The Harvest of Grace Read Online Free PDF

he would.
    A shadow glided under the crack of the doorway and stopped. Her heart pounded. A moment later the shadow disappeared. The familiar screech of the back door opening and then shutting said he’d gone to the barn. She had to join him. He had no other help, not with her Daed, Mamm, and most of her siblings down with whooping cough.
    Years of avoiding him, of working opposite milking shifts, had come to an abrupt halt with this illness.

    She went to the dresser, lit a kerosene lantern, and pulled out a newspaper ad she’d clipped a month ago. The ad was for help on a dairy farm belonging to an Amish man named Michael Blank, who lived in Dry Lake, a couple of hours southeast of here. Far enough away that she’d never have to see Elam unless she came home for a visit.
    She’d shown the ad to her Daed, hoping to convince him to let her go. But he’d bristled at the idea and said he didn’t want to hear anything else about it.
    He’d never let an unmarried daughter move away from home, and she’d dropped it. But now she clung to the idea of leaving as if it were her only chance of escaping temptation. And maybe it was.
    Daed had kept his word, and over the past three years, she’d visited relatives whenever time allowed. She’d gone to singings and dated men from across four states, and not one of them interested her. What was her problem?
    Whatever it was, she had to get out of here.
    After this time with Elam, living in the main house with her parents would no longer be a sufficient barrier between them. Living a few miles away with a relative wasn’t good enough either. She’d still see Elam at church meetings, community functions, and family gatherings.
    She peeled out of her nightgown, convincing herself that in spite of whatever had stirred between them last night, today was just another day of farm work and babies. She dressed for morning chores, then quietly opened the bedroom door, went to the mud room, and put on her boots, coat, and hat before heading for the barn.
    Cold winter air filled her lungs. The sky’s dark majesty sparkled with dots of white light, as if trying to assure her that its vastness covered more than her problems.
    As she drew closer to the barn, she heard the faint sounds of Elam moving through the morning routine. Bracing herself, she went inside.
    “ Guder Marye , Sylvia.”

    She nodded in response to his softly spoken good morning , refusing to get pulled into a conversation. If talking could milk cows, he’d never need anyone’s help.
    She moved toward the wheelbarrow of silage, feeling his eyes on her. Don’t look. Just don’t .
    Her eyes moved to his, and she felt caught.
    He’s forbidden . She didn’t need the reminder, but the phrase ran circles in her mind.
    After filling the troughs with feed, he opened the gate, and the cows nearly stampeded into the milking stalls. As soon as the cows put their heads through the stanchions, she began locking the panels. He grabbed the nozzle of the hose that hung overhead through an elaborate scheme of cables and pulleys and squirted the cows’ udders.
    “Hey, Sylvia.”
    She finished locking the devices and grabbed the milking stool. A diesel engine in the milk house ran the refrigerator for the bulk tank and powered the air compressor for the portable milkers, but she had to start the milk flowing from each cow before the machinery could do its job.
    “You okay?” Elam asked.
    “I’m not getting sick, but I can’t say I’m okay.”
    “Ya, I know. Me either. Just don’t be mad.”
    She wasn’t angry. Terrified, maybe. Definitely overloaded with guilt. But too confused about herself to be angry with him.
    After she cleaned and primed the first cow, Elam moved next to her with the claw milker and its attached bucket. She tried to get up, grab the stool, and move out of the way before he got too close, but instead she managed to trip into him.
    He steadied her, his eyes never leaving hers.
    With confusion and desire