“How is Ivy doing?” he asked.

  Zaac leaned in to get a better look at her face, but the movement brought him close enough that Miriam could smell his faint scent mingled with hay from the stables.

  “Um, she’s good,” Miriam said. “I changed her diaper, and she has a bottle of milk in her. She seems happiest close by the fire.”

  “She’ll be okay,” Zaac said, cocking his head to one side and smiling at the baby.

  “Yah, I think so.”

  Zaac cast Miriam a half smile, and she felt a rush of comfort at that smile. She dropped her gaze. She had to stop that. This was her late husband’s brother—complication enough. But more than that—he was on his way out of the community. He wasn’t her comfort.

  Her ex-Amish uncle and her late husband’s brother, who seemed inclined to go English, were both here at the same time… Miriam truly believed that Gott’s hand was in everything. So what was Gott doing?

  Patricia Johns is a Publishers Weekly bestselling author who writes from Alberta, Canada, where she lives with her husband and son. She writes Amish romances that will leave you yearning for a simpler life. You can find her at patriciajohns.com and on social media, where she loves to connect with her readers. Drop by her website and you might find your next read!

  Books by Patricia Johns

  Love Inspired

  Amish Chocolate Shop Brides

  An Amish Baby in Her Arms

  Amish Country Matches

  The Amish Matchmaking Dilemma

  Their Amish Secret

  The Amish Marriage Arrangement

  An Amish Mother for His Child

  Her Pretend Amish Beau

  Amish Sleigh Bells

  Redemption’s Amish Legacies

  The Nanny’s Amish Family

  A Precious Christmas Gift

  Wife on His Doorstep

  Snowbound with the Amish Bachelor

  Blended Amish Blessings

  The Amish Matchmaker’s Choice

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  An Amish Antiques Shop Romance

  Her Amish Country Husband

  Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.

  An Amish Baby in Her Arms

  Patricia Johns

  Note to Readers

  This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

  Change of font size and line height

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  Page numbers taken from the following print edition: ISBN 9781335621016

  Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones.

  —Proverbs 16:24

  To my husband and our son.

  You are the center of my world. I love you!

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Miriam listened to the roaring thunder and the slap of rain against the glass windows of the Black Bonnet Amish Chocolates shop. She had made a batch of chocolate-covered sea-salt caramels, and the sweet scent of the confections curled through the shop darkened by the storm.

  This shop was owned by Esther Mae, and she had a repertoire of chocolate recipes that were tried and true, but Miriam had a few ideas for new chocolate flavors she was eager to try out. Esther Mae had made no promises, but she’d said she’d be happy to taste anything Miriam came up with, and that was an exciting thought. For the first time in a long time, Miriam was thinking hopeful thoughts about the future again.

  Miriam’s late husband’s brother, Isaac Yoder, stood with his weight on one foot, his lips moving as he counted up the money from the day’s sales.

  “Twenty-eight fives…” Zaac murmured, writing with a ballpoint pen and then picking up the last pile of ones. While Zaac’s aunt was away, Miriam and Zaac had been left to run the shop on their own, with Zaac in charge. There had been tension between her and Zaac for years. It had started just before she married Elijah, and that tension had carried on through the short eight months of her marriage, past Elijah’s death a year ago, past her miscarriage shortly after that…

  Wind whistled past the gutters and rattled them dangerously. Miriam shivered, and Zaac glanced up at her, his dark gaze locking onto her for a moment before he turned back to the pile of bills.

  “You should head home,” he said, tucking the bundle of cash into a canvas bank deposit bag. “That storm is terrible.”

  Miriam lived with her grandfather. Her parents had passed away several years ago, and with all her recent heartbreak, living with Dawdie had been the best choice, and Dawdie had been very happy to have her there with him.

  The sound of a child’s cry wound with the wind past the window, and Miriam’s heart squeezed painfully. A year after losing her pregnancy, she still felt like she heard babies crying when there weren’t any. When would that stop?

  Zaac looked up, frowning. Wait… Had he heard it, too? Miriam’s heart skipped a beat. The hiccuping cry of a tiny baby filtered through the howling wind again, and Miriam’s heart hammered to a stop. That wasn’t some phantom sound from her own heartbreak.

  “That sounded like a baby,” Miriam breathed.

  Zaac straightened. “Where did it come from?”

  Miriam went to the window and shaded her eyes to look out the rain-clouded glass. A small car’s headlights broke through the downpour as it pulled away from the curb and drove off. Most shops on this street had closed down early, so it was surprising to see anyone out there.

  Miriam went over to the front door of the shop and pulled it open. The bell above tinkled cheerfully. There was a rush of wet, rain-scented air that pushed her cape dress back against her legs, and Miriam’s gaze dropped to a rather battered-looking car seat placed on the front mat. It was covered with a dirty blanket. Miriam squatted and pulled aside the fabric and inside was a tiny baby wrapped in a soiled receiving blanket—as dirty as the one covering it—the little mouth open in a wail, cheeks wet with tears and eyes scrunched shut.

  Miriam’s breath caught in her throat, and she picked up the car seat and brought it inside. A tiny baby—the very last reminder she needed on this miserable, cold night. She used her hip to close the door, and the baby’s cries filled the shop. The blanket was damp, and the infant had to be freezing cold. Tucked next to the baby was a rain-spattered note, written on the back of a local menu for a fish-and-chips restaurant.

  Miriam put the car seat down on the counter and fiddled with the buckles until she could lift the baby free and snuggle the little one close against her. The baby wriggled with a surprising amount of strength, and Miriam smoothed a hand over the downy, dark brown hair that covered the child’s soft head. Zaac snatched up the note and smoothed it.

  “It says, ‘I can’t take care of her. Her name is Ivy. Please be kind to her. I can’t be her mother…’” Zaac read, and his gaze flickered up at her uncomfortably.

  Had that been the car that had driven off? Miriam carried the baby back to the window and looked out. It was hard to see anything through the downpour.

  “Is there a bottle or anything?” Miriam asked. The crying baby needed something in her stomach. Someone had dropped her off hungry? Who would do that?

  They both looked around, but there was nothing—no bottle, no diapers. Miriam set the baby up on her shoulder and gently tapped her back, but little Ivy pulled her knees up and squirmed, turning her face toward Miriam’s neck—a sure and certain sign of hunger. Could she maybe give the baby some cream from the kitchen? But something inside her said no, that wouldn’t be the right choice.

  “She looks almost newborn,” Miriam said past the lump in her throat. “She’s smaller than my nephew when he was born, and he was just over six pounds.”

  Ivy was a tiny little thing, all arms and legs stretching out in frustration and a searching little mouth the size of a grape. Ivy scrunched her face up once more and started to cry all over again, her little chest heaving with each sucked-in breath. She cried as if she’d been crying for hours, and that thought gave Miriam’s heart a squeeze.

  “Okay…okay…” Zaac looked outside. “I’m going to run up to the police station. That’s probably our safest bet. You stay here with the baby, and I’ll be back.”

  Zaac pushed his hat firmly onto his head, grabbed his coat and pushed outside into the rain. The door shut with a bang.

  Miriam jiggled the baby gently against her chest, but Ivy cried on. Of all the nights for a tiny baby to arrive on the doorstep, this was the worst! Not only was it cold outside, but this was gearing up to be the worst storm in a long, long while.

  Miriam checked the baby’s diaper—which was mostly dry. She took a little bit of sugar on her finger and let the baby suck on it. She was hungry, and Miriam knew well enough not to give the infant straight cow’s milk. It wouldn’t be enough nutrition for her. But wasn’t something better th
an nothing? The baby’s cries had subsided, but she was sucking hungrily on the tip of Miriam’s finger, and everything inside Miriam longed to feed this little thing. In some aching part of her heart, it was like the baby she’d lost was finally in her arms.

  She couldn’t let herself feel this way!

  This wasn’t her baby. This was another woman’s baby, and that woman had abandoned her, hungry and crying, in the middle of a storm.

  Miriam carried Ivy into the back kitchen, where her fresh batch of sea-salt caramels waited under clean dish towels, and pulled out two thick kitchen towels. She threw the soiled blanket into a laundry hamper and wrapped little Ivy up in the clean towels, then headed back to the front of the store.

  The door opened again and Zaac came back inside, dripping water all over the floor.

  “They’re closed up tight!” he said. “They put a sign out that says to call 911 for emergencies. We’ll have to wait until after the storm. What do we do?”

  There was no telephone in the chocolate shop. Esther Mae had never installed one even though the bishop permitted it, preferring to take orders face to face.

  “I have baby supplies at home,” Miriam said.

  Zaac met her gaze, and he winced. For just a moment, she saw a flood of compassion in his eyes. “Right. Of course.”

  She’d been getting ready for her own child’s arrival a year ago and hadn’t relinquished any of the supplies she’d gathered. But more recently, she had been babysitting for her sister’s new baby boy. There was a can of newborn formula still in a cupboard. They had baby items enough.

  “Okay, then we’re set.” Zaac gave a curt not. “This isn’t against the law, is it? I mean…we’re not kidnapping or anything?”

  “The baby was dropped off on our doorstep, and we can’t contact the local police,” Miriam said. “What else are we supposed to do?”

  What did you do when an Englisher left a newborn baby on your doorstep—in the middle of a raging storm, no less?

  “I think you’re right,” he said. “After the storm you can contact the police, right? We aren’t getting to the bank for the deposit tonight either. Let’s just put the money under the counter. I’m sure Aent Esther Mae will understand.”

  “You don’t mind driving me home?” she asked. She’d planned to ask for a ride with a friend, but it would be better to have Zaac drive her.

  “Do you really think I’m the kind of man who’d leave you to figure out a ride home with a baby in your arms?”

  She wasn’t sure what she thought of him, except that he’d always seemed to be glaring at her before she married Elijah. “You’d best hitch up quickly, then,” Miriam said. “This baby needs to eat.”

  “I’ll be quick about it,” Zaac said.

  Ten minutes later, Zaac had his buggy in front of the store, and little Ivy was crying plaintively again, one thin arm waving around as if she could somehow find what she was looking for.

  Why had that mother simply left her newborn? Was she in trouble? Was she struggling with something like addiction and knew that her baby would be safer with another family? Miriam knew what it felt like to be a mother without a baby in her arms, and the tragedy of this situation was not lost on her. That mother would mourn this, one way or another. There was no way not to grieve the loss of a child. But one thing was clear—Ivy’s mother had given her up.

  “It’s okay, Ivy,” Miriam said softly, rocking the wailing baby back and forth. “I’ll take care of you. I’ve got you, sweetie.”

  And for the next little while, she did. She would stand in for Ivy’s mother until they could get her into loving, responsible arms again.

  Oh, Gott, let that be soon… Because she wasn’t sure how long her poor aching heart could take this.

  Miriam stood by the window and watched as Zaac jumped down from his buggy and came hurrying over to the front door. She stepped outside and hunched over the baby as a swirl of rain whipped around them. Zaac used Esther Mae’s keys to lock up, and then he opened up an umbrella and held it over Miriam’s head as they rushed toward the buggy.

  Zaac struggled with the umbrella against the gusting wind, and Miriam kept her head down. When they got to the buggy, Zaac put a strong hand under her elbow and helped boost her up. Her stomach fluttered at his strength. It brought too strong a reminder of Elijah, and Zaac’s disapproving look. Zaac closed the door after her, and she looked down at the baby’s scrunched little face. Ivy’s hair was dark and damp, and when she opened her eyes just a little, Miriam could make out their brilliant blue. She pressed a soft kiss against the baby girl’s forehead.

  “Gott, protect this baby,” Miriam prayed softly. “She needs you.”

  And may Gott speed this storm by.

  * * *

  Zaac climbed up in the driver’s seat of his buggy and slammed his door shut against the driving rain. He looked over at Miriam, her face flushed from the cold rain and the baby snuggled close against her chest, and his heart gave a tumble…just like it always did. She didn’t think too much of him, and maybe he understood that. He’d never thought his brother’s marriage was a good idea, and he’d even suggested that Elijah not marry her at all. He stood by that.

  But not because Miriam wasn’t wonderful. His brother hadn’t been worthy of her! Elijah wasn’t a reliable man, and wedding vows hadn’t changed a thing. Going out drinking with friends and driving his buggy while inebriated…that had been the cause of the buggy accident that killed Elijah and left Miriam a widow. And yet, for all Elijah’s flaws, he’d still been his little brother, and Zaac missed him.

  Zaac untied Schon’s reins and leaned forward to make sure the road was clear. Then he released the tension in the reins and Schon started forward, pulling them into the street. The gelding’s head was down against the driving rain, but he was strong and sure.

  “I doubt we can open the store again until this storm passes,” Zaac said, squinting against the rain-coated windshield. Sometimes there was a choice to make between staying dry with the sliding window shut and seeing the road with the window open.

  “Esther Mae normally stays closed during storms like this one,” Miriam replied. “She thinks it’s better to stay safe, and will be glad we left early. Besides, not many tourists will be out shopping during this kind of storm.”

  “Hmm.” He nodded. His aent was a good businesswoman. She’d been running this shop ever since her husband died, and that had been when Zaac was about five—young enough that he didn’t remember more than his first view of a coffin. So for all the time that Zaac could recall, Aent Esther Mae had been making her chocolates and selling them.

  “I’m really grateful you were here to drive us, but can I ask why you wanted to do this?” Miriam asked.

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “Run the shop,” she said. “You’ve never worked in the shop—not for years, at least.”

  He glanced over at Miriam. Even he knew that Miriam would have been a better choice than him for the job, but this had been a special favor.

  “I need the experience,” he replied. “I want to be able to apply for some ranch-managing positions.”

  He reined Schon in at a four-way stop and waited while a pickup truck passed in front of them. Then he released the reins again, and they started forward.

  “I thought if I could get some management experience, it might help me find some other work that would let me live on-site at a ranch. Aent Esther Mae was helping me get some more experience to help with that.”

  “Do you want to move away from home?” she asked.

  “Yah. I do.”

  “Won’t your mamm miss you?”

  “She has my sisters at home, and Johannes is helping on the ranch now. I know he and my sister would be happy to move in and take over the ranch if I wasn’t there to do it. Besides, if I make a good enough wage, I can send money back to her.”

  This was more than he’d admitted to anyone. Even Aent Esther Mae only knew that he wanted a better-paying job, not that he wanted to live away from home. There was more to his decision that he wasn’t ready to share yet.

  He glanced toward his late brother’s wife. She held the baby close, her cheek against the infant’s head. The baby was still crying, but less desperately. Miriam’s touch seemed to be comforting for the little thing. Miriam’s eyes suddenly misted, and Zaac’s heart clenched in response. She had gone through a lot in the last year, and he’d always felt this protective tenderness toward her…even when it hadn’t been appropriate. He still shouldered that guilt—another good reason to start over elsewhere. Because while his brother had been married to Miriam, Zaac had been harboring some very tender feelings for her, too. That hadn’t been right! He should never have allowed himself to feel more for Miriam than friendliness, but he could see a depth to Miriam’s character that his brother couldn’t. He could see her earnestness and her good intentions. And he could see when Elijah had hurt her feelings, too…