Harvest of Blessings

by Hubbard, Charlotte

  Luke looked out the back window of the milling room. Nora’s van was parked behind her barn—or was it Hiram’s barn again? He didn’t want to believe Nora had given such a snake the time of day, much less her physical affection—but maybe she hadn’t had any say about it. Maybe Hiram had sniffed out her money problems and used them as leverage to get whatever he wanted from her. The excommunicated bishop had a talent for basing his lies on just enough truth to trip up the most rational observer. Luke decided to straighten out this story once and for all. Right now.

  As he strode across the lot between the mill and the big red barn behind Nora’s house, Luke reminded himself not to jump to assumptions—not to force Nora’s hand if she’d been caught between Hiram and a hard place. But he had to know. Even if she didn’t utter a word, the truth would be written all over her fresh, freckled face at the mention of Knepp’s name.

  The door to her shop was propped open, so he walked in.

  A lemony freshness lingered in the air and ceiling fans stirred the late afternoon stillness. A wide wooden stairway now led up to the loft, where a sturdy railing doubled as a rack for hangings. Nora had already hung several of her unique banners, and she was up there fastening the edge of a large quilt, which served as the central focus of the display.

  “Luke!” she called out cheerfully. “I was hoping to see you—to maybe do something tonight. And here you are!”

  Without a word Luke bounded up the stairway, his boots making enough racket to fill the barn. It seemed like the perfect sound effect—like a hammer hitting a nail—considering what he had to say to this woman, who was acting as though nothing had happened between her and Hiram. Nora was wearing that bright red, pink, and orange checked dress he liked, but she’d removed the cape and had shoved the sleeves up her arms—probably because she was hot.

  Hot doesn’t begin to cover it, he thought as he imagined what she wasn’t wearing beneath her calf-length dress. “Yeah, I had some ideas about dinner out tonight, but then I heard some interesting tidbits—” He grabbed Nora by the shoulders. “Hiram tells me you and—”

  “Well, that should tip you off,” she protested, wide-eyed.

  “—he are partners now,” Luke continued in a harsh voice. “I was going to ask about renting your pastureland for more of my grain crops—which would mean a very nice income for you. But maybe the land isn’t yours to rent anymore, eh?”

  Nora scowled, struggling to break free from his grasp. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “And maybe the barn is Hiram’s, too—not to mention certain perks,” Luke blurted. His pulse was pounding so loudly he could hardly hear what he was saying. Nora smelled so fresh, looked so young and vulnerable, that if he found out she’d gotten intimate with Knepp, he didn’t know how he would keep his hands off her.

  “After the way he cornered me at the—do you really believe I’d—”

  “He tells me you don’t wear underwear, Nora. How would he know that?”

  Somehow Nora wrenched herself away from him. Before Luke saw it coming, she slapped his face so hard he staggered backwards.

  “Get out! I don’t have to listen to this!” she cried. “I thought you were different from other guys, but no—you’re a horse’s rear end just like all the rest of them.” She burst into tears. Then she started backing away from him as though he’d scared the daylights out of her. “Get moving—before I call the sheriff,” she added in a quivering voice.

  The throbbing in Luke’s cheek brought him back into focus. He gingerly rubbed his face, amazed at the power Nora’s slap had packed—and aware that she’d knocked some sense into him. But it was too little too late.

  He’d been the world’s biggest fool.

  He’d accused her falsely. He’d made her cry. He’d insulted her. Worst of all, he’d probably lost her. After what he’d just insinuated about her and Hiram, why would Nora ever want anything more to do with him?

  “I—I’m sorry,” Luke rasped.

  “Yes, you are—a sorry excuse for a friend,” she hurled at him as she pointed at the door. “Out! Now.”

  Luke knew better than to protest or plead his case. He went down the staircase a lot slower than he’d gone up it, and when he reached the door, he left without looking back at her. The sound of her sobbing followed him outside.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. Hiram set you up and you fell for it. Kiss her good-bye, idiot.

  Nora wasted no time locking the shop door. Then she plunked down on the bottom step of the stairway and tried to figure out what had just happened. She’d been riding high as her displays fell into place, tagging a few last pieces before she’d figured on calling Luke to go someplace for supper. Mamma and Millie had moved back to the house when Dat came home from the hospital, so she was on her own again.

  But no. Hiram had obviously spun a juicy tale or two, and Luke had gotten caught in his web.

  She held her face in her hands. If she recalled those fast-flying moments of their argument correctly, Luke believed that Hiram had reclaimed the barn and maybe the pastureland. As part of the exchange, the ex-bishop had apparently received some sexual favors and a very intimate knowledge of her dressing habits. Had Nora not been so upset, she would’ve laughed out loud at such outrageous insinuations.

  But Luke had believed them. Luke had lost all sense of perspective, and most likely he’d come here immediately following Hiram’s tale-telling.

  Nora could easily imagine the ex-bishop sitting in his classic Cadillac somewhere nearby, watching Luke storm over here and then watching him slink away. After Rachel had told her how everyone went on alert whenever they spotted Hiram’s distinctive car, Nora sensed she needed to take the same precautions. If the ex-bishop’s live-in lover had left him, he was on the prowl for another one.

  Hiram probably figures that with Luke out of my life, I’d welcome him. He’ll try to entice me with the financial assistance he’s already told Luke about, because he knows I’m . . . vulnerable. Uninsured and underfunded.

  There was a time when Nora would’ve kept this situation under her kapp, too embarrassed to admit the fix she was in—or foolish enough to believe she could outfox Hiram. But today’s incident took her back to another barn that had belonged to another bishop who’d counted on her humiliation keeping her quiet.

  Never again, Nora vowed as she rose from the wooden step. She went into the restroom and splashed cool water on her face, considering what she should do. Then she turned off the fans and the lights and locked the store before hopping into her van. With any luck, she wouldn’t find too many folks in the clinic at this time on a Friday afternoon.

  Nora was surprised to see Andy manning the front desk when she entered the empty waiting room. “Wrapping up another busy week?” she asked in the most chipper voice she could muster.

  “And I get the evening off for gut behavior,” he replied happily. “I’m really pleased with how well your dat’s doing with his new CPAP machine. We strapped the mask over his nose, turned on the air flow, and he fell asleep within minutes. Once he got some rest and oxygen and fluids in the hospital, he was a model patient.”

  “Happy to hear it,” Nora replied. “Mamma and Millie felt a lot better about going home when they saw such an improvement in his mood. Who knows how many years he’d been suffering from sleep apnea, what with Mamma being the sick one for so long?”

  “I’m glad it was such a simple fix. Atlee’s already rigged up an adapter so Gabe can run his machine on a car battery.” Andy smiled kindly at her. “We’ll hope that this improvement in your father’s health will result in improved relations with his family, as well.”

  “Denki for saying that,” Nora whispered. “Our prayers will be answered, I believe.” She took a deep breath, willing herself not to backslide into the emotional turmoil she’d driven away from a few moments ago. “Where might I catch Rebecca? Has she gone back to her apartment already?”

  “Nope, she’s upstairs in her office.” Andy swivel
ed in his chair and tapped a button on the desk console. “Rebecca, can Nora come up for a visit?” he said into a speaker.

  “Sure!” came her immediate answer. “I’m working on her website as we speak.”

  There was an elevator in the waiting room, but Nora chose the stairs. She composed her thoughts, prayed a little, and by the time she stepped into the upstairs hallway, she felt confident enough to discuss her situation without getting overly emotional. She saw no need to mention Luke’s name or to take the chance that their spat would become the topic of conversation at the Sweet Seasons.

  “Nora! What do you think?” Rebecca said as she gestured to the large screen of her computer monitor. “Look everything over to be sure I’ve got the details right. Your visit has saved me calling you about this.”

  Nora’s mood improved immediately as she gazed at the home page header, where her quilted black cows welcomed visitors to the Simple Gifts website. She clicked on the various links, skimming the text on each page. “This looks so cool,” she murmured gratefully. “ The photos of the quilts and Matthias’s horse collars really give a feel for the whole store.”

  “Anytime you want to update those with shots of new merchandise, it won’t take me but a few snaps of a camera and a few clicks of the mouse,” Rebecca said. “Is your grand opening information correct?”

  Nora returned to the home page and then nodded. “I really like the way you used Ben’s design from my outdoor sign to coordinate everything. I think he’s going to mount it on the barn soon.”

  “This is so exciting,” Rebecca said, gleefully patting Nora’s wrist. “If you’d like my help that Saturday, I can probably be there in the afternoon. I bet you’ll have a lot of business that day.”

  Nora kept gazing at her lovely website, gathering strength for the favor she wanted to ask. “What I could really use is some advice,” she murmured. “I just heard some startling insinuations that make me think Hiram wants to worm his way into my business. He, um, has guessed that I’m a little short on cash flow—”

  “And he’s a genius at manipulating such situations to his own advantage.” Rebecca’s tone suggested that the mention of Knepp’s name had put a bad taste in her mouth. “You’ve probably heard how he tried to take over Mamma’s café, and how my English dad prevented that from happening by becoming her landlord.”

  “It’ll probably take something that radical to keep Hiram out of my hair, too,” Nora said with a sigh. “But I hate to ask a total stranger to—”

  “No, no, don’t look at it that way,” Rebecca insisted as she grabbed Nora’s hand. “I’ve told Dad about the store you’re opening. He’s predicted you’ll draw so much more tourist traffic to Willow Ridge that Miriam might need to consider enlarging the Sweet Seasons.”

  Nora’s eyes widened. “Well, I like the sound of that, but I still hesitate to—”

  “Dad loves this little town,” Rebecca interrupted earnestly. “He partners with Derek Shotwell, the banker in New Haven. I think both of them would have an interest in keeping Simple Gifts financially secure. A lot of families here bank with Derek, so both men are dedicated to seeing that Willow Ridge doesn’t go down the primrose path the way Higher Ground and Hiram’s other undertakings have. Just a second.”

  Rebecca grabbed her phone and hit a speed dial button. “Dad, hi!” she said. “What’s up for supper tonight? Nora Landwehr—the gal who’s opening the consignment shop?—has an interesting business situation you might want to consider. Can you join us?”

  When Rebecca raised her eyebrows, silently asking if Nora was in, Nora nodded quickly. Rebecca winked at her as she chatted with her dad for a few moments more.

  Who knew? Nora mused. In the blink of an eye, she was making a connection she wouldn’t have attempted alone. The New Haven banker’s involvement eased her mind, too—although she doubted Rebecca’s father would be difficult to deal with. Miriam seemed totally independent, as far as the way she handled her business. That’s what Nora wanted, too.

  “Awesome! We’ll see you at the pizza place in New Haven in half an hour . . . love you, too, Dad.” Rebecca clicked her phone off. “Let’s see what he says, Nora. I hope I didn’t just rearrange your Friday night.”

  Nora laughed, letting out the breath she’d been holding. “You’re amazing, Rebecca. How can I ever repay the favor you’ve just done me?”

  “Oh, I’m not promising that my dad will help you,” she said as she cleared her desk. “But he’ll listen to your concerns. He’ll have ideas about how to keep Hiram’s paws off you and your store.”

  Nora nodded, deeply relieved—even though her fight with Luke had merely suggested things Hiram might try. But forewarned was forearmed. She was still upset at Luke for jumping to conclusions about her relationship with the devious ex-bishop, but maybe he’d handed her the key to remaining her own woman. It was a gift she’d thank Luke for—one of these days when the red haze of misunderstanding between them had dissipated.

  That evening as Nora prepared for bed, she felt a new sense of hope. Rebecca’s dad, Bob Oliveri, was a middle-aged fellow with a business sense she truly admired. He was going to talk with Derek Shotwell about setting up business insurance for her store, with provisions for backup funding if ever she needed it. He’d seemed genuinely happy to help her thwart Hiram before the bishop could undermine her financial security.

  “Hiram can spot a tiny hole beside your fence and burrow into your life before you realize it—and before you realize he has no real power to control you,” Bob had said. “The bank’s backing, and my involvement with your store, are as much about your peace of mind as your financial security, Nora.”

  As she slipped between the sheets, Nora gave thanks for the new friend she’d made over a pizza. Bob was right: Hiram had power only because vulnerable women believed he did. Bob had no interest in owning her barn or getting involved in the day-to-day operation of her store. He was simply investing in her success and in the future of Willow Ridge. Nora believed in him. His smile and firm handshake had assured her that he was as gratified by this transaction as she was.

  Here’s another gift You’ve given me, Lord, Nora prayed as she settled into the mattress. Your hand has been leading me all along, and it’s time I said yes to Your call. I’ll speak to the preacher Sunday about being baptized into Your fellowship of believers. Denki for Your patience while I figured all this out.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Nora pulled into her driveway Sunday afternoon, her head buzzed with the discussion she’d had with Preacher Stephen Zimmerman while her heart still sang the hymns from the church service. She entered the kitchen and kicked off her shoes, delighting in the coolness of the linoleum floor as it seeped into her bare feet. She felt ravenous yet too excited to eat.

  There was no backing out. She was to be baptized next Sunday!

  Nora leaned into the open fridge, grasping a pitcher of lemonade as she searched for something quick to eat—

  Was that a knock at the front door?

  Nora went to answer it and nearly dropped her pitcher. On her front porch stood her father and mother, Millie, and Lizzie and Atlee. “Um—come on in!” she stammered as she unhooked the screen. “I just got home from church. Wasn’t expecting company.”

  Millie stepped inside with a lidded rectangular pan. “This is a visiting Sunday for us—”

  “And we’ve had quite a lot to visit about,” Lizzie chimed in as she carried little Ella in her padded basket.

  “Jah, can’t recall the last time all of us sat around the dinner table together,” Mamma remarked happily. She handed Nora a platter of brownies covered with waxed paper. “We’re hopin’ you’ll join us for supper tonight, Nora, so it’ll truly be all of us together.”

  Nora’s heart stood still. Did she dare believe she’d be welcome at her parents’ table? The brownies smelled sooo good. Her stomach rumbled loudly.

  “We’ve got a big watermelon chillin’ in a dishpan of ice, and Bishop Tom
said he’d bring the ice cream.” Millie sighed with pleasure as she gazed around the front room. “Your place is so pretty, Mamma. Your hangings must be in the shop now, jah?”

  “They are,” Nora replied. Then she held up the pitcher. “Lemonade, anyone?”

  Millie and Lizzie joined Nora in the kitchen to fill the glasses, their faces alight with a surprise. Nora was dying to know what this visit was all about, yet she didn’t want to ask too many questions too soon. Instinct told her to let the conversation play itself out in its own good time. When she caught a whiff of the frosted banana bars Millie was setting out on a serving plate, Nora snatched one and jammed it into her mouth.

  “Sorry,” she murmured as she chewed. “This is my dinner—”

  “Then have one of Mammi’s brownies, too,” Millie insisted as she held one up. “Ya don’t want to be fallin’ over in a faint when ya hear what Dawdi’s come to say.”

  Nora’s eyebrows flew up as she polished off the banana bar. Then she savored the rich cocoa flavor of a brownie that tasted exactly as she remembered from her childhood. Rich and chewy, with walnut chunks. As they passed the glasses of lemonade to everyone and started the goodies around, she took a seat on the couch. Was she getting her hopes up too high? Or were her dearest prayers about to be answered?

  As Nora told Ella how pretty her yellow dress was and chatted for a bit with Lizzie, she felt her father watching her. She didn’t meet his gaze right off, but when a break came in the conversation, Nora looked at him. He sat in the chair nearest her end of the couch, calmly rocking forward and back. His eyes were clear behind his rimless glasses and his beard looked clean and fluffy. He was still awfully thin, but he seemed stronger—mentally alert, and taking his time about speaking to her.

  Finally Nora could stand the suspense no longer. “It’s gut to see you looking so healthy, Dat,” she said. “Much better than when you were riding in Andy Leitner’s wagon with hoses up your nose and hooked to your arm.”