Almost Amish Read Online Free

better. The kids’ lives had become so high-pressure, so overly scheduled, that it was going to take more than just telling them they needed to slow down. They needed this. A radical lifestyle change. All of them—maybe Julie most of all.
    But there was much more at stake here. “This is about more than us slowing down for a while. You know it’s important to Aunt Susan that we do this. We’re a family, and families support each other.”
    Whitney nodded, her face suddenly soft. “You’re right, and we will.”
    “Yeah, we will.” Brian wheezed. “I just think there must have been a way to help her that was a bit less”—he stopped walking and took a couple of deep breaths—“disruptive to our lives. Where are Aunt Susan and Angie, by the way?”
    “Good question.” Julie had no idea why the producers had been so insistent that the two families travel separately. Somehow, she’d just gone with it, like she always did, without asking too many questions. Without asking enough questions, perhaps.
    Whitney grabbed Julie’s arm and whispered, “Mom, look, there’s a man up in that tree. The third one on the right.”
    Julie looked toward the dark shape in the tree line. It certainly was a man. She could see his jeans and tennis shoes dangling near the trunk about halfway up, his face hidden behind a leafy branch. “Let’s speed up a bit.”
    She caught up to Brian and whispered, “We need to hurry.”
    “Why?” His face was bright red, so that his freckles barely showed. “It’s too hot to go any faster.”
    Whitney grabbed his arm and pulled. “There’s a man up in that tree, dumbo. You want to stand here and wait to find out whether he’s looking for a fresh-off-the-plane California family to rob? Maybe he likes telescopes.” She looked toward the tree again, then turned back, a hint of panic in her eyes. “Mom, I think he’s got a gun.”
    Brian jerked around, stumbling over his own feet as he did so. He somehow managed to catch himself before he or his telescope fell. As he straightened up, he began laughing hysterically. “That’s not a gun, it’s a television camera, dork-o.” Brian continued to laugh, but whether it was from relief or showmanship at the idea that he might be getting filmed, Julie didn’t know.
    Whitney blew out an irritated breath and stomped away. A few seconds later when they caught up with her, she turned to Julie and said, “So tell me the truth, how bad do I look? I’d rather hear about it now than be caught off guard when I see it on television.”
    “You look just beautiful.” Julie reached over to pull Whitney’s hair behind her shoulder. Always a bit wild and wavy, it was taking on a life of its own. Her daughter’s face was damp with perspiration, and orange dust spotted her legs and arms. “And I’m sure they’re just warming up. That won’t be for the show.”
    Brian, who was now in front, reached the top of the hill and pointed. “Hey, look, there’s the house.”
    Julie caught up to him and almost gasped. Nestled into a lush emerald nook stood the most charming farmhouse she thought she’d ever seen. It was white and gleamed in the sun, waiting for them. Just off the house was what appeared to be a small storage barn, and there was a much larger barn just behind that, surrounded by fences and corrals.
    “Doesn’t it just figure that we’d have to get all the way to the top of this hill, to see down to where we’re going? Don’t you think they could have given us a ride to here at least?” Whitney laughed as she said it, her voice suddenly higher-pitched, the intoxication of cameras and crews and a completely different life obviously affecting her, too.
    Julie nodded. “You read my mind.”
    The house was made entirely of planked wood painted white, no shutters, with a tin roof on top. It was neat and tidy and appeared freshly painted. Julie had read enough about the Amish way of life to know this was more or less what to expect, but the