The Amish Widow's Heart

by Marta Perry

  “Elijah, gut to see you. Can I help you?”

  Elijah gave him what seemed to be an appraising look. “Denke, but I’m not buying today. Wanted a look around, just in case.”

  Daniel stared at him blankly. “In case of what?”

  “Didn’t Beth tell you? I figured she probably told her partner everything.”

  Irritation made Daniel’s voice sharpen. “I don’t know what you mean.” And he certain sure wasn’t going to discuss Beth with him.

  “I stopped by to see her yesterday. Been thinking about it for a time, but I didn’t want to be too soon after her husband’s death.” He leaned against the shelf behind him, knocking over several boxes of corn bread mix. “I made an offer for James’s share of the store. If it goes the way I want, I’ll be your new partner. What do you think of that?”

  Daniel schooled his face to express nothing of what he felt. If he’d made a list of all the people he didn’t want to work with, Elijah would have been on it. Everyone knew he cut every corner that wasn’t illegal in his various businesses.

  He couldn’t just stand here. He had to say something. “I think you’d better wait until Beth gives you an answer before you make any decision.”

  “We’ll see.” Elijah shrugged and then turned and walked off.

  For a few seconds, Daniel stood with his stomach churning. Thinking about it did no good at all. He had to talk to Beth.

  Just about the time he reached the storeroom, Anna hurried out. Avoiding his gaze, she murmured something about taking the checkout and skittered off.

  Beth emerged from the storeroom, her troubled gaze fixed on Anna. “I don’t understand Anna, I’m afraid. I thought she’d like to come to the cider-pressing. She doesn’t get much fun, poor girl. But she looked terrified at the idea.”

  He shook his head, dismissing Anna for the moment, and gestured toward the office. “We need to talk. About Elijah Schmidt.”

  * * *

  By the time the office door closed behind them, Beth had gone from being blindsided by Daniel’s words to being annoyed at his high-handed attitude. She didn’t answer to him. She was his co-owner, not his employee.

  “What’s going on?”

  It was practically a demand, and Beth’s back stiffened. And how on earth could he know about Elijah’s visit already? “What are you talking about?”

  “Elijah Schmidt was here already this morning, looking around like he owned the place.” Daniel’s eyebrows were a dark slash across his face. “He said he’s made you an offer for your share of the business.”

  “Did he say I’d accepted it?” she snapped. “If you’ll calm down a bit, I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

  Daniel seemed to hear her. His chest heaved as he took a couple of deeps breaths. By the time he met her eyes again, his anger had been tempered by embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry.” He bit off the words and then took another breath, clearly fighting his temper. “Please tell me. Are you thinking of selling?”

  Beth put up a hand, not willing to answer that question right now. “Elijah Schmidt stopped by the house yesterday afternoon. He said he wanted to talk business.” She grimaced. “I think he really wanted to talk to my father, since he seemed to feel women can’t possibly understand business. But that was the gist of it. He wants another business, and he’s had his eye on this one. He made me an offer for my share.”

  “How much?” he said sharply, and then shook his head. “Sorry.” He was trying not to antagonize her, she thought. “If you don’t mind telling me, at least I could see if it’s reasonable.”

  Her anger faded at Daniel’s effort. The store meant the world to him. It was only natural that he’d be upset, but she couldn’t let herself be influenced by that. Benjy’s future was at stake with her decision. She named the amount.

  Daniel considered. “It’s not an awful figure, but it’s worth more, in my opinion. Do you really want to sell?”

  That was an impossible question. There were so many different things involved—Benjy’s future, the question of a fair offer, Daniel’s opinion of someone who might be his partner. And most of all, the fact that if she needed to see less of him, this was the only way of doing it.

  “Not exactly.” She picked her words carefully. “It would make things easier, in a way, but that’s not what’s important. I have to consider Benjy first.”

  “Wouldn’t it be best for Benjy to have a successful business to step into?”

  “Maybe. But he’s too young to make that decision right now. I have to do it for him, and it’s hard.”

  Her voice wavered on the last word as she thought of the weight of responsibility on her, and she could see him wince.

  “Are you seriously considering it?” His voice had roughened, whether at the thought of Elijah Schmidt as his partner or at the loss of her and Benjy, she didn’t know. But even if it hurt him, she had to give an honest answer.

  She cleared her throat before she could say anything. She had a longing to speak openly. To say that being around him was too difficult. But that would mean admitting that she was attracted to him, and she couldn’t do that.

  “I have to think about it. And talk to my daad about it, despite not wanting to oblige Elijah. You understand, don’t you?”

  The muscles in Daniel’s neck worked, but he nodded. “Yah. I understand.” He hesitated. “You’d best tell your daad that he can look at the books anytime he wants.”

  “Denke, Daniel.”

  If this went on much longer, she was going to be in tears. Shaking her head, she made her way blindly toward the door. Daniel grasped the handle and opened it for her. She could feel his gaze on her as she went out, but he didn’t speak. She could only be grateful.

  Chapter Twelve

  Daniel had suggested that Beth stay home from the store on Saturday, telling her that she had plenty to do with the cider-pressing that day. He knew that was true, but he also knew they’d been uncomfortable around each other for the last couple of days since he’d found out about the offer from Elijah.

  He realized he was clenching his fists and deliberately relaxed them. He’d also been standing and staring into the meat case. He shook himself with a command to get busy and stop thinking about Beth. He could do the one but not the other.

  The possibility she’d decide to sell out, combined with struggling about his feelings for her—

  Again he stopped what he was doing, this time feeling as if he’d been hit in the stomach. How stupid could he be? The very fact of their attraction could be giving Beth the impetus to sell. Now that he saw it, he couldn’t believe it had taken him this long.

  “Onkel Daniel.” Timothy sounded as if it were not the first time he’d spoken. “Onkel Daniel, are you all right?”

  “Yah, for sure.” His face probably looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “What do you need?”

  Instead of speaking up, Timothy stared down at his feet. “Well, I wondered... You see, I was talking to Janie, and she said she’d be at Beth’s all day helping get ready for the cider-pressing.” He came to a halt, and Daniel had the unique experience of seeing his self-confident nephew turning bright red.

  “And?” he prompted, trying to disguise his amusement.

  “Well, we’re not too busy this afternoon, and I thought Janie... I mean Beth and Janie, might use my help. If I could leave early.”

  Daniel made a point of looking around the store, taking note of the fact that, as usual, Saturday afternoon was a slack time. In the morning they’d been busy, but not now.

  “All right, you can leave now. Just make sure you’re helping, not distracting...someone.”

  Timothy grinned, over his embarrassment. “Denke, Onkel Daniel. I’ll help.” With a light step, he headed for the door.

  Fortunate Timothy, not wondering if it was all right to care for someone.
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br />   As for him...was there any way to relieve Beth’s need to avoid him? Or was he completely wrong about the whole thing? He’d like to ease any fear she felt without offending her, and if he tried to say he didn’t feel that way about her, he’d be lying.

  The afternoon wore on without any answer coming to him. He’d almost rather have more work than he could handle than to have the clock crawling along at a snail’s pace.

  Finally it was near enough closing that he thought he could start getting ready for the closed day tomorrow. There was always a little extra to do in preparing for the Sabbath. That way he could get on his way to Beth’s promptly.

  Daniel walked toward the rear of the store and stopped, arrested by a noise coming from behind the shelves in the far corner. It almost sounded as if someone were crying.

  Anna, he thought. It must be. He stood undecided for a moment, having the usual male reaction to coping with someone’s tears. But if Anna needed help, he had a duty to give it.

  Rounding the end of the shelf unit, he saw that he’d been right. Anna was crumpled into a heap on the step they used to reach the top shelf, trying to muffle her sobs with her apron.

  He squatted down next to her. “I’m so sorry you’re upset. Do you want to go on home? I can get the buggy out and have you there in no time.”

  Anna shook her head vigorously at that, choking on a sob to say she’d rather stay here. Giving a regretful thought toward the cider-pressing, Daniel sat down next to her.

  “Is it your father? If you want me to talk to him...”

  Another head shake, even stronger. “It’s not Daadi. But when he hears what I did...” That trailed off into a wail, and her flow of tears seemed inexhaustible.

  Daniel sucked in a breath, trying to think of the comforting things his mother had said to him when everything was wrong. “Do you... Do you want to tell me about it?” He asked the question, hoping the answer was no. “If so, I promise not to tell anyone.”

  Her sobs lessened. “You promise?”

  “Yah, for sure.” What kind of trouble could a kid like Anna get into? It probably wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought.

  “I thought... I thought I’d die when I knew. I wish I’d died.” Her voice rose, and he feared this was something way beyond his ability to cope with.

  “If you’d rather talk to a woman, I could fetch Beth—”

  “No, no. Not Beth. She can’t know.” She looked at Daniel, her face blotchy and tearstained, her eyes red. “You don’t understand. It was me. I was the one James was coming to the night he died.”

  Daniel rocked back on his heels, nearly toppling over. Not Anna. Not a poor kid who already had more than her share of troubles. Anger soared. If he had James in front of him right now, all the faith in the world wouldn’t keep him from striking out.

  He forced himself to focus on Anna. “I think you’d better tell me all of it.” He said the words as kindly as he could, given all the grief that had resulted from James’s action.

  “It wasn’t...it wasn’t all that bad. I mean, all we did was talk. James was so kind.” Her eyes seemed to glow with the memory. “He just kissed me. Twice. That was all. He made me feel like I...like I was worth something.”

  “Anna, you are worth something. You’re a good, kind, hardworking girl, no matter what anyone says.” And James had taken advantage of that, bolstering up his ego by persuading Anna into an action that would bring her under the discipline of the church.

  “I’m not. I’m wicked.” The tears welled again.

  Daniel had never felt quite as useless in his life. But one thing he did know. “You have to tell Beth. You know that, don’t you?”

  Her sobs grew shrill, probably hysterical, not that he knew what that was like. Praying no one would come into the store, he spoke softly, trying to reason with her.

  It was no use. Somehow, he’d known it wouldn’t be. Anna seemed incapable of facing Beth. He’d promised not to tell, so his hands were tied. How this would ever come right, he couldn’t imagine.

  * * *

  Beth paused on the back porch to check the progress of her cider-pressing. So many people had come early to help that she couldn’t believe how easily it had all come together. Daad had helped her set up the cider press, her oldest brother, Eli, had organized a team for picking the apples, and others in the family took care of washing and cutting the apples.

  By now, the actual pressing had started, with everyone vying to be the one who turned the crank to crush the apples. Benjy and various cousins watched with fascination as the round metal plate was pushed down on the apples. Golden liquid began to flow into the bucket beneath the press.

  Beth felt someone behind her and turned to find her grandmother.

  “That’s Isaac’s press,” she said, and Beth wondered if Grossmammi was looking at the present or the past.

  “Yah, it is. He gave it to me when he sold us the property.”

  Grossmammi looked confused for just a second before making a mental adjustment. “It must be fifty years old. More, most likely. I remember the cider he used to make. Best in the county.”

  Beth nodded. “He always said it was the apples he mixed that made the difference. This year we’re using a mix of Red Delicious for the sweetness and McIntosh for the tartness.”

  “I... I don’t remember what Eli used.” Her faded blue eyes clouded with confusion.

  “I think he especially liked the McIntosh from that one tree. Remember? He always said they were best for cider, didn’t he?”

  Grossmammi’s eyes cleared, and she touched Beth’s cheek lightly. “Ach, I’m getting a bit forgetful. You’re a gut child, putting up with my wandering.”

  “I’d rather listen to you wandering than most folks’ babbling.” She pressed her cheek against Grossmammi’s, a little more withered now than it had been even a year ago. Sometimes it seemed the old got smaller and smaller and lighter and lighter until they were ready to slip right up to Heaven.

  Tears stung her eyes for a moment, and she blinked them away. Since James’s death, she’d found that tears came quicker about most anything.

  Grossmammi’s hand closed over hers. “Just look at it.” Her gaze seemed to sweep the scene, from one group of workers to another, from the golden stubble in the fields to the golden leaves carpeting the ground and the red glow of the oaks on the ridges. “It’s beautiful. And it’s home.”

  “Yah, it is.” Peace flowed through Beth, wiping away for the moment the worries and indecision of her situation. They’d be waiting to spring out at her, she supposed, but she’d cling to the peace of this moment as long as she could.

  Mammi came out of the kitchen and joined them. “What are you two doing?”

  Beth and her grandmother exchanged a smiling glance. Grossmammi always said that Beth’s mother couldn’t see anyone idle without giving them a job to do, to which Mammi would answer that anyone who’d raised five children would do the same.

  “Just remembering,” Beth said. “Do you need some help, Mammi?”

  Her mother shook her head. “Everything’s ready for supper whenever you want to take a break. Just say when. Is everyone here now?”

  Beth didn’t need to look to see that Daniel wasn’t here. Nor was Anna, though she didn’t really expect Anna. She’d been firm in refusing the invitation.

  But Daniel...she’d expected him to be here by now. She was ashamed to admit that she’d been watching for him. He might have been held up at the store, she supposed. And anyway, what difference did it make?

  She looked down the lane for the twentieth time in the past hour. This time she spotted Daniel’s sturdy figure coming toward them at an easy pace.

  Her heart lifted despite her effort to tamp down her feelings. “Here comes Daniel. I think he’s the last. But we’d better keep them working for now. You know how hard it is to get folks movin
g again after a gut meal.”

  When Daniel reached the group, he headed for the press, greeting the men who’d begun to gather around it. That was what she expected, she told herself. There was no need for him to greet her, after all.

  Just then Timothy hauled a protesting Benjy up the steps to her. “I don’t want to,” he was arguing vehemently.

  “Ask your mammi,” Timothy said, unmoved. “If she says it’s all right, then it is. But I know what happens with my little brothers if they drink that much fresh cider.”

  “How much?” Resigned to a bellyache, she detached her young son from Timothy’s grasp.

  Timothy grinned. “Six cups that I saw, but there might have been more.”

  “Will said he could drink ten cups of cider,” Benjy said indignantly. “And I said I could drink more than he could, and he said I couldn’t.”

  Timothy shook his head, used to dealing with his young brothers. “I’d better collect Will before Daadi hears.”

  “Send him into the house for some crackers,” Beth said. “Maybe that will absorb some of the cider. Denke, Timothy. I should have been watching for that.”

  With a firm hand she guided her son into the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell you not to drink more than two cups?”

  “But it was gut...” Benjy said, but he stopped, apparently realizing that his mother wouldn’t be moved.

  In a few minutes Beth had her son and young Will at the table with some crackers in front of them. “There,” she said. “Eat all of those, even if you don’t want it. I told you not to drink more because too much fresh cider will make your tummy hurt.”

  Her mother, who’d come in with them, sliced off a couple of pieces from the loaf on the counter and added them to the boys’ plates. “Bread will help, too. You want to be able to eat some of that fried chicken I brought, don’t you?”

  Both of the boys nodded vigorously and applied themselves to eating. Mammi chuckled and glanced at Beth. “You go on and do what you need to do. I’ll keep track of these two.”

  Hoping Timothy had caught the boys in time, Beth went out, wondering why little boys got twice as many bad ideas when they were together as when they were alone.