The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3) (8 page)

T
he next morning Leah spent the buggy ride to work rehashing the conversation with Rachel in her head. How could she be such a goose? With all the things she’d wanted to share about her new job, she had filled up the time rambling about a dairy farmer two roads away. Even so, she was curious about certain things.
Where did he come from?
If he was Old Order, why hadn’t she seen him at preaching services? Maybe he’d been shunned so long ago he was just an outcast on his grandparents’ farm, never socializing with decent people.

Whoever he was didn’t matter. Leah didn’t want to get riled up over any man. Her sister had lived for years on an emotional roller coaster before marrying James. Leah didn’t even want a
Rumschpringe
after watching Emma fret over one problem after another. Leah had a job, a real job, that did not consist of chasing after sheep all day. But she also didn’t have a minute to spare, considering the breakfast customers who were already pulling into the parking lot when she arrived.

“Guder mariye,” two
voices called out.

Leah jumped down to find Daniel and Steven walking toward her. “Let me unhitch your horse for you,” Daniel said with a tip of his hat brim.

“The diner doesn’t open for another thirty minutes,” she said, reaching for her purse.

Daniel took the reins from her while Steven released the horse from the harness. “We know,” Daniel said, “but we thought we’d be your first customers. It’s auction day.”

“Jah,
I remember.
Danki
for tending to my horse. Please put him in the shady pen around back.” April’s husband had fenced off an area of the backyard for Leah’s horse during the workday.

“I’ve got a brush in my buggy. I’ll rub him down until you open for business.” Steven seemed to be trying to make up for his rude behavior the other day.

When she stepped inside the air-conditioned diner, April was already mixing batter for pancakes while bacon and sausage sizzled in the frying pan. “Those boys arrived fifteen minutes ago,” she said. “Might as well take them some coffee but no food until we open.” Her white prayer
kapp
was already askew and baking powder smudged her nose.

“Do you think it’s wise to encourage them?” Leah asked, slipping an apron over her head.

“Yes, I do. A restaurant lives or dies by its regular customers, so don’t be so inflexible.” April flipped the bacon without spattering the grease.

Properly chastised, Leah carried out two cups of coffee as soon as it finished brewing.

“You read my mind, Miss Miller,” said Steven, taking a long sip.

“It was a very short story, no?” Daniel teased, picking up his mug. “This was very nice of you,
danki.”
He seemed intent on blocking her path back into the diner.

“You’ll have to thank Mrs. Lambright. It was her idea. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll help her open up.” She stepped around him and marched up the steps like a soldier.

“We’re counting the minutes till the sign lights up,” Steven called and then they both laughed.

Leah rolled her eyes, but felt a small thrill. She wasn’t used to this sort of interest.

April is right
—
those two do seem to possess an attraction for me. Probably like mosquitoes to a bug zapper.

Once back inside, she became so busy that she forgot to turn the sign on. Creamers and shakers needed filling. Strawberries had to be washed and sliced. And then April assigned her to the griddle to start pancakes. When a tap on the window drew her attention, Leah ran to unlock the door. Several others had arrived besides the two early birds.

“Thank goodness,” Daniel said. “We couldn’t wait another minute.” The men carried in their mugs and took their usual booth. “Is it pancakes, waffles, or French toast today?” he asked with eyes as round as an owl’s.

“Pancakes,” she said, fighting back a grin.

“My favorite,” said Steven. “Give me the special.”

“You say that no matter which one it is,” Leah said without looking up.

“I’ll have it too,” added Daniel. “Did I mention you look especially pretty today?”

“No need to mention things like that.” She wrote two specials on her pad and then went for the coffeepot.

Soon the diner filled up with people headed to the auction, so for an hour neither woman knew which end was up. When the breakfast crowd cleared out, Leah wiped down the counter with spray cleaner. Someone was sitting in the last booth she hadn’t noticed before. His nose was buried in a newspaper but the top of his head revealed hair as black as a crow’s.

Upon recognition, Leah felt a shiver of excitement. Carrying over the coffeepot, she smoothed her wrinkled apron along the way. “Hello,” she said merrily. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

Jonah Byler set down his paper and glanced up. All of Leah’s aplomb vanished when she looked into those robin’s egg blue eyes. “Hi, Leah. I wanted to see where you worked…to see what kind of a diner needed oddball, artistic cheeses.” His deep dimples reappeared.

“Do you think you might be able to forget those two words?” She tipped the pot to refill his cup. Unfortunately, a moment or two passed before she realized the pot was empty.

He pushed away his oatmeal bowl. “I’ll never bring it up again if you get me some fresh coffee.”

Leah set the carafe down. “How exactly did you find out where I worked? I never mentioned it.” The mysterious man grew ever more so.

He leaned forward and whispered, “I was very clever.” He glanced around to make sure no one was listening to them.

Leah felt a ripple of nervous energy snake up her spine.

“On my way to the barn, I read ‘The Diner, County Road 505, Winesburg, Ohio’ on the side of your boss’ pickup.” He laughed and returned to his newspaper.

With cheeks aflame, Leah stormed into the kitchen. “World’s biggest ninny,” she muttered.

“What was that?” April asked when the door swung closed.

“I’m just talking to myself,” Leah said, beginning to load the dishwasher.

“Since there’s a lull before the lunch rush, talk to me instead.” April set down her rolling pin.

Leah put in the last plates and turned around, hoping her face wasn’t still cherry red.
Am I about to be fired for my inflexibility?

Her boss drew in a breath and appeared to be collecting thoughts. “Things are going much better than I dreamed they would. After that rocky first week, business picked up and has stayed brisk ever since. And I owe it all to you, Leah.”

This wasn’t what she’d expected. After a moment’s pause, Leah said, “Folks love your cooking, April. It’s not just my pies they’re coming in for. Your French toast is lighter and fluffier than mine.”

“Yes, the town was ripe for another eating establishment and my low prices bring in the locals, but many people come back because of you. A restaurant must be more than great food that is fairly priced. You must make people feel welcome and appreciated so they’ll stop in over and over. Your weather reports have become a major hit. That one elderly
Englischer
stops in all the time for coffee, pie, and to find out if it will rain.”

Leah chuckled, grateful that April hadn’t mentioned the Amish fellows stopping in. Her
daed
would make her quit if he found out they came in to flirt. “I finally got the hang of this chitchatting thing.”

“Yes, you have. We make a nice team together, sharing the chores equally. You’re not afraid to work hard, and that’s why I’m offering you a full partnership.”

Not even a cube shifted in the automatic icemaker to break the silence.

Then Leah gathered her wits so she wouldn’t stammer. “I don’t rightly know what to say, April. I’ve only worked here four weeks. You’ve invested your father’s money to get started. I can’t very well barge in after you’ve put your savings on the line.” As soon as the words were out, Leah realized April would know the full extent of her eavesdropping. But it was better she found out now.

April didn’t bat an eyelash. “Yeah, my savings and a loan from Dad, but we could probably work something out if you’re interested in partnering with me.” She tucked her hands into her apron pockets.

Interested in a partnership? In these adorable train cars I fell in love with four years ago? The restaurant where I can try out new pie recipes to my heart’s delight?
Leah didn’t think about checking with her parents or sleeping on the decision or praying for the answer—something that had never failed her in the past. She nodded her head briskly.
“Jah,
I’m interested. I’d love to be your partner!”

April clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful. We make such a great team together, Leah.” She poured two glasses of orange juice.

“But what about the financial end? How’s that going to work? Don’t partners put up money or something? I heard my
bruder
say some Clevelander wanted to buy into Macintosh Farms, but Mr. Mac said ‘no thanks.’”

April cocked her head. “Do you have money to invest, Leah? Do you want to buy in and do things right, legally speaking?”

“Well, sure. I have money saved from selling pies to the auction cafeteria for the past four years. I don’t want people to think I’m some mooch, worming my way in.” She felt buoyed by the adult responsibility.

“I don’t think anybody would think that about you. But just the same, it’s probably a good idea if you invest since I still need to pay the man for those picnic tables.” April handed her a juice glass. “I never thought this place would take off like it has. I’ll be able to pay my father back and you can replace your savings in no time at all. Let’s toast to our deal the way they do on TV.” She clinked Leah’s glass with hers and drank the juice down all at once. “To our partnership!”

Leah had never seen anything like that on TV. The only show she had watched was a baseball game at Mrs. Lee’s until she had dozed off. But she smiled and drank down the juice. “To our partnership!” Leah repeated, hoping her savings would be sufficient. She had no idea what diner partnerships cost these days. “I have three thousand dollars, and I’m willing to invest twenty-five hundred,” she blurted out. “Is that enough?”

April’s head bobbed backward. “You saved three thousand dollars from selling pies to the cafeteria?”

“Jah,
and to the grocery store at the street level.”

“That will be a fine investment.” April put their glasses in the sink and then pulled a bowl of tuna salad from the refrigerator. “I’d better fix a few sandwiches since they’re the daily special.”

“I’ll slice fruit for fruit salad. That always does well on hot days.” Leah turned her cleaver on a watermelon with fervor.

“There’s one more thing,” April said, not taking her focus off the tuna salad.

“What’s that?”

“I decided during the drive in today to change the name of the place, providing you were interested in the partnership. The Diner sounds dreary, the more I thought about it.”

Leah set down the knife. “Change it to what?”

April grinned. “How about Leah’s Home Cooking? It has a wonderful ring to it. And since Amish people are flocking here to see you and partake of your wonderful pies, I thought it would be perfect!”

Leah felt as though she might faint. Every girlhood dream was coming true. God was granting her grace she hadn’t even asked for. It was as if He knew her hopes and wishes, which of course He did. She blushed with embarrassment. “Don’t you think your husband and
daed
would prefer to see your name above the door? After all, it’s still your place and your idea. I came in as an afterthought.”

“Not at all,” April said. “They want whatever will make this restaurant successful, and the new name is a giant step in that direction.”

A tiny voice in Leah’s head cautioned
Slow down. Don’t get too full of yourself.

But she paid no attention to it. Leah’s Home Cooking danced through her head like a nursery rhyme as she sliced up a cantaloupe.

“I’m going to order a new sign after closing. This is so exciting!” April squeezed her shoulders in an impromptu hug. “But now I better check to see if any lunch customers have arrived. I thought I heard the bell above the door.”

It was then that Leah remembered her last customer—reading his newspaper, awaiting more coffee. She nearly chopped off a finger. “I’ll check, April. I need to refill coffee carafes anyway.” She fled through the kitchen door at a run.

But she was too late. The booth of the dark-haired man—the subject of porch swing chatter with Rachel—was empty. He’d left a neatly folded newspaper and a thirty-five-cent tip. Thirty-five cents…Leah didn’t think her service worthy of even that amount.

She’d been a full partner for less than five minutes and she was already chasing customers away.

April watched Leah climb up into her buggy, shake the reins over the horse’s back, and start for home. The girl hadn’t stopped smiling since the break between breakfast and lunch. She’d hummed a tune while scrubbing frying pans and whistled while mopping the floor—two chores that had seldom inspired song in the past.