by Marta Perry
She stiffened, feeling the urge to say that wasn’t his business. “You needn’t be concerned about us. We’re doing fine.”
A faint look of irritation crossed his face. “You’ve got your family, of course, but they’re busy with their own farms. So it seemed to me you might be glad of someone to buy out your share.”
The comment startled her, coming out of the blue. It had always been a possibility, but she had settled in so well at the store that she hadn’t thought of it at all.
“I don’t think...”
He didn’t let her finish. “I’d be prepared to make you a generous offer for your share of the business, cash in hand. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about business at all.”
The sum he named sounded like a great deal. Still, she had no idea what the store was actually worth.
She collected her thoughts. “That’s generous of you, Elijah. But I don’t think...”
Elijah seemed determined not to let her finish. “You’ll want to talk it over with your daad, that’s for sure. An inexperienced young woman like yourself wouldn’t know what’s fair.”
Beth’s impulse was to turn him down immediately, but maybe she ought to consider it. She’d been determined from the beginning that whatever she did had to be what was best for her son.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t make any sudden decision. If I should want to talk about it, I’ll be in touch.”
Elijah’s heavy eyebrows came down in a frown. “If you want. It’s a fair offer. Anyone will tell you that. And if you don’t decide soon...well, I might not be interested. I’m looking to invest in another business, and I’m considering a couple of things besides the store.” He leaned toward her. “I’ll be glad to talk to your father anytime. An inexperienced young woman like you ought to leave the business to the men.”
That was the second time he’d called her inexperienced and young, and she discovered it annoyed her. James had never said it in so many words, but she realized now that had been his attitude each time she’d suggested helping with the store.
In fact, he’d kept her in ignorance of the store’s running, so that she hadn’t been prepared when she had to take over his share. If not for Daniel’s help...
She stopped that train of thought. She should consider Schmidt’s offer carefully. But she wouldn’t let anyone pressure her into a decision.
“I’ll have to take that chance,” she said, putting as much firmness as she could into her voice. “If I want to talk to you about it, I’ll let you know.”
It was more or less what she’d already said, and she wondered if he’d accept it this time. Beth could see him debating whether to push his argument or not.
At last he nodded. “Fine. I just hope I won’t have to let you down.”
Deciding there was nothing more to be said, Beth retreated up the steps to the porch, watching him clamber back into the buggy, turn and drive off. Her thoughts lingered on the amount of money he’d offered. It had sounded like a fortune to her, but money wasn’t everything. Benjy’s future was what mattered.
* * *
Daniel locked the front door of the store and stood for a moment, admiring the windows. Beth had been right about how they’d looked. Her design, with the fall colors, fall fruits and fall vegetables, made him smile when he glanced at it. Other folks had commented favorably, as well.
Did Beth know that? He didn’t think he’d ever mentioned it, and he should have. Beth needed the confidence that came with doing her job well. He’d seen the look of doubt that came too often to her eyes. She still wasn’t sure she was pulling her weight in the business, and he had a responsibility to see that she didn’t give it up in discouragement. She had something to offer—the display proved it.
He wasn’t sure why neither he nor James had ever thought about putting up a display—maybe because they’d never found it necessary to advertise. Their customers were mostly Amish who came to them because they carried the things they needed at reasonable prices. At least, he supposed that was why.
Recent years had seen an increase in Englisch customers, especially for baked goods and homemade soups. They seemed to have the feeling that those kinds of Amish goods were better. More natural, one of their customers had told him. Funny, when he thought about how the Amish teens were crazy for frozen pizza.
He stepped off the porch, feeling a little restless. Cooped up in the store all day—that was what he’d been. He ought to take a good tramp through the woods, or better yet, find out if Daad or Seth needed any help.
“Daniel!”
Before Daniel could move, a small figure came rushing toward him and grabbed him by the legs. He bent, surprised by Benjy’s enthusiastic greeting, and patted his back.
“Benjy. What are you doing out here by yourself?”
Benjy was convulsed in giggles at his question. “I’m not by myself. Grossmammi is with me.”
Daniel smiled at Sarah over his head. “So I see. What have you two been doing?”
“Having a busy afternoon,” Sarah said, her gaze on her grandson a little perplexed.
Was she looking at Benjy and seeing his father at that age? He certainly resembled James, although the closer they became, the more he saw of Beth in her son.
“Grossmammi had apple dumplings,” Benjy volunteered. “But it’s time to go home now.” He tugged at Daniel’s hand.
Benjy sounded a little too eager for his afternoon to be at an end, and Daniel glanced at Sarah, hoping she hadn’t noticed. But Sarah just looked tired, as if an active four-year-old had worn her out.
He made a sudden decision. “I have to speak to Beth about some more apples for the store. How about if I save you the walk and take Benjy the rest of the way home?”
Sarah looked relieved. “Denke.” She held out her arms to Benjy. “Give me a hug now, Benjy. I’ll see you soon, yah?”
Nodding, Benjy hugged her quickly before grabbing Daniel’s hand again. “Denke, Grossmammi. Thank you for having me.” He ran the words together, his thoughts obviously jumping ahead.
Sarah nodded, turning to walk back the way she’d come, and Benjy gave a few more hops.
“I have the wiggles,” he announced. “I had to sit too much at Grossmammi’s house.”
“I guess you’d better run, then.” He released Benjy’s hand. “Go ahead. I’ll be right behind.”
He watched Benjy race down the lane, shaking his head a little. He’d hate to see Benjy favoring one grandparent over another, but it was only natural at his age to prefer all the things he could do on the farm. Still, Beth had a firm hand where her son’s behavior was concerned.
After racing in circles a few times like a hunting dog just off the leash, Benjy trotted back to him and together they covered the rest of the distance to the house.
Benjy galloped up the steps to the porch and on into the house, letting the door bang so that it popped open again. Following him, Daniel closed the door, making sure it latched before going after him into the kitchen, where he could hear Beth’s voice.
“But where is your grossmammi?” she was asking.
“I ran into them outside the store. I told Sarah I’d bring him the rest of the way.” He probably shouldn’t have come right into the house without asking. Things that had been normal when James was alive needed thought now.
But Beth seemed to take his presence for granted. “Poor Sarah. Was she tired out?”
“I’m afraid so.” He grinned, glancing at Benjy. “Little folks are a bit much when you’re not used to them.”
“Were you polite, Benjamin?” She fixed him with a firm stare.
“I was,” Benjy protested. “I told you I’d be gut, but there’s nothing to do at Grossmammi’s house.”
“Well, I have something for you to do. Take out the bucket of chicken food from the mudroom. I’ll have your supper ready when you get back.
”
Benjy rushed out, leaving Daniel alone with Beth and too aware of the fact to be comfortable.
“I’d better go so you can get your meal on.” He was heading out even as he spoke.
Her light footsteps sounded as she came after him. “There was something—”
Beth grasped his arm to stop him, and as quickly as that, she seemed to forget what was in her mind. Daniel understood, because the same thing had struck him in that moment. He turned slowly, impelled by the pressure of her hand against his arm.
He’d felt it before—this compelling attraction—and fought it. But this time Beth felt it, too. He could tell by the way her lips parted and her eyes darkened.
With a wrench that seemed to tear at his heart, Daniel pulled away and hurried out.
Chapter Eleven
“Mammi, someone’s coming.” Benjy thundered down from the bathroom, where Beth had sent him after a look at his supposedly washed hands.
Stepping to the window, Beth saw Lydia’s buggy pass the window and pull up at the hitching rail. “It’s Lydia,” she said, but Benjy had already raced past her, and she could hear his voice chattering away, not giving Lydia a chance to speak.
“Enough,” she said, following him to the porch and putting a gentle hand on his cheek. “Let Lydia get a word in.”
Grinning, Lydia gave hugs, first to Benjy and then to Beth. “Remember how excited you were when he started to talk?” she teased, making Beth smile.
“I like to talk,” Benjy said. “Today I went to Grossmammi’s house, and I talked to her.”
“I’ll bet she liked that.” Lydia put an arm around his shoulders and let him lead her into the house. Beth skirted them, hurrying to stir the soup before it could stick.
“Stay for supper?” she asked with a glance at Lydia.
“Sounds gut.” Lydia promptly took another plate and bowl from the cabinet, making herself at home as always. “I was hoping for soup. I had to work the supper shift because a couple of the girls were out sick. At least, they said they were sick, but I heard a rumor there was a dance over in Boonsboro tonight.”
“Englisch girls, I trust,” she said, amused at Lydia’s accounts of her work at the diner.
“Yah, for sure.”
“What’s a dance?” Benjy asked.
Before Lydia could get tangled in explanations, Beth steered him toward his seat. “Climb up there, now. I’m ready to serve. No talking until after the blessing,” she added, seeing him ready to repeat his question. Normally she would take the opportunity to explain the differences between the Leit and the Englisch world, but Benjy was a little young for this one, she decided.
Once the silent blessing had concluded, Benjy was too occupied spooning soup into his mouth to continue the questioning. Lydia raised her eyebrows in a question. “Which Grossmammi?”
“Sarah,” she said. “I was over at my mamm’s helping get ready for Grossmammi’s quilting frolic.”
“Your grossmammi never slows down, does she?” Lydia’s smile was affectionate.
“I have three grossmammis,” Benjy volunteered, obviously remembering their conversation.
Under cover of his chatter, Beth could let her mind stray to those moments with Daniel. Awkward moments, she thought, except that it hadn’t really felt awkward. Instead, it had felt familiar and comfortable.
She’d reached out to Daniel as her childhood friend, but in the instant they’d touched, he had turned into someone else entirely, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
Beth was more than usually grateful for Lydia’s visit. With their chatter and laughter, it had been possible to put Daniel out of her mind, at least for a short while.
After supper, she played a game with Benjy and then read to him from his favorite book. It was a relaxed evening, and gradually the stress over her reaction to Daniel subsided.
Surely it was just a momentary thing—an impulsive reaction born of loneliness and gratitude. There was nothing to worry about.
Once Benjy had gone to bed and they settled at the table, Lydia gave her a measuring look. “What’s wrong? Are you fretting about that note again?”
“Note?” Her mind was blank. “Oh, no, not exactly. In fact, I burned it.”
“That’s gut, ain’t so?” Lydia stirred her cup of tea absently, her gaze on Beth’s face.
“I guess so.” She grimaced. “I haven’t forgotten it. But at least I don’t think about it all the time.” Especially now, when she had something new to worry her.
“I’m glad to hear it. That means you’re looking ahead instead of brooding about the past.”
“Sometimes I think whatever I do, I’ll feel guilty. I don’t want to forget James, but when I remember what he did, I feel like he wasn’t really the person I married at all.”
“I can see that,” Lydia said slowly. “I think so, anyway. I guess I’d feel the same.”
“I hope you never have to.” Since she had married James, she’d wished that Lydia might find someone to share her life with. Now...well, she didn’t know.
Lydia’s smooth forehead wrinkled in thought. “Did you ever think that maybe James didn’t have it in him to love somebody deeply? Maybe he was just...well, all on the surface. You know what I mean,” she said, growing frustrated with her inability to explain. “Some people are just deeper than others. Like your daad. Or Daniel.”
The mention of Daniel jolted her back to the memory she’d been holding at bay. She tried, unsuccessfully, to shove it away again.
Could she tell Lydia? The answer came without thought. No, she couldn’t. She and Lydia had shared so many things, but this...
No, she’d have to deal with this herself. She had to learn how to handle her own rebellious impulses. And if she couldn’t—well, she had the answer right at hand. If she couldn’t handle this, her only choice might be to sell so she could stay away from Daniel.
* * *
The following morning, Daniel was still trying to convince himself that yesterday had never really happened. Discovering he’d just dropped the onions in the bin that held sweet potatoes, he fished them back out and told himself sternly to concentrate on what he was doing.
Two minutes later, he was thinking about Beth again. Should he try to talk with Beth about it? Apologize? But she was the one who’d touched him.
His memory sent him right back to that moment—to the feel of her hand on his arm, to the sense that a current flowed between them each time they touched, to the instant that her green eyes had darkened and he’d known that she felt what he did.
Was he sure? Maybe it had been wishful thinking on his part. If she hadn’t felt anything, trying to talk about it would just be embarrassing for both of them.
And even if what he thought had happened had been real, it might still be best to pretend. If they could each hold on to their composure, their partnership would be able to go on without hindrance.
Daniel’s argument with himself ended abruptly when the bell on the door jingled. Looking down the row of shelves, he saw Benjy and Beth come in, with Benjy chattering away to his mother. Benjy spotted him and came running, so Daniel set the basket of onions aside and went to meet him.
“Whoa, slow down.” He felt obligated to correct him about running in the store, even though it warmed his heart to see Benjy so eager.
“No running in the store,” Beth reminded her son. She managed to focus on Benjy without apparently seeing Daniel, so she may have decided to ignore the incident, too.
“But I have to tell Daniel,” Benjy said, grabbing his hand. “We’re going to have a cider-pressing on Saturday, and everyone is coming. Grossmammi, and grossdaadi, and my onkels and aunts and cousins and everyone. You’ll come, won’t you? Please?”
He looked at Beth, trying to read her reaction in her face. Would she rather he made some excuse?
&nb
sp; “Yah, do come.” She seemed to hold on to normal manner with an effort. “Everyone is coming and bringing something for supper, so we’ll have a fine time. You can all take some cider home with you, like always.”
Her words reminded him of other years, other cider-pressings, when he’d helped with the press while James greeted everyone. He had a moment’s doubt, but probably it was right for Beth to carry on the yearly tradition. She couldn’t cancel everything that was a reminder of James, and the apples would need to be processed.
He nodded. “I’ll come as soon as I can get away and help with the press, if you want.”
“Gut. I thought I’d ask Timothy, too. And Anna.”
“Let’s hurry and tell them,” Benjy said. “I think they’ll be happy.”
He thought a sense of relief crossed Beth’s face as she let her son tug her away. She probably was relieved to end her conversation with him. The less they were together, the easier it would be to let the memory of yesterday fade into nothing.
A few minutes later he heard laughter from the other side of the store, which he guessed was Benjy talking to Timothy about the cider-pressing. He’d go, for sure. Timothy was always up for anything new.
Anna he wasn’t so sure about. He’d noticed Beth’s efforts to make friends with the girl, as well as Anna’s lack of response. Anna could use a friend like Beth—someone young enough to remember those teen years and mature enough to steer Anna in the right direction. But with Anna’s painful shyness, it would take time and patience, he thought.
The bell over the door rang, and Elijah Schmidt came in. A glance told him that no one was at the checkout counter. If Beth was talking with Anna, there was no point in interrupting them. He’d take it if Elijah showed signs of wanting to check out.
Elijah didn’t move toward the register. In fact, he didn’t appear to be shopping at all. He just wandered down the aisles, looking but not picking anything up. Daniel watched him, curious, for a few minutes. Then, giving in to his curiosity, he walked over to him.
