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  A Miracle of Hope © 2013 by Ruth Reid

  A Woodland Miracle © 2014 by Ruth Reid

  A Dream of Miracles © 2016 by Ruth Reid

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

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  Scripture quotations are taken from the New King James Version®. © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. And from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  A Miracle of Hope eBook Edition ISBN: 978-1-4016-8832-5

  A Woodland Miracle eBook Edition ISBN: 978-1-4016-8833-2

  A Dream of Miracles eBook Edition ISBN: 978-1-4016-8834-9

  e-collection ISBN: 978-0-7180-8434-9

  CIP data is available upon request.

  Contents

  A Miracle of Hope

  Glossary

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  A Woodland Miracle

  Glossary

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  A Dream of Miracles

  Glossary

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Discussion Questions

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  A Miracle of Hope is dedicated to my brother, Paul Droste. Anytime I write about woodstoves or cutting wood, I can’t help but recall the winter you moved in with me. I couldn’t seem to get the woodstove to hold a fire or keep the pipes from freezing. Then you arrived and cut a different wood to burn. It was so hot inside the house I had to open the windows to get air. I love you! (Oh, and I’m sorry you came back from Colorado to learn I had sold your car for $15.)

  Glossary

  ach: oh

  aemen: amen

  boppli: baby

  bruder: brother

  bu: boy

  daed: dad or father

  denki: thank you

  dochder: daughter

  doktah: doctor

  dummkopp: dummy

  Englischer: anyone who is not Amish

  fraa: wife

  greenhaus: greenhouse

  grossdaadi haus: a second house on the property where the grandparents live

  grossdaadi: grandfather

  guder mariye: good morning

  gut nacht: good night

  gut: good

  hiya: a greeting like hello

  icehaus: ice house, where food is kept frozen

  jah: yes

  kaffi: coffee

  kalt: cold

  kapp: a prayer covering worn by women

  kinner: children

  kumm: come

  mamm: mother or mom

  mammi: grandmother

  maydel: girl

  mei: my

  nau: now

  nay: no

  nett: not

  onkel: uncle

  redd-up: straighten

  Schtecklimann: a go-between; someone who acts as a messenger when a man wants to seek approval from a woman’s parents for their daughter’s hand in marriage

  schul: school

  sohn: son

  wedder: weather

  wilkom: welcome

  wunderbaar: wonderful

  yummasetti: a traditional Amish dish made with ground beef and noodles

  Chapter One

  I promise my name—not my heart.

  Lindie Wyse recalled the words in Josiah’s letter that detailed the terms. Not that it mattered what the ma
rital arrangements were. As her older brother, Eli, had pointed out, she couldn’t possibly expect more. All she had to offer any man was a marred life.

  Eli leaned closer. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, repeating what he had said shortly after they boarded the bus last evening. Several hours later his tone still lacked certainty. “Cedar Ridge is a smaller district than ours. I think you’ll like the people.” He paused briefly, then continued when she failed to respond. “I met many of the members at Caroline Plank’s funeral. Josiah was out of sorts coping with his fraa’s unexpected death . . .” His voice droned on, sounding like a far-off woodpecker hammering away on a rotting tree trunk. “The winters are longer than ours. You did pack your wool socks, jah?”

  Lindie nodded mechanically, a trait she’d only recently acquired. She lent an ear but remained silent. She hoped her brother’s assumptions were right. Eli had hardly mentioned Josiah Plank in the three years since his wife’s death. It wasn’t until her brother returned last month from what he called “a business trip” that he spoke about his childhood friend again. When Eli and his wife, Margaret, talked about Josiah, it was as if they were trying to set Lindie up on a pen-pal courtship. She discovered a few short weeks later that they were arranging much more than a distant courtship. They were setting her up for marriage.

  Over the past few months, Lindie had carried the weight of the members’ scornful stares. Nothing had hurt worse than when Moses, the man she loved, rejected her, or when his sister, Mary, openly rebuked her. Even after Lindie knelt in confession, the church members’ estrangement continued. So did the gossip. She was plagued with nightmares and shrouded in shame. Her life would never be the same, yet the looming question wouldn’t be pushed aside.

  Could God’s mercy extend far enough to reach her?

  Daylight crept over the horizon. She leaned forward to peer through the window. Since the majority of their travel had been during the night, she’d missed the change of scenery. Northern Michigan had plenty of trees. Snow too. The farther north they traveled on I-75, the more a snow-covered roadside replaced the brown carpet of grass. She sank back against the vinyl bus seat, pulled her cape tighter against her neck, and watched as the landscape passed in a blur.

  A few hours later the bus rattled over the steel grates on the Mackinac Bridge and Lindie’s thoughts returned to their approaching destination. She’d overheard some of the other passengers chatting about the Great Lakes, but she hadn’t envisioned anything so vast as these open waters. Her settlement was near lakes, but nothing as massive as the Straits of Mackinac. As they reached the end of the bridge, entering the Upper Peninsula, she craned her neck for a full view. The extensive distance that now separated her from her family took root in her mind.

  Her stomach curdled at the thought. She lifted one hand to cover her mouth, held her belly with the other, and willed herself not to vomit. A moment later the queasiness subsided. She leaned her forehead against the cold, damp window and closed her eyes. She wished she was moving so far away for another reason—any other reason—than to escape her old life. Pride goes before destruction. The scripture in Proverbs was true. Only she never expected one bad decision would lead to such a hard fall.

  “It won’t be much longer nau,” Eli said, then added, “Are you all right?”

  She didn’t risk responding. Even the motion of a slight nod might aggravate her stomach. She certainly didn’t want to be covered in vomit when she met her soon-to-be husband for the first time.

  Josiah Plank took a seat on an empty bus station bench. He propped his elbows on his knees, then buried his face in his hands. None of this seemed real. It certainly didn’t seem right. Agreeing to marry a woman he knew little about was crazy. Normally he’d weigh the cost. This just proved how unstable he’d become since Caroline died.

  She didn’t know him either, other than from things Eli might have said.

  She . . . He drew a blank on her name. Perhaps his lapse in memory was a sign. Eli’s little sister was just a kid, maybe ten, when he saw her last. Their Ohio settlements were too far apart to belong to the same church district, so their families weren’t close. Even since he’d moved to Cedar Ridge, contact with his friend had been sporadic. Eli had made the trip for Caroline’s funeral, but they’d talked about the lumber business, and nothing about either of Eli’s sisters.

  He didn’t want to embarrass himself or the girl by stumbling over her name when he introduced her to the bishop. Josiah dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the letter he’d received two days ago. He scanned down to the bottom of the page. Lindie.

  “Lindie Rose Wyse.” Fire rose from his stomach and shot up the back of his throat. He stood. He needed to find a drinking fountain.

  He jammed the folded letter into his pocket, his fingers touching loose cash. He pulled out the money and made a quick count. Enough to purchase a return bus fare. He shoved the money back into his pocket and went in search of water.

  Jah, he owed her that much for coming to his senses. She would be glad he did too. She, there he went again. “It’s Lindie,” he said to himself as he pressed the fountain lever and bent to take a drink.

  Behind him, a bus squealed to a halt, its compressed air brakes hissing before the door opened. He studied each passenger as they disembarked. The area crowded with newcomers and a hum of greetings spread among the people. Josiah inched forward. Perhaps she’d changed her mind.

  He glimpsed a woman in an Amish dress stepping off the bus. His breath caught. Eli had given an accurate description of his sister: early twenties, small frame, average height, and bright-red hair. He shook his head. What Eli hadn’t told him was that she was beautiful. With those features, she would have distracted every unmarried man in her district. So why had Eli asked Josiah to marry her?

  Eli exited the bus next, reached for his sister’s elbow, and guided her toward the building. It only took a moment before Eli’s hand shot up in a quick wave.

  Josiah swallowed hard. He wasn’t ready for this, but he weaved through the crowd in their direction anyway.

  “Gut to see you, Josiah.”

  Eli extended his hand and Josiah shook it. “Jah, you too.”

  “This is mei sister Lindie.” Eli nudged her shoulder.

  “Hello.” Her voice barely reached a whisper. She kept her head lowered and slightly lifted her eyes to meet his, but the moment she did, she glanced away.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” He turned to Eli. “Was your trip gut?” Small talk. He hated every minute.

  “It was a long ride, ain’t so, Lindie?” Eli nudged his sister but didn’t receive a response. He readdressed Josiah. “The wedder is much colder up here. Across the Ohio state line, we still have leaves on the trees.”

  “We had a few flurries last night.” He lifted his gaze to the cloudy sky. “We’ll probably have another snowfall tonight.” That wasn’t unusual for November.

  Eli shifted his feet. “So what time is the bishop expecting us?”

  A raspy noise, something between a cough and a gasp, escaped Lindie’s mouth, but she continued to look down.

  Josiah hadn’t anticipated Eli rushing the wedding when they had only just made introductions. He took a moment to settle the quiver in the back of his throat. “He’s probably expecting us anytime nau.” He wished Lindie would speak up. Josiah cleared his throat. “Lindie,” he said, hoping she would look him in the eye. She didn’t. “The bishop will wish to speak with you first.” Unless you say something and we end this now.

  She nodded.

  “If it’s okay, Eli, I would like to talk with her alone,” Josiah said.

  “I’ll get her packages.”

  She jerked up her head. Her blue-like-Lake-Superior eyes watched her brother, while Josiah tried to count the tiny freckles sprinkled across her nose.

  “It’s okay,” Eli said to his sister. He waited a moment, then joined the throng of people waiting to claim their bags.

  Josiah motioned to a bench i
n a less crowded area. “Let’s sit.”

  She hesitated, peered over her shoulder in Eli’s direction, then, with her head lowered, shuffled to the far side of the concrete bench.

  He sat on the opposite end. The space between them might indicate they weren’t a couple suited for one another. Josiah twiddled his thumbs, not sure where to begin. “You got mei letter, jah?”

  She nodded.

  Of course she had. He’d received a note stating she understood and accepted his terms, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he heard it straight from her. For all he knew, Eli might have responded on his sister’s behalf.

  “You probably know Eli’s fraa and my fraa were second cousins. The four of us attended many of the same weddings and became friends. After I got married, mei fraa and I moved up here with her family to start a lumber mill.” He paused, unsure why he was telling her this. If it was to ease his guilt for entering into an agreement he now wanted out of, it wasn’t working. “I met you once . . . I think you might have been ten. Do you remember?”

  Lindie shook her head and a red spiral curl fell out from under her kapp. The loose hair dangled in front of her face. Her teeth chattered and white breaths escaped her mouth. She burrowed deeper into her cape.

  The midmorning sun shimmered on the red ringlet. He forced himself to focus on his boots.

  “I’m nett going to ask what kind of trouble you were in. Your bruder believes you need a fresh start . . . But I’m thirty-two. At least ten years older than you. Why are you willing to marry me under my stringent conditions?”

  She looked him straight in the eye. But before she spoke, the pinkish color drained from her face. She covered her mouth and bolted to a trash can a few feet away.

  He stood, pulled a hankie from his pocket, and walked up beside her. When Eli had hinted of his sister’s disgrace, Josiah had assumed the unthinkable and stopped Eli before he could share details. Her failure to come home one night led to repentance and that was what mattered. She finished vomiting and he handed her the cotton cloth.

  “Denki.” She wiped her mouth.

  “There’s a drinking fountain over there.” He motioned to the side of the building and she hurried in that direction.

  Josiah scanned the thinning crowd for Eli. He stood beside four reused apple boxes all tied closed with twine. If he noticed that his sister was sick, Eli didn’t appear worried.