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His Amish Choice
Leigh Bale
He came back home…but will he stay?A Colorado Amish Courtships novelWhen Lizzie Beiler’s fiancé cast her and his Amish faith aside to pursue an Englisch education, she vowed never to marry. Now he’s back and helping on her father’s farm. And though Lizzie’s unsure she can ever forgive him, she finds their love still lingers. But is Eli finally ready to build a familye with Lizzie…or will he return to his Englisch life?
He came back home...but will he stay?
A Colorado Amish Courtships novel
When Lizzie Beiler’s fiancé cast her and his Amish faith aside to pursue an Englisch education, she vowed never to marry. Now he’s back and helping on her father’s farm. And though Lizzie’s unsure she can ever forgive him, she finds their love still lingers. But is Eli finally ready to build a familye with Lizzie...or will he return to his Englisch life?
LEIGH BALE is a Publishers Weekly bestselling author. She is the winner of the prestigious Golden Heart® Award and is a finalist for the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and the Booksellers’ Best Award. The daughter of a retired US forest ranger, she holds a BA in history. Married in 1981 to the love of her life, Leigh and her professor husband have two children and two grandkids. You can reach her at leighbale.com (http://www.leighbale.com).
Also By Leigh Bale (#ua50ad5ed-586f-5ac9-8547-dace8a00a839)
Colorado Amish Courtships
Runaway Amish Bride
His Amish Choice
Men of Wildfire
Her Firefighter Hero
Wildfire Sweethearts
Reunited by a Secret Child
The Road to Forgiveness
The Forest Ranger’s Promise
The Forest Ranger’s Husband
The Forest Ranger’s Child
Falling for the Forest Ranger
Healing the Forest Ranger
The Forest Ranger’s Return
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
His Amish Choice
Leigh Bale
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08637-0
HIS AMISH CHOICE
© 2018 Lora Lee Bale
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“I’m here to stay, Lizzie-bee,” Eli said.
“Don’t call me that.” Lizzie’s lips pursed with disapproval and tears shimmered in her eyes.
Lizzie-bee.
He held perfectly still, wishing he hadn’t used his pet name for her. It had slipped out. How he wished he could go back in time and mend the rift between them. That they could be friends again.
“You are welcome here on our farm, Eli Stoltzfus, but don’t expect anything else. I don’t trust you anymore and that’s that.” She whirled around and headed toward the house, plodding over the wide furrows of alfalfa with singular purpose.
I don’t trust you anymore.
Her words rang in his ears like the tolling of a bell. He watched her go, his heart plummeting. More than anything, he longed for a friend to confide in. But it obviously wouldn’t be Lizzie. Not only had he lost her friendship, but he’d also lost her confidence and there was no going back.
Dear Reader (#ua50ad5ed-586f-5ac9-8547-dace8a00a839),
Have you ever loved someone so much that their happiness was more important than your own? In His Amish Choice, Lizzie is angry and hurt when Eli abandons her and their Amish faith so he can receive an education in the Englisch world. But when she realizes that anger is not of the Lord, she softens her heart and is finally able to let go of the anguish and sorrow that has been troubling her for several years. She is then able to recognize that she loves Eli so much that she is willing to let him go, if that is what he wants. No longer are her own feelings and desires of utmost importance, but rather she has learned to put Eli and his needs above her own.
I know that, as we come to accept God’s will in our own lives, to soften our hearts in prayer, and to follow the Savior’s example, we can find peace and joy no matter what hardships we might face.
I hope you enjoy reading this story and I invite you to visit my website at www.LeighBale.com (http://www.LeighBale.com) to learn more about my books.
May you find peace in the Lord’s words!
Leigh Bale
The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.
—Romans 8:16
Thank you to Janet Pulleyn for infecting me with the soap-making bug. I have had a blast learning and consulting with you on new colors and fragrances. And thanks to Paul for letting me invade your home on more than one occasion. You are dear friends. Now, where shall we go out to dinner next time?
Contents
Cover (#u3b036770-897a-5d34-863b-d77340504dff)
Back Cover Text (#u0e652a08-28cc-54ca-838b-ff31d3790083)
About the Author (#u617cad6e-a53d-566d-8def-ad10826f3b1b)
Booklist (#ub9b9496d-23b6-5aa7-93c0-c195e949b2e3)
Title Page (#u96ae7910-1b5c-5457-92e8-282a764cadf1)
Copyright (#ue4937d5f-1a24-58c1-bef6-535363874f43)
Introduction (#ud2b6d8ab-a539-5100-a0d2-c688a6cff1f9)
Dear Reader (#u4a8ba5a6-043b-530d-a2c0-5ae286a12f66)
Bible Verse (#uf82e1919-e8d5-5801-a3bf-8074c1034bed)
Dedication (#uf9c08db6-69ed-5e58-a763-75e334286a82)
Chapter One (#u0ca216cb-10cc-51c1-8da4-11b89a339adb)
Chapter Two (#uece5805b-f547-58c3-9c79-e4a055453cec)
Chapter Three (#u1ab16108-e0ce-5e94-bffa-5e195a060f11)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ua50ad5ed-586f-5ac9-8547-dace8a00a839)
Elizabeth Beiler set her last crate of honeycrisp apples into the back of the buggy-wagon and took a deep breath. Picking the fruit was hard work but she could never get enough of its fresh, earthy-sweet smell.
Brushing the dust off her rose-colored skirts and black apron, she adjusted the blue kerchief tied beneath her chin. Because she was working outside, she’d left her white organza kapp at home. She arched her back, her gaze scanning the rows of apple trees.
Finally, they were finished. Not that Lizzie begrudged the work. It brought her a sense of accomplishment and security. She was just tired and feeling jittery with Eli Stoltzfus’s constant presence.
At that moment, he emerged from the orchard, carrying two heavy crates of fruit in his strong arms. His blue chambray shirt stretched taut across his muscular chest and arms. His plain broadfall trousers and work boots had dust on them. Wearing a straw hat and black suspenders, he looked unmistakably Amish. His clean-shaven face attested that he was unmarried. Lizzie was dying to ask if he’d had any girlfriends during the four years he’d been living among the Englisch, but kept her questions to herself. It wasn’t her business after all. Not anymore.
His high cheekbones and blunt chin gave him a slightly stubborn look. With hair black as a raven’s wing and gentle brown eyes, he was ruggedly handsome. Not that Lizzie also was interested. Not in this man. Not ever again.
As he approached, she turned away, conscious of his quiet gaze following her. She often found him watching her, his intelligent eyes warning that there was an active, gifted mind hidden beneath his calm exterior.
“Come on, Marty and Annie. It’s time to go home,” she called to her two sisters in Deitsch, the German dialect her Amish people used among themselves.
The girls came running, the long ribbons on their prayer kapps dangling in the wind. At the ages of ten and seven, neither girl was big or strong, but they were sturdy and a tremendous help on the farm. Their happy chatter also alleviated Daed’s quiet moods. He hadn’t been the same since Mamm died almost five years earlier. The union of Lizzie’s parents had been one of love. The perfect kind of marriage she had once dreamed of having with Eli.
“What are we having for nachtesse?” seven-year-old Annie asked, slightly breathless from her run.
“Ja, I’m starved.” Marty was right behind her, biting into a crisp, juicy apple from the orchard.
“I’m going to make slumgullion,” Lizzie said, thinking the meat and pasta dish was easy to make and very filling. “And we’ve also got leftover apple crisp from yesterday.”
She was conscious of Eli adjusting the crates of apples in the back of their buggy-wagon, no doubt listening to their conversation. He must be ravenous too, but he would eat at home with his parents.
“Yum! I’m so hungry I could eat Billie.” Annie leaned toward the bay gelding and made gobbling sounds. The gentle animal snorted and waved his head. Everyone except Marty laughed.
“You couldn’t eat Billie. He’s a horse. Don’t be dumm,” Marty said.
“No calling names, please. Be nice to your sister,” Lizzie reprimanded in a kind voice. “As soon as Daed gets here, we’ll go home.”
They didn’t have long to wait. Jeremiah Beiler emerged from the orchard, walking with their Englisch truck driver. Daed’s straw hat was pushed back on his head. Sweat-dampened tendrils of salt-and-pepper hair stuck to his high forehead. Dressed almost identically to Eli, Daed’s long beard was a light reddish shade with no moustache, signifying that he was a married man, now a widower.
The truck driver nodded, said something Lizzie couldn’t hear, then climbed into the cab of his tractor trailer and started up the noisy engine. A rush of relief swept over her. The back of the 18-wheeler was loaded with crates of apples from their orchard and the driver would deliver them safely to the processing plant in Longmont. Their harvest was secure.
Because of Eli.
As the truck pulled away, Daed turned and smiled at them, but frowned when his gaze met Eli’s. Lizzie knew her father didn’t approve of Eli. He feared the younger man’s worldly influence on his children and had hired him only at the bishop’s urging.
