love, Beth, Lydia and Miriam face the future with courage, always holding their family ties close even as they search for a love that will last a lifetime.

I hope that you’ll enjoy my story and come back again for another visit to the Amish community of Lost Creek. Please let me know how you feel about this new book. You can reach me at marta@martaperry.com, at www.martaperry.com and at www.Facebook.com/martaperrybooks.

If you send me your mailing address, I’ll be happy to send you a Marta Perry bookmark and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes.

Blessings,

Marta Perry

With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

—Ephesians 4:2–3

This story is dedicated, as always,

to the love of my life, my husband, Brian.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

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

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Bethany Esch looked at her husband’s black jackets, hanging from the wooden pegs on the bedroom wall, and her heart failed her. She took a hasty step backward, bumping into the large box her cousin Lydia was carrying, and fought the panic that filled her.

Lydia dropped the box onto the double bed, catching Bethany’s arm when she would have fled from the room, her lively face sobering when she saw Bethany’s expression.

“Beth?” Lydia shook her arm lightly. “Komm now. It’s time we got busy.”

“No, I can’t. It’s too soon.”

Lydia knew her so well. Why didn’t she see that Bethany couldn’t get rid of James’s clothes? Not yet.

“It’s been over a month.” Lydia hugged her as if to soften the words, but nothing could really ease them. James was gone.

“I know it’s hard, but you’ll feel better once it’s done, and James’s things will be a blessing to someone else.”

The tears that came so easily filled Beth’s eyes. “It doesn’t feel like a month. It feels like yesterday.”

She lived it again—the township police officer coming to the door late in the evening, his face somber, his voice halting as he described the accident: the Englisch driver going too fast on the narrow road, young and careless, unable to stop when he saw the buggy light.

“I know.” Lydia’s hand stroked her back in a comforting gesture. “The accident was such a shock. That makes it much worse. But...”

Beth wiped tears away with her fingers. Lydia was right, she supposed. James’s death would be easier to face once she didn’t have constant reminders. Easier for Benjy, too, and that was the force that strengthened her spine. At four, Benjy didn’t understand, but he was beginning to accept the fact that Daadi wouldn’t be coming home anymore.

She could hear him now, giggling at something her niece Janie had said. Fourteen and the child of Beth’s oldest brother, Janie had been a treasure over the past month, showing up often to watch Benjy or take him to play with her little brothers and sister.

“Yah, okay.” She straightened, trying to find a smile. “You’re right. I certain sure can’t let Benjamin see me falling apart.”

“Gut.” Lydia gave a brisk nod of approval. “The sooner we start, the sooner we’re done. You hand things to me, and I’ll fold and pack.”

Taking the first jacket from its hook was the hardest. This was the jacket James wore for worship, and she’d always thought he looked so handsome in it, his fair hair even lighter against the black wool. She forced herself to hand it on quickly, resisting the urge to press it against her face.

Somehow, once she’d done the first one, the action became easier. She was helped along by Lydia’s constant flow of chatter, talking about the latest news running through the Amish grapevine of Lost Creek—who was harvesting a big crop of celery, hinting at a wedding soon, how her daad’s vegetable stand was doing now that fall was coming on, who had missed worship last Sunday and why. Lydia, with her lively personality and ready laugh, was a good antidote to pain.

“Did I tell you I have a letter from Miriam?” she said now. “She actually got it out quickly this time. I’ve already added my share, so you can do yours and put it in the mail.”

“I’ll try,” she said, although writing a newsy letter felt like an impossible chore just now.

Miriam Stoltzfus, the third of their trio of cousins, had moved out to Ohio to stay with an aunt and uncle several months ago, and they both missed her. Their round-robin letters weren’t a good substitute for seeing her.

The three of them had been closer than sisters since they were babies sleeping on their mammis’ laps during worship, born within weeks of each other. Better than sisters, maybe, because they didn’t have the rivalry some sisters did: Lydia, lively and mischievous; Miriam, quick and daring; and her, always trying to keep the other two out of trouble.

“You know what Grossmammi would say,” Lydia said. “Don’t try, just do it.”

Beth actually did smile over that—Lydia had caught their grandmother’s attitude perfectly. Grossmammi never shrank from any task, no matter how difficult. She had shrunk with age, and her memory might be a little misty, but nothing could quench her spirit. Would Beth ever reach that calm acceptance of what came?

With the hanging clothes packed away, Beth turned to the bureau. It was easier, she found, if she picked things up without concentrating too much on what they were and just passed them on to Lydia. The very act of doing something positive seemed to be lifting her spirits, making her pay attention to what was going on around her.

Family and church members had been in and out constantly for the past month, taking over so much that there’d been little she had to do. And Daniel, James’s partner in the general store, had taken care of everything there. She was better for something to do.

At some point she had to talk to Daniel and make some decisions about the store, but not yet.

She reached for the last few items in the drawer, her fingers touching something that wasn’t cloth. Paper crinkled under her fingers.

Curious, she pulled it out of the drawer to look at. A half sheet of paper, torn off and folded. Frowning, she flipped it open, read the few words it contained and felt her heart freeze.

Beth stared at the penciled words, trying to comprehend, but her brain felt as chilled as her heart. She forced herself to concentrate, reading the words as slowly as if they were in a language she barely knew.

I have to see you one more time. Meet me tomorrow night at the usual place. Please. Don’t fail me.

There was no signature, only a penciled heart shape. No name. No date. But the meaning was clear, wasn’t it?

“Beth? What’s wrong? Tell me.” Lydia’s arms came around her, and she sounded almost frightened. Beth knew she must look terrible. As terrible as she felt.

“I can’t.” She stammered the words out and thrust the paper toward Lydia, glad to have it out of her hand. She clung to a faint hope that Lydia would see something different in the words...something that wouldn’t shatter her heart and grind it to dust.

Lydia gasped, and then she was silent, probably trying to take it in as Beth had done.

“Maybe...” Lydia was hesitant, her blue eyes dark and troubled. “Maybe it doesn’t mean what it seems to.”

She didn’t sound as if she believed that any more than Beth did.

“What else could it mean?” Anger and pain broke through the ice that encased her. “Someone...some woman...was meeting James on the sly. The usual place—what else could that mean?”

“Maybe...” Lydia faltered, clearly trying to think of some explanation that wouldn’t hurt as much. “Well, maybe it was just someone who had a crush on James. He was attractive, and he could be charming, but it didn’t mean anything. You were the one he loved.”

She clung to the words. That was true enough, she supposed. James’s charm had been what had drawn her to him, back when they were teenagers. With his laughing eyes and his enticing smile, he’d had all the girls in a tizzy at one time or another. But he’d chosen her. He’d married her, promising to be faithful.

Something in her hardened against the pain and grief that threatened to envelop her. He’d promised to be faithful in front of God and the church.

“He was meeting this woman, whoever she was,” she said firmly. She couldn’t ignore the obvious. “That’s not an old note—the pencil marks are still dark. Besides, I cleaned everything in this drawer not that long ago.”

Her mind started to work again, remembering when that had been. Her gaze met Lydia’s. “That was no more than a week before the accident. That note wasn’t in the drawer then.”

Lydia didn’t speak. Most likely she couldn’t think of another explanation, any more than Beth could. James had been seeing another woman just before he died. It was incredible. Impossible. But it had happened.

“That night,” Beth murmured, almost speaking to herself. “He said he’d be working late in the store. What was he doing out on Owl Hollow Road? I never even thought about that...never questioned it.”

“You think it was the night the note refers to?” Lydia understood her quickly. “But you can’t be sure of that. And you can’t go around asking people.” She sounded horrified at the thought.

“No, I can’t go around asking.” Pain forced the words out as she realized what this would mean for her. “I can only go on wearing black and pretending. No one must ever know, especially not Benjy.”

No matter what she felt, she couldn’t damage Benjy’s memory of his daadi. No matter how much it cost her.

But there was one thing she could do. She could find out if Daniel knew where James had gone the night he was supposed to be working at the store. Daniel was James’s best friend as well as his partner. If anyone knew James’s secret, it was Daniel.

Daniel Miller turned from restocking the canned goods shelf to check the time. The plain round clock on the back wall of the store showed nearly four. Since they closed at five, business should be quiet for the next hour. Time for him to make the visit he’d been putting off for weeks—a visit to Bethany, James’s widow.

He still couldn’t get used to that word. Widow. They were too young to be experiencing this—it was for old people. If it affected him that way, how much harder must Beth be finding it?

Shaking off the question, he rounded the end of the shelves and approached the cash register, where Anna Fisher was taking advantage of their lack of customers to clean the glass-fronted cabinet.

“Anna?”

She glanced up, her round, youthful face responding. “Yah? Something you want me to do, Daniel?”

“Just keep an eye on things for me. I have to run an errand.” He smiled, nodding toward the battery section, where his nephew Timothy was replacing batteries in their proper bins. “And you might take a look at those shelves when Timothy finishes. Just in case.”

Anna nodded. Fourteen-year-old Timothy had been helping out for only a couple of weeks. They’d needed an extra pair of hands once James was gone.

Timothy was eager, but not always accurate. Still, Anna was responsible, not flighty like most sixteen-year-old girls, and she’d been working in the store for over a year.

“I’ll manage everything. Don’t worry.” She was obviously pleased at being left in charge, but a trace of apprehension showed. “You’ll be back to close up, yah?”

“For sure. No worries.”

He headed for the door, pausing a moment outside to admire, as always, the General Store sign. They had a good location—he and James had decided the lot between their two properties at the end of Main Street would be just right for the business that was just a dream six years ago.

They’d surmounted plenty of obstacles on the way to making the dream a reality. He’d just never thought he’d be carrying on alone, without James. Pain clenched his heart. James had been his best friend since they’d entered first grade at Creekside Amish School together.

Funny, when he stopped to think about it, that they had linked up so quickly. He was one of seven, growing up on the ninety-acre farm that spread out from the road to the ridge that overlooked the village of Lost Creek. He sometimes felt lost in the midst of siblings, and it had been startling to realize that James’s life was so different from his, even though they were part of the same church district.

James’s mother was a widow, and James her only child. They lived right in town, and at six, James had known little of the farm life that was so routine for Daniel. But still, they’d been best friends, and when James married Bethany and they bought her great-uncle’s holding and orchard, they became neighbors, as well.

The lane at the side of the store led back to Beth’s property. Daniel strode along, noticing the signs of autumn beginning to show in the yellowing fields and the bright plumes of the sumac bushes. The leaves hadn’t begun to turn yet, and the weather held sunny and warm, but the children were back in school and autumn was on the way. He could see the glint of red here and there in the apple orchard that covered the lower slopes beyond the farmhouse where Beth and little Benjamin now lived alone.

As usual, he felt a twinge at the thought of Beth. How would she manage without James? And just as important, what would she want to do about her share of the store?

He had his own ideas about that, that was for sure. He’d been Beth’s friend even longer than he’d known James, since she’d spent a lot of time at her great-uncle’s place. In fact, if she hadn’t caught James’s eye when she did, he might have been the one...

Well, there was no point in letting his thoughts stray in that direction. His task now was to do his best for Beth and her son.

As he neared the house, he caught sight of Benjy in the backyard, tossing a ball back and forth with Janie Stoltzfus, Beth’s niece. Instead of heading for the back door, he veered to join them.

“Looks like a gut game. Can I play, too?”

“Catch the ball, Daniel,” Benjy shouted, obviously pleased to have the game enlarged. With his silky straight blond hair and his round, chubby face, he still looked a little like the baby he’d been such a short time ago.

Would he have to grow up faster now that his daadi was gone? And at four, how much did Benjy actually realize about death? Daniel didn’t have any answers, but he knew that Beth would do her best to protect him. And he would, as well. He owed it to his friend.

Benjy tossed the ball short of Daniel, and he had to sprint forward to catch it.

“Benjy’s getting better all the time,” Janie said, laughter in her eyes.

Nodding, Daniel sent a soft underhand toss in Benjy’s direction. He put it right on target, and Benjy’s gratified surprise at catching it made him smile.

“I got it. Did you see, Janie? I caught it.”

“Yah, gut job,” Janie responded. “Now throw it to me.”

Benjy raised the ball to throw, dropped it and went scrambling after it. Daniel took advantage of the moment. “Is your aunt Bethany inside? I need to see her.”

“Yah. She was in the kitchen when we came out. Do you want me to go see?”

“That’s all right. I’ll find her.” With a wave, he headed for the house. He tapped lightly on the screen door and went into the mudroom, then on into the kitchen, calling out as he did.

Beth answered, sounding normal, but when she turned from the stove and Daniel saw her face, he was shocked. During the visiting and the funeral after James’s death, she’d seemed frozen, hardly aware of her surroundings. Now the ice that had encased her was gone, and he could read her loss too easily.

The gentleness had disappeared from her usually serene oval face, and her skin seemed shrunk against the bones, making her green eyes huge and tragic. Even her light brown hair had lost the curl she tried to suppress, straining back to the white kapp she wore.

He gathered his wits together and struggled to sound normal. “There’s a ball game going on in the backyard. Don’t you want to join it?”

Beth managed a smile at that, but it was a pitiful attempt. “Not just now. Can I do something for you, Daniel?”

“That’s my question. You know I’m here to help with anything you want.” He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “Can we sit down for a bit?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, coming to sit in the chair he’d pulled out while he took the one facing it. “How...how is everything at the store?”

There was nothing of interest in her voice. In fact, it seemed that all her attention was turned inward to something that obsessed her to the exclusion of everything else.

“Doing fine.” His voice sounded unnatural to him. “In fact, we need to talk about the store. I...” He stopped, shaking his head. “What’s wrong, Beth? We’re old friends, ain’t so? You can talk to me.”

A flash of something that might have been anger crossed her face and as quickly disappeared.

“Nothing.” Her voice was tart. She pressed her lips together for a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry. You were saying, about the store?”

“Yah.” He’d like to press the matter, because it seemed clear to him that even more was wrong than grief, but something told him it wouldn’t be welcomed. She was only a couple of feet away across the width of the table, but it might as well be miles.

“I wanted you to know that I’ve brought my nephew Timothy in to help out, now that James...” He stopped and started again. “We needed a little extra help. Anna’s a gut worker, but she’s young and needs direction.”

He took a breath, deciding he was going in the wrong direction. He didn’t want to pile problems on Beth, only keep her up-to-date on the store that was her livelihood.

“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know what was going on. Business is gut, and naturally your share remains the same.” He hesitated before going on with what he’d rehearsed saying.

“I thought you might want to be a little more involved now, since it’s your business, too. You could come in a few hours now and then, maybe. Or look over the books, if you want.”

She’d paid attention for a moment, but now he knew he’d lost her. She’d turned inward again, back to whatever it was that obsessed her. James’s death? Tragic as that was, he sensed there was something more going on.

He’d thought to assure her that the store was under control and possibly to interest her in taking a more active role. But that seemed to be the last thing on her mind.

“Beth.” He said her name gently, and after a moment her eyes focused on him. “It’s all right. I’ll keep on with the store the way I have been. I can see you don’t want to talk about it now.”

She nodded, putting one hand up to her forehead. “Not now,” she echoed. “We’ll talk later, yah?”

“Later.” He stood, disappointed in himself that he hadn’t found a way to help her. “Anything I can do, you know I will. I’ll see you later, then.”

But when he moved toward the door, Beth seemed to come back from wherever she’d been. “Daniel.”

He turned, eager to do something—anything—she needed.

“There’s something I need to ask you.” She hesitated, as if trying to arrange her thoughts, and he waited.

“That last night...the night of the accident.” She stopped, obviously struggling, but before he could say anything, she went on. “James said he was going to the store to do inventory.”

Now it was Daniel’s turn to collect his thoughts. Half-afraid of where she was going, he nodded. “Yah, that’s right.”

Beth had stood when he did, but now she leaned against the table, her hands planted on the top as if for support. She had always been slim as a young girl, despite having a child, but now she was almost gaunt.

“What took him away from the store? Why was he out on that road where the accident...”

She couldn’t finish it, and he had a moment to compose himself. He should have realized that at some point she’d ask that question. He should have prepared an answer. Did she suspect... No, that was impossible.

Well, he couldn’t lie to her, so maybe it was just as well he hadn’t known where James had gone that night. “I’m sorry, Beth, but I don’t know. We’d finished up, and he went outside ahead of me. I saw he had the buggy, but he was already driving out before I had a chance to say anything.”

That was the exact truth. What he’d thought...feared, even...he would keep to himself.

“You don’t know?” Her gaze was fixed on his face, her eyes enormous.

“I’m sorry.” He sought for some possibility. “We’d been talking about adding a few more crafts to the store. Maybe he was going to talk to someone about it.”

It sounded feeble, even to him. Why would James be doing that at eight o’clock in the evening?

But to his relief, Beth seemed satisfied. She nodded. Then, without a word, she turned back to the stove.

There was nothing more to say. He slipped out quietly.

It was all right, he assured himself. It had been a natural enough question for Beth to ask, once she’d gotten over the initial shock. There was no reason to think she suspected James of anything wrong.

He’d need to keep it that way. His loyalty to his friend, his deep longing to protect Beth and Benjy...everything combined to insist that whatever his suspicions, they should never be spoken.

By the time Mamm and Grossmammi arrived to take Janie home, Beth had managed to convince herself that she was calm. Unhappily, she was aware that her composure was like a thin sheet of ice, ready to shatter at the slightest breath. She forced a smile and went outside to greet her mother and grandmother. Grossmammi was already chatting with Janie and Benjy, which probably meant that she was having one of her good days, living in the present instead of the past.

“It’s gut to see you, Grossmammi.” She reached for the line to clip the harness to the hitching rail, but Janie got to it first. Benjy, very intent, helped her to latch it.

Her mother slid down, not waiting for a helping hand, and landed lightly on her feet. With her rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, she didn’t look like the mother of five.

They both reached up to help Grossmammi down. She pressed her cheek against Beth’s for a moment, but her attention was on her great-grandchildren.

“My, you two look as if you’ve been having a fine time. What have you been doing?”

“We played ball. Daniel did, too. And we gathered the eggs,” Benjy said. “I found three.”

“Gut job.” Grossmammi patted his cheek. “How many did Janie find?”

It was apparent that number was beyond him, so Janie helped him out, whispering the number in his ear.

“Eight,” he said proudly.

“We’ll have scrambled eggs for breakfast, ain’t so?” Bethany was pleased that she was able to sound almost normal. She glanced from her grandmother to her mother with a question in her face, but Mammi could only shrug, probably meaning it was hard to tell how long her grandmother would stay grounded.

Mammi lifted a basket down from under the buggy seat. “Who wants a whoopie pie?”

“Me, me!” Benjy bounced up and down, and Janie looked as if she would as well, if not for remembering that she was fourteen now.

“Let’s go in and fetch a napkin, and then you two can have yours out on the porch while Mammi gets us grown-ups a cup of coffee.”

Beth put an arm around her grandmother as they walked into the house together with Mammi following. It took only a few minutes to settle the kinder with juice and whoopie pies. Then the adults gathered at the table with their treat.

Grossmammi watched as she nibbled at the edge of hers. “Better eat it,” she said. “You’ve lost too much weight in the past month.”

“Yah.” She couldn’t deny it, since the bodice of her dress hung loose on her. “I don’t have much appetite.”

“Natural enough,” Mammi said. “But you must try. Take a real bite now.”

12 3 İz.

The Amish Widow's Heart

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Note to Readers

Chapter One

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