A Christmas Bride in Pinecraft (3 page)

“Perfect.” He knew Beverly loved eating there but never could spare the time, since she was usually making breakfast for others. The novelty of letting someone else look after her should keep her occupied until he arrived.

“Don't worry about a thing.”

“I won't worry now. Thanks again for everything, and I'll see you tomorrow.” After finally passing on his flight information, Eric hung up. With a sigh, he leaned his head against the wall and finally allowed himself to focus on what was about to happen.

Early tomorrow morning, he was heading back to Florida. To Pinecraft. To Beverly. He would help her clean up and settle down. But most of all, he would be able to show her how much he cared about her. She would know she wasn't alone.

Maybe then, if she was willing to trust him, he wouldn't be alone anymore, either.

B
Y THE TIME
Z
ACK
hung up the kitchen phone, the whole family was standing around him, waiting to hear about the unexpected phone call—Effie, too.

Even though they were New Order Amish and could have a telephone, phone calls were pretty rare. Actually, the only time Effie could recall the phone being used a lot was when her brother had been courting Leona last winter.

Leona had come to Pinecraft on a girls' weekend and met Zack her first night in town. After she'd gone back home to Ohio, Zack had called her almost every day. Before long, Leona returned, and Zack proposed. Now they were married and living in a small house a few streets over.

Which was why it was so unusual for him to talk on their parents' phone for any length of time.

“Well, don't keep us in suspense any longer, son,” Mamm said. “Who was on the phone?”

“It was Eric Wagler.”

“Isn't he in Pennsylvania?” Leona asked.

“He is. He called here for a favor.”

“What does he need?” Daed asked.

“He asked if Beverly Overholt could spend the night here.”

“Tonight?” Effie's mother's voice had gone up two octaves.

Zack ran a hand through his dark hair. “
Jah
. Beverly's upset, of course. She called him and told him all about the break-in. Now he's coming down tomorrow. He thinks he'll be here around lunchtime.”

His
daed
blinked in surprise. “So soon? That is a mighty long way. I wonder how much the plane ticket cost?”

“Probably more than we need to worry about.”

“He must be terribly worried,” his mother added. “Ain't so?”

“It is his inn, Mamm,” Daed pointed out.

“It is also just a building.”

Looking a bit bemused, Zack replied, “If you want to know the truth, I doubt Eric has even thought two seconds about the actual building. When we spoke, all of his concerns were centered on Beverly.”

She smiled softly. “I knew that man's heart was in the right place. Beverly didn't think much of him becoming her boss, but this just goes to show ya that the Lord's plans are always in the right place. He really cares about her.”

Zack nodded. “And that is why he asked for a couple of us to go to the inn and convince her to come over. He said she's trying to be brave but she's pretty shaken up about the day's events.”

“I'm sure she is,” Effie's sister Violet said as she walked to the kitchen and began putting away the few glasses that were drying on the wooden dish rack. “Anyone would be.”

“So, who wants to go over to the inn with me?” Zack asked.

“I will,” Leona said.

As always happened when he looked at his wife, Zack's expression softened. “
Danke
, Le, but I think Mamm or Daed should come, too.”

His mother picked up a cloth and started wiping shelves. “Eric is sure Beverly needs to come here?”

“Uh,
jah
.” Zack looked completely puzzled. “You don't mind, do you?” When she didn't reply right away, he glanced at Violet and then at Effie.

Effie shrugged. Their mother's reaction was as much a surprise to her. She'd never known their mother to ever be inhospitable to anyone in need.

“Ginny, what is wrong?” Daed asked.

“Nothing. I mean, of course I don't mind . . .”

“Then why are ya acting so upset, Mamm?” Effie asked.

“I'm not upset. It's just that we are going to need to rearrange things.” She stared at them all, obviously reconfiguring sleeping arrangements in her head.

“What's there to rearrange?” Daed asked. “Beverly can have the guest room. That's what it's there for.”

She nodded slowly. “That would work. But that also means that we're going to need to change sheets and clean bathrooms . . .”

Effie shook her head. “But everything's just fine.” Looking around their spacious living room, Effie thought things looked rather neater than normal. Everything was picked up, the floor had been swept, and even her mother's favorite stack of
Better Homes and Gardens
magazines were neatly organized.

“Not for an innkeeper like Beverly to see, it's not.”

“Violet and I can freshen up the bathrooms and change sheets,” Leona said. “And Effie can help, too.”

“I guess we have a plan then,” their
mamm
said.

“We do, but it can't take all night,” Zack said. “I promised Eric I'd get over there as soon as possible. He was really worried about Beverly being alone.”

“I agree,” their father said with a look of understanding. “Dear, we'd better go over to the inn within the hour.”

That apparently spurred Mamm on. “That gives me just enough time to whip up some pumpkin-and-chocolate-chip bread.”

Violet groaned. “Mamm, we don't need bread . . .”

“Oh, yes we do.” Her voice turned sharp. “This is Beverly
Overholt, remember. She bakes fresh goodies for dozens of people every day. Every single day.” After letting that announcement percolate for a few seconds, she added, in a more panicked tone, “She also offers complete strangers a clean, beautiful place to stay.”

“That's her job,” Violet said impatiently. “She runs an inn. She would never expect us to go to so much trouble or to act so formally.”

“That is true, but she still has eyes and a nose.”

Effie wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”

“Everything. I don't want her going around thinking that I have a dirty house with nothing good to eat.”

Zack looked as if he was about to lose his patience. “Beverly is coming over because she's upset, not because she wants fresh bread.”

Leona reached out and squeezed Zack's hand. “If we get started, we'll be done in no time,” she said in her usual soft manner.

“I agree with Leona,” Violet said. “I bet together we can make everything perfect in an hour or less.”

It was as if that reminder about time was all she needed. Their mother took a deep breath, steeled her shoulders, and nodded. “You are right,
kinner
. One hour is more than enough time to make this house shine.” And with that, she started barking out orders ruthlessly, adding a generous amount of pointing as she did so.

Before heading to her room, Effie walked to her brother's side. “You'd best get out the egg timer, Zack.”

“You think?”

“Otherwise, Mamm is going to have us cleaning all night and you'll be late to get Beverly.”

Zack winced. “And then Eric will never let me hear the end of it.” Turning to Violet, he said, “Hurry and go set the timer for fifty minutes. We've got to get out of here and get Beverly before it gets too late.”

“I'll do one better,” Violet said with a wink. “I'll set it for forty-five.”

Staring at the three siblings, Leona frowned. “But your
mamm
said an hour.”

“Don't worry, Le. We do this all the time.”

“It's true,” Zack said with a grin. “Otherwise nothing would ever get done.”

B
everly appreciated the Kaufmanns' hospitality. She really did. And she was also grateful for their offer to take her to Yoder's for breakfast. The food would be wonderful, but there was no way she was going to be able to handle standing in that long line with half the community. Chances were very good that she would see several people she knew. Chances were even better that someone would ask her about the robbery and how she was feeling.

Just the thought of coming up with a reply made her cringe.

Besides, now that a little bit of time had passed, she was feeling less rattled and more focused. She needed to take some time to pray, to clear her head, and begin to make plans.

Eric's arrival was also on her mind. She wanted to be by his
side when he first walked through the inn's doors. Though it might be silly, she thought he might need her when he first saw the damage. She would love to be the one offering support for a change.

All of those reasons were good ones. They were the reasons she'd simply had a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee at the Kaufmann house before taking her leave. But once she'd stood on the front walkway of the Orange Blossom Inn and spied the boarded-up front window, all her good intentions left in a flash. She simply wasn't up to the task of confronting the disarray by herself. Thinking of the broken glass and the damaged lamps on the floor made her stomach clench tightly.

Instead, she'd turned around and gone to the library to use their computers. There, she contacted the guests who had booked a room for the following week and cancelled their reservations. Then she'd wandered around, absently looking at books and magazines. But when she realized not even the new issue of
Southern Living
could hold her attention, she returned to the inn and sat on the stoop.

And that was why she was sitting outside when Eric pulled up in his rental car two hours later.

The moment he saw her, he raised a hand and waved through the windshield. She waved back, and sat patiently while he parked, pulled out a backpack, heavy coat, and duffel, then crossed the street toward her. As usual, he was dressed in faded jeans and a plain, snug-fitting T-shirt. What was unusual were the thick boots on his feet. Those boots made him seem even taller than his six feet and, somehow, even more rugged than ever.

“You are quite the welcome party, Bev,” he teased.

Beverly got to her feet and held out a hand for his backpack. “Hardly that.”

He ignored her offer of help. Instead, he set his bags down on the porch and took her hands in his. “It's good to see you,” he said quietly.

Looking into his dark brown eyes, now filled with warmth and compassion, Beverly felt the same way. She sighed in relief as his warmth permeated the cold feeling that had settled deep inside her since the break-in. He squeezed her hands gently, bringing with his touch the reminder that she was no longer alone. She felt the muscles in her neck and shoulders ease, lessening some of the stress she'd been holding on to—stress she hadn't even realized existed until it dissipated.

He studied her, his gaze skimming her features. “You okay?”

Though she'd wanted to at least act brave, she found she couldn't do it. “Nope,” she admitted with a shrug and an embarrassed smile. “Even though the police have assured me that there was most likely nothing personal about the robbery, I still can't help but feel that I've been violated.”

“I know.”

“I keep thinking that I shouldn't have left the house. And definitely not because I wanted to do a little early Christmas shopping.”

“There was nothing wrong with taking the day off.”

She knew he was right, but it still didn't sit well with her. “But, still . . .”

“Bev, if you hadn't left, there's the possibility that you could have been injured. The thieves might have decided to rob the Orange Blossom Inn no matter what.”

Just imagining that made her shiver. “You're right. I need to stop worrying about what I could have done to prevent it and continue to count my blessings. It could have been much worse.”

Respect lit his eyes. “Good girl. So only your lockbox, television, and DVD player were stolen?”

“Other things were rummaged through, Eric. Someone went through my drawers.” She shivered. “The police think they walked in my closets, too. Why were they looking through my clothes?”

“I imagine they were searching for jewelry and such.”

“I bet if I'd had more items of worth, they would have taken those things, too.”

To her amazement, he looked like he was trying not to smile. “I imagine that is true.”

Hurt, she let go of his hands. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Of course not.”

“Eric, you look amused.” Though he looked concerned about her, there was something in his eyes that told her he thought she was being a bit overdramatic.

“I promise, I'm not amused,” he said quickly. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice. “You know how worried I've been about you.”

“But?”

“But I, um, well, I'm kind of surprised that you're taking all of this so personally. Sometimes robberies are just robberies, you know?”

She shook her head. “
Nee
, I do not.”

“All I'm saying is that someone might have robbed you simply because they needed the money.”

“If that is the case, I have to say that they are going about things the wrong way. They should go get a job.”

His expression turned serious. “Of course. Of course you are right. It's just that sometimes desperate people do desperate things.”

She was about to reiterate that breaking into her inn was the wrong way to handle one's problems when something occurred to her. Eric sounded like he knew what he was talking about. “How do you know so much about this?”

For the first time since they'd started talking, he looked uncomfortable. “I don't. Aren't you ready to go inside?”

She wasn't. Instead, she chose to concentrate on his very un-Eric-like response. He also looked a little embarrassed, but she couldn't ever remember him acting embarrassed about anything.

She decided to give him a way out. “Do you know so much about crime because you live in a big city?”

“Philadelphia is a big city,” he said slowly, “and it can be dangerous. I think most everyone in big cities knows someone who has been a victim of a crime at one time or another.”

“Well, I'm glad I don't live in a big city, then. I hate that this crime has happened to me. It's made me rattled and scared. I wouldn't wish this on anyone.”

“I hate that the inn was robbed, Beverly. I hate that you've been so rattled, too. That's why I came here right away.” His voice was soothing now. “Do you have your key? Let's go inside and see how everything looks.”

She still didn't want to go in, but she felt better with him by her side. Beverly handed him the key and found herself holding her breath when he slid it inside and jiggled it to the right—the
way you had to because it always stuck—then at last turned the knob.

She found herself still holding her breath when they stepped inside.

“Breathe, Bev.”

Immediately, she exhaled and then realized she was having to remind herself to continue to breathe as she looked around the space.

Everything looked just as bad as it had the day before. Glass was still sprinkled on every surface, couch cushions were on the floor, a photo had been knocked over on its side. The glass protecting the picture was shattered.

“Oh, Eric.” And though she'd hoped to be far stronger for him, tears filled her eyes.

“Come here, Beverly,” he coaxed.

But she didn't need any coaxing. Instead of fighting off more tears or pretending that she was going to be fine,
just fine
, by herself, Beverly gave in to temptation and walked to him. She leaned close when he wrapped his arms around her. Slipped her hands around his waist and held on tight. Smelled his fresh cologne.

And almost believed him when he said everything was going to be okay.

“Hey, Effie,” Josiah said as Effie was walking by his seat in the library.

Feeling as flustered as she always did whenever he was around,
she stumbled over her response. “Oh! Hey, Josiah. I almost didn't see you there.” Of course that was a lie. He was sitting in one of the study cubbies near the back of the room. He'd gone there the moment their history class had walked into the media center. Effie knew this because no matter how much she tried, she couldn't seem to end her infatuation with the cutest boy in the seventh grade.

He gestured to an empty chair nearby. “Want to sit down?”

“Sit?”

“Uh, yeah.” He looked at her strangely.

Which, of course, made her feel even more foolish. She really needed to stop always assuming that he was thinking about the braces she wore on her legs. It was obvious that he was simply trying to be nice. Quickly, she sat down. Then, of course, she couldn't think of much to say. Her cheeks started heating up, no doubt staining her cheeks and neck pink, too.

It was beyond embarrassing.

“I wasn't sure if you were going to be here today. I didn't see you on the front lawn this morning.”

All the kids congregated on the school's front lawn until the first bell rang. Though they didn't hang out together, he usually smiled at her whenever their glances met. “I was late.”

“What? Your
mamm
let you sleep in?”

“Kind of. We had a guest stay at our house last night. Miss Overholt came over.”

“Who's that?”

“Beverly Overholt runs the Orange Blossom Inn. My
daed
has done some work at her bed-and-breakfast, and over the last year, my family has gotten to know her better.”

He looked at her curiously. “If she runs the inn, how come she had to stay at your
haus
?”

“Oh! Josiah, it's so sad. Someone broke into her inn yesterday. She was robbed!”

A variety of emotions crossed his face. First he looked stunned, then upset, then kind of distant, almost as if he didn't care. “Is she all right?” he finally asked.

“I think so but she was afraid to be there by herself. So Eric, the owner of the inn, asked my parents to have her stay with them for a night.” As soon as she finished her lengthy, rather convoluted explanation, she noticed that he looked uncomfortable all over again. And no wonder; she'd just given him way more information than he'd asked for. “Sorry. I didn't mean to bore you.”

“You didn't bore me.”

Peering at him more closely, she noticed that his eyes looked a little glassy. Like he was really tired. Or maybe really upset about something. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice turned cold. “Why are you asking?”

Until recently, a question like that would've made her want to apologize about five times and then get up and leave. However, things were different between her and Josiah. They'd grown closer over the last year. Not really close—it wasn't like they saw each other outside school or anything—but they now talked enough at school that she felt comfortable around him.

Comfortable enough for her to act like a real friend.

Almost a year ago, her parents had hosted a party for Zack and Leona. In the middle of it, she'd tripped in her front yard and broken her leg. Josiah had been right there, and had even
visited her at home a couple of times. Then, when she'd been on crutches, he'd offered to carry her books when she had to catch the bus.

Now, here they were in seventh grade, and most people thought they were the oddest pair of friends in the school.

She didn't blame everyone for thinking that. Josiah Yoder was really good-looking. With dark brown hair, light blue eyes, and a perpetual tan, he was just about perfect. He was also pretty much the coolest boy in their class. Everyone liked him, kids who were Amish, Mennonite, and English. She knew it was because he didn't try to be anyone other than who he was. And he seemed to accept everyone.

Even her.

She knew she was seen as the opposite of him. She was shy and awkward around most people. And while pretty much everyone thought he was handsome, she was, well, ordinary. She had long, thick, dark blond hair that was always pinned up under her
kapp
. Violet said Effie's best feature was her dark blue eyes. Effie had to agree, though she was starting to think that maybe her best feature were her hands. She had pretty, slim hands with long fingers. They were in direct contrast to her legs, which were rather spindly and still weak, as a result of her Perthes disease.

Since having broken her leg last year, she'd been wearing braces on her legs again. The braces chafed after several hours, and even though that was a pain, it was nothing compared to the worst consequence: the return of her halting, Frankenstein-like gait. Thankfully, her brothers and mother had been taking her to physical therapy to help her walk more normally. She
spent hours doing exercises and sweating through the pain but was now almost back to where she'd been before the accident.

Still, she hated that her stilted walk was the first thing people noticed about her. Kids her age usually commented on her awkwardness, which was the reason she was shy around most people except for her family.

And except for Josiah Yoder.

With him, Effie was an odd mixture of chatty and bumbling. For some reason, Josiah thought she was funny. He said he liked to talk to her because she didn't expect anything from him. She didn't want to suddenly become popular. She didn't flirt and try to be his girlfriend. Of course she didn't; he was Josiah! She was happy to simply be his friend.

He seemed to feel that way, too. He often told her how much he liked hanging out with her. And one time last summer he'd even said that she was pretty.