Courting The Amish Nanny. Carrie Lighte

in the daadi haus by the time, on that particular day she had been out of town. Leora and the children had been home alone. But the Lord had been merciful; a neighbor happened to stop by for tea and discovered Leora sprawled across the floor, a kettle screaming from the stove and the twins wailing in their cribs. Even now it horrified Levi to consider what else might have happened if no one had come by before then. He’d never forgiven himself for failing to return Leora’s stepladder to its spot in the pantry. He had used it the day before when he was trimming dead limbs from the apple tree at the back of the house and then he’d forgotten it there. Leora must not have wanted to leave the babies while they were napping, so instead of fetching the solid stepladder, she’d stood on a chair from the kitchen. Borrowing household items and not returning them was one of Levi’s habits that had nettled his wife to no end, but until then, he had never imagined his carelessness would result in tragedy. What kind of spouse was so thoughtless about his wife’s needs? Levi came to believe he hadn’t deserved to be a husband, and sometimes he wondered why the Lord had entrusted him with children. But as long as they were his, he would do everything he could to keep them safe.

      The twins might not have understood the origins of the rule about keeping their feet firmly planted, but they understood they were meant to obey it. “I won’t do it again, Daed,” David promised.

      “How about if you and Elizabeth take turns sweeping and I’ll open the windows to air out Groossmammi’s place a little?”

      “So her smell doesn’t make us sad anymore?” Elizabeth wondered.

      If only it were that simple. Levi swallowed the lump in his throat. His children had lost so much at such a young age. They’d hardly known their mother, their beloved grandmother had died of congestive heart failure, and although they didn’t know it yet, they were about to have to bid their home and community goodbye, too.

      Given his mother’s death and the lack of suitable nannies in the area, Levi had realized he had little choice but to move back to Indiana, where Leora’s parents would help provide Elizabeth and David with the kind of stability and long-term care they needed. As grateful as he was for their help, Levi was concerned about how difficult the relocation would be for the children—and he had his own qualms about moving in with Leora’s family, as well. He hadn’t been especially close to his wife’s parents when she was alive, and after she passed on, Levi sensed they blamed him nearly as much as he blamed himself for her death. Not that he had ever told them—or anyone—about his part in his wife’s accident, but Leora’s parents had been terribly nervous when he and their daughter had ventured off to Maine. After Leora died, Levi imagined they felt their fears had been justified.

      Nevertheless, he’d begun making all the necessary relocation preparations, and he already had two prospective buyers who were very interested in the house and farm. As for employment in Indiana, he planned to take a job in an RV factory or work construction again. But first things first: Levi had to make it through Christmas season. After seven years, the trees were finally ready to harvest. If all went well and sales were what he expected them to be, Levi would have enough money to repay the loan on the land he and Leora had bought back when they were young newlyweds in love and thought they had their entire lives together spread out before them.

      “Jah.” Levi finally answered his daughter’s question, but he could have been talking to himself. “It’s better not to be reminded of things that make us sad. If we open the windows, the scent of the trees will waft inside.”

      “Then the haus will smell like Grischtdaag. And Grischtdaag is a happy smell,” Elizabeth said.

      “Jah,” David agreed. “That’s because Grischtdaag is when wunderbaar things happen, isn’t it, Daed?”

      In response, Levi smiled wanly and tousled his son’s hair. Holidays weren’t the same after Leora had died. Since his mother had also passed on, Levi didn’t even know how they’d spend Thanksgiving Day. The thought of celebrating Christmas felt overwhelming to him. He’d be so busy selling trees beforehand and then selling the house shortly afterward he felt like he wouldn’t have any time for festivities. But knowing the children were looking forward to the holidays gave him a boost of motivation. We’ll have joy again in our haus before we move if it’s the last thing we do, he decided.

      Sadie leaned her head against the window of the van. Although traveling by vehicle made her nauseated, she knew the older Englisch couple who’d transported members of her district for years were cautious drivers, and she shifted into a more relaxing position.

      It was a long trip from Little Springs, Pennsylvania, to Serenity Ridge, Maine. She’d begun the day excited to see sights she’d only read about—the scenic Pocono Mountains and Hudson River; cities like Allentown, Hartford and Worcester; and Englisch neighborhoods with houses spaced so close together it seemed the residents could stick their hands out their windows and touch each other’s fingertips. It was dusk by the time the van crossed the bridge linking Maine and New Hampshire, and the closer they got to their final destination, the more densely forested the land became. No wonder they nicknamed this the Pine Tree State, she thought.

      That was one of the few facts Sadie knew about Maine. As for the Amish community in Serenity Ridge, it was one of a handful of settlements that had been established in Maine in the past two or three decades. The families there hailed from places as disparate as Canada, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Missouri and Tennessee. Some were drawn to the area because the land was less expensive than in their home states; others came in pursuit of new opportunities or to escape the Amish tourism industry. The Maine settlements were still growing, and from what Sadie heard, Serenity Ridge only had about fifteen small Amish families in residence.

      That will be gut. The fewer people, the less chance of there being any hochzichen while I’m there, she thought.

      For the umpteenth time, Sadie inwardly chastised herself for acting so rashly and quitting her job. Harrison probably thought he’d really broken her heart, when actually she was over him within a week. That’s because I wasn’t truly in love with Harrison, she’d written in her diary when the realization struck her. I was infatuated with infatuation. From now on, I’m putting those notions out of my head. Romance isn’t everything after all. Confident a change of scenery would reinforce her new perspective, Sadie pushed any lingering embarrassment from her mind and quietly hummed the rest of the way to Serenity Ridge.

      Once they arrived at the daadi haus, the driver carried her luggage to the porch and wished her the best. Sadie pushed open the door, which Levi had indicated would be unlocked when he left the address and a brief voice mail on the machine at the phone shanty.

      He must have turned up the gas heat for her, because the kitchen was toasty and so was the small living room. The daadi haus also contained a bathroom and two cozy bedrooms. To Sadie’s surprise, her host had even made both beds up and set extra quilts at the foot of each one. What a thoughtful thing to do. He must have known I’d be exhausted. Deciding there’d be time enough for unpacking before she went to Levi’s house to meet him and the twins tomorrow, Sadie fell into bed.

      Her deep sleep was punctuated only by a morning dream about Christmas trees that was so real it seemed as if she was woken by their fragrance. But no, it was a rapping on the door that forced her to open her eyes and jump out of bed. It took a moment for her to recognize her surroundings before she cloaked her shoulders in a quilt and shuffled to the mudroom.

      “Guder mariye.” The rangy man who greeted her had a slightly crooked nose, a shock of dark hair and thick eyebrows framing his doleful green eyes. But it was his facial hair that really caught Sadie’s attention; not only was he sporting the usual Amish beard men wore after marrying, but he had a neatly trimmed mustache, too.

      Suddenly remembering her manners, she replied, “Guder mariye.”

      He must have noticed her gaze, because he pointed to his face and said, “Here in Maine, we do things a little