Redeeming Grace. Emma Miller

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Redeeming Grace - Emma Miller Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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a day of worship, and so it had been a relaxing day. Usually, on visiting Sundays, Hannah’s household would have company over or share the midday meal with one of her married daughters or friends. But the nor’easter had kept everyone home. Simply getting to the barn and chicken house to care for the livestock and poultry had been a struggle.

      Footsteps in the hall signaled Johanna’s return to the kitchen. Hannah’s oldest daughter had taken her two children up to bed earlier and stayed with them, reading aloud and hearing their evening prayers, until they dropped off to sleep. Katie, two, had adjusted easily to the move to her grandmother’s house, but Jonah, now five, was still difficult to get in bed, and once there, he was prone to nightmares. Since Johanna and the children had returned to live with Hannah, almost a year and a half ago, the boy often woke the entire house in the middle of the night screaming, and nothing would satisfy him but his mother’s arms around him.

      “Did you get them down all right?” Hannah asked as Johanna appeared. Hannah thought her daughter looked tired tonight. The strain of her husband’s illness and suicide and the need to return to her mother’s home had been hard on her; now she was learning the struggles of being a single mother. Even with the support of her family and friends, it was a difficult time in Johanna’s life. Hannah knew that Johanna worried about her son, and prayed that God would ease Johanna’s mind.

      “Katie was fine, but there’s a loose shutter on the bedroom window, and Jonah was afraid that a monster was trying to get in.”

      Hannah glanced at Irwin suspiciously. Even though he was almost fifteen, he still behaved young for his age, probably as a result of his parents’ death and his being shuffled around. “Have you been telling him stories about trolls again?”

      Irwin’s face reddened and he feigned innocence. “Trolls? Me?”

      “Under the corncrib,” Susanna supplied, looking up from her cards. She nodded firmly. “Ya. You said there was trolls with scabby knees, fleas in their ears and buck teeth.”

      “Did not,” Irwin protested. “Moles. I might have said there was moles under the corncrib.”

      “Were moles,” Hannah corrected.

      Johanna frowned. “Find someone your own age to tease.”

      “But I didn’t,” Irwin insisted, hunching his shoulders. “Must have been one of Samuel’s twins who told Jonah that.”

      “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. With Jonah,” Hannah said, marking her place in John with a red ribbon. She closed the big Bible. “Past time you were in bed, anyway. You’ll have to leave early to get to school in time to start a fire in the woodstove. After all this rain, the schoolhouse will be damp.”

      “Maybe the storm will get worse,” Irwin suggested. “Maybe there will be so much rain the school will wash away.”

      “I doubt that,” Johanna said. “It’s built on high ground, with a brick foundation.”

      Reluctantly, Irwin stood up, unfolding his long, gangly legs. He’d grown so much in the past three months that the trousers Hannah had sewn for him in June were already high waters, short even for an Amish teenager. She’d have to see about new clothes for him. Irwin was shooting up faster than a jimson weed.

      She’d never regretted taking him in after his parents died in that terrible fire, but an Amish teacher’s salary went only so far. Like everyone else, she had to watch her pennies, especially now that Johanna and the children had come back home to live. Not that Johanna was a burden; she contributed as much as she could. She had her sheep, her turkeys and her quilting, as well as the sale of honey from her beehives.

      Johanna picked up the empty popcorn bowl and Irwin’s mug. “I think I’ll turn in now, Mam. I have to finish that quilt for that English lady tomorrow.”

      “You think you can?” Aunt Jezzy asked. “If it’s still raining, Jonah will be stuck inside again all day, and—”

      “I know,” Johanna agreed. “He has so much energy, he’ll be a handful.”

      “I can take him with me to Anna’s,” Rebecca offered. “He can play with Mae. The two of them are less trouble when they’re together.”

      “Would you?” Johanna said. “That would be so much help. Katie follows Susanna around like a little shadow, and if you take Jonah for the day, I know I can finish those last few squares and press the quilt in no time. The lady’s coming for it Tuesday afternoon.”

      Irwin went to the kitchen door. “Come on, Jeremiah,” he called to his terrier. “Last chance to go out tonight. You, too, Flora.” The sheepdog rose off her bed near the pantry and slowly padded after Jeremiah.

      Abruptly, a blast of wind caught the screen door and nearly yanked it from Irwin’s grasp. He grabbed it with both hands, stepped out onto the porch and then immediately retreated back into the kitchen, tracking rain on the clean floor. Irwin’s mouth gaped and he pointed. “There’s somethin’...somebody...Hannah! Come quick!”

      Jeremiah’s hackles went up, and both dogs began to bark from the doorway.

      “What’s wrong with you, boy?” Johanna said. “Don’t leave the door open. You’re believing your own tall tales. Who would be out there on a night like this?”

      Hannah tightened her head scarf and hurried to the door as Susanna, now on her feet, let out a gasp and ducked behind Rebecca.

      “I don’t see—” Hannah began, and then she stopped short. “There is someone.” She stepped through the open doorway onto the porch.

      Standing out on the porch steps was a woman. Hannah sheltered her eyes from the driving rain and raised her voice to be heard above the storm. “Can I help you?” she called, shivering. She couldn’t see any vehicles in the yard, but it was so dark that she couldn’t be sure there wasn’t one.

      “Who is it, Mam?” Johanna came out on the porch behind her.

      “An English woman,” Hannah said. She motioned to the stranger. “Don’t stand there. Come in.”

      Johanna put a restraining hand on her arm. “Do you think it’s safe?” she asked in German. Then, in English, she said, “Are you alone?”

      The girl shook her head. “I...I have my son with me.” She turned her head and looked behind her.

      Standing on the lower step was one very small, very wet child. Instantly, Hannah’s caution receded, and all she could think of was getting the two of them out of the rain, dried off and warmed up. “Come in this moment, both of you,” she said. She stood aside, grasping the door, and motioned the English people into the house. Seconds later, they were all standing in the middle of the kitchen, dripping streams of water off their clothing and faces. The young woman was carrying an old guitar case and a stained duffel bag.

      For a long moment, there was silence as the Amish and the English strangers stared at each other amid the still-barking dogs. “Hush,” Hannah ordered. Flora immediately obeyed, but Jeremiah circled behind Irwin and kept yipping. Hannah clapped her hands. “I said, be still.”

      This time, the terrier gave a whine and retreated under the table where he continued to utter small growls. And then Susanna broke the awkwardness by grabbing a big towel off the clothesline over the woodstove and wrapping it around the

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