“Jah. You’ve got the same color eyes as he had. Even the way you twitch your nose when you don’t want to say what’s on your mind is the same as he used to do.”
Florence laughed. “I never even knew that.”
“It’s true.” He leaned forward. “What do you think of Isaac and Joy?”
“I think they make the perfect couple.”
“We rarely see him at home. He’s mostly over at your place for dinner every night.”
Florence nodded. “He’s already one of the family. I’d be happy to see them married. They suit each other just fine.”
“I can’t believe Mercy and Honor are married.”
“Me neither. They’re so young.” Florence let out a sigh.
“There’s nothing wrong with getting married young. See it as a blessing that they found the right person when they were in the prime of their youth. They can grow together in love and in Gott’s ways.”
Florence nodded. “That’s right—it's a good way to look at it. I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he said with an impish grin.
Florence giggled. She was no closer to finding out about their mother and what she was like, or why Gerald Braithwaite wrote that letter to her, but she felt better after talking to her big brother. “I should go and let you get back to work.”
“Okay. It was nice to see you.”
“It’s nice to talk to you, just the two of us without being surrounded by people all the time.” She stood up and so did Mark. He came around the table and gave her a quick brotherly hug.
“Denke for stopping by, Florence.”
She gave him a little nudge with her shoulder. “Denke, Mark.”
Chapter 2
When Joy heard the sound of a car on the driveway, she ran to the door and looked out. She was hoping it was Cherish, their youngest sister, somehow set free from the grip of Aunt Dagmar and her farm in the middle of nowhere.
It wasn’t.
It was a delivery van! And the driver, sporting a baseball cap and baggy overalls, was opening the back doors of the van. Curious, she walked over to him. He looked up at her without a hint of a smile on his weather-worn face.
“Is this the Baker residence?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’ve got a flower delivery.”
Immediately, her heart raced with gladness. She was the only one in her family who had a boyfriend. Isaac, the kind and caring man that he was, had sent her flowers. It made her fall in love with him all the more. Even more delighted was she when the man pulled out a huge white box full to the brim with red long-stemmed roses. There must’ve been four dozen of them.
“I can’t believe this. They’re so beautiful. I can’t believe he’d do a thing like this. He doesn’t make much money and they must’ve cost him a fortune.”
She giggled as the man put the box into her outstretched arms.
“Enjoy your flowers, Florence Baker.”
“Florence?”
Neither his expression changed, nor the tone of his voice. “The delivery is for Florence Baker.”
Her heart sank into the bottom of her boots. “Did you really say Florence?”
“Yes. You said this is the Baker residence?”
“It is,” she snapped, due to the man being slightly intimidating.
“Does Florence Baker live here?”
“Yes, she’s my sister.”
“I’ll leave ‘em with you then.” He turned to leave.
“Do I need to sign something?”
“No.”
“Thank you,” she called after him as he kept walking. He wasn’t stopping for anybody; probably rushing off to the next delivery so he could finish for the day.
He looked over, gave her a brief nod, slammed the van doors shut, and got into the front seat.
Joy stood there with an armful of beautiful flowers as she watched the van head back down the driveway. Now she was bitterly disappointed.
Why couldn’t the flowers have been from Isaac?
In the brief moment that she’d thought they were for her and from him, she’d felt special, loved. She’d always wanted the kind of man who would’ve done something surprising and delightful, like sending her flowers for no reason at all. Isaac had given her flowers before and they were beautiful, but that was a long time ago. As she stood there stunned and staring down the road, her two younger sisters joined her.
“Oooh, look at them,” Favor said, reaching her hand out to feel them.
Joy moved the flowers away.
“Are those from Isaac?” Hope asked.
She turned to face her sisters directly, doing her best to hide her disappointment. “They’re for Florence.”
“Florence? Who would’ve given them to her?” Favor tugged the edge of the box.
“I don’t know.” Joy walked toward the house with her sisters on either side. When she was inside, she said, “I’ll put them on the table so Florence will see them when she opens the door.”
“There’s an envelope there,” Hope said.
“Let’s see who it’s from,” Favor said with a giggle.
“Don’t you dare touch that!” Joy was horrified at her younger sisters. “That note’s for Florence. That would be as bad as opening someone’s mail.” Turning her back on them, she placed the small envelope next to the flowers before she turned to face them. “Don’t touch the flowers or the envelope.” Then she headed to the kitchen to help Mamm with the baking.
Chapter 3
Florence felt a little better for her visit to her brother. From his face, she had known he was still upset and affected by their mother’s untimely death all those years ago. They both barely remembered her but that didn’t mean they didn’t miss her every single day. The most painful thing for Florence was that she didn’t remember her face. How she ached for a photograph—a snapshot frozen in time. All she could do was guess what her mother looked like by looking at her two older brothers and from her own reflection. Somehow, she knew her mother had loved her like only a mother could; that was a comfort.
The boys had never been close with Wilma like she was. Wilma had tried hard, but the boys had never connected with her despite staying closely connected to their father.
It was for that reason Florence couldn’t understand why neither of her brothers showed an interest in the orchard, but still, that had worked out better for her. Being older than she, one of her brothers could’ve easily taken over the orchard and where would that have left her? She preferred to be the one in charge and not the one who took orders.
Now the orchard was hers to run entirely alone. Her father had taught her everything he knew. If she was undecided about something, she’d almost hear his voice in her head, leading her and guiding her until she was satisfied she’d made the right choice.
It was a challenge running the orchard, the household and the store on her own, but it had to be done. Wilma wasn’t capable of much. She was a different person now, ever since Dat had died. She used to be outgoing and cheerful, and now she seemed half the person she had once been.
As a treat, Florence stopped at a café and ordered take-out cappuccinos for Mamm and her sisters. After she ordered them, she waited for them to be made. Looking around the café, she saw that everyone was part of a couple. All of them, except for one woman with two toddlers she could barely control. Florence smiled at the children's antics, at the same time feeling sorry for the frustrated mother. She was reminded of the story Wilma told her of her sister who left the community after she found out she was pregnant. She’d later turned up on Wilma’s doorstep, and Wilma had followed Amish custom and turned her away. Something, Wilma had said, that she regretted to this day. What had become of Wilma’s sister and the baby? Florence knew that Wilma secretly hoped her sister would return one day.
“Miss. Miss?”
Florence turned around and looked at the barista, jolted from her thoughts.
“Coffees are ready.”
“Ah, thank you.”
She picked up the large tray with the coffees all fitted neatly in their slots to avoid spillage. Before she headed out the door, she got a few strange looks but, being Amish, she often got those. A nice man jumped up from his seat and opened the glass door for her, giving her a big smile. She thanked him and headed to her waiting horse and buggy.
On the way back home, Florence tried not to look at Carter’s house when she passed.
Just a quick glance.
His car was still there, parked outside. Most likely, he was at home waiting for her visit, but she wouldn’t go—couldn’t go.
Even if she did, what could she do or what could she say?
The very act of appearing at his house would mean that she acknowledged that the kiss had meant something. And then what would happen? Things couldn’t stay the same. There was nowhere for a relationship with him to go. No good direction, anyway. Only one where she’d be tempted to turn her back on the community and Gott’s ways; she’d never allow that to happen.
From the things Carter had said, she knew he was an atheist, not a believer at all.
He had said his motto was never say never, but she couldn’t let her future hinge on idle words from the mouth of an Englischer.
Deep inside, she felt the battle raging. Good against evil, the spirit against the flesh.
She desperately ached to see him again, but knew it would be the wrong decision to make. The best thing she could do was keep away.
It gave her a sense of comfort knowing he wouldn’t come to her property and knock on her door. So long as she restrained herself, he would eventually forget about her.
It wasn’t the same for her. She would never forget him and the special kiss that they’d shared. Perhaps she should’ve regretted it, but she didn’t. It could possibly turn out to be the only real kiss she’d ever get.
Did Aunt Dagmar, Dat’s never-married older schweschder, ever have one kiss? Florence smiled as she decided Dagmar had never gotten one. She seemed like the last woman who’d be tempted by a man. She was the perfect person for Cherish to stay with to learn some life lessons.
Cherish was Florence’s youngest half-sister who had tried to run away, and then she’d been caught flirting with her older sister’s husband-to-be. On Aunt Dagmar’s isolated farm, there were no such temptations, only activities such as basket weaving and quilting to occupy her time once her assigned farming chores were finished.
When Florence pulled up the buggy at her house, Favor came running out toward her, followed closely by Hope. Her first thought was that there was some emergency or something had happened to Mamm. She jumped out of the buggy. “What is it?”
When she saw the girls grinning she relaxed, knowing everything was okay.
“You’ve got flowers,” Favor blurted out.
“Big red roses,” Hope added.
“Store-bought ones with long stems. They came in a big white box.”
“With a big red bow.”
Florence found their words hard to take in. “Wait! You said I’ve got flowers?”
“Jah, the note said Florence.”
“They were delivered ten minutes ago. You just missed the delivery van.”
She put her hand over her heart. Carter had sent her expensive red roses. This was worse than him knocking on her door. Trying to throw them off the track, she said, “I didn’t think Ezekiel would do that.”
“They’re not from—”
Hope dug Favor in the ribs, and then said, “There’s a note. We’ll help you with the horse and buggy, won’t we, Favor?”
“Jah, we will.”
“Denke, that’s very nice of you. I got us all cappuccinos.”
Favor jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Oh, goodie.”
“Denke, Florence. How did you know I just now felt like one?”
Florence giggled. “It was a good guess.”
As they worked to unhitch the buggy and then rub down the horse, Hope said, “I wonder if the person who bought you the flowers is the same person who left you the twigs Christmas before last.”
Florence held in her laughter. “They weren’t twigs. That was a rare grafted apple tree.” He hadn’t given her anything this just-passed Christmas, but he had expected her to visit.
“Looked like twigs to me,” Hope said. “Where were you just now?”
“Yeah, we would’ve come with you if we knew you were going into town.”
“I told you I was running errands. I also visited Mark at his store.”
“Well you should’ve taken Joy if you were going there. She would’ve wanted to see Isaac.”
“Isn’t he coming to dinner tonight?” Florence asked.
“Most likely,” Favor said. “But she still probably would’ve wanted to go with you and we would’ve gone too.”
“Sorry, but it’s too late now and you girls wouldn’t have finished your chores anyway. Grab your coffees and Mamm's too, and take them into the haus before they get cold. I’ll finish up here.”
Chapter 4
When Florence finally went into the house, the first thing she saw when she opened the door was the huge box of flowers sitting on the table at the opposite end of the room.
She walked forward. Nobody had ever given her flowers and these weren’t ordinary. They were extraordinary—magnificent. Red roses were her favorite. How could he have known? She walked over to them and before she even got close, she breathed in their sweet aroma.
It was a heavenly scent, one like no other and almost good enough to eat. When she leaned forward to have a closer look, she noticed that many of the outer petals were so deep red in color that they were almost black. “These are the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen in my life.” She turned around to face all of her sisters. “Can you smell them?”
“Jah, I smelled them,” said Joy, handing her the take-out coffee. “They’re beautiful.”
Florence took the coffee cup and had a sip while Favor and Hope leaned forward to breathe in the scent of the flowers.
“They’re pretty good,” Favor agreed.
“Do you want me to put them in water for you, Florence?” Joy asked.
“I can do that.” Favor took hold of the box and it was then that Florence spied the small envelope.
She snatched it off and looked at it. The heart-shaped sticker that was used to seal the envelope, had been torn; someone had opened it. Favor and Hope were hurrying into the kitchen and Florence guessed them to be the ones who’d done it. Florence placed her coffee down on the table and opened the envelope, hoping that Carter hadn’t written down his name.
Beautiful flowers for the most beautiful woman in the world.
Your secret admirer.
He was the only one who had ever called her beautiful.
She looked up at the girls who were now walking out of the kitchen and couldn’t help putting her hand over her mouth and giggling. It was one of the happiest moments of her life.
Joy stepped forward. “Who’s it from?”
“I can’t say.”
“Can’t say because you don’t know? Or you can’t say because you don’t want us to know?”
“You’ve opened it, haven’t you?”
Favor and Hope looked at one another. “Are we in trouble?” Hope asked, looking ashamed.
Florence was in too good of a mood to punish them. “Not today. The note says from a secret admirer, and I know that you know that.” She quickly put the note back in the small envelope.
When she walked into the kitchen, she saw Wilma up to her elbows in flour rolling out pastry for pies.
“I overheard it all,” Wilma said smiling. “Secret admirer?”
“That’s right. That’s what the note said.” Florence giggled. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“I’ve never seen roses like that in all my born days.” Wilma gave her a lovely smile. “We don’t have a vase to fit them. We’ve only got two small flower vases.”
; “I’ll find something to fit.” Joy rustled through the cupboard and pulled something out. It was a tall glass canister. “What about this?”
“That’ll be perfect,” said Florence. Then she proceeded to spend the next five minutes snipping a little off each of the stems while holding them under running water, and another five or so minutes arranging her flowers in the impromptu vase. She explained to her half-sisters that snipping the stems in this manner allowed the flowers to 'drink' the water in the vase, and they would last days longer. “I’m going to put them in the living room on the table where I found them.”
“Who are they from?” Mamm asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think they’re from Ezekiel?”
Florence pulled a face at the mention of his name. “Nee, not after the letter he sent me saying things were too difficult because we lived too far apart.” His rejection had been bitter for her to come to terms with, just when she’d been opening her heart to the possibility of liking someone other than Carter.
In the early afternoon, after the chores were done, Florence wondered what to do about the flowers. They must’ve cost him a fortune. The arrival of the flowers told her that Carter knew she wasn’t going to visit him today, the same as every day since that kiss. He didn’t want to be forgotten. She struggled with whether she should see him if only to thank him for the roses, but the problem was, where would that lead?
The late afternoon rain was a welcome sight for Florence. It wasn’t a light sun-shower either. It was heavy enough to keep her inside. Without taking her walk, she wouldn’t have her daily temptation of spying on Carter from a distance.
She sat home with the girls and Mamm as they huddled around the fire and hand-sewed baby clothing. It was something that Mamm had recently introduced.
"With Mercy and Honor now married, it won’t be long before the bopplis start arriving," she’d told them.
It was pleasant with only three of Florence’s half-sisters at home now. Joy was the sensible one, older than her years. Hope and Favor were mischievous but only because they liked to have fun. There was no nastiness in any of them. Cherish was the brattish one whom Florence could barely tolerate; it was nice to have a rest from her spoiled and self-centered attitude.
Amish Joy (The Amish Bonnet Sisters Book 4) Page 2
