Read Online Rosemary Opens Her Heart: Home at Cedar Creek, Book Two by Naomi King - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Naomi King
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over
him
today? After the wedding ceremony, Abby had told James he was a fine man for accepting
the way Zanna—originally
his
intended bride—had married Jonny Ropp instead. She had been holding Zanna’s baby
to her shoulder, and he had blurted out that Abby surely must be made of love and
sunshine, like little Harley.
What had possessed him to say such a thing? He had seen Abby holding each of Sam’s
four kids when they were babies, so what was different about the way she cradled Zanna’s
infant son?
Didn’t you, just for a moment, imagine Abby was holding her own firstborn? And didn’t
you, just for a moment, put yourself in the role of that child’s father…Abby’s husband?
Now, hours later, such thoughts seemed risky. While it was the right thing to move
beyond Zanna’s rejection, that didn’t mean he was ready to court another woman. He
had loved Zanna with all his heart. He had believed she was the woman God had chosen
for him. A man didn’t recover from such a deep personal wound in days or even weeks.
Lately, James had even been wondering if God intended for him to remain single—to
assist Emma with the care of their parents so perhaps
she
would have the chance to marry.
And yet, as James watched Abby coming down Lambright Lane, it wasn’t hard to imagine
the possibility of spending more time with her. After all, hadn’t Jonny Ropp informed
him last fall that Abby had been sweet on him ever since they’d been scholars coming
up through the grades in school? He had been surprised that other folks had noticed
her feelings for him, too…and how could it be a bad thing, if she felt attracted to
him? Abby was the picture of solid, honorable Amish womanhood, yet as she approached
him her lips twitched with the same playful grin he recalled from when they were in
their teens.
“I didn’t mean to head the other way when Jonny called our names,” Abby said in her
lilting voice. “I had an armload of dirty pie plates and a young mother wanting to
put her fussy child down for a nap in my guest room.” She stopped a few feet in front
of him, clasping her hands at her waist, looking at him in that direct way she had.
Could Abby read his thoughts? Did she have any inkling of how vulnerable and confused
he felt right now where women were concerned?
On such a happy occasion, it seemed better to go with Abby’s lightheartedness than
to dwell on his misgivings. “The way these girls tell it,” James teased, “you kept
back the best cherry pie to eat all by yourself, rather than come to the table with
me.”
Abby’s eyes widened as she laughed along with Ruthie and Beth Ann, and then her expression
softened. “If a woman chooses to eat dessert all by herself rather than join a fellow
for supper, well…she’smissing out on one of the sweetest parts of a meal—or of a wedding celebration.”
Abby looked again at the girls, who were following this conversation closely for signs
of—what? Romance? Wasn’t that on most young ladies’ minds at a wedding? “I did save
back the most wonderful-gut cherry pie,” she continued with a straight face, “but
while you two girls have been carrying tales to James, your dats have probably gobbled
it all down. Too bad for you!”
Ruthie’s face fell, but then she chuckled. “Come on, Beth Ann. I think Aunt Abby’s
fibbing about setting a pie back, but it couldn’t hurt to find out before Dat does.”
“Jah, my dat gets Rosemary’s pies all the time, but he’s always ready for a piece
of somebody else’s,” Beth Ann replied. “Let’s go!”
As the two girls hurried toward the house, James nodded toward the guests who were
entering the greenhouse. “Shall we show the rest of them how this is done?” he asked.
“I almost joined my parents for a bite in the kitchen—figured I was too old to be
in on the matchmaking. As I looked around at the crowd of Jonny’s and Zanna’s
him
today? After the wedding ceremony, Abby had told James he was a fine man for accepting
the way Zanna—originally
his
intended bride—had married Jonny Ropp instead. She had been holding Zanna’s baby
to her shoulder, and he had blurted out that Abby surely must be made of love and
sunshine, like little Harley.
What had possessed him to say such a thing? He had seen Abby holding each of Sam’s
four kids when they were babies, so what was different about the way she cradled Zanna’s
infant son?
Didn’t you, just for a moment, imagine Abby was holding her own firstborn? And didn’t
you, just for a moment, put yourself in the role of that child’s father…Abby’s husband?
Now, hours later, such thoughts seemed risky. While it was the right thing to move
beyond Zanna’s rejection, that didn’t mean he was ready to court another woman. He
had loved Zanna with all his heart. He had believed she was the woman God had chosen
for him. A man didn’t recover from such a deep personal wound in days or even weeks.
Lately, James had even been wondering if God intended for him to remain single—to
assist Emma with the care of their parents so perhaps
she
would have the chance to marry.
And yet, as James watched Abby coming down Lambright Lane, it wasn’t hard to imagine
the possibility of spending more time with her. After all, hadn’t Jonny Ropp informed
him last fall that Abby had been sweet on him ever since they’d been scholars coming
up through the grades in school? He had been surprised that other folks had noticed
her feelings for him, too…and how could it be a bad thing, if she felt attracted to
him? Abby was the picture of solid, honorable Amish womanhood, yet as she approached
him her lips twitched with the same playful grin he recalled from when they were in
their teens.
“I didn’t mean to head the other way when Jonny called our names,” Abby said in her
lilting voice. “I had an armload of dirty pie plates and a young mother wanting to
put her fussy child down for a nap in my guest room.” She stopped a few feet in front
of him, clasping her hands at her waist, looking at him in that direct way she had.
Could Abby read his thoughts? Did she have any inkling of how vulnerable and confused
he felt right now where women were concerned?
On such a happy occasion, it seemed better to go with Abby’s lightheartedness than
to dwell on his misgivings. “The way these girls tell it,” James teased, “you kept
back the best cherry pie to eat all by yourself, rather than come to the table with
me.”
Abby’s eyes widened as she laughed along with Ruthie and Beth Ann, and then her expression
softened. “If a woman chooses to eat dessert all by herself rather than join a fellow
for supper, well…she’smissing out on one of the sweetest parts of a meal—or of a wedding celebration.”
Abby looked again at the girls, who were following this conversation closely for signs
of—what? Romance? Wasn’t that on most young ladies’ minds at a wedding? “I did save
back the most wonderful-gut cherry pie,” she continued with a straight face, “but
while you two girls have been carrying tales to James, your dats have probably gobbled
it all down. Too bad for you!”
Ruthie’s face fell, but then she chuckled. “Come on, Beth Ann. I think Aunt Abby’s
fibbing about setting a pie back, but it couldn’t hurt to find out before Dat does.”
“Jah, my dat gets Rosemary’s pies all the time, but he’s always ready for a piece
of somebody else’s,” Beth Ann replied. “Let’s go!”
As the two girls hurried toward the house, James nodded toward the guests who were
entering the greenhouse. “Shall we show the rest of them how this is done?” he asked.
“I almost joined my parents for a bite in the kitchen—figured I was too old to be
in on the matchmaking. As I looked around at the crowd of Jonny’s and Zanna’s
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