Amish Sleigh Bells
Autor
Patricia Johns
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14
They're worlds apart. Can love unite them? Spending yet another Christmas without a husband isn't something Lydia Speicher is looking forward to this season. Helping the new veterinarian, Thad Miller, navigate his way around the local farms is a welcome distraction, despite the Beachy Amish man's shocking customs. But when Lydia accidentally crashes Thad's truck and he's forced to borrow her family's sleigh, liberal Thad must live the conservative Old Order way of life until it's fixed. Lydia and Thad couldn't be more different, but while working together highlights their similarities, are they willing to change for love?
Chapter One
The wind howled outside the window, whistling past the house in a shimmer of icy, blowing crystals that glittered in the watery December sunlight. Inside the house, all was toasty warm, though, with the stove pipe pinging merrily, and the logs in the black potbellied stove snapping and popping.
Lydia Speicher pushed a steaming mug of black coffee across the worn, scratched wooden tabletop toward her father, who had his arms crossed irritably over his chest.
âThe bishop says that Thad Miller is an Amish man who needs our help,â she said. âAnd I agreed to help him.â
Lydia had gratefully agreed to help him. She loved her parents dearly, but life was getting so predictable lately, and even with Christmas approaching, sheâd found herself a little depressed. It wasnât easy being a single woman in her thirties in their community that was so centered on marriage and family.
âHeâs Beachy Amish,â her father muttered, picking up the mug and taking a noisy sip. âThat hardly countsâtheyâre just Amish enough to know better.â
The Beachy Amish lived very differently from Redemption, Pennsylvaniaâs Old Order Amish. Beachy Amish drove cars and trucks, they had electricity in their homes, and stopped short at TV and radio. They even had internet, although it was limited. The shocking number of concessions to the worldâs conveniences never ceased to amaze and disappoint Art Speicher, and he had very strong opinions on the matter.
âWe need a veterinarian in the community,â Lydiaâs mother, Willa, reminded her husband. âAnd Dr. Ted is gone for a while to see his daughter. People still need a vet.â Willa took a sip from her own mug of coffeeâhers taupe with cream. âAnd we happily use Englisher veterinarians and doctors and dentists...thereâs no real difference if heâs English or heâs Beachy Amish. Not to you and me, at least. This man is a large animal vet in our community, and he needs help finding the farms heâs servicing.â
âExcept the Englishers donât call themselves Amish,â her father retorted. âEven Paul doesnât call himself Amish.â
Willaâs lips pressed together in a thin, disapproving line at the mention of their oldest son, whoâd jumped the fence and gone English, and Lydiaâs gaze darted between her parents. Her daet didnât like this arrangement much with Lydia helping the Beachy Amish veterinarian, but when Bishop Glick asked, who was Art Speicher to argue?
Outside, an engine rumbled to a stop, and Lydia peeked out from behind the curtains. The driverâs side door of a silver, slightly rusted pickup truck opened and a man stepped out into the snowy cold. He was tall, broad shouldered, and had a felt hat on his head, but the hat was fancier than they normally had in these parts. It looked more like a black felt cowboy hat than a proper Amish hat, and while he wore dark-colored pants and suspenders visible beyond an open black woolen coat, the pants werenât broadfall, and his shirt was a startling blue plaid.
âOh my...â her mother murmured behind her. âVery fancy, indeed.â
Lydia had been asked by the bishop to help Dr. Thad Miller find the local farms heâd be serving for the next couple of weeks. Thad didnât know the area, and having directions like âturn west where the old silo used to beâ werenât terribly helpful to someone who hadnât lived in the community all his life, and especially not in December when all the fields looked the same under a mantle of snow.
The man looked around, spotted them in the window, and raised his ungloved hand in a wave. He was an attractive man who looked to be in his thirties like Lydia was. He had blue eyesâshe noticed from hereâand the boots on his feet looked to be scuffed cowboy boots. He was the most scandalous man in suspenders sheâd seen in her life.
But he also looked kind, and she approved of kindness. Truly kind people could be found just about anywhere.
âIâd best go introduce myself,â Lydia said, and she slipped past her mother and headed to the side door. She slid into her coat and stepped into her boots. Before she opened the door, she picked up her carpet bag that contained her latest crochet project she was working onâjust in case there were some slow times while she waited. She might as well make her time count.
âGood morning!â he called in perfect Pennsylvania Dutch. âIâm Thad Miller. The bishop said there was someone named Lydia who could guide me around these back-country roads. Is she home?â
âIâm Lydia,â she said, and she found herself feeling just a little bit bashful with this large, good-looking man. It would be easier if he was a little less...everything!
âGood to meet you.â Thad held out a hand to shake hers and Lydia stared at him, stunned.
âWe donât do that,â she said.
âDo what?â He dropped his hand.
âAmish women donât shake hands with men.â
âSorry.â Thad smiled ruefully. âThere are a few differences, I know. Iâll get used to it.â
âItâs okay,â she said. âBut I wouldnât be offering to shake hands with any of the wives you meet out here. They wonât like it. And neither will their husbands.â
âIâll remember that.â He did up his coat halfway, the cold seeming to get to him now that he was outside of his still-running vehicle. He was smooth shaven, which probably meant he was single, but with the Beachy Amish, no one could be too sure.
The side door opened and Art appeared on the step with his own coat on. Her father stroked his full gray beard. âGood morning.â
âGood morning!â Thad said, and he headed over and shook Artâs hand firmly. âIâm Thad Miller.â
âArt Speicher.â
âNice to meet you. Iâm Dr. Tedâs new assistant. Iâm covering his time away, and when he comes back Iâll be working with him. So you might see me around. Iâve heard good things about you folksâhow neighborly you are, and how helpful.â
Art muttered something and cleared his throat. Lydia couldnât help but smother a smile. It was going to be a whole lot harder for her father to be un-neighborly with that kind of introduction. Besides, Thad was offering something different to do with her days instead of her usual housework and crochet. And he would be around their community...that was news!
âIâd like to see where youâll be taking my daughter today,â Art said.
âOf course.â Thad pulled out a piece of paper. âIâd expect nothing less. But as you know, the bishop can vouch for me, and so can my home congregation. I come with the good opinion of my church, and a degree in veterinarian medicine.â
Art pursed his lips, unimpressed.
âIâm visiting only one farm this morning,â Thad went on, passing the page over, âand then Iâll drop Lydia back off. Itâs Jake Knussliâs place.â
Adel, Jakeâs wife, was the community matchmaker. What would Adel think of Lydia tagging along with this handsome Beachy Amish man? She wasnât sure!
âThatâs it?â Art asked. âI thought the bishop said youâd be working hard, not hardly working.â
Thad gave a half smile as if expecting it to be a joke, but Art didnât even crack a smile. Normally when her father used that line, he was joking. But Lydia knew her father. He could be difficult when it came to his deeply held opinions, and she silently prayed that he wouldnât embarrass her.
Thad chuckled all the same. âRight... Actually, after that I head back to the clinic. Thereâs paperwork to do, and possibly some cultures to start processing. There are a few clinic appointments, too. Thereâs always work, thatâs for sure.â
Art grunted, and Lydia shuffled her feet. The cold air worked its way around her legs.
âWell, Iâd best get moving,â Thad said, âif thatâs okay with you.â
Lydia gave her father a reassuring smile. While Thad Miller might not be ideal in any Amish sense, it wasnât like anyone was suggesting him as a marriage partner for her! This was a simple change of pace for a couple of weeks. She loved her parents and enjoyed her charitable work, but she did find herself getting quite bored these days.
âDrive safe,â Art said.
âThank you. I will,â Thad said. âLydia? You ready?â
Lydia went over to the passenger side of the truck, hauled the door open and hopped up into the seat. She had to push aside a black zippered insulated lunch bag. Her heartbeat sped up in excitement. This would certainly be something different to do, and she was looking forward to it. These days her only chance to get out other than her usual routine was when she went with her parents to service, or when she dropped off her crocheted items for those she thought could use them.
âAll right, so weâre heading to the Knussli farm, out past the Aberdene dairy,â Thad said, passing her the piece of paper.
âOh, yah,â she said. âGet out on the main road and head south toward the river. Thatâll get us going in the right direction.â
âOkay, then.â Thad put the truck into Reverse, and she watched as he spun the steering wheel on the palm of his broad hand and the truck backed up, then they were heading forward again. Driving would never make sense to her.
âSo youâll be working around here?â she asked.
âI will be. Dr. Ted just hired me last week.â
âYouâll like this area. Itâs a nice community.â
âYeah, I think so.â He shot her a smile. âItâs nice to be employed, too. Iâm looking forward to gaining more experience before I open my own practice. What about you? What are you aiming at?â
âMe?â She felt heat hit her face. âWell... I help people. Thatâs what I contribute around here. Iâm not married, and I donât have kinner, so Iâm free to help where other people arenât.â
âLike helping me?â he asked.
âYah. Like helping you.â
âWell, Iâm certainly grateful,â he said, and his smile warmed her middle.
But his question did probe at a tender spot inside of her. What were her goals? Sheâd always thought sheâd get married and have some children, but that hadnât happened so far. She liked to help others, and she truly felt like she was doing Gottâs work when she brought her crocheted blankets to shut-ins or new mothers. But she wanted to do more...help more. She just wasnât sure how.
Lydia gave him the directions as they drove alongâa turn here, a change of lane there. She knew these roads like the back of her hand. Sheâd grown up in this area, and sheâd never gone farther than visiting an aunt.
âThereâturn left,â she said.
The clicking signal light came back on again, and Thad made the turn. âAre you looking forward to Christmas?â
That old swell of bittersweet sadness flooded through her. She used to love Christmastime, and she still did, but Christmas was becoming a bigger and bigger reminder of the family of her own she longed for.
âI suppose so,â she said. âAre you?â
âI guess.â He shot her a grin. âI have a few nieces and nephews, and I get to spoil them a little bit. I enjoy it.â
âSo do I,â she said.
Christmas, though, seemed to be for children. They were excited about the little gifts, and the time off of school. They loved the extra cookies, the big family meals, and the chance to play with cousins. And while Lydia enjoyed all of the family time, too, she didnât look forward to the prying questions from aunts and uncles about eligible men, as if Lydia simply forgot about her lack of a husband and needed the reminder.
âDo you know how to drive?â Thad asked, tugging her out of her thoughts.
âMe?â She shook her head. âNo!â
Thadâs eyebrows raised, and she found herself noticing his good looks again when he cast a glance her way. If he was less attractive, that question might offend her. He might live with all those Beachy Amish freedoms, but she did not.
âDo you want to learn?â he asked.
âIâm Old Order,â she said. âWe donât do that, either.â
It was far worse than shaking hands!
âI know. I didnât mean for that to sound disrespectful to your way of life,â Thad said. âIâm only asking because weâll be driving through the field to vaccinate some calves, and when we get to them, I need someone to distract the mother cow, and someone else to keep the truck close in case I need to jump in. The farmer usually distracts the mother cow for me, and I was hoping you might keep the truck close.â
âI donât think Iâm supposed to be doing that...â she said. Was she? She wasnât sure.
âWell, someone has to,â he replied. âSometimes itâs someone from the family, or a neighbor... But if there isnât anyone else who can do it, I was hoping you might be willing.â
âIs it hard?â she asked.
âNot at all. Just...sit in this seat, press on the gas, and donât run anyone over.â
A smile tickled her lips. âThatâs it?â
âThatâs it.â
It didnât seem so hard, and she knew that Amish people helped out with motor vehicles in situations like this one. It wasnât unheard of. But sheâd never done it before.
âIt should be okay,â she said. âYouâll show me how itâs done, though?â
âOf course.â He cast her an easy grin. âYou might even have fun.â
Thad turned onto the snow-packed gravel side road, and he pulled closer to the side as another truck rumbled past. Lydia Speicher was exactly what heâd expected when Bishop Glick suggested she would be a good guide through these back roads. She was a prim, proper Amish woman who would never fall captive to his charmsâif that was the worry. She was from a good Amish family, and she was devoted to her faith.
âCan I ask you something?â Thad asked as he stepped on the gas again.
âI suppose so.â
âDidnât you try driving or anything during your Rumspringa?â
While his Beachy community didnât practice Rumspringa, Thad knew that hers did. It was a time of freedom for the youthâliterally translated, ârunning around time.â It was a time for teenagers to experience more freedoms so that when they made a choice for the church, it was informed and there were no regrets.
âNo, I didnât,â Lydia replied. âI got a job at a grocery store, and I stocked shelves. That was my great freedomâworking in town.â
âDid you enjoy it?â he asked.
âNo. Not especially.â
âThatâs too bad,â he murmured.
âI didnât need to try all the Englisher things,â she said. âI realized while working that job that what I really wanted was a snug little home, kinner to love, and a husband of my own. Unfortunately, that didnât happen.â
Thad knew it wasnât fair, but young men often didnât see the importance of depth of character. When he was younger, he didnât know how important that trait would be to him later on, either.
âYet,â Thad said.
âSorry?â
âIt hasnât happened yet,â he said. âLife isnât over.â
âWell, Iâm thirty now. I know how I look. Iâve been told for years that Iâm a bit horsey.â
Thad started to smile, then stopped. âYou are joking, arenât you?â
âNo.â
Who would have said thatâa brother, a teasing kid? Because it wasnât true. She was a beautiful woman, and heâd noticed that about her right away.
âWho on earth told you that?â Thad demanded. âHorsey? I donât know who said that, but it was a bold-faced lie. Lydia, youâre regal.â
Lydiaâs lips formed a silent âoh,â and she turned to the front again as if in shock. That was probably crossing a line, but it was true all the same.
âAll Iâm saying is that you shouldnât just give up on the life you want,â he said. âAnything you really want is worth working for, right? Thatâs what my daet always told me. Thatâs what made me push all the boundaries and go for my DVM.â
âDVM?â
âDoctor of Veterinarian Medicine. Itâs...a lot of schooling. And in our community, most people donât go beyond high school. Thereâs no need. But I knew what I wanted, and I knew it would take a huge amount of work. No one in my community understood what I was doing. But it was worth the effort, you know?â
âAnd you think me getting married is...like that?â she asked.
Thad chuckled. âMaybe? I donât know! Iâm not married, am I?â
âI donât know. I didnât think that beards meant the same thing to you in your community,â she said.
Right. With the Old Order Amish, a married man wore a beard. A single man was shaven. It was a clearer distinction than even Englisher wedding rings!
âWell... Iâm single,â he said, and somehow that clarification felt important to him.
âHow come?â she asked.
âWhat?â
âHow come you arenât married? Youâre plenty old enough, and youâre moderately good looking.â
Moderately good looking? He looked over at her with a grin. She had some spunk, this Lydia Speicher.
âI have a feeling thatâs as close to a compliment as Iâm going to get from you.â
âIt might be.â But she smiled back. âWell? I told you why Iâm single. What about you?â
âBecauseââ He was tempted to joke, to say how he was too handsome for women to take seriously or something, but somehow he couldnât make himself do it. âBecause the women in my community didnât understand my ambition,â he said. âAnd the women in my college didnât understand my faith.â
There were Christians there, but the Beachy Amish were very conservative. No TV. No radio. No social media. And he believed in those values, but no one he met understood them. He was the too-conservative guy who needed a woman whoâd understand those values he held dear. But heâd never met anyone who did. It had been lonely.
âBetween two worlds,â she murmured.
âYah, exactly.â It was the opposite of his time here with the Old Order Amish. He was caught between two worlds here, too, but in a different way. Here, he was the riotously liberal guy. Maybe he should just enjoy the irony.
âWell, we do have a matchmaker here in Redemption,â Lydia said. âAnd she might be able to find a match for me yet. Her name is Adel Knussli.â
âAs in the farm weâre headed to?â he asked.
âThe very one.â
Their first stop, though, was a couple of miles up the road, and when Lydia pointed out the entranceâwithout any kind of marker besides a sign that read Birdhouses and Simple Furniture, Inquire at the Houseâhe turned in. He never would have found this place without Lydiaâs helpâthat was a guarantee.
Thad drove down the long, narrow drive toward the farmhouse. The farm was set up like most Amish farmsâa large two-story house out front, and a stable for the horses to the side, with a corral out back, and a pasture. Beyond was a barn, and beyond that another barnâthis being a larger beef farm. And spread out past the barns were fields of grazing cattle. The scent of cattle was on the breeze, slipping into the cab of the truck through the ventilation systemâit was an old truck. No matter where he encountered that smellâat a huge beef operation, or a small dairy farm in the heart of Amish countryâhe always got the same pleasant sensation of coming home. He loved working with cattle and horses, and the privilege to work in veterinarian medicine was never lost on him.
Thad pulled to a stop next to the house, and the side door opened. A bearded young farmer came outside, clapping a felt hat onto his head as he emerged from the house. He had a reddish beard and a ready smile. He gave Thad a nod, then squinted, peering at Lydia next to him. Lydia waved, and the man nodded. This would be Jake Knussliâthe owner of the family-run farm.
âDo you think weâll have time for me to say hello to Adel?â Lydia asked.
âI think so,â Thad said. âCan we just see if thereâs someone to help out with the truck first? If not, Iâll need your help.â
âItâll work just fine.â A smile lit up her features and his heart stuttered in his chest.
Horsey, my foot, he thought to himself. She was gorgeous.
Thad pushed open the truck door, letting in a rush of chilly winter air.
âGood morning!â Thad called.
âGood morning,â Jake Knussli called back.
Thad introduced himself, and there was all the small talk about Dr. Tedâs new grandbabies and Thadâs time there so close to Christmas. Jake said hello to Lydia and asked about her parents.
âHave you got another man around to help keep the truck close while we work with the cattle?â Thad asked.
âIâm sorry, I donât,â Jake said. âI just have my wife in the house, but sheâs with the little ones.â
âItâs okay,â Lydia said. âSheâs got a three-year-old and a baby in arms. Iâll help out.â
Thad shot her a grateful smile. He was glad sheâd be along for the workâhe found he enjoyed her company.
Jake got into the back of the truck and they drove slowly down the gravel drive that led past the barns and toward the fields. Jake hopped down to open and close gates, and then hopped back up again. As Jake held the last gate and Thad drove through, the Amish man pointed out the cluster of cows theyâd be approaching.
âThe calf is in the backâyou can see the mother eyeing us now,â Jake said. âSheâs a feisty one. She hasnât let me near her calf. Itâll have to be a team effort, for sure and certain.â
âGoodâweâll get close, then Iâll get my syringe ready.â
Jake hopped up into the back again, the truck bouncing with the weight of him on the tailgate, and Thad stepped on the gas ever so carefully, easing them into the snowy field. Four-wheel drive was a must out here.
âOkay,â Thad said, glancing over at Lydia as he drove slowly toward the cattle. âSo Iâm going to give you a really quick lesson in driving a truck when we get over there. The key is to stay calm, and stamp on the brake if youâre not sure. Okay?â
âWhich one is the brake?â she asked.
âIâll show you. Donât worry. Itâs easy.â
But he could see the discomfort on her face. She was an Old Order woman, and this was not part of her world. No matter how pleasant she seemed, or how much he enjoyed her company, even something as simple as driving a truck twenty feet was a threat to everything she held dear.
Thad was no longer the conservative man out in the world. Now, he was the worldly influence. How was that for irony?
