The Amish Cookie Club (The Amish Cookie Club Book 1)

by Sarah Price

  Despite not agreeing with him, Myrna knew that she needed to respect Ezekiel’s ideology that everything happened according to God’s plan, including illness.

  It was almost seven thirty when she went outside to sweep the walkway. She knew that the children would be up soon, and then her day would be busy, indeed. On Saturdays, she kept her chores to a minimum in order to focus on the children.

  “There you are.”

  Startled, she spun around, surprised by the sudden appearance of Ezekiel behind her.

  Her hand rose to her throat and she clutched it. “You frightened me!”

  “I’m sorry, Myrna. Didn’t mean to.”

  She managed to smile. “I know that. You just caught me off guard.”

  He reached out to her shoulder and plucked something from her dress. He held it up, and she saw it was a small green inchworm. “A new friend?”

  “I suppose so.”

  He took it over to a bush and put it on a branch. Slowly, it inched away.

  When Ezekiel turned back to face her, he hooked his thumbs behind his suspenders. “Wanted to ask you something.”

  She blinked.

  “It’s been—what?—three weeks now.” He rocked back and forth on his heels as if nervous and unsure of himself. “How do you like being here?”

  His choice of words gave her a moment’s pause. She would have expected him to ask how she liked working there. But he had specifically said being there. And then she wondered if he was going to let her go. Despite his apology the previous week, perhaps the incident had festered and now he was going to terminate her employment.

  It struck her that she didn’t like that idea at all.

  “I rather like it,” she confessed, opting to be truthful. “It’s much nicer than working in one of those stores in town, following all of their silly rules or selling bad products to the clients.” She scowled.

  He chuckled, which surprised her.

  Looking up, she noticed an amused expression on his face. Quickly, she tried to regain her professionalism. “I’m terribly sorry about the incident with Henry and the ear candling. I feel that it’s come between us.”

  His eyes narrowed for just a split second.

  “But I’ve tried to focus on my work. Now that the kitchen and pantry are organized, not to mention my weekly cleaning routine, everything runs much more smoothly.”

  He glanced toward the barn as he nodded. “I noticed that.”

  “Are you pleased with my work?” she asked point-blank, figuring that there was no sense beating around the bush. “Or are there things you’d like me to do that I’m not currently doing?”

  Ezekiel coughed into his hand, his eyes wide with wonder. “Ach, Myrna! Nee, you’re doing everything perfect.”

  She caught her breath. Perfect? No one had ever said such a thing to her.

  “Why, it’s such a pleasure to know that the house and kinner are being cared for.” He exhaled and let his shoulders droop. “It’s a relief, actually. Having you here.”

  “A relief?” She could hardly believe that he hadn’t even one complaint or suggestion.

  “Ja, that’s right. A relief.” He swallowed, and his eyes avoided meeting hers. “I cannot thank you enough for your hard work, Myrna. Having you here has made a positive change in all of our lives.”

  She blinked. Another compliment? She wasn’t used to such flattery.

  For a few seconds, they stood there in silence, Ezekiel unable to look at her and Myrna unable to look anywhere else but at him. She wanted to ask questions, to learn more about Katie Ruth’s sister, Linda. All Myrna knew was that Linda didn’t bake for the children, definitely didn’t do laundry, and now, apparently, didn’t do much of anything at all.

  But Myrna had told him that she would not pry.

  Clearing his throat, Ezekiel pointed to a small fenced-in area of the yard. “I was wondering,” he said, “if you might walk out with me.”

  She looked at him, her eyes widening.

  “I mean, to see the plot of land for the garden.”

  When she thought she heard him chuckle, she knew that color had flooded to her cheeks.

  “Kum,” he said in a gentle tone. “This way.”

  Myrna followed him as he led her to the white picket fence, which was in sore need of a fresh coat of paint. Side by side, they walked around the fencing until they came to the gate.

  Ezekiel opened it and then stood aside for Myrna to pass through. Then, he followed her.

  “It’s big enough,” she said as she paced off the width. “At least twenty-five feet, ja?”

  He nodded. “About that.”

  “And what about length? Fifty feet?”

  He held up his hand, pinching his thumb and forefinger together but not touching. “Little more, I think.”

  She began walking across the garden. It was weedy, having been overgrown the previous year. But one day of everyone helping out, she told herself, would solve that problem. And she’d have to teach the boys how to hoe the weeds on a regular basis. But with daily attention, it would bring forth a bountiful harvest.

  “It’s not part of your job,” he said, leaning against the fence as he watched her bend down to touch the soil. “But I thought it might be something the boys could help with. They’re old enough for some responsibilities like this.”

  Myrna couldn’t agree more. “I don’t mind, Eze—” She stopped herself. “Zeke. I like working outside.”

  He looked relieved. “Wunderbarr.”

  “I think I can get Daniel and David started on weeding today. Henry can collect any stones in the soil.” She stood up and let the soil fall from her fingers. “It’s probably going to need a good amount of manure worked into it.”

  She turned to face him and saw him studying her. Feeling conspicuous, she reached up and touched the side of her prayer kapp.

  “Your daed’s not a farmer.”

  She shook her head. “Nee, he owns the hardware store.”

  “Hm.” He gave a single nod. “That’s right. We talked there twice.” His lips twisted into a half smile. “How could I forget?”

  “Why did you ask about Daed?”

  He pointed toward the soil. “You know a lot about prepping the garden. I’m surprised.”

  She laughed. “Just because we don’t live on a farm doesn’t mean we don’t have gardens.”

  But he was insistent. “Nee, it’s more than that. I can see it in how you examined everything.”

  “Well, if people are going to garden, they should do it properly, don’t you think? Why waste your time and energy if you don’t set it up for success? Dry soil won’t have the nutrients. Old weeds will overgrow the plants. And if you pull them out now, before spreading fertilizer, it’s much easier to maintain on a daily basis.” She pointed to the side of her head. “Common sense.”

  She wiped her hands on her black apron and crossed the garden toward the gate.

  “If you point me in the direction of your tools, I’ll have the little ones out here right after breakfast.”

  * * *

  “Can’t we stop?” Daniel whined. “I’m tired.”

  But Myrna was on a mission. Ezekiel had given her more responsibility, and she didn’t take that lightly. And, from the looks of it, the family hadn’t benefited from a home garden in at least a year, perhaps longer.

  “No rest for the weary,” Myrna sang out cheerfully.

  “This garden will feed you all next year!” She smacked the hoe into the ground, chopping up the soil. “Ooh! Henry, look here! More rocks!”

  To his credit, Henry ran over and knelt down, quickly sifting through the dirt for the rocks.

  Myrna leaned over to look at them. “Those are good ones. Nice and round. Go put them in your bucket for later.”

  David threw the trowel he’d been using on the ground and stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  But Myrna wasn’t about to fall for that. “You’ve gone three times already,” she said.
“And we haven’t even been out here an hour. Back to work.”

  Both Daniel and David groaned, but that only made Myrna laugh.

  “This is God’s work,” she said to them. Leaning against the hoe, she rested her chin on the back of her hand. “Don’t you see that? We’re taking care of God’s earth, and in turn, it will help take care of us. Even better, we’re taking care of one another.”

  “But I don’t understand why we have to do it all today?”

  Of course not, she thought. “I suppose you’d prefer to drag it out a few days, maybe even a few weeks, ja?”

  Both boys nodded.

  “That’s a terrible idea,” she said, frowning. “And I’ll tell you why. It’s called ‘procrastinating,’ which means putting things off. It’s akin to being lazy, and you know that laziness is a sin.” She swept her arm around, gesturing toward the plot of land. “Besides, it’s almost the end of April. We’re late to plant some of the crops that like colder weather. You like broccoli, David, right? And Daniel likes radishes. Well we’re going to plant some of those seeds. But we can’t plant them if the ground isn’t prepared.”

  Henry dropped a rock into the bucket. It clanged against the other rocks. “What’re you planting for me?”

  Myrna tapped her chin with her finger. “Good question. Let’s see.” She pretended to think. “Hmm, how about cabbage?”

  “Ew!”

  “Cauliflower?”

  “Double ew!”

  She laughed. “Then how about strawberry plants? We can plant those in May.”

  The three boys cheered at that news.

  “What’s all this about?”

  Myrna turned around and saw Ezekiel standing by the corner of the fence. He wore a smile, one that she hadn’t seen on his face before. It lit up his eyes and plumped his cheeks.

  “I thought you were supposed to be working,” he said in a teasing voice. “But here you are laughing and having fun.”

  “Aw, Daed,” Daniel said, kicking at the dirt. It scattered before him. “Don’t you know that you can work and laugh and have fun at the same time?”

  Ezekiel tugged at his beard, his dark eyes sparkling. “Is that so? Mayhaps you might have to show me how.” He tipped his head in Myrna’s direction. “That is, if you don’t think she’ll mind?”

  The boys cheered again, racing toward their father while Myrna tried to hide her smile. Ezekiel entered the garden and walked over to her. He reached out to take the hoe and, when he did, his hand brushed against her fingers. For the briefest of moments, Myrna met his gaze, and it felt as if the rest of the world evaporated. No one else was nearby, not the baby who was napping under the shade of a tree or the three boys clamoring around Ezekiel. At that particular moment, it was just her and Ezekiel.

  Finally, he took the hoe and backed away, his eyes still set upon hers.

  No, she thought as she stood back and watched the four of them digging up weeds and collecting rocks. Myrna would not mind at all.

  * * *

  Because it was Saturday, Myrna didn’t have to work all afternoon. But by the time two o’clock rolled around, she didn’t really want to leave. Most of the area was weed-free, and Ezekiel promised that he’d spread some manure for the boys to rake into the dirt later that afternoon. By Monday, Myrna would be able to start planting seeds.

  She could hardly wait.

  “Why do you have to go?” Henry cried, clinging to her legs.

  Myrna laughed as she tried to disentangle herself from him. “Because this isn’t my home, Henry. I have my own home with my own family.” She knelt down before him. “Remember? You met my maem yesterday when you woke up from your nap.”

  He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

  “And now, young man, you will go wash your hands.” She stood up, turned him around, and marched him toward the sink.

  She gathered her things and started out the door, Henry quietly crying as he followed her.

  Outside, a playpen had been set up under the shade of a tree, and little Katie sat there, playing with the yarn doll that Myrna had made for her. Daniel and David were following their father, who was already spreading the manure. The two boys raked it into the soil, each one racing the other to keep up with their father.

  She took Henry’s hand and guided him back to the garden. While she’d been inside cleaning up the dinner dishes, Ezekiel had hitched the mules to a large wagon that was filled with manure. Now it sat in the middle of the garden, the back gate of the wagon hanging down so that he could shovel the contents on the soil, scattering the manure so that it wasn’t too thick, but there was instead just enough to add nutrients into the soil.

  Lifting her hand to shield her eyes, she squinted as she watched him work. “I’m leaving now,” she called out. “So, I believe I must turn this one over to you.” She scooted Henry into the garden.

  Ezekiel set down his shovel, leaning it against the side of the wagon and walked over to where she stood. He glanced over his shoulder to make certain the boys were still working, Henry having now joined them.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” he said in a low voice. “I meant what I said earlier.”

  She lowered her lids, her eyes downcast. “Danke, Ezekiel.”

  “And I hope you realize that nothing has come between us,” he said softly. “I understand why you did what you did for Henry. Your intentions were honorable, Myrna.” He waited until she looked up, and then he reached out, pressing his hand on her arm. “And I respect that.”

  His touch sent a wave of electricity throughout her, and she jumped, just a little. Quickly, he dropped his hand and took a step backward.

  “You have a right gut rest of the weekend, Myrna.”

  For a few seconds, she stood there, staring after him as he returned to the boys. She watched as he picked up his shovel and began tossing out manure from the large wagon. The muscles in his shoulders rippled underneath his dirty white work shirt.

  Had his touch actually sent an electrical charge through her body? Was such a thing possible?

  Slowly, she backed away from the gate, her eyes still upon the Riehl men. She’d have to give more thought to what her mother had said, because, as much as Myrna wanted to deny it, she knew that she’d never been around a man who made her feel the way Ezekiel Riehl did.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Ach!” Edna felt as if she might jump out of her skin when Wilma dropped a metal bowl onto the floor, the loud, clanging noise piercing her ears. “Careful, Wilma! You near about gave me a heart attack!”

  “Why on earth did we agree to make cookies for this MayFest after we made all those baby blankets?” Wilma grumbled as she tried to bend over for the bowl. “I can’t get that! My back’ll give out, and then what good will I be?”

  Mary hurried over and knelt down to fetch it. “And this weekend is a worship Sunday,” she said remorsefully. “We have to make twice as many cookies this week!”

  “And at least we get to see each other again!” Edna tried to sound cheerful. With MayFest just a few days away, they’d agreed to meet up again on Wednesday to bake cookies for people who visited their display.

  Peering over the ingredients that Edna had set upon the table, Wilma asked, “What kind are we making today?”

  “Oatmeal cookies and chocolate chip.” She’d decided on those because they hadn’t made oatmeal cookies in a while and the chocolate chip cookies were always a favorite with the children.

  “Hmph. I should’ve known.” Wilma reached down and picked up the yellow bag of chocolate chips. “First clue.”

  “Aren’t you afraid that chocolate chips will melt?” Mary asked.

  “Nee, only if it’s hot, and it’s not likely to be.”

  For sure, Edna had been checking the weather every day, monitoring the newspaper to see what the forecast was. Rain would ruin the event, and then they’d be stuck with forty baby blankets!

  Everything was ready, so the women set to baking, Edn
a and Mary working at the table while Verna and Wilma stationed themselves at the counter. To Edna, there was something special about working alongside her friends, the quiet noises of wooden spoons hitting the sides of bowls the only thing breaking the silence.

  Perhaps because she didn’t have any daughters to cook with, Edna especially appreciated the time she shared with her friends.

  “I can’t believe that MayFest is finally here,” Verna said. “Time sure does fly, doesn’t it, now?”

  “Speaking of time, it’s almost been a month that Myrna’s worked for Ezekiel.” Edna plopped a spoonful of cookie dough onto a baking sheet.

  “Three weeks,” Verna replied. “More or less.”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “Oh, Wilma!”

  Mary and Edna stole a secret glance and smiled at each other.

  “Have things settled back down after the ear candling incident?” Edna asked.

  Verna nodded. “Ja, I believe so. It’s just a strange situation. Why, he must be very conservative in his beliefs, but when I went there last week, he was pleasant as could be.”

  “Just because someone is conservative doesn’t mean they can’t be pleasant, too,” Edna pointed out.

  “Oh, I know that. But you hear about those conservative Amish.” She lowered her voice. “The Swartzentrubers.”

  Edna made a face, and Wilma groaned.

  Edna remained silent, despite having a lot to say. She’d never been a big fan of Swartzentruber Amish. Their ultraconservative lifestyle gave the Amish in general a bad name.

  “Well, he’s not Swartzentruber, I can assure you,” Edna said at last.

  “Oh, I know that. After all, he uses a mechanical milker for his cows and has running water in the haus.”

  Wilma clucked her tongue. “Can you imagine? How can they live with no running water? Or a toilet?” She shook her head, a look of disdain on her face. “I’m surprised they permit motorized washing machines!”

  Edna sighed. “To each his own, I reckon.”

  “Which leads me back to Ezekiel and this medicine situation.” Verna finished dropping oatmeal cookie dough on her two baking sheets and turned around, the spoon still in her hand. “It just doesn’t make sense.”