An Uncommon Grace by Serena B. Miller Page A

sugar, but she had a mean streak. He had seen it more than once. When one truly knew Zillah, she did not seem so pretty anymore.
    He had always been careful never to give any indication that he was open to courting her, but she was one of the few girls in his church district close to his age and still single. Having to marry within the Amish faith, and specifically within the Swartzentruber sect, limited one’s options.
    He wondered if her father, the bishop, was beginning to worry that she might never marry. That might explain his admonition for Levi to soon choose a wife for his mother’s sake.
    The preaching began again, a fresh preacher this time. Jesse fell asleep against his shoulder. Albert had his head down, twisting and untwisting two pieces of straw he had picked up from the floor.
    Levi scanned the faces of the other women seated across from him. Were there any here for whom he could muster any enthusiasm? He knew of men who had chosen their wives theway a man chooses livestock, evaluating each woman’s health and ability to bear plenty of children. Levi wanted more than that. He wanted someone with whom he could talk about things other than how many bushels of corn he had taken to market or how many quarts of peaches she had canned.
    Deep down, he wanted someone with a good mind who would help him become a better man. And he wanted—truth be told—someone he would not mind lying down beside at night.
    At that instant, his mind took flight in a direction that he absolutely did not want it to go. A very dangerous direction: Grace Connor.
    She had impressed him with her competency and her compassion. He found himself wondering what went on in that Englisch head of hers. His mother said that before Grace came to stay with her grandmother, she had lived halfway around the world, riding in helicopters, going into battlefields, saving wounded soldiers. He wondered if she ever had nightmares about what she saw.
    Jesse stirred against him. He put his arm around the little boy and held him close. His family would be depending upon him for their survival. He could not allow himself to think about Grace for even one second. He wasn’t some Old Order teenager on Rumspringa sneaking around dating Englisch girls before he settled down. At twenty-five, he was a grown man with a family to support.
    Getting to know Grace Connor as more than a nodding acquaintance was simply not an option.

chapter E IGHT
    G race’s internal alarm clock nearly always rang a little before six o’clock in the morning. Her father had believed in awakening a child at the same time every morning, and the time he chose was six o’clock. Weekends as well as school days. And it had stuck. At least with her—maybe not so much with Becky.
    Grace didn’t mind. It helped her get a lot accomplished. Rising from her grandmother’s couch where she had spent the night, she went over to the window and opened it. A cool morning breeze wafted in, rich with the scent of honeysuckle. The feel of the air on her T-shirt–clad body was so enticing, and the smell of honeysuckle so thick, she almost felt she could waft out upon it like one of those cartoon characters floating toward an enticing scent.
    One thing she was not going to do with this morning was let it go to waste. If there was ever a morning made for running, it was today. She checked on her grandmother, who was still sleeping soundly, then went upstairs, threw on some sweats and running shoes, and came back down. She considered running shorts but abandoned the idea. She didn’t want to cause some Swartzentruber man to drive his buggy into a ditch.
    Becky was sleeping with a couch pillow over her head. Grace lifted the pillow and shook her sister’s shoulder.
    “Becky?”
    Her sister sat straight up and looked around wildly. “Is Grandma okay?”
    “Grandma is fine. I’m going for a run. I just wanted you to know where I was.”
    Becky rubbed her eyes. “What day is it?”
    “Saturday. You