Beneath his foot, the floorboards creaked as he walked into the large room. A long counter stood in the middle of the floor. The walls were covered with wallpaper that featured pink roses against a cream-colored background. A few years back this had been a ladies’ clothing store. Three years ago the shop had closed when the owner had died and the family hadn’t wanted to continue with the business. Until Paul had signed the lease papers, the single-story building had been vacant.
He set the take-out coffee he’d bought at Decker General Store on his way here, down on the windowsill just inside the front door. Putting his hands on his hips, Paul looked around, seeing all the work that still needed to be done. It wasn’t difficult to imagine more of his furniture scattered about the room and the walls full of Lizzie’s artwork hanging above his designs.
Paul took a small notepad and pen out of his vest pocket and began making a list of what still needed to be done. Though he’d been working around it, that ugly wallpaper needed to come down. Next up would be another thorough cleaning, and then seeing if the heavy counter could be moved over to one side of the room. He’d decided after the recent soft opening that the counter would work better if it was located off to the side.
Walking around the massive counter, he looked under the lip of the thickly planked top, checking to see if the structure was sound or if it was secured to the floor. It appeared that it was in good shape and was not attached to the floor. With a little brute strength, he felt sure that he and his bruders would be able to move it to another location. That would open up the space so he’d be able to showcase some of the larger pieces of furniture. He’d also been working on making simple wooden toys out of the scrap lumber from their shop. For some reason those items always grabbed the attention of shoppers. If he could get them in the door to look at those, chances were customers would be interested in seeing his handmade wooden tables, cabinets and chairs.
He continued to walk around, jotting down ideas as he went. He picked up his coffee and took a slow sip of the strongest black brew in the village. He took in the view from the window.
Across the street he saw a Plain woman walking with two children in tow. The stoplight in the center of Main Street turned red. A few cars and a blue pickup truck waited for the light to change. He saw two more Amish women walking into the general store next door. One of them turned and he realized it was Lizzie. He recognized her friend Sadie walking next to her. Paul started to wave to them, then realized they weren’t looking in his direction.
He leaned against the edge of the doorway, thinking about his recent conversation with Lizzie. He knew that, for the moment, they both wanted different things, but in the end they wanted what was best for their families. Lizzie was so intent on doing right by her parents, he hoped she didn’t lose sight of what she stood to gain. Paul still couldn’t fathom the pain the Miller family had suffered over the years. He knew that he, himself, missed David every day. The loss had to be so much more for them. And Lizzie. He’d tried to be there as often as possible in the beginning, but over time they’d both grown older. Now he was entering his midtwenties, and his family was expecting him to settle down, choose a wife and have many children.
Of course he wanted all of those things, too. But he wanted them on his own terms. Well aware that if both vaders put their heads together, they could make a union between Paul and Lizzie happen, Paul still believed he should be the only one deciding his future. Most days Paul grappled with the fact that his father still didn’t approve of his new business venture.
While Paul mulled things over, he waited for Lizzie to come out of the general store.
Fifteen minutes later the two women walked out of Becker’s, and Paul didn’t waste any time going out onto the stoop to beckon them over.
“Paul Burkholder! Look how you’ve transformed Davidson’s Dress Shop! It’s amazing!” Sadie said, bouncing up onto the steps, her excitement contagious.
“Come inside and I’ll show you around.” He tipped his hat to the women as they came to join him.
Lizzie cast a sidelong glance at Sadie, making him feel as if they’d been talking about him behind his back. Deep in his heart, he’d secretly hoped she’d come to town to tell him that she was going to take him up on his offer to sell her artwork in his shop. Paul offered a hand to help Lizzie up the steps. Shaking her head, she tucked a small bag into her apron pocket, freeing her hands. She put one hand on the old iron rail and stumbled on the step.
“Oh!” She let out a gasp as she clutched the rail to keep herself from falling.
Paul quickly caught her by the elbow. “Lizzie.” He kept his voice low. “I’ve got you.”
He looked at her pretty blue eyes and saw something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Trepidation? Wariness? Maybe a touch of excitement? He hoped she was bringing him good news.
Shaking off his touch, she said, “I’m fine. Now show us what you’ve got going on in here.”
Stepping aside, he gave a slight bow and allowed both women to enter the shop ahead of him. Pride welled up inside him. This was the first time he’d shown this store to the people who mattered the most. He wondered if Lizzie and Sadie would think his idea as farfetched as his vader did. He found what he wanted more than Lizzie’s consent to place her art on his walls was her agreement that he’d made the right choice.
“Welcome to the Burkholder Amish Furniture Store.”
Lizzie tilted her head to look up at him. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then didn’t. Her face softened as she spun about, taking in the store and all the furniture that was within. When she turned back to him, she tucked her lower lip between her teeth, pondering. He thought he saw just a tiny bit of approval reflected in her eyes.
“It’s like I’ve been telling you—I’ve had this idea about bringing my furniture closer to the public for a very long time. And if the soft opening I had last week is any indication—” he paused to wipe his brow “—I think my shop is going to be quite successful.”
Lizzie finally spoke, asking, “Your vader, he’s finally come around to your way of thinking?”
“Not exactly.” Paul walked over to the counter area.
Coming to stand next to the counter, she commented, “You’re risking a lot going against him.”
“Ja, but this feels right to me. It’s like Gott has led me to this.” He saw the realization dawning on her face and knew then that Lizzie understood why he was doing this.
He needed to find his own way. Apart from his family. He was also doing this for his family, even if his father didn’t quite see it that way. Like Lizzie made sure to take care of her parents, Paul was doing his best to take care of his, while at the same time finding a way to secure his own future. He’d prayed long and hard about it, looking to Gott for guidance, finally knowing this would be the right choice.
Pointing to the counter, he said, “I’m thinking this needs to be moved out of the way. The people who came in the other day had to walk around it in order to see the other stuff. I’d like to display some of the larger pieces in the middle of the room, with the chairs closer to the front. And I think putting baskets filled with wooden toys for kinder in the window might bring the customers in.”
“I think you should put one of your chairs in the window. You make lovely chairs, Paul,” he heard Lizzie say.
He gave her a quick smile. Her compliment meant a lot to him.
“Danke.”
Sadie rubbed her hand along the smooth top of the counter. “Do you worry about your furniture being counterfeited? I’ve heard of this becoming more and more of a problem.”
Well aware of this practice among Englischers to claim they were selling Amish furniture, he’d already found a way for someone to tell that they were getting an original Paul Burkholder piece. Paul had created a very small brand with the initials PB that he burned into the bottom of each piece of furniture
he made. But he knew that little could be done to stop the counterfeiting. He wanted to focus on selling his pieces to customers who would appreciate owning a sturdy chair that would last for years. Right now he had no plans to sell his things anywhere but his own store.
“Nee. I have a mark that I put on all of my pieces.”
Sadie nodded. “That’s a very smart idea. Don’t you agree, Lizzie?” Sadie cast her friend a look that Paul couldn’t read. Something was amiss between the two of them.
Lizzie frowned.
Sadie gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head, her gaze swinging from Lizzie to him. Even though he had three sisters, Paul would be the last one to say he understood women.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. It appeared the two of them were at some sort of a silent impasse. He worried that maybe Lizzie had come here to decline his offer.
“I think the rent for the place is affordable,” he said to break the silence.
“Ja. That’s gut. You don’t want to get in over your head in the beginning. How much furniture do you have ready?”
She was obviously stalling. He could wait her out.
Paul answered her question. “I have a lot of the kinder’s toys, chairs—which seem to be quite popular—cabinets, some smaller end tables and three dining room sets.” He nodded to the spot where he’d placed them in the middle of the store. “I put those on display and have already taken some orders.”
“I like that idea.” She looked around again, adding, “But this wallpaper has to go.”
He chuckled. “What, you don’t think the roses will look good next to my chairs?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Blooming on a bush, they would look lovely. On the walls of a furniture store, they are too frilly. You could take it down and then paint the walls a nice pale yellow. That would brighten the area. Maybe you could add some wicker baskets to the window display. The toys would look attractive stacked inside those.”
“I’d like to add a big oval braided rug to the center of the room. One of the dining sets would go there. I can hang a few chairs up on the walls. Or I can save that space for your...” He stopped talking, realizing that he had no idea if Sadie knew about her friend’s talent.
“You need to keep room for Lizzie’s paintings,” Sadie called out from the other side of the counter.
“I told her,” Lizzie let him know.
Sadie gave them a mischievous smile. “I made her tell me.” Strolling toward them, she added, “And if you want her to sell her paintings here, then my guess is she’s very good at her art.”
Paul blew out a relieved breath.
“I’m still not sure, Sadie.”
“Ja. You are. What did we talk about on our walk all the way here, Lizzie?”
“You told me that what I do is no different than the Yoders’ quilt making. That while their tapestry is cloth, mine is my watercolor on canvas.”
“That’s the truth. They make a decent amount of money selling their quilts to the Englisch tourists,” Sadie said, coming up alongside her friend. “I could tell from the look on your face when you were discussing it with me just how happy your painting makes you. I haven’t seen you so excited in a long time. Come on, Lizzie. Take Paul up on the offer.”
She bowed her head, fingering the pocket on the front of her apron. Her voice quiet as she said, “There’s still so much to work out.”
He rested an elbow on the countertop, reminding himself that no matter how much he wanted this, he needed to tread carefully where Lizzie was concerned. He didn’t want to scare her away, not when she was so close to finding a solution for her family. Not when she was so close to finding her own way.
“No, there’s not,” he commented. “You and I and, I’m assuming, Sadie—” he nodded in her direction “—are all in agreement that your work won’t carry your name. No one outside of these walls will ever know who the artist is. I promise.”
He cocked one eyebrow, looking directly at Lizzie. “So, are we in agreement?”
* * *
All of the time she’d spent in prayer, plus seeing Paul and Sadie standing there with hopeful expressions on their faces, made Lizzie finally realize that perhaps this was Gott’s answer. If they thought she had such talent, surely others might, too.
She looked at Paul, standing here in his shop, the Burkholder Amish Furniture Store. A feeling of pride welled up inside of her. To her, he was the bravest man she knew and not just because of this. Because he never backed down and he never turned away from her. Not once. She wanted so much for some of his bravery to rub off on her.
The thought brought a smile to her face. And before she knew it, she was agreeing to their partnership.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
Sadie grabbed for Lizzie, hauling her into her arms and squeezing her so hard, some of the breath swooshed from her lungs.
“Sadie! Let me go.” Laughter bubbled up from inside of her, as Sadie’s excitement was contagious.
Sadie finally released her hold. Stepping back to look at Lizzie, she said, “I’m so happy for you. This is going to be gut for you and your mamm and vader. Just you wait and see.”
“Let’s hope you’re right. I’m still worried what will happen if my vader finds out.”
“He won’t,” Sadie assured her.
Lizzie was simply going to have to go on faith. After all, Sadie and Paul could be trusted. Since she planned on doing her artwork in private, she wouldn’t be forced to deal with any of the customers. She could continue to keep to herself, and that suited her fine. Turning around in a circle, she looked at all of the space, paying particular attention to the walls. It was difficult for her to imagine the paintings she’d done hanging there. Blinking, she found herself looking right at Paul. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he met her gaze.
Extending one hand, he offered, “Shall we shake on our deal?”
Chapter Eight
She nervously gave him a nod, then placed her hand inside of his. His large hand swallowed hers. She felt the rough callouses of his hard work etched along the pads of his fingers. Paul gently gripped her hand. In his hand she could feel his strength. When she looked into his dark eyes, Lizzie saw his deep and abiding affection for her. Lizzie knew he wanted more than just friendship, but she just couldn’t give him what she didn’t feel. Not right now. After a moment she pulled her hand out of his grasp. Putting her hand in the pocket of her apron, she found herself wanting to hold on to his warmth for as long as she could. But that was not proper for an unmarried Amish woman.
Sadie cleared her throat, reminding them both they were not alone in the room.
Paul rubbed his hand down his neck.
Lizzie fumbled with the bag in her pocket.
Sadie reminded her, “We should be getting back. We don’t want to worry your parents.”
Paul’s gaze finally slid away from her. He picked up his notepad and pen, and then he walked them to the door. “I’m going back your way—why don’t you let me give you a ride?”
“That would be nice,” Sadie responded.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Lizzie added, “Ja. I need to get back to the house if I’m to get the cream puffs made up in time for supper.”
“You’re making cream puffs?”
She nodded.
“I don’t think our neighbors realize how lucky they are to be helping out at your father’s farm.”
His compliment brought another smile to her face and a blush to her cheeks. She loved cooking and never saw it as an added chore. Lizzie did her best thinking while mixing and kneading dough of all sorts. And now she could spend some of that time thinking about her next watercolor project.
Closing the shop door behind them, Paul took a key out of his pocket and locked it. He brought the buggy from around the back of the building, and then helped Lizzie and Sadie up to
their seats.
Even though Paul stayed off the main route that ran through Miller’s Crossing, the traffic was heavy today. He kept the wagon partway on the shoulder of the road, giving the cars and trucks as much room as possible. Still, some of the cars whizzed by them, while others slowed to a crawl. A red SUV pulled to a stop in front of them. The passenger window rolled down, and a woman stuck her head out the window. She pointed her cell phone at them and started taking pictures.
Both Sadie and Lizzie dropped their heads to their chins, averting their faces from the lens of the camera. Lizzie covered her face with both hands, wishing she were riding in her parents’ buggy. At least then she’d have the sidewall to hide against. Paul turned his back to the right, doing his best to conceal her with his body. He gave the reins a gentle slap against the horse’s hindquarter, urging the animal along as he ignored the tourist. The wagon jostled over a pothole. Lizzie’s shoulder bumped against Paul’s. She slid away from him so their bodies weren’t touching. Eventually the car pulled away, but she knew it would be only a matter of time before another one came along.
Paul couldn’t protect her forever.
Even though wintertime was not her favorite season, on summer days like this she longed for the quiet solitude that came with the snow-covered ground. The tourists stayed away from their community during the winter, and Lizzie did her best baking during those months. Not only did the house fill with wonderful scents, but the heat from the oven filled the kitchen with much-needed warmth. Now that she’d agreed to show her artwork at Paul’s store, she could also use her time to do more watercolors. Her mind began to swirl with the images she’d like to put on paper. She wanted to continue to work on the one she started while she and Paul were on their picnic.
A Love for Lizzie Page 8
