Amish Reckoning

Torn between a secret and the world she left behind…

She can have him…or her secrets.

But keeping them both could mean losing everything.

A new client is just what Gail Lapp’s horse transportation business needs to survive. But as the single mom works with Amish horse trader Samuel Schrock, she’s pulled back into the world she left behind. And even though returning to her Amish life is enticing, it isn’t possible if she wants to keep the truth about her past hidden…

Growing up on a farm, JOCELYN MCCLAY enjoyed livestock and pursued a degree in agriculture. She met her husband while weight lifting in a small town—he “spotted” her. After thirty years in business management, they moved to an acreage in southeastern Missouri to be closer to family when their eldest of three daughters made them grandparents. When not writing, she keeps busy hiking, bike riding, gardening, knitting and substitute teaching.

Also By Jocelyn McClay

The Amish Bachelor’s Choice

Amish Reckoning

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Amish Reckoning

Jocelyn McClay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90705-1

AMISH RECKONING

© 2020 Jocelyn Ord

Published in Great Britain 2020

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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“Do you get to have toys?”

Unfortunately for Gail’s peace of mind, Lily wasn’t finished with her questions about Amish life. Gail lifted her daughter onto her hip.

“Okay. Time to go, Lily.”

But Samuel’s lips twitched with a smile. “Yes, we have toys. But they’re Amish toys and might be a little different than you’re used to.”

Starting to turn away, Gail paused when Lily reached out her hands to bracket Samuel’s lean cheeks. “I’m going to call you my Amiss man.”

Samuel’s white teeth were evident in the smile that stretched between her little hands. “I’m honored, Lily.”

With a stiff smile, Gail said goodbye and hustled out of the house and across to the truck. Hurriedly, she buckled Lily into her car seat. As she rounded the front of the truck, she waved an arm to Samuel, who’d stepped out of the house. Gail needed to get going. Before she did something foolish, like echoing that she’d like to call him her Amish man, too.

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Miller’s Creek, a community Gail Lapp wants to return to, although she’s concerned about what her welcome might be there.

I didn’t start out intending to tell a tale of a prodigal daughter, but Gail took it upon herself to write her own story. She just didn’t expect Samuel Schrock to disrupt it.

We all write our own stories in some way. So it’s comforting, since unlike a keyboard where there are delete and escape keys to revise our narratives, no matter what we might put on our pages, God wants a happy ending for us.

Thank you for the honor of allowing me to write about the growing community of Miller’s Creek. Hannah Lapp has been patient and calm as she waits for her own story. I wonder what it would take to disrupt her composure… I hope you’ll join me in finding out soon.

In the meantime, you can find me on Facebook.

May God bless you,

Jocelyn McClay

Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.

—1 Peter 5:7

Always, thanks to God for this opportunity. Thanks to Audra and Moriah for your candid and heartfelt input on sisterhood. Oldest grandchild Judah, you are a precocious inspiration. Lorelle and Debi, your valued feedback improved the story. Kevin, you showed me that romance can be as simple as reading my first novel when I was traveling because you missed me. And Genna, here’s to treasured Wednesday chats.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

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

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Today was going to change his life. The certainty thrummed through Samuel Schrock as he looked over the farmyard in the predawn darkness of the July morning.

A pinpoint of light pricked the horizon. The muted rumble of a large engine climbing a hill was an odd accompaniment to the growing whistles and calls of waking birds. Samuel stepped off the porch and rubbed his hands together. It was finally happening. He’d longed for this opportunity his whole life.

Smiling wryly, he acknowledged that twenty-two years might not be much of a lifetime according to some of the long-bearded elders in his Amish community. But for Samuel, it seemed like forever since his earliest memory—playing around the legs of his daed’s tall Standardbred, an adventure that almost got him kicked for his enthusiasm—instilled in him a love of horses.

Earning a living working with them had been his dream ever since.

When he and younger bruder, Gideon, had moved to Wisconsin to join their eldest bruder at the furniture business Malachi had purchased last fall, Samuel figured the dream would be put on hold while they established themselves in a new community. But thanks to the savvy of the operation’s previous owner, Schrock Brothers’ Furniture was already humming along successfully.

It just had one less Schrock brother working in it.

Watching the headlights’ steady approach, Samuel strode to the top of the lane. To the east, a seam of gold heralded the sun’s arrival, promising a beautiful day. Of course, today could be pouring down rain, and it would still be beautiful to him.

The engine picked up speed. Its rumble would probably wake up Gideon when it pulled into the yard. Ach, well. His bruder would survive. Those in the barn were already up. If the livestock had minded being fed a little early this morning, as Samuel had been awake for hours, they’d kept it to themselves.

Malachi agreed to let Samuel leave Schrock Brothers’ earlier than anticipated when old Elam Chupp retired from procuring horses for Miller’s Creek and other small Amish communities in the region. Kicked one too many times, Elam had explained, but it’d been said with a smile. Samuel had swiftly arranged to take over the business.

He loved his big brother dearly, but he’d lived his whole life in Malachi’s shadow. Now was his chance to break free. Earn his way, both economically and psychologically. Prove that he was more than just the charming Schrock brother.

The glow of light split into two separate beams. Samuel retraced his steps to the porch. He didn’t want to look too eager, too excited, too inexperienced. The outline of a pickup and a gooseneck trailer approached on the country road.

He’d hired the freight hauler Elam had used and recommended. Gale someone. According to Elam, the hauler was reliable and fair priced, the latter particularly important as margins on sales were slim. Samuel had inquired about other freight outfits and found them to be too expensive for his fledgling business to handle. Elam also said this carrier was decent company, a factor as the Milwaukee racetrack and other locations they’d travel to might be some distance away. Hence the early start.

The truck slowed, presumably looking for addresses as many of the Amish farms in the area looked similar with their big white barns and houses with no electric line connections. Remaining on the porch, Samuel waved an arm, unsure if the driver could see him. The pickup’s blinker came on. It turned into the lane.

Watching the truck’s approach, Samuel recalled Elam’s surprising principle advice. The older man had cautioned that trust—not a good eye for horseflesh or the ability to drive a hard bargain—was the biggest part of the job. Samuel sucked in a deep breath of the early-morning air. Folks had always liked him. He was aware, though, that there was a disparity between liking someone versus trusting and respecting them. Thoughtfully exhaling, Samuel pondered the difference. He didn’t anticipate any issue bridging that gap. There wasn’t any reason folks shouldn’t trust him. He was a man of his word.

Samuel raised an eyebrow as the rig made a circle in the farmyard. Not what he was expecting, although he didn’t know why he’d assumed the outfit would be brand-new. It wasn’t. The black quad-cab Dodge Ram, although certainly robust enough to handle the gooseneck trailer behind it, had been on the road a number of years. As had the trailer. But both looked in good working condition and were free of rust. Trailer rust and the potential resulting holes were deadly in hauling four-legged animals.

His other brow rose when the driver opened the door and descended from the cab. Well, that would teach him to make assumptions. Apparently, Gale was Gail. There was no mistaking the tall, trim figure encased in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, or the curly brunette ponytail swinging at the back of her head as anything but female.

Or the pitch of her voice when she asked warily, “Samuel Schrock?”

“Ja.” Samuel stepped off the porch, anticipating the smile that always greeted him when he met a woman. This one frowned. She looked disappointed.

The reaction was a new one for him. Bemused, he offered his hand, something Amish didn’t normally do, but was a common custom among the Englisch. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached out her slender one and clasped his for a single brief shake before snatching her hand back and sliding it down the front of her jeans like she was trying to wipe off something distasteful. Samuel blinked. He’d expected numerous new experiences today. But a woman finding him repulsive hadn’t been one of them.

He wasn’t upset that Gail was female. Women drivers passed him all the time on the road. Though they whipped by his buggy as fast as men—turning to gawk just as frequently, except for the ones who were on their phones in some manner as they drove—he had no issue with them. He was just surprised to see this one climb out of the robust pickup. She looked younger than he was.

But she had a problem with him for some reason. Women, particularly young ones, never had problems with him. Usually it was the other way around.

They stared at each other across a few feet of gravel in the farmyard. Him, with a friendly smile on his face. Her, with anything but. From the chicken coop, a rooster crowed, apparently deciding it was light enough to get about the day’s business. At the sound, Gail started, apparently deciding the same thing.

“Get whatever stuff you need and put it in the back of the cab.” She pivoted and reached for the door handle.

Samuel found himself facing her swinging ponytail. When she climbed into the cab without looking back, he shrugged. As his notebook, pen and bishop-approved cell phone were in his pocket, he headed for the passenger seat. Rounding the front end of the Dodge, he glanced through the windshield to where Gail already sat on the driver’s side. Her expression looked like she’d taken a bite of a fruit, expecting an apple and finding a lemon instead. Samuel sighed softly at the reality that a pretty girl didn’t always mean a pretty disposition. It could be a long ride to Milwaukee.

But not if he could help it. She was still female. He was good with women. Whatever issue she might think she had with him, he’d charm her out of it. Opening the door, he entered the truck and buckled himself in.

Shifting in the seat, he faced her now-solemn profile with its delicate brow and dainty nose. Particularly intriguing was the graceful shell of her ear outlined by hair pulled back into a high ponytail, a sight he didn’t often see. Frequently, Amish women’s ears were at least partially covered by their kapps.

“Elam told me about you, but there were some obvious things he left out,” Samuel cajoled.

Instead of the flirtatious response he expected, he got a muttered, “He didn’t tell me enough about you.”

It was a start. “I can tell you more, if you like.”

“That’s okay.” Gail quickly dismissed his offer as she reached for the key in the dash. The engine roared to life. She shifted into gear and the truck started down the lane. As they rolled past the white painted posts of the farm’s fence, a grin creased Samuel’s cheeks, his companion’s perplexing attitude temporarily set aside.

It had begun. His new adventure. His new job. This was his chance to make his life’s dream work. To prove himself as more than just a younger brother. And he would do everything in his control to make it successful.

They weren’t even out of the lane and Gail was already missing Elam. When he’d announced someone else was taking over his horse-trading business, she’d been expecting an Amish man like him. One wearing a gray beard of some length, indicating he’d been married for years. Slightly homely. Shorter than she was. Sweet. Not charming. Not attractive.

This one made the Ram’s cab feel like it had shrunk to the size of a fifty-five-gallon drum, and all the air had been sucked out of it. He made her feel small. And female.

A betraying warmth started in her cheeks and journeyed from there down to her toes in her worn work boots. The long-sleeve shirt she’d donned due to the cool morning now stuck to her flushed skin. Slanting a look at her passenger, she resented that he was so attractive he made her sweat. She cracked the driver’s window, causing her ponytail to flutter in the breeze. Bonnie’s air-conditioning system had been finicky lately. Gail didn’t want to push her luck with it now when she’d need it later in the heat of the afternoon. She prayed that the old pickup wouldn’t leave them sweltering.

“Gonna be a warm one today.” Her passenger’s rich baritone rolled through the cab.

His alluring voice was as disconcerting as his appearance. Gail clicked on the radio. Pop music blasted over the rumble of the engine and the wind’s rush through the window, making it difficult to hear. Therefore, difficult to talk. All the better.

They were both slung forward against their seat belts when she braked hard at the stop sign to the highway. It was a good thing there were no horses in the trailer yet. They’d have been knocked off their feet and possibly injured. The thought churned her stomach.

She smoothly pulled onto the pavement. Get a grip, Gail. Or you won’t have to worry about how much you don’t want to be around him. He’ll take his business elsewhere, and then where will you be?

Not in a good place. More broke than she was now. She needed this job. She’d been sick with worry when Elam announced he was retiring. The Amish hauls were critical in helping extremely frayed ends meet, especially with fall and the closing of the track for the winter approaching. Gail had already missed one payment on the truck and trailer when the Amish hauls stopped during the business transition. If she missed another payment, she’d lose her rig. The only jobs available to her with an eighth-grade education—waitressing, clerking and other part-time jobs—would barely support her.

On her own, she might be able to survive, but not with Lily. Gail had worked too hard to make it this far. No charming young Amish man, too attractive for his broad-fall britches, was going to upend her life.

Again.

Since he was her customer, a desperately needed one, Gail tipped her head toward the dash and raised her voice to be heard over the chirpy female one coming through the speakers. “Do you mind the music?”

He grinned at her across what had once seemed like a wide seat and shouted back, “No, not at all.”

Gail faced forward again, eyes on the road in front of her, resenting his charming smile.

He looked like a younger version of an actor. The big, brawny blond one who carried a hammer in the superhero movies she’d watched on her streaming service, the one perk her meager budget allowed. He should look ridiculous—Samuel, not the actor—but he didn’t.

He wore a flat-brimmed straw hat, suspenders, dark blue pants and work boots. His hair was a little shorter and cut differently than the long bowl style normally worn by Amish men. That indicated he was in his rumspringa, when a few more liberties were allowed. The sun-lined creases bracketing his crinkling blue eyes indicated the charming smile was frequently in place. Eyes that were about the same blue as the awakening sky beyond the windshield.

She despised blue eyes. She despised charming young Amish men. Blond ones were the worst. Shifting on the cloth seat, Gail scowled. He was attractive. She was attracted. Therefore, he was off-limits, as she’d proved herself a lousy judge of character with attractive men. Besides, it didn’t matter to her. It couldn’t. Because he was Amish. And she wasn’t.

Not anymore.

And although she longed to, she couldn’t go back. Not if she was going to keep her daughter.

A muffled boom merged with the reverberating percussion of the music and rush of the wind through the lowered window. The steering wheel jerked and began vibrating, pulling hard toward the side of the road. Gail tightened her grip like she was trying to hold on to a wild animal instead of a circle of plastic. Instantly nauseated at what it meant, Gail flicked on her blinker and let up on the gas. When she noted the intersection for a country road, she puffed out a breath in relief. Turning cautiously onto it, she pulled the truck off to the side and shut it down. In the ensuing silence, broken only by the cooling tick of the engine, she slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes.

“Oh, Bonnie. How could you do this to me? I was going to take care of you,” she muttered. “You were supposed to last just a little longer.”

“Is everything all right?”

No. Far from it. Opening her eyes, she glanced at Samuel and forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as sour as her stomach felt. “It’ll be fine.”

Although his brow furrowed, he seemed satisfied with her assurance. “You named the truck? We name our animals, but—” his eyes bounced around the cab’s interior “—this is a piece of metal.”

Not to Gail it wasn’t. All her hopes, dreams and sacrifices were tied up in the truck and the trailer behind it. Her and her daughter’s future were literally riding on the Dodge’s wheels. One of which was now most assuredly flat. As was her bank account, which couldn’t afford to replace it or the other three of matching condition.

At the moment, her too-attractive passenger was the least of her worries.

Chapter Two

With a heavy sigh, Gail set the parking brake, unbuckled and climbed from the truck. Pushing the door shut, she found the bottom third of the truck’s front wheel level with the road surface. Her shoulders sagged in relief when it looked like the rim had escaped damage. Gail strode to the back of the truck to get the spare tire.

She’d feared this was coming. She’d been pressing a penny into the truck tires for the last month, wishing that somehow Lincoln’s hairstyle would morph into something tall enough to reach the shrinking treads. Gail knew the tires wouldn’t make it through winter, but she’d hoped they’d at least make it into the fall before she needed to spend money she didn’t have.

Gail blinked back a threat of tears. Gott would provide. He always had. She just wished she didn’t have to be such a nuisance to Him.

Dropping the tailgate, Gail reached for the spare, only to see work-calloused hands grab hold of it first.

“I got it.”

Samuel’s arm brushed her shoulder. Gail’s startled inhalation caught a whiff of soap and the pleasant musk of horses. Hastily stepping back, she bumped her head on the gooseneck of the trailer. It made less of an impact to her equilibrium than finding herself the focus of Samuel’s blue eyes and dazzling smile.

“I knew this day would be full of new adventures. Just didn’t expect them to start before we got to the track.” Lifting the tire from the truck bed, he added, “We can’t leave Bonnie here lingering with a broken leg.” He nodded toward the flat tire. “What do you use to lift the truck?”