A Change of Heart

Chapter Three

LEAH WAITED UNTIL SHE COULD HEAR EDNA SNORING in the other bed before she carefully opened the drawer to the nightstand in between them. She pulled out her notebook, pen, and flashlight, then propped her pillows behind her. Once she was comfortable, she pulled her legs toward her and rested the pad against her knees.

Edna would deny, up until her last dying breath, that she snored, but this time of year it seemed to be the worst. The natural doctor said she had allergies, and Edna took an herbal mixture to help with her condition, but it sure didn’t help with her snoring.

She was glad Edna was sleeping. If she were awake, she’d just lecture Leah about how nonproductive her writing was, how she was never going to find a husband, and on and on. It wasn’t that Leah didn’t want a husband . . . she just didn’t see what the rush was. She enjoyed her time to herself, and once she was married, there wouldn’t be time for her writing. There was barely time now. Once she was married, she would have not only a husband but an entire household to take care of, and babies would follow. Leah looked forward to all those things. Just not quite yet.

She tried to ignore Edna’s unsteady wheezing and focus on her story. She reread the last page she had written the night before, but she couldn’t concentrate. Aaron Lantz’s face kept popping into her head. He wasn’t the quiet, timid boy she remembered from school, and even though she saw him at social gatherings these days, she’d never paid much attention to him before now. He seemed . . . nice. And not bad looking either. Leah knew she should be ashamed for taking advantage of him the way she had, blackmailing him into reading her story in exchange for a date to the Sunday singing.

Her heart thumped in her chest all of a sudden, and she began to feel a little panicked. What if he didn’t like her story? And told her so. Or what if he lost it? It was the only copy she had. What if he mistook their date to the singing as more than just a casual get-together? She’d need to straighten this out with him tomorrow, make sure he understood that friendship was all she was interested in. And someone to read her stories. Screen them, so to speak.

She shook her head. Aaron would tell her that he liked what she wrote, whether he did or not, just because he was smitten with her. She should have picked someone else to test her work on. Aaron couldn’t be objective if he liked her—in that way.

Leah had to admit, if she were in the market for courtship, she’d be flattered by the way he looked at her, the way his big blue eyes seemed to call out for her to notice him, give him a chance. His build was a pleasing attribute. Tall and muscular. His light brown hair was sun-streaked with sandy-red highlights, as if he didn’t wear his hat a lot of the time. And it was cute the way his mouth had twitched on one side when he’d seemed to be nervous around her earlier.

Why all the thoughts about Aaron? She’d always thought he was handsome. Just rather . . . insignificant. She silently reprimanded herself for having such a thought, especially after he’d been so polite earlier.

Leah blew out a breath of frustration. Her thoughts about Aaron were keeping her from her writing, and her heroine in her story was starting to put her faith in God, and Leah wanted to elaborate on that. It was her favorite part of storytelling, when things started to lead up to a happy ending.

She put the pen to the paper and let her thoughts about Abigail Bennett flow.

Abby listened to the inner voice this time, a voice she’d heard before but never paid attention to, a whispering in her conscience that beckoned her to follow the path to salvation through Jesus Christ.



Leah stopped writing when Edna started to cough. She sure wished the doctor could give her sister something better to help her. It sounded like the air in Edna’s lungs was mixed with tiny rocks that she was trying to clear from her airway by taking deep breaths and then forcing the mess out. Leah didn’t understand how Edna could sleep through it, but she always did.

When Edna’s snoring resumed, Leah was able to reconnect with Abigail. By the time she finished telling Abby’s story, it was almost midnight. Four o’clock would come early in the morning, but it was worth it.

She smiled as she wrote out the words The End.

Midnight? Aaron shook his head as he turned off the lantern on his bedside table.

He hadn’t meant to read Leah’s story until that late, but as it turned out, he couldn’t stop turning the pages. He was fascinated by the main characters, two girls, one Englisch and one Amish. Lauren and Rose had nothing in common but the friendship they shared, and Leah’s storytelling was tender and compassionate as the girls struggled to be friends, even though their families were less than approving.

Rose was tall, like Leah. She had brown eyes, like Leah, and if Aaron didn’t know better, he would have thought that Leah was writing about herself. Rose was strong in her faith and ministered to her friend, but she didn’t seem interested in learning the skills necessary in an Old Order Amish community. There was one particular scene where Rose was skipping through a field on a cool spring day, her arms stretched out to her sides like she was flying. Cool blades of grass tickled her toes, and wispy wildflowers brushed her shins as she sang.

Running over. Running over. My cup is full and running over. Since the Lord saved me, I’m as happy as can be. My cup is full and running over.

It was a song they sang during Sunday singings, usually followed by a game of volleyball. Aaron pictured Leah as the one skipping and singing in the meadow, and it was a delightful picture in his head.

But what held Aaron’s attention the most was the budding romance between Rose and a boy in her Amish community—Jesse. Aaron cringed and wondered what his friends would think if they knew he was reading a romance book. He’d sure never tell them about it. But in the story, Rose wanted Jesse to accept her for the free-spirited girl that she was, and Aaron couldn’t help but speculate that this was the kind of mate Leah was looking for too.

Aaron was certainly intrigued by Leah, but his reservations ran deep about whether he could make a home with someone like her. When he watched Abner and Edna together, there was no doubt that Edna would make a fine wife. Several times she’d brought casseroles or snacks to complement the meal his mother prepared for them all, and everything Edna brought was delicious. She often commented about the clothes she’d sewn for her family. She also talked about what a fine cook her youngest sister, Kathleen, was, and how Mary Carol grew amazing vegetables in their garden. But when it came to Leah, she would take a deep breath. “Leah will find her way,” she’d once said.

Aaron got comfortable atop the sheets and hoped for a breeze to blow through the open window in his room. The heat was stifling, but he knew sleep would come. Normally he didn’t need to set the battery-operated alarm clock on his bedside table, since his body was programmed to wake up at four o’clock, but on this night he did.

Leah made it a point to be downstairs before her father. She helped Mary Carol, Kathleen, and her mother prepare dippy eggs, bacon, scrapple, and biscuits.

“Where’s Edna?” Mary Carol asked as she stirred the eggs.

Leah yawned. “She was still sleeping when I got dressed.”

Edna was always up early and helped with breakfast.

“She was coughing a lot during the night again,” Leah said. She poured herself a glass of orange juice. “Can’t the natural doctor give her something that helps her more?”

Mamm walked away from the skillet of sizzling bacon, pulled six forks from the drawer, and walked toward the table. “Maybe she needs to go for another visit with him and see about that.”

Leah picked up a fork to flip the bacon as her mother placed the other forks on the table.

“I can finish that, Leah. Why don’t you get the butter and jellies from the refrigerator?”

Leah sighed. Maybe if everyone would let her cook occasionally, she’d get better at it. But she was too tired to argue. She set the fork down on a paper towel on the counter, then moved toward the refrigerator.

As she placed a jar of rhubarb jelly on the table, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Guder mariye,” Daed said. He entered the kitchen, kissed their mother on the cheek, and sat down at the head of the kitchen table.

“And good morning to you,” Marian said. The girls all echoed the sentiment.

Leah wanted her father to be proud of her, the way he was of her sisters. “Kathleen, I’ll be going with Aaron to the singing at the Grabers’ house this Sunday,” she said as she set the butter on the table. “I was hoping you could show me how to make that Lazy Daisy Oatmeal Cake you make. I’d like to bring that.” She glanced in her father’s direction, pleased to see his eyes shining with approval.

“Uh, are you sure?” Kathleen asked. She pulled the biscuits from the oven and put them on the table. “I reckon that cake is a lot of work. Maybe you could take a lemon sponge pie instead?”

“Kathleen, I’m sure your sister can make the oatmeal cake,” their father said. “You give her a hand.” He reached for a biscuit, and it warmed Leah’s heart when he smiled in her direction.

“Ya, Daed,” Kathleen said.

Her mother sat down in a chair at the other end of the table from their father. “Did—did you and Aaron get along well?”

Leah waited until Kathleen and Mary Carol were seated on the bench across from her before she answered. “He seems nice.” She let her eyes veer in her father’s direction.

He nodded his approval.

They all bowed their heads to pray, but Daed spoke up only a second or two into the blessing. “Where is Edna?”

“Sleeping,” Leah answered. But I’m here, on time, and I helped.

Daed smoothed his beard with his hand. “Leah, go and check on your sister before we continue with the blessing. She is never late to breakfast.”

Leah stood up from the table. “Ya, Daed.” No one says anything bad about Edna being late for a meal. She grabbed one of the lit lanterns on the kitchen hutch and marched up the stairs, thinking how she could have used an extra hour of sleep.

Their bedroom was the last one on the right, at the end of the hall. “Edna, get up!” she said before she pushed the door wide. “Breakfast is ready, and everyone is already . . .”

Leah froze for a moment. Her bare feet seemed rooted to the wooden slats on the floor as she looked at her sister lying in the bed. “Edna?” Her eyes filled with tears as she slowly moved toward her sister in the bed. “Edna!”

She grabbed Edna’s shoulders and shook her. “Edna! Wake up!” Edna’s mouth was slightly parted, and her face was the color of ripe blueberries.

She’s not breathing. Please, God, dear God in heaven. Help.

“Mamm! Daed! Mamm! Daed!”

There was a stampede of steps up the stairs. Her father was the first one to enter the room. “Mary Carol, go to the barn and call 9-1-1!”

Daed’s mouth was quickly on top of Edna’s, forcing air into her lungs, after he tilted her head back and pinched her nose. His hands were trembling, but he kept the breaths steady. Thank goodness her father had training in CPR when he was a volunteer at the local fire department years ago. Leah thanked God that he apparently still remembered his training.

Mary Carol jetted from the room to do as their father instructed. Kathleen was starting to cry, and Leah reached for her hand and squeezed it in hers. Mamm’s face was as white as the cotton sheet beneath Edna, and Leah didn’t think her mother was breathing either. Her fingers were clamped tightly against her lips, and her eyes were wide and fearful.

Dear God, save her. Dear God, save her. Leah prayed like she’d never prayed before. I promise not to be jealous of Edna ever again. Please, God, save her.

“Daed!” Leah yelled. “Make her breathe!” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched her father trying to pump life into Edna. “Daed!” she yelled again.

I love you, Edna. I love you, Edna. Please wake up. God, wake her up.