Childhood friends joined by a painful past...

Can love blossom between them?

After her father falls ill, Lizzie Miller and her family desperately need help to keep the farm going during harvesttime. Neighbor Paul Burkholder is eager to lend a hand—and to court Lizzie. But Paul has a secret that he fears could push Lizzie away. Can they finally heal from a tragedy in their pasts...and open their hearts to each other?

An Amazon top ten bestselling historical romance author, TRACEY J. LYONS was a 2017 National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award finalist. She sold her first book on 9/9/99! A true Upstate New Yorker, Tracey believes you should write what you know. Tracey considers herself a small-town gal who writes small-town romances. She is making her contemporary romance debut with Harlequin’s Love Inspired line. Visit www.traceyjlyons.com to learn more about her.

Alos By Tracey J. Lyons

Love Inspired

A Love for Lizzie

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

A Love for Lizzie

Tracey J. Lyons

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09672-0

A LOVE FOR LIZZIE

© 2019 Tracey J. Lyons

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 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.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“Those smell delicious...”

Lizzie placed one of the hot cookies on a napkin and set it in front of Paul. His eyes lit up in a look of sheer delight.

The smile on his face broadened as he said, “Ah, Lizzie, you do know the way to a hardworking man’s heart.”

She gasped and took a step back, and out of a long-practiced instinct her hand flew up to cover the scar on her face.

She wasn’t trying to work her way into anyone’s heart, least of all Paul’s. He was her childhood friend.

“Lizzie.” His tone softened. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable with my words. Please don’t shy away from me.”

Slowly, she lowered her hand.

“You don’t need to hide your face from me, ever. I need you to understand that, Lizzie.”

She gave him a slight nod, fighting the urge to cover her scar again.

And all the while she felt his gaze on her...

Dear Reader,

A Love for Lizzie is my debut novel with Love Inspired. As my characters Lizzie and Paul went on a journey, so did I. This was my first time writing an Amish story. I discovered that the Amish community is built on traditions, faith and family. And even though their life is lived simply, the Amish have their share of life’s trials and tribulations. Paul and Lizzie have to overcome many obstacles, including trusting in their faith in God and in each other. Though my book is set in a fictional town called Miller’s Crossing, the actual area is based in beautiful Chautauqua County, also known as the Southern Tier of New York State. As you read this book, imagine rolling hills, dotted with barns and acres of open farmland.

You can learn more about me by visiting my website at www.traceyjlyons.com, or stop by my author page www.Facebook.com/TraceyJLyonsAuthor. I love hearing from my readers. You can contact me at tracey@traceylyons.com.

I hope that you enjoy reading Lizzie and Paul’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Welcome to Miller’s Crossing!

Happy Reading,

Tracey

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

—Ephesians 4:32

From the time I put the first word on the page for this book, I knew without a doubt who it would be dedicated to. This book is dedicated to my friend and fellow author Amy Lamont, who has shown more strength and courage than anyone I know. You have inspired so many of us with your journey. Many, many blessings to you, my friend.

Acknowledgments

There are always so many people who are part of the team it takes to make the germ of an idea become a full-blown story. First and foremost, I’d like to thank my agent, Michelle Grajkowski, who puts up with all my angst, and to all of my fellow Love Inspired authors, you have opened up a whole new world of support and friendship beyond what I could have ever imagined. Thank you all so much. To my editor, Melissa Endlich, thank you for making my dream of becoming a Harlequin author come true. To the fabulous team that Harlequin has put together to get our work out there in the world, you all deserve a hearty round of applause. And finally, to my husband, TJ, I couldn’t do any of this without you by my side.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Epilogue

Double Treat Cookies

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One
Miller’s Crossing, Chautauqua County, New York

“Good morning, Lizzie.”

Her long-time neighbor and friend, Paul Burkholder, greeted Elizabeth Miller, or “Lizzie” as everyone called her, from the other side of the screen door on the front porch. A tall man with mahogany-brown hair and dark brown eyes, his head barely cleared the top of the door. He was holding his flat-brimmed straw hat in one hand and a bag in the other. He wore a blue work shirt and black pants with thin leather suspenders, the ends buttoned inside the waist of his pants, the typical everyday clothing of a Miller’s Crossing Amish man.

His face was clean-shaven, void of the full beard that marked the married men. She’d always thought him to be handsome. At twenty-three he remained single, while most of his friends were getting married, though she’d heard rumors at the last frolic that he wanted to change all of that. Paul might look like many of the other men in their church district, but Lizzie knew this man had a big heart. Maybe sometimes too big of a heart. He’d stuck by her through thick and thin.

Even all the times she’d pushed him away.

Lizzie knew over the past week she’d been pushing at him extra hard. This time of year was always a difficult one for her and her family. Her gaze slid to the hook on the wall next to the door. The place where her bruder’s black hat still hung. She swung her attention back to the man standing on the porch. Concentrating on the present kept Lizzie from thinking about that long-ago day. A day she tried hard to forget. Yes, some of her memories of that day remained foggy, stuck somewhere deep in her mind, like a splinter that she couldn’t get out. Still, the end result could never be changed; no matter what she remembered, her brother, David, would still be gone and she would have this mark seared on her face.

Paul rolled his shoulders, the strong muscles flexing beneath the cotton fabric of his light blue shirt. Lizzie’s hand moved to cover the scar on her face. Beneath her fingertips she felt the raised flesh. The jagged cut ran three inches long, from the edge of her eyebrow to just below her cheekbone. Vanity held no place in her life or in her community, but still some days it was hard to accept reality. She had a disfigurement that couldn’t be overlooked. Over the years the members of her community had done just that, continuing to love her and accept her through the flaws.

The Englischers, though, they were different. Some of them would openly stare at her when they stopped by her roadside stand to buy their fresh eggs. They were one of the reasons Lizzie didn’t stray from the farm very often. She couldn’t bear it when people stared at her. Their looks left her feeling ugly and unworthy.

She felt Paul’s gaze on her.

“Lizzie?”

She heard his concern and looked up at him, keeping her face turned ever so slightly.

“You seemed to have gone off there for a minute.”

“Do you know what today is?” The second she blurted out the question, she was filled with regrets. It didn’t do a person good to dwell on the past, to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed, to question the path that God had set forth for them.

Paul looked through the screen door at her, his eyes darkening with emotion. His nod was barely perceptible when he replied. “I do. Ten years to the day of the accident that took your bruder’s life and left you injured.” His voice softened as he continued, “Lizzie, like you, I miss David every day. And like you, I wish we could have changed the outcome.”

She held up her hand. There was no need for him to continue. She knew he was referring to his part in the day. He’d come to the barn just as she’d tried to get David to stop jumping off the hay bales. But David, who had always been the daring sibling, had insisted he could make it from the top all the way down to the bottom in one jump. She had tried her best to grab hold of his arm, but he’d already begun moving through the air when she’d caught hold of him.

Her body had been carried along with his as they’d tumbled down the bales. That was the last thing she remembered before waking up in the hospital. Lizzie pushed the dark memory away as best she could. She looked at Paul. Moving off to the side of the door, Lizzie turned her head ever so slightly to the right, hiding the scar. From the safety of the shadows, she looked up at him, watching as a soft summer breeze ruffled through his dark hair.

Though the Amish did not commemorate the anniversaries of one’s death like some of the Englischers did, she herself always paused for a moment on this day to remember David. He would have been close to twenty-three years old. Three years older than she was right now.

Pushing aside the sadness in her heart, she said, “I’m sorry. I should have begun our conversation with ‘Gut morning, Paul. What brings you around this fine day?’”

Holding the brown paper bag up, he replied in his deep, rich voice, “I have something for you.”

“You know I can’t accept a gift from you.”

“You don’t even know what is inside of here,” he said, swinging the bag back and forth in front of her.

She had to admit he had piqued her curiosity. “Tell me what you brought.”

“I brought you some brushes and watercolor paints.”

Lizzie didn’t like the idea that Paul had gone out of his way to spend his hard-earned money on something just for her. And considering that it wasn’t useful to anyone else, she knew the paints and brushes would have to be kept out of sight.

Thinking how much trouble Paul’s generosity could cause, Lizzie shook her head, saying, “Nee. You’ll have to take these back to where you purchased them. I’m sure you can get your money back.” Furrowing her brow, she gave him a stern look.

“I’ll do no such thing. Besides, I found them at a yard sale, so there’s no use in trying to return them. They only cost me a few dollars, Lizzie. And half of the paints have been used,” he said. Then with a spark in his eyes, he added, “Think of this as my bringing you supplies for your art.”

Lizzie had taken up artwork years ago. Sketching the surrounding landscapes had given her a bit of peace and helped to fill the void left behind after her brother’s death. Since her vader would most certainly frown on using her time to dabble in something most Amish would consider frivolous, Lizzie managed to scrape together a few free hours each month to work on her craft. In her mind her drawings were no different from the beautiful quilts her friends made. Most sold them as a way to supplement their family’s income. All of her drawings were carefully stored in a closet in her bedroom. As it was, Paul wouldn’t even have known about her artwork except that he’d come upon her working on a new sketch at the edge of the back field last week.

The image she’d been drawing was of the freshly mowed hayfield. She’d been drawing the soft, round bales of hay, trying to capture the feel of the image before her, of the golden hues against the dark earth and the sky being bathed in the soft colors of dusk. The black-and-white sketch hadn’t done the scene justice, but Lizzie didn’t have any colors to use on the picture. She’d captured the image as best she could, with her pencil on the heavy white paper.

Resting her head against the doorjamb, she let her imagination wander. The idea that she could add color to her sketches and breathe life into them had her pushing the door open a crack. Seeing the opportunity, Paul shoved the bag into her hand.

“I know you can make good use of these. Your drawings are amazing, Lizzie.”

She felt the skin on her cheeks warm with a blush. Lizzie didn’t get many compliments. “Danke,” she said, gripping the paper bag in her hand. “How is your family?”

Paul shrugged, answering, “They are fine. We’ve been busy at the shop.”

Paul’s family owned a cabinetmaking business. Even with him and his three bruders all working at the shop, they always seemed to be busy. All the more reason Lizzie appreciated the time he took to stop by to check on her family. There was only Lizzie left here to help on the farm. Her older sister, Mary, had married and moved away to her husband’s church district last year. There were no other siblings left. Her mudder had been unable to have more children. Her vader worked from long before sunup to sundown, running their small dairy farm. Lizzie helped where she could, selling eggs, jams and baked goods at the roadside stand.

The farm life wasn’t an easy one. Even so, she knew her vader wouldn’t live his life any other way. She wished things were different. If she had a husband, he could help out. But Lizzie couldn’t even imagine entering into a courtship. Absently she rubbed the side of her face. The scar was a constant reminder of the life she couldn’t have. Most days she didn’t even leave the farm. She felt safe and secure here, away from the prying eyes of those who wanted to see her face, those whose expressions carried all the questions of wanting to know what had happened to leave that mark on her.

Yet, Lizzie thought, she could be perfectly content to live out the rest of her life here, in quiet and safe solitude.

“What are your plans for today?” Paul asked.

Lizzie blinked, looking up at him, realizing the screen door still separated them. She didn’t want him to think she was being rude, so she asked, “Would you like to come in for some coffee and a muffin? I baked blueberry ones earlier this morning.”

“Nee. Danke for the offer, though. I need to get back to work. I just wanted to give you the paints in case you were planning on drawing today.” Paul set his straw hat back on his head.

“Danke again for your thoughtfulness,” Lizzie said, looking past him.

Her gaze settled on the big red barn, where she knew her vader was finishing up with the morning milking. Her mudder had gone into the village of Clymer, a few miles from the house, to pick up some items from the Decker General Store. Cocking her head to one side, Lizzie looked through the dappled sunlight, beyond the shade of the big oak tree next to the house, and squinted her eyes, uncertain of what she was looking at.

“Paul, turn around and look down to the barn. Is that a cow I’m looking at?” she asked, pointing to a spot at the farleft corner of the barn, where the animal appeared to be munching on some grass outside of the fenced-off field.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Paul seemed to ponder her question and then said, “Lizzie, is your vader down at the barn?”

“Ja, he is supposed to be. Why do you ask?”

“Because there appears to be about half a dozen cows on this side of the fence.”

“That is strange.” She opened the door, stepping out to join Paul on the porch. “I think we should go see what’s going on.”

Tucking the bag into her apron pocket, she hurried along with him down the graveled pathway, across the driveway and to the barn, where they both stopped in front of the open door. Lizzie could see at least a dozen cows wandering about the yard surrounding the building. She turned to look up at Paul, whose gaze followed in the same direction as hers.

“Something’s wrong. “There’s no way your vader would let the cows roam free.”

A shiver raced along her spine as she stepped behind him, following him into the dark coolness of the same building where her brother had plunged to his death ten years ago today. Sucking in a deep breath, Lizzie tried to swallow the panic welling up inside her.

“Vader! Are you in here?” Lizzie called out.

They stopped in the center of the large expanse. Sunlight streamed in through the slats of wood on the outside walls. Off to one side were the feed bins. There was no sign of her vader here.

“I think we should check the milking parlor,” Lizzie said, putting her hand on Paul’s arm, guiding him forward.

Thick dust motes stirred through the air as they made their way to the back of the building, where the milking parlor was located. Lizzie rubbed the end of her nose. The hay dust always made her want to sneeze. She held her breath, waiting for the sensation to pass. When it did, she took in a soft breath. Paul held the door to the parlor open, then nodded, indicating she could enter first.

“Ach! Nee!” Lizzie covered her hands over her face, not wanting to believe that what she was seeing in front of her could be real. Quickly she dropped her hands to her side and ran to where her vader lay on the cement floor, silent and still.

* * *

Paul pushed his way into the room, not that far behind Lizzie. His heart thudded in his chest when he saw Joseph Miller lying on his back on the floor. Even from the distance of a few feet away, Paul could see the ashen color of the man’s skin. He took in a breath and then gently but quickly moved Lizzie to one side so he could check on her vader’s condition. Kneeling beside Joseph, Paul placed his fingers alongside the man’s neck, feeling the area where the carotid artery lay.

“Is he...?” Lizzie’s voice was barely a whisper.

Paul held up his free hand, silencing her. He needed to concentrate. He moved his fingers up and down the side of the man’s neck. At first he felt nothing, but then he felt a very faint throb. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

“Lizzie, I need you to run up to the phone shack and call 911. Tell them you think your vader has suffered a heart attack.” Even as Paul said the words, he couldn’t be sure that was what had happened, but it would get the ambulance to arrive faster. “Tell them he is breathing, but it’s very shallow.”

He glanced up to find her still standing in the milking parlor, as if frozen in time. Tears rolled down her face, and her hands were knotted together in front of her apron. He could see her trembling. If her vader were to survive, Paul needed her help.

“Lizzie!” Hoping to jolt her into action, he shouted her name. “Lizzie! You need to go. Now!” Immediately Lizzie ran out the barn door.

The next few minutes were a blur. Joseph Miller lay on the hard floor of the barn, still as the air before a summer storm. Paul grew even more worried. He jostled the man’s shoulder, calling out his name.

“Joseph! Can you hear me? Joseph!”

The man’s eyelids fluttered and then stilled. Paul stayed beside the man, praying for his healing. The ambulance arrived, and after the paramedic did a quick assessment, he determined that Joseph needed to be transported immediately to the hospital in Jamestown, thirty miles away. Lizzie’s mother, who’d been out running errands, came barreling toward the barn.

Pushing through the small circle of emergency responders, she cried out, “Paul! What’s happening?”

He looked into eyes the same light blue color as Lizzie’s. He saw Susan Miller’s fear for her husband’s health. Quietly he answered, “Mrs. Miller, I can’t be sure. But the paramedic thinks it could be a heart attack.”

The woman let out a sob and rushed alongside the gurney. Her midcalf-length black skirt flapped against her legs. “Joseph! Joseph!” she called out to her husband.

A younger medic caught up with her. “I can let you ride with your husband, but I need you to sit in the front. Do you think you can do that?” he asked.

Susan nodded, casting a glance around the tall man until her gaze found Lizzie. “Lizzie! I need you to come.”

“I’m afraid we can only take one family member.”

Lizzie’s mamm looked as if she were about to burst into tears. Paul watched as she tucked her lower lip between her teeth, squared her shoulders and nodded at the man. Her hands trembled as she reached for the door.

Paul helped her into the front seat of the ambulance, making sure she had the seat belt firmly in place. “I’ll see that she gets to the hospital.”

“Run down to Helen Meyer’s haus. Maybe she can help you get Lizzie to the hospital,” Lizzie’s mamm said.

“We need to get going,” the driver said, putting the rig in gear.

Paul shut the door. Lizzie’s mother smiled nervously from behind the window and nodded as they drove away.

Paul knew what had to be done. He would get Lizzie to the hospital. How could he not?

After the ambulance left, Paul realized he couldn’t take the wagon into Jamestown. The trip would take a few hours by horse, and he couldn’t be sure Lizzie’s vader would survive. They needed to get there as quickly as possible. As Mrs. Miller suggested, he ended up running down to find their Englisch neighbor Helen Meyers, who was standing at the end of her driveway.

“I just saw the ambulance leave the Millers’. What’s going on?”

“It looks like Joseph might have had a heart attack,” Paul responded. Before he could even ask, she graciously offered to take them to the hospital.

“It was a blessing that I filled up my gas tank this morning.”

Paul nodded politely. “I’ll repay you for the gas.”

“There’s no need for that.” She hastened to give him a smile. “We’re neighbors and, Englischer or Plain, neighbors help each other out. Let’s hurry—we don’t want to keep Lizzie waiting.”

He followed her to the back of the driveway and got into the passenger seat of the blue four-door sedan. They found Lizzie standing along the edge of the road, near the Millers’ mailbox. Paul got out and opened the back door, letting Lizzie slide across the seat first. He joined her, barely closing the door before Mrs. Meyers sped off.

Paul turned his head to look at Lizzie. He could see the tight lines around her mouth. She kept her eyes focused straight ahead.

He started to reach out his hand to cover hers but thought better of it. Even though years had passed since the tragedy that shook the Miller family, there were days when Lizzie still seemed so fragile to him. Today would have been a rough day even without her vader’s heart attack.

“Today is the day my bruder died, and my vader suffers from a heart attack. I don’t understand the workings of God.”

“It’s not for us to question his motives, Lizzie.”

“I know.” She turned to look out the window.

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Before they knew it, Helen pulled her car in front of the hospital entrance.

“I’ll let you off here so you can hurry to the emergency room. I’m going to park in the main lot.”

“Please, Mrs. Meyers, you don’t need to stay. I will find a way home,” Lizzie said.

“She’s right, there’s no need for you to spend your day here. I’ll make sure Lizzie gets home. We appreciate your help.” He thanked her again as they left the car.

He cupped Lizzie’s elbow and escorted her through the automatic sliding doors. They whooshed closed behind them. He felt her tense up as people stared at them as they walked over to the reception area. His heart squeezed as he watched Lizzie tip her head down and raise her hand to cover her scarred face. The strongest urge to protect her welled up inside of him. He took a deep breath before coming to a stop at the receptionist’s counter, which was closed off with big sliding glass windows.

Paul tapped lightly on the window, getting the young woman’s attention. She gave him a hard look. Paul attempted a smile. She slid one of the panels open.

“May I help you?”

“My friend, Miss Miller’s father, was brought in by ambulance a short time ago. We were hoping you could direct us to where we can find him.”

“Can I have the name of the patient, please?”

“Joseph Miller.”

The woman typed his name into the computer sitting on her desk, then slid a clipboard across the narrow counter space that separated them, saying, “I’ll need you to sign in here, please. And then have a seat in the waiting area. I’ll call you when you can go down to the Emergency Room.”

“How long do you think it will be?” Lizzie asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Paul picked up the clipboard and handed it to Lizzie, along with a pen. He waited for Lizzie to add her name and then did the same. When they were finished, she exchanged the list for two visitor stickers, which they both stuck to the front of their shirts. He turned and spotted two dark green vinyl chairs set apart from the main waiting area.

“Come on—” he nodded in that direction “—let’s go over there to wait.”

Lizzie went ahead of him and sank down into the first chair. He sat in the chair next to her. A long row of windows ran behind their backs. A low coffee table filled with dog-eared magazines separated them. His gaze settled on her. She sat on the edge of the cushioned seat, with her back hunched over and her hands clenched together on her lap. He felt so helpless and wanted to calm her nerves as best he could. He saw her take in a breath and then slowly exhale.

“Lizzie.” He spoke her name in a low voice. “I’m sure your vader is in good hands. All will be well, I’m sure.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded, keeping her eyes on the double doors at the far end of the room.

“I pray that he is. Danke for staying with me. I know you have other things you need to be doing,” she said, keeping her voice low, as well.

Paul thought about how he’d originally planned to spend the day. For months now he’d had his mind set on breaking away from his family’s furniture business. And he’d decided that this morning, after he’d gone to see Lizzie, would be the time he’d tell his vader about his plan to set up his own furniture shop. His vader’s furniture was very basic and serviceable. But Paul had always favored adding more detail to the pieces, while his vader liked to keep it plain and simple, a reflection of their way of life.

He’d been lucky to find a vacant storefront right next to the general store in the village of Clymer, a few miles south of their settlement. The rent on the space was good, too good to pass up. Not wanting to miss out, Paul had made a verbal agreement with the owner to lease the space. If everything went according to plan, he’d have the doors open as soon as possible. First he had to convince his vader to let him move forward. But deep down Paul knew he would risk the man’s censure to follow his dream of owning his own business.

“I’ve heard rumors about you. About your plans for the future.”

The sound of Lizzie’s soft voice snapped him out of his reverie. “Who told you?”

“Though our land is vast, we live in a very close-knit community. Word gets out,” Lizzie answered. She turned a thoughtful blue-eyed gaze to him. “Are you sure you want to break from your family business?”

He nodded. “I don’t see it as breaking away. Maybe the move could be more of an expansion of the business. I’ve started to pick out the pieces I’m going to sell at the new store. It’s been a dream of mine for a very long time. Sort of like you and your paintings.” He grinned at her.

“I don’t do my paintings for profit.”

“No, you don’t. But I—” His explanation was interrupted when he heard Lizzie’s name being called.

“Come on, I think there’s some news.” Paul guided her over to the reception area. Once there, the woman instructed them on how to get to the emergency room.

He started through the doors and turned back when he realized Lizzie wasn’t with him. She stood in the doorway to the long corridor, pale as a ghost. Her blue eyes were wide as she stared down the hallway.

Rushing over to her, he took her trembling hands in his. “Lizzie, your vader is going to be all right. I know it. Joseph is a strong man. As strong as the oxen he uses to plow the fields.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m thinking about.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion. And then it dawned on him. On the day of the accident that had taken her bruder’s life and left her injured, the ambulance had brought her to this very hospital.

“Lizzie. I’ll be by your side the whole time. I promise,” Paul said.

“The last time I was in this building was all those years ago. I don’t remember everything. Just...there was so much blood.” She started to pull away.

* * *

She felt Paul place his hand under her elbow. For a brief moment Lizzie allowed herself to take comfort from his touch. It would be so easy to let him take the lead, but Lizzie wanted to be strong for her family. As they made their way down a long hallway, she tried hard to ignore the antiseptic smell. The acrid scent brought to mind what little she remembered about that long-ago day. She covered the scar on her face with a hand, feeling the soft ridge of skin, remembering the blood.

Lizzie jumped as the sound of Paul’s voice jarred her back to the present.

“Here we are.” He looked down at her and then nodded in the direction of the emergency room.

Lizzie appreciated the concern in his eyes, even though it did little to calm her nerves.

“Are you going to be okay?”

She dropped her hand against her side, nodding. Lizzie walked with him through another set of sliding glass doors and looked around the brightly lit area. It wasn’t long before she saw her mamm’s plain black shoes poking out from beneath a curtained-off section of the large room. Heading that way, Lizzie slowly pulled back the white curtain and peeked in. Her vader lay on a narrow bed, with wires coming out from beneath a white blanket that covered him. His eyes were closed and his face looked very pale. Thankfully his chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm. Her gaze followed the cords to a monitor on a pole. She heard the beeping of his heart and saw a wavy line running across the flat screen.

“Dochder. You shouldn’t be here.” Her father’s weak voice startled her.

Lizzie stepped into the tiny space, while her mamm stood to gather her in a hug. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered against Lizzie’s ear.

“I’m worried about you, Vader.”

“I’m...” He paused, struggling to take a deep breath. “I’m going to be out of here in time for the next milking.”

Her mamm gasped. “No, Joseph. That is not what the doctor said.”

“What did they say, mamm?” Lizzie wanted to know.

“They could tell from the EKG that they ran in the ambulance that he’s had a mild heart attack. He needs to stay here for a few more days while they run some more tests. They want to do a procedure called a catheterization to see if there is any damage to your vader’s heart.”

“I won’t be here for any of that,” her vader grumbled. “I am in the middle of the first harvest. It’s not like I have a strong son who can take over.”

Lizzie stiffened at her father’s harsh words. She knew better than he what the family had lost. Even though he’d never come out and accused her, she knew he blamed her for David’s death. She felt her mamm give her hand a quick squeeze.

She released Lizzie, then walked across the polished black-and-white floor tiles to her husband’s bedside. She took his hand in hers and kissed the top of it.

Very quietly, but with a firmness in her tone, she said, “Joseph, you will do exactly as the doctors tell you.”

“But who will take care of the cows and the crops?”

Paul and a tall man dressed in Plain clothes entered their room. Lizzie recognized Amos Yoder, one of the elders in their church district. He stood at the foot of her father’s bed, wearing dark pants and a crisp white shirt tucked beneath his black suspenders. On his head he wore a dark brimmed hat with a black band.

“Joseph,” he said, his deep voice resonating throughout the space. “You will not worry about your crops or your cows. The men and I can each spare a son to help out until you are well enough. The boys will rotate their days.”

Her vader sighed. He avoided making eye contact with her. “See, this mess has already brought the two of you away from your work.”

“It was nothing, Joseph. I was at the house, visiting already, and didn’t mind coming with Lizzie to the hospital,” Paul said.

Taking her mamm aside, Lizzie knew she and Paul had stayed past their time. And she didn’t want to be the cause of any more stress for her vader.

“Mamm, I think I’ll go home. I’ve kept Paul here long enough, and I have much to tend to back at the house.”

“Ja, Lizzie, you go home. If there are men working at our fields and in our barns, they will eventually need to be fed. You must cook for them.”

“Ja. Of course.” Her mamm led her back to her vader’s bedside so she could say goodbye. “Vader, I don’t want you to worry about the farm. I can help keep things running.” Lizzie tried her best to put on a brave front. But the truth was she was worried.

“Ach!” Her vader half raised a hand off the bed, swishing it in the air as if swatting at a fly. “You go home and do your chores, Dochder. I’ll be fine.”

Though she wanted with all her heart to believe him, she couldn’t be certain how much damage his heart had sustained. Lizzie bent to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head, avoiding her touch. Fighting back the tears, she simply patted him on the shoulder and left the emergency room. She walked back down the long corridor with Paul. The stale antiseptic smells receded with each step she took. Lizzie made it to the main waiting room and exhaled.

She turned to Paul and said, “Take me home, please.”

They stepped out of the sterile air of the hospital into the fresh air and fading sunlight of another hot summer day. Lizzie stood looking at the golden light, thankful to God above that her vader had survived. While she waited, Paul found them a cab to take them home.

Lizzie settled into the back seat, relieved to be going home. Paul got in and sat next to her. The car was small, and their shoulders bumped. Lizzie could feel the warmth coming from Paul’s body. He’d been so kind to her today. But she couldn’t allow him to be away from his own work. They both needed to get back to Miller’s Crossing. She couldn’t bear to be away from home for too long; even the short time away today left her feeling uneasy. She worried about what she was going to find when she got back to the farm. There was livestock to be fed and cows to be milked. She had no idea where her vader had left the tractor or who was going to see to the remainder of the cutting in the field he’d been harvesting this morning.

Lizzie felt the uncertainty creeping in like fog on a cool morning. She tried with all her might to bolster her confidence, thinking she could do this for her father. She owed him all the help she could give him. She could run things while he was in the hospital, couldn’t she? Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief as the cab turned onto the road that led to the Miller farm.

And then she gasped in surprise at the sight that greeted her.

Chapter Two

From across the field that separated the property from the road, Lizzie could see a row of buggies parked in front of the barn.

“Oh, my, Paul! Look at all of this!”

He tilted his head toward her and smiled, nodding toward the house. “I told you, as soon as they heard about your vader, everyone came to help.”

As the taxi pulled into the driveway, Lizzie pressed her forehead against the passenger-side window to get a better view of the yard. She saw her best friend, Sadie Fischer, rushing toward them. Immediately Lizzie’s heart swelled with emotion. She didn’t know what she would do without her friend. Waiting for the cab to stop, Lizzie tore off her seat belt and opened the door, stepping straight into her friend’s outstretched arms.

“Lizzie, I’m so sorry to hear about your vader.”

“Danke,” Lizzie mumbled against Sadie’s shoulder.

After releasing her hold, Lizzie looked around, taking stock of the busy yard. Behind her she heard Paul paying the cab driver. She noted the crunch of the gravel as the car drove off. Paul came to stand near them.

“Is it true that your vader had a heart attack?” Sadie asked, her gaze darting from Paul to Lizzie.

“Ja. We think he’s going to be fine, though,” she answered, crossing her arms over her stomach as the full impact of her vader’s condition hit her.

With her sister, Mary, living in her husband’s community in Montgomery County, a few hours from here, it was up to Lizzie to keep things running on the farm until her mamm or vader returned home.

Sadie quickly picked up on her unease. Her friend patted her on the arm, saying, “All will be well in time. Already we are all praying for his speedy recovery.” Pointing toward the side yard, Sadie added, “See there? Those people are your friends and they care a great deal about your vader.”

Lizzie looked past Sadie and saw a group of her neighbors and other community members standing in a circle, their heads bowed. The hems on the women’s blue dresses flapped against their legs as a warm summer breeze blew across the yard. Some of the men had left their jobs to come and offer support. Even though she knew it was the way of the Amish to come and lend a helping hand to a neighbor in need, she still felt uneasy about having all these people at her home. It appeared, though, that Sadie and Paul were both correct: everyone was doing something to help.

Her lower lip trembled as she fought back her tears. “Vader sent me back. He said there was a lot that needed to be tended to. And it looks like he was right.” Lizzie swiped a hand across her cheeks, starting to walk toward the house.

Paul fell into step beside them. “I see my bruders, Ben and Abram are here.”

He nodded in the direction of the barn, where Lizzie could see fourteen-year-old Abram walking out of the barn with a wheelbarrow full of horse manure. Ben came out behind him, yelling that Abram had left a mess behind.

“So, three Burkholders have set aside their own chores for my family,” Lizzie mumbled, nodding at them. They gave her a wave, and then she dipped her head to one side. “That was very kind of them to come by.”

A monarch butterfly flitted in front of her face. Lizzie raised her hand, swishing it away, not in the mood to ponder the creature.

“I need to get to the kitchen. I understand there are men out in the field, working to bring in the rest of the hay that Vader was harvesting this morning. And then there are the cows to milk and feed. I’ll need to cook something to feed everyone.” She twisted her mouth into a thin line, making a mental list of the food they had on hand.

She knew there would be enough chicken for a stew, and there were several loaves of bread in the pantry, along with beans and potatoes. There were some zucchini squash, tomatoes, cucumbers and lettuce in the garden that could be picked.

Paul caught her gaze and smiled. “Listen to me. You have plenty of help everywhere, even in the kitchen. I suspect my mamm is here, too.”

“What? I can’t have your whole family at our house.”

“Trust me, I have plenty of family to go around.” He let out a chuckle. “With my five siblings, the lot of them would easily fill up your kitchen.”

She managed to muster a smile.

He gently walked her and Sadie down the drive, up the porch steps and into the house, where a beehive of activity was going on. Excusing herself, Sadie rushed into the kitchen, making her way over to the long counter. Lizzie watched her laying out rows of sliced white bread. To her right another young woman was adding slices of cheese and turkey to one side of the sandwich. Paul had left her to go say hello to his mamm, who was dumping boiled potatoes from a large pot into a colander in the sink.

Lizzie realized she’d been standing in the doorway. Looking down at her apron, the same light blue color as her dress, Lizzie frowned. Despite her fatigue, with her mamm absent it was her duty to help run things in the kitchen. Pulling the apron she’d been wearing over her shoulders, she shrugged out of it. She hung it on one of the wall pegs near the front door. Her hand brushed against a boy’s straw hat. The felt band looked brand-new. But Lizzie knew it was exactly ten years old.

Some days she wished her mamm would put the hat away. Seeing that hat reminded everyone of David. She put her house apron on and tied the sash around her waist. Having the hat here or not, Lizzie would never forget her bruder. Unlike in the homes of their Englisch neighbors, here there were no family photos, so they were left with only the memory of the images of their lives.

Lizzie closed her eyes, seeing David’s face in her mind’s eye. The eyes that matched hers in color, the dark hair that no matter how hard Mamm tried to brush it in place, always stuck out from beneath this hat. She imagined the dimples that appeared when he smiled. She heard his laughter. She shook her head to clear out those thoughts. Blinking away the emotions that seemed to come every time she thought of her bruder, Lizzie realized Sadie had stopped making sandwiches and was watching her with concern.

Crossing the room, she came over to her. “How about you let me get you a nice glass of the fresh lemonade that Mrs. Yoder brought over.”

“That would be nice,” Lizzie said as she took another apron from a peg and put it on. Tying the sash off, she followed Sadie into the kitchen.

Lizzie took the glass from her friend’s hand, not realizing until this moment how thirsty she was. She took a gulp from the drink, letting the coolness slide down her parched throat. She set the half-empty glass on the counter, wondering where to begin. At the back of the kitchen, a door stood ajar. If not for her vader’s health, the laundry room would have been bustling with activity today.

Not only were the long summer days good for bringing in the hay, but they were also good for drying the wash. All through their community, backyard clotheslines would be filled with dark pants, white shirts and dresses. Monday was wash day. And the cars would come through in slow, long lines as the tourists tried to capture the image of their laundry on their fancy cameras or cell phones. Lizzie wanted to laugh because if they knew how much work was involved in getting a single load of wash done, maybe they’d see those images in a different way.

The dark pants, blue shirts, dresses and aprons would have to wait until tomorrow for their washing because right now there was a group of men waiting to be fed. Lizzie began helping the women carry out the bowls of potato salad and fruit salad, along with the platter of sandwiches and cutlery to a makeshift plywood-and-sawhorse table that had been set up underneath the shade of a large maple tree out in the backyard.

One of the women had gone to signal to the men that it was mealtime. She heard the clanking of the bell that hung outside the front door. In some homes a bell like this would be used to signal an emergency. Her father had installed a phone shanty on their property a few years ago. It was only used for business or for emergencies. Today she’d been beyond thankful for the convenience. Though it had seemed like an hour to her, the ambulance had arrived within minutes of her 911 call.

She knew in some Amish communities, the Ordnung forbade the use of any kind of phones, in which case a person had to travel to the nearest business to use one or depend on their Englisch neighbors to let them borrow theirs. Lizzie had even heard of some of the younger folks being allowed the use of cell phones. She shook her head at that thought. She couldn’t imagine needing one of those.

Here in Miller’s Crossing, New York, there were several Amish communities. The one where her family lived was allowed to have curtains on their windows and linoleum flooring in the houses. Lizzie felt pleased to have some of the more modern amenities. This brought her sister, Mary, to mind. As soon as the meal was over, she would get a message to her about their vader. Her sister had married Aaron Yoder last year and moved over an hour away. Mary and Aaron’s church Ordnung didn’t allow for such niceties in the homes. It had been a week or so since Mary’s last letter. Lizzie knew her schweschder had had some trouble adjusting to her new life, but she loved her husband, so she was willing to try. The family was planning to be together the first Tuesday in October for their cousin Rachel’s wedding.

Thoughts of Mary’s new life and their cousin’s wedding gave Lizzie pause. With her vader’s heart condition, she had no idea what tomorrow would hold, let alone if they could actually attend the wedding. As she spooned potato salad onto the plates, she thought about how all around her, family and friends were starting new lives, growing their own families. And here she was, still on the farm with her mamm and vader like a bobbli. Yes, she loved her life here, even if at times things did seem complicated. Even before his sudden illness, her vader had needed help on the farm. If she were to take a husband, things could be different.

As she so often found herself doing in times of stress, Lizzie ran her hand along the scar on her face. What man would want someone so disfigured? Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Paul acting kind with his mamm. Lizzie couldn’t help but think of all the years of kindness he’d shown her. He was a good friend and neighbor. A fine man. Paul would make an excellent husband for one lucky woman.

But that woman would not be her.

* * *

Paul had spotted his mamm at the stove in the Millers’ kitchen, getting ready to drain a large pot of green beans into a colander in the sink, and hurried over to take the heavy pot from her.

“Here, Mamm. Let me do this for you.”

“Ja, my strong son to the rescue,” she said, stepping aside to let him dump the pot. The hot steam wafted up between them as the string beans and water fell into the metal colander. Gently nudging him aside, she took the colander from him and shook the vegetables from side to side, helping the water drain out.

“I see you brought Lizzie home from the hospital. She looks tired and worried,” his mother said in a soft voice.

“The doctors haven’t told them much about her vader’s heart condition. From the sounds of it, he’ll be in the hospital a few more days while they run some tests.”

“Danke Gott you were there when it happened.”

Leaning his hip against the counter, Paul wondered about the cause of Mr. Miller’s heart attack. Then again, from what he’d heard, these health conditions generally did not manifest overnight. Still, he imagined the stress of trying to run this farm single-handedly hadn’t helped. There had been rumors floating about in the community for a long time that the man had been working long hours, burning the candle at both ends, with not much help. Keeping that sort of pace for too long couldn’t be good. Even though he generally worked long hours, Paul always left time in his week for time off to pray and reflect. As he recalled, Joseph Miller had been absent from the past few church meetings. A habit that was highly frowned upon by the church leaders.

“I’m not sure I did anything that mattered other than check to see if he was breathing.”

His mamm patted him on the arm, saying, “You were there for Lizzie. And you made sure she got to and from the hospital. That’s what’s important, sohn. That’s what she’ll remember.”

“I’m her friend—of course I was there for her.”

He stopped thinking about Lizzie for a moment and then wondered what his mamm would do when she found out what his plans for the future were. Though he knew she wanted the best for him, he also didn’t want to be the cause of conflict in the family.

“Paul...”

The sound of her quiet voice brought him out of his reverie. From the soft look on her face, he knew exactly what she was going to say about the relationship between him and Lizzie.

Paul cut her off with, “Please don’t go there. To me, she’s always been and will always be David’s sister. Nothing more.”

She gave him a thoughtful look, her brown eyes warm with love and bracketed with fine lines. She patted him on the arm, then said, “If that’s how you want to see it. One more thing to consider, my sohn, that tragic day happened a long time ago. I know sometimes it’s hard to understand Gott’s ways. But you and Lizzie, you need to make peace and put the past where it belongs. Your future could be bright.”

“I’m friends with her. Nothing more,” he insisted.

As she turned away from him to put the string beans in a large bowl, he heard her mumble, “For now.”

Chapter Three

Taking the bowl from his mudder, he dropped a kiss on her cheek and then headed out to the backyard. He walked over to the food table and handed the bowl to Lizzie. She barely gave him any attention as she took the beans from him.

“I’ll take that bowl off your hands,” she said.

He tipped his hat to her and went to find a seat at the makeshift table.

While he dug into the midday meal, he became aware of Lizzy’s gaze on him. He wondered what she was thinking. No doubt she was still feeling overwhelmed at finding herself in charge of the household for the moment. He gave her a smile, knowing that even if she didn’t think so, she was more than capable of handling the situation.

He shuffled down a few spaces on the bench as his bruder Abram plunked his plate down and swung a leg over to sit beside him. Paul watched in awe as he emptied the plate of the large portion of potato salad in three forkfuls.

“You need to slow down, Abram, or one of these days you’ll end up choking.”

His brother smiled at him and shook his head, saying, “Mamm’s salad is still the best in these parts.”

Paul nodded as he picked up the sandwich he’d added to his plate. Taking a generous bite, he realized he was hungry, too. He also realized he needed to get back home to do the chores there and help finish up the cabinet job he had been helping his vader with. Swallowing, he knew he had to talk to his vader soon. The man who owned the building Paul was interested in renting wanted to know how soon he could begin leasing it.

It was a good price and he didn’t want to lose the opportunity to set up his own store there. It was a great location, only half a block up from the main intersection in the village. Paul knew the tourists would come into the store. They loved to buy Amish goods. He felt if he listed his furniture at a good but fair price that he would do well.

After finishing his meal, he took his plate over to the makeshift washing area that had been set up outside the kitchen. Leaving his plate there, he caught Lizzie’s attention and waved at her. She gave him a half wave back. He walked around to the front of the Millers’ house. As he made his way up the driveway, he looked off into the fields. He saw a wagon bringing in a load of hay bales. Near the barn, a line of cows with their udders full lumbered toward the milking parlor. All around him the air was filled with the earthy scents of the farm.

Ben met him halfway down the drive. As he came closer, Paul saw that he looked to be a bit concerned. Maybe there was a problem on the Millers’ farm or he’d heard news about Lizzie’s father. Either way he wasn’t going to have to wait long to find out, because his bruder caught him by the arm and pulled him to the edge of the lawn.

“I was just up at our house and Daed is upset with some news he heard from the owner of the general store. Is it true you’ve been looking into renting some shop space?”

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach as he met his brother’s firm gaze. He’d hoped that word of his plans would not be spread around yet. But small towns being what they were, the thought that he’d be the one to deliver the news to his vader the way he saw fit had been ridiculous to begin with. Frowning at his brother, who’d grown so much over the past spring that he now stood eye to eye with him, Paul knew his vader had to be angry about this.

The Burkholders had been living in Miller’s Crossing since their Amish community had been founded back in the 1950s by Lizzie’s great-grandfather, Levi Miller. The group had traveled from Ohio in search of affordable farmland and had come upon this vast area of Chautauqua County. Over time, due to the changing economy, the farms had shrunk and the members of the community had taken to establishing lumberyards and other small but sustainable businesses.

Paul’s father had served at one time as the head of their church. Now he was busy with the family furniture business. Though he knew his father would stay tied to their property, Paul wanted desperately to have his own business in the village. He was in his twenties now and wanted to be making his own way within Miller’s Crossing.

“Paul, is it true?” Ben asked again.

“Yes,” Paul answered as he looked at the deepening crease on his brother’s forehead. Of all his siblings, Ben was the one who worried the most.

Continuing up the hill to the top of the driveway, Paul clasped his hand against his brother’s back. “You let me deal with our daed.”

“He doesn’t want you to leave.”

Paul shook his head. “I’m not leaving the family. I’m only going into town to sell my furniture.”

“Plenty of Englischers stop by our shop,” Ben said.

“They do. But we could be doing better.”

“We are doing okay. There’s always food on the table and warmth in the house.” Ben’s face turned red as he argued his point.

Paul didn’t respond to his bruder, other than mentioning the fact that he wanted his own business. He enjoyed working with wood. Smelling the shavings from the floor in the saw room and working to build fine furniture brought him great joy. More importantly, he liked to work with his hands.

He wasn’t moving out of their farmhouse; he was simply making his own way in the community, like any youngie who was old enough to do so.

“We should be getting home.”

“Ja.” Paul walked over to where his brother had parked the wagon, climbed up and sat alongside him on the bench.

Paul picked up the reins and slapped them against the horse’s backside. The wagon jumped forward as the horse picked up its pace. On the short ride home, Paul thought about what he was going to say to his vader. Paul knew he wasn’t going to be able to change his vader’s ways, but he also knew deep in his heart that he wouldn’t be changing his mind, either. He nudged the horse to the right, making a wide turn with the wagon onto the dirt road that led to his family’s ninety-acre parcel. Most of the land was covered in trees, which were eventually cut into lumber and used in their furniture business. As he drove past their family’s large white farmhouse, he gave a tug on the leather straps of the reins, signaling for the horse to turn onto a narrow dirt roadway that allowed access to their barn. Up ahead stood the attached structure of the woodworking shop, where he and his bruders worked alongside their vader.

Knowing the path well, the horse came to a stop right in front of the open side door. Paul set the reins on the seat between him and Ben. He could feel his bruder’s gaze on him. The last thing on this earth that he would ever do would be to hurt his family. He prayed that his vader would see his reasons for wanting to open up his own shop.

He felt Ben’s hand on his arm.

“I’ll see to the horses. You go on inside,” Ben said, still looking worried.

Paul jumped down from the wagon and ducked inside the doorway of the spacious workshop.

“Hallo! Is anybody here?” Paul strode through the large open area, where neat piles of lumber stood stacked shoulder height on top of a row of pallets.

“Ja. What’s all this shouting?” His vader came out of the workshop, shaking the wood shavings off his leather apron.

Paul looked at the man who, if not for the slight hunch in his back, would be the exact same height as himself. “I’ve got things squared away over at the Miller house,” he said, looking into eyes that were the same shade as his.

They also shared the same square jawline and cleft chin. Besides their age, their one big difference was the gray hair sprinkled throughout his vader’s beard.

“How is Joseph doing?”

“As far as I know, he’s going to be in the hospital for a few more days while they run some tests.”

His vader didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Paul knew to wait for him to speak.

His vader nodded to the stack of wood slabs to the right of Paul, saying, “Help me bring two more of these inside.”

Hoisting one end of the slab onto his shoulder, vader said, “Seems like there was a lot of excitement at the Miller house today. It will be some time before things return to normal.”

“Ja, for sure and certain. But Lizzie had a lot of help today. And for many days to come, if her family needs it, no doubt.”

“That’s good.”

Paul took the other end and followed him into the workroom. They set the wood on top of a large counter. On the wall at the back of the area was a large pegboard where all of the tools hung in neat rows. They worked in silence for a bit while they prepared for the project his vader had been working on. Paul knew better than to try to coax any conversation out of the man. So he waited.

When his vader stopped to wipe his forehead with a handkerchief, Paul knew the time had come.

“I’ve a thermos of iced tea over there on the table. Why don’t you pour us some?”

Doing as his vader had asked, Paul came back to hand his father a full cup, saying, “It looks like you’ve got the Smiths’ cabinet order almost finished.”

“Ja. This was an easy project. They only needed a simple cupboard for their little girl’s bedroom.” His father said, then took a sip from the cup. He took his time drinking the cool liquid.

Paul found he wasn’t all that thirsty.

“I heard from the owner of Becker’s grocery that you’ve been asking around about renting shop space in the village. Did he speak the truth?”

Paul met his vader’s hard stare. Even though he’d known this time had come, it didn’t make standing here any easier. “Ja, he did.”

“You’re going to leave your family?” His face reddened.

“I am not leaving the family.”

“That is what it sounds like to me, sohn.”

“Daed. I’ve been looking at our sales numbers for the past few years and we could be doing better.”

“We are doing well enough.”

Paul sighed. “I want to put my furniture out where it will be seen by the tourists who are traveling through.”

“We get plenty of them right now. Besides, I need you here to help with the farm chores.”

Like most of the community, the Burkholders had both their farm and a business. Some families specialized in cheese production, others canned goods and bakery items. The Troyers had a very popular greenhouse business four miles from here. The Burkholders were cabinetmakers and furniture makers.

“I can still be doing my chores here and working on the family business.” He knew he had to tread lightly, but in his heart, Paul also knew moving his side of the business was where his future lay. Expanding into the village would eventually bring the entire family more revenue. Paul wanted to make this work. “I would like to be able to do this with your blessing.”

“You should be concentrating on finding a wife.” Vader wagged his finger at him. “You get married, have children and then you can think about this business idea. Right now your place is here, helping me keep your bruders in line, seeing to the daily chores and working here—” he paused to spread his hands wide “—with your family.”

Paul lowered his gaze to stare at the top of his boots. He wanted to give his vader time to think about the possibility of expanding, and yet if he didn’t act soon, the shop would surely be rented out to someone else. He couldn’t let that happen.

“You need time to think about this,” Paul said in a quiet voice.

“Nee, I don’t. Your place is here.” His vader’s tone was dismissive. “Another order for a cabinet came in while you were over at the Millers’. I wrote the dimensions down. You can get started on that.”

Paul loved and respected his vader, but he couldn’t accept his decision. Not when Paul hadn’t even shown him his plans for the new store, or explained to him how this would help the entire Burkholder family, not just himself. But his father had turned his back on him. The last time he’d wanted to go against his vader’s wishes had been the day David Miller had died.

Paul had wanted to go play with his friends in the barn, but it had been a particularly trying day at their house with the loss of one of their cows after a difficult birth. Paul remembered wanting to be allowed to play. That day he’d followed his father’s wishes and stayed home. The outcome had left one friend dead and one scarred for life. To this day he’d felt that if he could have been there in that barn with his childhood friends, he could have prevented what had happened. Paul had never forgiven himself for what had happened.

Now, more than ever, he wanted to stand his ground. He wanted to see his dream of one day having his own store become a reality. He knew about the pride the Amish took in their families and their homes; after all he had the same pride. He’d taken his time when it’d been his turn to partake in rumspringa. Then Paul had thought about his life as an Amish man, the only life he’d ever known, and how he wanted to be a part of this church district. It had been seven years since he’d taken his vow and been baptized into the church.

He didn’t see how taking the furniture business into town meant he wouldn’t still be a part of his family’s life here. His plan had always been to live here and work in the village. He had to find a way to make his father come around and give him his blessing. There would be plenty of time later to think about taking a wife and making his own home. He closed his eyes, and for the briefest moment pictured Lizzie standing by his side.

He knew that dream was further away from reality than owning his own business was.

* * *

Lizzie sat in her vader’s favorite chair, the one that had soft fabric covering plump cushions, and looked out the front window. It had been a very long day and she should have been sound asleep in her bed. But her mind wouldn’t settle. There were too many thoughts and memories from this day swirling around in her head. Her mamm had sent a message saying she would be staying at the hospital with her vader overnight. Sadie had offered to stay over so Lizzie wasn’t alone in the house, but Lizzie had sent her home. Lizzie didn’t mind having some quiet time to herself.

Resting her elbows on the chair arms, she looked out the window and up into the night sky. There had to be a million stars shimmering against the inky blackness. The moon was three-quarters full and cast a sharp glow over the landscape. She looked out over the yard, where the tree limbs swayed in the breeze, their shadows dancing over the dewy lawn. Behind her the clock on the mantel in the living room showed it was ten o’clock.

Lizzie curled her hand into a soft fist and tucked it beneath her chin. She sat for a few more moments, pondering the day. She thought about how kind Paul had been to her; from the moment he’d brought her the paints until the time he’d returned home, she’d felt his kindness. Lizzie wasn’t sure she deserved it. For years she’d been pushing him away. Though she appreciated his friendship, there could never be anything more between them. Even the things they wanted in life were so different.

Paul wanted to open up a shop in the village. She didn’t understand how he could walk away from his family business. He’d begun to tell her about it earlier today, but they were interrupted by the hospital receptionist. Lizzie was content to stay home with her parents and help run the household. He liked talking to strangers and making them beautiful furniture for their homes. She wasn’t comfortable being around people she didn’t know. Even on the days when she had to go to the village to shop for her mamm, she timed it so there would be hardly any crowds in the stores. Lizzie imagined she could be content to stay just as she was. And now, with her vader’s illness, she was needed here more than ever. And when she needed a break, she could go off with her sketch pad and draw.

Off in the distance she heard the sound of a cow mooing. Lizzie looked out toward the barn. She saw a tall figure holding a lantern high.

Her heart pounded inside her chest, and then the man turned to look up at the house. Paul. Relief flooded through her as she stood up and went to open the front door. She stepped out onto the porch and waited for him to approach.

“Good evening, Lizzie.”

“You gave me quite a fright, you know,” Lizzie scolded him from the top of the porch step.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure the cows were secure.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she replied, putting her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. “Oh, my. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be yawning at you.” A nervous laugh escaped her.

Still holding the lantern out in one hand, he shoved the other into the side pocket of his dark pants. “Don’t worry. I know you’ve had a very long day. Has there been any word on your vader?”

“Nee. My mamm is staying at the hospital with him tonight.”

Through the darkness he studied her, as if trying to decide if it were safe for her to remain here alone.

Finally he said, “Promise me you will lock the doors.”

“I will. Danke again for everything you’ve done.”

“It was no trouble. I’ll be back tomorrow to take a shift with the chores.”

“Good night, Paul.”

“Good night, Lizzie.”

He turned and walked back down the pathway. She watched him until he was nothing more than a shadow in the fading moonlight. Long after Paul had gone, she stared at the barn doors. So many terrible memories of this day lingered inside that building.

She stepped back inside the house and shut the front door, locking it behind her. Turning around she spotted the bag Paul had given her lying on the side table, where she’d left it this morning. She nibbled on her lower lip, contemplating what was inside. Colors. He’d told her she should add colors to her drawings. It was easy to imagine tufts of green grass and swaths of blue sky coming to life on the paper.

After going into her bedroom and opening the bottom drawer in the dresser, she took out her sketch pad and pencils. Then she came back into the living room, sat down, turned up the lamp and then flipped the pad open to the last drawing she’d been working on. The bare-bones image of the barn glared up at her. Her heart felt as if it were squeezing inside her chest as she looked at the plain lines she’d drawn a few weeks ago. Lizzie picked up the pencil and held it poised over the page. Maybe Paul was right. She needed to bring color to her work, and to her life, she thought. Perhaps only then could she erase the starkness of the memories that haunted her.

Sighing, she set the pencil down and closed her sketchbook. It had been a long, long day. Shaking her head, Lizzie mused. Nothing about the past could be changed. Nothing. She needed to stop dwelling on what might have been. Being here with her parents, staying within the close comfort of the farm, this was her life. There was nothing for her beyond the fences.

It was time she accepted that and put thoughts of love and family out of her mind. For good.

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