Promise Lodge Read online

  SECOND CHANCE

  It had always amazed her, how Noah handled his tools so effortlessly, as if they were extensions of his hands . . . strong, well-shaped hands that had once grasped hers and gently stroked her cheek.

  Noah turned as though he’d read her wistful thoughts. His dark brown hair framed his suntanned face in a mop of unruly waves. Even though he wasn’t Sunday-best clean, Deborah longed to touch him, to coax a boyish smile to his lips.

  “Hey,” he murmured. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I bumped your ladder—”

  “It was my fault!” Deborah insisted as she hurried toward him. “I was watching you instead of paying attention to how far I’d reached—how the ladder was swaying. You’re always so intent on your work, and so gut at what you do, Noah. It’s a joy to watch you.”

  On impulse, she flung her arms around him. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a bother,” she murmured. “I just had to tell you I was wrong—to see if we couldn’t patch things up and be together again. Please, Noah?”

  Don’t miss any of the Seasons of the Heart books by Charlotte Hubbard

  Summer of Secrets

  Autumn Winds

  Winter of Wishes

  An Amish Country Christmas

  Breath of Spring

  Harvest of Blessings

  The Christmas Cradle

  PROMISE LODGE

  Charlotte Hubbard

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  SECOND CHANCE

  Also by

  Title Page

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Psalm 121 (KJV)

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  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

  From the Promise Lodge Kitchen

  Deborah’s Peppermint Brownies

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  In memory of my dear friends

  Jim Smith and Fern LeMasters.

  Miss you both.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank You, Lord, for Your guidance as I begin this new series!

  Thank you, Neal, for our wonderful marriage of more than forty years.

  Many thanks to my editor, Alicia Condon, who embraced this series idea, and to Evan Marshall, the fabulous agent who keeps my writing career rolling. I’m ecstatic that we three are working together on this new series.

  Special thanks to Vicki Harding, innkeeper of Poosey’s Edge Bed and Breakfast in Jamesport, Missouri. Your assistance has been invaluable! Thanks and blessings, as well, to Joe Burkholder and his family, proprietors of Oak Ridge Furniture and Sherwood’s Christian Books in Jamesport. Mary Ann Hake, your help with all things Amish and Mennonite has been a blessing, as well.

  Psalm 121 (KJV)

  1 I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

  2 My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.

  3 He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

  4 Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

  5 The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.

  6 The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

  7 The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

  8 The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

  Prologue

  Rosetta Bender stepped out of the stable with a bucket of fresh goat milk in each hand, gazing toward the pink and peach horizon. Sunrises felt special here at her new home. She was grateful to God for helping her and her two sisters jump through all the necessary hoops to acquire this abandoned church camp. Its name alone—Promise Lodge—made Rosetta feel hopeful, made her dare to dream of a better life for her family and for the other Plain folks they hoped to attract to their new settlement. Even so, she let out a long sigh.

  “You sound all tuckered out and we’ve not even had breakfast yet.”

  Rosetta turned to smile at her eldest sister, Mattie Schwartz, who’d just come from the chicken house with a wire basket of fresh eggs. The sun’s first rays made a few silvery strands sparkle in her dark hair, which was tucked up beneath a blue kerchief.

  “There’s no denying that we set ourselves up for a lot of work when we bought this property,” Rosetta replied wistfully. “I wouldn’t move back to Coldstream for love nor money, but I wish I could join the gals who’ll be cleaning at the King place this week, helping Anna get their house ready for Sunday’s service. And I’d like to be at the common meal with everyone after church, too.”

  Mattie looked away. “So I’m not the only one who’s been missing our gut friends?” she asked. “In all the hustle and bustle of selling our farms and shifting our households to Promise, I hadn’t thought about leaving everyone we’ve known all our lives. Takes some getting used to, how quiet it is out here in the middle of nowhere, ain’t so?”

  “Is this a meeting of the Promise Lodge Lonely Hearts Club?” their sister Christine demanded playfully. As she stopped beside them, she shifted a bouquet of colorful irises so she could shield her eyes from the sun. “That gorgeous sunrise comes with the reminder that the heavens declare the glory of God and that we should, too—and I for one will not miss plenty of things about Coldstream. Every time I saw that new barn out my kitchen window, it reminded me of how my Willis died because someone set the old one on fire,” she declared. “I—I’m glad to be leaving those ghosts behind. Focusing forward.”

  Rosetta nodded, because she’d sold the house where Mamm and Dat had died, too—but Christine’s tragedy was far worse than the passing of their elderly parents. The Hershberger family had returned home last fall to discover their barn in flames. When Willis had rushed in to shoo out the spooked horses, one of them had kicked him against a burning support beam and part of the barn had collapsed on him.

  “And I won’t miss the way Bishop Obadiah refused to allow an investigation into that fire at your place, Christine,” Mattie stated. “God might’ve chosen him to lead our church district—and I understand about Old Order folks not wanting English policemen interfering in their lives. But Obadiah turns a blind eye whenever his son’s name is connected to trouble.”

  “Isaac Chupp and his dat know more about that barn fire than they’re telling,” Rosetta agreed. “And while I miss the company of our women friends, I do not want to endure another of Obadiah’s lectures about how you two should get married again and how I need to get hitched now that Mamm and Dat have passed on.”

  Christine chuckled. “Jah, he’s not one for tolerating women off the leash—”

  “Or women who don’t submit to husbands anymore, and who don’t keep their opinions to themselves,” Mattie added with a sparkle in her eyes. �
��If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget the look on his face when he heard we’d sold our farms so we could buy this tract of land.”

  “I thought Obadiah’s eyes would pop out of his head when Preacher Amos declared he was coming to Promise Lodge with us, too!” Rosetta chimed in. Just thinking about their last chat with Coldstream’s bishop made her laugh out loud. “We broke a few rules, leaving our old colony to start a new one, but I believe the pieces wouldn’t have fallen into place had the Lord not been urging us to break away and start fresh.”

  Mattie glanced toward the barn, where Preacher Amos and her two sons were milking Christine’s dairy cows. “Don’t expect Roman and Noah to agree with that,” she said. “My boys don’t like it that I sold the farm where they’d figured on living out their lives and starting families. But I believe they’ll have a whole world of new opportunities here—”

  “And chances to meet a bunch of girls, as well, when other families join us,” Christine pointed out. “That’s how my Phoebe and Laura see it. They’re both relieved that Isaac Chupp’s not pestering them to go out with him anymore. And so am I.”

  “It should be easier on Noah, too, now that he won’t be seeing Deborah Peterscheim wherever he goes,” Rosetta remarked. “I was sad to hear that they broke their engagement. They’d been sweet on each other for most of their lives.”

  “Oh, there’s more to that story than anybody’s telling.” As though she sensed her sons might finish their milking and come out of the barn at any moment, Mattie started walking toward the lodge. “Noah would never admit it, but I have a feeling he did something stupid and Deborah decided she’d had enough. But don’t quote me on that.”

  “And we all know that Preacher Amos really came along to look after Mattie,” Christine murmured, smiling slyly at Rosetta. “She’s pretending he doesn’t make eyes at her when he thinks we’re not looking.”

  As the three of them laughed and strode toward the timbered lodge, Rosetta’s heart felt lighter. Was there anything deeper than the love she and her two sisters shared? The surface of Rainbow Lake reflected the glorious sunrise, and as they passed the tilled plots that would soon supply produce for Mattie’s roadside stand, Rosetta gazed at the rows of newly sprouted lettuce, peas, and green beans that glistened with dew.

  That’s how it is with us, too, Jesus, she thought. You planted us here in Promise, in fresh soil and sunshine, so we can grow again.

  “What’ll we cook for breakfast?” Rosetta asked. Her old tennis shoes were saturated with the grass’s wetness, so she toed them off. Could anything feel better than walking barefoot in the cool green grass? “We could make French toast with the rest of that white bread in the pantry.”

  “And fry up the ham left from last night’s supper,” Christine added as she grabbed Rosetta’s wet shoes.

  “And nothing’s fresher than these eggs,” Mattie declared. “Your hens are laying as though they like their new home—even if the chicken coop needs a few new boards and some paint.”

  Rosetta gazed at the lodge building ahead of them, thinking a double coat of stain and a new roof would be welcome improvements. “Did we bite off more than we can chew?” she asked softly. “It’s going to take a lot of money and elbow grease to convert this lodge into apartments. Every time I turn around, I see something that needs fixing. I didn’t notice so many problems before we decided to buy the place.”

  “Are you saying we got a little too excited before we plunked down our money?” Christine replied as she slung an arm around Rosetta’s shoulders. “Don’t you dare admit that to the men.”

  “Are you forgetting that once the Bender sisters decide to make something work, nothing and nobody can stand in their way?” Mattie challenged, slipping her arm around Rosetta’s waist. “I’m the big sister, and I say we’ll handle everything that comes along.”

  “You’ll feel better after you eat a gut breakfast,” Christine assured her. Then one of her eyebrows arched. “Have you had your coffee yet, Rosetta?”

  Chuckling, Rosetta shook her head. “I filled the percolator but I didn’t want to wait for it to finish perking—and didn’t want to leave that old stove burning while I milked the goats.”

  “There’s your answer!” Mattie crowed as the three of them climbed the steps to the lodge’s porch. “Everything’ll look perkier after you’ve had a shot of coffee.”

  “And if the caffeine doesn’t kick you into gear, I will,” Christine teased. “You were born the youngest so Mattie and I would have somebody to boss around, after all.”

  “Jah, Mamm and Dat knew what they were doing when they made you last, Rosetta,” Mattie agreed. She held Rosetta’s gaze, her expression softening. “And they couldn’t have had a better caretaker in their later years, either. They’d be so tickled to know that the three of us are starting up a place for all kinds of folks to call home—folks like us, who need a fresh start and something to hope for.”

  Rosetta smiled as goose bumps rushed up her spine. Mattie had always been good at seeing the rainbow behind life’s storm clouds—and good at pointing out what others did best, as well.

  “It’s my fondest hope,” Christine murmured, “that amongst the new families we’ll meet is a fellow who’s just right for you, Rosetta. A fellow who’s been waiting for the best cook and the sweetest soul and the prettiest smile he could ever find.”

  “Amen, Sister.” Mattie squeezed Rosetta before opening the screen door for them. “How about if Christine and I cook breakfast so you can freeze your milk? I think our new families—and the renters in your lodge—are going to feel mighty special when they use the soap you make from it, Rosetta.”

  “Jah, I love your rosemary and mint bars,” Christine remarked as she led the way inside the lodge. “And the boys really like the cornmeal soap you make for scrubbing up. It cleans their grimy hands without making them smell girly.”

  Rosetta smiled. It was part of her dream, when the Promise Lodge Apartments were established, to welcome new tenants with samples of her handcrafted soap and to sell it in her gift shop, too. As she imagined the smiles and appreciative comments the colony’s new residents would make about her lovely, simple rooms and her special soaps, she once again believed she could accomplish all the necessary preparations to make her dream a reality.

  “You girls are the best, you know that?” she asked softly. “And you’re right. With the three of us Bender sisters helping one another, our dreams will all come true—because we won’t quit until they do.”

  “We’ll make it happen,” Christine agreed.

  Mattie’s laughter echoed in the high-ceilinged lobby in which they stood. Hours of scrubbing had cleaned the soot from the stone fireplace and their intense efforts with polish and rags had made the majestic double wooden staircase glimmer again. “We can’t fail,” she reminded them playfully. “Too many men are waiting for that to happen, and we can’t let them say I told you so.”

  “Jah, you’ve got it right—and you’ll not hear another peep of wishful thinking from me,” Rosetta stated. “We’ll make do, and we’ll make it all work out, and we’ll make new friends. Right after we’ve had our breakfast and a pot of coffee.”

  Chapter One

  Deborah Peterscheim stood at the roadside entrance to Promise Lodge, her pulse pounding. Her English driver was heading back along the county road with her last dollar. As she cradled a cookie tin in her arm and gripped the handle of her old suitcase, she hoped the three-hour trip from Coldstream hadn’t been a huge mistake.

  But it was too late for doubts. “This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it,” she reminded herself as she raised her face to the warm June sun. It felt good to let the breeze ripple her clothing as the trees whispered their welcome—such a comfort compared to the final, harsh words her dat had flung at her as he’d pointed toward the door. If only she hadn’t spotted the flames coming from the Bender barn. If only she hadn’t called 9-1-1 . . .

  One more time
, to reassure herself, Deborah read the ad she’d torn from The Budget: New settlement in north-central Missouri. Ample land. Lodging available while homes are being built. Limited number of apartments for single women. Old Order Amish and Mennonites welcome. Contact Amos Troyer, P.O. Box 7, Promise, MO.

  Surely Preacher Amos and the other friends from Coldstream who’d started this new colony would understand her need for a fresh start. First and foremost, she hoped to win Noah Schwartz’s heart again, after foolishly calling a halt to their engagement last month. Just one of several stupid moves, she thought with a sigh. But don’t let on about why Dat sent you away. Not until you absolutely have to.

  Deborah blanked out the painful parting images of her parents’ faces and instead focused on the handwritten sign at the roadside.

  WELCOME TO PROMISE LODGE

  OPENING SOON

  THE PROMISE PRODUCE STAND

  THE PROMISE LODGE APARTMENTS

  She recognized the clean, precise printing as Noah’s—he had an eye for arranging things, and a steady hand when it came to wielding a paintbrush or a welding torch. Did she dare believe that Noah was welcoming her to Promise Lodge? Or would he reject her apologies—her request for his forgiveness—before she could convince him her pleas were sincere?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Deborah walked beneath the arched metal Promise Lodge sign, which was positioned between trees that formed a canopy over the entryway. Their leaves rustled in the breeze, allowing splotches of sunshine to dapple the dirt driveway. When she stepped beyond the colorful trumpet vines at the entrance, she stopped to gaze at what she hoped would be her haven. Maybe her new home.

  Ahead, Deborah saw a tall, timbered lodge building with a wide porch and a grassy yard surrounding it. Several cabins nestled in the shade of ancient trees behind the lodge. In a fenced pasture beside an old red barn, black-and-white dairy cows grazed and goats munched on weeds as they watched Deborah. Off to her right, about an acre away, the surface of a lake shimmered in the sunlight.