Willow: Bride of Pennsylvania (American Mail-Order Brides 2) by Merry Farmer

Author:Merry Farmer [Farmer, Merry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Romance, Fiction, Forever Love, Victorian Era, Western, Second In Series, Saga, Fifty-Books, Forty-Five Authors, Newspaper Ad, Short Story, American Mail-Order Bride, Amish, Mennonite, Bachelor, Single Woman, Pennsylvania, Marriage Of Convenience, Christian, Religious, Faith, Inspirational, Factory Burned, Ex-Amish, Guilt, Unresolved Conflict, Neighbor, Secrets, Painful Breach, Best Friend, Pioneer
Goodreads: 27424170
Publisher: Virtual Bookseller, LLC
Published: 2015-11-20T05:00:00+00:00

Willow backpedaled away from the splattered dish of creamed potatoes that now decorated the floor of Beth’s kitchen. She shook out her hand—which throbbed with the burn she’d gotten when Laura Byler handed the hot dish to her.

“I spent more than an hour preparing those potatoes,” Laura snapped at her. “They were meant for the table, not the floor, you stupid Englischer.”

The other women in the room gasped, eyes darting from one to another, and especially to Willow and Laura. All Willow could think about was how the shock of being burned was nothing to the flash of guilt that fire and her clumsiness raised in her. Laura had handed her the dish well enough, but Willow had let the corner of the thick cloth insulating the dish stray too close to the stovetop, and had panicked when it caught flame.

“Mamm, Mrs. Stoltzfus is hurt,” Sarah cried in distressed from the far end of the kitchen where the children were playing.

“Here. Let’s run your hand under cold water.” Beth stepped over the mess of potatoes on the floor, took Willow’s hand, and led her to the sink. “I have some salve we can put on it too.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Laura growled. “What about this mess? Who’s going to clean it up?”

The sound of several male footsteps coming across the dining room accompanied Beth’s command of, “Since you seem to be the most concerned about it, why don’t you start cleaning?”

“What happened?” Mark asked, stopping in the doorway to the kitchen.

“That oaf of an Englischer ruined my potatoes,” Laura complained. “What right does someone like her have to be here anyhow?”

“Don’t you be mean to my friend.” Little Sarah stepped forward, fists on her hips.

“Sarah, don’t talk back to your elders,” Beth scolded the girl, but Willow caught a flash of approval in her eyes. “And Laura, I’ll thank you to remember that Willow and Amos are our guests.”

“Guests?” Laura snapped. “They shouldn’t even be in this house. Amos Stoltzfus isn’t fit to be around decent people. And as for his wife?” She snorted.

Again, the women watching the scene gasped and stepped back. Some retreated to their husbands’ sides, whispering. Others rushed to escort the children out of the room through the opposite entrance.

“She’s right,” Saul defended his wife. “Why should we be forced to sit down at a table with a man who refuses to sit down at God’s table?”

With Beth tending to her hand under the cool water of the kitchen pump, Willow could only call over her shoulder to say, “Amos is a good, wonderful man. He is kindness itself.”

“And you’re clumsiness itself,” Laura bit back.

Saul snorted with vicious laughter.

“Excuse me,” Amos’s booming voice rode over the unpleasant sound. He wedged his way past Mark in the kitchen’s doorway, his frown dark enough to terrify a lesser soul. With one large stride, he stepped over the mess on the floor—which one of the sweeter, quieter women Willow had just been introduced to had started cleaning up, her head bowed—and marched straight to Beth and Willow at the sink.

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