Rosemary Opens Her Heart: Home at Cedar Creek, Book Two (2 page)

Rosemary Opens Her Heart

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Abby Finds Her Calling

About the Author

Chapter 1

M
att Lambright slipped out of the stream of nearly two hundred wedding guests who were
filing out of the house and into the front yard after his aunt Zanna’s marriage to
Jonny Ropp. When he reached the pasture fence, he loosened his stiff white shirt collar.
After more than three hours of sitting in front of the crowd as a newehocker, he was
ready for some fresh air.

The April sun warmed his face and the breeze riffled his hair. Matt breathed deeply.
He smelled the “roast” made with chicken and stuffing and the creamed celery, which
were about to be served for the noon feast…heard the bleating of his sheep grazing
in the pasture…saw his grandmother, Treva Lambright, walking toward her glass greenhouse,
where long tables had been set up for the traditional Old Amish wedding meal. He saw
so many smiles on the faces of family and friends who had come here to Cedar Creek,
Missouri, from such far-flung places as Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana.

His parents, Sam and Barbara Lambright, mingled among their many guests, looking happier
than he’d seen them in a long while. Aunt Zanna was his dat’s youngest sister, and
she had given them all quite a shock last fall when she’d walked away from marrying
James
Graber, their lifelong friend from across the road, because she was carrying Jonny
Ropp’s baby. Now that little Harley had arrived and Jonny had joined the church and
reconciled with his parents, all was well. Family ties among the Ropps had been restored,
and that was what mattered most.

Matt chuckled as he noticed James breaking away from the crowd, loosening the collar
of his white shirt as though he, too, couldn’t wait to get back into everyday clothes.
Aunt Abby had made their new black trousers, vests, and white shirts, but—as perfectly
as they fit—most fellows weren’t keen on wearing their collars fastened for any longer
than they had to. It was good to see James smiling, apparently enjoying the wedding
festivities, considering how Aunt Zanna had forsaken him.

“Well, Matt, you look all dressed and ready to get married yourself,” James teased
as he came to stand beside the pasture gate.

Truth be told, Matt had been studying the single girls from his bench up front during
the wedding service. Lately he’d been thinking about living somewhere other than his
lifelong home, with someone other than his parents, his grandmother, and his three
sisters. At twenty-two, with an established flock of sheep and some money in the bank,
he was eager to move beyond rumspringa—his “running around” years—into a more satisfying
life with a special someone…if only he could find her.

“Emma was gawking at you all during the wedding,” James continued in a low voice.
“My sister doesn’t talk about marriage much, as busy as she is with our parents, but
she’s sweet on you, Matt. Or at least when she bakes brownies, most of them seem to
end up at your place.”

“Emma?” Matt shrugged, searching for a polite way to state his case. “What with living
across the road from you Grabers and Emma’s being at our house so much while she and
Aunt Abby were growing up, she seems more like one of my sisters than somebody I might
court, you know?”

“Jah, that happens,” James murmured with a wry smile. “Sometimes we overlook someone
who’s been standing right in front of us for years even though the connection is obvious
to other folks.”

And what did James mean by that? Matt was in too fine a mood to pursue such a deep
topic, so he searched for something else to talk about. “Would you look at that?”
he said, gesturing toward the crowd beneath the trees. “Aunt Zanna’s holding Harley
to her shoulder, swaying from side to side as though she’s rocked him all her life.
Who ever thought she would take to raising a baby and making braided rugs? I didn’t
see this coming at all.”

“Zanna’s a gut mother.” James nodded his approval, even if he looked a little wistful.
“I wish her and Jonny all the best. It was God’s doing, the way they worked everything
out, and I hope God will reveal His plan for
me
sometime, too.”

Matt sighed, wishing he had picked a better topic. “I’m sorry I brought that up. This
can’t be an easy day for you.”

“It’s all right, Matt. Everything has happened the way it was supposed to. Now that
she and Jonny have tied the knot, I can move on, too, you see.” James gestured toward
the clusters of fluffy white ewes and lambs that dotted the rolling green hills behind
the farmhouse. “Looks like you’ve done right well for yourself,” he continued. “Something
tells me you’re better at shepherding a flock than you’d be at storekeeping. Or maybe
your dat didn’t want you going in with him to run the mercantile.”

Matt acknowledged James’s candor with a smile: the Cedar Creek Mercantile had been
in the Lambright family for generations, so most folks would have expected Sam Lambright
to pass the business down to him as the only son. “Never thought much about running
the store,” he replied. “Abby has her Stitch in Time shop up in the loft, so she helps
Dat quite a lot—knows as much about the inventory and ordering as he does. And my
sisters Phoebe and Gail have always been better at keeping the shelves straightened
and making out the orders than I would ever be.”

He drank in the satisfying sight of his sheep on the lush hillsides. “You know how
it is,” he continued in a thoughtful tone. “One business rarely brings in enough to
pay for a large family. Just as there’s not enough income from your dat’s farm for
you to support a wife and children, we Lambrights can’t all be storekeepers. My dat
has no time to farm his land while he’s running the mercantile, so it’s a gut thing
for all of us that I can raise sheep and grow enough hay and grain to feed them and
our horses, too.”

“Jah, you’ve got that right. I apprenticed to make carriages right out of school because
I was a lot more interested in running the roads than I was in raising crops,” James
said with a chuckle. “There’s always a need for buggies and wagons amongst Plain people.”

Matt raised a hand to signal for his two border collies. “Lois Yutzy was telling me
her husband Ezra’s brother, Titus, raises sheep over past Queen City and he might
be looking to trade some breeding stock. He’s supposed to be here today, but I haven’t
had a chance to look for him.”

“You’ve drawn a big crowd today.” James leaned down to rumple the ears of the two
black-and-white dogs that had raced up from the pasture. “And you two pups are dressed
up just like the rest of us, ain’t so? Always in your Sunday black and white.”

Folks often complimented Matt’s border collies, which were not only well-disciplined
flock dogs, but also eager to be friends with anyone who would scratch behind their
ears. “Pearl will sit there all day if you keep rubbing her neck that way,” he said
as he watched the white-faced dog close her eyes in contentment.

When Panda stood at attention, Matt followed the dog’s intense gaze and spotted a
toddler coming toward them. She wore no kapp, and was still young enough for her pale
blond pigtails to be braided and pulled back. Her airy white pinafore drifted above
her blue dress with every determined step she took. “Puppy! Puppy!” she said as she
approached them.

“Panda is the puppy with the black rings around his eyes,” Matt
said, smiling to encourage her, “and the one with the white head is Pearl.”

The little girl stopped. She studied Matt and James for a moment, her expression serious
until Panda let out a little
woof
.

When she laughed, Matt crouched beside her. “If you stand real still,” he murmured,
“Pearl and Panda will let you pat them. They want to be your friends.”

When the toddler put a finger in her mouth, Matt thought she was the most adorable
child he’d ever seen. James stopped stroking Pearl so the dog could focus on their
little visitor, and then both border collies stepped cautiously toward her, as though
they understood that such a young child could be easily knocked over. The girl extended
a hand and then cried out in delight when Pearl licked her fingers. Not wanting to
be left out, Panda nuzzled her other hand.

“Where’s your mamm?” Matt asked, glancing toward the crowd now making its way toward
his grandmother’s greenhouse for the wedding feast.

“Can’t say as I saw this little one during the church service,” James remarked as
he, too, scanned the group of guests. “Maybe she and her parents are Ropp cousins
who came from out East.”

The girl seemed unconcerned about her mamm’s and dat’s whereabouts. She was running
her fingers along the dogs’ silky ears, her expression rapt as Panda and Pearl patiently
allowed her to touch them.

Then a woman cried, “Katie!” as she stepped out of the crowd. She was dressed all
in black, from her kapp to her shoes, yet her melodic laughter and her wide-eyed,
playful expression made Matt’s heart pound. “Katie!” she exclaimed again as she broke
into a run. “I’ve been looking everywhere and— Oh, punkin, be careful around those
strange dogs!”

“Panda and Pearl love kids,” Matt assured her as he placed his hands on the dogs’
heads: he didn’t want them barking and scaring the little girl as a reaction to her
mother’s noisy approach. An impish
grin lit Katie’s face, and she tottered away as though running from her mamm would
be another fun game to play.

James scooped the escaping child into his arms. “She’s been in gut company here. We
wouldn’t have let her go into the pasture or down the lane, you see.”

The young woman opened her arms to take her child. “I can’t turn my back for two seconds,
or she runs off,” she explained breathlessly. “I was just talking to Aunt Lois and
suddenly realized Katie was gone and—”

“Lois Yutzy?” Matt inquired. Now that she had come this close, the woman looked younger
than her black clothing had led him to believe. She had smooth, flawless cheeks and
eyes as green as the trees that grew along Cedar Creek. Her sleek brown hair was pulled
neatly away from a center part and tucked beneath a black kapp that seemed far too
harsh for such a fresh complexion. She was awfully young to be a widow. “I’m Matt
Lambright, by the way. Zanna’s nephew.”

“And I’m James Graber.”

“Thank you for catching my little runaway. Katie’s a handful.” The young woman hugged
her daughter around the waist, planting loud, exaggerated kisses on her cheek. Katie
wrapped her chubby arms around her mamm’s neck, happy to be where she belonged.

The sight of mother and child clutched at Matt’s heart and he suddenly had a hard
time making conversation. This woman must have been seated in the rear pews, back
among the younger women, because he hadn’t noticed her during the wedding. Lois and
Ezra Yutzy had kin scattered all over northern Missouri, but Matt was sure he’d never
seen this pretty widow. He would have remembered her face, no doubt about that.

“I—I didn’t catch your name,” he said.

She smiled shyly, her face half-hidden by Katie’s dress and pinafore. “Doesn’t matter,”
she murmured. “I’m not from around here.” She turned and strode quickly back toward
the throng of guests.

“But it does matter,” Matt murmured as he gazed after her. Why hadn’t she told him
who she was? After the playful way she’d chased after Katie, he couldn’t believe she
was standoffish or unfriendly. Was she shy about being around folks she didn’t know?
Or modest because she was a widow?

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