Read The Amish Clockmaker Online

Authors: Mindy Starns Clark

The Amish Clockmaker

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

EUGENE, OREGON

Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Cover by Garborg Design Works, Savage, Minnesota

Cover photos © Chris Garborg; Bigstock / DWStock

The authors are represented by MacGregor Literary, Inc.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The quote by William Andrews before part one is from an article titled “The Shadow Knows” by Dava Sobel, dated January 2007, and can be found at this link:
www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/the-shadow-knows-142866936/#yjYbSu5vM7pkQQJc.99
.

THE AMISH CLOCKMAKER

Copyright © 2015 by Mindy Starns Clark and Susan Meissner

Published by Harvest House Publishers

Eugene, Oregon 97402

www.harvesthousepublishers.com

ISBN 978-0-7369-5738-0 (pbk.)

ISBN 978-0-7369-5739-7 (eBook)

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Clark, Mindy Starns.

The Amish clockmaker / Mindy Starns Clark and Susan Meissner.

pages ; cm.—(Men of Lancaster County ; book 3) 1. Amish—Fiction. I. Meissner, Susan, 1961- II. Title.

PS3603.L366C774 2015

813'.6—dc23

2014028184

All rights reserved.
No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author's and publisher's rights is strictly prohibited.

Dedication

In loving memory of

Mariette Smith,

1970 – 2013.

Precious friend,

sister in Christ
,

fantastic mother
,

adoring wife,

avid reader,

amazing woman,

missed beyond all measure.

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Part One: Matthew

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Part Two: Clayton

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Part Three: Matthew
 

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Discussion Questions
 

Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark

About the Authors

The Amish Groom

The Amish Blacksmith

Lilies on Daybreak Pond

Ready to Discover More?

About the Publisher

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks so much to…

Everyone at Harvest House Publishers, in particular our wonderful editor and friend, Kim Moore.

Chip MacGregor, our literary agent, who brought about this collaboration.

John Clark, loving husband to Mindy and her number one story consultant/idea man/information resource.

Emily Clark, whose talent and dedication helped make this book a reality.

Rich Scannell, Ned Scannell, and Isaac and Lorraine Kauffman, for patiently answering our numerous questions.

The Riehl, Fisher, and Stoltzfus families of Lancaster County, for sharing your knowledge and your homes and businesses with us.

Lauren Clark and Tara Kenny, for being so helpful throughout the process.

To be a clockmaker is to work not just for yourself or your client, but also for someone else far in the future, someone who knows enough to judge your work and who will look at something you've made someday and—you hope—say, “That was done right.”

William Andrewes, Curator

Harvard University Collection of Historical Scientific Instruments

PART ONE

Matthew

O
NE

S
tanding at the edge of the grassy lot, I squinted my eyes in the predawn darkness and envisioned the future. Construction hadn't even started yet, but I had pictured this place so many times in my mind that it was nearly real to me already, from the sweep of the roofline to the span of the side walls to the stretch of the covered walkway that would connect it to the barn. Once completed, the remodeled building wouldn't be fancy or showy, but it would be big—twice as big, in fact, as what we had now.

The expansion of Zook's Feed and Tack, my family's store, was set to begin in just two hours, not a minute too soon as far as I was concerned. My parents didn't exactly see it that way, but in the end it had been my decision. They would come around eventually—at least I hoped they would—but I didn't have time to wait. If I was going to save this company, I had to keep things moving forward. God had blessed us with some exciting opportunities, but taking advantage of them meant first doubling our space and our inventory.

God willing, we'd end up doubling our revenue as well.

Such a thought should have left me feeling excited and eager to get started. Instead, my emotions were mixed. On the one hand, I was thrilled to be breaking ground today and confident this expansion was the right move for us to take. On the other hand, I was frustrated with my father, with how he could not—
would
not—understand or embrace my vision. He and I had
always gotten on so well, and he was a kind and godly man, but this situation had created a rift between us I feared we'd never be able to mend.

To make matters worse, a deep ache of loss had been rising up inside of me for days. That feeling came from the knowledge that my beloved grandfather—my kindred spirit in so many ways—wasn't here to share in this day with me. At least
Grossdaadi
had been in on the early planning, I told myself as I began walking across the dewy grass. He'd known and approved of my intentions before he died—and that was some consolation.

Then again, he had passed away more than three months ago, before the final plans were drawn up, before the crew was hired, before we were even certain we'd be able to pull this off. Now that it was finally happening, I missed him with an intensity that hadn't felt so piercing since the day of his funeral.

I came to a stop at the center of the scruffy, unused piece of land that stretched out beside and behind the current building and would be the site of today's construction. The last thing added to our property was a little cottage up by the house that had been put in a few years ago, when one of my older brothers was getting married. Amanda and I were living there now, but ultimately it would become my parents' home, their
daadi haus
, and Amanda and I would shift over to the main house.

This homestead sat on a hill, low at the front and higher at the back. Heading up our driveway, which ran along the right side of the property, one would encounter first the parking lot, then the tack store, the feed store, a horse barn, the main house, the cottage, and a small fenced-in field out back. At five acres total, this place wasn't big enough to call a farm, though we did own two horses and enough pastureland to keep them fed. Beyond that, we lived more like city folk than our friends and fellow church members, many of whom were farmers.

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