Authors: Charlotte Hubbard
Tags: #Restaurants, #Christian Fiction, #Amish, #Betrothal, #Love Stories, #Religious, #General, #Triplets, #Fiction, #Amish & Mennonite, #Christian, #Romance
Summer of Secrets (13 page)
Rachel gazed into the eyes that were focused on hers. “Not easy findin’ out that Mamm and Dat kept that secret, either, ya know.”
“I suspect the brethren had a say in that. Since your
dat
was a deacon and all.” He cleared his throat, thinking. “I’m guessin’ it’s takin’ a toll on your
mamm
, too, havin’ to bear the brunt of this alone. She’s looked a little worn around the edges this week, even though she’s wantin’ to catch up to her lost daughter.”
dat
was a deacon and all.” He cleared his throat, thinking. “I’m guessin’ it’s takin’ a toll on your
mamm
, too, havin’ to bear the brunt of this alone. She’s looked a little worn around the edges this week, even though she’s wantin’ to catch up to her lost daughter.”
“The bishop’s got ideas about that, too.” Rachel made a face in the darkness as she recalled Hiram Knepp’s stern reprimands when he’d cornered the two of them in the smithy the other night ... not to mention how upset Mamma had been after he’d left.
Micah smiled gently. He ran a tender fingertip alongside her face. “
I’ve
got ideas, Rache,” he whispered, “and they’ve got nothin’ to do with anybody but you and me. Know what I mean?”
I’ve
got ideas, Rache,” he whispered, “and they’ve got nothin’ to do with anybody but you and me. Know what I mean?”
A little shimmer went through her and she dropped her gaze.
“If you’re wantin’ me to kiss and make up with ya, honey-love, ya better give me the go-ahead,” he murmured. “I don’t wanna take somethin’ ya don’t wanna give me, just because
I
want it so bad. Your forgiveness, that is. And then your kisses.”
I
want it so bad. Your forgiveness, that is. And then your kisses.”
Rachel gazed into his handsome face. Where would her dreams be if the brethren banned Micah from speaking and eating with his family and friends in the church—and her? What would happen to their anticipated wedding day? And what would happen if she didn’t forgive him right now? Would he look for someone else on the outside?
Is that somethin’ you really want to find out?
Rachel nipped her lip. Micah had explained and was apologizing, after all. He’d been very calm and compassionate—about her feelings and Tiffany’s, as well. Where most men would expect her to go along with their own wishes—or wouldn’t have admitted going to see Tiffany at all—Micah had confessed even the questionable details of his situation. He’d tended to business he felt was far more important than an ice-cream social ... and wasn’t it, after all? Hadn’t her sister’s appearance changed all their lives, whether they liked it or not?
He’s takin’ the high road here. Are you gonna walk it with him, or get left behind?
Rachel smiled and cupped his jaw. “How do ya put up with my whinin’, Micah?” she whispered with a sigh. “Sometimes I get so wound up, I—well, your
dat
irritated me right off by sayin’ not to whittle ya down too far—”
dat
irritated me right off by sayin’ not to whittle ya down too far—”
She stopped there. No need to go into Ezra Brenneman’s rant, because this moment
was
just between her and Micah. Softly she kissed him, and felt the sweet relief of his affection easing away the tension of this entire evening. Why had she doubted him? As he wrapped his strong arms around her, settling in for the kind of kissing they both so enjoyed, Rachel smiled inside. Mamma was right: Micah was steadfast and gentle, a man with a plan for taking care of her for all their lives. A man who could rise above her petty remarks and excuses for not being the best woman she could be. He deserved a wife who would support his ideas and believe in him ... believe he had the best of intentions, no matter how things might look on the surface.
was
just between her and Micah. Softly she kissed him, and felt the sweet relief of his affection easing away the tension of this entire evening. Why had she doubted him? As he wrapped his strong arms around her, settling in for the kind of kissing they both so enjoyed, Rachel smiled inside. Mamma was right: Micah was steadfast and gentle, a man with a plan for taking care of her for all their lives. A man who could rise above her petty remarks and excuses for not being the best woman she could be. He deserved a wife who would support his ideas and believe in him ... believe he had the best of intentions, no matter how things might look on the surface.
Rachel sighed as he held her close. Being
in
love felt so much better than fearing she’d been left out of it.
in
love felt so much better than fearing she’d been left out of it.
Chapter 14
Miriam smiled as she drove the wagonload of Mason jars and canning supplies to the back entrance of the café. The Sweet Seasons had done a brisk lunch business for a summer Monday, and after they’d gone home for dinner with their families, she and Naomi were returning to hold a canning frolic. What with the larger cookstoves here, the commercial dishwasher, and the tables and chairs in the dining room, the café was the perfect place for the women of Willow Ridge to put up large quantities of vegetables from their gardens, which were now in their peak season.
It pleased her to offer her friends a place where this work would be easier, a way to repay their many favors since Jesse had passed. The evening wasn’t as humid as usual, and with the long, late rays of the sun illuminating the trees after a gentle rain, Miriam felt as shiny as the green leaves all around her. Maybe it was this recent reuniting with her Rebecca, or maybe time had finally eased her grieving heart: she felt
good
again. Happy. At peace with her situation, and confident God would show her what came next when the time was right.
good
again. Happy. At peace with her situation, and confident God would show her what came next when the time was right.
“And here we are again, dearie.” Naomi smiled as she came through the doorway holding a tub of fresh watermelon slices for their break. Mammi Brenneman entered with her, carrying deep baskets of canning lids and rings. “I hear tell we’ve got bushels and bushels of tomatoes comin’ tonight. My Hannah corralled the younger Zook kids, and they picked and snapped string beans all day long. Hope we’ve got lots of pressure cookers comin’.”
Miriam looked up from the first load of hot, shiny jars she’d run through the dishwasher. “Mighty
gut
to see ya, Adah!” she said, greeting her best friend’s mother-in-law. “Probably best to do tomatoes on one stove and beans on the other. Maybe keep the tomato mess here by the sinks whilst we pack beans into their jars over by the serving window.”
gut
to see ya, Adah!” she said, greeting her best friend’s mother-in-law. “Probably best to do tomatoes on one stove and beans on the other. Maybe keep the tomato mess here by the sinks whilst we pack beans into their jars over by the serving window.”
“
Jah
. Did that last year, as I recall. Worked out wonderful-
gut
.” Naomi’s brown eyes sparkled as she set her watermelon in the refrigerator. “Micah said he and Aaron had some weldin’ to do tonight for a special project. You wouldn’t know anythin’ about that, would ya?”
Jah
. Did that last year, as I recall. Worked out wonderful-
gut
.” Naomi’s brown eyes sparkled as she set her watermelon in the refrigerator. “Micah said he and Aaron had some weldin’ to do tonight for a special project. You wouldn’t know anythin’ about that, would ya?”
“Can’t say as I do. Just glad Rachel was in a good mood this mornin’,” Miriam replied with a chuckle. “She was fit to be tied when Micah didn’t show Saturday night.”
“
Jah
, he heard about that from his
dat
and me, too. It’s one thing to reach out and be kind to your Rebecca,” her friend said with a nod, “but he’s invitin’ another kinda trouble altogether, gettin’ mixed up with sisters. Especially considerin’ ... well—”
Jah
, he heard about that from his
dat
and me, too. It’s one thing to reach out and be kind to your Rebecca,” her friend said with a nod, “but he’s invitin’ another kinda trouble altogether, gettin’ mixed up with sisters. Especially considerin’ ... well—”
“You can say it out loud, Naomi. She’s not the same Rebecca that Jesse and I woulda raised, but it’s mighty fine to see her alive, ain’t so?” Miriam grinned and then nodded toward the window. “Grab the door, will ya? Leah’s got an armload of tomatoes!”
And behind Miriam’s sister came Mammi Kanagy and the three Schrocks, along with Lydia Zook and her two older girls. Rachel and Rhoda arrived with Hannah Brenneman and the huge washtubs of green beans they’d cleaned today. Most of these women had worked together through so many garden seasons that they fell into small groups, chattering as they boiled and peeled the tomatoes on the north side of the kitchen or processed beans at the serving window counter. The little girls prepared lids and rings while their big sisters and mothers formed assembly lines that filled the hot jars and then loaded them into the cookers like clockwork.
Wiping her damp brow on her rolled sleeve, Miriam smiled with satisfaction. While any one of them could’ve hosted this frolic in her kitchen, they had so much more space to work with here at the café—and to put out the hot, finished jars on towel-covered tabletops in the dining room. In the café’s back corner, the smaller children played or wrote on the whiteboard while the two grandmas, Adah Brenneman and Essie Kanagy wrote out date labels for tonight’s jars. It was a wonderful thing, the way every woman could join in and feel welcome and useful.
Come time to go home, everyone would have several quarts of beans and tomatoes, the work made easier because it was a form of fellowship ... a time to ask about Rebecca, too, and then speculate about how Preacher Hostetler was faring without his wife, and to share ideas about how to use up the overabundance of zucchini in all their gardens.
“I’m thinkin’ a freezin’ frolic’s in order,” Lydia suggested. “Henry cleared me some space in the butcherin’ locker to store rhubarb or corn or grated zucchini. Whatever you’ve a mind to bring, if your own freezers are full.”
“Don’t know about your house,” Leah chimed in, “but we’ve about reached our limit of stuffed zucchini and sautéed zucchini and zucchini fritters and—”
“
Jah
, mine are turnin’ up their noses at limas and yella squash now, too.”
Jah
, mine are turnin’ up their noses at limas and yella squash now, too.”
“There it is! Got all our canners filled and cookin’!” Naomi announced above the chatter. “I’m thinkin’ a slice of cold watermelon sounds mighty
gut
.”
gut
.”
“
Jah
, let’s all sit a spell and—”
Jah
, let’s all sit a spell and—”
The exhaust fan overhead stopped. “Miriam, I’d like a word with you.”
All eyes turned toward the doorway, where Hiram Knepp stood as though he were silently taking attendance at a Sunday church service. Miriam sighed inwardly, but there was no putting off the bishop: after the way he’d suggested the Sweet Seasons might be leading her away from her true purpose, she knew better than to challenge him in front of all these women.
“When would be a
gut
time?” she asked with more patience than she felt. “We’re smack in the middle of our cannin’. Got lots more to go yet.”
gut
time?” she asked with more patience than she felt. “We’re smack in the middle of our cannin’. Got lots more to go yet.”
His dark eyes singled her out in the middle of the crowded kitchen. “Deacon Reihl, Preacher Hostetler, and I have discussed how the café might be keeping you from finding a husband ... fulfilling yourself as a woman in God’s holy order of things,” he intoned. “We’ll be here when you close tomorrow afternoon. Two o’clock sharp.”
Miriam’s friends looked at her, silent questions in their eyes, and then focused on the bishop again. They knew better than to object or to stand up for her—if indeed they felt Bishop Knepp was overstating his case. She and Naomi and the three Schrocks were the only women here who ran shops full-time, so the rest of them had no such worldly concerns taking them away from their families. Lydia and Henry Zook simply brought their children to the market: the older ones had worked there since they’d been able to make change and reach the cash register.
“I’ll be here,” she replied. Why did she feel like a sinner being ordered to her knees? She detested the way her heart flailed in her chest while her pulse galloped like a runaway mare.
“And you, Annie Mae, are coming home with me!” Hiram continued sternly. “Your dear mother taught you better than to race out of the house with the kitchen in a mess.”
“But, Dat, I asked—” The dark-haired girl who was rinsing tomato seeds from the sink let out an exasperated sigh. “Nellie said she’d redd up because she didn’t want to come cannin’ with us—”
“And as the eldest, are you not ultimately responsible for the household?”
Miriam sighed, feeling the painful burden the bishop’s daughter bore. Not only had Annie Mae lost her own mother when she was a young girl, she’d also begun her
rumspringa
—her running-around years—after her father remarried: Hiram’s second wife had been but a few years older than Annie Mae when the bishop started a second family. At nineteen, this sensitive young woman appeared worn beyond her years and ... bitter. A troublesome combination of traits now that she had to nurture her two full sisters as well as four motherless half siblings, who’d always seemed exempt from the rules and responsibilities her father imposed upon her.
rumspringa
—her running-around years—after her father remarried: Hiram’s second wife had been but a few years older than Annie Mae when the bishop started a second family. At nineteen, this sensitive young woman appeared worn beyond her years and ... bitter. A troublesome combination of traits now that she had to nurture her two full sisters as well as four motherless half siblings, who’d always seemed exempt from the rules and responsibilities her father imposed upon her.
“Coming, Dat,” Annie Mae murmured.
An uncomfortable silence rang in the kitchen, underscored by the bubbling of the pressure cookers. When Bishop Knepp had walked most of the way to his buggy, someone flipped on the exhaust fan again and the women resumed their conversations in a quieter tone.
“I’ll bring your beans and tomatoes by on my way home,” Rhoda assured her friend.
“Jah
.
Denki.”
Annie Mae left the kitchen, her lips pressed into a tight line as she wiped her hands on her apron.
.
Denki.”
Annie Mae left the kitchen, her lips pressed into a tight line as she wiped her hands on her apron.
“That one’s gonna be trouble if Hiram don’t watch how he handles her,” Eva Schrock predicted dourly.
“And what’s he sayin’ about
you
, Miriam?” Lydia Zook asked with a scowl. “If he’s thinkin’ women have no place runnin’ a business—insistin’ they stay home to clean and cook and make babies until they die—well, I could tell him a thing or two about how our store
really
gets managed!”
you
, Miriam?” Lydia Zook asked with a scowl. “If he’s thinkin’ women have no place runnin’ a business—insistin’ they stay home to clean and cook and make babies until they die—well, I could tell him a thing or two about how our store
really
gets managed!”
“
Jah
, and you can be sure Reuben, my cousin on the Reihl side, is gonna understand just how much business the Sweet Seasons brings the rest of us with shops in Willow Ridge,” Mary Schrock piped up. “Out here in the sticks, if we don’t have a place for tourists to eat, or just wet their whistles, they most likely won’t bother stoppin’ at all. Just as easy to go to the convenience store at the gas station up the way.”
Jah
, and you can be sure Reuben, my cousin on the Reihl side, is gonna understand just how much business the Sweet Seasons brings the rest of us with shops in Willow Ridge,” Mary Schrock piped up. “Out here in the sticks, if we don’t have a place for tourists to eat, or just wet their whistles, they most likely won’t bother stoppin’ at all. Just as easy to go to the convenience store at the gas station up the way.”
Miriam nodded her thanks to these friends, ever so grateful for their understanding and support. Surely if Mary told her cousin, the deacon, about the financial implications of removing her from this roadside eatery, where the Brenneman boys attracted so many buyers for their cabinet shop, and folks who’d finished their meals then wandered into the quilt shop next door ...
But she knew better than to second-guess Hiram Knepp. The bishop and her husband, Deacon Jesse, had spent enough time out in the smithy with the preachers, discussing the business of the People, that she’d seen firsthand how this man of God conducted his earthly affairs.
Miriam sat down at a table, amongst her friends, and closed her eyes gratefully over her first bite of cold, crisp watermelon.
This business with the bishop is in Your hands, God ... but I for sure and for certain would appreciate help with the right words.
This business with the bishop is in Your hands, God ... but I for sure and for certain would appreciate help with the right words.
As she smiled at the children in back, who scribbled on the dry-erase board below the day’s menu, it came to her: the way to a man’s heart was still through his stomach ... and a fellow who oversaw the welfare of hundreds of church members couldn’t argue against a ledger filled with solid, black figures.
Could he?
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