Katie's Redemption

Elam wasn’t sure he would ever be ready to trust his heart to someone again.

If that time did come, it would be only with a woman he was certain shared his love of God and his Plain faith.

“Once burned, twice shy,” he confided to his tiny listener, Katie’s newborn daughter, nestled in the crook of his arm.

He waited for the anger to surface, but it didn’t. For the first time in over a year he was able to think about his broken engagement without bitterness. Maybe the sweet-smelling babe in his arms had brought with her a measure of God’s peace for him. To her, life was new and good and shouldn’t be tainted with the sins of the past.

He began to sing a soft lullaby. Baby Rachel stared back at him intently for a few minutes, but she eventually grew discontented with his voice and the fingers she couldn’t quite get into her mouth. Her little fussing noises became a full-fledged cry.

“I guess I can’t fix what ails you after all. I reckon I’ll have to wake your mother.”

“I’m awake.” Katie’s low voice came from the bed.

He looked over to find her watching him with dark eyes as beautiful and intense as her daughter’s. How long had she been listening to him?

PATRICIA DAVIDS

After thirty-five years as a nurse, Pat has hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her new free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides with her husband in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her on the Web at www.patriciadavids.com.

Katie’s Redemption

Patricia Davids

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, O Lord Almighty, my King and my God.

—Psalms 84:3

This book is dedicated to my family.

You have supported me every step of the way

and I couldn’t do it without you.

Contents

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

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Chapter One

“Lady, you sure this is where you wanna get out?” The middle-aged bus driver tipped his hat back and regarded his passenger with worry-filled eyes.

“This is the place.” Katie Lantz glanced from his concerned face to the desolate winter landscape beyond the windshield. A chill that owed nothing to the weather crawled over her skin.

It was her destination, but rural Ohio was the last place in the world she wanted to be. She had agonized over her decision for weeks. Now that she was here, the same worries that had robbed her of sleep for endless nights cartwheeled through her mind.

Would her brother take her in? What if Malachi turned her away? What would she do then? If he did allow her to return to his home would she ever find the strength to leave again?

“It don’t feel right leaving a gal in your condition out here alone. You sure I can’t take ya into town?”

“I’m sure.” She pressed a protective hand to her midsection. Her condition was the only reason she was here. She didn’t want to get off the bus, but what choice did she have?

None.

All her plans, her dreams and her hopes had turned to ashes. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’d just have to walk back if I went into Hope Springs. Thank you for letting me off. I know you aren’t supposed to make unscheduled stops.”

The driver pulled the lever to open the doors with obvious reluctance. “I don’t make a habit of it, but I figured it was best not to argue with a gal that’s as pregnant as you are.”

A gust of wintry wind swirled in, raking Katie’s face with icy fingers. A tremor raced through her body. She turned up the collar of her red plaid coat, prolonging the moment she would have to actually step out of the bus and back into the life she dreaded.

The driver seemed to sense her unwillingness to leave. “Is someone meeting you?”

She hadn’t bothered to write that she was coming. Her previous letters had all been returned unopened. Proof, if she needed any, that her family hadn’t forgiven her for turning her back on her Amish heritage.

She lifted her chin.

I don’t have to do this. I can stay on the bus and go to the next town.

And then what?

As quickly as her bravado appeared it evaporated. She closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

All she had in her pocket was twelve dollars. All she owned was in the suitcase she clutched. It wasn’t enough, not with her baby due in three weeks. For her child’s sake, returning home was her only option.

For now.

Clinging to that faint echo of resolve, she drew a steadying breath, opened her eyes and faced her bleak future. “My brother’s farm is just over the hill. It’s not far. I’ll be fine.”

Oh, how she hoped her words would prove true.

She didn’t belong in this Amish world. She had escaped it once before. She would do so again. It would be harder with a baby, but she would find a way.

With no money, without even a driver’s license and nothing but an eighth-grade education, the English world was a hard place for an ex-Amish woman on her own.

Matt had taken her away and promised to take care of her and show her the wonders of the modern world, but his promises had been empty. He’d disappeared from her life three months ago, leaving her to struggle and fail alone.

The bus driver shrugged. “All right. You be careful.”

“Danki. I mean…thank you.” When she was upset the language of her childhood often slipped out. It was hard to remember to speak English when the words of her native Pennsylvania Dutch came to mind first.

Gripping her small case tightly, Katie descended the steps and walked toward the edge of the roadway. The doors slammed shut behind her. The engine roared as the driver pulled away, followed by a billowing cloud of diesel fumes.

There was no turning back—nowhere left to run.

Shivering as the frigid air found its way inside the coat she couldn’t button over her bulging stomach, she pulled at the material to close the gap. Now she was truly alone. Except for the child she carried.

Standing here wasn’t helping. She needed to get moving. Switching her suitcase to her other hand, she arched her back to stretch out a persistent cramp. When it eased, she turned and glanced up the long lane leading over the hill. For her baby she would do anything. Endure anything.

With the late-March sky hanging low and gray overhead, Katie wished for the first time that she had kept some of her Amish clothing. If she at least looked the part of a repentant Plain woman, her family reunion might go better.

She had left before her baptism—before taking her vows to faithfully follow the Plain faith. She would be reprimanded for her errant behavior, but she might not be shunned if she came asking forgiveness.

Please, God, don’t let them send me away.

To give her child a home she would endure the angry tirade she expected from her brother. His wife, Beatrice, wouldn’t intercede for Katie. Beatrice would sit silent and sullen, never saying a word. Through it all Malachi wouldn’t be able to hide the gloating in his voice. He had predicted Katie would come to a bad end out among the English.

How she hated that he had been right.

Still, she would soon have the one thing her brother and her sister-in-law had been denied in their lives—a baby. Was it possible the arrival of her child might heal old wounds? Or would it only make things worse?

An unexpected tightening across her stomach made her draw in a quick breath. She had been up since dawn, riding for hours on the jolting bus. It was no wonder her back ached almost constantly now. She started toward the lane that led north from the highway. There could be no rest until she reached her brother’s house.

The dirt road running between twin fences made for rough and treacherous walking. Buggy wheels and horse’s hooves had cut deep ruts in the mud that was now frozen. Tiny, hard flakes driven by the wind stung her cheeks and made it difficult to see. She shivered and hunched deeper into her too-small coat.

As much as she wanted to hurry toward the warm stove she knew was glowing in her brother’s kitchen, she couldn’t. She had to be careful of each step over the rough ground. The last thing she wanted to do was fall and hurt the child that meant everything to her. When her son or daughter arrived, Katie would have the one true thing she had always longed for—a family of her own.

Her stomach tightened again. She had to stop to catch her breath. Her pain deepened. Something wasn’t right. This was more than fatigue. Had her long day of travel hurt the baby? She’d never forgive herself if something happened to her child.

After a few quick, panting breaths the discomfort passed. Katie straightened with relief. She switched her suitcase to her other hand, pushed her frozen fingers deep into her pocket and started walking again. She hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when the next pain made her double over and drop her case.

Fear clogged her throat as she clutched her belly. Breathing hard, she peered through the blowing snow. She could just make out the light from a window up ahead. It wasn’t much farther. Closing her eyes, she gathered her strength.

One foot in front of the other. The only way to finish a journey is to start it.

With grim determination, she pressed on. Another dozen yards brought her to the steps of the small front porch. She sagged with relief when her hand closed over the railing. She was home.

Home. The word echoed inside her mind, bringing with it grim memories from the past. Defeat weighed down her already-low spirits. She raised her fist and knocked at the front door. Then she bowed her head and closed her eyes, grasping the collar of her coat to keep the chill at bay.

When the door finally opened she looked up slowly past the dark trousers and suspenders, past the expanse of pale blue shirt to meet her brother’s gaze.

Katie sucked in a breath and took a half step back. A tall, broad-shouldered Amish man stood in front of her with a kerosene lamp in his hand and a faint puzzled expression on his handsome face.

It wasn’t Malachi.

Elam Sutter stared in surprise at the English woman on his doorstep clutching a suitcase in one hand and the collar of her coat with the other. Her pale face was framed by coal-black hair that ended just below her jawline. The way the ends of it swung forward to caress her cheeks reminded Elam of the wings of a small bird.

In his lamplight, snowflakes sparkled in her hair and on the tips of her thick eyelashes. Her eyes, dark as the night, brimmed with misery. She looked nearly frozen from her head…to her very pregnant belly.

He drew back in shock and raised the lamp higher, scanning the yard behind her for a car, but saw none. Perhaps it had broken down on the highway. That would explain her sudden appearance.

The English! They hadn’t enough sense to stay by a warm fire on such a fierce night. Still, she was obviously in trouble. He asked politely, “Can I help you?”

“Would you…” Her voice faltered. She swallowed hard then began again. “I must speak with Malachi.”

“Would you be meaning Malachi Lantz?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“The Lantz family doesn’t live here anymore.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What? But this is his home.”

“Jah, it was. He and his wife moved to Kansas last spring after he sold the farm to me. I have his address inside if you need it.”

“That can’t be,” she whispered as she pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Who is it, Elam?” his mother, Nettie, called from behind him.

He spoke over his shoulder, “Someone looking for Malachi Lantz.”

A second later his mother was beside him. She looked as shocked as he at the sight of a very pregnant outsider on their stoop, but it took only an instant for her kindheartedness to assert itself.

“Goodness, child, come in out of this terrible weather. You look chilled to the bone. Elam, pull a chair close to the fireplace.” She nudged him aside and he hurried to do as she instructed.

Grasping the woman’s elbow, Nettie guided her guest into the living room and helped her into a straight-backed seat, one of a pair that flanked the stone fireplace.

“Ach, your hands are like ice.” Nettie began rubbing them between her own.

The young woman’s gaze roved around the room and finally came to rest on Elam’s mother’s face. “Malachi doesn’t live here anymore?”

Nettie’s gaze softened. “No, dear. I’m sorry. He moved away.”

Pulling her hands away from the older woman’s, she raked them through her dark hair. “Why would he move? Was it because of me?”

Elam exchanged puzzled glances with his mother. What did the woman mean by that comment? Nettie shrugged, then took the girl’s hands once more. “What’s your name, child?”

The dazed look on his visitor’s face was replaced by a blankness that troubled him. “My name is Katie.”

“Katie, I’m Nettie Sutter, and this is my son, Elam.”

Katie bent forward with a deep moan. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t cry.” His mother patted the girl’s shoulder as she shot Elam a worried glance.

After several deep breaths, Katie straightened and wiped her cheeks. “I have to go.”

“You haven’t thawed out yet. At least stay for a cup of tea. The kettle is still on. Elam, bring me a cup, too.” Nettie caught his eye and made shooing motions toward the kitchen with one hand.

He retreated, but he could still hear them talking as he fixed the requested drinks. His mother’s tone was calm and reassuring as she said, “Why not stay and rest a bit longer? It’s not good for your baby to have his mother turning into an icicle.”

“I need to go. I have to find Malachi.” Katie’s voice wavered with uncertainty.

“Is he the father?” Nettie asked gently.

Elam didn’t want to think ill of any man, but why else would a pregnant woman show up demanding to see Malachi months after he had moved away?

“No. He’s my brother.”

Elam stopped pouring the hot water and glanced toward the living room. He had heard the story of Malachi’s willful sister from the man’s own lips. So this was the woman that had left the Amish after bringing shame to her family. At least she had done so before her baptism.

Elam placed the tea bags in the mugs. Malachi had his sympathy. Elam knew what it was like to face such heartbreak—the talk, the pitying looks, the whispers behind a man’s back.

He pushed aside those memories as he carried the cups into the other room. “I didn’t see your car outside.”

She looked up at him and once again the sadness in her luminous eyes caught him like a physical blow. Her lower lip quivered. “I came on the bus.”

Elam felt his mother’s eyes on him but he kept his gaze averted, focusing instead on handing over the hot drinks without spilling any.

Nettie took a cup from Elam and pressed it into Katie’s hands. “Have a sip. This will warm you right up. You can’t walk all the way to Hope Springs tonight. Elam will take you in the buggy when you’re ready.”

Katie shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no trouble.” He tried hard to mean it. He’d already finished a long day of work and he was ready for his bed. He would have to be up again before dawn to milk the cows and feed the livestock.

Returning to the kitchen, he began donning his coat and his black felt hat. It was a mean night for a ride into town, but what else could he do? He certainly couldn’t let her walk, in her condition.

Suddenly, he heard Katie cry out. Rushing back into the room, he saw her doubled over, the mug lying broken on the floor in a puddle at her feet.

Chapter Two

Through a haze of pain, Katie heard Elam ask, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She felt strong arms supporting her. She leaned into his strength but she couldn’t answer because she was gritting her teeth to keep from screaming.

“I believe her baby’s coming,” Nettie replied calmly.

Panic swallowed Katie whole.

This can’t be happening. Not here. Not with strangers. This isn’t right. Nothing is right. Please, God, I know I’ve disappointed You, but help me now.

A horrible sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. Was this her punishment for leaving the faith? She knew there would be a price to pay someday, but she didn’t want her baby to suffer because of her actions.

She looked from Elam’s wide, startled eyes above her to his mother’s serene face. “My baby can’t come now. I’m not due for three weeks.”

Nettie’s smile was reassuring. “Babies have a way of choosing their own time.”

Katie bit her lower lip to stop its trembling. She’d never been so scared in all her life.

“Don’t worry. I know just what to do. I’ve had eight of my own.” Nettie’s unruffled demeanor eased some of Katie’s panic. Seeing no other choice, Katie allowed Nettie to take charge of the situation.

Why wasn’t Matt here when she needed him? It should have been Matt beside her, not these people.

Because he’d grown tired of her, that’s why. He had been ashamed of her backward ways. Her pregnancy had been the last straw. He accused her of getting pregnant to force him into marriage, which wasn’t true. After their last fight three months ago, he walked out and never came back, leaving her with rent and bills she couldn’t pay.

Nettie turned to her son. “Elam, move one of the extra beds into the kitchen so Katie has a warm place to rest while you fetch the midwife.”

“Jah.” A blush of embarrassment stained his cheeks dark red. His lack of a beard proclaimed his single status. Childbirth was the territory of women, clearly a territory he didn’t want to explore. He hurried away.

Nettie coaxed Katie to sit and showed her how to breathe through her next contraction. When Elam had wrestled a narrow bed into the kitchen and piled several quilts on one end, Nettie helped Katie onto it. Lying down with a sigh of relief, Katie closed her eyes. She was so tired. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. The Lord will give you the strength you need,” Nettie said gently.

No, He won’t. God doesn’t care what happens to a sinner like me.

“Is the midwife okay, or will you be wanting to go to a hospital?” Elam’s voice interrupted her fatalistic thoughts.

She turned her face toward the wall. “I can’t afford a hospital.”

“The midwife will do fine, Elam. I’ve heard good things about Nurse Bradley from the women hereabouts. Go over to the Zimmerman farm and ask to use their phone. They’ll know her number. What are you waiting for? Get a move on.”

“I was wondering if there was anyone else I should call. Perhaps the baby’s father? He should know his child is being born.”

“Matt doesn’t care about this baby. He left us,” Katie managed to say through gritted teeth. The growing contraction required all her concentration. The slamming of the outside door signaled that Elam had gone.

When her pain eased, Katie turned back to watch Nettie bustling about, making preparations for her baby’s arrival. The kitchen looked so different than it had during the years Katie had lived here. She could see all of the changes Elam and his mother had made. She concentrated on each detail as she tried to relax and gather strength for her next contraction.

Overhead, a new gas lamp above the kitchen table cast a warm glow throughout the room. As it had in her day, a rectangular table occupied the center of the room. The chairs around it were straight-backed and sturdy. The dark, small cabinets that once flanked the wide window above the sink had been replaced with new larger ones that spread across the length of the wall. Their natural golden oak color was much more appealing.

Setting Katie’s suitcase on a chair, Nettie opened it and drew out a pink cotton nightgown. “Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”

Embarrassment sent the blood rushing to Katie’s face, but Nettie didn’t seem to notice. The look of kindness on her face and her soothing prattle in thick German quickly put Katie at ease. Elam’s mother seemed perfectly willing to accept a stranger into her home and care for her.

Dressed in a dark blue dress covered by a black apron, Nettie had a sparkle in her eyes behind the wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Her plump cheeks were creased with smile lines. No one in Katie’s family had ever been cheerful.

Nettie’s gray hair was parted in the middle and coiled into a bun beneath her white kapp the way all Amish women wore their hair. Katie fingered her own short locks.

Cutting her hair had been her first act of rebellion after she left home. Amish women never cut their hair. It had been one way Katie could prove to herself that she was no longer Amish. At times, she regretted the loss of her waist-length hair. She once thought she despised all things Amish, yet this Amish woman was showing her more kindness than anyone had ever done. Only one person Katie knew in the neighborhood where she’d lived with Matt would have taken her in like this, but that friend was dead. The English world wasn’t always a friendly place.

After she had changed into her nightclothes, Katie settled back into bed. Nettie added more wood to the stove. The familiar crackle, hiss and popping sounds of the fire helped calm Katie’s nerves. Until the next contraction hit.

Elam wasted no time getting Judy hitched to the buggy. In spite of her master’s attempts to hurry, the black mare balked at the wide doorway, making it clear she objected to leaving her warm barn. Elam couldn’t blame her. The windblown sleet felt like stinging nettles where it hit his face. He pulled the warm scarf his mother had knitted for him over his nose and mouth, then climbed inside the carriage.

The town of Hope Springs lay three miles to the east of his farm. He had Amish neighbors on all sides. None of them used telephones. The nearest phone was at the Zimmerman farm just over a mile away. He prayed the Mennonite family would be at home when he got there or he would have to go all the way into town to find one.

Once he reached the highway, he urged Judy to pick up her pace. He slapped the reins against her rump and frequently checked the rectangular mirror mounted on the side of his buggy. This stretch of curving road could be a nerve-racking drive in daylight. Traveling it in this kind of weather was doubly dangerous. The English cars and trucks came speeding by with little regard for the fact that a slow-moving buggy might be just over the rise.

Tonight, as always, Elam trusted the Lord to see him safely to his destination, but he kept a sharp lookout for headlights coming up behind him.

It was a relief to finally swing off the blacktop onto the gravel drive of his neighbor’s farm. By the time he reached their yard, his scarf was coated with ice from his frozen breath. He saw at once that the lights were on. The Zimmermans were home. He gave a quick prayer of thanks.

Hitching Judy to the picket fence near the front gate, he bounded up the porch steps. Pulling down his muffler, he rapped on the door.