The Preacher's Daughter by Beverly Lewis Read Free Book Online Page A

had been totally in the dark. ‘‘No . . . don’t you see? Our beginning was a fraud,’’ she whispered, blinking back tears.
    He set down his glass. ‘‘What’s the difference how it started? What matters is how it ends.’’ His tone was one of impatience now.
    How it ends . The words rang hollow and prophetic.
    â€˜â€˜It matters to me, ’’ she said.
    â€˜â€˜You’re making too much of this.’’
    She couldn’t help it . . . she thought of her first boyfriend, a man a few years older whom she’d met at the start of her junior year—an art fanatic like her. Trey Douglas had loved her for who she was. But the timing was all off for them. She should have followed him to London. Instead, she’d fallen prey to her own father’s misguided scheme.
    She shook her head. ‘‘No, Michael! I don’t want any part of this. I thought you loved me, no strings attached. I had no idea this was part of someone’s plan to manipulate us. The whole thing is messed up.’’ She rose and hurried down the short hall to her bedroom and closed the door.
    â€˜â€˜Louisa, baby . . . wait! Let’s talk this out.’’
    â€˜â€˜I’ve heard enough.’’ She locked the door, leaning her head against it, clutching her aching throat.
    Even in spite of his repeated knocking and calling to her, she simply could not bring herself to open the door. It would break her heart even more to look into his face.
    All a charade!

Chapter 5
    S aturday’s corn-husking bee at Deacon Byler’s farm was off to a grand start, even though neither the shucking of ears of corn nor the stacking of stalks had begun. Young people, and a few married chaperones, were arriving, and already dozens of buggies were lined up in a row, parked along the side yard.
    Annie and her sister-in-law Sarah Mae worked together, straining their fingers to unhitch Dolly from the enclosed family carriage. Pretty soon, Obed, one of Deacon Byler’s sons, walked over and helped finish the task. That done, he led the horse up to the barn, where he would water and feed each of the driving horses stabled there.
    â€˜â€˜Denki, Obie,’’ called Annie.
    Suddenly she spotted Rudy Esh and several other fellows standing near the woodshed. Ach, he’s here! She quickly looked away. Her hands grew clammy, and a sickening lump formed in the pit of her stomach.
    I should’ve stayed home!
    If he happened to take Susie Yoder home in his buggy later, it would do her in but good. She’d never actually seen them sitting side-by-side in Rudy’s open carriage, and she didn’t want to start now.
    Rejecting the urge to wallow in self-pity, she found the courage to walk with her head high. I’m not ashamed. I’ve done nothing wrong . But she knew for certain she had, for her fondness for art had come between her and Rudy. Her paintings and drawings were a result of doing what she believed the Lord God had somehow implanted in her heart. I paint the beauty I see around me. How can that be wrong? Yet it was, according to the rules of their Ordnung, which governed much of their lives.
    When she got to the house, she discovered a whole group of girls—mostly courting age—gathered in the kitchen. Some were pouring cold apple cider into paper cups; others were arranging cups on large trays.
    â€˜â€˜Hullo, Annie!’’ Deacon Byler’s wife, Kate, called to her. ‘‘I heard tell your wailin’ peacocks kept your neighbor, David Lapp, up all hours last night.’’
    â€˜â€˜Well, I heard nothing once I fell asleep,’’ Annie replied.
    This brought a wave of laughter.
    â€˜â€˜Must be mating season, jah?’’ one of the older girls said, and they fell silent, followed by a few snickers. ‘‘Them peacocks can yowl worse than an infuriated cat, I daresay.’’
    â€˜â€˜And