The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3) (31 page)

“You mentioned the key word—dogs. These are pets that you’re planning to put fake hips into. How many people live in constant pain because they don’t have good insurance or enough money to get these high-fallutin medical gizmos?”

“I see your point, but I’m training to become a vet, not an MD. This grant has nothing to do with clinical studies for humans or the limits of insurance policies or anything like that.” She placed one hand on her own perfectly healthy hip bone.

“But that’s just it—all the money that gets wasted on ridiculous research so that rich folk can indulge their fancy pedigreed dogs. I’ve seen tourists with dogs in baby carriers, dogs wearing knitted coats, and dogs getting expensive grooming and even spa treatments while the rest of the world doesn’t get enough food to eat. Whole villages die of diseases that could be saved with one case of inexpensive antibiotics.”

“Well, I can tell you’ve been attending Mom’s missionary support group,” Lily said, not hiding her tone of disdain. She chose not to mention that Amish ladies knitted those dog coats for tourists to buy.

“Jah,
I have. I never realized how most of the world suffers while this country wastes millions of dollars on junk.” Emma also took a defensive posture.

Lily sighed. “I know you like animals, Emma. I’ve seen you nurse sick sheep with poultices and injections and add supplements to their diets to improve their health.”

“I do like animals. My family takes in every stray dog or cat dropped off in the neighborhood, but Amish folk know where to draw a sensible line. When a dog’s hips wear out, he
should
be put to sleep.” Emma was almost shouting.

The two women stared at each other as an uncomfortable silence spun out. Two different cultures clashed over the unlikely topic of animals.

Finally, Lily spoke. “Perhaps when I’m done with my expensive college education, I will have gained some of your innate common sense, but in the meantime I’m honored to have been chosen for this program, however
stupid
you think it is.” Lily fled the laundry room in tears.

Emma was left standing on the tile floor as regret filled her. She had allowed her temper to flare in a hateful way and had made her bold, independent sister-in-law cry—something she wouldn’t have thought possible.

If Emma could have found a hole big enough, she would have crawled inside it.

L
eah wouldn’t have thought that a person could experience so many emotions during a six-week period, yet she’d known the joy of new love, anger when Jonah stormed out of the singing, shame when forced to examine her behavior, and finally sorrow when Jonah didn’t write or stop at the diner. He’d demanded that she make a choice between her bevy of fans or him.

She’d thought him obstinate and controlling, but he had been right. She had been using Steven, Daniel, and John’s affections to stroke her ego in a vain and prideful fashion. How did a simple Amish girl turn into a competitive, attention-demanding woman? Each time she remembered how flattered she’d been by those boys she felt embarrassed all over again.

It had taken her only a few days to cool down, and when rational thought returned, the answer was clear—she wished to be courted by Jonah Byler. And she told her three admirers that the next time they came to the diner for breakfast.

Once they were seated with menus before them, she announced, “As much as we appreciate your business here, you three can stop all your foolishness…my heart resides elsewhere.”

Not only had they not looked surprised, but Daniel slapped her on the back. “God bless you, Leah, and the lucky man,” he said.

Steven added, “Can’t blame a guy for trying, can ya?”

“I pretty much had that figured out a long time ago,” had been John’s reply. Apparently, she had been the only one wearing blinders.

For the next two weeks she planned her apology to Jonah and made sure she always had Peach Parfait Supreme pie on hand. But after she’d taken the second stale pie home to the sow, she began to think Jonah realized his folly in courting a vain, stubborn woman. He hadn’t come to a singing, social event, or a preaching service since he’d left the Miller farm in a huff. Instead of helping to repair his fractured relationship with the Lord, she had made his alienation worse.

Leah didn’t think anything could hurt as much as a broken heart. The wish that she’d written to Emma about—to spend the rest of her life cooking, baking, and serving meals—had come true. She would become a mere observer of couples and families, of those who had found true love. Yet Leah wasn’t ready to add self-pity to her long list of character flaws. When the breakfast customers cleared out and her tables were clean, she wrote a note of apology to Jonah for her behavior and asked him to come to the hayride Friday night at the Hostetler farm. That is, if he was still speaking to her.

That night she prayed to be delivered from her selfishness and to be given another chance with the tenderhearted dairy farmer. And although she felt she was undeserving, God took pity on her. When she arrived at the Hostetlers, Jonah was sitting on the hitching rail.

“Guder nacht,
Miss Miller.”

“Danki
for coming tonight…and for forgiving me,” she said, forcing herself to look at him.

“Danki
for inviting me…and extending the olive branch. I was hot tempered,” he said.

“I was shallow and vain.”

“I was jealous and impatient.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a grin. “Perhaps we’re not suited to anybody else but each other.”

Leah’s dimples deepened as she smiled. “Maybe we would be doing the rest of the district a favor if we court.” She walked over to him. “Have you been waiting long?” she asked, seeing plenty of buggies already there.

“Since I first read your letter,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

It took Leah a moment before she grinned from ear to ear. “My, I hope Mrs. Hostetler took pity on you and brought out food and a blanket. You should have received my letter days ago.”

“It was worth any physical discomfort. Ready to ride in the hay? They’re loading up right now.” He hooked a thumb toward the barn.

“I’m as ready as I ever will be.” She didn’t mention she’d taken two antihistamine pills. She would rather chance falling asleep than sneezing continuously. As they walked behind the barn where young people were climbing into the hay wagon, Leah didn’t feel like the giddy teenager as before with Jonah. The past weeks of soul-searching had matured her. Hopefully, the changes would stick.

They found a bale to share near the back of the wagon. Because it was still daylight, no couples dared to hold hands or sit too close. Leah and Jonah joined in on a few songs, but when they ended, she contentedly watched the autumn landscape. Red, gold, and orange blazed across the distant hills while the pines remained a green contrast. Most of the corn had been harvested, with the stalks bundled together and tied upright to dry.

“I’m glad you’re still speaking to me after how I behaved,” she whispered.

“I’m glad you picked me over my worthy competition.”

Leah peered at Jonah from the corner of her eye. “Truth is, I’m troubled about more than my vanity lately. I could use some advice about a problem at work.”

He took hold of her hand, not caring who saw his boldness. ‘‘What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened?”

“That’s just it. It’s not one big event, but lots of little things that aren’t quite right. April isn’t being completely honest with me. She says we’re caught up on bills, but late notices and second requests keep arriving in the mail. People that we do business with go into the kitchen to speak with her and come out frowning. And I see her take payment from customers and not ringing up the sale in the register.” She stole a glance at him.

He was watching her closely. “Have you spoken to her about this?”

“No, not about the cash sales, but I have asked about late bills. Her explanations about the situation being temporary aren’t very convincing. My
daed
will be furious if it turns out we owe money to everybody in the county. He once turned around and went back to the feed-n-seed after realizing he had been given five dollars too much in change.”

“You’re April’s partner, right? You have a right to see the books.”

“Books? More like one messy spiral notebook and dozens of papers jammed into a desk drawer. I know a restaurant should keep good records, but we’re always so busy at the diner.”

“She might be keeping accounts at home, updating them nightly. Maybe it only looks like total chaos.”

“I hope that’s the case, but she said her husband gets mad if she spends time at home on diner business. He wasn’t big on her opening the restaurant in the first place. He’s afraid their children will be neglected.”

For a minute or two, both remained quiet while the hay wagon jostled along a potholed stretch of lane. Once or twice Leah was thrown against Jonah’s solid shoulder and took comfort that the chasm between them had been spanned. A weight had been lifted since she’d confessed her troubles to him.

“Leah, it looks like you’ll have to step up to the plate.”

She tried not to scowl. “Please, no baseball analogies. My one trip to a game in Cleveland isn’t my fondest memory.”

“Jah,
I heard about that from
mamm.”

“From your
mamm?
How in the world—” Then Leah remembered her
daed
’s warning about how people loved to gossip. Despite not using telephones, pagers, or the Internet, word managed to travel around the Amish community with lightning speed. “Never mind about that. Just spell out your advice for me.”

“You have to stop nansy-pansying around. If you’re a business partner, demand to see the accounts payable and receivable—what money you owe and what money is owed to the restaurant. Does she ever keep tabs for people—allow them to pay later for meals eaten today?”

“Sure. Sometimes folk run short of cash in town or leave their wallets at home. Or they’re plumb broke until payday.”

Jonah shook is head back and forth. “You think the big buffet lets people do that?”

“No, but that’s the difference between a restaurant catering to English tourists and the local diner serving regular folk.”

Jonah laughed without humor. “But that could also be why the buffet has been in business for thirty years and has expanded three times. At least twenty people work for them now.”

Leah leaned back against the wagon slats. This was their first time together in more than a month. Even though she’d brought the subject up, she didn’t want to spend the entire hayride talking about problems at work. Especially not if she looked weak or irresponsible. “I agree with you, Jonah, but I’m nervous about causing trouble. She might think I don’t trust her…which I guess is exactly how things are. She might lose her temper and dissolve the partnership. I’m not sure what that would mean regarding the money I invested.” Her final admission had been so soft she wasn’t sure if he’d heard.

“Leah, your investment could already be long gone. If you suspect April is mishandling the money, you must come forward and say something. Step forward in faith, even if it means losing your job. Wasn’t that the advice you gave me a while back? Make a choice…is the diner worth more than your self-respect?”

He leaned back against the bales too, and pulled her head to his shoulder. “Enough about that. Let’s just enjoy the hayride.”

Silently they watched the landscape fade to purple and then total darkness. The evening star rose low on the horizon while the crickets and cicadas began their nightly chorus. The lively conversation and raucous laughter of the group diminished to hushed whispers. Couples snuggled, while single men talked in low voices and girls hummed hymns softly. The hoot of an owl, the cry of a coyote, the faraway blare of a car horn intruded only briefly on Leah and Jonah’s time together.

Despite feeling safe tucked against Jonah’s side, Leah’s mind filled with new worries. Now that she had sought his advice, was she brave enough to take it?
Step forward in faith.
Leah believed those words with her whole heart. But like most things in life, it was much easier said than done.