Winter of Faith Collection Read online

  WINTER OF FAITH COLLECTION

  RACHEL STOLTZFUS

  Note: This book was previously released in 2014. The updated edition has been revised and edited with additional content added.

  Copyright © 2015 RACHEL STOLTZFUS

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1530142262

  ISBN-13: 978-1530142262

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  WINTER STORMS | CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TEST OF FAITH | CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE WEDDING SEASON | 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

  EPILOGUE

  FALSE WORSHIP – BOOK 1 | When Beth Zook's daed starts courting a widow with a mysterious past, will Beth uncover this new family's secrets before she loses everything?

  CHAPTER ONE

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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  Also By Rachel Stoltzfus

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  WINTER STORMS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TEST OF FAITH

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE WEDDING SEASON

  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

  EPILOGUE

  FALSE WORSHIP – BOOK 1

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I have to thank God first and foremost for the gift of my life and the life of my family. I also have to thank my family for putting up with my crazy hours and how stressed out I can get as I approach a deadline. In addition, I must thank the ladies at Global Grafx Press for working with me to help make my books the best they can be. And last, I thank you, for taking the time to read this book. God Bless!

  WINTER STORMS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Miriam Beiler shivered as she trotted towards the barn to help her daed with feeding the livestock and milking their cows. As she walked swiftly towards her goal, she buttoned her coat more securely around her pulling it up around her neck and cheeks until she entered the barn. She could see her breath in white, cloudy patches as she walked, and her hands ached slightly in spite of being covered. While she liked winter with all of its beauty and starkness, the cold against her face and the wind a bit chill, she didn’t care for it when it got this cold.

  “Good, daughter, you’re here. It’s cold, isn’t it?” Miriam’s father looked up smiling. Joseph Beiler had seen many winters in his day, each unique and different in many ways while in other ways exactly the same. The frigid air and unrelenting chill was one thing that he was very accustomed to, although as he aged parts of him withstood it without some pain and creaking. He didn’t mind, though. The simple lifestyle he led was enough for him, and his satisfaction with the health and well-being of his family always bolstered his faith in how God handled things correctly.

  “Ya, daed, it is. And it’s getting colder, and the wind is blowing harder, too,” Miriam said glancing outside as she grabbed a bucket for milking.

  “Ya, this winter will be a hard one. I can feel it in my arm,” Joseph said, massaging his left arm which he had hurt several years earlier in a carpentry accident. While the accident was long in the past, the pain and arthritis it wrought stayed with him still. He grimaced when he moved it.

  “Daed, ask mamm for something to wipe on your arm,” Miriam said. “You’re rubbing it again, so the cold and wind are really something fierce.”

  “Ya, denki, daughter. I will. Let’s get this work done so we can get into a warm house faster.”

  Miriam snuggled her cheek against the cow’s warm side and, after washing her bag of milk and teats, began pulling, coaxing the warm, foamy milk out. After they had milked all twelve of their cows, they fed and watered them, then began mucking out the stalls for their two horses. After feeding and watering them, Joseph closed the barn’s doors securely, keeping the warmth inside. Placing one hand on Miriam’s shoulder, he walked swiftly with her to the house. As they walked, Joseph looked around. Seeing a dark bank of clouds off in the distance, he stopped Miriam.

  “Miriam, look . . . to the north and east. See that dark line of clouds? We are in for a winter storm. A bad one,” he said, absently rubbing his arm again.

  “Daed, I’m worried. Tomorrow’s meeting day. What if it starts storming while everyone’s here?” Her father sometimes called her a worry-wart, and in some ways she agreed. So much had happened to her in her short life that she sometimes fought anxiety. Her daed said to pray for peace of mind, and many times those quiet reflections worked. But, not all the time. She looked at her father raising her eyebrows, tightening her mouth slightly giving her face a taut, rigid appearance.

  “All we can do is all we can do. That, and put our faith in the Lord. Ach, this wind is stiff, isn’t it? Let’s go . . . inside, where it’s warm and your mamm has a hot supper ready.” Still, he paused, disregarding his own words, silently measuring the falling temperature, the stiff wind and the clouds in the far-off distance.

  She had seen that look on his face before, right before a large storm came through. It seemed as though he could feel it coming even before it became a reality. Something in his bones told him, he would sometimes say. But most times he was silent, looking into the distance as if he could see and grasp the storm somehow. “It will be what it will be.” That was usually the end of what he would say about his weather feelings.

  ***

  At the Fisher farm, Samuel and John Fisher felt the same sharp cold and stiff winds as they finished their work day. Both men pulled their jackets closer around their bodies as they worked to feed their livestock.

  “Get the milk into the machine so we can get inside,” Samuel grunted against the cold. His stout frame had seen many a winter, but even with experience the cold was the cold. He pulled his hat down and pushed his scarf up raising his collar and burying his beard in the warm spot it
created. His cheeks and nose were red,

  “Daed, it’s gotten colder just since we came out here a few minutes ago. This won’t be a good winter, will it?” John usually wanted some kind prediction of things to come, and he always thought his father could provide it.

  “Nee, John, it won’t. It will be a very hard winter . . . very hard. Plan to do a lot of work inside here or inside the house – more than usual,” Samuel smiled at him. He was better at predicting coming weather than his son, but it was something he learned over time. Not to be in any way prideful; it was just an experience of things and the aches and pains that went with it.

  “Ya. It will be bad. Worse than last winter . . .” Plain living was the best kind of lifestyle around; it was not always easy, but it was pure. Weather changes like these simply tested your resolve, built character and made you strong. Even though the wind was biting it was also bracing, refreshing and clear. As things got colder, the warmth of the house and all of the hot foods served tasted even better. John loved the cold weather and the challenges it brought with it. Anyone could be inspired to work in the spring when the fields were alive and the breezes warm. It was in the winter months when things were harsher, that character was built and bodies were made strong against the elements.

  “Don’t forget, son, last winter, and the two before that were all mild for this area. We got snow, but the winds and cold didn’t start this early. It’s barely November,” Samuel interrupted his reverie. John marveled at his father’s strength; he had endured the winters for years like they were nothing to withstand. He had grown up, grown rock-solid and stood tall against the weather. John wished himself as strong when he reached his father’s age.

  ***

  Joseph and Miriam continued talking as they trotted toward the warmth of the Beiler kitchen. “I just hope the storm holds off until services are over and everyone has returned home”. Miriam’s father took in the site of the other men unloading frowning slightly. He changed course heading towards the men working. “Ach, tell your mamm that the men are here to help unload the benches and arrange them. Start supper without me, and I’ll be inside before too long,”

  “I will. Denki,” Miriam said, hurrying past him and inside their house. She stopped, waved and smiled after her father’s disappearing form. She knew he was tired and that his arm was sore, but he would never shirk his duty to work, not even when the weather was cold or if his joints were aching. She would make sure that mamm had that rub ready when he came in so that he could relieve the soreness in his arm and sit down to a nice hot meal and a bit of relaxation.

  Joseph returned to the barn to help three other men begin removing the long, wooden benches from the back of the wagon. “Wait. It’s getting much too cold. Let’s arrange these in the house. We have the space. No sense in having service outside if it’s going to be this cold,”

  They reloaded what had been unloaded and moved the wagon to the front of the house. They removed the benches and took them inside, positioning them in several rooms inside the sprawling Beiler home. By the time they finished, benches filled the living room, quilting room and the length of the long hallway.

  “Miriam told me it’s getting pretty cold out there. I’m glad we rearranged furniture when we cleaned,” Sarah Beiler gestured towards the table inviting them to sit and eat.. “Sit down while the food’s still hot. Come on, there’s enough for everyone,” My mother generally cooked enough should company come, and her meals were well known for being some of the best in our community. As a result, it didn’t take much convincing to get the men to sit down to eat.

  When they were done, Miriam busied herself cleaning up while her father bid the others a good night. “Denki, for your help. We will see you bright and early tomorrow!” Everyone left smiling, pulling their jackets close together for the long, cold trip home. They lowered their hats against the wind, smiling as they left.

  ***

  Early the following day, Miriam arranged her light-brown hair neatly, pinning it into a bun at the back of her head. Smoothing strands of hair back, she set her black prayer kapp on her head. Looking down at her dress and snowy-white apron, she made sure she was neat and presentable. Satisfied, she ran downstairs to help her mamm with a hot breakfast. After they had eaten and washed dishes, she and Sarah rearranged the large countertop and refrigerator. Sarah turned the gas oven on so the hot foods could stay warm as families brought them inside.

  Miriam, hearing knocks at the front door, ran to start welcoming families inside, directing the wives and girls to put their lunch contributions in the kitchen.

  In the kitchen, Sarah was doing the same. She paused as she saw 14-year-old Hannah Miller walk slowly into the house – Hannah’s cheeks were flushed with more than the cold outside, and her eyes were glassy. Sarah shot a sharp look at Hannah’s mother, Mary.

  “Is Hannah ill?” she asked Mary.

  “Ya, but it’s only a cold. She told me she feels well enough to be here,” Mary responded, taking her long scarf from around her neck.

  “I hope you’re right – that looks like more than just a cold,” Sarah replied quietly.

  As the two women talked, Hannah sat listlessly on a bench in the hallway. Sarah glanced at her, noting her drooped head and slumped posture. Her eyes sharpened when she saw Hannah jump from the bench and run to the bathroom.

  This is more than a cold. I hope it’s not the flu.

  By the time Hannah returned to the bench, Bishop Stolzfus had begun the service delivering the day’s lesson in a sing-song High German dialect.

  Sarah, hearing Hannah’s dry cough, sighed. “Hannah, sit here. You don’t want to make anyone else ill.” She directed the girl to a kitchen chair she turned around. Hannah seemed grateful for the chair with a back, and she sank into it gratefully. Sarah got her some tea with honey and sat down next to her. Hannah had always been a sunny, happy child; now, she seemed almost a ghost, a waif who didn’t speak. Her only sounds were the hacking cough muffled by her hand covering her mouth. The light and sparkle in her gaze was gone, and she looked at Sarah with blank, staring eyes that seemed almost out-of-focus.

  “Is everything all right at your home.” Sarah placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s knee. “Can I do something for you?” The girl’s eyes widened, her eyebrows going up in surprise, and if Sarah wasn’t mistaken, fear. Her eyes drifted into the gathering area where her husband was sitting, eyes locking on and staring at him. She opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, then closed them shaking her head quickly back and forth in the negative. She lowered her head taking another sip of tea.

  “If you need anything at all, just let me know. I will always be here for you.” Sarah didn’t know why she said that to the girl, but she felt compelled to say it.

  “Denki.” Sarah barely heard her reply; it was so soft.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Rachel Zook, hearing Sarah’s quiet words, looked at Hannah, then at her son, Adam. Worry filled her eyes. Adam had been diagnosed with asthma two years earlier and she had been told to keep him from others who were sick with colds and flu, which could be worse for him. Seeking and finding her husband on the men’s benches, she kept looking at him until he felt her gaze. When he turned around, she silently motioned that she was sending Adam to sit with him. Michael quickly spotted the reason for Rachel’s look of worry. He nodded and motioned Adam to sit with him.

  After the day’s message had been given, along with several announcements, the meeting finally ended. Several men rearranged the benches, creating picnic benches with long tables that had been set in the kitchen entryway.

  The women glanced at each other, talking about the coming storm. They were glancing outside, seeing the dark-gray clouds, heavy with snow as they raced to cover the pale-blue sky.

  “Let’s hurry and serve everyone – it wouldn’t do to have anyone outside when this storm hits,” Sarah said briskly.

  The women arranged themselves so they could move platters to the long tables. The f
irst shift, composed of the oldest members of the community and the men, sat down, dishing up their plates. When they were done, girls collected dirty plates, glasses, cups and silver, setting out clean ones. Children sat down next.

  Sarah looked outside and her heart stilled – it was snowing heavily. Looking for Joseph, she motioned to the kitchen window with her eyes. He saw what she was telling him.

  Finally, the women were able to sit down. Eating quickly, they moved as one into the kitchen so they could wash platters, serving dishes and dishes. Sarah glanced outside once more – this was no good. The storm was even heavier now, and the wind was picking up. Squinting, she tried to spot the carpentry shop – all she could see was a faint outline of one corner. She stopped breathing momentarily as a sharp gust of wind took the snowflakes, moving them horizontally.

  “Sarah, Bishop Stoltzfus wants to talk to us,” Joseph said quietly into Sarah’s ear.

  Sarah motioned to Miriam to take her place then followed Joseph into the cold entryway.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Beiler, I am worried about allowing anyone to drive home in this storm. It’s too dangerous. Horses could go snow-blind and go off the road,” said the bishop.

  “Bishop, we can put everyone up here,” Joseph offered. “We have enough room – we might need blankets, though, but if we double families, with women and children upstairs and men downstairs, we could do it.”

  “Ya, we would need more blankets. We have seven bedrooms,” Sarah said.

  “That’s settled, then. Denki. There is no sense, allowing families to travel in this blizzard. I will tell everyone,” the bishop said.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sarah turned her head sharply, seeing Hannah bolt up from her chair once again. Following her to the downstairs bathroom, she grimaced as she heard the sounds of Hannah’s vomiting behind the locked door. She decided to wait until Hannah emerged.

  “Mamm? Is that Hannah Miller in there? She didn’t look good at all this morning. The only time she perked up was when she saw Joshua Lapp walk in with his family,” Miriam said.