Sarasota Dreams Read online

  © 2011 Shades of the Past by Debby Mayne

  © 2011 Trusting Her Heart by Debby Mayne

  © 2011 Unlikely Match by Debby Mayne

  Print ISBN 978-1-62836-167-4

  eBook Editions:

  Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62836-984-7

  Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62836-985-4

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.

  Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683,

  www.barbourbooks.com

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Table of Contents

  Dear Readers

  Shades of the Past

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Note to the Readers

  Trusting Her Heart

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Unlikely Match

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to Pinecraft, a delightful Mennonite and Amish community in Sarasota, Florida. I’ve been there several times, and during each visit I learn something new. I’m thankful to the many people I met who were willing to answer questions for my books. One such person, Lee Miller, always took my calls and shared his vast knowledge to help with keeping these stories grounded in reality.

  Although I’m not Mennonite, I discovered that the people I wrote about share the same human conditions we all do. They experience joy, sadness, confusion, and all the other emotions that have us turning to God and trusting in His greater understanding. Some of the folks in Pinecraft choose to continue living the simple life, while others have embraced some modern conveniences. The population of this community increases significantly during the colder months as winter visitors come down to bask in the Florida sunshine.

  If you ever take a trip to Florida, please plan to visit Sarasota and have a hearty lunch at Yoders Restaurant. They have some of the best pies you’ll ever taste. After lunch, stroll around Pinecraft, where you’ll find produce stands, candy stores, gift shops, and some very friendly people who love the Lord.

  Blessings to you and your family,

  Debby Mayne

  www.debbymayne.com

  SHADES OF THE PAST

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my daughters, Lauren and Alison, and my granddaughter, Emma.

  Thanks to Lee Miller and Pastor Rocky Miller for answering dozens of questions about the Mennonite community in Sarasota.

  I appreciate Tara Randel’s willingness to read the first few chapters and the suggestions she made to help bring this story to life.

  Chapter 1

  Mary Penner lowered herself to the hot, moist sand, gathered the front of her skirt, and twisted it around her shins as she pulled her knees to her chest. She carefully tucked the folds of her skirt around her to cover herself. It was only May, yet the intensity of heat from the sun reflecting off the beach in Sarasota, Florida, sent droplets of perspiration trickling down her back. But she didn’t mind. Being here in a stable home, living among the Conservative Mennonite folks, and knowing her grandparents would always be there for her gave her a sense of peace—even if they wished she’d never been born.

  Mary still had confusing and sometimes even bitter moments when she couldn’t put her past completely behind her. Today was especially difficult because it was the ninth anniversary of her mother’s death.

  The gentle whisper of waves as they lapped the sand blended with the sound of seabirds on their never-ending search for food. Children scampered around blankets, sand buckets in hand. Teenagers and young adults lay sprawled on beach towels, catching the last of the day’s rays, their bronze bodies showing very little modesty. Years ago she would have been among them, but now … well, it embarrassed her.

  Mary extended her arm and studied her shadow before she pointed her index finger and drew a figure eight in the slightly moist sand. That was how her life seemed sometimes—a double circle that started out as though going someplace, yet it managed to meet back up at the beginning. Just like her thoughts.

  “Mary?”

  She snapped her head around at the sound of the familiar voice. “Oh hi, Abe.”

  He drew closer and squatted. “Nice day.”

  “Yeah.” Mary sniffled and turned slightly away from Abe Glick. His presence had always created the strangest sensation—sort of a dread mixed with exhilaration in her chest. The stirrings of emotion confused her as always. “What are you doing here?”

  Abe chuckled. “I was about to ask you the same thing.” He gestured to the sand beside her. “Mind if I join you?”

  She cast a quick glance in his direction, then looked back toward the water, hoping he wouldn’t notice her heat-tinged cheeks. “That’s fine.”

  He slowly sat down and stretched his long, navy-blue twill-clad legs toward the water. “It’s a mite hot today.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  A Frisbee zoomed a few feet past them, followed by a half-dressed teenage boy. “Sorry,” he said. His gaze lingered long enough to satisfy his curiosity, then he took off after the Frisbee.

  Abe nodded toward the kid, a half smile on his face, before turning to face Mary. “So what are you thinking about?” Abe asked.

  Mary shrugged. “Work. Family.” She paused to take a deep breath before adding, “Just everyday stuff.”

  “I don’t think so.” Abe tilted his head back and let out a deep chuckle. “Based on the look on your face, I think it’s much more than that.”

  Mary darted a quick look in his direction, then turned back toward the water. “Is it any of your business?”

  He lifted his hands. “Sorry if I offended you, but I did it innocently, I promise.”

  His apology deflated her short burst. “That’s okay. I’m sort of touchy today anyway.”

  “So do you wanna talk about it?”

  Mary snorted and shook her head. “You are something else, Abe. Do you ever give up?”

  “Giving up isn’t in the Glick vocabulary.”

  “Okay, so what if I tell you I was thinking about the past?” Mary leveled him with an I-dare-you-to-ask-more-questions look. “Does that make you happy?”

&
nbsp; He looked right back at her with as much of a dare as she had. “Ever miss your old life?”

  “Never.” She paused as she considered his question. “I love being with Grandma and Grandpa. They’re good to me.”

  “Indeed they are.” Abe’s sidelong glance at her heightened her pulse rate. “There was never any question about that.” He turned completely toward her and stared until she met his gaze. “Or was there?”

  He asked too many questions, and she was growing more irritated by the second. “No, of course not!”

  “You don’t have to be so defensive, Mary. I’m not the enemy.”

  A soft grunt escaped her throat. “Never said you were, Abe. What’s this all about anyway?”

  “Just curious, I s’pose.”

  “Curious? How about nosy?” Mary shifted a few inches away from him. “Why did you follow me all the way here?”

  “Who says I followed you?” He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a teasing grin.

  Mary mimicked his expression, then turned back to face the water. “Did you have some business on the beach?”

  “Ya, I came to see you.”

  “See? That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Abe laughed. “You’re too easy to rile, Mary Penner.”

  “Is that what you’re trying to do? Rile me?”

  His teasing had always annoyed her.

  He lifted a shoulder then let it drop. “Maybe.”

  “Stop trying to make me mad, Abe Glick,” she tossed right back. “Sometimes it seems like that’s all you live for.”

  “Oh there’s much more to life than making you mad, Mary. I like making you laugh and getting you to think. And sometimes it’s fun to scare you. Remember that snake?”

  “How could I forget that snake? That fake snake. You got me in so much trouble, you’re lucky I’m talking to you now.”

  “I don’t believe in luck.” He gave her a teasing grin. “Sounds like you’re holding a grudge.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  Abe touched Mary’s arm. “That was eight years ago, so if you aren’t over it by now, I would suggest you start working on not holding grudges. God doesn’t want us to be angry.”

  “That was seven years ago,” she corrected, “and I’m not angry.”

  Abe snorted and turned to face the water. “Sure is pretty, isn’t it? I can’t imagine living in a place where I couldn’t get to the beach once in a while.”

  “No one ever asked you to.”

  “You’re still a mite touchy, Mary. I suppose I should leave you to your thoughts.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  “If you ever wanna talk about anything, I’m a good listener.” He touched her arm. “I promise not to judge your past.”

  Mary swallowed hard and nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

  Abe stood and brushed most of the sand off his backside. A small amount of the wet sand still clung to his trousers. “I best be getting back to the farm before the sun goes down.”

  She lifted a hand for a brief wave, then waited until he was out of sight before getting up. Her midshin-length skirt held more sand than Abe’s trousers, but it never bothered her until Grandma fussed at her for tracking it into their tiny rented home in the Pinecraft community. She shoved her feet into the tan clogs she’d worn to work. The sand was still gritty on her feet, and it irritated her until she left the beach, took them off, and carefully brushed the tops and bottoms of her feet. She clapped her shoes together and put them back on. Other people darted past her, some of them openly staring and others trying hard not to. She’d gotten used to being noticed for wearing plain clothes, but when she’d first arrived in Sarasota, she felt awkward. Some of the Mennonites set themselves apart from the Amish by wearing brighter colors. Grandma still clung to her Amish roots, but Mary didn’t mind. Her brown skirt and off-white blouse helped keep her from being noticed, which was just fine with her. Her kapp covered about half her head and tended to fall to one side in spite of the pins she used to secure it.

  As Mary walked to the bus stop, she thought about Abe’s offer of lending an ear. She’d been in Sarasota for a little more than nine years, and to this day, no one had discussed her past—at least not with her. Abe had come close a few times, but he never pressed for information, and she never offered it. They’d never actually talked much beyond the teasing and gentle jousting that he always started.

  She’d always thought her teenage crush on Abe would fade, but sitting next to him on the beach proved that wasn’t the case. If things had been simpler, Mary might have given in to her feelings. The anniversary of her mother’s violent death continued to remind her she’d never be like other Mennonites, who’d all led godly lives since birth.

  When Mary first arrived in Sarasota, she remembered the fear of facing Grandma and Grandpa after hearing all the stories from Mama about how they’d shunned her when she got pregnant out of wedlock. Her story shifted slightly with each telling, but the pain in Mama’s voice was evident every time; that part never changed. Even if Mama embellished her story, Mary couldn’t doubt there was a foundation of truth to what she said had happened.

  As difficult as Mama had made their lives, Mary still missed her. Mama was loving and kind to Mary. She said she’d do anything to make things better, but she’d gotten herself into so much trouble, she didn’t know how to dig her way out. Mary had to guess what Mama was talking about, but it wasn’t too difficult to put the pieces together. The love was there, but without guidance or a parenting role model, Mama made some terrible mistakes—including one that had cost her life. Mary leaned against a light pole and squeezed her eyes shut as the memory of that awful night pounded through her head.

  The wind shifted slightly, bringing her back to the moment. Mary blinked as the bus pulled to the curb, the fumes surrounding her and making her cough.

  “Hey, lady, are you getting on or not?” The bus driver leaned toward her as he waited with his hand on the door crank.

  “Oh … sure.” Mary gathered her skirt up and climbed onto the bus. She found a seat near the front and plopped down then stared out the window. Mary was on her way to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, just like nine years ago, only now she knew her place. Her memories had always transported her somewhere she didn’t want to go, and sometimes she couldn’t keep the demons away. If Mama had told her more about her father, she might have had someone else to turn to. The times Mary had asked about him brought such sadness to Mama, she eventually gave up and created an image in her own mind of who he might be. When she was little, she pictured a prince riding in on a stallion, but as she got older, his image darkened, and he became a brooding man similar to those in Mama’s life.

  Mary had been puzzled the first time she met the people Mama said had shunned her. They’d both embraced her and told her she was one of them now—and she had nothing to worry about as long as she followed God’s Word and His calling to be a good Mennonite girl. There were a few people who weren’t as open, but Grandpa reminded her that no one was perfect. Occasionally Grandma would mutter something about having another chance at raising a daughter—only this time they wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

  Abe arrived at the old family farm in time to send his hired workers home and finish putting away some of the tools for the day. His grandfather had resisted the transition from farming celery to dairy farming and growing citrus, but after Grandpop passed away, Abe had managed to make the changes when he returned from college, where he got his business degree. Dad was pleased with Abe’s work, and he retired from farming after Mom died. He had moved into the Pinecraft community in town so he could live among other Conservative Mennonites.

  A grin played on Abe’s lips as he reflected on the last time he’d visited Dad in town. He’d been on the shuffleboard court and didn’t seem to want to be interrupted. If Abe didn’t know better, he’d think Dad preferred his new life over what he’d done the first almost fifty years of his life. Although Dad had once loved farming, the
combination of all the heavy lifting and the hot Florida sun had taken its toll on him. Abe still did some of the farmwork, but he’d managed to put what he’d learned about business management into practice and hired some workers to do most of the manual labor. Abe’s job was to manage the farm and find ways for it to sustain itself and the people who depended on it. After a shaky year, the farm was in good enough financial shape to pay everyone, including Dad, a nice wage after expenses.

  Once the last of the equipment was put away in the new barn Abe had built, he brushed off his trousers and headed into the old house that he now lived in alone. The echo of the screen door slamming reminded him of how lonely it had gotten since Dad moved out. Both of his brothers had their own places—Jake on a neighboring farm and Luke in a swanky neighborhood in Sarasota. Jake was more like Abe; he had no desire to go crazy during rumspringa, the one-year running-around period some of the Mennonite families carried over from their Amish ancestors. However, once Luke got a taste of worldliness, he didn’t want to go back. While some families would have shunned their children, Dad never did that to Luke. Dad didn’t like Luke’s choices, and he’d taken every opportunity to let him know it, but he still embraced his wayward son. Abe reflected on Dad’s decision and determined he would have done the same thing.

  Mary’s grandparents, according to the bits and pieces he’d heard, had made the traditional choice when their only daughter, Elizabeth, had gotten pregnant during her rumspringa. They’d shunned her. Although he’d just been born when it happened, he’d heard about it from the Conservative Mennonite children when Mary showed up at school. Parents used her and others who experienced something similar to remind their children how worldly allure wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  Abe had heard about the Penners’ shame and how they mourned the loss of their daughter for years. In fact, until Mary came to live with them, they seemed like very bitter people. The only contact he’d had with them when he was a child had been when he went into their restaurant with his folks. He’d never seen a smile touch their lips before Mary arrived.

  The very thought of Mary made him warm inside. The first time he’d seen her when she arrived at their tiny school had sent his heart racing. He laughed to himself as he remembered how difficult it had been for her to adjust to the Mennonite ways. She grumbled about everything—from the head covering she couldn’t seem to keep straight to the skirt that constantly got twisted between her legs. She questioned authority and balked at some of the conservative teachings in the early years. The few times she spoke, she went for shock value and blurted things the other Mennonite kids had never heard about before. But he suspected there was more truth than fiction in her words. Dad had told him he heard that a drug dealer killed her mother when he suspected she was about to turn him in.