An Amish Harvest

Nursing His Heart

When Amish carpenter Samuel Bowman is injured in an accident, he fears he’ll never see again. He’s always provided for his family—and now that it’s harvest season, the Bowmans are needed in the fields, not at his bedside. So when a young Amish widow becomes his nurse, Samuel expects Rebecca Miller to make his life easier. But his caregiver is bossy, outspoken and challenges him to move on with his life. Though Samuel’s sight is in question, he can plainly see the woman he’s come to care for won’t let herself love again. Now it’s Samuel’s turn to heal her heart.

“Will you marry again?” Samuel asked.

Rebecca wasn’t sure how to answer Samuel’s question. It seemed that everyone had an opinion about whether she should or not, but how did she truly feel about it?

He waited patiently for her answer. Somehow, it was easier to express her feelings under the cover of darkness. She didn’t have to school her features into blankness and pretend that she was content with the way life was. It was easy to confide in Samuel. Maybe it was because he couldn’t see her face.

“I don’t believe I will marry. I find great satisfaction caring for the sick among us. I can be useful and I like that.”

“A wife and mother does the same. There are many good men in our community.”

“I find it hard to imagine someone who could make me laugh the way Walter did. It’s harder still to imagine going through life with someone who doesn’t make me laugh. I don’t think I could abide that.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve played some good pranks yourself.”

She giggled. “I’m a bully. Say it like it is.”

“Okay, I agree with that.”

She enjoyed his teasing. Maybe too much. This Samuel was easy to like.

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

An Amish

Harvest

Patricia Davids

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Saying, What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight:

thy faith hath saved thee.

—Luke 18:41–42

This book is lovingly dedicated

to my grandson Josh.

Of all the things in life that make it

worth living, your smile is at the top of my list.

May God bless and keep you always.

Grandma Pat

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“Don’t do this to me now!”

Samuel Bowman yanked his chisel away from the half-finished table leg rotating on the lathe in front of him as it spun to an untimely stop. Laying his tool aside with care that belied his frustration, he brushed away the loose ribbons of wood shavings to make sure he hadn’t marred the piece. It was the last leg for a special table. An intricate piece, it had to be finished this morning if he was going to have the set completed on time.

“What’s wrong, brudder?” Timothy, Samuel’s second brother, paused on his way past. He held a cardboard box full of hand-carved wooden toys. Also a skilled woodworker, Timothy’s designs were simpler and more modern than Samuel’s.

“The lathe quit.” A breakdown was the last thing Samuel needed. He murmured a prayer and held his breath as he flipped the machine’s switch off and then back on. Nothing.

Timothy grimaced in sympathy. “Let me get these to the gift shop, and I’ll take a look at it. Mother has a lady who wants to see a few more of my samples. Can’t keep the Englisch customers waiting. Is that the table for the Cincinnati dealer?”

“Ja, and it has to be finished today. I need the lathe working.”

“Don’t worry. It will all get done on time. I’ll look at it when I get back.” Timothy went out the woodworking shop’s front door.

It was all well and good that Timothy thought the table would get done. He didn’t have to do it. There was more than Samuel’s reputation for prompt work hanging in the balance. His father had invested the last of the family’s savings in this venture to expand their shop and add the showroom area now packed with Samuel’s finished works. The family badly needed the money a contract for future sales to the high-end furniture store would generate.

Amish-made furniture was always in demand and Samuel was one of the most skilled carvers in the area. It was his God-given gift, and he put it to good use. Up until now, he’d only sold his work locally from the family’s gift shop. But their Amish community of Bowmans Crossing was off the beaten path. Few tourists ventured into the area. Samuel knew he needed to reach a bigger market if the family operation was going to expand. With five sons and only enough farmland to support one family, the woodworking business needed to grow, and quickly, or his brothers would have to look elsewhere for work.

Samuel checked over every inch of the machine and couldn’t find anything wrong with it. He glanced across the shop and spied the second of his four younger brothers stacking fresh lumber by the back door. “Luke, did you put gas in the generator this morning?”

“I told Noah to do it.”

“And did he?”

Luke shrugged. “How should I know?”

Samuel shook his head in disgust. “Why do I have to do everything myself?”

Luke tossed the last board onto the stack and slowly dusted his hands together. “Want me to go check?”

“Never mind, I don’t have all day.” Luke’s lackadaisical offer rubbed Samuel the wrong way. Again. He loved all his brothers, but none of them had the drive that was needed to make the family business a success. Luke and Timothy would rather go out with friends than work late in the shop. Noah had his head in the clouds over a new horse. Joshua had up and married at girl from Hope Springs leaving them short a farmhand. Samuel had no time for such foolishness.

Luke hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. “When is Father going to replace that ancient piece of junk? We need one of those new diesel generators to power this place. The bishop has already said we could use it in our business.”

“Our engine may be ancient, but it will last one more year and then maybe we can afford a better one. Provided you stay out of trouble. You know why father doesn’t have the money to buy a new one.”

Luke took a step forward, his face set in hard lines. “Because of me, is that what you’re saying? He didn’t have to pay for a lawyer. I had a public defender.”

“That would have been okay if you hadn’t pulled Joshua into trouble with you.”

Luke flushed a dull red. “No matter how many times I say I’m sorry, it will never be enough for you, will it?” He turned away and stormed out of the building.

Samuel regretted his jab at Luke, but his brother’s attitude irked him. It always had. He knew Luke was trying to make up for his poor choices in the past when he’d rebelled against his strict Amish upbringing and left home for the big city. He’d fallen in with bad company and ended up using and selling drugs. When their brother Joshua went to try and talk sense into him, they were both arrested and jailed. It had been a difficult time for the entire family.

Even so, it was wrong of Samuel to throw Luke’s failures in his face. What was forgiven should not be mentioned again. He would find Luke and apologize later. Now he needed to get the table leg turned. He could only put out one fire at a time.

He grabbed the tool chest from the bench beside the back door in case a lack of gasoline wasn’t the issue. If the generator required more than a simple fix, he wouldn’t be able to finish on time, and this opportunity would pass him by.

The engine was housed in a small shed at the back of the woodworking shop. The pungent smell of exhaust filled the small room. As Samuel suspected, the fuel gauge needle sat on empty. He should have filled it himself instead of depending on someone else.

The red gas can was sitting on the floor beside the generator. He picked it up. The light weight and faint slosh revealed it was less than half-full. It would take precious time to go get more. He decided against it. Half a can would be enough to finish the job.

He opened the generator’s gas cap and began pouring in the fuel. Strong fumes hit him in the face. Maybe he should’ve waited until the old machine cooled down a little more.

It was his last thought before a blinding flash sent him flying backward into oblivion.

* * *

“Did you hear what happened at the Bowman place?”

“I haven’t. Something serious?” Rebecca Miller glanced from the cake she was slicing to her mother, Ina Fisher. Ina was putting away the goods she had picked up at the local market on her way to Rebecca’s house. Mamm was always eager to share what news she gathered along the way when she came to visit. The Bowman family lived several miles away across the river. Rebecca seldom saw them except at church functions.

“Well, I stopped at the Bowman gift shop after I left the market this morning. I wanted some of Anna’s gooseberry preserves. You know how much I like them.”

“I do.” Her mother’s plump figure was proof that she enjoyed her sweets.

“Anyway, Verna Yoder was at the counter.”

“I didn’t know she worked there.” Verna was her mother’s dear friend and one of the biggest gossips in the county. The woman somehow knew everything about everybody. She and Rebecca’s mother were birds of a feather.

“Verna doesn’t actually work there. She was helping Anna for a few minutes. She told me everything. A few days ago, Samuel was putting gas in their generator for the wood shop and it exploded. His face and hands were badly burned. They aren’t sure if he’ll see again.”

“Oh, no.” Rebecca pressed a hand to her heart and uttered a silent prayer for the young man from her Amish community and for his family.

“As if that wasn’t enough, the building caught fire and a large part of their work was destroyed. They have seen many trials and tribulations in that family.”

“Will he be badly scarred?” Rebecca asked, thinking of Samuel’s rare smiles. He wasn’t known for his sense of humor. That would be Noah, the youngest, who was the family clown. Samuel was always a serious fellow, one who seemed to study others rather than try to entertain them. She always thought his dark brown eyes looked more deeply into things than most other men.

To be blinded. How terrible for him.

“Verna only said that his face and hands are heavily bandaged. Time will tell if he is scarred. It is all in God’s hands. I know his family is grateful his life was spared.”

“As am I. I will pray for his healing.” Rebecca didn’t know Samuel well. He hadn’t been among her husband’s close friends, but he had made her husband’s coffin in his wood shop.

She could still smell the pungent odor of the red cedar panels he chose instead of the simple white pine that was used for most Amish coffins. Walter had always loved the smell of cedar. She didn’t know how Samuel knew that, but she had been grateful for the special touch even though her mother reported that some people in the church thought it was too fancy for an Amish casket.

“Verna has no idea how the family will manage. Anna is about to tear her hair out trying to run the gift shop and take care of Samuel, too. Apparently, he’s a cranky patient. Harvest is coming on, and her men will soon be in the fields and won’t be able to give her the help she needs. Of course, Verna heard that she sent Gemma Yoder away in tears when she tried to help.”

“I wonder why?”

“That Gemma has had her sights set on Samuel for ages, but I can’t see her being much help in the sickroom. The girl cries at the drop of a hat.”

“What is the church doing to help?” Rebecca knew their community would rally around the Bowman family.

“A group of men have volunteered to repair the building, but Isaac won’t let them start until everyone is finished with their harvest or the weather puts a stop to the field work. I’m sure the church will take up a collection to help cover his medical expenses next Sunday.”

Rebecca’s finances were meager, but she would give what she could. “What else can we do to help?”

“Why don’t we each fix a meal and take it over. That would lighten Anna’s burden.”

“That’s a fine idea. I’ll make up a casserole and bake another carrot cake for dessert.” She finished slicing the one in front of her and slid two pieces onto the white plates she had waiting. She carried them to the table where her mother joined her. Her mother stopped in to visit every Tuesday afternoon, and Rebecca always made something special to share with her.

Her mother smiled and took a seat. She forked a bite into her mouth and sighed. “I like your carrot cake almost as much as I like Anna’s gooseberry preserves. It’s too bad the Lord gave Anna all sons and left her without daughters to help in the house. And such troublesome boys, too. I remember how humiliated she was when Luke and Joshua were arrested on drug charges. My heart ached for her. I don’t know how she bore it.”

“Joshua was wrongly accused.”

Mother pointed a finger at Rebecca. “But Luke wasn’t. An Amish fellow selling drugs, what is the world coming to?” She clasped her hand to her chest and shook her head making the ribbons of her white kapp jiggle.

Rebecca chose to ignore her mother’s dramatic flair. “Luke repented and has remained a solid member of the church. We should not speak harshly of him.”

Her mother’s lower lip turned down in a pout. She stabbed her fork into her cake. “I wasn’t speaking harshly. I was merely stating a fact.”

“Joshua married a lovely girl last month. Surely his wife is helping Anna.”

“They are still away on their wedding trip. Anna has two sisters near Arthur, Illinois. The newlyweds are staying with them and visiting cousins in the area. Anna wrote and told them not to cut their visit short. Verna thinks it was a foolish thing to say. I agree.”

Rebecca thought back to her own wedding trip. She cherished every moment of the time she and Walter spent getting to know each other’s families. Her marriage might have been short, but it had been sweet. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. He was only out of her sight for a little while. Someday, they would be together again in Heaven. Until then, she would live her life as God willed.

“I saw John at the market. He asked about you.” The tone of her mother’s voice changed ever so slightly.

Rebecca braced herself for the coming conversation. “How is my brother-in-law?”

“Lonely.”

A twinge of pity pushed Rebecca’s defenses lower. “He told you that?”

“He didn’t have to say it. It was easy to see. His wife has been gone for three years. He has to be lonely. You’re lonely, too. You try to hide it from me, but I’m not blind. I don’t know why you won’t consider marrying John. Everyone in his family is for it.”

Rebecca concentrated on her cake. “It’s barely been two years since Walter died. I know everyone thinks it’s a good idea, but I’m not ready.” Would she ever be?

Her mother reached across the table and covered Rebecca’s hand with her own. “Walter loved you. He loved his brother. He would want to see you both happy.”

How could she be happy with someone other than her beloved? He was the yardstick by which she measured every man. None could come close to the sweet kindness in his voice, the tender touch of his hand, the sparkle that sprang to his eyes each time he caught sight of her. No one could replace him, but her mother was right about one thing. The loneliness was sometimes hard to bear.

“Walter would want to see you holding a babe of your own. Don’t let your sadness rob you of that joy. You aren’t getting any younger.”

“I’m only twenty-five. I’ve got time.” Rebecca’s dreams of a family had died with Walter. She mourned that loss almost as much as she mourned her husband. If only they had been blessed with a child, then she would have been able to keep a part of Walter close to her heart and she wouldn’t be so alone.

Her mother sat back and picked up her fork again. “Time has a way of slipping by us unnoticed, Rebecca. Don’t throw this chance away. Give John some encouragement. You could have children of your own, companionship, security. I don’t want you to be alone all your life.”

Was her mother right? Should she consider remarrying, if not for love, for the blessings a family would bring?

Rebecca studied the cake in front of her. She did want children. She liked John, but was that enough? Could she grow to love him in time? Not as she had loved Walter, of course, but enough to be content in her later years?

“I’ll think about it.” That would satisfy her mother and allow Rebecca to change the painful subject.

“Goot. I’ve invited him and his folks for supper on Sunday after church services. I’m sure the two of you can find a few minutes alone. Are you still working for the Stutzman family?”

Rebecca shook her head as much at her mother’s blatant attempt to manipulate her as to answer her question. “Nee, Mrs. Stutzman’s mother arrived to help with the children and the new baby. I’m unemployed again.”

She wasn’t a trained nurse, but her experience caring for her husband during his long illness had taught her a great deal. She put that knowledge to use helping others in the community such as new mothers or those with infirm elderly family members who required extra attention. Sometimes an English family would hire her, too. It wasn’t steady work, but she found it rewarding. It kept the loneliness at bay and kept her from being a burden on her mother or the church community. She knew they would provide for her, but she hated accepting help when she was able to work.

“So you will be home now.”

Rebecca nodded. “Until I find another job.”

“Goot, you are free to visit with John whenever he wants. I’ll let him know.”

Rebecca closed her eyes. “Mamm, don’t pester the man.”

“He’s always happy to hear from me. You wouldn’t need to work at all if you married again. John makes a nice living as a farrier. His first wife never complained.”

Rebecca cast her mother a beseeching glance. “I’m sure a horseshoer in an Amish community earns a decent wage. Can we drop the subject now?”

Her mother shrugged. “I don’t know why you are so touchy about it. You’re going to let a good man slip out of your grasp if you aren’t careful. I’m simply trying to steer you in the right direction.”

Rebecca was saved from replying by the arrival of a horse and buggy that pulled up to the gate outside. The interruption was welcome. “I wonder who that is?”

“I’m sure I don’t know who it could be.”

Her mother’s feigned innocence caused Rebecca to look at her sharply. “Did you invite John over today?”

“It’s no sin to be friendly.”

Rebecca cringed inside, braced for an awkward afternoon and then opened the door. But it wasn’t her brother-in-law. Isaac Bowman stood hat in hand on her small front porch.

He nodded to her. “Goot day, Rebecca. I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”

She stepped back. “Not at all. Won’t you come in, Isaac? My mother and I were just enjoying some cake and coffee. Would you care to join us?”

“I’d rather say what I’ve come to say and not waste time.”

Rebecca stepped out onto the porch with him. “As you please. I’ve only just heard about Samuel. I’m very sorry.”

“Danki. That is why I’ve come. I want to offer you a job. My wife needs a live-in helper until Samuel recovers. She is having trouble managing the store and the house with him abed. Noah normally works in the store in the afternoons but I’ll need all my sons in the fields when we start harvesting.”

“Can’t you close the store for a time? I’m sure your customers will understand. Or hire someone to work in it for your wife.”

“I could, but I’d rather not. You will think I’m cruel, but my wife needs to get away from Samuel. Away from thinking she must do everything for him. I know you took care of Emil Troyer before he passed away. The old man was blind, so you have had some experience with a sightless person. Please say you will help us, at least through the corn harvest. Anna won’t listen to me, but she knows you have experience with sick folks. She might listen to you. If you can’t help, maybe you could suggest someone else.”

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder. Her mother was scowling and shaking her head. If only her mother hadn’t latched on to the idea of pushing John and her together. Rebecca didn’t want to spend the next days and weeks thinking of excuses to avoid him. A new job was exactly what she needed. She graced Isaac with a heartfelt smile. “I can start today if you don’t mind waiting while I gather a few things.”

His expression flashed from shocked to pleased. “I don’t mind at all. Danki, Rebecca. You are an answer to my prayers.”

* * *

Samuel waited impatiently for his brother to adjust the pillows behind him. As usual, Luke was moving with the speed of cold molasses. With his eyes covered by thick dressings, Samuel had to depend on his hearing to tell him what was going on around him. Maybe forever.

If he didn’t regain his sight, his days as a master carver were over. He wouldn’t be of any use in the fields. He wouldn’t be much use to anyone.

He refused to let his thoughts go down that road. He prayed for healing, but it was hard to seek favor from God when he had no idea why God had visited this burden on him. He heard Luke shaking the pillows and then finally felt him slide them into place.

“There. How’s that?”

Samuel leaned back. It wasn’t any better, but he didn’t say that. It wasn’t Luke’s fault that he was still in pain and that his eyes felt as if they were filled with dry sand. After six days, Samuel was sick and tired of being in bed and no amount of pillow fluffing would change that, but he didn’t feel like stumbling around in front of people looking hideous, either. Only his mouth had been left free of bandages. He chose to stay in bed to avoid having others see him like this, but he didn’t have to like it.

He licked his swollen and cracked lips, thankful that he could speak. The doctor thought he must have thrown up his hands and that protected his lower face to a small degree. “It’s fine. Is there water handy?”

“Sure.”

Something poked his tender lip. He jerked away.

“Sorry,” Luke said. “Here is your water.”

Samuel opened his mouth and closed it around the drinking straw when he felt it on his tongue. He took a few long swallows and turned his head aside. He was helpless as a baby and growing weaker by the day. His legs and his back ached from being in bed, but he didn’t want to blunder around the room and risk hurting his hands in another fall. One was enough.