The Nanny's Amish Family (Redemption's Amish Legacies Book 1) Read online

  They need her help. She needs them...

  An Amish bachelor. A motherless child.

  Can she turn them into a real family?

  Schoolteacher Patience Flaud longs for a family of her own—but knows it can never happen. At least she can help Amish bachelor Thomas Wiebe with his small Englisher daughter. As she settles the child into Amish life, Patience begins falling for the bewildered new father and his heartbroken little girl. But is love enough to make them a permanent family?

  “I don’t know anything about Englisher children...”

  Thomas smiled sadly. “Me neither.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Patience said.

  “I’d hoped to make a Plain girl of her faster than this,” he admitted ruefully. “But God teaches patience with children. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “It is.” She smiled. “And I’m about to have a whole schoolhouse full of them, so maybe you should feel grateful for just one.”

  Thomas cracked a smile then, and laughed softly. “Maybe I should.” He jutted his chin toward the door. “I’m going to go hitch up the buggy.”

  Patience watched as he headed out the side door, and she put a hand over her pattering heart. She wasn’t blind to his broad shoulders and warm smile—it would be easier if she were, because it wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry...she did. But she was going to be a disappointment to whoever tried to court her.

  Patience was a teacher and a helpful neighbor. Nothing else. She’d best remember it. Strong hands and broad shoulders didn’t change that she wasn’t the wife for Thomas.

  Patricia Johns writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Love Inspired and Heartwarming lines. You can find her at patriciajohnsromance.com.

  Books by Patricia Johns

  Love Inspired

  Redemption’s Amish Legacies

  The Nanny’s Amish Family

  Montana Twins

  Her Cowboy’s Twin Blessings

  Her Twins’ Cowboy Dad

  A Rancher to Remember

  Comfort Creek Lawmen

  Deputy Daddy

  The Lawman’s Runaway Bride

  The Deputy’s Unexpected Family

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  The Second Chance Club

  Their Mountain Reunion

  Home to Eagle’s Rest

  Her Lawman Protector

  Falling for the Cowboy Dad

  The Lawman’s Baby

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  THE NANNY’S AMISH FAMILY

  Patricia Johns

  A father of the fatherless...

  God setteth the solitary in families.

  —Psalm 68:5–6

  To my husband—

  you’re the best choice I ever made! I love you.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Starting Over in Texas by Jessica Keller

  Chapter One

  Thomas Wiebe pushed himself to his feet and headed toward the side door to look out at the warm August evening. Low, golden sunlight washed over the grass, and birds twittered their evening songs. His jittery nerves didn’t match the peaceful scene. The social services agent who had come by the night before had said that they’d be here by seven, and it was a quarter past already.

  “Stop fussing, Thomas,” Mammi said, pulling a boiling kettle from the woodstove. Her crisp, white kapp was a shade brighter than her white hair. “She’ll come.”

  Thomas glanced back at his family in the kitchen. They weren’t all blood relatives, but this was as close to family as he had left in the community of Redemption, Pennsylvania. His older brother, Noah, sat with a glass of lemonade in front of him, his straw hat on the table. Thomas and Noah were both old enough to be married with families of their own by now, but not having found the right wife meant that they stayed here with Uncle Amos—an honorary uncle, not a biological one—and his elderly grandmother. It was a house filled with men, as Mammi described it.

  And any minute now, Thomas’s daughter would be joining them... His daughter. He’d known about her, but he’d never been given the option to be in her life. Thomas had made a mistake with an Englisher girl on his lengthy Rumspringa, and the breakup had been messy. Tina wanted nothing more to do with him. It wasn’t that he forgot about his daughter, but he’d accepted that heartbreak as part of the consequences for his mistakes. Coming back home to Redemption four years ago was supposed to be his new start. But when a social services agent came to his house last night and told him of a fatal car accident that killed his daughter’s mother, everything had changed.

  His daughter, Rue, was now coming to live with him after never having met him even once in her young life. Would she hate him just a little? He wouldn’t blame her. But at the age of four, he wasn’t sure how much she’d even understand about her new situation.

  Outside, a car rumbled up the drive, and Thomas pulled open the screen door and stepped out onto the raised patio next to the house. A clothesline full of men’s pants and shirts flapped in a warm breeze.

  Thomas waited while the car stopped, the door opened and the social services agent from yesterday got out. She shot Thomas a smile and waved. She was an older woman, plump and pleasant. Tanya Davis, she’d said.

  “Good evening, Mr. Wiebe!” Tanya called.

  Thomas would do just fine, but he didn’t trust himself to speak just yet. He came down the steps toward the car and glanced back to see Noah and Amos in the door. Tanya opened the back door to the car and leaned in, undoing the buckles from a children’s car seat. Then she backed out again, followed by a small, frail child.

  The little girl stood there, a teddy bear clutched in front of her. She wore a pair of pink pants and a ruffled purple T-shirt. Her hair was stringy and blond, and she looked around herself with large, frightened blue eyes. She reminded him of a bedraggled bird.

  Thomas came closer, unsure if he’d scare her or not.

  “Hello,” he said in English. He wasn’t very eloquent in English... But then he wasn’t very eloquent in German, either.

  The little girl looked at him, silent.

  “I’m your daet, it would seem,” he said slowly. Then he realized she might not know the word. “I’m your...father.”

  “Hello, Mr. Wiebe.” Tanya held out a hand and Thomas shook it. “Shall we go inside? Maybe you’re hungry, Rue,” Tanya said quietly, smiling down at the girl, then glancing up at Thomas.

  “Yes, Mammi has made some sticky buns. She thought you might like that,” Thomas said.

  He turned around and led the way to the house, feeling that strange distance between himself and that little girl behind him. Rue had never met him, but he’d also never had a chance to even see her... He’d been a daet, but until this very moment, it had been theoretical. How was he supposed to do this—be a daet to an Englisher child? There was a time he thou
ght he could be an Englisher himself, but that was when he was young and foolish, and he’d forgotten that it wasn’t possible to change what a man was born to.

  Tanya brought Rue indoors, and introductions were made. Amos. Noah. Mammi. Mammi’s name was Mary Lapp, but she was never called Mary in this house. Rue stared silently around the room, looking stricken. Thomas sank down to his haunches in front of her.

  “Hello, Rue,” he said quietly.

  “Hello...” she whispered.

  “This is all very new, isn’t it?” he said.

  “Yes. I want my mommy...” Tears welled in her eyes, and Thomas reached out and patted her shoulder.

  “Have you had a...daddy...before?” He hesitated over the English word. Had Tina moved on with another Englisher man? That was what he was asking.

  “No, never,” she whispered. His heart clenched. How much wrong had he done in that woman’s life? He’d known better, and he wouldn’t ever completely forgive himself for the way he’d conducted himself in that relationship.

  “You’ll call me Daet,” he said softly. “And I’ll take care of you. You’ll be safe and happy here, yah?”

  Rue wiped her eyes on her teddy bear and looked hesitantly around the kitchen again. Her bright pants and T-shirt were in stark contrast to their plain clothing.

  “Where’s the TV?” Rue whispered.

  “We don’t have a TV,” he said.

  “How come?” She frowned, peering past him as if he were hiding it somewhere, and Thomas couldn’t help but smile.

  “Because we’re Amish, Rue. You’ll get used to our ways.”

  It didn’t seem to be the right thing to say because Rue’s eyes filled with tears again, and he looked helplessly toward Amos and Noah. He wasn’t quite so comforting for the little girl as he’d hoped, and he didn’t know how to cross that divide.

  “Thomas, pick her up,” Mammi said, waving a hand at him. “She’s just a tired little thing, and she needs to be held.”

  Thomas looked hesitantly around, and when Tanya nodded her approval of the idea, he gently picked Rue up and rose to his feet. She was light and small in his arms, and when he gathered her close, she leaned her little head against his shoulder and exhaled a shaky sigh. It was then that he felt it—that wave of protective love.

  “All right, then,” he murmured. “All right, then.”

  “Are you all set up for Rue to stay?” Tanya asked.

  “Yes, she’ll sleep in a little bed in Mammi’s bedroom,” Amos said, speaking up. “Mammi—” He hesitated. “That is, Grandma to us. So the child won’t be alone.”

  “I’ll take care of her with the washing and dressing and such,” Mammi said. “She’ll be well cared for.”

  “And we have another young woman coming to help,” Amos added. “She’ll arrive in a few minutes to meet Rue.”

  “It sounds like you’re prepared, then,” Tanya said. “I’ll go get Rue’s suitcase from the trunk.”

  The older woman disappeared out the door, the screen clattering back with a bang.

  “So, the new schoolteacher said she’d help?” Thomas asked, shooting Uncle Amos a questioning look.

  “She did,” Amos replied. “I’m sorry, I meant to tell you. She’s a nice young woman, too. You should take note—with a child, it’s high time you get a wife.”

  As if Thomas could even think about courting right now. He looked down into Rue’s pale little face. The delicate skin under her eyes looked almost bruised from lack of sleep, and he reached up and brushed her hair away from her forehead. He was still taking her in, looking her over, trying to see himself in that little face. He could see her mother there—the hair, the eyes. Was he there, too? He must be, but it was hard to tell.

  There was a tap on the door and Amos went to push open the screen. Thomas looked up, expecting to see the social services woman again, but this time a young Amish woman stepped inside. She wore a purple dress, and her apron was gleaming white. Her hair was golden—the part he could see before it disappeared under her kapp—and she smiled hesitantly, looking around the kitchen.

  “This is Patience Flaud,” Amos said. “She’ll be teaching school here starting in September, and she’s staying with the Kauffmans.”

  Hannah and Samuel Kauffman lived on the next acreage over, and Hannah and Mammi were good friends—they had coffee together at least twice a week and they’d been known to help each other out with canning and washing days.

  Patience, however, was distinctly younger than old Hannah Kauffman...and prettier. Thomas swallowed.

  “You asked me to help out?” Patience said.

  “Yah,” Thomas said, stepping forward with his daughter in his arms. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Thomas Wiebe, and this is my daughter, Rue.”

  Patience smiled at the girl, cocking her head to one side. “Ruth, is it?” she asked in German.

  “No, Rue. She’s Englisher.” As if her clothing wasn’t glaring enough. Thomas felt heat flood his face. “It’s...a long story. She doesn’t know German. But she’s mine, and I’ll need a woman’s help.”

  “Besides me, of course,” Mammi said. “I’m not as young as I used to be, and I’m not sure I could chase down kinner if the need arose. Safety, you know.”

  “Rue, then,” Patience said, switching to English, and her gaze flickered up to Thomas, sharpening slightly. She’d have questions, no doubt. Everyone would, and his reputation as a good, Amish man looking for a wife was officially tarnished. He’d now be the Amish man with an Englisher child looking for a wife—very different.

  “Hello, Rue. I’m Patience,” she said softly and she glanced over to the table where the older woman had set down a pan of cinnamon buns. “Are you hungry? Mammi has some sticky buns.”

  Rue lifted her head from Thomas’s shoulder and looked toward the table.

  “Have you ever had a grandmother before?” Patience asked.

  Rue shook her head.

  “Well, you have one now. This is Mammi. Mammies are kind and sweet and they cook the best food...” Patience bent down conspiratorially. “I’m glad to meet your new mammi, too!”

  Mammi smiled. “Come now, Rue,” she said gently. “I think you’ll like my sticky buns.”

  Thomas put Rue back down and she went toward the table, sidling up next to Mammi like a hurt animal looking for protection. Mammi bent down to talk to her, and Thomas heaved a sigh.

  “She looks very sweet,” Patience said, and Thomas glanced over. Patience met his gaze with her clear blue eyes, and for a moment, he felt all the words clam up inside him. Why did the schoolteacher have to be so distractingly pretty?

  “Yah,” he said after a moment. “I’ve just met her, myself.”

  “How did that—” Patience stopped and blushed. “I mean, this is the first you’ve met her?”

  “I had a rebellious Rumspringa,” he said quietly. “One I learned from. I’m not proud of that.”

  In fact, he’d meant to keep the secret for the rest of his days, if he could. What use was it to the community to advertise his weakness? But that secret was no longer possible, and his mistakes were about to be very public.

  “I’m not judging,” she murmured.

  But she was. Everyone would. Thomas would, too, if he were in their place. What did she think of him now?

  The door opened again, and the social services woman came inside with a suitcase, and things turned official once more. There was discussion of dental visits, doctor’s appointments and counseling for the family to help with the transition if they should feel the need.

  “No,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “We have our ways, and if there is one thing our people do, it’s raise kinner. She’ll be loved...dearly.”

  Emotion choked off his voice, and he forced a smile as he shook Tanya’s hand in farewell.

  “Congratulations, Mr
. Wiebe,” Tanya said. “You have a beautiful daughter.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  That was the first anyone had congratulated him yet. Noah, Amos and Mammi had reassured him, but that was a different sentiment. In this community, Rue was a shock. Not only did Thomas have to confess to a rather large mistake in her conception, but he was bringing an Englisher child into their midst. The Amish understood the trouble he’d brought to everyone, and one did not congratulate a mess.

  “I’m going to give you my phone number, and some information to help you in this transition,” Tanya went on, and for the next few minutes, he attempted to grasp all that she was saying. The Englishers had their ways, but the Amish would pull together and deal with this the way they always had—with community. He accepted the pamphlets and brochures that she handed to him before walking out the door.

  There were always consequences—to his own household and to the community. The Amish protected their boundaries for a reason—there were other young people who could be influenced. Their way of life was not only an act of worship, it was a wall between themselves and the world. He’d just brought a piece of the outside world into their midst in the form of his tiny daughter. There would be strong opinions, he had no doubt, and he couldn’t blame his neighbors if they voiced them.

  This was precisely why a man needed to behave himself before marriage, and now he must shoulder those consequences. Thomas stood there by the door for a moment as he listened to the social services agent start her car.

  Gott, guide me, he prayed silently. I know I went wrong out there in the world, but she’s just a little mite, and... She’s mine.

  He was Rue’s daet. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  * * *

  Patience went into the kitchen and opened a cupboard, looking for the plates. Mammi stood at the table, slicing the cinnamon buns apart with a paring knife, but she’d need plates to serve them on. This was Patience’s role in any Amish home—to help out in the kitchen. She didn’t need to be asked, and she didn’t need permission. She found the plates in the second cupboard that she checked, and she glanced over at the table to do a quick head count.