Susanna's Dream: The Lost Sisters of Pleasant Valley, Book Two (23 page)

The genuine feeling in his face seemed to melt the ice around her heart.

“Don’t say that about yourself. Think about what you did in the flood, giving away without ever counting the cost. You’re a hardworking, generous man, Nate. You are.” She could hardly believe she was defending him, but it was true.

“It doesn’t look that way to me.” His lips twisted. “I lost what I valued most because I was so intent on business.”

Her heart thudded. He couldn’t be talking about her, could he?

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.” She rubbed her temple, trying to understand. “I was just as bad, so preoccupied with my shop, so desperate to have it back the way it was that I couldn’t see anything else.”

Somehow he was holding both her hands in a warm grip. “It’s not the same, Susanna. You gave your heart to your shop. I was at risk of giving my soul.” His voice had roughened with pain. “Ach, Susanna, don’t you see? You woke me up, made me start thinking about life again. Made me want to be a better man for you. I know I made a mess of it the first time, but can’t you forgive me and give me another chance?”

Fear ricocheted through her. To risk her heart that he loved her, wanted her—

Somehow she managed to push the fear away. That was her hangover from the past, that conviction that nobody could want her. This was the future.

Nate loved her. How could she turn away from him again?

He was still waiting, patient, anxious. She reached out to press her palm against his cheek, searching for the words.

He found them for her. “I’ll ask you for the second time, Susanna. Will you marry me?”

She smiled, feeling suddenly free of the past. “For the second and last time, yes, I will.”

Nate drew her into his arms, and she went willingly, sliding her arms around him and feeling him warm and alive under her hands. He loved her. This was her future. Nate loved her, and they would make a new life together.

E
PILOGUE

S
usanna
smiled as she looked around the crowded shop. She was having an open house to celebrate the new location of Plain Gifts, and folks had been streaming in all day long.

The Oyersburg Amish had turned out in force, as if today’s event was a continuation of hers and Nate’s wedding party the previous Thursday. And so many Amish from Pleasant Valley came that they’d had to hire a bus.

Their Englisch friends were there, as well, so many of the people with whom they’d worked during the trying time of the flood. Maybe everyone felt the need for a celebration of something. It would be a long while before the town was completely normal again, but it was good to celebrate the small accomplishments along the way.

Chloe appeared at her elbow, holding a serving tray of snacks and sweets. “I still say you should have delayed the opening so that the two of you could have gotten away for a honeymoon,” she said. “You’re newlyweds, and you’re working harder than ever.”

Susanna smiled fondly at her sister. “You’re a fine one to talk. You and Seth are going to be married in just a month, and I haven’t seen you go anywhere except to Philadelphia to bring your grandmother back for today.”

She nodded toward the corner where Margaret Wentworth sat, very erect, seeming to supervise the proceedings. Daniel approached her with a plate of cookies, and she shed the grande dame manner to smile at him.

“What are you two plotting with your heads together?” Lydia came over to lean heavily against the counter.

“You should sit down,” Susanna said, but before she could move to get a chair, Nate had brought one. He smiled at her over Lydia’s head, one eye twitching in the slightest suggestion of a wink.

Her heart fluttered. Here she was an old married woman already, but melting the instant her husband looked at her.

“Well?” Lydia demanded, her arm curved protectively around her belly.

“No plots,” Chloe said, leaning close to speak above the chatter in the room. “Susanna was chiding me for not getting away for some private time with Seth—”

“You started it,” Susanna said. “You and your talk about honeymoons.”

Chloe grinned. “I was about to explain that Seth has gotten so busy already that he doesn’t want to take any time off yet. And I’m content to be here. Where else would I want to be?”

Seth had begun a new business right here in Oyersburg. The town would come back, he’d said, and there was no reason why he couldn’t do for small local businesses what he’d done for big corporations in his last job. He seemed very content, happy to give up traveling all over the place for a quieter life and a slower pace.

Chloe was blooming, her happiness contagious. Between helping Seth get started, looking for a house for them once they were married, and helping Susanna get the shop completed, she still managed to find time to work on her research.

Chloe had echoed her thoughts, Susanna realized. Where else would she want to be?

Just two months ago she’d been in the old shop, contented enough but alone. Now . . . now she had family, friends, two dear sisters, a loving husband, and the shop. The quilt that her mother had made and her dear mother-in-law had saved now graced the double bed she shared with Nate. God had been so good to her.

“What do you suppose they’d think if they could see us now?” Lydia said, echoing the words Susanna had once spoken.

She didn’t have to explain, not to them, that she was talking about their birth parents. Despite the fact that none of them could remember their faces, they seemed very close and very dear at times. They had done their best for their three little girls. No one could do more.

“They’d be happy,” Chloe said, as she had before. “They’d be happy that we’ve found each other at last.”

R
ECIPES

Three Bean Salad

This is my standard dish for times when the power is off, as in an emergency. No cooking required, and although it’s better chilled, it can be served at room temperature.

FOR THE SALAD:

2 cups cut green beans, canned

2 cups cut yellow beans, canned

2 cups kidney beans, canned

¹
/
₂
cup minced onion

¹
/
₂
cup chopped green pepper

¹
/
₂
cup chopped celery

FOR THE DRESSING:

³
/
₄
cup sugar

¹
/
₂
cup cider vinegar

¹
/
₂
cup salad oil

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pepper

Drain the beans and place in a large glass bowl. Add the onion, green pepper, and celery. Mix the dressing ingredients together, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Pour the dressing over the bean mixture. Cover and refrigerate. The recipe can be doubled or tripled as needed.

Church Beans

These beans seem to go by different names in different parts of the country. I’ve heard them called “funeral beans” and “church lady beans,” and every cook seems to have her own variations in ingredients. I make this whenever I need to serve a hearty dish to a crowd.

¹
/
₂
pound bacon, diced

¹
/
₂
pound ground beef

1 large onion, diced

1 can (14-ounce) pork and beans

1 can (7- or 12-ounce) kidney beans, drained

1 can (8-ounce) butter beans or any white beans

¹
/
₂
cup brown sugar

¹
/
₄
cup ketchup

2 tablespoons molasses

¹
/
₂
cup white sugar

¹
/
₂
teaspoon mustard

Preheat oven to 350°F.

In a large frying pan, cook the bacon until lightly browned. Add ground beef and onion, cooking while stirring until browned. Stir in the beans and add the rest of the ingredients, mixing thoroughly. Pour into a 2-quart-deep casserole dish. Bake uncovered at 350°F for 1 hour. The recipe can be doubled for a larger crowd, and it can also be cooked in a slow cooker on low for 4 to 5 hours instead of baked.

Aunt Erna’s Banana Fudge Bars

This recipe is a good way to use up ripe bananas. It’s delicious and the ingredients are ones I always have in my pantry.

¹
/
₃
cup melted shortening

3 tablespoons cocoa powder

1 cup sugar

¹
/
₄
teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 tablespoon milk

2 well-beaten eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla

¹
/
₂
cup flour

1 cup mashed bananas

1 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Combine the shortening, cocoa powder, and sugar by hand or at a low speed with a mixer. Add the rest of the ingredients except the bananas and walnuts and beat well. Stir in the bananas and walnuts. Pour batter into a greased 8-inch-square pan. Bake at 350°F for 45 minutes. Cool and cut into bars. This recipe can be doubled for a larger batch.

Dear Reader,

Susanna’s Dream
continues the story of the three lost sisters and their efforts to create a bond after so many years apart. I hope you’ve enjoyed learning about the lives of Lydia, Susanna, and Chloe, and the family they’ve forged together.

The flood in this story is based on Tropical Storm Lee, which caused devastating flooding in my family’s small town and in others along the Susquehanna River basin. Although the names have been changed, the selfless actions taken by so many people to help others are genuine. We’ve seen again and again how generous and giving people are when they band together to face an emergency.

I would love to hear your thoughts about my book. If you’d care to write to me, I’d be happy to reply with a signed bookmark or bookplate and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can find me on the Web at martaperry.com and on Facebook at facebook.com/MartaPerryBooks, e-mail me at [email protected], or write to me in care of Berkley Publicity Department, Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.

Blessings,

Marta Perry

An Excerpt from

THE FORGIVEN

First in Marta Perry’s fascinating new series

Keepers of the Promise

Coming in print and e-book from Berkley Books in October 2014

R
hoda!
Joshua! Come to supper.” Rebecca Fisher stayed on the back porch until she saw her two kinder running toward the house. Rhoda came from the big barn, where she’d been “helping” Rebecca’s father and brother with the evening chores. Rhoda adored her grossdaadi and Onkel Simon, and Rebecca was grateful every day that Rhoda had them to turn to now that her own daadi was gone.

Joshua had clearly been up in the old apple tree that was his favorite perch. Paul had talked about building a tree house there for Joshua’s sixth birthday. That birthday would come soon, but Paul wasn’t here to see it. Rebecca’s throat tightened, and she forced the thought away.

“Mammi, Mammi.” Joshua flung himself at her, grabbing her apron with grubby hands. “Guess who I saw?”

“I don’t know, Josh. Who?” She hugged him with one arm and gathered Rhoda against her with the other. Rhoda let herself be hugged for a moment and then wiggled free.

“I helped put the horses in,” she reported. “Onkel Simon said I’m a gut helper.”

“Mammi, I’m talking.” Joshua glared at his sister. “Guess who I saw?”

“Hush, now,” Rebecca said, hating it when they quarreled, even though she remembered only too well how she and her brothers and sisters had plagued each other. “Rhoda, I’m wonderful glad you’re helping. Joshua, who did you see?”

Probably an owl or a chipmunk—at five, Joshua considered every creature he encountered a real person.

“Daadi!” Joshua grinned, unaware of the hole that had just opened up in his mother’s stomach.

“Joshua—” She struggled to find the words.

“That’s stupid,” Rhoda declared from the superiority of her seven years. Her small face tightened with anger. “Daadi’s in heaven. He can’t come back, so you can’t see him, so don’t be stupid.”

“Rhoda, don’t call your brother stupid.” Rebecca managed the easier part of the correction first. She knelt in front of her son, praying for the right words. “Joshua, you must understand that Daadi loves you always, but he can’t come back.”

“But I saw him, Mammi. I saw him in the new stable and—”

“No, Joshua.” She had to stop this notion now, no matter how it hurt. “I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t Daadi.”

His small face clouded. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Her heart hurt as she spoke the words.

“Please look, Mammi.” He pressed small hands on her cheeks to ensure she paid attention. “Please look in the stable.”

Obviously it was the only thing that would satisfy him. “All right. I’ll go and look. You wash up for supper.”

Josh nodded solemnly. Rebecca stood, giving her daughter a warning look.

“No more talking about this until I come back. You understand?”

Rhoda seemed about to argue, but she nodded as well. After pausing to see them headed for the sink without further squabbling, Rebecca slipped out the back door.

A quick glance told her there was no activity at the barn now. Probably her daad and brother had finished and headed home for their own supper. It wasn’t far across the field to the farmhouse where she’d grown up.

That field would be planted with corn eventually. Daad had mentioned that only yesterday, and she’d thought how strange it seemed that Paul wasn’t here to make the decision.

Turning in the opposite direction, she skirted the garden. The early onions were up, and in a few weeks the danger of frost would be over, and she could finish putting the rest of the vegetables in the ground.

Beyond the garden stood the posts from which the
FARM STAY BED-AND-BREAKFAST
sign should hang. She’d have to put it up soon. Her first guests were due the end of May, and she had to fight back panic at the thought of dealing with guests without Paul’s support. The bed-and-breakfast had been their dream, and he’d enjoyed every minute of their first season.

Last summer she’d been too devastated by his death to think of opening, but now . . . well, now she owed it to Paul to make their dream come true as best she could.

The stable still seemed raw and new to her even though it had been up for more than a year. They’d gone ahead with the building even after Paul’s diagnosis, as a sign that they had faith he would be well again.

But he hadn’t been. He’d grown weaker and weaker, and eventually she had learned to hate the sight of the stable that had been intended for the purebred draft horses Paul wanted to breed. The stable had stood empty ever since.

Steeling herself, Rebecca swung open one side of the double doors and stepped inside. Dust motes danced in a shaft of sunlight. The interior seemed to echo of lost hopes.

Sucking in a breath, she forced herself to walk through the stable, her footsteps hollow on the wooden floorboards. No one was here. Joshua’s longing for his daadi had led him to imagine what he longed for.

A board creaked behind her and Rebecca whirled, heart leaping into her throat.

A man stood in the doorway. Big, Amish, silhouetted against the light so that she couldn’t make out his face. Then he took a step forward, and she could see him.

For a long moment they stood staring at each other. Her brain seemed to be moving sluggishly. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with golden-brown hair and eyes. He didn’t have a beard, so she could see the cleft in his chin, and the sight stirred vague memories. She knew him, and yet she didn’t. It wasn’t—

“Matt? Matthew Byler?”

A flicker of a smile crossed his face. “Got it right. And you’re little Becky, ain’t so?”

“Rebecca Fisher,” she corrected quickly. So Matt Byler was back home at last. Nothing had been seen of him since his family had migrated out west when he was a teenager.

“You married Paul Fisher, then.” He came closer, making her aware of the height and breadth of him. “You two were holding hands when you were eight or nine, the way I remember it.”

“And you were . . .” She let that trail off. Matt had been a couple of years older than they were, and he’d been the kind of boy Amish parents held up as a bad example—always in trouble, always pushing the boundaries of what it meant to be Amish.

Now Matt’s smile lit his eyes. “You remember me. The troublemaker.”

“I . . . I wasn’t thinking that,” she said. But of course she had been. It was the first thing anyone thought in connection with Matt Byler. “Are you here for a visit?”

Matt didn’t have a beard, so obviously he hadn’t married. That was more than unusual for an Amish man of thirty. Surely his unmarried state wasn’t for lack of chances. A prudent set of parents might look warily at Matt as a prospective son-in-law, but the girls had always been charmed by his teasing smile.

“My uncle needs some help with his carpentry business, and he asked me to give him a hand.”

Everyone knew that Silas Byler had been struggling to keep his business going since his oldest son had so unexpectedly left the community. How strange life was that Isaiah, who’d never caused his parents a moment’s worry, should be the one to leave, while bad boy Matthew came back to take his place.

“I’m sorry about Isaiah. It was a heavy blow to your aunt and uncle, ain’t so?”

Matt nodded with a wry twist to his mouth. “Funny, isn’t it? Everyone was so sure I was the one headed over the fence.”

“You did a pretty good job of making folks think so, the way I remember it,” she said.

“Ouch.” Matt’s teasing grin appeared. “You’ve developed a sharp tongue, I see.”

“I’ve just grown up,” she said. “I have two kinder of my own now. Little Joshua must have seen you here at the stable. He thought it was his daadi.”

His face sobered instantly. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. Truly sorry. My uncle told me about Paul. You have my sympathy.”

“Denke.” She shouldn’t be angry with Matt over Joshua’s vivid imagination, but if she were being honest with herself . . . “Was there something you wanted here, Matt?” she asked abruptly.

He looked a little taken aback by the blunt question. “I’m looking for a building I can use for my furniture business. Onkel Silas told me about the stable and how Paul was going to . . .” He didn’t finish the thought. “Anyway, he said you weren’t using the stable and might be willing to lease it to me.”

Everything in Rebecca recoiled at the thought of putting another person’s business in Paul’s stable. “No.” Her tone was sharper than she’d intended. “I’m sorry. It’s not available.”

Matt’s eyebrows lifted. “It’s standing empty. I can pay you five hundred a month for the space.”

“It’s not available,” she said again, annoyed at him for putting her in this position, and unable to keep from thinking about what she could do with five hundred dollars a month.

Matt studied her face, his eyes intent and questioning. “You don’t like the idea of turning Paul’s stable over to someone else. I can understand that. But you have two little ones to raise. Can you afford to have it sitting empty when it could be earning money for Paul’s kinder?”

The fact that Matt was probably right didn’t make her feel any more kindly toward him. “I don’t think that’s your concern.”

“Maybe not. But it is yours, Rebecca.” He held her gaze for a moment longer, and she felt as if he was looking right into all her grief and uncertainty. Then he took a step back. “I wouldn’t do any harm to the place. Think about it.”

He turned and walked away. He was silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, and then he was gone, leaving Rebecca unsettled and upset.