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

by Sarah Price

  “Well, seems like we’ve got everything in order,” Verna said. “Great plans come together with great people working together, my maem always used to say.”

  “And God,” Mary added quietly. “I think He had a little bit to do with this, too.”

  “Quite true.” Verna smiled at the reminder. “Seems like He has quite a few great plans that are falling into place these days.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Despite the overcast skies, there were plenty of people who had poured into Shipshewana for MayFest. Ezekiel had had to park the horse and buggy almost half a mile away. Myrna didn’t mind the walk so much, because Ezekiel had carried little Katie for the distance.

  “Myrna!” David grabbed her hand. “Look! There’s ice cream!”

  Feeling his small, warm hand in hers, Myrna couldn’t help but share his excitement. “Well, it’s not particularly warm today, but I sure do like the idea of some vanilla ice cream.”

  Daniel turned his face to look up at his father. “Could we, Daed?”

  Ezekiel nodded. “I don’t see why not.”

  The boys cheered and even Myrna smiled. Their enthusiasm was contagious, that was for sure and certain.

  Together, they walked toward the corner so they could cross the street to the block of buildings where the ice cream store was located.

  They passed several people who smiled at them. Mostly the Englischers. It dawned on Myrna that the passersby must think that they were a happy little Amish family. After all, Ezekiel still wore the mustache-less beard that married men grew. Strangers would have no idea that she was his employee and the little boy holding her hand was not her son.

  As they waited at the traffic light in order to cross the street, several buggies drove by. As usual, Ezekiel lifted his hand in greeting to the drivers, a gesture that was usually returned.

  Except by one driver.

  Myrna saw Ezekiel raise his hand, but unlike the other times, he stopped and quickly dropped it again. His shoulders straightened and the muscles in his jaw tensed.

  She stared at the buggy and only saw an older man with a long, white beard. His small, dark eyes glared at Ezekiel. She’d never seen such an open act of hostility from one Amish man to another.

  “Do you know that man?” she whispered.

  “Hm.”

  She wasn’t certain how to translate that.

  But it was David who gave her the answer she wanted.

  Just as the light was about to change, David looked up and saw the buggy. “Look, Daed! It’s the bishop!”

  Myrna immediately looked at the man once again. The bishop? If that man was the leader of their church district, it also meant that he was Katie Ruth’s father. The children’s grandfather. Myrna watched as David waved, but the old man merely turned his head away and, as the light changed, slapped the leather reins on the horse’s back. The buggy lurched forward and rolled down the road.

  She stared after it, shocked that he hadn’t even acknowledged his grandchildren. While she could understand his anger toward Ezekiel, she could not accept it toward the children. Besides, she thought, feeling her own anger rise, if he was the bishop, he should be practicing what he preached, which certainly included forgiveness.

  As soon as the buggy moved away, Ezekiel seemed to relax a little.

  “Kum,” he said, shifting Katie in his arms and reaching for Henry’s hand. “We can cross now.” Without looking back, he walked across the street, and Myrna followed with only one glance in the direction of the buggy as it disappeared up the road ahead.

  * * *

  “Careful with those ice creams,” Myrna said to the boys as they climbed into the buggy. “Don’t let the sides drip.”

  The three boys sat on the back seat, each one holding an ice cream cone. Myrna handed them extra napkins.

  “I reckon I could just take you home,” Ezekiel said as they got situated in the buggy.

  Myrna leaned over and adjusted Katie’s dress to better cover the baby’s legs. “Oh, that would be nice,” she heard herself say before she quickly added, “but not very practical.”

  “Practical?”

  Nodding, Myrna met his curious gaze. “My bicycle’s at your haus, Ezekiel. How’d I get to work on Monday?”

  “Hm.” He took hold of the reins and urged the horse to back up so that he could turn the buggy toward the road. “I see your point.”

  And yet, as he approached the road, rather than turn south, the direction of his farm, he turned north.

  “What are you doing?” She turned to face him. “Zeke?”

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “But—”

  He held up his hand. “No sense in driving back to my farm only to have you bicycle all the way right back here.”

  She started to ask how she’d get to work on Monday, but once again, Ezekiel interrupted her.

  “I’ll fetch you Monday.”

  Stunned, Myrna fell back into the seat cushion. While she appreciated his kind gesture, she knew that it would be a great inconvenience for him to drive all the way to her parents’ house on Monday morning.

  And yet, the thought of him not just fetching her but wanting to fetch her was touching. She couldn’t deny that his consideration made her feel as if butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. But he was a kindhearted man. She’d learned that much about him in the four weeks she’d worked for him. And she didn’t want to read too much into his gesture. After all, hadn’t he been the one to seek her out at her father’s store before she’d started taking care of his children to tell her that he had no intention of marrying again?

  Still, despite his words over four weeks ago, she couldn’t deny that his actions did not seem to mirror that sentiment.

  “It’s a long drive to come get me,” she said at last. “And not very prudent with the kinner.”

  David jumped forward and leaned against the back of the seat. “I can watch my bruders.”

  Myrna raised an eyebrow. “And what about Katie?”

  He peered over Myrna’s shoulder at his sister. “Well, I can watch her, too. As long as she doesn’t need a diaper change.”

  Hiding her laugh behind her hand, Myrna turned her head and stared out the window.

  “Then it’s settled,” Ezekiel announced. “No more bicycle riding for you, Myrna. It’s too far and too dangerous, especially near town. And danke, David, for offering to help out. I’m sure Myrna appreciates your thoughtfulness.”

  She sensed that he was looking at her as David settled back into his seat next to Daniel and Henry. There was an intense energy in the buggy, and Myrna began to feel light-headed.

  Surely Ezekiel had feelings for her if he intended to pick her up and take her home every day. And Myrna could not deny that she rather enjoyed the idea of spending time alone with him. There was something so soothing about being in his presence. The way he talked, the words he spoke, even that “hm” noise he always made as if deep in thought.

  Suddenly, she remembered what her mother had said a few weeks earlier. Ferhoodled. Her mother had told her that she was ferhoodled.

  Stunned, Myrna stopped looking out the window and turned her face toward him. While keeping one eye on the road, he was still watching her, his dark eyes searching hers.

  She caught her breath and placed her hand on her chest. “Oh.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up, just the hint of a smile.

  With her heart racing, Myrna felt as if the buggy walls were closing around her. She could only see one thing, and that was Ezekiel. She enjoyed his company. She adored his children. Those things she had known. But now, as she sat beside him in the buggy, she had learned something new: she loved him.

  Dropping her hand from her chest, she stared straight ahead, her mind reeling. How could this have happened? Falling in love with Ezekiel Riehl!

  She tried to slow her breathing, to calm down her nerves. But she felt as if every fiber in her being was on fire.

  And the
n she felt something else.

  His hand upon hers.

  She glanced down at where her hand rested upon Katie’s lap. His covered it. For a long moment, she studied his tanned skin against her pale flesh. And then she shut her eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch against her skin. She’d never held a man’s hand, and she liked it, but only because it was Ezekiel.

  Once again, she lifted her gaze to meet his. The hint of a smile was gone, replaced with a somber expression. She could only wonder what he was thinking at that moment.

  Slowly, she withdrew her hand, tucking it around the baby. He, too, returned to holding the reins with both of his hands.

  But the moment had occurred, and it had been enough.

  * * *

  “Your daed told me that Ezekiel brought you home today. Is that so?”

  Myrna froze, her back to her mother. She’d been drying the plates from supper and hadn’t anticipated the question. Not from her mother, and not now, in the kitchen, with her brothers lingering around the table while her father read the Budget in his chair.

  “Oh, I—” She stumbled over her words.

  Samuel gave a little laugh. “What’s this? You stepping out with old man Ezekiel?”

  Immediately, Myrna glared at him. “He’s not an old man!”

  He nudged his brother. “She’s defending him.”

  “Ferhoodled,” Timothy said without looking up. “For sure.”

  Myrna pressed her lips together, angry at their teasing.

  The sound of the newspaper crinkling directed her attention toward her father. “Leave your schwester alone, Samuel and Timothy.”

  “Sorry, Daed.”

  Myrna saw her father wink at her, and she gave him a small smile.

  The last thing she wanted to do was give her family reason to speculate. If anything happened between her and Ezekiel, that was her business and she’d tell them in due time—when and if it was necessary.

  But her mother did not drop the subject. “How’ll you get to work on Monday morning, then?”

  For a moment, no one spoke. The kitchen remained silent but for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Myrna felt her cheeks grow hot and knew that she was thirty shades of red. Her face probably matched her hair by now.

  “Uh, well—” she stammered, her eyes shifting from her mother to her brothers to her father. “Well, Zeke said he’d come fetch me.”

  Samuel’s mouth dropped. “Zeke? Now he’s Zeke?”

  “Told you,” Timothy added. “Ferhoodled.”

  “Oh, hush, you!” She threw a dish towel at Timothy, but it hit Samuel instead.

  “That’s a long way to come fetch you,” Verna said in a slow and deliberate way. “But he’s a grown man and knows his own business, I imagine.”

  This time, Simon put down the paper. “I’m sure it’s not that much of a bother, Verna. It’s only—what?—four or five miles or so?” He smiled at Myrna. “I reckon a farmer likes to get off his property every so often, especially if he’s in good company.”

  She swallowed, wishing that everyone would stop paying attention to her. “Or mayhaps it’s just more efficient. I won’t be so tired when I get there.”

  Samuel chortled. “Efficient.”

  But her mother caught the unspoken truth. “You mean he intends to fetch you every day?” Her mouth opened and she looked at her husband. “And bring you back every afternoon?”

  “Oh, I imagine it won’t be for long,” her father said. When Myrna shot a look at him, he lifted up his paper once again in an attempt to hide the smile that crossed his lips. “Come harvest time, that arrangement won’t be practical, I’m sure.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  On Monday morning, after washing the weekend’s dirty clothes and hanging them on the clothesline to dry, Edna hitched the horse to the buggy so that she could drive to visit with Verna. Elmer and the boys were busy cutting the alfalfa and had no need of the buggy. And Edna knew that she’d never been able to wait until Wednesday to hear what Verna had learned about Myrna and Ezekiel.

  Twenty minutes later, when she pulled into the Bontragers’ driveway, she was hardly surprised to see that a bicycle was already parked there. She’d recognize that battered blue bike anywhere!

  “Well, seems the party got started without me,” she said when she entered Verna’s kitchen. Sitting down at the table opposite Wilma, she raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

  “Early bird catches the worm,” Wilma quipped.

  “What did I miss?”

  “Jealous, are you?”

  “With a lower-case J so it’s not a sin.”

  Wilma laughed.

  “Where’s Mary?”

  Wilma rolled her eyes. “I stopped by her place on the way over here. Apparently, she had to run errands in town.” She paused before adding, “Bethany refused to go for her. Again”

  Edna knew that God had blessed Mary with extra patience or she’d never have survived raising such a shy daughter. “Something needs to be done to get that child out of her shell!”

  “She’s not a child, Edna,” Verna said as she pushed a plate of fresh banana bread toward her. “She’s as old as Myrna.”

  “Age is just a number in Bethany’s case.”

  Wilma reached out and took two pieces of the banana bread. “Wonder what happened to that girl to make her so timid?”

  For a moment, Edna almost wanted to respond, but her answer would not have been kind. Surely everyone knew that Mary overprotected and sheltered her daughter. Mary’s own fears had been transferred to Bethany, doubling in size and scope.

  “Well, I’m not here to talk about Bethany,” Edna said sharply and turned her attention to Verna. “I want to hear about Myrna!” A broad smile covered her face. “What happened when she came home after MayFest?”

  At this pointed question, Verna flushed.

  Wilma nudged her arm. “Well? Tell her the news.”

  “There’s news?” Edna’s eyebrows shot up. “What news?”

  Verna took her time responding. She sat there, primly tracing the outline of a flower on her teacup saucer. “Well, it seems Ezekiel brought Myrna home in the buggy after MayFest,” Verna said in a slow and deliberate voice. “And he picked her up this morning. Apparently, he feels bicycling that far is too dangerous for her.”

  “Oh help!” Edna pressed her hand to her cheek. This was good news indeed. “He seems like such a conscientious man. I’m liking him more and more each day.”

  Verna tried not to smile. “I don’t want to put the buggy before the horse, Edna. But I sense Wilma might be right. I just might have to plant a lot more celery for an autumn wedding.”

  Delighted, Edna clapped her hands together. “Oh, how wunderbarr! A wedding!”

  “I said ‘might,’ Edna.”

  But Edna merely dismissed her with a feigned frown. “Oh, please, Verna. You saw how he was looking at her.” She clucked her tongue. “He’d be a fool not to ask her. Why! Those kinner need a maem, and he surely needs a fraa.”

  “Well that’s romantic!” Wilma rolled her eyes.

  “Oh!” She swatted Wilma’s arm. “You know what I mean!”

  “Finally! One of our girls getting married!” Wilma grinned. “It’s one thing to have sons marry, but I have a feeling that it’ll be quite different when our dochders marry.”

  Edna kept her smile plastered on her face, but her heart dropped at Wilma’s words. She was the only one of the four women who had no daughters. She’d lost several babies due to miscarriage and had one stillborn. That one had been a girl, and her loss had left a hole in her heart ever since.

  Still, she begrudged no one the joy that she sensed in Verna. It was good that her friend was happy. She deserved it.

  * * *

  “Well, Maem, I found out some news about your Riehl fellow.”

  Edna looked up from where she sat by the window, reading the Bible. “Oh help, John! Don’t let it be bad news!”

  Her son laughed and walked
over to her. He sat down in the old recliner that Simon usually occupied after supper. “Nee, it’s not bad.” He scratched the side of his head. “Not good, either.”

  “Hmm. Not good and not bad?” Edna marked her place in the Bible with a crocheted bookmark and set the book aside. “That doesn’t sound like it could be anything but bad news.”

  John smiled. “Daed sent me into town to get new traces for the harness. I ran into Nathanial Miller.”

  Edna furrowed her brow. “Our Nathanial Miller?”

  “Ja, the very same.”

  “The one who married Katie Mae Kauffman last year?”

  John leaned back in the chair and stretched out his legs. “Correct again.”

  “Oh.” What on earth could Nathanial Miller know? He lived as far away from Ezekiel Riehl as they did! Besides, he had always been one to keep to himself, especially since his wife died.

  “We got to talking, about crops and such, and I asked if he happened to know a farmer named Riehl.”

  Edna waited patiently for John to tell his story. He’d always been one to take his time elaborating when he shared details. She loved that about her son. Unlike many other Amish men, John wasn’t one to get right to the point. He enjoyed storytelling.

  “Well, he seemed right surprised that I asked.”

  “Oh?”

  “Seems that Nathanial’s first wife was cousins with Katie Ruth Riehl!”

  Edna gasped. “You don’t say!” Why hadn’t she known this before? Probably because she’d never visited with his wife, Katie Mae Miller. Besides the fact that they lived on the far side of the g’may, Katie Mae was a young woman with her hands full, tending to Nathanial’s children and a new baby of her own. And Simon certainly hadn’t thought to ask any of the men at church. Not only wasn’t he interested, but he’d never want to be tagged as a gossip.

  But John? He was much more easygoing, even if he wasn’t very social. Leave it to John to uncover a connection to Ezekiel Riehl within their church district.

  “So, what did he tell you?”

  John rubbed his chin. “That’s the thing. Not much. He said he met the man a few times, at weddings and such, but since Martha passed away, he didn’t have much opportunity for family gatherings like that.”