A Reluctant Bride (Amish of Birch Creek Series #1)

A Reluctant Bride (Amish of Birch Creek Series #1)

by Kathleen Fuller
A Reluctant Bride (Amish of Birch Creek Series #1)

A Reluctant Bride (Amish of Birch Creek Series #1)

by Kathleen Fuller

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Overview

She never wanted to marry. He hopes to make amends for past wrongs. Can love find a way to heal both of their hearts?

Sadie Schrock swore she would never marry. All of her other Amish friends could court and marry—she was content to manage the family business and eventually take it over when her parents are ready to retire. But all of that changes when a reckless driver kills both of her parents and seriously injures her younger sister. With mounting hospital bills adding to the pile of debt her parents left behind, Sadie is left with no choice: she must marry. And not just any man—the man who saw her at her weakest and walked away.

Aden knows what his brother did to Sadie years ago was inexcusable. And every day since that incident, Aden has lived with the guilt for not intervening sooner. When he is faced with the chance to protect Sadie once again, he can’t let her down—even if it means living with the scorn of the woman he loves for the rest of his life.

Working alongside Aden at the store, Sadie realizes he isn’t the same boy who once betrayed her. Just when Sadie starts to let her guard down and perhaps develop feelings for her new husband, dangerous secrets are revealed. Now everything Sadie has worked so hard to protect is threatened, and she must find a way to save her family—and herself.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780718033255
Publisher: HarperCollins Christian Publishing
Publication date: 08/22/2023
Series: The Amish of Birch Creek Novels , #1
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 315
Sales rank: 56,737
File size: 2 MB

About the Author

With over two million copies sold, Kathleen Fuller is the USA TODAY bestselling author of several bestselling novels, including the Hearts of Middlefield novels, the Middlefield Family novels, the Amish of Birch Creek series, and the Amish Letters series as well as a middle-grade Amish series, the Mysteries of Middlefield. Visit her online at KathleenFuller.com; Instagram: @kf_booksandhooks; Facebook: @WriterKathleenFuller; Twitter: @TheKatJam.

Read an Excerpt

A Reluctant Bride


By Kathleen Fuller

Thomas Nelson

Copyright © 2015 Kathleen Fuller
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7180-3325-5


CHAPTER 1

Six years later

Sadie, hurry up! We're going to be late!"

Sadie lifted an eyebrow as the door to her room opened. Her sister Abigail huffed in frustration.

"You're not even ready." Abigail walked into the room, Joanna close on her heels.

Sadie returned her attention to the book spread out on her lap. "I'm not going." She crossed her ankles as she stretched out on her bed.

"But you promised you'd geh this time." Abigail looked down on Sadie, her forehead furrowing above her thick light brown eyebrows.

"I don't recall promising." Sadie turned a page, pretending to be absorbed in the book she was reading. "I recall saying maybe."

"Maybe is close enough."

"Maybe means maybe." Sadie glanced up at her youngest sister. Joanna stood a few steps behind Abigail, quiet as usual, her chestnut eyes wide and filled with innocent sweetness. Sadie peered at her around Abigail's shoulder. "You're not going to say anything in mei defense?"

"I'm a neutral observer."

Sadie chuckled. "Chicken." She looked at Abigail again. "Just so we're clear, I have no plans to geh to the singing tonight. I do have plans to spend the evening reading this fascinating book."

Abigail smirked as she peered down at the title at the top of one page. "The Basics of Accounting?"

"We all have to start somewhere." Sadie lifted the book in front of her, blocking her view of Abigail. She heard her sister blow out an exasperated breath.

"Sadie, please. You never geh to the Sunday singings anymore. Or to much of anything else, other than church. How are you going to get a mann if you don't make an effort?"

For the past two years her sister had been singularly focused on her own dating life. But that didn't mean she needed to extend that interest to Sadie's. "Who says I want a mann?"

"You need a mann."

Sadie set down the book, her mirth evaporating. "Mamm sent you up here, didn't she?"

Abigail shook her head, while Joanna nodded. Abigail turned around, glanced at Joanna, and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Mamm sent us. She said if you didn't geh tonight, we couldn't geh either."

Sadie sat up and dropped her book on top of the quilt. "That's not fair."

"That's what I said." Abigail put her hands on her slender waist. "But she was serious."

Sadie paused, stif ling a groan of frustration. For the last couple of years, the same two years Abigail had been so focused on her own prospects, their mother had been after Sadie to be more serious about finding a husband. Sadie wasn't interested in finding a husband, or even dating. Just the thought of being alone with a man, even a nice man, made her want to run in the opposite direction. But her mother had other ideas. Sadie swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. "I'll geh talk to her."

"It would be easier if you'd just geh to the singing." Abigail dropped her arms. "C'mon, Sadie. It will be fun. You'll see yer friends."

"The ones who haven't gotten married yet. I think that adds up to two."

"So? There are still a couple of guys who aren't dating anyone."

"For the last time, I'm not interested."

Joanna moved to stand beside Abigail. A few inches shorter and three years younger than Sadie, she'd always tried not to get involved in her sisters' arguments. "You don't have to be interested in the buwe that way." She smiled sweetly. "Just be nice."

"In other words, don't be yourself," Abigail added.

Joanna elbowed Abigail in the side. "You're not helping."

"I don't care." Abigail crossed her thin arms over her chest, acting more like a twelve-year-old than a twenty-year-old. "If we don't leave soon we're going to be late." She glared at Sadie.

Sadie ran her palms over the skirt of her old sage dress. She and Abigail were evenly matched in the stubbornness department. But so were Sadie and their mother, and Sadie knew even if she went downstairs and tried to convince Mamm to let her sisters go to the singing without her, Mamm wouldn't change her mind. Appealing to her father wouldn't work either. He would say, "That's between you maed," and then find a way to escape the room.

"Fine," Sadie said, a knot forming in her stomach. "I'll geh.

For a little while."

Abigail and Joanna both grinned. "Danki," Abigail said.

"Now, you two geh downstairs while I get ready." She started for her dresser. "Where's the singing again?"

"Sadie, don't you ever pay attention?" Abigail said. "It's at the Troyers'."

Sadie froze, and by the time she turned around to make an excuse — any excuse — for changing her mind, they had both left. Her hand curled over the edge of her dresser, and the knot that had started to form in her stomach transformed into a full-blown ache. Why was her mother choosing this singing to take a stand?

She willed her pulse to slow. When that didn't work, she silently asked God to do it. Sadie looked at her ref lection in the small oval mirror above her dresser. Her normally fair complexion was now paper white, and her stomach lurched at the thought of walking into Bishop Troyer's house.

When Abigail and Joanna were old enough to go to singings, she'd forced herself to go to the ones held at the Troyers' to ensure Sol stayed away from them, and she'd been relieved for the last year or two when he hadn't even made an appearance. To his credit — which he deserved very little, in her opinion — Sol had stayed away from her, and her sisters too, even at church services. Maybe he'd get married soon, since he was nearly twenty-five years old. Not that she'd wish Sol Troyer on anyone.

She knew why Abigail was so insistent on going tonight. It was no secret that she and Joel Zook were interested in each other. Joanna, as usual, just went along with whatever everyone else wanted. She was the most easygoing person Sadie knew.

She loved her sisters, and she didn't want to disappoint them. She didn't want to argue with her mother, either.

But the Troyers ...

If she protested too much, her family would be suspicious and would start asking questions she didn't want to answer. And she couldn't risk the chance that Sol would be there. He couldn't be trusted. Abigail had Joel, but what if Sol tried to talk to Joanna?

She had to do this. Sadie closed her eyes, then opened them again as she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

She would get through it ... somehow.

Lord ... help me.

Sadie quickly slipped into a nicer dress, black stockings, and her black shoes. She checked the pins on her dress to make sure they were straight, ignored the trembling in her hands, then headed downstairs.

"I'm ready," she said, tamping down her anxiety as she entered the living room.

Her mother looked up from the cooking magazine she was reading and smiled. "I'm glad you changed yer mind, Sadie."

"I didn't have much choice," she muttered. Even if she was going now with a purpose of her own, she didn't like her mother's slightly underhanded methods, although she understood Mamm had the best of intentions.

Although Sadie was certain her mother had heard her, Mamm 's smile remained in place. "I'm sure you'll have a nice time, dochder. It will do you gut to get out of the haus and be among friends."

Sadie forced a smile and nodded. "We won't be gone long."

"Speak for yourself," Abigail huffed.

"I am," Sadie said, giving her a look.

"You maed take yer time." Mamm glanced at Daed, who was lying back in the hickory rocking chair, his eyes closed and his mouth partway open as he quietly snored. Mamm shrugged. "I'll say good-bye for him and let him sleep."

"Bye, Mamm!" Abigail tugged on Sadie's sleeve as they walked out of the house. Joanna was standing by Sadie's buggy, the horse already hitched and ready to go. Sadie had bought both the buggy and the horse a year ago, after saving her money from working at the family store. Of course, her mother complained she worked too many hours, but Sadie loved to work. She enjoyed all aspects of the job — stocking shelves, ordering product, serving the customers. She'd started reading the accounting book and hoped she could convince her father to let her start managing the books, or at least help him with the store's accounts.

But most of all, and something she'd never admitted to anyone, was that the store was safe. When she was there, she didn't have to worry about Sol or Aden. By some miracle neither had stepped foot inside the store in years. Even if they had, between her family and the customers, she and her sisters were almost never alone. And when Bishop Troyer and his wife stopped by, she could always put on a smile and pretend she didn't resent their sons. She was happy with her life the way it was. She didn't want a man ... and she certainly didn't need one.

"Sadie, hurry up," Abigail said as she climbed into the buggy. Joanna scooted in next to her.

Sadie patted her horse's nose as she trudged by. Apple gave her a nudge and Sadie sighed. Even her horse was rushing her along. She got in the buggy and grabbed the reins, which nearly slipped from her slick hands. All she'd wanted was to spend the evening learning a little about accounting. Instead she'd be forced to dodge people she didn't want to see.

Abigail leaned forward, resting her chin on Sadie's shoulder as Sadie guided Apple out of the driveway. "Tonight will be fun," she said. "I promise."

Sadie clutched the reins and managed a nod. As her sisters started to talk about Joel and the other young men they'd see at the Troyers', Sadie tuned them out. Maybe she would be lucky tonight and Sol wouldn't be there. Maybe she'd be double lucky tonight and Aden wouldn't be around either. To her, one brother was as bad as the other.

* * *

Aden Troyer pushed the porch swing back and forth with the toe of his boot as he watched the buggies file one by one into the driveway. He didn't want to be here, but his father insisted — and he didn't dare refuse his father. He was past the age of attending these things, but his father persisted in having them, more for the youth of the community than for his own son. Yet every year Aden had to endure this mandatory attendance. He was getting sick of it.

The back-and-forth motion of the swing calmed his nerves a bit. If he had to be here, he didn't have to be inside. Not yet. At least Sol wouldn't be here. His father had stopped making his brother attend the past year or two. He thanked God for small favors.

He thought about Sol, about how the drinking was getting worse, along with his temper. He suspected his father knew about Sol's vices, although he never said anything about them in Aden's presence. Probably because he was too busy pointing out Aden's f laws. His many, many flaws.

He pushed the swing in motion again, lifting his head to see the latest person arrive to the singing. He watched as the buggy parked in front of the barn, neatly lining up with the rest of the buggies. The driver exited the vehicle.

Aden stopped the swing. What was Sadie Schrock doing here?

He leaned forward as Sadie's sisters, Abigail and Joanna, got out on the other side of the buggy. But Aden barely paid attention to them. Why would Sadie come here? This was the last place he'd expected her to show up.

But his surprise at seeing her wasn't the only reason he couldn't tear his gaze away. To him, not only was she the prettiest maedel in Birch Creek, she was also the most interesting. Sadie wasn't like other girls. He could always tell she was fiercely devoted to her family and to their business. She was serious minded, but there were also times he'd seen her lovely smile, heard her sweet laugh when he saw her talking with her sisters or her friends. He appreciated her. He admired her. He could easily see himself falling for her ... if things were different. If he hadn't run off and left her with Sol that time by the cornfield.

Maybe then she wouldn't hate him so much.

The front screen door opened with a squeak. "Aden."

Aden pulled his gaze away from Sadie at the sound of his father's voice. Daed was standing in the doorway, his face placid, nearly inscrutable. But Aden could see the glimmer of disappointment in his father's eyes, so small that Aden was sure only he could have detected it.

I've had enough practice.

"You need to be inside, sohn, to greet our guests."

He didn't look at his father. At twenty-two he shouldn't have to be talked to like he was a kid. "I'll be inside in a minute."

Daed paused. "I haven't received the money from this week's honey sales."

"I'll get it to you tomorrow."

"See that you do. And see that you come inside. Now."

Aden f linched as the screen door slammed shut. He kept watching Sadie as she lagged a few steps behind her sisters. From the pinched look on her face, he could see she didn't want to be here either. At least we have that in common.

He stood and went inside the house. He wasn't ready to face anyone, not yet. He snuck upstairs to his room and opened the bottom drawer of his small dresser. Beneath a layer of socks was the envelope that held the money. His money, despite his father's insistence that Aden give every penny to him as recompense for putting a roof over his head and meals in his stomach. But it wasn't his father who had built the beehives, or tended to them, or collected and packaged the honey, or read dozens of books from the library on pollination and gardening. His father was too busy. Too important.

Aden would never say such a thing to the man's face. He was the bishop, and he had been since his family and five others had moved to Birch Creek a little over twenty-five years ago. Aden was born here, but his parents were from Holmes County. Over the years their small community had grown to twenty families, all under Emmanuel Troyer's watchful, and outwardly caring, eye. Aden had a difficult time understanding how a man who was so revered and respected by the rest of the community could be so hard and unyielding to his own son.

He was old enough to leave. He could strike out on his own and make a decent living raising bees and selling honey and other hive by-products. But he wouldn't leave his mother here with his father and Sol. As long as Aden stayed, he would be the one to bear the burden of Sol's temper and his father's derision. Neither his father nor his brother had ever turned on Mamm, but Aden didn't want to risk the chance of that happening if he weren't here.

He sighed and opened the envelope that held almost three hundred dollars. He took out fifty, put the envelope back, and pulled out a small metal box from under his bed. He put the fifty dollars inside and shoved the box back until he heard it hit the wall. His father trusted Aden to be honest, and in almost every aspect of his life Aden was. But he had to have something for himself. He needed the security the money he set aside without his father's knowledge gave him. He couldn't convince himself that withholding some of the money he'd earned was a sin, not when his father demanded everything from Aden — even when Aden's everything wasn't close to good enough.

He stood, brushed off his black pants, took a deep breath, and went downstairs.

* * *

Sadie really didn't want to be here.

She stood in the corner of the Troyers' basement, which seemed so similar to her parents'— gray cement f loor, cinder block walls, and a small horizontal window at the top of the back wall to let in a bit of light. There were several gas lamps in the room, which gave adequate lighting. Sadie held a red plastic cup filled with apple cider and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. She kept her eye out for Sol, who fortunately hadn't shown up. Still, she had to stay on guard.

"Sadie," Abigail muttered, "stop looking like you've got tacks in yer shoes."


(Continues...)

Excerpted from A Reluctant Bride by Kathleen Fuller. Copyright © 2015 Kathleen Fuller. Excerpted by permission of Thomas Nelson.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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