Elijah And The Widow (Lancaster County Weddings 4) (16 page)

Epilogue

Happiness,
Pennsylvania
Eleven months later

E
li Lapp examined the pony cart with a critical eye. Abram Peachy’s daughter Rose Ann had driven the carriage into a ditch along the front side of her father’s property. Fortunately for Rosie—and Abram—neither the child nor the horse was hurt. However, the same couldn’t be said for the cart’s front right wheel.

He pulled out his measuring tape to gauge the wheel size. He took note of the measurement with satisfaction. He had the right size in stock. He would change the wheel and check over every inch of the vehicle to make sure everything was fixed and safe. Lapp’s Buggy Shop
had been open for business for almost a year now, and he would never rush a job and risk a customer’s safety. Serving his community gave Eli a deep sense of satisfaction, as did his marriage to Martha. He smiled as he thought of his wife, which he did nearly every second of every day. She was the constant joy in his life, and he was pleased to know that she was as happy in their marriage as he was.

A quick glance at the wall clock in his work area confirmed that it was lunchtime. He smiled. He could change the wheel and walk home to enjoy his wife’s delicious cooking before finishing his workday. Eli stuck a wooden wedge under the bent wheel, raising it off the ground. Then, using tools of his trade, he removed it, set it aside and went to find the correct replacement, which he slipped on and fastened properly. Satisfied with the work, he washed his face and hands in the sink. He locked the front door, hung the out-to-lunch sign, then exited by the back, locked up and headed toward home.

Home was the three-bedroom cottage a short distance from the shop. He paused a moment to gaze happily at Noah’s furniture business next door. It had been Noah’s idea to build Eli’s business close to his, and it had been a good one. Living near each other, Martha and Rachel had become fast friends. He saw no sign of Noah or Rachel, so he strode the rest of the way to the house his family had built for Martha and him. It was comfortable, cozy and just what they needed. White siding with no shutters, it wasn’t a house; it was their home.

“Martha?” he called as he entered through their back door.

To Eli’s delight, she came from the direction of their gathering room, her eyes lighting up with pleasure when she saw him.

“You’re home!” She glided close, a lovely vision of impending motherhood. It was the early stages of her pregnancy, but he could see her small belly bump, see the joy of carrying their child that radiated from her pretty features. During their courtship, she’d confided about her fear that she couldn’t conceive and how she’d blamed herself for not giving Ike a son. With the Lord’s help, he’d been able to convince her that, child or not, he would love her for always.

Eli met her halfway and opened his arms, and she slid into his embrace as if she’d been longing for it. As he pressed his face against her forehead, he inhaled her fragrance, her homemade soap scented with a hint of chocolate and the ever-present smell he loved the most—the sweet scent of her. He could feel her heart beating wildly. He heard the soft exhalation and inhalation of her breath, and he silently offered to the Lord another prayer of thanks. He continued to thank Him every day.

Martha pulled away from his arms and he immediately let her go. “You’re home early.”

He smiled. “
Nay
, love. I’m late.” He wondered what she’d been doing. “Working on the quilt for our baby?”

“
Ja
,
it will take me until she’s born to finish it.”

He raised his eyebrow. “She?”

She grinned. “Or he? It doesn’t matter as long as our child is healthy.”

“Amen,” he murmured.

He reached for her hand, pulled her gently toward the door. “Come with me,” he urged.

“Where?” she asked as she trustingly followed his lead.

“To the shop.”

She frowned. “Didn’t
ya
just come from there?”

“
Ja
, love, but there is something new I want to show you.”

She gazed at him affectionately as he led her the short distance. He smiled at her obvious curiosity.

“Bob Whittier said there have been youngsters breaking into shops,” he said as he unlocked the back entrance. “Could be just a prank, but I don’t want to take chances.”

Gazing at her husband, Martha placed a hand against her belly, the fluttery feeling she was having had nothing to do with their unborn child. Eli always affected her like that. She’d never realized that married life could be this good. She’d had a calm and safe, if declining, marriage with Ike, but with Eli, her husband’s attention thrilled her like nothing else on this earth.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered into her ear.

She obeyed and felt a tingling from the nape of her neck downward.

“Careful now as we go inside,” he warned softly, lovingly, as he steered her carefully through the open door. “We’re heading to the side room.”

“May I open my eyes yet?” Excitement pulsed through her veins, heightening her awareness of him. Eli was always doing special things for her.

The room was the smallest in the building; she’d been inside many times since the shop was built. Eli stopped her and released her hand to place his arm around her shoulders. “There,” he said with satisfaction. “Open your eyes.”

She did. “Oh my.” Two wooden chests, one large enough to hold an adult’s clothing, the other the same style but much smaller as one might have for a child...or a baby, stood before her.

“Oh, Eli...” Her eyes filled with tears. “You made these for us. How did you find the time?”

“Noah’s shop is across the parking lot. I’d slip over for an hour or two each day to work on them.” She met his gaze, saw him studying her with intensely bright blue eyes. “You like them?”

“I love them.” She sniffed, and tears trickled down her checks.

He frowned. “Then why are you crying?”

“These are happy tears, husband.”

His whole body seemed to sigh with relief. Following him outside, Martha waited while he locked the building before reaching for her hand. They headed toward their cottage. Eli stopped suddenly, tugged on her hand to stop her. “Look,” he said, pointing.

She followed the direction of his gaze and smiled. A family of red foxes with baby cubs played in the grass along the edge of their property. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered, understanding his excitement.

“They’re a family, like we are,” Eli said. He slipped his arm about her waist and drew her closer. “We are truly blessed.”

Martha felt small, delicate and truly loved.
“Ja.”

“I love you, Martha.”

“I know.” She grinned at him, and he returned his attention to the fox family. She enjoyed the companionable silence between them, felt her love for Eli down to her soul. “I love you, Eli.”

His handsome features lit up like a child’s who’d been offered his favorite treat. “Thanks be to
Gott
.”

Then together they crossed the yard, entered their humble home and went on to enjoy a life of laughter and love by the grace of the good Lord.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
THE NANNY’S SECRET CHILD
by Lorraine Beatty.

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Dear Reader,

The Amish village of Happiness, Pennsylvania, is one of my favorite places. I’m fortunate that every time I write, I enjoy a visit with the Samuel Lapp family and other members of their Old Order Amish community. In my last Lancaster County Wedding series book, I told Jacob Lapp’s story and about his efforts to win Annie Zook, the girl he’s loved since he was a young boy. This book belongs to Elijah, Jacob’s fraternal twin. Elijah isn’t interested in love at this stage in his life, and he certainly doesn’t expect to find it in Martha, Ike King’s widow. But God has other plans for him, just as He had for his brothers, Jedidiah, Noah and Jacob.

I hope you enjoy Eli’s story as much as I loved writing it. And if you haven’t done so already, you can visit Happiness again by reading
Noah’s Sweetheart
,
Jedidiah’s Bride
and
A Wife for Jacob
.

I wish you joy and all of the good that life has to offer. May God hold and keep you in the palm of His hand.

Blessings and light,

Rebecca Kertz

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The Nanny’s Secret Child

by Lorraine Beatty

Chapter One

“T
urn right onto Sycamore Avenue. Your destination is on the right.”

Julianna Bishop followed the directions on her GPS and made the turn, searching the house numbers for 122. The old, established neighborhood in Dover, Mississippi, could have been lifted from a fifties television sitcom. Each home oozed charm, their appealing facades nestled on neatly landscaped yards that even the gray drab of January couldn’t dim. Full-grown trees stripped of their leaves arched overhead, filtering the bright sunlight streaming down from a clear blue sky. Evergreen live oaks and giant magnolia trees added a splash of green to the winter landscapes.

The peaceful and picturesque surroundings were at odds with the violent storm raging inside her. She swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat and searched the house numbers again. Heart pounding against her rib cage, Julie pressed down on the brakes, bringing the car to a full stop. She had arrived. One-twenty-two Sycamore Avenue was a two-story white colonial with black shutters, a red front door and a lamppost at the edge of the sidewalk. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, turning her knuckles white. She was doing the right thing. Her prayers had been answered.

Her gaze surveyed the white house more closely. It was exactly as she’d expected. It was a beautiful home, the kind of place where families laughed and loved and enjoyed each other. All that was missing was the white picket fence.

Closing her eyes, Julie inhaled slowly, hoping to settle her jittery nerves. The house and the neighborhood were reassuring. Everything would be fine.

Sliding the gear shift into Park, she inhaled a couple of slow breaths, hoping to calm her churning stomach and take a moment to plan her introduction. The opening strains of “Mighty God” sounded from the depths of her oversize purse. She rummaged around, found the small phone and glanced at the display. DiDi. Her moral support. And oh, how she needed her longtime best friend at this moment. “Hey.”

“Are you there yet?”

DiDi’s anxious tone mirrored her own. “Yes.” Julie rested her head against the back of the seat, mentally scolding herself for being such a coward. “I just pulled up out front.”

“I’m praying for you.”

“I’m praying for me, too.”

“Have you figured out what you’re going to say to him?”

“Uh, I was thinking of, ‘Hello. I’m the nanny.’”

“You know what I mean. What if he suspects?”

“Di, you’re not helping.” Julie pressed her hand against her stomach, trying to quell the nausea.

“Sorry. I know you have to do this. I just hope you find the peace you’re looking for when this is over.”

Her friend’s loving concern and understanding did more to ease Julie’s anxiety than all her prayers. She thanked the Lord every day for sending Deirdre Simmons into her life. “I know it will. The Lord’s given me this chance, and I can’t pass it up.”

“Be careful. Watch your emotions, girlfriend. You deserve to be happy, and I hope after this you will be.”

Julie ended the call, then peered out at the house again.
Lord, this is a blessing from You, isn’t it? The answer to my prayers?
There was no other explanation. Why else would Gil Montgomery’s name turn up at the Nanny Connection Agency, and why else would she be available to step in to fill the assignment?

The timing was too perfect to be anything other than a gift from God. She’d ended her job as a second-grade teacher at Christmas. In three months she’d be boarding a plane for Paris and a new life as a teacher at the International School. The five-year assignment she’d dreamed about and worked toward for years. In the meantime, she continued to work as a nanny, a second job she’d held in the summers and on school holidays. The butterflies were still battling in her stomach, but she’d regained her confidence. It might be nerve-racking at first, but when all was said and done, she’d have peace and she could step into her future finally free of the gnawing questions. Anticipation coursed through her like carbonated water, making her all bubbly with excitement.

Climbing out of the car, Julie tugged her sweater down, adjusted her scarf and slung her large purse over her shoulder. The walkway to the front door was long and winding, giving her the time she needed to disengage her emotions and find her professional nanny zone. This afternoon’s meeting with the family was a mere formality. She’d been through it dozens of times. It was a chance for everyone involved to get a feel for one another and gauge their compatibility. It was unusual to meet on a Sunday, but given the urgency of the client’s request, it was understandable.

Fingers trembling, she rang the doorbell, lifting up one more prayer. The only way this would work was to keep her heart locked away and her emotions shut down. She’d assimilate everything later when she got home. She swallowed the knot in her throat and tried to ignore the fierce pounding of her heart.

Movement from the other side of the small panes in the front door froze her breath in her lungs. This was a happy assignment. Joyous, even. She would concentrate on that. She pasted a smile on her face as the door clicked open. The man in the doorway stared back at her, looking puzzled and confused. But he wasn’t the middle-aged, slightly paunchy man she’d expected. This guy was early thirties, tops. Tall, well built and with sculpted features that were drawn downward in a fierce scowl. Did she have the right house? The numbers beside the door confirmed her location.

“Yes?”

She cleared her throat. “I’m from the Nanny Connection Agency. You requested a nanny?” His frown deepened, and he scanned her quickly with intense cobalt blue eyes. A gust of wind blew hair across her face, and she raked it way with her fingertips and widened her smile.

“Right.” The man touched his forehead and nodded, motioning her inside. “Forgive me. I didn’t realize what time it was.”

Julie stepped into the foyer, her gaze quickly scanning the small entry. Outdated wallpaper covered the walls, and a shiny brass chandelier hung from the ceiling. The stairs were covered with worn carpet and the parquet floors had seen better days.

“Thanks for coming. I’m Gil Montgomery.” He extended his hand.

She grasped it, her fingers enveloped in a strong, warm grip, along with a snap of static electricity as if she’d rubbed her feet across new carpet before touching him. Or had she imagined it? It was winter after all, and the air was dry. She looked up into his eyes and found it hard to look away. She saw intelligence and probing, and a swell of appreciation rolled along her nerves. He was a very attractive man. She blinked and smiled. “Julie Bishop.” He motioned her to follow him.

Glimpses of the other rooms as she passed by left her puzzled. The interior of the home didn’t match the picture-perfect exterior. The layout was small and cramped, and the scale of the furniture was all wrong. Oversize and ornate, it was better suited for a much larger and more modern home. The rooms were relics from the eighties. The disjointed feel about the house added another flip to her churning stomach. She’d envisioned the inside of the home as warm and welcoming, filled with antiques and lovingly worn furniture. Not these conflicted styles. What did that say about the people who lived here?

Like Gil Montgomery.

Her gaze landed on the broad back of the man. He wasn’t supposed to be this elegantly handsome man who moved with athletic grace and control. He was a head taller than her, which placed him a little over six feet in height. The dark blue knit shirt tucked in neatly at the narrow waist hung nicely over his broad shoulders. She continued her inventory as she followed behind him. A head of wavy, coffee-brown hair curled slightly over his ears and along the nape of his neck, suggesting he was in need of a trim. But it was the eyes that had grabbed her full attention. They were a rich cobalt blue, with long dark lashes and tiny crinkles at the corners. Julie dismissed the idle thoughts. What the man looked like was neither here nor there. She closed her eyes and offered up one more prayer.

“Oomph.”

Her face bumped into a wall of muscle when Mr. Montgomery stopped in the kitchen. Her hands rested against a solid back. Warmth from beneath his shirt transferred to her palms, sending a funny squiggle into her stomach. She dropped her hand and stepped back. His dark blue eyes held concern.

“Sorry. Are you all right? I didn’t realize you were so close behind me.”

She nodded and stepped back quickly, uncomfortable with the sensations coursing through her at his nearness. “My fault. I was distracted by...”
you
. “Your home, it’s charming.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a chopped-up mess.”

He’d stopped in a large and sunny breakfast nook. This part of the house had a warmer and friendlier feel, though the furniture was still all wrong. The glass-topped table didn’t fit with the country kitchen, which though charming, was a couple of decades out of date with the light oak cabinets, laminate countertops and almond appliances. Placing her purse on the table, she glanced over her shoulder to find her new employer staring at her. His dark blue eyes narrowed and a deep frown creased his high forehead. Her pulse jumped. What did he see? She forced a smile, her hand went to her throat, her fingers wrapping around the small heart necklace she always wore, trying to calm the sense of being exposed.

“You’re younger than I expected.”

Julie expelled a soft breath. She’d heard this before. “Is that a problem?”

He rubbed his temple with two fingers. “I’ve never hired a nanny before. I was expecting someone more mature. How long have you been doing this? Being a nanny, I mean?”

Typical questions. She was used to them. She smiled reassuringly, trying to ignore the anticipation that was swirling in her stomach now that she was actually here. She only hoped he wouldn’t send her away. “I’m a teacher by profession. Second grade. But I’ve worked as a nanny during summers and holidays for the last six years.”

Mr. Montgomery nodded, the worry lines in his forehead deepening. Had she come here only to be dismissed because she wasn’t gray-haired and over fifty?

“I’m sure you’re qualified, or you wouldn’t be working for the agency.” He gestured for her to be seated at the table, then joined her, clasping his hands on the top. “I wanted to take a minute to talk about my daughter before I introduce you.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting her.” She was surprised she could even speak around the tightness in her throat. He held her gaze, sending her heart pounding again. Could he sense her turmoil? Was the truth written in her eyes? Her false smile? Or was she being paranoid?

“Abby has been through a lot these last six months. Her mother’s illness and death were hard on her. I brought her back here to be close to my family. My mother has been taking care of her since Christmas, but she had to leave the country suddenly.”

Julie tamped down the pain in her heart and schooled her features. This wasn’t going the way she’d expected. What did he mean “brought her back”? “Abby wasn’t with you?”

Montgomery set his jaw a moment before continuing. “She went to live with her mother in Mobile after the divorce. But she’s with me now and that’s all that matters.”

She nodded, unable to speak. Everything was all wrong. She wished she’d read his application more closely. She’d seen where he’d recently lost his wife, but not that he was divorced. She fought to remain composed. “It’s hard for a child to lose a parent, especially at a young age. I imagine she’s having trouble adjusting to the change?”

Montgomery glanced away briefly before meeting her gaze. “Yes. She was just getting comfortable here with my mom and now another change.” He rubbed his temple. “I don’t want her to be any more upset.”

“When will your mother be home again?”

“She’s supposed to return next week. My sister is a dancer. She was performing in London and had an accident. Mom flew over to be with her until she can travel.” He pushed away from the table and stood. “I wanted you to know what to expect. I’m not sure how she’ll react to this new development.”

“I understand. As a teacher I’ve dealt with all types of children and their challenges. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but I appreciate you telling me.” She could see Mr. Montgomery relax slightly, as if a burden was lifted from his shoulders. Unfortunately it had shifted onto hers. Had the mother’s death been so traumatic? Was her father providing the love and support his child needed? She forced her thoughts off that track. One step at a time. One minute at a time.

Montgomery met her gaze. “She means everything to me. I want only the best for her. I’m sure you understand.”

The sincerity and concern in his tone eased much of her worry. It was clear that he loved his daughter. Montgomery’s cell buzzed. He slipped it from his pocket, excused himself, moving to the other end of the kitchen. She heard him say something about breaker boxes before ending the call.

“Other than giving your full attention to Abby, you won’t have any other duties. The housekeeper, Mrs. Fontenot, comes on Friday. I’d like you to be here early enough to fix breakfast and take Abby to school in the morning and pick her up each day. I’ll be home in time to handle supper, but I’d like you to be available at all times while she’s at school just in case.”

“That’s fine. I have plenty to keep me occupied. I tutor older students online, and I’m moving to Paris in a few months so there’s lots of paperwork involved.”

“France. Sounds interesting. I meant to ask where you live. Is it a long commute to Dover?”

“Not too bad. I live in Brandon, east of Jackson. It takes about forty-five minutes.”

He nodded. “I’d prefer you were closer. But if for some reason you need to stay late or be here early, there’s a mother-in-law suite down the hall from Abby’s room. There’s also a small furnished apartment above the garage you can use.”

“I’ll remember that. But I’m an early riser, so the commute isn’t a problem.”

Montgomery rubbed his jaw, then rested his hands on his hips. “I think that covers everything. I’ll get Abby, and you two can get acquainted.”