Amish The Sweet Cloud: A Collection of Clean Amish Romance Short Stories

By Laurie Bass

Collection of 1 Amish romance novel and 3 Amish romance short stories or over 80k words of reading!

 

Heart Notes– Clean Amish and Billionaire Romance Novel

Between Two Worlds –Amish and Woodcutter Romance

Fire in the Heart - Clean Amish and Firefighter Romance

The World Outside –Amish and Biker Romance

 

This collection contains standalone romance short stories ending HEA

• Language: English
• Publisher: PN.Books
• Release date: Jun 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393840619

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Laurie Bass (Editor)

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Some characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Thank you very much for reading this book.

Title Page

Title: Amish The Sweet Cloud

Subtitle: A Collection of Clean Amish Romance Short Stories

Editor: Laurie Bass

Table of Contents

Copyright

Title Page

Heart Notes

Between Two Worlds

Fire in the Heart

The World Outside

Heart Notes

Description

Sara is a young Amish girl of 22 who thinks she’s found the man she should marry. Her family likes him, and she can see the path already set ahead of her.  Sara’s rumspringa starts, and with a translating job in a company with a young boss, she finds herself lost. So much can’t go home with her, including a piano that she learns to play like her life depends on it. Her boss, a young billionaire who runs his own company, is kind and smart and she learns a lot about herself in getting to know him. When she goes home for her niece’s birth, the Amish man she initially thought she could love proposes to her.

Now, back in the English world for the last few weeks, she had to decide if she wants to stick to tradition, or if she will abandon it all for a man and instrument through which she’s learned to love herself.

Chapter 1

The second time Thomas offered to drive me home from church in his family’s buggy, I was at a loss for words.  The late summer sun was bright above us, shining in his auburn brown hair.  I looked to my parents for guidance, and they nodded their approval.

It’s not that I didn’t want to ride with him, I was just nervous and flustered.

Why would he want me at his side again?

He was good looking, a thick jaw, and a good build that showed he’d toiled away on his family’s dairy farm for the whole twenty one years of his life.  His family had money, security, he could have asked any girl to let him drive them.

He chose me, twice in a row.

The first time I thought it was a fluke.

I didn’t let myself put much thought into it.  We spoke simply, of small things and life in general.  He mentioned a cow that had birthed late in the season, I spoke of my sister’s wedding.

By the time we got home, my parents had gotten there before us.  He said goodbye, and helped me down with his hands on mine.  I’m not sure I breathed for the rest of the night, my face was hot and I was sure redder than blood.

I never expected him to ask again.

That would be kind of you, I agreed.

A slight breeze grazed my heated face, and I hoped he wouldn’t notice how frazzled and embarrassed I felt.  Stepping up onto the buggy, I kept my hands folded in my laps and tried not to look over at him.  Modesty was key.  The youngest of my older sisters once told me that she was able to get her husband to fall for her without ever even saying a word to him the first few times they were together in public.

I couldn’t imagine having that pull on someone.

He patted his horse’s flank as he climbed up into his side of the buggy, and urged it to move.

The buggy jolted a little, almost throwing me forward.  My hands immediately left my lap, slipping to the edge of the bench beneath me.  Glancing over at my parents, I noticed my mother smiling and waving at me.

Humiliating!

My father said he heard from yours that you’re leaving for your rumspringa soon, he said.  His voice was deep, his tone flat and comfortable.  Still embarrassed by my mother, I could feel my cheeks turn pinker.

I leave tomorrow morning, I confirmed.

I was trying not to think about it.

The idea of leaving it all behind, the life I’d grown up in and loved, even if it was just for a couple months was terrifying.  I had hints of what the English world looked like, mostly through my father’s employee, and from one or two trips out, but the thought of moving there terrifies me.

Yours was last year, is that right? I guessed.  He was just a year older than me, it made sense.  Despite the fact that we went to school together until I was thirteen, I really didn’t know much of anything about him.

It was, he nodded.

I wished he’d tell me what it was like, what gave him the reason to stay, how he fared.  I knew he couldn’t.  It wasn’t my business to know, and it would be inappropriate for him to tell me.

Rumspringa was a time when you get to witness lots of temptations of the world.

It is to let you see clearly, what’s out there, so that when you make the decision to stay home with your family, you have all of the information available.  It’s holy, more of a sacrifice, when you see the temptations of the world and still choose God over all of it.

I’m sorry to see you go, he said simply.

My heart raced a little faster at the admission.  It wasn’t much, but it was enough information to let me know how he felt about me.

He actually liked me, was interested in me.

Our fathers were good friends, they spoke all the time.  His family supplied mine with any dairy product we needed, and my family in turn, built most of the furniture his family used.

We’d be a good match.

I suddenly felt lightheaded.

I was getting ahead of myself, thinking of things long before they should even be considered.  I could see myself marrying Thomas.  I could see us having children together, me learning how to help on the dairy farm while he slowly grew a beard for our children to tug on.

I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I wrote to you,  from the corner of my eyes, I could see him look over as he asked.  My eyes were still straight ahead, worried that my face might betray what I was thinking and feeling.

I would like that, I replied.  I’ll try to reply when I can, if your mother passes the letters on to my mother she’ll make sure they get to me, I explained.  It wouldn’t be decent to give him my address in the English world.  I wouldn’t want to tempt him that way.

I’ll be sure to, his voice had a smile in it.

Did he really feel so warmly towards me?

My sister is due soon, so I’ll hopefully come back sooner to meet the little one, I added.  Two months wasn’t that long in the grand scheme of things, but I suddenly didn’t want to leave.  I would have stayed forever on his buggy if I could have.

Unfortunately, we arrived to my home.

My parents weren’t home yet, but I knew they weren’t far behind.

Thank you for delivering me safely, I smiled.  Finally looking him in the eyes, my heart skipped at how he was looking at me.  Like a puppy who was offered a treat.

Reaching out, slow enough so that I could have stopped him if I really wanted to, he took my left hand and squeezed it just a little.

Please be safe out there, I can’t wait for your return, he said.

Thank you, I will, I answered quickly.

He let go of my hand, our fingertips brushing as our hands slid apart, and I almost fell stepping down from the buggy.  Before he was entirely out of sight, riding off to his own home, my parents were within view.

I couldn’t believe he was so bold!

What if they’d seen?

It was just a brush of the fingers, a friendly gesture, but I felt like I was melting.

My mother found me in my room, packing my clothes.  I had put it off until now, just 15 hours before I had to leave, but it wasn’t like I had much to pack.  A couple of church dresses, a few personal belongings to remember my family by, and a bible in the old language to remember my God by.

Are you almost ready? she asked.

Sadly.

This will be good for you.

I don’t know if I can stand the time away from Thomas, I admitted.  My face felt red hot from being so honest, but I kept no secrets from my mother.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, my little bird, when it’s short times like this, she offered.

I don’t know if my heart can grow any fonder, I sighed.  Sitting down on my bed, I pat it and she sat beside me.

You have to go, if you haven’t been tested, you can’t say you have overcome sin for the church.

Isn’t just deciding not to go overcoming it? I pleaded.

You’re the youngest of my children, if I could keep you here forever I would, she reminded me.

I know, I laughed.  I just don’t want to miss out on anything while I’m gone, I said.

You won’t, when Beth gives birth, we’ll send for you, she patted my hand.  It just reminded me of how my heart skipped when Thomas did the same thing, and I felt like crying.  Life moves so much quicker out there than it does here, you’re going to experience so much and when you get back you would have missed nothing.

Leaning over, she hugged me tightly.

It gives me such peace to know how eager you are to return home to me though, she offered.  I can’t wait, how proud I’ll be when all six of my children are confirmed by the church, her eyes were getting wet and I wanted to wipe her tears.

I know mother, I laughed but I could feel my own eyes watering.

You’re so loved, she hugged me tight.  "You’re on the cusp of so much in your life, I know you’ll come out better on the other side.

The next morning came far too soon.

It was nearly seven and the sun was just above the horizon, bright and yellow.

The air was filled with possibilities.

My father took me, and my luggage, in his buggy to the edge of our village where small blue truck was waiting for us, and I recognized it immediately.

Amelio! My father crowed.

He only acted this excited for Amelio.

This little blue truck traveled back and forth between our town and the English, making deliveries of furniture to the store front, and to customers.  My father employed him, paid him for his time, and yet saw him as almost a brother.  Even with other Amish folks, he doesn’t get this excited.

There she is! Amelio said excitedly.

I nodded, never sure how to react around him.

Your father told me what today was, so I’m volunteering my services, he explained.  Whenever you need a ride in or out of town, I’m your guy, he explained.

He did this for my other siblings as well, and somehow he was acting like this was the first time.

It was strange to be made a big deal of, but I didn’t hate it.

They gathered my things up into his truck, and I sat in the back while my father gave him the address.

If you ever need anything, please call Amelio so he can tell us, my father sternly told me.  I don’t care what it is, if you are in trouble or danger, or lost, call him, my father’s voice was deadly serious.  He’d have to be serious to tell me to call an English man’s number.

Yes father, I agreed.

Reaching in through the window, he squeezed my shoulder.  His eyes seemed wet, and I remembered being teased by my siblings as a child for being his favorite.

Now I was grown.

A woman of 21, about to leave for a world that I’d never been in besides in passing.

I love you father, I’ll write you, I said.

Now I was sure I could see tears in his eyes.

He nodded, his hat covering his eyes some, and started walking back to his buggy.  My heart felt heavy with love for my family, for my father, and for my community.  I hadn’t even left yet and I was already desperate to return.

I could see Thomas’s family’s farm as the car started.  It was the closest to the edge of town, since it called the most traffic, and I imagined him coming out to say goodbye.  I could picture it perfectly.

I didn’t want to leave him behind.

It’s selfish, I know, to hold a boy dearly in my heart when I knew there was no actual relationship between us.  Thomas had asked me to ride in his buggy home from church two Sundays in a row, that was it. True, there was something electric there, something that made me feel as eager to see him as a cat is to cream.  Those same kind eyes that my father had, and rough hands from working hard.

The warm sun on his face, his brown hair blowing around in the wind.

Would he have reached for my hand again?

In sight of other people?

I’m not sure I could have refused him at this point.

I wanted to kiss him.

He didn’t come into view though.

His farm, and all other farms and familiar sights, slipped away into fields of grain and open space.

My hair, tied loosely to the back, whipped around my face in the air from the speed of the buggy.  The air felt nice, cooling down my fevered skin.  I still was so easily embarrassed even thinking about Thomas.

Amelio had music pouring out of the speakers.

There was a piano, beautiful and light, with a man singing in a deep voice about love.  His tone almost perfectly matched the smoothness of the piano’s notes, and I let myself enjoy it.  I’d expected Amelio to be chatty, to try and talk to me through the ride, but it seemed like years of being around Amish folks allowed him a kind of understanding with us.

I appreciated that.

These two months would surely pass quickly.

The Braxtons, customers of my father’s woodworking, furnished their entire bed and breakfast with my family’s work.  They came back time and time again for a new piece.  When they bought their own condo, separate from their bed and breakfast, we furnished that as well.

My mother reached out to them almost a year before my rumspringa was scheduled, to ask if we could rent a room, or if I could stay for work, and they agreed.  My sisters had to stay in places with strangers during their rumspringas, having gone with groups of girls.  I was never sure where my brothers stayed for theirs, but I felt comforted that I’d be surrounded by my family’s work for the entirety of mine.

They would never be too far away.

I was eager to be of use, though.  I wanted to be sure they got their worth from letting me occupy one of their rooms.  Cleaning, working, all of that was familiar to me.

I could scrub the dirt out of the Earth itself, but I wasn’t sure of the random people who would be staying in the rooms.  I knew that this was to tempt me, to allow me to prove my devotion to my family and the church by returning.  It was only on me.

Yet, sleeping only a wall away from English folk I didn’t know was slightly terrifying.

What if they were bad people?

Not that I think the Braxtons would ever allow the worst into their home, I’m just worried.  But at least they’d be there with me.  They were a kind middle aged couple who’d  had dinner in my family home more than once.  They always paid my father well and on time, they never had a complaint.

I could do this.

It was all shaping up to maybe mean that I wouldn’t even have to leave the bed and breakfast except for errands.

That would be ideal, I could survive off that and avoid the horrors of the outer world.

The city began to rise up ahead.

It was abrupt, how it jutted out of the earth.  Gone were the open fields, the lazy cows and livestock enjoying the heat of the day.  In their stead were buildings made of such perfect glass that when they reflected the sky they almost seemed to vanish.

Traffic thickened like a clot until we were hardly moving.

I’d been in the city once before as a child, for just a day with my father, and it never failed to amaze me just how many people there were.  Where did they all go at night? I pictured them like chickens gone to roost, vanishing into their coops in piles for warmth.

Amelio spoke for the first time since we left.

You were told about crossing streets out here, right? he asked, turning his head as he spoke so as to be heard over the smooth music that was still playing.

Yes, I nodded.

I’d been given a crash course on the English world by my sisters.  They informed me on everything I needed to know, from vending machines to using the subway.  I couldn’t see myself using either of those, but I was thankful for everything they told me.

This is the place, Amelio said.  He pulled his truck up to the curb in front of the house and shut it off.

I was officially the furthest I’d ever been from my family, and I was terrified.

Chapter 2

Amelio helped me carry my things up the long stairway to th somehow e front door.

The bed and breakfast a tall and looming building.  It stood over the rest of the smaller houses and businesses on the block.  Still, it somehow looked older and more lived in.  I pressed the doorbell, the button smooth and cool under my nervous finger.  It sang out a tune of several electronic notes that seemed to echo through the two story building.  I stepped back from it a little, clutching my bag in my nervous fist, and waited.

A couple of moments passed, nothing, so I pressed it again.

How long is the right amount of time to wait?

They knew I was coming, right?

I turned back to look at Amelio, hoping he could tell me if I was doing something wrong.  His eyes were narrowed in either confusion or concentration.

Try it one more time, he instructed me.

What a sage advice.

I had hardly pressed the button a third time, when the door swung open.

Hi!  I’m so sorry, a young woman greeted me.

Her hair was pink!

She looked older than me, and yet had dyed her hair such an impossible color.

I’m Sara, here for the Braxtons, I explained.

This was the right address, right?

Oh!  Sara!

Reaching out, without any hesitation, she pulled me in for a hug.

I froze, in confusion and discomfort, and she must have noticed.

God, sorry, she backed away quickly.  I’m Lizzy, their daughter, do you remember playing with me as a kid?  she asked.

I could distantly remember the Braxtons bringing a girl with them a couple of times when I was really young, but the memories were faded and she was far older than me.

It’s okay if you don’t remember, she doubled back.  You must be Amelio! she waived to him.  I’ve got her from here, her father gave me your number in case of emergencies, she said.

She’d never met him before and she was so comfortable talking to him.

What kind of woman was this?

Amelio said a quick goodbye, and I was sad to see him go.  My last chance to just return home.  I’m sure if I begged him, he would have driven me back.  My father would have acted sore about it, but he would have been secretly pleased.

No, I couldn’t turn back.

The door stays unlocked from seven in the morning to eleven at night, she explained taking my bag for me. She led me into the house.  If someone staying is out after those hours, they’ll just need to use the key code provided to come in.

It was beautiful.

The floors were a polished stained dark wood, shining and leading my eyes straight to a tall spiral staircase.  From the outside I hadn’t noticed, maybe I was too distracted with nerves, but nearly every window was stained glass.  It lent the house an almost  dreamy look, bathing it in hues of blue and green.

This is the foyer, our guests are greeted here by me most days, if I’m unavailable we leave instructions in the site for how to access their suite, she explained.  Off to the left here, we have a sitting room, one of three, she led me over.

It was filled with my father’s furniture.

The tables and chairs, I could feel him in that room even though he was miles away.  In the corner, something stood out distinctly, it was not his work.  It drew my eye all the same.

Guests are allowed to play on this piano, we just ask that they do it at their own discretion, for the comfort of our other guests, she explained with a smile.  The music Amelio had been playing in the car ride over echoed in my mind.  The idea that someone could make that sound out of something like this was incredible.

For the first time since I left, I felt tempted.

Through here is another sitting room, it connects to the dining room so my parents call it the ‘digestion room’, Lizzy laughed.  I smiled politely, but was still in awe of these rooms.

It wasn’t that we lacked these things back home, but there was just so much here.

Everything was beautiful, delicate, pristine.

Some things, like a polished wood butter churn in the corner, has obviously never been used, it seemed to be there just to be admired, to fill a space.  I wondered why they would keep them to just look at them.  Paintings in each room had their own theme, and it all started to make more sense to me.

The first sitting room, the one I’d started to think of as the piano room, was filled with paintings and prints of lighthouses and ships.  We were almost as far inland as possible, but it suited it in a way.  The ‘digestion room’ had paintings of plants, to match the very real greenery that sat in its eastern wing facing windows.

The dining room was beautiful.

My father must have made this table before I was born or I’d remember it.

It could sit at least twenty people. It was made of rich deep dark wood, and had such a polished smooth surface it looked like it might have been made of glass.  It was my father’s work, though, I could recognize that instantly.

In cabinets sat beautiful dishes, on display, and glasses that caught every color that the light threw and reflected them brilliantly.  The paintings on the walls were of fields, flowers and greeneries, an extension of the theme in the digestion room, filling the room with color.  A large chandelier lit the room from its high ceiling, I was almost too nervous to stand near the table, should it fall.

One after the other, Lizzy led me through all the rooms of the first floor.  She explained the laundry machines to me, which excited me since it seemed it would take hours off my hands, and lastly, she showed me the kitchen.

The kitchen looked larger than some homes in my community.

Everything was made of