Whoopie Pie Bakers: Volume Eight: An Amish Wedding Read online

  Whoopie Pie Bakers

  Volume Eight: Amish Romance

  By

  Sicily Yoder

  DUTCH FARM BOOKS

  ~*~

  Copyright 2012 by DUTCH FARM BOOKS. All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form either written or electronically without the express permission of the author or publisher. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are therefore used fictitiously. Any similarity or resemblance to the actual persons; living or dead, places or events are purely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publisher.

  Photos courtesy of Photo Bucket, I Stock, vso@BigStock and , Paha_L@BigStock, and the author. Scriptures were taken from the KJV.

  “For me and my house, we shall serve the Lord.”

  WHOOPIE PIE BAKERS

  9 VOLUME SERIAL

  Volume 1: Silvery Snowflakes on Lancaster

  Volume 2:Kneeling to Heaven

  Volume 3: Amish Heart

  Volume 4: Heavenly Homecoming

  Volume 5: Special Friends

  Volume 6: A Change of Heart

  Volume 7: Amish Forgiveness

  Volume 8: An Amish Wedding

  Volume 9: Amish Romance

  Other Books by Sicily Yoder

  Amish Blizzards

  Amish Winter Love

  An Amish Winter Surprise

  An Autumn Wind in Walnut Creek

  Amish Garden: 50 Slow Cooker Recipes

  Christmas in Sugarcreek

  Frontier Kisses

  Heaven Driven

  White Christmas Fudge

  Whoopie Pie Bakers

  TABLE ON CONTENTS

  ~DEDICATION~

  ~AMISH WORDS~

  ~CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT~

  ~CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE~

  ~CHAPTER THIRTY~

  ~CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE~

  ~DEDICATION~

  To my fellow Christian authors. You inspire me. To Christ for loving me enough to die for my sins. To my family, who puts up with Papa John’s pizza on nights that I am on deadline. To Hertz Rental Car, who provides my car rental needs for research for my books. To my author friends who have helped in critiquing, book cover and interior layout feedback, and just being there to chat with me on Facebook. To my former Kentucky State Trooper friend, Gene Stratton, for being there for me after my car wreck. No book tours would take place without you.

  ~AMISH WORDS~

  Danki, Thank You

  Fraa, wife

  Schwester, sister

  Bruder, brother

  Haus, house

  Milich Haus, milk house

  Schwester, Sister

  Gut, Good

  Wunderbar, wonderful

  Grossmammi, Grandmother

  Grossdaedi, Grandfather

  Jah, Yes

  Gut Mariye, Good Morning

  Gut Nacht, good Night

  Gott, God

  Boppli, baby

  Kinner, children

  Menner, men

  Vorsinger, the Man who leads the song service at church

  Uffgevva, to give up ego to trust in God’s will

  Wie bist du heit, It is nice to meet you

  Wasser, water

  Blaeckbier, blackberry

  Dach-weggeli, wagon

  Schuldiner, debtor

  Shtill hokka, member meeting

  Chite, fit in morals

  Du dosht nelt, you may not

  Ich glie de, I love you

  Mamm, Mother

  Daed, Dad

  ~CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT~

  “Ms. Miller, how are you feeling?” A white-bearded doctor with compassionate grey eyes leaned over the bed, stared at her, his white lab coat reflecting the four sterile walls of the hospital room that surrounded her for the evening. He continued examining her when she didn’t reply as if he expected her to be groggy from her nap.

  She was. From the shock of death.

  Mamm and Emma died.

  The words rang loud in her head, cold like a frosty January chill that often blanketed Lancaster County’s rolling hills and picturesque Amish farms. There was nothing wunderbar about what had happened, even the raging fire at Gina’s haus. Today had been bitter, one winter day that the tight-knit Amish community would never forget.

  Esther’s eyelids flickered. “I feel fine enough to go home.” Hospitals always made her edgy, out of control. Today had been one of those days, spiraled out of reality. I have Jacob to care for me. A warm smile etched across her face, and she felt blood gush to her cheeks. “This young man has promised to help me.” She nodded towards him, and he nodded back, drew a compassionate gaze.

  “Looks like you have a good fellow here to nurse you back to health,” the Doctor said in a pleasing tone as he slid his black-framed bifocals back up onto his nose. “You’re a lucky girl.”

  Esther blushed, offered a humble reply, “God has blessed me.”

  The thick lines between the doctor’s forehead creased, and he shook his head as if her faith in God fascinated him. “Your community looks for the good, not the bad, in any situation. I admire your faith.”

  Esther held back her grunt, forced a peaceful smile. Faith? The sudden loss shattered her faith, and she fidgeted with her hands under the white hospital sheet. Who would blame her? Losing one’s mamm and baby schwester, then having a man who cheated on you by your side as if all was well would rattle anyone’s confidence. She had the right to be uneasy.

  Jacob had sensed her restlessness. “Doctor, I will make her a pot of hot tea when I get her home, then I’ll let her be alone and get the rest she needs. She has older sisters to help her.” He fused his eyes with Esther’s eyes, gave an empathetic smile. “I don’t think she is too happy in this this hospital bed.”

  A chuckle came from deep within the doctor’s chest. “No one ever is.” He smiled gingerly. “It’s my job to get them out of here, back into their own beds as soon as possible.” He gazed down at Esther. “I’ll write your orders right away, and you’ll be home within the hour.”

  Awesome! Esther forced back her distressed mood, offered a jolly tone. “Home is where the heart is!” Her eyelids flickered as she fought back tears of sorrow. Mamm and Emma are dead. Life would never be the same. Could she lean on Jacob?

  The doctor had been convinced. “That’s a strong attitude, Young Lady. You’ll heal in no time.” He ran his right hand through his white beard. “I sure wish all patients had the same optimism.” Humor returned, and his belly juggled. “But I would be out of a job if that were true.”

  Esther giggled. The doctor’s friendly, jolly tone lifted her spirits. Hopefully, Jacob would do the same. She hated to admit it, but her fingers yearned to run through Jacob’s thick hair, her throbbing head desired to rest against his chest once more.

  In the truck. Needing him. Resting her troubles in his arms. The Englisch way.

  But he would soon be Amish, and he’d sold the truck. But he was still the same man who held her when she was brokenhearted. In a forbidden truck or an allowed buggy, he still had the same strong, warm arms, the same scent of fresh lavender soap, the kind his mamm made, sold in batches. He was special, even if he made her mad from time to time.

  The doctor turned, walked out of the room, and Jacob scooted the metal chair closer to the bed. Esther lifted up, her mind on Gina, but she hesitated to let him know. Was Gina really dead too?

  He had read her mind, sensed her lack of faith in him. “I know I let you down before, broke your heart, but that was then, and this is now.” His ey
es fused with hers, searched for understanding, but she looked away.

  “Jacob, what I need is for you to be here for me this time, ignore your own needs, and focus on me.” She looked back towards him, cupped her hands over her weeping face. Gently and genuinely, he rubbed her knotty shoulders, then slid his fingertips across her hands until she lowered them, cut her eyes towards his eyes. Slowly, he wiped her tears away.

  He has it this time, thought Esther, as she tried to stop the water from running down her face. “You are with me, aren’t you, Jacob, Jah?” A light smile kissed her ruby red lips. “I really needed you when Emma was missing.” She looked down. “And, now, she is —”

  Jacob tapped his warm finger against her lips, whispered warmly, “With God, right?” He knew the right words. “What a glorious day when you see your sister again in heaven. You’ll look forward to it, right?” His warmhearted glare consoled her, something she’d needed when he’d held her in his pick-up, faked his love.

  It was real this time, and it felt gut to be loved. “I can tell you really want to be Amish this time. You’re focused on a heavenly reward, not an earthly one, Jacob.” She sniffled, and he turned, got her some tissues. “Danki, Jacob.” She blotted what tears were left on her hot face. “Heaven is all that matters, and I’ve been praying for your soul, Jacob.”

  “Praying?” He seemed shocked to hear the news. “For me?”

  Esther nodded. “Jah, I worried about the world caving in on you like it did on–you know–my late bruder, Raymond.”

  “He died a saved man, so why do you say otherwise?” Jacob asked, and she shook her head in denial.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Who really knows what went through his mind when the pastor held his hand.”

  “He said the sinner’s prayer.” Jacob cupped his hands over hers. “So he was saved.”

  “I might agree, but he didn’t live his life as he should until that moment, when it was almost too late.” Her hands trembled, and he rubbed his hands over hers, trying to soothe her restlessness.

  She liked his ability to comfort her, but she wouldn’t admit it. She fought to get a point across and sensed that he lacked an attentive ear, so she turned to comparison, a tactic Daed always used. “Which is better, a man who leans on Gott every day and follows Christ, or a man who lives a wild life, then has a slight chance to lean on Gott moments before he leaves this world, halfheartedly accepting Christ?”

  He seemed embarrassed to see she was right. “I guess–the first one–would be better, they’d be more assured of going to the right place.”

  Delight entered her chest. “So I was correct that you need to serve the Lord, not desert him until you’re on your deathbed?” She grinned, waited for the thrill of victory.

  “Yes, you had a good point.” He ran his hand through his thick hair, his mind deep in thought. “I hope Gina served God.”

  His mention of her contender upset her, but to her surprise, her chest experienced a sudden heavy-heartedness for Gina’s soul. “We won’t know, but we can hope, Jacob, and that is why I worry about your salvation.” She lowered her head. “It’s disheartening to see someone I care about live a reckless life.” She looked for understanding and smiled when she found it in his eyes. “I’m glad you realize how important this is.”

  “I followed Mother, and it was the most stupid mistake I ever made,” he said flatly, his brow wrinkling. He shook his head in dismay. “You’d expect a mother to make wise choices for her children.” He looked towards the opposite wall as if his words embarrassed him.

  Esther’s heart ached for Jacob, and she saw his disobedience to The Ordnung in a different light. She’d blamed his exodus on his own freewill when there was more to the story.

  Lots more.

  Would he open up to her? She extended her right hand, cupped her palm down on his laced hands. Would he welcome the support?

  He did. He angled his gaze towards her, hesitant to level his teary eyes with hers until he unlaced his hands, gripped his strong hands around her shaky hands. “You’re hands are like ice. I’ll be sure to feed the stove when I get you home.” He scooted the chair closer, stopping when the metal edge bumped the bed railing. “Would you like me to ask the nurse to get you an extra blanket?”

  His generosity stunned her. Her comfort meant more than his troubles. He never elaborated about his mamm, although Esther yearned to hear more. She thought about probing him, but backed away from the idea when she saw his face grimace.

  “Real men don’t cry in front of a nice lady like you. I need to keep my problems at bay.” He sighed, then shook his head. “I let my guard down.”

  “Because you can talk to me, share your feelings?” She etched the top of her index knuckle up, wiggled it against his palm. He lowered his grip as if he wanted the gesture. She continued moving her knuckles against the warmness of his palm. “You like that, don’t you?” She increased the speed of her fingers, felt the heat from his hand. She wondered if he felt the fervency that she felt when he held her close under a raging storm of snow, or a harsh coldness and yearning to pull away.

  He grinned as a lone tear flowed down his left cheek, and she reached up and wiped it away. For minutes, they enjoyed the embrace, treasured the bonding of friends.

  Maybe special friends, if Esther had her way. Gina is out of the picture now. Remorse followed her words, and she reminded herself that she had to meet Gina face-to-face one last time.

  At her funeral.

  To say goodbye. No more competitions. No more hurt feelings from the lies. No more conflict. Only forgiveness.

  ~CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE~

  “Can I lift up now?” Gina asked as she felt a cramp in her neck. She couldn’t believe that the coroner, who was her other special friend, had helped her pull off such an unusual exodus from Amish Country. “Well?” She groaned, lifted up out of the back seat as they were nearing the interstate. “I asked if all was clear,” she huffed, wiping the sweat off her brow. “Thanks for ignoring me.”

  “What are you going to do about him?” the driver asked in a concerned tone as he glanced up in his rearview mirror. “Will you ever tell him you faked your own death with a gasoline accident?”

  Gina grimaced. “Of course not, he’s an Amishman, and I am tired of being Amish.” She blew out hot air, and a wrathful energy filled the minivan. “The coroner and I are starting a new life in Kentucky as soon as he is done with his term.” She reached up and brushed her silky bangs back beneath her ears, drew a confident gaze. “That is why he didn’t seek reelection. I am too important.”

  “So the special friend–what’s his name–Jacob?” The driver made a right-hand turn onto the rain-slick entrance ramp, shook his head. “I am bad with names.”

  “Well you got that one right, and please don’t mention his name again. He flaunted his love for Esther in front of me, made me cry myself to sleep.” She stewed as the van entered the bustling highway. “He got what he deserved.” She crossed her arms, craned her neck to view his response.

  She’d convinced him. “It’s quite rude for a young man to break a lady’s heart.” He sighed. “I can understand why you and the coroner are headed south. So are they going to have a closed casket?”

  How dumb. Of course, it would be closed. She wasn’t dead. Nonetheless, persuasion felt good, for the more people on her side, the better she looked. How would her closed casket look at the viewing? Would Jacob shed tears for her? She made a mental note to have the coroner subscribe to The Budget to read about her funeral.

  And the marriage of Jacob to someone other than Esther. One day. Soon. Victory, oh how sweet!

  The driver had noticed her weariness and refusal to answer about the casket. “You’re getting a little quiet back there.” He shifted lanes, glanced up in the mirror as if he welcomed chatty conversation.

  What was there to talk about? She branched out into the world she desired with an Englischer, and a gut one at that, so that’s how it was. Nothing interesting. Not
hing the driver needed to know. The whole world would involve around her, and it’s how she wanted it.

  The driver sensed the need to halt his words, reached down, and turned the radio on. The music was heavy, odd for an Amish woman to understand. If Gina told the truth, the loud sounds hurt her head, but she preferred bad music to a lengthy conversation with a stranger any day.

  She leaned back into the seat, closed her eyes for a quick nap, but the van hit a pothole, jarring her from her rest. “Please watch out for holes. I am a light sleeper,” Gina demanded, and the driver nodded.

  The misty rain transitioned to white pebbles of ice as it fell against the asphalt. Sloping countryside of sleeping pines extended to the horizon on both sides of the road, which made the driving boring.

  Jacob missed a great adventure by two-timing her. He believed her story about Esther, and Gina hoped the news angered him enough to break off his friendship with the contender.

  Success felt sweeter than she expected, and she awaited the news of Esther becoming a spinster. No husband. No kinner. No happiness. Gina’s fingers wiggled with delight, her mind assuring herself she implemented the perfect plan of revenge.

  Red lights flickered and sirens erupted behind the van just as the van hit another pothole, spun out of control, then hit a tree.

  There would be no survivors in the van as the fire chief slammed on his breaks, did a donut on the icy road, before coming to a halt at the bottom of the hill. His mission to bring those responsible for a fiery blaze to interrogation failed. Two were gone, and one wouldn’t be prosecuted. No fire chief turned against his brother. Ever.

  ~CHAPTER THIRTY~

  It seemed like an eternity for the nurse to return to the room, discharge papers in hand. “Doctor has ordered lots of rest,” she said warmly. “I’m sure your faith will help you through this as will the bishop’s brother.”