A Love For Leah. Emma MillerЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Children are our greatest blessing,” Sara said. She had never been fortunate enough to have a child, but she had loved many children and hoped to love more. Why God chose to not give some women children—or to take them away—she would never understand. “The ways of the Lord are often a mystery to us, aren’t they?” she murmured.
“Ya,” Leah agreed. “I thought I would lose my mind in those first months after I lost them. I know I shed enough tears to raise the level of the Amazon River, but, fortunately, I had our work. We had a small school and Daniel’s clinic. He had been a nurse and I learned so much from him working at his side. After he was gone, there was no one else to help and I had to make do.” She looked up and Sara gazed into the depths of those cornflower-blue eyes. “I delivered babies, sewed up knife wounds and set broken arms and legs. I was too busy to think much about what I wanted for myself when I could come home.”
“But you knew that you wanted to come home to Seven Poplars?” Sara asked.
Leah nibbled absently at a knuckle. Her hands were slender, her nails clean and filed. They were strong hands to go with her strong spirit, Sara thought.
“There was no question of my staying in Brazil as a woman alone. I wouldn’t even have remained there as long as I did, but there was unrest. Trouble between the lumber contractors and the native people. And there were floods. They were so bad that our clinic was cut off from the nearest town for quite some time. It wasn’t safe for a new team to come in. It was a blessing, really. I had a chance to say my goodbyes and see the school and clinic put in good hands before I left.” Leah shook her head. “But I won’t bore you with my memories. If you think you can help me, then I want to tell you what I require in a husband.”
“I could never be bored with tales of your experiences in Brazil,” Sara assured her. “But it would be helpful if you tell me what your expectations are in a husband.”
Leah steepled her hands and leaned forward on the kitchen table. “First, he must be Amish, of strong faith and respected in the community. I would prefer a mature man, a middle-aged widower, someone who may already have children. How old doesn’t matter, so long as he isn’t too old to father children.”
Sara pressed her lips together to keep from smiling inappropriately. This adventurous child of her cousin was certainly outspoken. Whether it was her nature or a trait she’d picked up in her travels, Sara wasn’t certain. It was all she could do to not show her amusement. “You’re still a young woman,” she said. “Not yet thirty. Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer a younger bachelor?”
“Ne. I’m sure of it,” Leah said firmly. “I’ve been the wife of a young man. I married for love. I’ll never have that again, and I know that. I’m a realistic woman, Cousin Sara. I know that affection and respect may lead to a different type of love someday.” She met Sara’s gaze. “I want someone different for a second husband, someone I’ll not ever compare to my Daniel.”
Sara nodded thoughtfully, and while she didn’t know that she was in agreement, she certainly understood what Leah was saying. “Do you have a choice of occupations?” she asked. “Farmer? Carpenter?”
“It matters not. I’m used to making do with few material goods. I ask only for a husband who isn’t lazy and will be a good example for our children. He must know how much I want more children.” Leah’s voice took on a breathy tone. “I could not bear it if I never rocked another baby in my arms or woke to see my precious child’s shining face beaming in wonder at the new day.” She inhaled deeply. “So you see, it might be best if my husband-to-be already has children. I can adapt to any personality, but he must be someone who will welcome children and not treat them harshly.”
“Or treat you harshly,” Sara suggested.
Leah shrugged. “I can accept whatever the Lord sends me. I’ll be a good and dutiful wife, so long as he knows that my children must come first. My Daniel was an indulgent father. He adored our...” Tears glistened in her eyes again. She looked down, took a moment, then looked up at Sara again. “I want to be sure I’m being clear, Cousin Sara. What I want is a marriage of convenience, a union entered into for the purpose of forming a solid family. I’m not afraid of hard work, and I’ll be the best wife and helpmate I can. But I need a sensible man, a practical man who doesn’t expect more than I can give.” She hesitated. “Because part of me died in Brazil, Sara. All I can do is go on with what I have left.”
“You don’t believe in the possibility of a second love?” Sara asked gently. “Not when you see how happy your mother is with Albert, after the death of your father?”
“I’m not my mother,” Leah replied, sitting back in her chair. “I honor her, and I love her, but we are not the same. She and my father had many years together and time to form many memories. Daniel and I... It went by so quickly. Too quickly.”
Sara considered the young widow’s words. “Wouldn’t your Daniel want you to be happy?”
“Of course.” Leah smiled through the tears. “But I know myself. I know what I want. Offer me no lighthearted, carefree noodle-heads. I’m seeking a sober and steady husband, one with gray in his hair, who knows what it is to suffer loss. Can you find me such a man?”
Sara reached across the table and took Leah’s hands in hers. “I will do my best to find what you need in a husband. But you must remember, I can’t promise you children or happiness. We are all in God’s grace and we cannot see the path He plans for us.”
“I understand,” Leah agreed. She squeezed Sara’s hands and then pulled free. “And I was hoping that you would have room for me at your house. Where I could stay.”
“Certainly,” Sara agreed, genuinely surprised by the request. “But what about your mother? Surely, Hannah must want you here with her.”
“I don’t think that would be best,” Leah said firmly. “You know my mother. She’d want to put her spoon in my soup pot. I love this house and I love my family. But I’m not ready to fall into the habit of being a dutiful child again. You know exactly what I mean. I’m sure you’ve seen it before. A young widow returns home to her parents’ house and the next thing you know, twenty-five years have passed and her mother is still cooking her supper and hanging out her laundry. No. I’ll come to your home and put myself in your capable hands.”
She rose and picked up her teacup to carry to the sink. “Find me a husband, Cousin Sara.”
Leah drove her little car slowly down her mother’s driveway, savoring the familiar sights of green fields, grazing cows and her brother-in-law plowing with a four-horse team. Beside her sat Sara, several quarts of vegetable soup in a basket at her feet.
“It’s so strange to be back in Seven Poplars,” Leah said as she came to a stop at the edge of the blacktop and looked both ways for traffic. A buggy passed the mailbox, and several automobiles approached from the opposite direction, so she waited until it was safe to pull out. “One minute I feel like an outsider, and a few minutes later, it’s as if I never left home.”
“For me, it’s much like that, too,” Sara agreed. “I haven’t been in Delaware that long, but most of the time, I feel like I was born and raised here. Your mother and I have been close since we were children, but I didn’t know anyone else until I got here. It was a pleasant surprise to find all of Seven Poplars so welcoming.”
“I’m so glad.” Leah smiled at her. Plump Sara’s hair was dark and curly, her eyes the shade of ripe blackberries and her complexion a warm mocha. Although a generation older, Sara was a widow like Leah. And Sara had also made major changes in her life after she was left alone.
When it was safe, Leah turned onto the blacktop in her little black Honda and smiled to herself, suddenly glad she’d decided to put her future in Sara’s hands. She instinctively felt she could trust Sara, maybe even more than she could trust herself