New beginnings. New job. New love?
Amish Bachelors are full of surprises...
After a broken engagement, Helen Zook is embracing her independence—starting with a new job working for carpenter Mark Bowman. Sparks fly as Helen immediately butts heads with her handsome yet gruff boss, whose complicated past makes him hesitant to plant roots in Bowmans Crossing. But Helen’s eccentric aunt and a matchmaking basset hound have their own plans for Helen and Mark’s future...
After thirty-five years as a nurse, PATRICIA DAVIDS hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her online at patriciadavids.com.
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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
An Unexpected Amish Romance
Patricia Davids
ISBN: 978-1-474-08239-6
AN UNEXPECTED AMISH ROMANCE
© 2018 Patricia MacDonald
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.
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Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing,
and obtaineth favour of the Lord.
—Proverbs 18:22
“I don’t need a lecture from you.”
“I thought you wanted my advice,” Mark replied.
She fisted her hands on her hips. “You thought wrong. Since you seem to know so much about business, why don’t you come up with a plan that will work.”
“For you?”
“Ja, for me. I’d like to see you figure out everything I need to do to turn a profit. Since you are a furniture maker and not a baker, I don’t believe you can do any better than I did.”
“It would be difficult to do worse.”
Helen made that huffing sound that told him he should’ve stopped talking a while back. She took the dog’s lead from Mark’s hand. “Thank you for escorting me home. Good night.”
“I’ll do it,” Mark blurted.
“What?”
“I’ll come up with a business plan for you,” he said, wondering why he felt compelled to help someone who clearly didn’t want it.
“Don’t bother.” Helen tugged Clyde up the porch steps.
“It’s no bother.”
But she entered the house and shut the door without answering.
I have both a cat and a dog and I love them both, but my dog loves me back while my cat only likes me. Clyde is the combination of several dogs that I have owned. While none of them have been basset hounds, they shared some of the clownish behavior that is characteristic of the breed. Bumper, a Boston terrier, was a true clown. He would sing along while my husband played his accordion, and he would torment our cat.
Kahn, a massive black Lab, could knock you off your feet without a second thought. He was always sorry and would cover your face with kisses before you could get to your feet. He was also noted for licking my ear while I was driving. Not often, but it was distracting when it happened.
Gertie, a shepherd mix, would vanish at night and show up the next morning with a gift for me. Usually, it was a stick of firewood, cut and cured. I’d add it to our woodpile and thank her. Once, she brought me a pair of men’s underwear. We lived out in the country, and our nearest neighbor was a half mile away. I did not try to return the briefs. I sure wished she could tell me that story.
Sadie was a yellow Lab-and-pointer mix who owned our hearts for nine beautiful years. She had pussy-willow ears—long and softer than silk. I believe she understood everything we said. She had the amazing ability to do what we asked with happy, loving energy. I miss her greatly.
I believe our pets are angels sent from God to lighten the burdens of our lives and to show us truly unconditional love. As I am writing this, Sugar, my rat terrier mix, is watching me from the bed. She naps while I write but if I get up and