Abiding Mercy Read online

  ACCLAIM FOR RUTH REID

  “A heartfelt novel.”

  — RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4 STARS ON A DREAM OF MIRACLES

  “Reid’s second series installment (after A Miracle of Hope) works well as a tender romance with a bit of suspense. A solid pick for fans of Beverly Lewis and Melody Carlson.”

  — LIBRARY JOURNAL ON A WOODLAND MIRACLE

  “Ruth Reid is skillful in portraying the Amish way of life as well as weaving together miracles with the everyday. In this book, she writes a beautiful tale of romance, redemption, and faith.”

  —BETH WISEMAN, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF THE DAUGHTERS OF THE PROMISE SERIES, ON A MIRACLE OF HOPE

  “Ruth Reid pens a touching story of grace, love, and God’s mercy in the midst of uncertainty. A must-read for Amish fiction fans!”

  —KATHLEEN FULLER, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF THE HEARTS OF MIDDLEFIELD SERIES, ON A MIRACLE OF HOPE

  “Reid gives readers the hope to believe that there are angels with every one of us, both good and evil, and that the good angels will always win.”

  — RT BOOK REVIEWS ON AN ANGEL BY HER SIDE

  “An Angel by Her Side brings together not only a protagonist’s inner struggle, but the effect on the character from outside forces. In short, the reader rises, falls, grows, and learns alongside the story’s champion.”

  — AMISH COUNTRY NEWS REVIEW

  “Reid has written a fine novel that provides, as its series title claims, a bit of ‘heaven on earth.’”

  — PUBLISHERS WEEKLY ON THE PROMISE OF AN ANGEL

  “If The Promise of an Angel is anything to judge by, it looks like she’s going to become a favorite amongst Amish fans.”

  —THE CHRISTIAN MANIFESTO

  “Ruth Reid captivates with a powerful new voice and vision.”

  —KELLY LONG, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF SARAH’S GARDEN AND LILLY’S WEDDING QUILT

  “Ruth Reid’s The Promise of an Angel is a beautiful story of faith, hope, and second chances. It will captivate fans of Amish fiction and readers who love an endearing romance.”

  —AMY CLIPSTON, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF THE HEARTS OF THE LANCASTER GRAND HOTEL AND THE KAUFFMAN AMISH BAKERY SERIES

  OTHER BOOKS BY RUTH REID

  THE AMISH WONDERS NOVELS

  A Miracle of Hope

  A Woodland Miracle

  A Dream of Miracles

  THE HEAVEN ON EARTH NOVELS

  The Promise of an Angel

  Brush of Angel’s Wings

  An Angel by Her Side

  NOVELLAS

  Her Christmas Pen Pal in An Amish Second Christmas

  Always His Providence in An Amish Miracle

  An Unexpected Joy in An Amish Christmas Gift

  A Flicker of Hope in An Amish Home

  Home for Christmas in An Amish Christmas

  Love – Available November 2017

  Abiding Mercy

  © 2017 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.

  Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fundraising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version. Public domain. Scripture quotations are also taken from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations are also taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.TM 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.TM

  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.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Reid, Ruth, 1963- author.

  Title: Abiding Mercy / Ruth Reid.

  Description: Nashville, Tennessee: Thomas Nelson, [2017] | Series: An Amish mercies novel ; 1

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017002677 | ISBN 9780718082444 (paperback)

  Epub Edition May 2017 ISBN 9780718082451

  Subjects: LCSH: Amish--Fiction. | GSAFD: Christian fiction. | Love stories.

  Classification: LCC PS3618.E5475 A64 2017 | DDC 813/.6--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017002677

  Printed in the United States of America

  17 18 19 20 21 LSC 5 4 3 2 1

  This book is dedicated to my beautiful Chrisla-Faith. I pray that you follow the calling God places on your heart, but that you never stop believing or looking to God for His direction.

  I love you, Sarah.

  Love, Mom

  Contents

  Glossary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Acknowledgments

  Discussion Questions

  About the Author

  Glossary

  ach: oh

  aenti: aunt

  boppli: baby

  bruder: brother

  bu: boy

  daadi: grandfather

  daed: dad or father

  danki: thank you

  doktah: doctor

  “Das Loblied”: an Amish hymn

  Englischer: anyone who is not Amish

  fraa: wife

  geh: go

  guder mariye: good morning

  gut: good

  haus: house

  hiya: a greeting like hello

  jah: yes

  kaffi: coffee

  kalt: cold

  kapp: a prayer covering worn by Amish women

  kinner: children

  kumm: come

  lecherich: ridiculous

  maedel/maed: unmarried woman/women

  mamm/mamma: mother or mom

  mei: my

  nacht: night

  narrish: crazy

  nau: now

  nay: no

  nett: not

  Ordnung: the written and unwritten rules of the Amish; the understood behavior by which the Amish are
expected to live, passed down from generation to generation. Most Amish know the rules by heart.

  Pennsylvania Deitsch: the language most commonly used by the Amish

  reddy-up: clean up

  rumschpringe: running-around period when a teenager turns sixteen years old

  schweschaler: sister

  yummasetti: a traditional Amish dish made with noodles, hamburger, and cheese

  washhaus: an outdoor laundry shed

  welkum: welcome

  wunderbaar: wonderful

  Chapter 1

  Bloomfield Hills, Michigan

  Fifteen years ago

  Roslyn Colepepper shuttled her eighteen-month-old daughter, Adriana, through the produce section of the Best Choice Market, the cart wheels clacking. Her daughter didn’t seem to mind the thumping, unbalanced ride, but the noise was a nuisance to Roslyn and, judging by the snippy glances from nearby patrons, to others as well. She contemplated exchanging carts at the front of the store, but if she walked near the exit, she would be tempted just to leave. Doing so would put a crimp in her schedule. Her dinner guests would arrive at six only to find her unprepared, which wouldn’t bode well in her vie for the president position in the Bloomfield Hills Women’s Republican Club.

  Her husband had been right. Instead of stressing over meal preparations, she should have arranged a catering service. After all, her housekeeper had always handled the details. Roslyn would simply choose the menu and leave the rest to Georgette, who kept the butler’s pantry stocked with organic fruit, vegetables, and every soy product imaginable. Georgette’s culinary skills went beyond the typical housekeeper’s talent, which made it impossible to replace her when she requested a leave of absence to care for her sick grandmother.

  The last girl the temp agency sent fell short. The maid purchased substandard food and ended up pocketing the allotted funds. Of course the girl denied the charges, leaving Roslyn no choice but to dismiss her immediately. Now here she was pushing a malfunctioning shopping cart down the produce aisle when she should be at home preparing for her guests.

  Roslyn stopped the buggy in front of the green beans and inspected them for freshness. As she placed a handful in a clear baggy, Adriana leaned sideways in the cart, stretching her little fingers toward the bin of Brussels sprouts.

  “You’re too young for those, darling. Mommy doesn’t want you to choke.” She pushed the cart forward.

  Adriana’s round face puckered. “Mine.”

  “No, sweetie.”

  Tears welled in the child’s light-blue eyes, then Adriana let out a curdling cry that caused several nearby patrons to look their way.

  “Hush now,” Roslyn whispered. “You’re causing a scene.” She smiled at the red-haired man stocking heads of cabbage in the case. This was why she dreaded taking Adriana anywhere without her nanny. Unfortunately, Brittany had come down with something and Roslyn had no choice but to dismiss her for the day. After all, she couldn’t have Adriana exposed to those germs. Roslyn’s leniency with the staff had forced her to cancel her nail appointment and reschedule the masseuse. What good was having a live-in nanny if she always had the sniffles?

  While she was thinking about it, Roslyn stopped the cart and riffled through her handbag. Locating her PalmPilot, she tapped a note. Call agency for a replacement nanny. Arrange interviews for a permanent housekeeper starting next week. Her thoughts ricocheted a dozen directions. It’d be easier to use her cell phone to call the house and leave a detailed message on the answering machine. She needed a personal assistant. And one of those new BlackBerrys she’d heard so much about. Something sticky touched her forearm. “No—no, Adriana. Put the berries down.”

  Adriana jammed a pudgy fistful of raspberries into her mouth, dribbling juice down her chin and staining her pink flowered dress. A half second later, her mouth dropped open and she began pawing berries off her tongue. Managing to rid her mouth of the undesired fruit, she lifted her arms. “Up.”

  Oh no. Not until you’re cleaned up. Roslyn had spent a small fortune in New York on her silk blouse, and she wasn’t about to let dirty hands stain it. The same held true for the Jaguar. Sticky fingers would destroy the ’63 vintage cream leather interior. Granddaddy would turn in his grave if she didn’t keep the car in its original state of glory.

  Roslyn rummaged through her purse for the package of antiseptic wipes she’d used earlier to clean the shopping cart. Adriana squirmed, not liking her face wiped. Even after removing the raspberry residue, her daughter’s mouth and lips remained red. The same bright-red shade she’d turned after eating strawberries earlier in the year—an allergic reaction that had terrified Roslyn. Mental note: no raspberries.

  Roslyn wiped Adriana’s neck and hands, then worked on the front of the dress, although it was already ruined. To ease the child’s distress, she removed a box of animal crackers from the shelf, opened the package, and offered her one. Her daughter’s crocodile tears evaporated quickly and, at least for the moment, she seemed content. Roslyn used the opportunity to finish shopping while still monitoring Adriana’s face for any sign of hives. Within a short time, she conquered the store one aisle at a time, filling the cart with the items on her list plus a few extras.

  Adriana’s eyes closed and her head nodded only to startle herself awake. Roslyn glanced at her watch. Noon. No wonder everything looked good. She’d fed Adriana breakfast this morning but neglected to eat anything herself.

  “I know you’re tired, darling. We’re going home now.” Roslyn headed to the checkout.

  The store wasn’t that busy for a Thursday, but with only one register open, the time crawled standing in line. Another reason not to shop here when her schedule was already full. She tapped her fingers on the cart handle as the person ahead of her insisted the almond milk had wrung up at the wrong price. Roslyn called the house and dialed the code to retrieve the messages on the answering machine while the price was verified and the correction made. A twenty-cent difference cost them almost five minutes. As the clerk rang up Roslyn’s items, she didn’t bother watching the prices. A handful of pocket change wasn’t worth arguing over. Her focus was divided between getting Adriana down for a nap, getting dinner started, and jotting down some key ideas for the upcoming fundraising gala.

  The strong autumn breeze made her wish she hadn’t been concerned with someone dinging her car door, which prompted her to park in the farthest open space from the store. Roslyn hurried across the parking lot, steadied the cart next to the car without it touching the paint, then opened the trunk. As she went to grab a grocery bag, she noticed Adriana holding her hand over her ear. The poor child was prone to ear infections and had been to the pediatrician only last week. High wind exposure would most likely result in another clinic visit and more antibiotics. Roslyn unfastened the safety strap around Adriana’s waist and took her out of the cart. Her daughter’s eyes closed the moment Roslyn fastened her into the car seat. Not wanting to run the risk of Adriana catching a cold, Roslyn slipped behind the wheel, started the engine, and adjusted the heat to its highest level. With her daughter situated, she went back outside to load the groceries.

  Refrigerated and freezer items on the right side, nonperishables on the left. She leaned over the shopping cart to retrieve the case of bottled water and something struck the back of her head. Her mind not fully registering what had just happened, she took a step back, but another blow darkened her surroundings and she hit the pavement.

  Chapter 2

  Posen, Michigan

  Present day

  Faith Pinkham peeked through the round window separating the kitchen from the eating area of The Amish Table and cringed at the large lunch crowd. Many of the tables hadn’t been cleared since the breakfast surge and her older sister, Olivia, had her hands full taking new orders. Faith glanced over her shoulder at the pot of broccoli-and-cheese soup simmering on the stove. If she hurried, she could clean off a few tables before Olivia turned in the next order. Wiping her hands on her apron, she
pushed the swinging double doors open with her hip.

  Mrs. Meyer, one of their regular customers, shot up a quick wave from a back table. The retiree from downstate had bought a house on a nearby acre lot two years ago and had been busy planting gardens ever since. When it came to growing tea roses, Faith had never known anyone to have a green thumb like Mrs. Meyer. Tea roses are tender and prone to disease, but her bushes were lively and massive and fragrant.

  Faith strode to the back of the dining area and stopped at the garden lady’s table to say a quick hello before cleaning off the empty table next to Mrs. Meyer. “How are you today?”

  “Doing just peachy, sweetie. Do they have you working in the kitchen?”

  “Jah, I’m cooking.” And cleaning tables.

  “You poor thing. It must be blazing hot over the stove.” She added a splash of cream to her coffee.

  Faith smiled. The large fans in the kitchen helped exhaust the heat, but on days like today, she looked forward to soaking her feet in the creek after work. She stepped to the recently vacated table next to the window and began stacking dirty plates. Olivia had grabbed the tip off the table without taking any of the dishes away.

  Mrs. Meyer stirred her coffee. “Are you doing anything special for the Fourth of July?”

  “You mean other than work?” Faith chuckled. “Probably nett.” The Amish only celebrated Thanksgiving, Christmas, Second Christmas, and Easter, but not many Englischers knew that.

  Mrs. Meyer had an inquisitive soul. Since moving to northern Michigan, she’d shown more interest in the Amish lifestyle than most people who lived in Posen all their lives. Although Faith didn’t mind answering the friendly woman’s questions, she didn’t volunteer anything more. If Mrs. Meyer knew about Faith starting baptism classes, she would have a slew of questions. Questions Faith wouldn’t feel comfortable answering.

  Faith repositioned the chairs. She would come back to wash the table, restock the condiments, and replace the paper place mats and napkin-wrapped utensils. She glanced at Mrs. Meyer sipping her coffee. “Can I get you anything? More coffee?”

  “I have everything I need, sweetie.”

  “New order,” Olivia announced, waving the carbon-copied slip on her way into the kitchen as if it were a flag.