The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3) (6 page)

L
eah felt ninety years old one Tuesday morning in May, but she didn’t dare catch an extra forty winks of sleep. Yesterday she’d finished the family laundry almost single-handedly and had baked for both her family and the restaurant. At noon, April would pick her up in her truck for a whirlwind lesson on shopping for a diner. They planned to visit a local butcher, produce vendor, and stop for lunch at the buffet to see what the competition was doing. Leah swallowed two aspirin, rubbed lotion into her reddened hands, and hurried downstairs.

Julia had breakfast almost ready.
“Guder mariye,”
she said. “I’ll bet you slept well last night.” She set a bowl of scrambled eggs and plate of bacon on the table.

“I would’ve helped you,
mamm.
You should’ve waited.” Leah reached for a piece of toast.

“I’m not helpless. I can still cook breakfast for my family…unless you only eat fancy recipes these days.” Julia winked at her across the table.

“Nothing’s very fancy in our diner. The kitchen’s too small. I can’t wait until
daed
brings you to town to try it out.”

“He said he’ll wait for you to work out the kinks on unsuspecting folk and then we’ll stop in.”

Leah and her mother shared a hearty laugh. “This afternoon I’m going shopping with April. Is that all right?”

“Jah,
but don’t make a habit of going off every Tuesday. That wasn’t what we agreed upon.”

“Don’t worry. She’s just giving me an idea of how she runs things.” Leah sipped her coffee and enjoyed a meal cooked by someone else for a change. After washing the breakfast dishes, she had enough time to sweep the floor, iron some shirts and dresses, and bake two Dutch apple pies.

When April picked her up promptly at noon, Leah’s education in restaurant supply began in earnest. They visited a poultry farm and a beef processor but placed only small orders because their freezer space was limited. In both cases April signed her name to a paper instead of giving cash or writing a check.

“Why did they let you leave without paying?” Leah asked in a whisper.

“I’ve set up accounts here,” April explained while they loaded the meat into ice chests. “It’s how the world does business. It’s so much easier.”

“How did you learn all this?”

“I took a course on business administration and another on restaurant management at the community college. I loved going to school, but my husband said a couple classes should be enough.”

Leah nodded. She had loved school too and had wished an Amish education didn’t stop after the eighth grade. But like her
daed
said, “Just because you stop going to school doesn’t mean you have to stop learning.” She would get quite an education at the diner.

“It’s been almost four weeks that you’ve worked for me. How do you like the job so far?” April asked once they were back on the county road.

“I love it!” Leah answered without hesitation. “At first I didn’t like all that chitchatting with the customers, but I’m getting used to it. Everybody sure wants to talk, don’t they.”

April laughed. “Yeah, they do. Farming is a solitary occupation, so when they come to town they want company. And the Amish young men like talking to you, but that has nothing to do with them being surrounded by draft horses all day.”

Leah pursed her lips. “Well, what does it have to do with?” She wasn’t sure she liked where the conversation was headed.

“I know Old Order doesn’t spend much time looking at themselves in mirrors, but you do have a hand mirror, don’t you?”

Leah turned on the seat and frowned. “Of course I do.”

April glanced at her from the corner of her eye and then refocused on the road. “You’re very pretty, Leah. Why else do you think all these young men keep stopping in?”

Leah crossed her arms and stared out the window. Spring was in glorious full bloom. Every tree had opened with thousands of tender green leaves. “I thought they enjoyed our cooking. You said folk like my pies.”

“Yes, that’s part of it.”

“My sister, Emma, is the pretty one. I planned to have a career in case I don’t find somebody to marry.” She stole a glance at her boss.

“There’s nothing wrong with being pretty as long as it doesn’t go to your head. And I don’t think you should worry about not finding a husband.”

“Where are we going now?” Leah was eager to change the subject. They turned down a township road not far from the one on which she lived.

“We’re going right here.” April pulled down a tree-lined lane that led to a tidy white farmhouse and smaller
dawdi haus.
The absence of power lines indicated Old Order, while a windmill to pump water to the house from the well meant they weren’t the more conservative Swartzentrubers.

“What are we buying?” Huge fenced pastures, rolling as far as one could see, plus a very long one-story barn indicated a dairy operation.

“Cheese,” April replied. “The woman who lives here makes the best cheese. At least she used to. She’s getting up there in years, but she made a yogurt-cultured cheese that’s wonderful to bake with.”

Leah’s interest was piqued. “I think I sampled some once at a work frolic.”

When they climbed out of the truck, April peered around and then instructed, “You go to the dairy barn. I’ll check up at the house and back garden. This time of year she could be anywhere.”

Leah wandered down the well-worn path to the barn. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the honeysuckle growing along the trellis. She kept her distance from the rest of the blossoms. Because the door stood ajar, Leah figured this was where the elderly lady might be and walked in boldly. “Hello?” She cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered, “Is anybody here?”

“Jah,
what’s all the yelling about?” A tall, dark-haired young man stood up with a scrub brush in one hand. He wasn’t more than ten feet away, but he had been hidden from view by a half wall.

They locked gazes and stared at one another until Leah glanced away, blushing. “Beg your pardon. I was looking for an older woman. That’s why I was speaking loudly.”

He scratched at his clean-shaven chin. “Do you shout at all old people or just at my
mammi?”
Dimples deepened in his olive-toned complexion.

With nearly black hair, he had a Mediterranean appearance, or how she pictured people living in the Holy Land might look.
Except for his clear blue eyes.
They grabbed her attention and held on to it like thistle burrs on cotton socks. She couldn’t turn away. “I believe she’s the first
mammi
I’ve ever yelled at. I thought she might be hard of hearing.”

The man set his brush on the wall and then wiped his hands on a towel. “Oh, no, not at all. She has uncannily good hearing. Don’t try to whisper something behind her back or it will never stay a secret.”

Leah giggled unwittingly. “I’ll keep that in mind. What are you doing?” She glanced around but saw no livestock.

“I’m scrubbing down the equipment with bleach—sterilizing it so it’ll be ready for the next milking.”

Leah again peered around. “But where are your cows?”

“They’re out in the pasture eating grass like good cows are supposed to. Do you live in town or something? Maybe over the grocery store or behind the grain elevator?”

Leah blushed to the roots of her hair. Truthfully, she had no idea why she was asking such inane questions, but the mysterious man with piercing blue eyes had caught her off guard. “No, I live on a farm,” she said, rubbing her forehead, “but I keep mainly to the house due to my allergies.”

“Jah,
that makes sense.” He walked around the half wall until he stood only five feet away. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, and she noticed that he had big hands and very broad shoulders. She couldn’t stop herself from staring.

He stared back with one eyebrow lifted questioningly. “What are you doing, miss? Why are you searching for my grandmother?” He slipped his hands beneath his suspenders.

“Oh, sorry. I was looking for her to buy some kind of oddball cheese. April—that’s my boss—said it’s a variety of artsy cheese. She bought it from her a while back. My boss went up to the house and sent me in this direction.” The tickle in Leah’s nasal passages that she’d been fighting back had grown unbearable. Suddenly she released an explosive “Ah choo!”

“Gesundheit
! My
mammi
never sets foot inside a barn unless it’s something mighty urgent.”

Leah felt her nose start to run in an unladylike fashion while her eyes began to itch. The animal dander in the air had found its mark. She sneezed again while her eyes watered as though she were crying over a sad story.

“Let’s step out into fresh air.” He practically dragged her outside as she held a handkerchief over her nose.

They walked away from the barn toward the pasture fence. Leah tried to focus through blurry vision.
“Danki,”
she murmured, sucking air into her lungs. “Much better out here.”

“Well…there they are,” he said in lazy fashion.

“Who?” Leah asked, glancing left and right.

“My cows, of course. Two hundred head of them, doing exactly what I had predicted.”

Leah focused on where he pointed, even though occupants of pastures seldom held much interest. There—grazing, frisking, wandering aimlessly, or lying in the shade—were more Holstein cows than she’d ever seen before on an Amish farm. She counted at least three dozen calves. “My goodness. Aren’t you Old Older, same as me? Do you milk all those cows by hand?”

He appeared to be biting the inside of his cheek. “No, I have equipment powered by a diesel generator. We run generators for the milking apparatus but don’t use them for anything else.”

“What about keeping the milk cold?”

He leaned both forearms on the fence rail. With his sleeves rolled up from cleaning chores, Leah could see his arms were tanned and muscular.

“We have one gas-powered cooling tank for the milk we turn into yogurt cheese. But it would cost too much in diesel fuel to provide refrigeration for grade-A milk certification. We sell our milk to cheese producers same as most Amish except for what my
mamm
uses to make specialty cheeses.” He studied her from the corner of his eye.

“Jah,
that’s why we stopped here today.” Leah tucked her handkerchief back up her sleeve; the sneezing fit had subsided.

Just then April and another woman appeared around the corner of the barn. “There you are!” April called, sounding relieved. “I feared you’d fallen into a milk tank or worse.”

Leah felt guilty for no reason and thought she should explain. “I couldn’t find the lady you wanted, but I found her grandson.” She pointed him out so there would be no confusion.

The grandson tipped his hat and walked by Leah’s side as they approached the two women. “She found me fair and square, but I really wasn’t trying to hide,” he said.

Everyone but Leah laughed.
Is it possible to say anything today that doesn’t make me sound like a ninny?

“This is my
mamm,
Joanna Byler. She is the one who makes the oddball cheeses now that
mammi
has retired.”

“Oddball?” Mrs. Byler demanded. “There’s nothing oddball about my cheese.” She smiled but placed both hands on her hips.

Leah’s mouth went dry. “I meant artistic, ma’am. Didn’t mean no offense.”

Joanna’s brows knitted together over the bridge of her nose. “Artistic? Like one of those painters who wear funny hats and dab paint on an easel?”

April furrowed her forehead. “You’ll have to excuse her. Leah’s newly hired and just learning the terminology of the business.”

“No harm done.” Mrs. Byler turned and headed toward the house. “Let’s load your truck from the walk-in refrigerator in the cellar. I’ve got a Van Gogh of a cheddar I think you might like. Or maybe it’s a Salvador Dali.”

“Please come help, Leah,” April called over her shoulder.

“I’ll help too. And, by the way, my name’s Jonah. I’m glad your boss let your name slip since you didn’t seem willing to tell me.” He stuck out his hand as they walked.

For a moment Leah stared and then gave it a quick shake. She had shaken more hands during the past four weeks than in all her life previously put together. “Leah Miller,” she murmured, “but I wish you hadn’t said oddball cheese to your
mamm.”

“But that’s what you called it, Miss Miller.”

“I know I did, but only because I’d forgotten the right word.” She was growing exasperated.

“Artisan?” he asked. “That’s what the advertisement calls it.” He remained cool with a voice as silky as water flowing over smooth rocks.

“Jah,
that’s it. Why use such a fancy word?”

“My grandmother says English people like big words, so you could charge an extra dollar per pound by giving it a fancy name.”

Leah stopped on the path even though her boss and the cheese-maker had disappeared from sight. “That doesn’t sound like a nice thing to do.”

“I said you
could
charge it, not that we do. Are you saying my
mammi’s
not a nice person?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Hush,” she begged, “before you get me fired. I really like this job. I’m sure she is the nicest woman in Holmes County.” Leah felt as though she were baling out a leaky rowboat. “Could you please go back to whatever you were doing before I interrupted you?”

“I thought I would help load the cheese order.” His blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

“No, I’ll do that. If you help anymore, I’ll be looking for another job. Please?”

“All right, but only because you said ‘please,’ Leah Miller.” He turned and walked away.

Leah watched until he disappeared inside the barn.
How does one develop such a calm demeanor?
She certainly didn’t posses one as she ran all the way to the house. She was breathless by the time she found the door to the walkout basement.

April and Mrs. Byler were already carrying out boxes of cheese. “There you are,” April said. “We feared you’d gotten lost again. Why don’t you just close the door behind us? We have this handled.”