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The Secret Sister
With nowhere to turn, penniless widow Grace Yoder travels with her young son to the Amish community of Seven Poplars. She hopes to reunite with the Plain father she never knew—and become part of the community. Though her father is deceased, his new family still welcomes her. Grace is overcome with gratitude. But when handsome family friend and Mennonite John Hartman offers her a job in his veterinarian office, Grace discovers a beautiful bridge between the two worlds. And prays John will ask her to stay by his side.
“Grace, this is our friend John Hartman.”
She waved toward a brown-haired man in a blue chambray shirt and jeans sitting at the head of the table.
Grace nodded. He didn’t look Amish to her. His hair was cropped short, almost in a military cut, and he had no beard. Definitely not a cowboy type, but nice-looking in an old-fashioned, country way.
John rose to his feet, nodded and smiled at her. “Pleased to meet you, Grace. I stopped by to check on one of the ewes that got caught in a fence.”
Grace wanted to ask if he was a farmer since it sounded as though he knew something about animals. She liked animals, especially dogs, and she’d always felt more at ease around them than people. But she didn’t want to complicate a sticky situation with Hannah and her family, so she thought that the less she said to a strange man, the better.
For now, anyway.
About the Author
EMMA MILLER lives quietly in her old farmhouse in rural Delaware amid fertile fields and lush woodlands. Fortunate enough to be born into a family of strong faith, she grew up on a dairy farm, surrounded by loving parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Emma was educated in local schools, and once taught in an Amish schoolhouse much like the one at Seven Poplars. When she’s not caring for her large family, reading and writing are her favorite pastimes.
Redeeming Grace
Emma Miller
MILLS & BOON
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But by the Grace of God, I am what I am.
—1 Corinthians 15:10
Contents
Chapter One
Kent County, Delaware...October
The storm beat against the windows of the house and rattled the glass panes. Since the early hours of morning, the nor’easter had hovered over the state, bringing high gusts of wind that ripped loose shingles on the outbuildings, sent leaves and branches whirling from the big shade trees and dumped torrents of rain over the Yoder farm. It was almost 10:00 p.m., nearly an hour past Hannah’s usual bedtime, but she’d lingered in the kitchen, reading from her Bible and listening to Aunt Jezzy sing old German hymns while she knitted by lamplight.
Neither Irwin, Hannah’s foster son, nor her two youngest daughters, Susanna and Rebecca, had retired for the night. The young people seemed content to remain in the kitchen, warm and snug, sipping hot cocoa, eating buttered popcorn and playing Dutch Blitz.
Today had been a visiting Sunday, rather than 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