Lancaster Amish Lies: The Lancaster Amish Juggler Series, #2

By Rebecca Price

Can Hannah, through faith, mend her broken family without sacrificing her own fragile chance at love?

Hannah and Abram Schroeder are forever relegated to play second fiddle to their older, cherished sister Rebecca. Abram escapes through learning to juggle, while Hannah’s peace comes only through baking her special pies, which she and her brother sell at the local market. But when Hannah finds love and starts courting against her parents’ wishes, a terrible secret is brought to light, setting her on a collision course that will change all of their lives forever. Can Hannah, through faith, mend her broken family without sacrificing her own fragile chance at love?

Find out in Book 2 of the Lancaster Amish Juggler series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Global Grafx Press
• Release date: Dec 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501403217

Book preview

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CHAPTER ONE

My Daed is furious, not even touching his roasted chicken.  Mamm sits quietly, while Rebecca quietly fumes.  Abram is quiet too, but at least he’s not quietly hating me.

What is the matter with you? Daed asks me.  Your sister is to be first married, you know this!

I know you want it to be that way, I say, hardly recognizing my own voice.  I guess I’ve been sitting quietly long enough.  Suddenly, whatever force or pressure that’s been keeping me quiet, just isn’t as powerful as it used to be.

Or perhaps I’m becoming more powerful than it.  Either way, there doesn’t seem much chance of turning back now, as the hard, hateful glare on my daed’s face is telling me.

Daed says, Your sister is the firstborn, she’s the pride of this family!

Doesn’t pride come before a fall? I ask, not really a question.

Hannah, hold your tongue, Mamm says.

All I did was meet a boy; that was bound to happen eventually, despite your best efforts...

Mamm repeats, Hannah!

But I ignore her: And if it so happens that I marry before Rebecca does, what’s so wrong with that?

It’s not what God wants, Daed says.

How do you know that, Daed?  Maybe you’ve been fighting God all this time, and you didn’t even know it.

How dare you? my daed insists.

How dare you?! I respond.

For you to bring that boy here was an insult to your sister, and to this whole family.

I didn’t bring him here, Daed, he just showed up.

I saw you in his arms, Mamm says, her voice low and cruel.  He didn’t just show up from out of nowhere.

Well, I...  Words fail me, because what my mother is saying is true.  But it doesn’t put me in the wrong.  Does she think I was just going to let some stranger take off his shirt, do my chores, and then fall into his arms?

Yes, she does.  That’s how little she thinks of me, I realize.  That’s the daughter she thinks she’s raised.  That’s the person they all think I am.

I look at Abram, who looks back at me with a sympathetic half-smile.  He says nothing.  He doesn’t need to.

Smart kid.

So I follow his lead.  What benefit can there be to fighting my parents, now, here?  They think what they want to think; I know now and have always known, there’s nothing I can do about that.

But my parents don’t see the wisdom of my position.  And what kind of example are you setting for your kid brother? Daed asks me, also not really a question.

It’s a judgment.

He goes on, No wonder the boy’s become such a misfit.  I heard about what happened at the grocery store.

And that’s my fault? I ask, by no means a question.  If you raised him yourself instead of blaming me...

Oh stop it, Hannah!  I’m not surprised to hear it, but I am surprised to hear it coming from Rebecca, who hardly ever spoke, and never spoke out.  Her voice is unfamiliar in its screeching fury.  Look at what you’re doing to this family!

Me? I’m too shocked to say.

But I don’t have the chance, because Rebecca is already stomping away from the kitchen table and toward her room, leaving the stunned silence in her wake.  I can only sit under the accusatory stares of my parents, my guts turning with nervous nausea.

Mamm stands up to follow Rebecca, as always.

No, I say to myself, not this time.

So I spring up, and trot across the kitchen behind my sister.  I ignore my father saying, Don’t you leave this table without excusing yourself, young lady!

I have bigger things to worry about.

I knock and enter, without being invited, closing the door behind me.  Rebecca’s eyes shoot daggers at me, and I feel them cutting into my soul.  How could you? she growls at me.

Rebecca, I...it’s not about you.  I met a boy, it’s not my fault.

But I was supposed to be first! she says.

I’m sorry, but you’re not going to be.  Does it matter that much; is it that important?  I mean, who really cares who marries first?

Tears stream down her face, promising, or threatening, a storm to come, the cusp of an emotional hurricane.  I was first, that’s who I was, that’s who I am.  Don’t you know how many boys I liked that I had to sacrifice because of Daed, insisting that they weren’t good enough?  I liked Samuel, I liked George.

But that’s not my fault, Rebecca.  I think you’re right, let’s go to him together, explain that he’s smothering you, preventing you from...

I can’t do that, Hannah, I’d never do that!  Daed dedicated his life to me; I’m not just going to turn against him!  How dare you even suggest such a thing?  You see?  Do you see who you really are now?  You only care about one person, and that’s yourself.

Really?  What about Abram, the kid brother you never speak to?

Because you keep coming between us!

You can’t really mean that, I say, disbelief ripe in the crackle of my own voice. 

But that hateful stare tells me different, something I’d never wanted to believe, but now really can no longer deny.

These people hate me.  I’m their daughter and kid sister.  I spent a lifetime being quiet and subservient, doing chores, staying out of the way, asking for little and getting less, dutifully raising Abram, practically single-handedly, because they