The Promise of an Angel (A Heaven On Earth 1) (2 page)

vinsha
: wish

wedder
: weather

wundebaar
: wonderful

yummasetti
: A traditional Amish dish made with hamburger, egg noodles, and cheese

zudie shul
: to school

zvay
: two

Chapter One

Mecosta County, Michigan

T
he maple tree’s crimson canopy offered shade for the children in Judith Fischer’s charge, and a perfect place to stitch her quilt while viewing Levi Plank as he worked with the men building the barn. With the structure nearly complete, soon the supper bell would ring. Judith glanced toward the house. Her friend Deborah was busy preparing the outdoor tables for the meal. Judith enjoyed helping with the food preparations, but she loved sitting with the children and entertaining them with stories more.

Six-year-old Rebecca pulled on her sister’s sleeve. “Tell us another story.”

Judith turned back and eyed the tight circle of smiling children. “What color dress will the
maydel
wear?”

“Yellow,” said Rebecca.

Little Emily looked down at her own dark dress. “Not black or blue?”

A leaf fluttered from the branch above them and landed on Judith’s lap. She picked it up and twirled it by the stem. “In stories, people wear bright colors.” She tucked the red leaf into her tightly wound hair, leaving it to dangle from under the head covering. “Storybook characters can also wear wildflowers and colorful ribbons in their hair.”

Rebecca raised her hand to shield the late afternoon sun from her eyes as she looked up into the branches. “What’s her name?”

Judith repositioned the younger girl’s bonnet, then removed the leaf from her own hair and tucked the stem under Rebecca’s head covering. Feeling a tug on her other arm, she looked down at her five-year-old brother’s gap-toothed smile. “
Jah
, Samuel?”

“Name her Judith.”

The girls chimed in their agreement.

Emily’s eyes widened. “I’ll name the boy in the story.”

Judith glanced toward the barn and spotted Levi on the roof. She watched as he removed a nail he’d been holding between his teeth and hammered it into the wood. Judith couldn’t help but smile. Levi would make a perfect storybook hero.

“Let’s call him Andrew,” Emily blurted.

“Andrew?” Judith echoed louder than she intended. She followed the child’s gaze to Levi’s cousin, Andrew Lapp, and watched as he measured a piece of lumber. He paused, holding the pencil in place against the wood, and smiling, turned toward the children. As his eyes met Judith’s, he lifted his hand from the board and touched the brim of his straw hat.

Rebecca scrunched her freckled nose as she looked at Judith. “Why is your face red?”

Judith touched her warm cheeks. Before she could think of how to answer, she heard her sister Martha giggling behind her.

“Supper’s ready,” she said. “That is, if the daydreamer is ready to eat?”

Judith set the quilt section beside her and stood. Since Martha turned seventeen last month, her entire demeanor had changed. Judith hoped her father would notice the way Martha sashayed to the barn. He’d have something to say about that.

Judith lined up the children to brush the grass off their dresses, meanwhile watching Levi climb down the ladder out of the corner of her eye.

“Am I done?” Emily asked.

She looked at the girl’s dress. “
Jah
, run to your
mamm
.”

Martha had managed to be at the foot of the ladder as Levi reached the ground.

Sarah, Emily’s older sister, fanned her dress by pulling on both sides, then twirled in place. “What about me?”

After a few swipes, Judith sent her on her way. Her jaw tightened as she heard Martha and Levi laugh. She should be the one exchanging pleasantries with him, not Martha. She was the one turning nineteen tomorrow. She shooed the other children toward the house without inspecting their clothing, but held back Rebecca and Samuel.

“Samuel, you stay with Rebecca and me.
Mamm
doesn’t need to chase after you today.”

He pointed to the supper tables. “I’m hungry.”

Judith could see Martha, Levi, and some other girls their age moving in her direction. She pretended to brush grass off Samuel’s clothing. “
Mamm
wouldn’t want you to
kumm
to the table covered with grass.
Nau
hold still.”

“Hello, Judith.” Levi paused near the tree, Martha and the others clustered around him. “You sounded happy being surrounded by children all day.”

Judith blushed. He had noticed her under the tree. She thought she’d seen him gaze in their direction a few times.

Martha sighed. “She was filling their heads with nonsense again.”

Judith gritted her teeth and didn’t comment.

“She’s going to lead the children astray. They’ll all want to wear lacy gowns and ribbons in their hair.” Martha pointed to Rebecca. “See, she has our sister wearing colorful adornments.”

Rebecca’s lips puckered, and Judith quickly patted the girl’s slumped shoulders. “It’s okay. Martha used to listen to stories too.”

“Before I turned seventeen.”

Judith crossed her arms. “And you think seventeen makes you grown?”

Martha planted her hand on her hiked hip and shot her nose into the air. “At least I don’t dream of fairy tales. I—”

Judith hadn’t noticed Andrew joining their group until he cleared his throat and stepped forward. He reached into his pants pocket and knelt in front of Samuel. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” The little boy beamed.

Andrew handed him a galvanized nail. “After supper, I’ll help you pound that into a piece of wood.”

“Really?” Samuel rolled the nail over his palm, eyeing it as if he held a fistful of candy.

Andrew stood and dusted the dirt from his patched knees. “Sure. You want to build barns someday, don’t you?”

Samuel nodded. “And furniture too.”

Rebecca peeked around Judith’s dress. “Andrew was the name of the boy in Judith’s story.”

Judith’s breath caught as she glimpsed Andrew’s raised eyebrows. She sent a furtive glance in Levi’s direction, but he and the others were heading toward the house.

Andrew squatted and picked up the quilt Judith had been sewing. “Ouch!” He shook his hand. “I guess I stabbed myself with your needle.” He handed her the fabric, taking care to point out where the needle was stuck. “I hope I didn’t dirty your work.”

Judith looked down at the squares. “It’ll come out in the wash.” She hoped. When she married, she wouldn’t want her wedding quilt marred.

She reached for Samuel’s hand and caught Rebecca before she darted away. “You two need to wash for supper.” Avoiding eye contact with Andrew, she hustled the children toward the house.

As was the custom, the men stood on one side of the table, the women and children on the opposite side. While Bishop Lapp thanked God for the meal, the completed barn, and the day’s fair weather, Judith glanced across the table at Levi.

His thick broad shoulders gave him a towering build. Hat in hand and head bowed, his sandy-brown hair, damp with sweat, curled into ringlets and fell forward, covering his eyes.

She stifled the sigh that threatened to escape. If her father caught her staring at a boy instead of giving thanks to God for their new barn, she would hear about it. She tried to keep her eyes closed, but as the bishop’s prayer droned on and on, she couldn’t keep from peering at Levi again.

His eyes opened. He tipped his head enough to look between his coiled locks.

Her heart quickened. Tomorrow she’d be nineteen. In her dreams, she had already accepted his courtship invitation.

His glance passed over her toward the opposite end of the table.

She leaned forward on her tiptoes and craned her neck to see what he was looking at. His gaze had stopped on Martha. Her long, batting lashes and perfect, rose-glowing cheeks stole his undivided attention.

Judith looked again at Levi. He shook his head as a broad grin spread across his face. She wondered what her sister had asked him, and snapped her head in Martha’s direction to see her sister’s lips form an exaggerated pout. Disgusted at her inappropriate behavior, Judith turned her attention back to Levi to see him shrug at Martha.

Judith squeezed her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip.

This wasn’t how she dreamed things would be when she turned nineteen. While a few of her friends dared to speak of what it would be like to live outside the Amish community, Judith valued household duties, knowing they prepared her for marriage. She performed each task with vigor, even unpleasant chores like scrubbing barn-soiled clothes against the washboard, while pretending to be Levi Plank’s
fraa
.

Now his playful gestures toward her sister were unbearable. He’d talked about courting
her
once she turned nineteen. She had expected he would ask to take her home after the next singing.

Judith felt a tug on her dress and looked down at Rebecca.

“Where’s Samuel?” the little girl whispered.

Judith brought her finger to her lips. Even at age six, children knew not to interrupt the blessing.

She glanced to her other side, where her brother was supposed to be. Samuel was gone. She scanned the immediate area. He wasn’t with her parents or with the other children. He wasn’t— anywhere. She drew a deep breath. Once the prayer ended, she would search for him. He wouldn’t go far. She looked again at Levi, but a blur of blue in the distance caught her attention.

Samuel was squatting on the barn roof with hammer in hand, tapping a board.

Judith moved away from the table and ran toward the barn, prayer or no prayer.

“Samuel!” Her voice boomed in the near silence.

Samuel jerked upright, arms flailing. In the time it took to blink, he disappeared from view.

Judith sprinted to the other side of the barn.
Please, God, let him be okay. He’s just a child
. She pushed herself to run faster.

She rounded the corner of the barn and skidded to a halt. A man, an
Englisch
man, was kneeling next to her brother.

The man lifted his head away from Samuel’s face. “The boy’s alive.”

Judith collapsed to her knees as she stretched her hand to Samuel’s pale face. “Samuel.”

Her brother didn’t respond or open his eyes.

The
Englisch
man rose to his feet. “Have faith. Samuel’s steps are ordered by God.”

When she looked up at the man, his eyes flickered with a bright, wavering light. Her throat tightened, and she was unable to speak.

Then the sound of the others approaching pulled her attention away. Her older brother, David, reached them first.

“Samuel, wake up. Please.” Judith wrapped her arms around Samuel and clung to his limp, unresponsive body. “God, please,” she murmured.

David’s strong hands lifted Judith and set her aside as others swarmed around Samuel.

“No, please don’t—” Judith felt herself being pushed aside.

“Don’t cause problems,” David warned.

She drew in a hitched breath and wiped the tears from her eyes to clear her vision. From somewhere nearby, a voice resonated in a language she’d never heard. While everyone’s focus remained fixed on Samuel, she turned a complete circle in search of the source. The voice sounded like that of the stranger she’d found next to Samuel. How had he known her brother’s name? And where had he gone?

Filled with an urgent need to find him, she followed the sound of the harmonious chant and spotted the man crossing the pasture, heading into the apple orchard without looking back.

She moved cautiously at first, then with a surge of determination she lifted her skirt and broke into a full run. She lost sight of him, cloaked as he was in the undergrowth of the dense branches and an emerging thick haze that seemed to seep up from the ground. The fog turned solid at her feet, preventing her from following his tracks. He had disappeared.

She shivered at the memory of his penetrating stare. As though she’d looked at the sky through an icicle, his frosty-blue eyes etched her senses. Oddly, her core warmed with an inner peace.

A whoosh of wind, followed by a sound like sheets flapping on a clothesline, startled her. The murky vapor had cleared, and now shadows from the low-hanging branches filled the empty void. Somehow she knew it was pointless to follow, and she turned back.

Once clear of the grove, she sprinted across the pasture, hoping that no one had noticed her absence. Her heart still pounding hard, she steadied her breathing before she edged back into the crowd.

Her father was raising the rear wooden panel off the market wagon as the men lifted a board that held Samuel. They carried his limp body like pallbearers carrying a pine box.