The Wonder of Your Love - By Beth Wiseman Page 0,2

the bunch. He grinned as he knocked on the door, knowing he wouldn’t have changed anything about his children or his life—except for that one dreary day in November seventeen years ago, the day he lost his beloved Sarah. She’d been his one and only true love, and not a day went by that he didn’t think about her. No woman had even sparked his interest since then, despite the many attempts by family and friends to fix him up. It was the Amish way to remarry quickly following the death of a spouse, and he had to admit he could have used the help. He’d had a few random dates, but there hadn’t been anyone who could hold a candle to his Sarah.

“Eli! It’s so gut to see you.” His cousin’s wife wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Gut to be here, Vera,” he said as he returned her embrace. “Hard to believe it’s been over a year.”

Vera stepped aside so he could enter, and the warmth of a glowing fire met him as he stepped into their living room. His eyes scanned the room. He saw his cousin Elam and two of their four children, Betsy and Levi. He knew Elam and Vera’s third child, Jacob, had married last fall and was living in his own home with his wife, Beth Ann. Eli regretted not being able to attend the boy’s wedding, but the weather had kept his family away last year. After he said his hellos to all of them, they all turned their attention to the stairs and watched Emily come down. A year had made quite a difference. Elam and Vera’s daughter looked . . . happy. And as her face lit up, Eli recalled everything that the girl had been through. It was a true blessing to be here for her wedding.

“You look so schee, Emily,” he said as he hugged her.

“Danki so much for coming, Onkel Eli.”

Elam’s kinner had always called him uncle, even though he was really their cousin.

“I wouldn’t have missed it, mei maedel.” He eased away and found Vera. “Now, Vera, don’t let me be in the way. I remember with mei dochders’ weddings, it’s a busy time. So you just put me to work wherever I’m needed.”

Vera dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. “You must be tired from your travels, and really, I think everything is about ready. We’ve had people helping us all day. We’ll be up early in the morning to start warming food and to finish setting up the chairs. You can help then.”

She sat down in one of the rocking chairs facing a tan couch on the opposite wall, motioning for him to sit as well. “Everyone else from Middlefield is staying at the local bed-and-breakfasts since this house isn’t nearly as big as we were used to back home. They were all here earlier helping, but you probably won’t see them all until mariyefrieh.”

Tomorrow morning was fine by Eli. He was weary from travel, and just chatting with his cousin’s family would be plenty for this evening. He nodded, and a moment later Betsy walked up to him, toting a book under her arm. “Hello, Betsy. You’ve turned eight years old since moving here, haven’t you?”

A strand of curly blond hair fell from beneath her kapp as she nodded. “Ya.” She cocked her head to one side and stared at him.

Eli knew from past experience that there was no telling what might come out of Betsy’s mouth. He braced himself.

“Mamm doesn’t understand why a handsome man like you doesn’t have a fraa.”

“Betsy!” Vera covered her eyes with her hand as a rosy blush filled her cheeks. “Excuse Betsy, Eli.” Then she glared at her daughter, but Eli just grinned.

“Because I just haven’t found anyone as pretty as you,” he said. Then he tickled her, and she squealed until he released her.

When someone knocked at the door, Vera stood up and eased her way across the living room. Cousin Elam moseyed to the fireplace and stoked the dwindling fire until orange sparks shimmied upward, then he gave the logs a few more pokes until the flames stretched high.

Eli leaned back against the couch and crossed one ankle over his knee. He stroked his beard as he thought about how long he might stay in Colorado. This was his first trip, there’d be much to see, and he didn’t have to rush home to tend to one single thing. A vacation. His daughters had