Ellis - Autumn Grace

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Copyright 2013 by Parachute Publishing LLC

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eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-60654-4

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Ellis, Marianne.

Autumn grace / Marianne Ellis.

p. cm. (Amish seasons ; 2)

ISBN 978-0-425-26426-3 (pbk.)

1. AmishFiction. 2. Domestic fiction. I. Title.

PS3605.L4678A97 2013

813'.6dc23

2013025505

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Berkley trade paperback edition / November 2013

Cover design by Judith Lagerman

Cover illustration by Jim Griffin

Cover photos: cross stitch Louellea938 / Shutterstock; embroidered

grapes Zygimantas Capaitis / Shutterstock

Interior text design by Laura K. Corless

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

For Jane, Cam, and Ellen

The best writing team ever!

One

R uth Schrock straightened up and brushed rich, black earth from her apron. She loved working in her familys vegetable garden, but summer had extended its heat and humidity into September. The sun beat down on her, and only her bare toes, curled into the earth, were cool. She pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her forehead and her nape beneath her kapp. She was looking forward to a soak in the tub tonight. That would help her sleep so she could finish harvesting tomorrow.

She picked green beans and placed them in the bucket with a late squash and the final tomatoes. Everything else, except for the pumpkins, was already canned. The pumpkins still needed a week or two before being cut from their wandering vines. Then, she would slice, peel, cook, and mash them. To some she would add nutmeg, ginger, and cinnamon, for desserts and sweet sauces. The rest would be canned without spice. Daed liked egg noodles, chicken, and stewed pumpkin after he finished the milking on a cold winters night.

Ruth did most of the cooking now, because Mamm was going to have another boppli in early December. Ruth was the oldest of seven daughters, so her mamm was praying as hard for a boy as Daed was. All Ruth prayed for was that the boppli be healthy. It was her mothers tenth pregnancy, including a miscarriage and a stillborn son.

Ruth dropped the last beans in the bucket and glanced at the old, white farmhouse with porches on each side. Gut!Mamm wasnt in sight. Maybe she was resting, as the midwife had ordered. The barn behind the house was the same white, and the wide door to the upper story gaped open. Daed had finished chopping corn for the day, and the mules were in the pasture. By now, he would be starting evening chores.

The grass tickled her feet as she crossed the yard. One of her younger sisters would need to mow tomorrow. She couldnt remember if it was Maisies or Ellas turn.

Climbing the steps to the mud porch set between the kitchen and the vacant dawdi-haus, she opened the screened kitchen door. She wasnt surprised to see Mamm by the table, mixing something in a bowl she had propped against her large stomach. A smudge of flour accented her turned-up nose that was so much like Ruths. Her eyes were brown, and her light-brown hair glittered with gray. She wasnt very tall, unlike Ruth who towered over her. Now that Mamm was so round, she looked even shorter.

Mamm, I thought you were going to sit, Ruth chided her gently.

I tried, but I promised your sisters some ginger molasses cookies. Mamm smiled, but nothing could erase the fatigue on her face. Its not in my nature to sit and do nothing all afternoon.

I know. Ruth didnt bother to remind Mamm there were things she could do: mending, working on the bopplis quilt, or making new clothes for the younger girls. But Mamm wasnt one for sitting. Neither was Ruth, which was why she loved working in the garden, even on a hot day. Let me make supper tonight.

Ach, that will be gut, Ruth.

Im going to wash up at the pump. I think I brought half the dirt from the garden with me.

Mamm laughed then put her hand to her stomach. That was a big kick. She winced. A very big one.

Are you all right? If her mamm went into labor early, the boppli might die. Do I need to call the midwife?

No. Im fine. She waved toward the door. You worry too much. Go and wash up. Make sure Vera and Mattie wash, too. I saw them playing in the mud by the pump earlier.

Ruth set the bucket of vegetables in the sink, reminding Mamm to leave the cleaning to her. She planned the evening meal while going back outside to find her youngest sisters. Mamm had baked bread that morning, and Ruth would make a stew with leftover chicken. That should be enough for the nine of them, with Mamms delicious cookies and pie for dessert.

If only Ruth could be as gut a cook as Mamm... She tried, but she found cooking traditional recipes boring. When she added a new ingredient and the meal came out tasting strange, Mamm laughed. Thats our Ruth. Always needing to do something different.

Daed wasnt so forgiving, especially when he didnt like Ruths experiments. He was a stickler for tradition. Maybe thats why God had picked him to serve as the districts deacon, even though Mamm joked with her daughters that Daed needed an excuse to escape so many females. The mules were female, the cows were female, the hens were female, most of the barn cats were female, and he had seven daughters.

Now Ruth needed to find the two youngest. Vera was six and Mattie just four. It was gut that Mamm was having another boppli, because Mattie had been lonely since Vera began school two weeks ago. As far as Ruth could see, the two tried to compress a days worth of mischief into the hours after school.

Ruth! Ruth! called Vera, breaking into Ruths thoughts. Komm and play with us.

Her youngest sisters rushed to her. Their bare legs were splattered with mud, and so were the hems of their burgundy dresses. Their brown hair, streaked with gold as light as Ruths hair, stuck out in every direction from beneath their white, heart-shaped