Her Forgiving Amish Heart - Rebecca Kertz Women of Lancaster County

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something about her expression that got to him. He wanted to learn all of her secrets. “I’m going to make you like me, Leah Stoltzfus, if it’s the last thing I do.”

      He draped the damp quilt over the counter to dry, then flipped off the light and went back into the rear room to finish the store’s bookkeeping. This building was the only one on the property with electricity. The church elders allowed it in certain businesses, although not in their homes and outbuildings. Cell phones were allowed for business use, but his parents were opposed to them so Yoder’s General Store didn’t have one. Henry knew that would have to change if they were ever to increase their business to include more of the English. Until then he’d keep his mouth shut and work in the store. He had a dream of his own and it wasn’t to take over the family business. But he stifled that dream because he owed it to his parents for all the trouble he’d caused them. Now, with his father suddenly in the hospital and his mother spending her days at his bedside, it was up to him to make sure Yoder’s General Store ran smoothly as usual.

      Someday, if the Lord deemed it, he would have his choice of making a living—as a cabinetmaker. Not in competition with Noah Lapp, who had a good business crafting quality furniture. But similar to what Ethan Bontrager did for a living in New Holland, making kitchen cabinets, vanities and bookcases. He and Isaac had spent some time in Noah’s furniture shop. He’d loved feeling the texture of the wood, instinctively knowing that he’d be good at cabinetry.

      Henry grinned as he recalled Leah’s reaction to his comment about her and Mary Bontrager. Isaac and he had never discussed Leah’s friendship with Mary. He knew because he’d seen them together often enough when he’d attended church service or Visiting Sunday gatherings. Isaac and he had talked about Henry’s secret desire for his future, and Isaac had mentioned that Mary Hershberger Bontrager’s husband, Ethan, made cabinets for a living. His friend had suggested that Henry talk with Ethan about the business. Henry had planned to visit Ethan the next day, but then his father’s recent heart attack had changed everything. He’d visited Dat in the hospital, where his parents had made him promise to run the store. Henry had agreed. Being a dutiful son was the least he could do for the parents who’d raised and loved him.

      Unable to be or do what he wanted didn’t mean he couldn’t make the best out of a difficult situation. He’d keep the store open. And I’ll convince Leah to forgive me. He smiled as he looked forward to the challenge.

       Chapter Two

      Her family was relieved to see Leah as she steered the wagon into the yard and parked it near the barn. They were all outside, as if hoping that the buggy sound they’d heard was her. She climbed down from the vehicle and faced them.

      “Leah!” Mam said as she hurried forward, quickly followed by Ellie and Charlie. “I was worried that you’d been caught in the storm.” Her eyes widened as she took in Leah’s appearance—the damp state of her clothes, her missing prayer kapp and wet hair.

      “Ja, I was caught at first but managed to find shelter.” Leah smiled to reassure her and her sisters as she watched her father descend the front porch and approach more slowly. He looked more concerned than her mother. “As you can see, I’m fine.” She met her father’s gaze as he drew close. “Dat.”

      “Leah.” He studied her as if gauging whether or not she was all right, then he seemed to let go of his worry. “I’m glad you’re home.”

      “I am, too, Dat.” She moved toward the house and everyone fell into step with her. “I’m hungry, though. ’Tis been a long time since lunch.”

      “Supper is nearly ready,” her mother said, moving ahead, apparently eager to get the meal on the table.

      “We’re having fried chicken,” Charlie added with delight. She hurried to help her mother.

      Leah turned to Ellie. “Were you caught in it?” she asked her sister.

      “Nay. Got home just in the nick of time.” Ellie eyed her carefully. “’Twas a bad one.”

      “Ja,” she agreed.

      “Ellie, you should help your mudder.”

      “Ja, Dat.” Leah watched her sister run into the house. She turned toward her father.

      “Dochter,” he said.

       “Ja?”

      “Was it awful?”

      She knew what he meant. He was asking how well she’d coped with her fear. He was the only one who knew of her phobia. He was the one who’d found her during a raging storm curled up in a ball in an open field, sobbing with terror as thunder crashed overhead and lightning flashed while it threatened to strike her. He’d picked her up and carried her to safety. Despite the fact they were walking through the storm to the nearest shelter in their barn, she’d felt safe and secure within his arms. She was three years old at the time. Her mother hadn’t been home. Mam and her older sister, Nell, were at her grandparents’ house. As young as she’d been, Leah had begged her father that no one learn of what happened. Her father had agreed readily. Her mother was with Meg, and he hadn’t wanted to upset her. And so they’d both kept the knowledge—and Leah’s subsequent fear of thunderstorms—to themselves. As far as she knew, she hid her fear well and her family still didn’t know.

      “Nay,” she said and realized that she spoke the truth. “I did gut.” Despite her initial terror, she’d weathered the storm better than usual—because of Henry Yoder. She felt worse than ever before for treating him badly.

      Her father’s expression cleared. “That’s wonderful, Leah.” His smile reached his eyes. “Let’s go eat supper.”

      Surrounded by her parents and sisters at the dinner table, Leah felt the stress of being caught in the storm and her time spent with Henry dissipate. She smiled as she listened idly to her youngest sister Charlotte’s conversation with Ellie.

      “Visiting Day is at Aunt Katie and Uncle Samuel’s,” Charlie said. “Can we bring chowchow and apple pie?”

      Ellie arched her eyebrows. “Why chowchow? I’m sure Aunt Katie has plenty.”

      Charlie frowned. “Who says she’ll serve hers?” Then softly, as if voicing her thoughts, she murmured too quietly for the others to hear, except for Leah who sat next to her, “I want to bring something I made by myself.”

      Leah shot her a look and noted the wistfulness in Charlie’s expression. She smiled in Ellie’s direction. “I think it’s a great idea for us to bring chowchow. The last batch was the best I’ve ever tasted.” She could feel Charlie’s gratitude in the release of tension in her sister’s shoulders. “I’m sure Aunt Katie only brings hers out if no one else thinks to bring some.”

      “That’s true,” her mother said with a smile. “So, we’ll bring chowchow, and I’ll make the apple pie and some sweet-and-vinegar green beans. Any other ideas?”

      “I’ll make potato salad,” Leah offered.

      Ellie grinned. “I’ll make a cake.”

      “I’ll help you with the cake,” Charlie offered, clearly happy that everyone had agreed that they should bring a bowl of her sweet-and-sour chowchow, a pickled mixture of the remainder of last summer’s garden vegetables, a favorite among the members of their Amish community.

      The next morning Leah worked to make German potato salad while Ellie and Charlie gathered the ingredients to make a cake and her mother rolled dough for an apple pie. She loved these times when the women in her family were all together in the kitchen, but she missed having her married sisters, Nell and Meg, with them.

      As she carefully drained the hot water off the potatoes, Leah found her thoughts drifting to Henry and his kindness to her during yesterday’s thunderstorm. The last thing

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