A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

  A Simple Autumn is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Rosalind Lauer

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  All scripture taken from The Zondervan KJV Study Bible.

  Copyright © 2002 by Zondervan. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House.

  Lauer, Rosalind.

  A simple autumn: a seasons of Lancaster novel / Rosalind Lauer.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-345-52676-2

  1. Amish—Fiction. 2. Lancaster County (Pa.)—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3612.A94276S53 2012

  813′.6—dc23

  2012027601

  www.ballantinebooks.com

  Cover illustration : Melody Cassen

  Cover design : Melody Cassen

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Part One: Secrets Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Part Two: When Your Heart Aches Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Part Three: Dawning Grace Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Part Four: Season of Love Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Recipes from the Seasons of Lancaster Novels

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books by This Author

  About the Author

  PART ONE

  Secrets

  Ask, and it shall be given you;

  Seek, and ye shall find;

  Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.

  —MATTHEW 7:7

  ONE

  September

  A lull covered the congregation like a warm blanket. The preacher had been talking about faith for so long that his voice was now a gentle hum in the back of Jonah’s mind. Now was the time.

  Jonah King knew that church wasn’t meant for ogling people, but it wasn’t often these days that he was under the same roof as Annie Stoltzfus. He turned his head, just a few inches, to find her among the women seated on the other side of the barn.

  There she was.…

  Her face was framed by golden hair twisted back and tucked under her Kapp. Her blue eyes flashed his way, quick as lightning, and he looked away. All it took was one brief glance to get hope frolicking in his chest. Ya, he had it bad. Here he was, a grown man, and his heart got to racing at the sight of a girl.

  But there had always been something special about Annie. She wasn’t quiet and agreeable like most Amish girls. Annie was stubborn and spirited and willful. She loved to laugh, and she would stand face-to-face with a player twice her size in a volleyball game. Annie could hang tough; he knew that from years of skating with her on the pond or playing board games with his sister Mary and her. But when it came to children, Annie melted like butter. The little ones were her soft spot, the true way to her heart.

  Ya, Annie Stoltzfus was no ordinary Amish girl, and it was all the things that made her so different that pulled Jonah to her time and again.

  Of course, he never spoke about it. No one in his family knew that Annie Stoltzfus had hooked him ever since they were kids.

  How many years had he watched her and waited, hoping she’d notice him? They had learned their lessons together in the one-room schoolhouse, and when they were children she’d come to their house countless times to visit with his sister.

  And all those years, she only had eyes for Jonah’s brother Adam. Ya, Adam had been the name on Annie’s lips. She’d baked many a pie for him, and she’d fretted about him when he’d gone away during his Rumspringa, the time when Amish youth were given some freedom to date while their parents looked the other way. Adam had taken his rumspringa to extremes, leaving home for three years.

  Jonah glanced to his left, where Adam sat with that squinty-eyed look he got when he was thinking. Adam surely had a lot to think about. He was the oldest, and now the head of their family, a big responsibility for a man so young. Even with sister Sadie gone to Philadelphia, there were still ten of them at home—eleven if you counted their grandmother, Mammi Nell, a widow who lived in the Doddy house just behind the vegetable garden. Seated here on the men’s side, with Jonah, were Simon, Gabe, and Adam. Five-year-old Sam sat over in the women’s section with little Katie, who was only two. Mary, the oldest King girl, kept them under her watchful eye with help from twins Leah and Susie and twelve-year-old Ruthie. In Amish families, no child was too young to learn a chore, so there were usually plenty of brothers and sisters to mind the little ones.

  When Adam had returned to head up the family after their parents’ deaths, some folks had expected him and Annie to wed. But Adam had chosen to marry someone else, an Englisher girl with a yearning for a loving family and a heart big enough to help him raise the King children here in Halfway. Now that Adam was out of the running, Jonah wondered if Annie would finally see him in a new light. The Bible said that there was a time for every purpose under heaven. Maybe fall was the season that Gott might answer his prayers and plant a seed of love in Annie’s heart.

  He could always hope; nothing wrong with that.

  Jonah turned his attention back to Preacher Dave, who was still talking about the Bible passage “Judge not that ye be not judged.”

  “Judgment is a chore for the Heavenly Father to take care of,” Dave was saying. “It’s not our task to look at our neighbor, our brother or sister, and judge them. Isn’t that a wonderful thing? One less chore on my list for the day. We must let Gott be the judge. It’s not our place to look to the man or woman beside us and decide whether the things they do are right or wrong.…”

  Jonah straightened on the wooden bench, pressing his hands flat on his thighs. As his palms brushed the coarse broadcloth of his Sunday trousers he saw the truth in Preacher
Dave’s sermon. Ya, everyone knew they shouldn’t judge their neighbor. It was a lesson taught among the Amish all the time. Jonah took a deep breath, wishing folks could take it to heart and stop passing judgment on him and his brothers and sisters.

  The congregation seemed equally restless. Someone coughed. Little Matthew Eicher came toddling toward the men’s section, crossing from his mother to his father. A child fussed over in the women’s section, and in front of him the Zook boys nudged each other.

  Everyone’s itching to file out of the barn and catch the tail end of summer, Jonah thought as specks of dust glimmered in a shaft of sunlight from the hay-mow. Although they were more than halfway through the service, there was more to come.

  It was a fine September morning, one of those days that wasn’t sure whether it wanted to hold on to summer’s heat or let the trees and barns begin to cool from the breeze sweeping over the hills. The morning had been crisp and cold, but now, with so many people filling the barn, there was enough body heat to bring to mind a summer day.

  Rubbing his clean-shaven chin, Jonah frowned as the Zook boys stirred again.

  Eli Zook leaned into his younger brother John and whispered in his ear. John was brother Simon’s age, nine or so, and Eli had all the vinegar of a boy pushing into the teen years. Eli proved himself a bully, pinching his brother’s arm. That brought a glare from their father, Abe, though none of the other men sitting nearby was paying him any mind.

  The weight of Simon sinking against him told Jonah that the boy was falling asleep. Jonah slid an arm around his brother’s shoulders, boosting him up.

  Simon’s heavy lids lifted.

  Can’t let the boy doze off during Preacher Dave’s sermon, Jonah thought as his younger brother looked up at him with sleepy eyes, then took a deep breath.

  Big John Eicher watched from the bench off to the side. And Jonah noticed that Big John wasn’t the only one. Other men had their eyes on him and his brothers.

  Always watching. And judging? Even though the preacher had hammered away at them not to judge, Jonah felt disapproval heavy on his shoulders.

  A cloak of self-consciousness had hung over the King family these past two years. When their parents were killed, people had rallied to give them support. Casseroles and baked goods had appeared on their table and jars of beets and peaches had stocked their pantry. Nearby Amish families had invited the children over after school to distract them from their grief and give the older family members like Jonah, Adam, and Mary time to get the household chores done. Neighbors had helped with the spring tilling and planting. The whole community had turned out to raise the new milking barn.

  The good folks of Halfway, Amish and Englisher, had been more than generous with their help during the Kings’ time of need. But the farm was running smoothly now, better than ever with the new automatic milking equipment and the larger herd. Thanks to Gott, the family no longer needed assistance. Jonah had been relieved when folks were able to start greeting him without a veil of pity over their eyes.

  And just when things seemed to settle back to an even pace, Remy McCallister, Adam’s Englisher girl, had come along and turned everyone’s heads again. And then there was sister Sadie, who was hoch gange—gone high. Over the summer she had left home to sing with a group of Englisher musicians. He suspected tongues were still wagging over the King family.

  Jonah didn’t like the extra attention. It was like a splinter stuck under the skin. The skin healed over it, but the dull ache lingered. That was the problem now with his family. So many folks saw the Kings as different from other Amish families, and it wasn’t going to change anytime soon with Adam about to marry an Englisher girl, an Aussenseiter. Ya, Remy was working hard to learn their ways, but good and kind though she was, she was still Englisher inside.

  As one of the other ministers spoke about the evils of gossip that came from judging others, Jonah recited a silent prayer in his heart. Gott knew the Kings were a good, obedient family that followed the Ordnung, the rules and regulations of their church district. If only the people here could see that. “Help them see us with fair and honest eyes.”

  TWO

  After the service, Jonah pitched in with the other men to move the church benches from the barn to the tables outside, where they would be used as seating for the light lunch. The weather was holding, so the meal would be taken out in the sunshine.

  “Right over there,” one of the older women instructed as Jonah and his brother Gabe toted a long wooden bench. “Over by the beech trees. They’re in need of seating over there.”

  Jonah and Gabe followed her directions, clearing the crowd outside the barn and maneuvering around the rows of parked carriages.

  “Just put it over there in the state of Ohio,” Gabe said, making Jonah laugh as they traipsed through the grass. Gabe had a cutting sense of humor that often remained hidden.

  “Not that far. Just carry it to Bird-in-Hand,” Jonah said, referring to a town a few miles away in Lancaster County.

  “If we’ve carried it this far, I think we could make it to the next town,” Gabe muttered. Usually the tables were grouped in one spot, but the layout of the Eichers’ yard didn’t allow that, especially with the many carriages and buggies parked there today.

  When Jonah saw Annie over at one of the tables with his sister Mary, his fingers nearly lost their grip on the bench.

  This would be a good chance to talk to her. Some smart comment … Something funny to make her laugh. Annie’s laugh made everyone smile.

  But what could he say? Talking with girls had never been his strength. He kept quiet, and Annie didn’t pay any mind to Gabe and him.

  “They’ve already started packing,” Annie said as she set each place with a knife, cup, and saucer. Mary followed her down the table, pouring water into each cup. “They’ll be staying in Lowville with Perry’s cousin till they get on their feet. It’s an Old Order Amish group in upstate New York.”

  “Annie, what will you do without your sister?” Mary asked sympathetically.

  “And little Mark,” Annie added.

  From his time spent doing repairs at the Stoltzfuses’ house, Jonah knew Annie was attached to her nephews Mark and Levi. Mark was just a toddler, but Levi was around brother Sam’s age—a time when small chores could be turned into play.

  “It breaks my heart to see them packing up their little family,” Annie said.

  Jonah kept his eyes on the bench as he drank in the conversation. So Perry and Sarah Fisher were moving to New York. He’d heard some talk of Perry pursuing an opportunity there, but wasn’t sure the young family would be willing to pick up and leave Halfway.

  “I’m going to miss them so much.” Annie’s voice was laced with sadness. “But Sarah says I should come join them after they’re settled.”

  A chill curled up Jonah’s spine. Would Annie really think of leaving?

  “Annie, no!” Mary gave voice to his concern. “Could you just up and leave us in the blink of an eye?”

  “It wouldn’t be all that soon, and …” Annie’s voice trailed off as she noticed Gabe and Jonah nearby. “Anyway, let’s finish up here so we can help Lizbeth with the second shift.”

  Jonah lingered, listening. Annie couldn’t leave Halfway. She wouldn’t.

  “Come on.” Gabe clapped a hand on his back. “The sooner these tables get set up, the sooner we can eat. And the way I’m feeling, I could tuck away half the church spread.”

  As he followed Gabe, Jonah turned back to steal a look at Annie, who had drawn close to Mary for private words.

  Jonah lifted his straw hat to rake his dark hair back. A few overheard words from Annie and his heart had clouded over.

  Was Annie really going to leave Halfway?

  He was plodding back to the barn when he heard someone calling to him.

  “Jonah? Jonah King. Come.”

  He glanced up and saw two bearded men beckoning him from the porch. Uncle Nate stood beside a squat man with black eyeglasses�
�Jacob Yoder.

  Squaring his shoulders, Jonah tamped down his worries and climbed the porch steps. “The sunshine is back,” he said, tipping his hat.

  “After five days of rain, it’s good to know there’s still a sun to shine down on us,” Nate said with a wry smile.

  “But it got a little warm in the barn during the services.” Jacob’s brown eyes were magnified by his glasses. “I noticed that young Simon was dozing off in there. Everything okay? Is the boy sick?”

  “A boy needs his sleep, and we know our Simon has his problems with that,” Uncle Nate said. “Is he having the bad dreams again? I remember when he was sleepwalking through the night. That was a terrible thing.”

  “Night terrors,” Jacob said, wanting to set them straight. “That’s what Dr. Trueherz says they’re called. But the doc thinks they were caused by trauma.”

  And Simon had been through more than his share of pain. The only witness to their parents’ murder, Simon had suffered deeply during those dark days. Some nights the boy had paced the halls with a crazy look in his eyes and a panic in his heart.

  But not anymore. Many things had been resolved when the police had arrested the man who killed Levi and Esther King. And when the puzzle pieces had fallen into place, Simon settled into an easier peace.

  “I don’t think Simon has had a nightmare for a long time,” Jonah said, glancing over at the paddock where Simon was tossing a football with other boys his age. “And the night terrors ended in the winter.”

  “Good! That’s good to hear.” Jacob nodded, his head bobbing on his broad shoulders.

  “No more sleepwalking?” Uncle Nate asked.

  “No more. I think he’s just tired today,” Jonah said. “Probably because he’s been staying late in the stable with his horse.”

  “I’m counting on you to make sure Simon gets the sleep he needs,” Nate told Jonah. Their uncle did his best to look out for the family, Jonah knew that, but he felt himself bristling over the warning. Simon was a good boy.

  And Jonah didn’t notice anyone asking about why Eli Zook was pinching his brother during the service.