Her Secret Amish Child
An Amish Second ChanceNewly-widowed Lizbeth Mullet has a secret: she’s never told anyone the true identity of her son’s father. Not even now that she’s come home to Pinecraft and the man in question is her new landlord. Fredrik Lapp may not know Benuel is his son, but the two soon form an unmistakable bond. And seeing Fredrik again stirs feelings Lizbeth had worked hard to bury. With Fredrick’s affections resurfacing too, the burden of Lizbeth’s secret is only getting heavier. Revealing the truth could mean a lifetime of happiness together—or the loss of her second chance at forever.
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An Amish Second Chance
Newly widowed Lizbeth Mullet has a secret: sheâs never told anyone the true identity of her sonâs father. Not even now that sheâs come home to Pinecraft and the man in question is her new landlord. Fredrik Lapp may not know Benuel is his son, but the two soon form an unmistakable bond. And seeing Fredrik again stirs feelings Lizbeth had worked hard to bury. With Fredrickâs affections resurfacing, too, the burden of Lizbethâs secret is only getting heavier. Revealing the truth could mean a lifetime of happiness togetherâor the loss of her second chance at forever.
âI appreciate your help, but I can clean the rest myself,â Lizbeth assured him.
One of the ladies tossed him a new trash bag. He squatted and began to work on the pile of trash under the steps. âThis is my fault,â he said, glancing up and grinning at her in the goofy way he had when he was a boy. The memory made her heart skip a beat.
âBut I made the mess.â She picked up a half-eaten apple off the step and tossed it into the bag.
Fredrikâs grin spread into a full-blown smile. âYa, but I was supposed to fix that raised nail this morning before it could cause someone trouble.â
The past fell away and she was a girl of seventeen again, looking into the sparkling blue eyes of the young Fredrik Lapp. He continued to hold her gaze. She pulled her eyes away. The man was having too much fun at her expense. She didnât have a clue what to do about it or the emotions churning in her stomach. But she knew she couldnât let herself grow too close to him. Not this time. Too much was at stake.
CHERYL WILLIFORD and her veteran husband, Henry, live in South Texas, where theyâve raised three children, numerous foster children, alongside a menagerie of rescued cats, dogs and hamsters. Her love for writing began in a literature class, and now her characters keep her grabbing for paper and pen. She is a member of her local ACFW and CWA chapters, and is a seamstress, watercolorist and loving grandmother. Her website is cherylwilliford.com.
Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
âIsaiah 41:10
I dedicate this book to my husband, Henry, who endures endless hours of backstory and plot. To my two daughters, Barbara and Susan. You make me want to succeed. And to God, who gave me writing when I needed a clear and untroubled path. God bless ACFWâs Golden Girls critique group. Nanci, Liz, Shannon and Janâ¦you dear, talented ladies make my job so much easier.
Contents
Pinecraft, Floridaâa midsummer afternoon
Had she made yet another mistake?
âDonât touch that seat again,â Lizbeth Mullet said, stretching across her sonâs extended legs to wedge their carry-on bag in front of his small brown shoes, hoping to block his incessant movement.
Three times in the past hour Benuel had slapped or kicked at her when sheâd scolded him. Each time she hadnât known what to do, how to change the overactive four-year-old boyâs behavior. She knew what she wanted to do, what felt like the right thing to do, but her built-in insecurities held her back, forced her to doubt her abilities as a single parent. A torturous night without sleep and little to eat added to her misery.
âPinecraft, Florida,â the bus driver announced. With the flick of his wrist he turned the busâs steering wheel and headed off the highway to his designated stop.
Several people milled around the parking lot of the Pinecraft Tourist Church, waiting for loved ones to arrive. With her father running late, no one would be waiting for her and the boy. Theyâd left Ohio in secret, telling no one except her father they were leaving or where they were going. There would be no going back. Her late husbandâs family could not hurt them now.
The Amish and Mennonite people scattered throughout the Pioneer Trails bus began to reach under seats for bags and wake up sleeping children.
Memories of the quaint little resort town she once called home beckoned. Pinecraft Park was on her right, and her fatherâs prosperous chicken farm a few miles down the road, on the outskirts of the small town of Sarasota. She had grown up in this community of Old and New Order Amish people. This is where she belonged. Gott willing, she would heal and regain her strength here, around the people who knew her best and loved her.
Scrambling to gather up their belongings while trying to keep Benuel from climbing over her legs and escaping, Lizbeth tucked his bag of toys under her arm and scooped up their satchel from the floor.
