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Courting Her Prodigal Heart
Courting Her Prodigal Heart
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Courting Her Prodigal Heart

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Eli stared at Rainbow Girl’s lip. How could she eat with that piece of metal in her upper lip? His own lip twitched. The loop in the side of her nose made his itch, but he resisted the urge to scratch it.

He studied her to find some vestige of the girl she once was. What had happened to that girl he grew up with who bested him in math every time? Where had the girl gone who’d brought him a handicapped puppy? How had she turned into...this?

She didn’t stop eating until her plate had nothing left. Hungry, indeed. It had been gut that he bought her the larger sandwich yesterday.

Eli hurriedly took bites and swallowed the barely chewed food. “Bishop, what is it you need me to do?”

“Let’s finish our food first. It’ll be better to show you.” In other words, eat, no talking.

Eli ate without looking at her again so she wouldn’t realize he’d been paying more attention to her than his food.

When finished, the bishop pushed his plate away from him. “Now, Eli, about that project I have in mind.”

Project? That sounded big. Would it take away from Eli getting his business started?

The bishop stood and retrieved a measuring tape from a kitchen drawer. “Follow me.” He walked down the short hallway to the back door opposite the front one. Hooks hung on the walls leading to the exit. A bedroom door to the right and bathroom to the left.

Eli had actually helped build this little haus many years ago when the bishop had turned over his farm to Andrew. Eli glanced at Rainbow Girl, who shrugged. He supposed he should follow and headed down the hall. She trailed behind.

The bishop stopped at the end of the hall and indicated the door. “I want to extend this another eight to ten feet.” He opened the door and walked down the steps outside onto the grass and turned around. “Come.”

The rear of the dawdy haus faced away from the crowd of people eating and playing.

Eli stepped aside to let Rainbow Girl exit ahead of him. She did. In stocking feet.

He followed this time. “Why do you want a longer hallway out into the yard?”

The old man smiled like a little boy. “For the extra bedroom, of course.” He strode about ten feet straight out from the haus. “Move the door to here. I still want to get cross ventilation. No sense being impractical.”

Eli’s mind whirled. Building onto his dawdy haus seemed impractical. What could he possibly need another bedroom for? Maybe he’d heard wrong. “You...want to make...your bedroom bigger?” That didn’t make sense either.

“Ne. A bedroom for Dorcas.” He turned to the right and held out his hands to indicate the space.

So she planned to stay for quite some time. Or at least, the bishop thought she would stay long enough to need a room.

Rainbow Girl stepped forward. “You can’t do this. I’ll be fine on the couch.”

He waggled his hand at her. “Nonsense. The couch will never do.”

Rainbow Girl folded her arms. “I won’t let you.”

“Uf, it’s meinehaus. I’ll do with it what I like.”

The bishop turned to Eli. “What do you say? Will you help me build it?”

“Why doesn’t she stay at the big haus?” That would be the easier option, and there would be plenty of room for her.

“Because she’s staying with me. Now, will you help?”

Rainbow Girl turned to Eli. “Tell him ne.” Apparently, she didn’t intend to stay.

Again, Eli wanted to say ne to doing something for the Englisher girl who had returned. Since she didn’t want the room—and he really had no other choice—he sided with the bishop. “Ja. I’ll help.” Then maybe he could find the girl she once was under her facade.

“Not only one room, but a smaller one across the hall, as well.” Bishop Bontrager spun around opposite the first room he’d indicated and thrust out his arms. “No sense wasting this space.”

“For what?”

The bishop waved his hand in the air. “No need to get into all that right now. I’d like to go into town tomorrow and purchase the lumber.”

This definitely meant Eli would need to put off making progress on his business. “What about your son? Won’t he help you?”

“Andrew is being stubborn.”

Rainbow Girl planted her hands on her hips. “Would you drop this? He won’t agree.”

Eli didn’t know if she was referring to him or her vater. It didn’t really matter. He had agreed, and the bishop could overrule his son, so, the addition would be built. “I can use meinevater’s wagon. What time shall I pick you up?”

Rainbow Girl rolled her eyes. “Don’t waste your time.”

The bishop turned to his enkelin. “It won’t be a waste.” He swung his gaze to Eli. “I’ll check with Andrew and see if he’ll allow us to use his wagon without a fuss. It’ll be more convenient.”

“Seriously?” Rainbow Girl threw her hands up and headed toward the doorway. “Men think they always know what’s best.” She disappeared inside, still muttering.

Eli frowned. But men did. Even with all that makeup, he could remember how cute she was when she got mad.

Bishop Bontrager clasped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll see the value of it in time.”

A part of Eli found a little pleasure in her being upset with him. She had rejected the community and her family, so she had no say in matters. Another part longed to mend this breach. It rankled to have her angry with him when he’d done nothing wrong, but it shouldn’t, and that rankled even more.

The bishop held out the tip of the measuring tape. “Take it down to that corner of the haus so we can figure out how much lumber to purchase.”

Eli wasn’t sure this was a gut idea, but he was the bishop, so Eli did as instructed.

Andrew Bontrager came around the corner. “What are you doing, Vater?”

“Eli is going to help me build another bedroom onto the haus.”

“What do you need a second bedroom for?”

“I think you know.”

Andrew pointed toward the dawdy haus’s back doorway. “For her?”

“Ja.”

Eli glanced toward the haus. Rainbow Girl stood there with her arms crossed. He hadn’t seen her return to the opening.

“Why bother? She’ll only leave again. Then all the time and materials and work will be for nothing.”

So Andrew didn’t believe she would stay. Did he want her to leave? Did Eli? Ne. He definitely wanted her to stay. Didn’t he?

The bishop held his hands out to his sides. “‘We should...be glad; for this thy brother—’ or sister in this case ‘—was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’ Where is your forgiveness?”

“Forgiveness is for the repentant. Something she is not.” Andrew spun around and strode away.

Bishop Bontrager gazed toward his enkelin. “He’ll come around, Dorcas.”

“Why’s that? Because he didn’t inherit your stubborn streak?” She disappeared inside.

Chapter Four (#uec86657e-6705-50cd-9003-02c52ab253e8)

The following morning, Dori had slept late—well, late for an Amish. She threw back the blanket and sat up on the couch.

It took some doing, but she’d managed to convince the bishop to stay in his room and let her sleep in the living room. She’d slept more soundly than she had in over a month since being kicked out of Craig’s apartment. She had no more worries that anyone would steal her belongings during the night. Sleeping in sweatpants and a T-shirt rather than her jeans and jacket had helped, as well.

The bishop didn’t appear to be anywhere in the haus. Had he already left with Eli? She pictured Eli’s kind face when he’d bought her a sandwich two days ago. Had she missed seeing him this morning?

She heard a sound on the porch, as though something or someone had stepped on a creaky board. With her hand, she pushed aside the blue curtain enough to see out.

Her mutter hurried away from the dawdy haus across the lawn back to the big haus.

What had she been doing here? Had she intended to come for a visit, then changed her mind? Ne. She wouldn’t defy Vater. Then why?

Out of curiosity, Dori opened the front door. On the porch sat a bundle of neatly folded fabrics. She picked up the pile and shut the door.

She spread out the clothes on the couch. Mutter had delivered two cape dresses—one royal blue, the other a medium pink—two aprons—one white and one black—and a white kapp. In the kapp lay several bobby pins. Everything Dori needed to dress the part of an Amish woman. These looked suspiciously like the garments she’d left behind. Mutter was welcoming her home even if Vater wasn’t. She wanted Dori to fit in. To look Amish. To stay.

But Dori didn’t want any of those things. She had been away for several years and had returned in shame. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant and Craig hadn’t thrown her out, she would never have come back. Being destitute and desperate had forced her home.

Home?

Was this home? For the time being, because she had no other option. If only Craig would have accepted their baby. No matter how much she needed her Amish family, this would never be home again.

She fingered the pink dress. Mutter remembered it had been her favorite color as a girl.

Dori wouldn’t feel right wearing Amish clothes. That would give everyone the impression she had come home to stay. Which she hadn’t. She was no more Amish than Craig. Or any Englisher. She hadn’t fitted in before she left and didn’t fit in now. Her vater and the bishop had repeatedly chastised her for one thing or another, trying to make her into a gut Amish woman, but she never could do things quite right, questioned too many of the rules. She’d been a disappointment to everyone. It had been best to leave. For everyone.

Though unwilling to return and no longer Amish, she did need help right now.

She hadn’t expected to have a warm welcome, but she hadn’t expected Vater to scorn her as he had. And she certainly hadn’t expected the bishop, of all people, to take her in. Of anyone, she would have expected him to be the toughest on her, but he was the most welcoming. What had caused his attitude change? If he could show her mercy and grace, maybe there was hope that her vater would soften toward her, as well. Would Eli too? She hoped so.

She took the pile of Amish clothes and tucked them behind the couch’s end table in the corner. She didn’t need the bishop pestering her to wear them.

After taking a gut long shower, she frowned at her brown roots in the mirror. She wouldn’t be touching those up anytime soon.

Overnight, her stomach seemed to have swelled so much that her jeans were no longer big enough to close. She settled for her lime-green sweatpants and an oversize neon orange T-shirt. Definitely not authorized Amish colors, but they fitted over her growing middle.

Now, for breakfast.

A single rinsed bowl with a spoon sat in the bottom of the kitchen sink. It looked as though the bishop had had cold cereal for breakfast. Or had he gone to the big haus?

No matter. She opened cupboards and drawers until she had a spoon, bowl and two boxes of cereal. The first, bran flakes with raisins, and the second, sugarcoated corn flakes. His version of sweetening his cereal. She was glad to see he hadn’t changed in that respect. She mixed the two in her bowl and poured the milk. She’d actually missed this.

When she was a very little girl, from about age six until she was ten or so, she would sneak across the yard to the dawdy haus and eat breakfast with him on Saturday mornings. She laughed to herself. She’d thought no one knew, that it was her and Grossvater’s secret, but Mutter likely watched her skip across the grass, then pretended to be worried over her absence.

Then things began to change. Kathleen Yoder had defied the church leaders and the bishop by leaving the community and attending college. Grossvater had spoken against her actions. He’d pointed a finger in Dori’s face and told her to never do anything like that. His anger had scared her, and she stopped her weekly breakfast treks to sit at his table.

Enough of thinking of things lost. She needed to wash her clothes so she could wear something else tomorrow.

Sometime later, noise from behind the dawdy haus drew her to the door. She opened it.

In the grass stood a wagon full of lumber as well as three young Amish men with the bishop. One was Eli. She allowed herself a moment to savor Eli’s presence, then studied the other two. Who were they? Daniel Burkholder, and the other was...Benjamin Yoder. So the bishop had used his influence to rope in more help. How many more would show up at his request?

Eli hoisted several two-by-fours at once that had to be ten feet long. Smithing had made him quite strong. The other two young men worked together to carry an equal stack. While the bishop carried smaller items like a bag of nails, hand tools and other lightweight things. Eli set his load in the grass and headed back to the wagon for more. His gaze fell on her, and she smiled. He froze. His eyes widened, as though he’d been caught raiding the kitchen in the middle of the night.

She glanced down at herself. She must look a fright in her brightly colored sweatpants and top...and no makeup. Or had the bishop told him about her condition? She hoped not. She didn’t want the tenuous bond between them to be broken. She resisted the urge to place her hands on her rounding belly and leaned a little forward so her baggy T-shirt would camouflage it better. He’d been careful not to mention that the smaller room would be for the baby. She appreciated that. She wasn’t ashamed of being pregnant, but for some reason, she didn’t want Eli to know. Maybe she would be gone before he ever found out.

This was foolishness. “Don’t you need a building permit before you start?” Dori had hoped the bishop would have to wait a couple of weeks before one was issued, giving her a chance to make other arrangements.

The bishop waved a piece of paper in the air. “Got one. Since this is a simple addition with no plumbing, they have a swift process to grant us permits without delay.”

Some Amish obtained waivers to exclude parts of construction that went against their community’s Ordnung but were mandatory in Englisher homes, like indoor plumbing, smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. This wasn’t new construction, merely a simple addition. But this New Order Amish community had most of the same conveniences as people in the outside world, so there wasn’t usually a need to get a waiver, which would take time.

Now, she was going to feel guilty when she left because he’d put in all this money, time, effort and supplies for this project. Probably his plan. A way to shame her into staying. She doubted he could be stopped if he didn’t want to be. His son had probably tried. Maybe she could talk to Eli and convince him to delay the work.

Doubtful. She’d seen his resolve solidify when she’d tried to get him to turn the bishop down for this project. He apparently planned to be as stubborn as the bishop. The image of Craig popped into her mind. He was stubborn too. She pushed thoughts of him aside for the time being.

For now, she turned her attention back to the activity outside. She would like to plant herself on the stoop and watch Eli while he worked, but that would make everyone feel awkward.

So she stayed for a minute before closing the door and taking the impressive image of the blacksmith with her.

With Eli fresh on her mind, Dori headed back to the living room. On her way, she checked on the clothes she’d left to dry in the bathroom. They hung over the shower rod and dripped into the tub as well as onto a towel on the floor. They should be fully dry by morning. She would’ve hung her Englisher clothes outside, but that would have drawn unwanted attention to her family. She needed to remain as invisible as possible during her stay.

She opened her backpack on the couch and retrieved her laptop and cell phone as well as their chargers. Then she unplugged the coffee maker and toaster, and plugged in her devices, stringing the cords over to the table. The phone cord didn’t reach, so she slid the table closer to the counter.

The bishop probably never imagined having such electronics in his haus. But maybe he should. More and more Amish were forced to have websites for online businesses. With farmland becoming increasingly more scarce to purchase, many had to resort to working for various manufacturers or home-building companies, or starting their own construction business or other ventures. The ones with businesses needed websites to draw customers from outside the community. Englishers were nuts for anything Amish made. Foolish people.

She opened her laptop and powered it up. Fortunately, Janis at the shelter, who stole other people’s property, never discovered Dori had this. While she waited for her laptop, she switched on her cell phone and turned it into a hot spot to get Wi-Fi. The service would likely be glitchy, but she had unlimited data, and it would be better than nothing. How had she grown up without computers and the internet?

She logged on to her email account. All junk mail. Nothing from Craig. Working to the sound of clunking lumber being stacked and male voices, she turned her efforts to searching for a job. After an hour of filling out online applications, she made herself toast with peanut butter and returned to the table. Needing a break from job hunting, she opened a new browser window and let her fingers hover over the keys. What should she search for?

For fun, she typed in Eli Hochstetler and hit Enter. To her surprise, hundreds of posts came up from various social media platforms. After the first page of results, the rest were obviously not relevant. She found three that seemed like they were referring to her Eli. All three raved about his ironwork. She clicked on each one and read. One for an herb chopper, the second for a kitchen knife and the third for a weather vane. Pictures for all three items, but none of Eli directly. His muscled arm wielding a hammer in one, the back of his head in another, his rugged profile in the third. She lingered on that picture the longest. Why were Amish so set against having their picture taken? It was only a picture. And Eli photographed well.

Then she studied the backgrounds of all three pictures. Multiples of similar items like the ones in the posts. It appeared as though Eli Hochstetler had gone into business, making more than just horseshoes. Gut for him. He’d always loved pounding on iron. She’d often wondered if he liked it because that was an acceptable way of letting out his aggression. But he never acted angry, like he needed to find a way to disguise the emotion. He genuinely seemed as though he simply enjoyed smithing.

She dug in her backpack and pulled out the door knocker. He had always done gut work. He must have a website. She would like to see all the things he’d made. After trying every variation of website names she could think of for him, her efforts yielded nothing. How disappointing.

Eli glanced at the dawdy haus again, but since that first glimpse, Rainbow Girl hadn’t shown herself. What was she doing inside?