by Loree Lough
“Divorced or widowed?”
“My wife died three years ago.” He braced himself for the barrage of questions that would surely follow.
“Sorry to hear it.”
They walked the remaining distance between the eight-foot-tall chain-link gate and the gift shop, the crunch of gravel under their shoes the only sound. He hadn’t noticed a wedding band when he spotted the perky pink polish on her nails, but that didn’t mean a thing these days. Maybe she knew how to bite her tongue. Or maybe she just didn’t give a hoot about the details of his past.
He didn’t like that idea, and it surprised him more than he cared to admit. Why should it concern him one way or the other what she thought of him? He’d only met her moments ago, and while they had the sanctuary and helping their Amish neighbors in common, they—
“So do you live nearby?”
Simon opened the gift-shop door, wincing when it squealed in protest. “Wonder where Matt might have stored a can of oil….”
In place of an answer, Julia’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, proof, he believed, that she thought he’d deliberately sidestepped her question. “I live just outside of Paradise.”
“I admire your dedication. What is that—a thirty-minute drive each way to get here?”
“Some days. Depends on weather, traffic…. What about you?”
“My grandparents left me a house in Paradise.”
The soft, dulcet tones of her voice vanished and the sweet expression on her face hardened like a protective mask. Obviously she regretted having provided the information, telling Simon that “sharing” wasn’t something Julia did often. Again, he fought the urge to wrap her in a comforting embrace. “Big enough for your husband and kids, I take it?”
“No husband. No kids.”
He was on the verge of breathing a sigh of relief when she added, “Thankfully…”
No way he intended to touch that one. All he needed was another “Let’s wait till we’re older and rich and see some of the world before we have kids” woman in his life.
And so much for the invite to join him for a cup of coffee. Yeah, he’d been big-time lonely and, sure, he’d like to remedy that with a gorgeous little gal like Julia. But he was a veterinarian, for the love of Pete, not a shrink, totally ill-equipped to handle the emotional baggage that prompted her angry comments. Maybe he’d run into her again, here at the wolf sanctuary. If so, he’d make every effort to behave in a neighborly, gentlemanly way.
Period.
He crossed both arms over his chest, determined to keep a safe distance from this feisty young gal. As she tidied stacks of wolf greeting cards, silver jewelry, and wooden plaques for sale in the shop, he straightened the paintings hanging on the back wall while outside, birdsongs, cricket chirps, and the distant yelp of wolf cubs filled the quiet space.
No one was more surprised than Simon when he said, “So, uh, well, what would you say to dinner at the Garden Gate Diner?”
Chapter Two
Julia parked beside the buggy and glanced around the Gundens’ front yard. A peek at her watch explained why no one was outside working. Noon—mealtime on most Amish farms. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with thoughts of Simon, she would have waited to visit. Now they’d insist that she join them for dinner. Already Hannah was on the big covered porch, waving her onward.
“I see you have brought the big black briefcase.” One hand on her blue-aproned hip, Hannah adjusted her white bonnet and aimed a pointer finger at Julia. “Business will just have to wait until after we eat.”
“I can come back later,” Julia began, “after—”
The woman clucked her tongue. “Now, now, you have been around here long enough to know better than to decline an invitation to join us.”
But Julia wouldn’t just be expected to sit and chat as they dined. Hannah, in particular, would be hurt if she didn’t pile her plate high with everything on the table. Smiling, she swallowed a sigh and followed Hannah inside. At the diner tonight, when she barely touched anything on her plate, Simon would no doubt think that she was one of those finicky figure-conscious females who was afraid to eat. That’ll make it easier to keep him at a distance. A far distance, she told herself. Why she’d said yes in the first place boggled her mind.
“I will say it but once,” Hannah announced when they entered the kitchen. “The business of deeds and titles will wait until after our meal.”
Julia made note of the loving expression exchanged by husband and wife. “Understood,” William said, rising from his seat at the head of the table. He dabbed a bright white napkin to the corners of his mouth. “So good to see you this day, Julia,” he said, sliding a chair between Seth and Levi. “Please, sit. And Rebekah? From the cupboard fetch another plate, would you please?”
Blushing, the girl hurried to do as her father asked and returned moments later with flatware and a linen napkin for their guest. Hands folded against her chest, she smiled. “May I bring for you some cool water to drink, Miss Julia?”
She met the girl’s bright blue eyes and laid a hand atop her gray-sleeved forearm. “That’d be lovely. Thank you. Thanks to the rest of you, too, for forgiving my bad manners.”
“‘Bad manners’?” Seth, at eight, was just old enough to understand adult conversations. He tucked both thumbs behind his suspenders, a much smaller version of his strapping father. “Really now, what bad thing could a nice lady like yourself have done?”
Julia gave him a short sideways hug. “I let my addled brain take control of my good sense, that’s what,” she said, “and showed up right in the middle of your meal.”
Rebekah returned to her seat, directly across from Julia. “Oh, but it is of no bother.” She looked at her mother. “Is it, Mama?”
Hannah’s face glowed with love as she said, “It is no bother at all.” Facing Julia, she smiled warmly. “But it would be ever so nice if someday you would come calling when business is not your reason.”
Julia felt the heat of a blush color her cheeks. She couldn’t very well tell this delightful family that no such thing would ever happen, nor could she tell them why. She was here now, stuck with having to clean a plate piled high with chicken and potatoes, home-canned vegetables, fluffy biscuits, fresh-churned butter, and apple dumplings or fruit pie for dessert. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. Not the promise Hannah would have liked to hear, but at least it wasn’t a lie.
“Look, Mama,” said five-year-old Levi, “Miss Julia’s face is red as an apple!”
Rebekah and Seth hid grins behind their hands, but Hannah and William made no effort to mask their amusement. Again, Julia witnessed the we-share-a-special-secret look that emphasized the beauty of their love.
“Perhaps the apple-red cheeks are from thoughts of the good doctor,” Hannah said.
Julia didn’t bother to ask which doctor they meant. Her only question was how they’d found out so quickly that she and Simon had met that morning. Did they know about his dinner invitation, too?
“Now, now, Mama,” William put in, “we must not interfere. If Simon and Julia are courting, it is no business of ours.”
Courting? Julia stared at each Gunden in turn, felt her mouth gaping, and snapped it shut. The merry faces all around the table said what words needn’t: They did know about the date planned for this evening! Their farm in Paradise was a good half-hour drive from Elm, home of the wolves of Speedwell Forge. Simon lived on the edge of town, just past the Beachy farm—not a long trip, but not a shout across the valley, either. “All right,” she said, grinning good-naturedly, “out with it. How did you hear this news already when I only said yes a few hours ago?”
William lifted his bearded chin and said, “Not all kraut is sour.”
“And the future,” Hannah added, “is but a book with seven locks.”
“What fills the heart flows over from the mouth.”
“Ya, and ‘Every little bit helps,’ said the mosquito as he spat into the sea.”
&nb
sp; Julia, Seth, Levi, and Rebekah followed the volley, heads turning right and left as William and Hannah laughed long and hard with each adage that filled the air. All four giggled, though Julia didn’t think the kids understood the quick-witted wisdom any better than she did. “Excuse me, please, Mama, Papa,” little Levi interrupted, “but what does it all mean?”
In place of an answer, his mother and father roared all the louder. Wiping their eyes on their napkins, they sat back and sipped water from ceramic mugs. “It means,” Julia said around a smile, “that the good doctor has been here today.”
Levi gasped. “You weren’t here. How could you know?”
She pressed her forehead to his. “Two little birdies told me so. I only wonder,” she said, eyeing Hannah and then William, “why the good doctor thought the news would interest my Gunden friends enough to—”
“William,” Hannah interrupted, “please pass the gravy.”
Nodding, Levi narrowed his eyes. “I see. Yes, I think I’ve figured out the riddle. Doctor Thomas told Mama and Papa that he is smitten with you, and now they think the pair of you are courting!” He sat up very tall, looking quite pleased at having puzzled things out all by himself.
By now, William had regained his full composure. In a quiet voice, he said, “Take care, son, to remember what the bishop taught from Obadiah last week….”
“‘The pride of thine heart hath deceived thee,’” the boy quoted, hanging his head. “I am sorry, Papa.”
“Goodness,” Julia said, “don’t look so glum, Levi. It’s only natural that you’d be pleased to have understood all that…those…the, uh…” She looked toward the ceiling as if she’d find answers written there. Exhaling a sigh, she playfully elbowed the boy’s ribs. “Well, you’re a very smart kid, that’s all, and you earned a little pat on the back.”
Hannah touched fingertips to her lips, eyes wide with shock at what she considered Julia’s blatant disregard of William’s warning. Rebekah mimicked her mother’s gestures as Levi bit his lower lip and Seth winced, making Julia wonder what could have made them all fear William so, when he’d always seemed like such a gentle man. “If I’ve said anything to offend you,” she told him, “I apologize. I’m not as familiar with the Amish ways as I should be, I’m afraid, but I’ll mind my tongue the next time I invite myself to dinner, I promise.”
Nodding, William’s friendly smile warmed the room. “Time now to be busy with your chores, children.” He watched as one by one they happily went off in three directions. The Amish didn’t view hard work as a negative experience—that much was evident in their matter-of-fact expressions. Like their friends and cousins throughout Lancaster County, each readily accepted that they must all do their fair share if the farms were to remain self-sustaining, efficient, and on-budget. Julia envied the Gunden kids a little, for the comfort and safety of family life was obvious everywhere she looked in Amish Country. Quite a contrast to her own childhood, moving from one foster home to another.
Self-pity had never made her feel better about her past, so she stood and began stacking plates and gathering flatware. “The missus, she does not mind the womanly work,” William said. “Come join me in the parlor so we can get this business of the deed out of the way.”
Julia opened her mouth to say that she didn’t mind helping Hannah with the dishes. It was the least she could do, she wanted to tell him, after the gracious way they’d welcomed her to their table. Then she remembered her promise to mind her tongue and clamped her jaw tight instead.
Was that a gleam of approval twinkling in William’s eyes? Surely he hadn’t read her body language and known what had been in her mind….
Without a word, he walked purposefully toward the other side of the house, and Julia followed like an obedient child, stopping to grab her briefcase as she went. In the humbly furnished room, she could choose a straight-backed chair, an unpadded rocker, or one of four long wooden benches that hugged the walls. She chose a bench, thinking it would be easier to spread out the paperwork that William needed to read and sign.
She explained each document carefully and then said, “I need you to sign here”—she pointed—“and here.”
William patted his shirt. “May I for a moment borrow something with which to write?” He chuckled and added, “There is little need for a pen in the milking barn or while plowing the fields.”
Julia gave him a ballpoint, smiling at the musical Amish way of constructing sentences. “Thanks,” she said when he handed it back. “Now then, on Monday, first thing, I’ll deliver the paperwork to the clerk’s office and get the recording process started. If all goes well, you should have the deed in a few weeks.”
Nodding, William said, “This is good.” Then folding both arms over his chest, he added, “You will let us know how things go at dinner tonight, ya?”
He’d so surprised her with the question that Julia nearly closed the briefcase on her fingers. “I–I—”
“Doctor Thomas, he needs a good wife, I think.”
“And children,” came Hannah’s voice from the kitchen. “He wants lots of children. He told me so himself many times. How sad that his wife died before she could fulfill her promise to him.”
“Ya,” her husband agreed. “He has good land, you know, much good land.”
“And a big beautiful house,” Hannah put in, “with room for many children.”
A nervous giggle escaped Julia’s lips. “Whoa, you two,” she said, hands up like a traffic cop. “Simon and I only just met this morning. All this…this talk is very premature, don’t you think?”
“What I think,” William said, “is that there are only so many hours in a day and so many days in a man’s life. God did not make man to live alone, but to share it with a wife, as the Good Lord intended.”
“And you are lonely, too, Julia Spencer! William is right, you know. God intended for His children to share their time on earth with loving spouses and children.”
Julia had lived on the outskirts of one Amish community or another for most of her life and had never heard of a single instance where the Amish had attempted matchmaking between two Englishers. Leave it to you to be the first, she thought. “I’ll keep in touch,” she said, grabbing her briefcase. At the sight of William’s mischievous grin, she added, “On the real estate matter, of course.” She was out the door and on the porch in a matter of seconds. “Would you like me to call the Bachmans,” she said, standing beside her car, “and ask them to get a message to you about how things are progressing?”
The couple stood side by side on the top porch step. “No need to put them to any trouble,” William said. “Just because they got for themselves one of those…those telephones doesn’t mean we should make use of it.”
“Ya,” Hannah agreed. “Much better for you to come in person, anyway, so we may see by your pretty face exactly how things are progressing with you and Doctor Thomas.”
Now how did they expect her to respond to that?
William and Hannah waved as Julia drove away. Lord only knows what’s behind their silly smiles, Julia thought. Something to do with whatever Simon had said to William, no doubt. “Thanks so much for the wonderful meal and the delightful conversation!” she said, waving as she drove slowly toward the road.
Thanks to the Gundens’ mealtime generosity, it wasn’t likely that she’d eat much at dinner with Simon tonight—which meant she’d have plenty of time to find out what information he’d shared with his good Amish friend.
Nearly a dozen items filled her mental to-do list, and having always been the work-before-pleasure type, it surprised Julia that William’s documents and other work-related duties came to her mind after “What to wear” and “Polish fingernails.”
Chapter Three
“Sorry I’m so early,” Simon said, extending the bouquet he’d bought on his way to Julia’s house. “Wasn’t sure where you lived and didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot by getting here late.”
Julia accepted the
flowers with a smile that put the pretty blooms to shame. “They’re lovely,” she said, sticking her nose into the center flower. “How’d you know that daisies are my favorite?”
She stepped aside and, with a graceful sweep of her arm, invited him into the foyer. Simon stood for a second, wondering what to make of the teasing glint in her eyes. In the next instant, he had his answer.
“Did William tell you that, too?”
This morning at the wolf sanctuary, she’d told him about the appointment at the Gunden farm, and when he’d stopped by to inoculate the new calves, he’d asked William how long the Gundens had known her, if she’d ever been married, and if she was “involved” with anyone. He pictured the knowing twinkle in William’s eyes at every answer.
She had him dead to rights. Simon saw no point in denying it. But he saw no point in acknowledging it, either. “Sounds like you had a productive visit to the Gunden farm, too.”
One delicate brow lifted as she studied his face. He thought for a minute that she might call him to task for sidestepping her question. Instead she whirled around and headed down the hall, crooking a forefinger over her shoulder. “I’d better put these into water so they won’t wilt. Care for a glass of lemonade, since we have time to kill?”
Just an ordinary inquiry? Or carefully disguised sarcasm? Simon didn’t know her well enough to tell. Yet. “Sounds good,” he said. He couldn’t help but notice, as he dogged her heels like an obedient pup, the crisp scent of pine cleaner, the warm glow of dust-free tables, the sheen of hardwood floors. Georgia had been a wonderful wife, but even she freely admitted that “tidy” wasn’t a word most people would use to describe her. Surrounded by so much attention to detail, he wondered how much more he’d miss her if she’d been a good cook and—
“So how long did it take you,” she asked, stretching to reach the vase on a top cabinet shelf, “to get from your place to mine?”
