Courting Her Secret Heart

Caught between two worlds…

A Prodigal Daughters story

Deborah Miller lives a double life as an Amish woman—and a fashion model! All photography is forbidden in her Plain community, so she must keep her job a secret. But when Amos Burkholder starts helping at her family’s farm, hiding the truth from him is impossible. And soon she must choose between the Englischer world of modeling and the Amish man she’s come to love.

MARY DAVIS is an award-winning author of more than a dozen novels. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and is active in two critique groups. Mary lives in the Colorado Rocky Mountains with her husband of thirty years and three cats. She has three adult children and one grandchild. Her hobbies are quilting, porcelain doll making, sewing, crafts, crocheting and knitting. Please visit her website, marydavisbooks.com.

Also By Mary Davis

Love Inspired

Prodigal Daughters

Courting Her Amish Heart

Courting Her Secret Heart

Love Inspired Heartsong Presents

Her Honorable Enemy

Romancing the Schoolteacher

Winning Olivia’s Heart

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Courting Her Secret Heart

Mary Davis

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08589-2

COURTING HER SECRET HEART

© 2018 Mary Davis

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“My head is full of daydreams and nonsense…”

Amos narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t nearly as out of touch with things as you would like your family to believe. I believe you’re quite smart and intuitive.”

Deborah’s expression changed to a mix of shock and…pleasure? “You think I’m smart?”

“I told you that you need to tell me where you’re going.”

She gave him a tight smile. “You weren’t here.” She turned toward the buggy. “You want me to help you with finishing up?”

He should press the issue, but he didn’t want to argue with her, didn’t want to scare her away. “I would like that. Next time, tell someone where you’re going. I know you don’t understand or believe it, but I do feel responsible for everyone.”

“But you’re not. I can take care of myself.”

But he wanted to look after her. “Sometimes your family may not notice you, but I do.”

And she rewarded him with a sweet smile that made his brain a little fuzzy.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed the second book of the Prodigal Daughters miniseries, featuring Amish women with nontraditional hopes and dreams.

Before starting to write an Amish romance, I had to get to know who they were a little. Like a lot of people, I had preconceived notions of what the Amish were like. The more I researched the Amish, the more I fell in love with them. I learned things I never imagined and shattered the two-dimensional image I had of them and discovered a vibrant people.

I had so much fun coming up with these prodigal Amish women. As I said in the first book, I wanted to think of something an Amish person wouldn’t do. Being a fashion model is high on that list. My next challenge was getting her away from her family farm all the time without her family noticing. I felt so bad for Deborah that her family didn’t notice her regular absence, especially her mutter. So, I explored why they could be so callous toward her. If you’ve read this story, you know why, and if you haven’t yet, I won’t spoil it for you.

I loved getting to know Deborah and Amos and sharing their romance. Though Deborah may have thought she craved attention, she really just wanted to belong in her own family. Deborah’s prodigality was selfish, but when her family needed her, she was willing to sacrifice everything for them.

Deborah is dear to my heart not only because my heart ached for her misguided actions, but because I named her after my wonderful second oldest sister.

Until next time, happy reading!

Blessings,

Mary

No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

—Matthew 6:24

German Proverb: Wer zwei Hasen auf einmal jagt bekommt keinen.

“He who chases two rabbits at once will catch none.”

Dedicated to my awesome sister Deborah Spencer.

A special thanks to Melissa Endlich

and the editorial team at Love Inspired and to Sarah Joy Freese and WordServe Literary Agency. I’m so thankful to work with you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Elkhart County, Indiana

Deborah Miller ran to the clump of bare sycamore trees at the far edge of the pond on her family’s property. Fortunately, the latest round of snow had melted and the ground had dried, so she wouldn’t be leaving tracks.

Several ducks squawked their disapproval of her presence. With indignation, they waddled and flapped onto the frozen water.

Deborah cringed. “Sorry to disturb you. I’ll bring you some bread crusts tomorrow.”

The largest tree in the grove had a tangle of many trunks from its base, creating an empty space in the center. She scurried over and dropped her green, tan and white camouflage backpack into the hollow. A sprinkle of dried leaves on top, and no one would ever find it. Truth be told, she could leave her pack out in the open and no one would likely notice it. It would blend in with the tree’s patchwork bark.

She took off for the house, running between the stubbly winter cornfield rows. She was going to be late. She’d lost track of time, which was her usual excuse, but this time it was true. She could be gone all day and no one in her family ever noticed her absence. Or if they did, they never mentioned it. Apparently, keeping track of so many girls was too much trouble to bother with. Seven. And she was right smack-dab in the middle. Not the oldest. Not the youngest. Not anything.

Of late, everyone was fussing over Hannah and Lydia, who were both planning to marry this fall. Although no one was supposed to know, since neither wedding would be officially announced until late summer or early fall, but a lot of celery would be planted in the garden this spring. After all, they couldn’t have Amish weddings without celery.

It had been a gut photo shoot today. The sun was shining, and though cold out, it had been a perfect day. Even if by some strange chance her absence had been noticed and she got scolded for being gone, it wouldn’t dampen her mood. Nothing could spoil today.

Deborah pulled her coat tighter around herself as she slowed down and entered the yard, finding it oddly quiet. She needed to look as though she hadn’t been in a hurry and just lost track of time, as usual.

Chickens pecked at the ground, but no people could be seen. Where was everyone? Were all her sisters in the house with Mutter? That was peculiar. One or two were often outside at this time of day. Unusual to have caught them all in the kitchen.

An Amish man came out of the barn, carrying two empty buckets.

Who was he? She’d never seen him before. Though dressed Amish, she had to wonder if he belonged to their community. His light brown hair peeked out from under his black felt hat. The brim shaded his face. Just the type of rugged Amish man that Hudson, her photographer, had repeatedly asked her to find for photo shoots. What was this stranger doing on their farm?

She approached him. “Who are you?” Her words puffed out on little white clouds.

“I’m Amos Burkholder. Who are you?” He smiled.

A warm, inviting, disarming smile. The kind that could make her forget her purpose. A smile she wouldn’t mind retreating into. She mentally shook herself free of his spell. “I’m Deborah Miller. I live here. What are you doing on our farm? And where’s my family?”

“Deborah? I was told the whole family went to the hospital. What are you doing here?”

“Hospital? Why?” Her family went to the hospital and hadn’t noticed her absence? It figured.

“Bartholomew Miller had an accident. An ambulance came. Bishop Bontrager asked me to take care of things here until you all returned and your vater was able to work again.”

“My vater? Accident? What happened? Is he all right?”

“I don’t know the details. But if the bishop thinks your vater will be well enough to work his farm again, then I think he will be all right eventually. Would you like me to drive you into Goshen to the hospital?”

Deborah shook her head. “If I hitch up the smaller buggy, I can drive myself.”

“I’ll hitch it.”

“Danki.” Deborah ran into the house to grab her bag of sewing. In case she had a while to wait at the hospital, she wanted to have something to keep herself distracted from too much worry. When she came back out, Amos wasn’t much further along in getting the buggy ready.

Impatient, Deborah stalked over to the horse standing in the yard and took hold of the harness on the other side from Amos.

He stopped his progress. “I’m capable of doing this myself.”

Deborah hooked the belly strap. “I know.” What Amish person didn’t know how to hitch up a horse to a buggy by themself by age ten or twelve? “If I help, it’ll go faster.”

After a deep breath, he got back to the work at hand. Once the buggy was hitched and ready to go, he climbed in the side opposite her and took charge of the reins.

She put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you into town.”

“I told you that I can drive a buggy myself.”

“I know and have no doubt you’re capable, but you’re flustered over the news of your vater, and it would be best if you don’t drive in your present state.”

“Present state? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head. “Are you getting in? Or would you rather walk to town?”

With a huff, she climbed aboard and plopped down on the seat. “You are insufferable.”

He handed her a quilt for her lap, then gently snapped the reins and clucked the horse into motion. “If by insufferable you mean helpful, then danki.”

Why was she being so ill-tempered? This wasn’t like her. Maybe it was the news of her vater being injured. Or maybe it was her guilt of being away from the house when it happened. Or maybe it was because she knew she had been doing something her vater, her family and the community would frown upon. Or maybe it was all three. Whatever the reason, Amos didn’t deserve her poor attitude when he was being so helpful and kind. “I’m sorry for being difficult. I’m worried about my vater.”

“That’s understandable.”

She blew into her hands to warm them, then slipped on her knitted mittens. “I haven’t seen you before. Do you belong to a neighboring community district?”

“Ne. We live on the other side of the district. We moved here a year ago from Pennsylvania. We’re at church every other Sunday. You’ve even been to church at our farm. We obviously haven’t made a memorable impression on you. Or at least I haven’t.”

How could she not remember him? “Tell me a little about your family to remind me.”

“I am the youngest of five boys. The two oldest stayed in Pennsylvania and split the farm we had there.”

“I think I know who you are, or at least your family. I’m the middle of seven girls.”

“I know. I’ve seen you in church along with all your sisters.”

He’d noticed her?

“Tell me something, is Miriam spoken for or being courted by anyone?”

Evidently, he had his eye on her sister, who was a little over a year older than herself. That meant, it hadn’t been Deborah he’d noticed at church, but her sister. Disappointing. Someone else who overlooked her. “Timothy Zook seems interested in her.”

“Is she interested in him?”

“Some days ja, and others ne. Miriam likes a lot of boys. She can’t seem to decide which one she likes most. She’s so afraid of choosing the wrong man to marry, we fear she’ll never marry at all.” Deborah pulled a face. “I probably shouldn’t have told you all that. Please don’t hold it against her. She’s a very wonderful sister.”

His chuckle held no humor.

Was it truly Miriam she didn’t want him to think of poorly, or herself because of her derogatory words? Why should she care what this man thought of her? But she did. “Can you hurry? I need to know how my vater is.”

“I’m going as fast as the Ordnung allows.”

“But this is kind of an emergency. You would be allowed to go faster.”

He thinned his lips. “This isn’t an emergency. Your vater’s being well looked after. Whether it takes us five minutes or five hours to get there will have no bearing on your vater’s condition.”

He was right, of course, but she had already missed so much. She very much wished they were going by car. “When was my vater hurt?”

“First thing this morning.”

So long ago? He must have gotten hurt soon after she had slipped away. Now she really did feel guilty.

Like Amos said, if she got to the hospital with everyone else or in the next hour, she wouldn’t have been able to make a difference. But at least she could have been with her family. And know what was going on.

She settled her nerves for the plodding, boring journey. “Do you miss Pennsylvania?”

“Ne.”

That was a sharp reply.

“But you grew up there. Your friends are there. The rest of your family is there. Don’t you miss any of them?”

“Ne.”

Again, his single word sounded harsh.

“There’s nothing for me back there. This move was supposed to be gut.”

But she sensed it wasn’t. She wanted to press him, to understand why he seemed to harbor bitterness toward the place where he’d grown up, but doubted he would tell her anything. After all, they were basically strangers.

Eventually, Amos pulled in next to several other buggies outside the hospital.

She jumped out. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll get a ride back with my family. Danki.” She trotted inside. She inquired at the information desk and soon found her family, with all her sisters, as well as several other community members. Her vater sat in a wheelchair, waiting to be discharged.

His left arm rested in a sling, and his left leg was in a cast and propped on a pillow on one of the wheelchair’s leg supports. He’d chosen neon green. Would the church leaders approve of the color? Probably not, but they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until he had the cast changed in a few weeks.

Thirteen-year-old Naomi made a face at her.

Deborah ignored her younger sister, who liked to stir up trouble, and hurried over to him. “Vater, are you all right?”

Vater gave her a lopsided smile. “I’m feeling great. They gave me something for the pain. But I don’t have any pain.”

“There you are, Deborah.” Her mutter frowned. “I was wondering where you’d gotten off to. Did you go to the vending machines without telling me?”

Vending machines? Hadn’t her mutter noticed that Deborah had only just now arrived? That she’d been absent all day? Was she truly invisible to her family? Did any of them even care? No wonder she could be gone for hours and hours without repercussions. No one ever realized her absence.

Amos joined them then. “How are you doing, Mr. Miller?”

Vater waved his hands aimlessly through the air. “It’s Bartholomew. I don’t have any pain.”

Deborah turned to Amos. “I thought you left.”

“If you would have waited, I would have walked in with you.” He turned to Mutter. “I brought Deborah.”

Mutter gave Deborah a double take. “You weren’t here? Then where were you?”

Oh, dear. “I went for a walk, and before I knew it, I had gone farther than I realized, and it took me a while to get back home.”

“Oh.” Mutter turned back to the nurse behind Vater’s wheelchair. “Are we leaving now? I want to leave now. I have supper to start.”

“We need to wait for the doctor to sign the release papers.”

How had any of them survived infancy and childhood with Mutter always forgetting things? Well, mostly forgetting Deborah. She didn’t have trouble with the rest of her daughters. Just her middlemost one.

The familiar pang of being left out twisted around her heart. One of these days, she might decide not to return. Would her mutter even notice? Probably not.

Well, it had been a perfect day until she’d come home and found out her world had been turned upside down.

Amos’s inviting brown gaze settled on her. She wished now the buggy ride had taken longer. His look of sympathy warmed her heart. Well, at least he acknowledged her presence.

* * *

Amos studied Miriam, who smiled at everyone in the hospital waiting room. Did she truly like a lot of young men? Or was she just really nice? He’d been fooled by girls before. More than once. His gaze shifted back to Deborah. She stood on the edge of the crowd, with them but not really a part of them. How could no one have noticed she hadn’t been with the family when they left for the hospital? Or at least once they arrived. He admired how she seemed to take that in stride. The hospital lights didn’t spark the red hints in her hair the way the sun had.

Deborah turned to him, and he smiled at her without thinking. Her green eyes seemed as though she could see his broken heart. There was something more to her than met the eye. Something he couldn’t quite figure out. Like she had some sort of secret. Probably just his own guilty conscience. He didn’t want to look away, but he did.

From down the hall, a man stared at him. It was his cousin Jacob. His shunned cousin Jacob, who’d left the Amish church and community. He glanced back at the crowd of his fellow Amish waiting for Bartholomew to be released.

He moved around the crowd to Bishop Bontrager. “I have something I need to take care of. Will you let the Millers know that I’ll meet them back at their farm?”

The bishop nodded. “Ja. Danki for agreeing to lend them a hand. Bartholomew is going to be laid up for some time. Will your vater be able to spare you to stay on at the Millers’?”

“Ja. I’m sure he can.” His vater had already declared the farm not big enough for Amos. He glanced in the direction where Jacob had been. “I won’t be far behind everyone.” As he hurried down the hall, he threw a glance back over his shoulder at Deborah and almost went back to her, but didn’t. When he turned the corner, he came upon his cousin, who was leaning against the wall. Jacob looked strange but gut in his English clothes, jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. They suited his cousin. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you drive up with one of the Miller girls. Quite a collection of Amish you’re with. None of them your family, though. And the bishop.”

“Bartholomew Miller broke his leg.” Amos glanced back to make sure no one had followed him. “The bishop asked me to help out at their farm while they took him to the hospital.”

Jacob nodded. “You seemed pretty content with all of them. Are you still interested in leaving?”

Amos’s insides knotted. This would be a life-changing decision, but he didn’t see the use of the Amish life anymore. His vater didn’t have land enough for all his sons, and the Amish girls here seemed no different from the flighty ones back in Pennsylvania. Except Deborah. She seemed different. But that was what he’d thought about Esther. And Bethany. “Ja, of course I am.”

“It might take a few weeks to get everything set up. I’ll be in touch with more information.”

“I’ll wait to hear from you.” Once away from the community and no longer having to keep this a secret, he’d feel better about his decision. “I should go before they get suspicious.” Amos could be shunned just for talking to an ex-Amish member. But once he left, he would be shunned and turned over to the devil and excommunicated from the church, as well.

“See you soon.” Jacob walked off in the opposite direction of the waiting room.

Amos peeked around the corner. None of his Amish brethren remained, only a handful of Englishers. He straightened before heading down the hall and out to the buggy parking area.