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

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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?”

“I’ll get the jack.” Gail ducked under the gooseneck, dashed to the front passenger door and uncovered the jack assembly. When she turned in the V of the open truck door, he was there. She held the jack in front of her like a shield. It wasn’t much protection against her escalating heartbeat that hammered away at his nearness. “Got it,” she said unnecessarily. To her relief, he stepped back and she skirted around him to the tire, pulled off the hubcap and began setting up the jack. Seconds later Samuel crouched at her shoulder.

He was too much like the Amish charmer she’d fallen for years ago, too close for her ricocheting senses and too tempting for her obvious poor judgment in men.

“Do you…ah…know what it is to block a wheel?”

Samuel smiled at her as if she’d asked if he knew what shoofly pie was. “Ja, I think I can handle that.”

“Can you block the far rear one?” The errand would give her a moment of space. Working quickly, she had the jack in place and the nuts loosened by the lug wrench. Gail was starting to loosen the nuts the rest of the way manually when Samuel’s fingers reached for the next lug nut and their hands brushed. Gail jerked hers back. As he quickly loosened that one and moved on to the next, she dropped the nut she held into the upturned hubcap with a clang and stood.

The remaining bolts were quickly stripped of lug nuts under his capable fingers. Samuel pulled the flat tire off and set it aside. “It’s pretty much like changing a buggy wheel—” he grunted as he lifted the spare onto the bolts “—except with rubber, heavier, wider and the buggy has a name.” He shot her a grin over his shoulder. “Where’d you come up with Bonnie?”

“Ah.” Gail wasn’t going to mention that Bonnie, a big Percheron mare, had been her favorite among her daed’s draft horses. “Um, black truck. Bonnie starts with B. Just popped into my head when I was driving.” One time when I was traveling long miles by myself, trying to support a child, so homesick I cried for about sixty miles. I just needed something from home.

Gail slid the hubcap with the lug nuts within his reach. Grabbing the deflated tire, she maneuvered it to the truck’s tailgate, wrestled it into the bed and slammed the tailgate shut. Samuel had stepped back from the wheel by the time she returned. Kneeling, Gail released the jack and used the wrench to finish tightening the nuts.

“I can do that.” Samuel’s voice came from just off her shoulder.

Gail switched the wrench to the next nut, her brow lowering as she stared at the tread of the spare. It wasn’t in much better condition than the flat they’d removed. Reality settled in like the weight of the truck on the unjacked tire. “I got it. My truck, my responsibility. But thanks for your help.” He must have heard the dismissal in her tone, as he stepped aside. Gail could feel his gaze on the back of her head.

Concern for her and Lily’s future chased away the long-dormant feelings of awareness and attraction that’d fluttered like a newly caged bird through her. She had no time for such frivolous things when their livelihood was at risk. Without another word, she stored the jack assembly, leaving the front passenger door open in unspoken invitation for him to get into the truck. As she rounded the hood, Gail glanced dejectedly at the other front tire, apprehensive now that it’d blow out as well before they reached the city. She’d let it go too far. They all needed replacing. There was no more postponing the inevitable.

With slumped shoulders, she climbed into the truck. Returning to the highway intersection after finding a lane in which to turn around, Gail looked to the right and found Samuel watching her. Giving him a weak, warped smile, she turned on the radio again. Upbeat music, contradictory to her mood, reverberated through the cab as she pulled onto the road.

As they headed toward Milwaukee, Gail didn’t know which was more detrimental to her peace of mind—the attractive Amish man beside her or her nonexistent finances that were about to get worse.

Finances won. With risky tires, she couldn’t make any income. Without the income, she’d lose the rig. Without the rig—Gail inhaled sharply through her nose—she could lose her daughter.

When Samuel asked a few questions, Gail cranked the music to avoid conversation and the distraction it brought. Hands firm on the steering wheel in case another of Bonnie’s tires decided to go, she sent up a simple prayer. Gott said not to worry about tomorrow, but that was hard to remember when your future was riding on four bald tires and an empty bank account.

Unfortunately for her bank account, but fortunately for the sorry turn of events, Gail had no extra hauls scheduled that day. At the track, she took a moment to introduce Samuel to a few key people, primarily trainer George Hayes, before leaving the trailer in the track’s back parking lot and heading for the tire dealer George had recommended.

Safety first. The thought drummed through her head in concert with her fingers that rested on the open window. Her daughter was an occasional passenger. Her reputation transporting horses depended on it. Gail’s heart pounded at the possibility of a blowout and loss of control when Lily was in the truck, or an equine passenger was in the trailer.

She could live without air-conditioning. She had for years growing up. She couldn’t live without safe tires. Getting a complete set was the right thing to do. Even knowing that truth, her stomach twisted as later she handed over the credit card that already had a balance higher than her bank account.

She’d have to get an extra job. Gail’s stomach wrenched further. That would mean more missed time with her three-year-old daughter. It felt like she was rarely home as it was.

Home. Gail flattened her lips at the thought of it. Not the tiny basement apartment she shared with Lily, but the well-kept farm Gail had grown up on. If only she could go home…

Picking up the newspaper in the waiting area, she flipped to the want ads. There were jobs, but nothing she was qualified for. Gail dropped the paper and crossed her arms. Hopefully, Samuel knew what he was doing and was more than just a pretty face. Although Gail made some money with him as a passenger, the real money was when she was hauling horses. If he bought even one or, better yet, two today, it would help her desperate finances. She’d be thrilled enough to ignore her hard-earned wariness and hug Samuel Schrock’s handsome neck.

If he’d only buy a horse.

Samuel waited outside George Hayes’s stable block where Gail had left him that morning.

It’d been a wunderbar day. Knowing that he looked strange even for a stranger, Samuel had been uncharacteristically nervous when he’d first arrived at the track, but the few brief introductions from Gail had set him on an effective course for the day. He’d even bought a horse, an older gelding that no longer made the time trials, from George. It was a risk on his first day, but Gail obviously respected the older man, so Samuel figured it was safe to do so, as well.

He smiled at the thought of his freight hauler. Old Elam must’ve had something he didn’t, because if Gail was what Elam called decent company, the man hadn’t gotten out much. Or had spent too much time with only horses.

Of course, maybe she didn’t get out much, either, if she was naming her truck. He snorted at the memory. Samuel almost wished there’d been four tires needing changing instead of just the one. She’d seemed almost friendly there by the side of the road.

But as soon as they’d climbed back into the truck, it was back to business and ear-ringing music. Samuel liked Englisch music, but he liked a good conversation, as well. Particularly one with a pretty woman. With her dark hair and expressive blue eyes, Gail-the-freight-hauler was definitely a pretty woman.

One who was as skittish around him as an unbroken filly. Old Elam had indicated that trust was paramount in his new position, but Samuel had never figured that would be an issue with women. He’d never had a problem with them before, Amish or Englisch. He didn’t expect one now, but it was hard to flirt with a woman while shouting. And every effort of his had been deflected. The woman certainly had a way with words. A way of speaking as few of them as possible.

The July afternoon sun beat down on him. Using a knuckle to tip his flat-brimmed hat farther back off his sweating forehead, Samuel watched the horse and the human traffic that flowed around him. It was quieter in the stable block now than it’d been earlier. A number of equine athletes were already returned to their stalls for the day. Latecomers from the track passed, some with jog carts, most with racing bikes; their nickers of greeting to their stablemates along with the stomps of shod hooves, rattle of stall doors and murmur of distant conversations were muffled in the sultry air.

Glancing down the shed row, Samuel caught sight of Gail, immediately recognizable from her long but feminine stride and graceful lean figure. She walked like she had someplace to go and was intent on getting there. His lips curved into an admiring smile. Although he enjoyed the efforts of the young Amish women who’d vied for his favor, none had caught his attention. But this one might. Samuel’s smile widened. Then she’d throw it right back at him.

She’d been in the back of his mind all afternoon, which was disconcerting as so many wunderbar new things had been peppering the front. His driver was very attractive indeed, but Samuel wasn’t about to do anything to risk their professional relationship. He needed Gail for his business. And based on the age of the truck, the trailer and her worn blue jeans, she needed him as a customer.

While it’d been a gut day for him, as Gail got closer he could tell from her drooping shoulders that it hadn’t been such a gut one for her.

She stopped several feet away from him. “Ready?” Distressed or not, she wasn’t one to dawdle.

Samuel nodded and tipped his head back toward George’s stable block. “Need to pick up a horse first.”

“Really?”

For a moment Samuel thought he was seeing a second sunrise in the day, the way Gail’s face lit up. She lunged forward, her arms lifted like she was going to throw them around his neck.

Chapter Three

They were inches apart for a breathless moment before Gail took a step back, her face as red as some racing silks that he’d seen on the track that day. Releasing a quiet sigh, Samuel regretted that she hadn’t come to her senses a few seconds later.

Samuel knew he’d love this job. And if this was the way his pretty driver reacted when he made a purchase, he envisioned himself quickly gaining a small herd of horses, the big white barn at the farm bursting at the seams.

Gail awkwardly rubbed her hands together. “Let’s, ah, let’s go get him, then.”

Nodding, Samuel turned and headed for the stall that held his new purchase, with Gail falling in step beside him.

“He’s a sweetie.” Gail ran a hand down the sleek neck of the gelding while Samuel obtained a lead rope from the attending groom. “I can tell by his eyes. They’re patient. Approachable. Calm.” She smoothed the horse’s forelock over the bay’s broad forehead.

Samuel suppressed his responding snort. That was at least three qualities the gelding didn’t share with the woman petting him. Snapping the lead rope to the horse’s halter, he unhooked the half door and led the horse out. “Those characteristics might be the very reasons he’s coming with me instead of staying at the track.” The steady clip-clop of the bay’s steps accompanied them as they headed for the parking lot.

“Different realities in life require different strengths. I’m sure he’ll do fine in his new role. You have a prospective buyer for him?”

“I’ve got a neighbor who mentioned he was looking for a new horse for his wife. I’m thinking this one might be a good fit.”

On the other side of the horse, it was quiet a moment before he heard her murmur, “Good. Sometimes it’s hard to find the right fit for your life.”

When they reached the truck and trailer, the gelding loaded like the pro he was. After watching Gail secure the trailer latch, Samuel walked the length of the trailer, pausing when he reached the rear of the truck and noticed the tires, all dark and shiny.

He raised his voice to be heard across the truck where she was approaching the driver’s side. “You didn’t just replace the one?”

From the far side of the truck he heard the slam of the cab door. Gail didn’t respond until Samuel climbed in beside her. “They all needed to be replaced. It’s safer.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “Don’t want to give our new passenger a ride like this morning.” She started the engine and rolled down the windows. “Or worse.”

They pulled out of the parking lot, the open windows letting in a hot breeze. As they took the ramp to the interstate, the truck’s speed picked up, as did the rush of air into the cab. Although loud, it didn’t prohibit conversation like the music had on the way in.

Gail glanced over, frowning apologetically. “Sorry about the windows. The air-conditioning is misbehaving.”

Samuel grinned. “S’all right. It’s about the only thing I’ve faced today that I’m used to. At home, instead of the breeze blowing in the side windows, it’s coming through the front. And it doesn’t come as fast.”

He thought her lips tipped up toward a smile, but he wasn’t sure. “Bonnie seems a bit cantankerous.”

Gail patted the weathered dash. “She’s all right. Just needs a little support and TLC now and then, like all of us.”

“Speaking of support, thank you for the introductions this morning.”

“No problem.” For a few miles, except for the streaming wind noise, it was silent. Samuel saw Gail glance at the radio, like she was thinking of turning it on, but didn’t. Instead, she pitched her voice above the cab noise and asked, “Elam didn’t mention much about you. Are you originally from the Miller’s Creek area?”

“Nee. Moved up to Wisconsin from Ohio last year. Followed my older bruder.” He shrugged. “Seems I’m always following him in some manner. This is my first solo adventure. Malachi’s very successful. He’s…” Samuel struggled with words that would accurately describe his bruder. “I admire him greatly, but it’s time for me to strike my own path. That’s why this job opportunity is wunderbar. It’s a chance to make my own way doing something I love.” He rested an elbow on the edge of the open window. “You ever feel like a sapling under the shade of a huge oak tree?”

Samuel glanced over at Gail. Her mouth was slightly open, as if she was about to say something, but all the conversation was in her eyes. It must have been a difficult one. Samuel didn’t speak, waiting to hear what she wanted to share. When she remained silent, he took pity on her.

“What? No music this time?” To him, it was a victory. The comment earned him another small smile.

Gail clicked on the radio and adjusted it so it was just a quiet thrum under the sound of the breeze. Her shoulders rose and fell under a slow, deep sigh. “So what does your oak of a brother do?”

Samuel grinned at the reference. It was an apt description of Malachi. “He owns a furniture business. A shop and the attached store in Miller’s Creek. Used to be Fisher Furniture.”

Gail remembered Fisher Furniture. It’d been a fixture on Miller’s Creek’s main street. She used to love going into town on shopping day. “What happened to the Fishers?”

“Amos Fisher died sometime back. Don’t know the cause, but he’d apparently been sick awhile. Bishop Weaver wouldn’t allow his daughter to continue to own the shop that employed several men, so she had to sell. Malachi bought the business and a farm—the one you picked me up at this morning—and we moved in.”

Gail’s fingers tightened on the wheel as she recalled her own encounters with the Weaver family. She wasn’t surprised to hear Bishop Weaver had forced another Amish community member into something against their wishes.

From her peripheral vision, Gail could see that Samuel was smiling. He always seemed to be smiling. Didn’t the man take anything seriously? “What?” she pressed when he didn’t say any more.

“In the move, Malachi ended up with the business and a wife. He married the previous owner’s daughter. I’m not sure how that happened. Most of their interactions that I witnessed had her fluffed up like an outraged cat. But one day she was making arrangements to leave the community and seems like the next, their upcoming wedding was announced in church.”

Gail remembered Ruth Fisher, as well. She was glad for her. She’d always liked the energetic Ruth. Glancing over at her passenger, she found Samuel watching her pensively, like he was going to ask her something. Possibly something about her own history.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“So, what? You flunked at making tables, chairs and dressers?”

“If flunk is the same as fail, I didn’t flunk at anything. Not to be hochmut, but I was a pretty good furniture maker.”

Gail’s own lips twitched at the wry grin on his handsome face.

“Most of the time,” he conceded. He shifted in his seat, turning more to face her. “Ruth caught occasional, very minor—” he held his fingers a hairbreadth apart “—errors and made me correct them. When they were married, they moved to Ruth’s farm. With settling into the farm, the furniture business and now a new wife, my bruder has his hands full. One of the reasons that Malachi released me from the business was that I’m taking on more of the farmwork for both places. I’m gut with that. My bruder is a fair boss, but I’d rather be working outside and with livestock instead of being under a roof all day.”

That was something Gail easily understood. She missed being part of a working farm. The baby animals in the spring. The warm earth beneath her bare feet in the garden. Lily would’ve loved those and other aspects of a close-knit family farm life. If only they could go home…

“So who’s your oak?”

Although Gail’s eyes were on the road and the sweeping Wisconsin countryside, her older sister immediately came to mind. She hadn’t talked about her family to anyone in years. The vehicle slowed as a tsunami of homesickness swept over her. Glancing over, Gail found Samuel watching her again. There was no judgment in his gaze. Only a speck of…commiseration? She returned her attention to the highway in front of her.

“My sister. She’s perfect. Never puts a foot wrong no matter the situation.” The words escaped before she realized it. Puffing out a breath, Gail continued, “Which was the opposite of me growing up. I was more impulsive, which sometimes got me in trouble.” She frowned. “I’d like to despise her perfection, but in addition to being perfect, she’s…sweet. Really nice. Sincerely nice.”

Recollections of her older sister made Gail swallow hard. She shot a look at Samuel again. He was nodding his head solemnly, as if he understood.

“Ach, I see what you mean. She isn’t like you at all.”

Gail blinked and dropped her jaw as she processed what he’d said. Without thinking, she reached out and bumped his shoulder with her fist. He didn’t try to dodge, just grinned his magical grin.

“So how did you become such a fine, sturdy tree, then?” There was humor in his voice, but all thoughts of responding to its playful timbre evaporated from Gail at the memory of how she’d had to change so much, so fast.

“I moved away.” Leaning forward, she flicked up the volume on the radio. “And never went back.”

To her dismay, he reached out and turned it back down. “Why not?”

Gail strove to ignore the warmth that ran up her spine at the rich tone of his voice. She attributed it to the thought of revealing her history. Wasn’t going to happen. An expert in redirection, she responded, “I’d always heard that men liked to talk about themselves.”

Although her eyes were fixed on the windshield in front of her, she could hear the smile in his voice. “You must be thinking of Englisch men. It would be too hochmut for an Amish man to do so.”

Gail snorted. “And you aren’t proud?” There was an unexpected silence where she’d expected a quick retort.

His voice was thoughtful when he finally responded. “Not hochmut. Just…confident. Sometimes it takes confidence to get things done. To face new situations. If I didn’t have some level of confidence, how could I have the courage to leave my old job and start a new, uncertain one?”

Gail pulled off the highway onto the country road that led to his farm. She was surprised at his insight. If she hadn’t had some level of confidence in herself, she’d never have made it as a pregnant teenager leaving the Amish community. It had tested every minute amount she’d had. Still did.

She’d already succumbed once to a charming Amish man. Look where that’d gotten her. While she couldn’t afford to lose this man as a customer, she couldn’t afford any attraction to him. Gail tightened her grip on the steering wheel. As long as Samuel limited his obvious passion to his job and not his driver, they wouldn’t have a problem.

Slowing for the turn into his lane, she glanced toward the big white house. What she saw in the farmyard drove the breath from her body.

Climbing into a buggy were two women, one petite with auburn hair, the other tall and blonde.

Hissing in a breath, Gail made the careful turn off the road and pulled to the edge of the two-track gravel lane. Not wanting to stop—that might prompt the approaching buggy to do so, as well—she kept the truck inching along as far to the side of the driveway as she could. Blindly, she flipped up the armrest beside her and dug in between the seats until she closed her fingers on the brim of her ball cap. Snatching it, with one hand still clenched on the steering wheel, she awkwardly tugged it on, pulling the brim as low on her forehead as possible. Whipping her head toward the pasture that bordered the lane, she tried focusing her gaze on the two placid Belgians grazing there, only to see Samuel watching her, a puzzled frown on his face.

“It’s my sister-in-law, Ruth, and her friend Hannah Lapp. Every once in a while they take pity on my younger bruder, Gideon, and me and bring over some food. Unfortunately, they draw the line at housecleaning and doing laundry. They’ve seen female Englisch drivers before. Don’t worry.”

He lifted a hand to wave. Gail captured his hand, surprising them both. Jerking hers back, Gail grabbed the wheel with both hands. Unrestrained, Samuel gave a friendly wave to the pair, his eyes remaining on Gail. His look said he probably thought she was jealous. Let him. It was the least of her concerns.

Gail glanced up the lane. From the corner of her eye, she saw the two women wave back. Beneath the kapps whose ribbons floated in the breeze of the moving buggy, Gail could easily make out their smiling faces. Hunching her shoulders, she sank lower in the seat. When the two vehicles were side by side, she put her hand by her face, ducked her head and stared at the footwell under Samuel’s seat. Breathing shallowly, she could hear the clip-clop of hooves and the buggy wheels crunching on gravel as they passed a few feet away. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop… The mantra echoed in her head as she counted the eyelets on his brown work boots.

The truck inched forward. When the sounds of the rig faded, Gail dragged in a deep breath.

“They’re gone.”

Lifting her head, Gail checked the rearview mirror to ensure the buggy wasn’t turning around. Only when their Standardbred sprang into a ground-covering trot did her anxiety ebb. Silently, she drove up the rest of the lane and circled the farmyard to back the trailer toward the barn. Shifting into Park, she reluctantly faced Samuel.

His eyes were hooded. “Do you have a problem with Amish women? The choices they’ve made? Maybe they don’t have the liberties you do in the Englisch world. But it’s a noble life.”

Now dizzy with relief, Gail shook her head. No, she had no problem with Amish women. She’d intended to be one. She’d planned to take her place in the Amish community. But sometimes life changed course on you.

The Belgians in the pasture welcomed the newcomer with a chorus of neighs, which he energetically returned from the trailer, jolting her back from the past. “No problem. I just need to get your horse unloaded so I can get back on the road.”

Never before had she unloaded a horse so quickly. Usually, she loved an opportunity to explore big Amish barns, but not today. As she drove down the lane ten minutes later, Gail tugged off the cap, tossing it on the passenger seat. Her head flopped back against the headrest. Yes, she had a problem with those women. One in particular. The blonde one. She was the most beautiful Amish woman Gail had ever seen.

Her older sister hadn’t changed at all.

Chapter Four

The empty trailer rattled down the lane. Hands on his hips, Samuel watched the truck turn and accelerate down the country road. She was going faster than normal. What’d upset her?

Returning to the shadowed interior of the barn, he unhooked the halter and tugged the lead free from where he’d hastily tied the gelding in a stall when he realized the clanking that’d followed him into the barn was Gail securing the door of the trailer at lightning speed. By the time he’d reached the double doors of the barn, she was pulling out.

He’d wanted to say farewell. Ach, more so, he’d wanted to probe a little about her strange reaction when Ruth and Hannah passed them in the lane. The usual Englisch response when they saw Amish was either to stare outright or pretend they weren’t when they really were. Perhaps Gail had worked with Elam so long and delivered enough horses to his farm that she had a more nonchalant response? But her actions had been anything but disinterested. She’d almost slunk all the way to the floorboards. He doubted she could see over the dash as the truck crept up the lane.

Gail didn’t seem to have a problem with him. Well, she had a problem with him but not in that way. Maybe she had an issue with strangers? If she had, she was capable of getting over it, as the folks at the track appeared to like her well enough.

His new purchase wandered around the unfamiliar stall, nosing the fresh straw cushioning the floor. Samuel hooked the stall door closed. Ascending the ladder to the hayloft, he dropped down a fresh bale. When he climbed back down, his mare, Belle, and the new gelding were eyeing him with interest.

He snorted at their avid attention, the dust motes kicked up by the dropped bale swirling about him. “Too bad women aren’t as easy to understand as you two. I can tell by your ears what you want.” Unbidden, the vision of Gail’s ears under her high ponytail sprang into his mind. Samuel tripped over the bale as he went to get the knife that hung on the barn wall to cut the twine. Quickly recovering, he glanced sheepishly back to the watching bays.

“You don’t mind a quiet conversation instead of a loud radio.” He snorted again. “You answer about the same amount of questions. In fact, I probably know as much or more of your history, even upon our short acquaintance, than I do hers.” Samuel rubbed the gelding’s forehead when the horse reached over the stall wall to lip some loose hay from his shirt.

Bending, Samuel cut the twine from the bale. It relaxed into an accordion of separate flakes, releasing a strong scent of fresh-cut hay.

“I’d like to say I like you better for your straightforwardness. But I don’t want to lie. There’s just something…” Samuel breathed in the sweet hay aroma, one of his favorite smells. He realized, though, as he tossed a few flakes of it into each horse’s manger, that a more intriguing one now was the clean soap fragrance that’d greeted him this morning when he climbed into the truck’s cab with Gail. Samuel frowned as he straightened up the open bale.

“A mysterious woman just makes a man wonder.” Ambling over to Belle, he stretched out a hand to scratch her between the ears. She jerked her head up and swung it out of reach, avoiding his touch. Shaking his head, Samuel retreated, giving her space to return to the hay in the manger. “Or maybe I’m just a fool for skittish females.”

Turning his back on the mare, he crossed to a large pen in the back of the cavernous barn, vaulted the low gate there and strode through the pen to open the door that exited to an attached pasture. Jeb and Huck, the two Belgians, were waiting just outside. Gabby, the Guernsey cow, wasn’t far behind. “It’d be nice if she’d trust me like you all do.” Stepping aside as the trio entered the barn, he looked down the road in the direction the truck and trailer had taken. “Something for me to work on, I figure.”

Gail hadn’t seen Hannah in years. Four, to be exact, when Gail’s pregnancy was getting too difficult to hide. The day her folks were gone to an auction, when she’d walked down the lane with her eyes full of tears and her hands full of the few possessions she could carry to the bus stop.

Hannah had followed her to the road, her normally pristine apron wadded in clenched fists, trying to convince Gail to stay. But after a lingering final embrace, Gail had started walking. She hadn’t looked back.

With only an eighth-grade education, as per Amish practice, even part-time jobs for her were scarce. Somehow she’d ended up at the racetrack and Gott had answered her fervent prayers. Standardbred trainer George Hayes had needed a stable hand. Or maybe George hadn’t. Maybe he’d just known that Gail desperately needed a job. He gave her one.

She’d learned to drive, as a license didn’t require a high school diploma and it was something she could do while roundly pregnant. She’d scrimped together enough to put a small down payment on Bonnie and the trailer. Although the years since had been tough, she thought they’d finally be able to make it.

Until she hit a rough patch and missed some payments.

Scouring the rural area she traveled in for cheaper rent and childcare, Gott had again answered Gail’s prayers when she found a widow with a small basement apartment who was thrilled to watch Lily during the day. The downside was its proximity to Miller’s Creek. If the wrong person found out about Lily, she risked losing her daughter. But if Gail couldn’t keep a roof over their heads, she could lose her anyway. And that would happen if the truck and trailer were repossessed.

She’d worried Elam would recognize her. When he didn’t say anything, Gail allowed herself a sliver of hope. Later in conversation he admitted that he didn’t pay a lot of attention to the youngies and she breathed easier, casually probing him for news of home. That was how she learned about the death of Atlee Weaver, Lily’s father.

No. No one from Miller’s Creek could know she was nearby.

The buggy had fortunately turned down another road. Gail stopped at the intersection, shifting into Park. Crossing her wrists over the top of the steering wheel, she dropped her forehead against them.

She missed her family.

Seeing Hannah was like having a swollen river top a levee and weaken it, threatening to wash away the whole protective barrier.

She wanted to go home.

Gail raised her head at the sound of a passing car. Her eyes blinking back tears, she considered the roads before her. If she turned one way, it led to the small town where she lived. If she turned another…it would take her down the country road that led to her family’s farm.

Shifting the truck into gear, Gail turned on the country road and drove by well-remembered territory.

Her pulse started throbbing when her family’s white-painted buildings topped the landscape. I’m not going to turn my head to look as I pass. Too much like Englisch gawkers. Even so, the truck slowed to a crawl when she reached the beginning of her daed’s property, as Gail scanned the neat farmyard.

The wash was on the line. Oh my, the pants were getting long. Her younger brothers must be growing so big. Aprons and solid-colored dresses fluttered in the breeze. Dropping a quick glance to her jeans, Gail tried to remember the last time she’d worn a Plain dress.

She dashed a hand across her tear-blurred eyes when she saw the apron-wearing figure in the garden. Mamm. Against her resolve, Gail twisted her head, continuing to look as she drove past. A loud blare of a horn had her swerving the pickup back to her side of the road. A driver glared at her through the window of a passing SUV. A tug on the steering wheel warned the wheels of the trailer had dropped into the shallow ditch. She’d lose her livelihood if she tore up her rig. Berating herself, Gail eased the trailer back onto the blacktop surface.

Maybe some church Sunday when she knew they’d be gone, she’d drive by with Lily. Nothing would be said about unknown grandparents, but Gail could point out what a beautiful and carefully maintained farm looked like. Yes, they could do that. Lily would enjoy it and she…she needed to show her.

Did Mamm have any grandchildren beside Lily? Surely Hannah was married by now. Or was the reason Hannah was coming over with Ruth to the Schrock farm because she was interested in Samuel?

The truck shot forward with the sudden pressure on the gas pedal. It slowed again when Gail forced her foot to relax. What girl wouldn’t be? Gail’s stomach twisted as she vividly recalled being second choice for an attractive Amish man before. And the bleak outcome.

Get over him, Gail. She shouldn’t be dreaming about an Amish man. If Samuel happened to marry her sister, well…it wasn’t like she’d be around to see them together.

She longed to head straight home to where Lily waited for her. But the black-and-white Holsteins in her daed’s pasture had reminded her of their milkless refrigerator. She’d intended to grab some groceries while in town, but the flat tire and her new customer had driven everyday things from her mind.

Even with the warm breeze that blew through the open window, a cold sweat broke out over Gail. She couldn’t afford to drive the many miles out of the way to another grocery store when there was one almost in her path. If she went into Miller’s Creek.

Surely Gott had tested her enough today? Surely she could run into a store without seeing someone she knew? The meager amount in her checkbook persuaded her that the odds should be in her favor.

Gail pulled into the small grocery store’s parking lot. Her left foot bounced in the footwell when she saw the horse and buggy hitched to the rail made available for Amish customers. She stilled the action with a hand on her leg. It’s not Mamm or Daed. Hannah wouldn’t have had time to get into town. I look different. No one else knows me as well. As long as it isn’t… But what are the chances that out of all in the community, it’s Ruby Weaver’s buggy? The woman probably doesn’t do anything as mundane as grocery shopping. She’s too busy manipulating lives.

Retrieving the baseball cap from the passenger seat, she tugged it low on her forehead. With a deep breath, Gail exited the truck and hurried across the parking lot. Slipping through the sliding doors, she ignored the carts and scanned the produce section for anyone wearing a dress and kapp. The coast was clear. Exhaling slowly, Gail peeked into the first aisle. Finding it empty, she headed for the back of the store.

Gail flicked her gaze down the aisles as she passed. Clear. Clear. Noting the sign indicating box goods, her breath hitched at the sight of a woman in an aisle until she quickly identified the shopper by attire as Englisch. She trotted down it to grab a box of mac and cheese. Returning to the refrigerated coolers at the back of the store, she snagged a package of hot dogs and a gallon of milk. Gail’s shoulders relaxed as she rounded the endcap of the last aisle. Just a loaf of bread and she was done. No one is going to recognize me. It’s been four years. I’m an unreasonable coward, except the stakes are so high. But that’s only if I see…

Gail stood motionless, almost as if she’d become one of the items in the hip-high freezer at her side. Atlee’s mother, Ruby Weaver, was halfway down the aisle, wearing a frown like a required piece of clothing as she stared at the shelf in front of her. While the years had changed Gail, time hadn’t made a difference to Ruby. The belt of her apron sagged at the waist of her gaunt figure. Her kapp, pressed in iron folds, was anchored scrupulously to her steel-gray hair. Ruby’s eyes were narrowed on the container in her hand, as if she planned to recommend shunning it for offending her in some manner.

It was a look Gail remembered well. An amplified version of it had pinned a sixteen-year-old Gail to a barn wall where Ruby had cornered her alone after the church service announcing Atlee’s engagement—to another girl. Calling Gail a jezebel, the bishop’s wife warned her to leave her son alone, or Gail would regret it, as would her family.

Later, Gail wished she’d retorted that Ruby’s cherished son had been the seducer, probably of many young Amish women, but at the time, she’d been shocked and scared. She still was, because Ruby was the neck that turned the head of the bishop. A bishop who interpreted the community’s Ordnung in a manner that best suited his own family.

Ruby pivoted and stared unblinkingly at where Gail stood rooted. Ducking her head, Gail stared at the bags of frozen chicken breasts in the freezer, her fingers white-knuckled on the groceries in her hands. She won’t recognize me. The hat. The ponytail, the jeans. It’s my imagination that she’s watching me. I’m just an Englisch girl. Gail forced herself to move along the far side of the freezer, working her way to the front of the store.

From under the bill of her cap, she sneaked a glance at the older woman. Ruby’s eyes, under the center part of her hair, were hooded as she watched Gail. The older woman’s pursed lips gathered up the loose wrinkles from her face. Gail ignored the bread section and hastened to check out. Thrusting her items onto the conveyor belt, she looked back to find the bishop’s wife had followed her to the end of the aisle and stood, hands on narrow hips, staring at her.

Foot tapping a rapid tattoo on the tile, Gail waited for her change. When she had it, she grabbed her items and fled the store, feeling a burning stare between her shoulders with every step. Shoving her purchases to the passenger seat, she jumped into the cab. Moments later the truck and trailer rattled out of the parking lot.

Gail was half a mile out of town before her heart rate slowed down. Ruby Weaver was the reason she couldn’t return to the Amish community. The threat the bishop’s wife posed to her daughter forced Gail and Lily to stay in the Englisch world. If Ruby ever found out her precious dead son, Atlee, actually had a daughter, she’d use the bishop to gain custody of the child.

Elam lived on the fringe of the Amish community. Samuel’s farm was closer to the center. Somehow, Gail needed to avoid Miller’s Creek while supporting her new—and very distracting—customer.

Pulling into the main street of a town so small it couldn’t boast a gas station, Gail circled a block and parked the pickup and trailer along a side street lined with small, neat houses.

Grabbing her groceries, Gail shut the door with her hip and headed for the sidewalk. She had greater things to worry about than a man. Yes, Samuel Schrock was tempting, but he didn’t fit into her life. And he didn’t hold a candle to what did. Gail smiled as she crossed bright-colored chalk marks on the cement pavement, the tension of the day easing from her shoulders at the unidentifiable drawings. Before she reached the screen door, it flew open and a small blond-haired girl bounded down the steps and launched into her arms.

“Mommy! You’re here! I love you so much!”

Dropping the grocery bags, Gail closed her eyes and embraced the girl’s precious, warm weight. Inhaling the soft, sweet scent of her daughter’s hair, she murmured, “Me, too, Lily. Me, too.”

The double barn doors were open, ostensibly to let in light from the glow of the early-morning sun, but primarily so Samuel could hear the sound of a truck and trailer pulling up the lane. He pitchforked a flake of hay in front of their cow, Gabby. He’d been thinking about his driver since she’d dropped him off three days ago with barely a wave in his direction. His trip today might have more to do with the ride to and from the track than the Standardbreds there. But he wasn’t going to tell his bruder that.

“I ran into Elam at the hardware store yesterday.” Gideon’s muffled voice came from the far side of Gabby, where he leaned his head against her flank as he milked the fawn-and-white cow.

Samuel stabbed the pitchfork into a nearby bale of alfalfa. He’d made time to see Elam the day before to ask his opinion on the trainers at the track. “He told me he’s not regretting his decision to quit the business. Hope it wasn’t just to make me feel good in taking it over. Seems hard to believe, but I look forward to today with even more excitement than I felt on my first one.”

“Ja. Really hard to believe.” The hiss of milk pinging against the metal sides of the pail punctuated his bruder’s words. “When were you going to tell me that the driver, Gail, was a woman? And a yung one at that?” Although his hands never stopped their steady rhythm, Gideon leaned back and shot his brother a glance. “Is that why you’ve been working like a madman the past few days? So you could fit in another trip to the track this week? I half expected the barn to be repainted when I arrived home yesterday, the way you’ve rushed to get work done.”

Samuel couldn’t deny the accusation, as it was the truth. “The past few days were clear and the low humidity was good for cutting and drying the hay at our farm while it was down. I’ve got to get to Malachi’s fields after that. And with the long evenings, there was plenty of light left after you got home yesterday to help me put up the bales. Just because I’m doing the majority of work on the farm doesn’t mean that you can’t occasionally get your hands dirty with it anymore.”

“Ach. That’s not what I mean, and my hands feel pretty full of farmwork right now.” After a few final squirts, Gideon grabbed the handle of the bucket and stood from the three-legged milking stool where he’d been perched. “And after talking with Elam, I just wanted to know what I’m working for.”

Samuel took the pail from him and poured its contents through a strainer into a metal milk can. “You’re working for the farm.” He set the pail down and shot his brother a grin. “And maybe a bit for your bruder to see a pretty girl again this week.”

Gideon didn’t share his smile. “As long as my bruder remembers that the pretty girl is Englisch.”

Samuel’s smile slipped. “Your bruder is very aware of that fact and doesn’t need to be reminded.” He stepped away to disinfect Gabby’s udder and release her head from the wooden stanchion. The Guernsey stayed put, munching on the hay. “We met Englisch girls at rumspringa parties in Ohio before we moved. She’s not the first girl who wasn’t Amish who I’ve flirted with. Though I may stretch them at times, I know where the boundaries are.” He placed a hand on Gabby’s bony hip and met his brother’s eyes. “When the time comes, I’ll be baptized. I’m not leaving the Amish faith.”

His younger brother’s shoulders visibly relaxed and his mouth tipped up at the corners. “That’s a relief. I thought so, but after watching the spring in your step even after the past few long days and finding out that the driver was a yung woman…and pretty—” his smile expanded “—your word, not Elam’s, I was a little concerned over the glint in your eye when you spoke of your new business.”

“Mamm will be glad you’re here to take her place as mother hen. Malachi hasn’t even been married a year yet and you’re trying to get me married off, too? I said, when the time comes I’ll be baptized into the church. Then I’ll be married. But the time hasn’t come, bruder. I’m not ready to settle down yet with Gott’s chosen one for me. This girl—” Samuel didn’t know how to describe Gail, or his unaccustomed feeling for her “—is a challenge, that’s all. Can you believe that she might not like your charming bruder?”

“It makes me think she has good sense.”

Patting his brother on the shoulder, Samuel stepped back to pick up the milking stool and hang it on pegs on the barn’s wall. His ears had picked up the sound of a vehicle approaching in the quiet morning. “No worries, then. Who wants to marry a sensible woman? Isn’t Ruth enough to scare us off from that?” He winked at his brother, knowing that Gideon cared for his sister-in-law as much as he did.

His attention already on the approaching truck, he absently instructed, “Take some milk in for Ruth and Malachi and drop the rest off at the cheese factory.”

“Like I do every day?”

He waved away Gideon’s response, which followed him out the barn’s double doors, and watched Gail’s truck and trailer pull into the lane. Maybe he was more than a little eager to see how long it would take him to get past this woman’s defenses.

He’d sold the gelding. Made a slim profit, but a profit nonetheless. Although the Amish seemed a patriarchal society, the adage “happy wife, happy life” still applied. The wife had been happy with her new transportation, happy enough the husband had talked about it with some friends, drumming up a few more potential customers for Samuel.

The truck pulled into the lane and swung around in the farmyard. A moment later Samuel was sitting next to Gail in the worn cloth seat. He was immediately wary when she shot him a hooded look. He was used to women watching him closely, but not like they were just waiting for him to put a foot wrong. He hadn’t been the recipient of a look like that since his mamm had to run an errand, leaving him alone in the kitchen with the cookies she’d just finished baking for a Christmas exchange.

“What?”

Gail didn’t reply, just shifted the vehicle into Drive and the rig rattled down the lane.

That was when he realized they weren’t alone.

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