A Season of Love Read Online Free Page B

A Season of Love
Book: A Season of Love Read Online Free
Author: Amy Clipston
Tags: Fiction, Amish & Mennonite
Pages:
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“I’ll get it for you.”
    While she buttered another piece of bread, Lindsay thought back to her GED. Although she’d doubted herself at first, she’d studied and passed the test on her first try while she was staying with her aunt and uncle in Virginia Beach. She understood the baptism classes were more like lectures where the ministers spoke, and she wouldn’t have to study and take a test like she had for the GED. However, she knew the emotional impact of the baptism instruction would be just as taxing as the GED exam had been.
    After handing the bread to Emma, Lindsay looked back at her uncle.
    He lifted his coffee mug and nodded toward Lindsay. “You can do anything you set your mind to, Lindsay. You’re a very smart maedel. ”
    “Danki,” Lindsay said.
    A horn tooted outside, and Daniel hopped up from the table. “I have to run off to work.” After kissing the children’s heads, he fetched his lunch pail and hat before rushing toward the door. “See you tonight.”
    “Have a gut day.” Lindsay watched him disappear out the door, and she wondered if her uncle was right. Could Lindsay explain to the bishop why she wanted to be baptized with her friends, and would the bishop give her permission to make up the classes she’d missed?
    The following evening, Lindsay wiped down the counter and filled the sink with water after supper while Emma sat in her high chair and munched on a cookie. The clip-clop of hooves drew her eyes to the window above the sink where she spotted a horse drawing a buggy toward the barn.
    “I wonder who’s here to visit,” she said to Emma, who giggled in response. “We weren’t expecting anyone.”
    Lindsay scrubbed the dishes and placed them in the drain board before moving her eyes back to the window, where she spotted her uncle and Daniel Junior standing with Matthew by the buggy. She smiled, and her stomach flip-flopped. Had Matthew come to visit her, or her uncle? Or perhaps he wanted to see them both.
    “Matthew is here to see us, Emmy,” Lindsay said as she wiped her hands on a dishrag. “Do I look okay?” She touched her prayer covering, and Emma laughed. “I hope that means ya,” Lindsay muttered.
    She straightened the canisters on the counter and wiped a stray crumb into the sink before opening the refrigerator. She was searching for any leftover whoopie pies that Katie had mentioned bringing from the bakery after her mother stopped by last week. Lindsay knew whoopie pies were Matthew’s favorite treat, and she wanted to offer them to him if he came in to visit her.
    Finding no whoopie pies, she set the percolator on the stove for coffee and pulled a container full of peanut butter cookies from the cabinet. She was glad she’d decided to bake for thechildren earlier in the day and glad she had something to offer Matthew, even if it wasn’t whoopie pies. After placing mugs and the cookies on the table, she pulled two glasses from the cabinet.
    The back door opened, revealing Matthew clad in a brown shirt that seemed to make his brown eyes more golden than usual.
    “Wie geht’s,” he said as he stepped into the kitchen. He removed his straw hat, revealing a messy pile of dark brown curls. When Emma squealed, he laughed. “How are you, Emma?”
    “Matthew,” Lindsay said, smoothing her hands over her black apron. “What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing out this way?”
    “I needed to talk to Daniel about a work project and also needed to borrow some tools,” he said.
    “Why would you need to talk to him and borrow tools when you’ll see him tomorrow at the furniture store?” Lindsay eyed him with suspicion.
    Matthew grinned. “That was my excuse to come and see you.” He gestured toward the table. “May I visit with you for a few minutes?”
    “Ya.” Lindsay smiled.
    Matthew sat in front of her and talked to her cousin. “Is that a gut kichli , Emma?” He touched her arm. “Did you save one for me?” He glanced at the plate of cookies

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