Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace)
Beautifully researched, Annie’s Truth delivers a unique glimpse into the Amish community and into the true meaning of friendship and love.
—TAMMY BARLEY
AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR OF THE SIERRA
CHRONICLES
Annie’s Truth has a premise I found fascinating. The way the characters dealt with the premise kept me turning pages. Definitely a very good read.
—LENA NELSON DOOLEY
AUTHOR OF MAGGIE’S JOURNEY, MARY’S BLESSING, AND
THE WILL ROGERS MEDALLION AWARD WINNER LOVE
FINDS YOU IN GOLDEN, NEW MEXICO
Beth Shriver creates a gentle love story of Annie, an Amish girl abandoned as a newborn, who goes looking for her birth family and discovers the real meaning of community and the glue that holds it together. Shriver’s attention to sense and the rhythm of words make Annie’s Truth an uplifting hymn.
—LISA LICKEL
AUTHOR OF THE MAP QUILT
Shriver leads you on an intricate journey of the heart where all that is known is left behind, all that lies ahead is uncertain, and all that is within remains divided. Annie’s Truth is a novel that will delight readers of Amish fiction.
—JILLIAN KENT
AUTHOR OF SECRETS OF THE HEART AND CHAMELEON
Annie’s Truth is filled with vivid characters, tender moments, and a theme that is sure to resound with those searching for their place in life. This is a wonderful and touching story, and one that fans of Amish fiction will not be able to put down. Highly recommended!
—LAURA V. HILTON
AUTHOR OF THE AMISH OF SEYMOUR SERIES
(PATCHWORK DREAMS, A HARVEST OF HEARTS, PROMISED
TO ANOTHER)
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ANNIE’S TRUTH by Beth Shriver
Published by Realms
Charisma Media/Charisma House Book Group
600 Rinehart Road
Lake Mary, Florida 32746
www.charismahouse.com
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible and from Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, International Bible Society. Used by permission.
Although this story is depicted from the town of Staunton and the surrounding area, the characters created are fictitious. The traditions are similar to the Amish ways, but because all groups are different with dialogue, rules, and culture, they may vary from what your conception may be.
Copyright © 2012 by Beth Shriver
All rights reserved
Cover design by Bill Johnson
Visit the author’s website at www.BethShriverWriter.com.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Shriver, Beth.
Annie’s truth / Beth Shriver. – 1st ed.
p. cm. – (Touch of grace; bk. 1)
ISBN 978-1-61638-607-8 (trade paper) – ISBN 978-1-61638-864-5 (ebook) 1. Amish–Fiction. 2. Adoption–Fiction. I. Title.
PS3619.H7746A84 2012
813’.6–dc23
2012002334
First edition
12 13 14 15 16 — 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America
To Shelley Shepherd Gray, my sister in Christ and my
inspiration to write those first words
Never doubt in the darkness what God has shown you in
the light.
—Amish Proverb
Table of Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Epilogue
Glossary
Prologue
THE BRIGHT MOON illuminated the velvet sky. Shafts of corn swayed in the soft, warm breeze as if alive, dancing a waltz in the huge ten-acre field. The cries from a pack of coyotes erupted through the nearby hills surrounding the Shenandoah Valley.
Amos Beiler made his way through the rows of ripe corn as the pups howled an off-kilter tune along with the group. Amos followed a different cry—that of a human babe, the sobs weak and intermittent, nearly drowned out by the louder yelp of the coyotes.
He used his shotgun to slash his way through the six-foot stalks in a maze of never-ending rows until a small whimper close by made him stop. He turned to his right and looked down a stretch of dirt that led to his farmhouse a good mile away. He’d come to protect his livestock from the coyotes, but finding their prey was his new goal.
Another sputter from the next line over caught his attention. He moved quickly, not wanting to lose sight of the area where the sound came from. Cornstalks shadowed the dirt path that led him closer to the child. Now in bouts of darkness, he listened with an attentive ear to any tiny sound. A frog croaked. The wind rustled through the corn leaves. Another curt howl sounded. All made him pause, listen, and discern.
Another wail from the babe made him step quickly, running through the dark aisle of soil. Finally he caught a glimpse of movement; something white flashed from the ground. As he neared, he saw a colorless blanket. He unwrapped it to find a newborn inside. As he lifted the small bundle to his chest, a sense of urgency stirred up in him. The need for protection set him into action.
The coyotes’ song ended. They were on the hunt now, looking for the prize he’d found. They were downwind of him, sure to have his scent and that of the child.
Carrying the gun with one hand and the babe close to his shoulder, he cradled its head in his palm and hurried toward the house. He looked behind him only once and saw motion out of the corner of his eye. The wind played tricks on him that he dared not allow to fool him. The faster he walked, the farther away the house seemed.
When Amos finally reached a window on the side of the house, he lifted the gun and banged one time, hard. He dropped to his knee and scanned the field. One, two, four pairs of yellow eyes fell upon him. He set the crying babe on the ground
behind him. Then he steadied his gun.
Chapter One
THE DINNER BELL rang just as one of the milk cows slapped Annie’s kapp with its tail. Now she was late for the evening meal. She pulled the black kapp off her head. When Maggie swatted Annie, the pins were knocked loose. She wiped off the dirt and cow manure then hastily twisted up her hair into a bun and pulled the kapp over her mess of hair.
“Need some help?” John Yoder’s dark eyes smiled at her.
She jumped at the sight of him looking down at her with a grin. “Nee, I can finish up.”
Her mamm would scold her for her tardiness and her unruly hair, so she quickly grabbed two containers of milk, clutching them to her chest. When she turned around, John was removing the cups from the Guernsey’s udders.
“Danke. The boys must have missed a couple.” The cover of one of the containers lifted, causing milk to spill out onto her black dress. Annie wiped her hand on her white apron. Frustration bubbled up and burst out in an irritated groan.
“Now what?” John opened the barn door and shut it behind them.
Annie pointed to the milk stain and slowed her walk so he could catch up. Her mamm wouldn’t be as upset with her if she saw Annie with John.
“I spilled on myself, my hair’s a mess, and I’m late.” She juggled the containers to keep them in place as she walked.
John’s smile never left, just tipped to the side while she listed her worries. “You’re never late.”
“You will be too if you keep talking to me.” The milk sloshed around in the containers as she adjusted them again. “Taking the long way home?”
“Jah, thought I’d come by to say hallo.” He took one from her then reached for the other.
She turned slightly so he couldn’t reach the second bottle. “I’ve got this one.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged as his grin widened.
They walked together toward their houses, which were down the path from one another, divided by a dozen trees. John was three the day Annie was born and had been a part of her life more than her own brothers were at times. His brown hair brushed his collar as he walked with her, holding back to keep in step with Annie.
“Aren’t you late to help with cooking?” He nodded toward her white clapboard house. A birdfeeder was hung at the far end of the porch, which had a peaked black roof, and daisies filled her mamm’s flower garden in front of the house. Mamm created a colorful greeting of flora for every season.
She shook her head. “Nee, Eli’s helping the Lapps, so I’m helping the boys with milking. What were you doing, cutting tobacco?”
He nodded. “Nice day for it too. The sun was bright, but there was a breeze that kept us cool.” He lifted his strong, handsome face toward the sunshine and took in a deep breath.
He was just trying to irritate her, so she ignored his jab. John knew she preferred being outdoors and that she would trade places with him in an instant. When the time was right she would help with the tobacco harvesting and, along with many others, would then prepare the meal after the task was done.
“It looked warm outside to me.” She took the milk from him and kept walking. The last of the warm summer days were coming to an end, and soon it would be time for fall harvesting.
They reached the trail that led to John’s home on the far side of a stand of tall oak trees. “Not as hot as in the kitchen.” He snapped his suspenders and turned onto the trail leading away from her.
“John Yoder…” was all she could say this close to her daed’s ears. She watched him continue on down the roughed-out dirt lane thinking of what she would have said if she could. Her gaze took in the many acres of barley, corn, and oat crops and then moved to the Virginia mountainside beyond, where the promise of fall peeked out between the sea of green.
Annie walked up the wooden stairs and into the kitchen. The room was simple and white, uncluttered. A long table and chairs took over the middle of the large room, and rag rugs of blue and emerald added color and softness. For a unique moment it was silent. “Annie?” Her mamm’s voice made her worry again about being late, with a soiled dress and unkempt hair.
Her tall, slender mamm stopped picking up the biscuits from a baking pan and placed both hands on the counter. She let out a breath when Annie came into the kitchen. “Ach, good, you brought the milk.” Mamm’s tired gaze fell on Annie.
“I was talking with John.” She opened the cooler door and placed the milk on the shelf.
Her mamm’s smile told Annie she wasn’t late after all, so she continued. “He said it was a good day for baling.”
Hanna and her brother strolled in, and he grabbed a biscuit, creating a distraction that allowed Annie time to twist her hair up and curl it into a tight bun. A tap from their mamm’s hand made her son drop the biscuit back into the basket with the rest.
“I’m so hungry.” Thomas’s dark freckles on his pudgy face contrasted to his light hair and skin, so unlike Annie’s olive-colored complexion, which was more like their daed’s.
She tousled his hair. “You are always the first one to dinner and the last one to leave.”
“I’m a growing child. Right, Mamm?” Thomas took the basket of biscuits to the table and set them next to his plate.
“That you are. Now go sit down and wait for the others.” Mamm placed a handful of biscuits in the breadbox and brushed her hands off on her white apron.
While they waited for the others to wash up, she addressed Annie. “John walked you out this morning and walked you home?”
“Like he has most every day of my life.” Annie’s voice almost reached the edge into sarcasm, but she smiled to make light of it. Didn’t her mamm know that her obvious nudging turned Annie away from John, not toward him?
Hanna had been quiet, listening, and walked over to Annie. “Should we ask Mamm if we can look in our chests in the attic?”
Annie peered over Hanna’s shoulder at Mamm. “Jah, but let’s wait until after supper.”
Her mamm’s brow lifted just as the buzz of her family coming into the room sidetracked her attention from Annie and Hanna. The younger ones were restless with hunger, and the older siblings talked amongst themselves. Frieda, Hanna, Augustus, Eli, Thomas, and Samuel all sat in the same chairs they were always in, and Annie took her assigned seat with the rest.
Her daed sat at the head of the table and waited with watchful eyes until everyone was quiet. When Amos folded his hands, all followed suit, and they all said silent grace.
Geef ons heden ons dagelijks brood. Give us this day our daily bread. Amen. Annie thought the words then kept her eyes closed until she heard movement from the others.
Amos passed the food to his right until it made a full circle back to him.
“We’ve almost finished with the Lapps’s tobacco field,” Annie’s oldest brother, Eli, informed Amos. He and Hanna had Mamm’s silky blond hair and blue eyes, but Hanna didn’t have her disposition.
Amos nodded and lifted a bite of chicken to his mouth.
Eli leaned toward Amos. “I can then tend to our barley day after tomorrow.”
Amos spoke without looking at his son. “You will work the Lapps’s land until they say you are finished. Not before.”
The gleam in Eli’s dark eyes faded as he took up his fork. “Jah, Daed.”
Mamm spoke then. “It’s an honor you are able to help them while their daed recovers.” She shifted her attention to her husband. “Have you heard how Ephraim is healing?”
Amos continued to eat as he spoke to her mamm. “His back is mending. It’s his worrisome wife that keeps him laid up.”
“Ach, I’d probably do the same if it were you.” Mamm waited a moment until Daed’s mouth lifted into a half smile.
He gave the table a smack to stop Frieda from tempting Thomas with another biscuit. “The boy can help himself without your teasing him.”
She set their hands in her lap. “Jah, Daed.”
He nodded for them to eat again. Conversation was un
common during meals, so Annie let her mind wander. Harvest season was approaching, and the excitement of upcoming weddings was on everyone’s mind. Although the courtship was to be kept quiet, most knew which couples would most likely be married in the coming months.
Annie’s mind went to John, the one she knew her parents, as well as his, would expect her to be with. Although she had feelings for him, she wished her spouse would not be chosen for her. It had changed her relationship with him just knowing what their expectations were. He had been her best friend, but she now kept him at bay, hoping for more time before the pressure became too great and they were forced to marry.
She put the palm of her hand to her forehead, resting there with thoughts of who else she could possibly be with from their community. Names went through her mind, but not one appealed to her in the same way John did.
Hanna nudged Annie as everyone began to clear the table. Annie’s mind rushed back to the present. She knew why Hanna wanted her attention. She was thinking about the upcoming nuptials too. Their wedding chests gave them promise for their own special day.
“Let’s ask Mamm.” Hanna’s eyes shone with excitement. Annie felt a lift in her spirits at the thought of having the privilege to rummage through their special treasures. She looked at her mamm laughing at her brother’s story of his britches getting caught on the Lapps’s fence. Her smile faded when he showed her the hole the wire made, which she would be mending that evening.
“You ask her,” Annie urged.
Hanna was the closest to Annie’s age and her confidante, as she was Hanna’s. “After dinner.” Hanna got up from her chair to help.
Frieda started the hand pump as the others gathered the dishes and put away the extra food. Once the dishes were cleaned and dried, Hanna and Annie went to their mamm, who stacked plates in the cupboard as the girls walked over to her.
“What do you want to ask me?” Mamm continued with the dishes until the last plate was put away.
Hanna and Annie looked at one another. Annie furrowed her brows to make Hanna talk.
“We’d like to see our hope chests.”
“It’s a long while from any weddings being published.” Mamm placed a hand on the counter and studied them. “Okay, then. But after your lessons are done.”