by Daisy Fields
“Just in time for the quilting bee!” Melinda said. “Wonderful. I cannot wait!”
The front door opened, and seconds later, Annie, Aaron, and an English girl hurried into the kitchen. “There she is!” Annie said, grinning from ear to ear. “Mamm, Mamm! You have to meet this lovely girl! She wants to learn quilting.”
Bewildered, Hannah glanced from Annie’s glowing face to Aaron’s irritated one to the English girl’s cautious expression. She could feel the curiosity radiating off her friends. “Annie,” she said as calmly as she could, “in this house, we like to introduce our guests, not to mention politely announce them in advance. I know I raised you better than that.”
“I’m really sorry,” the English girl said. “You’re right, Mrs. Stoltzfus.”
Hannah held up a hand. “Annie? Would you care to explain?”
Instead, Aaron spoke. His voice was strained, uncomfortable, and he glanced toward Katie before darting his gaze away. “Actually, Mamm, this is Miss Katherine Pirello, the English lady I told you about, the one who came into Jacob’s shop, remember?”
Hannah cocked her head. “Is that so? In that case, Miss Pirello, be welcome in our house. Surely you will join us in a prayer of thanks for all the abundance with which God has blessed us today?”
“In the form of lemon bars,” Karen added mischievously.
Hannah couldn’t help but wonder how they looked to the English girl, with their long, simple dresses, white kapps, and makeup-free faces. Probably boring. But that just made her hold her head higher. She would never be made to feel shame for having chosen to live the holy Plain path. The Ordnung guaranteed that she would be closest to God by shunning modern contrivances and artifice. If she ever doubted, the anguish outside their community was all the proof she needed. She pointed to an empty chair. “Please, Katherine, sit down and join us.”
Katie gracefully settled into the chair. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Stoltzfus. And please, call me Katie. I believe Aaron has told you I’m interested in learning about your ways?”
“Yes, he did say something along those lines,” Hannah agreed warily, plating a lemon bar and pushing it toward Katie. Where was this going?
“Well,” Annie exclaimed, “guess what?” Her words were overly bright and cheery. Hannah narrowed her eyes at her daughter but waited. “She’s interested in learning about quilting, so we brought her here to you!”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Mamm, believe me when I say this isn’t the way I wanted to introduce you to Katie. I was going to bring her around in my own time, if someone—” He glared at Annie. “If someone had been able to mind her own business. But no, she must include everyone in her drama.”
At those words, Hannah cringed. On either side, Karen and Melinda burned with interest, their eyes wide and their ears open, but fortunately for her, they were truly good friends; they both stood and made apologies for having to leave. Hannah knew she could count on them not to say a word about what had transpired here to anyone. If only everyone were so trustworthy.
She walked them to the door, where they exchanged hugs. Karen and Melinda reassured her that everything would be fine in the end; God tested them in mysterious ways. The important thing was that Hannah remembered to pray for guidance.
Tears filled Hannah’s eyes, and she promised she would do just that. But first, she had a son and a daughter to deal with.
Back in the kitchen, she paused in the doorway. Aaron and Annie were facing off, Aaron insisting Annie had no right to drag Annie and him into her affairs, and it was her own fault for dallying with Jacob, anyway. Hannah’s heart sank. So he’d seen! Had anyone else?
Annie responded that Aaron was too weak to follow his heart, and he should be glad she’d introduced Katie to their mamm, because he never would have done it on his own.
What was wrong with her family? Hannah opened her mouth to put an end to the nonsense, but Katie spoke first. “Stop it, both of you!” She sounded truly anguished, and she didn’t seem to notice she was wringing her fingers. “This isn’t at all what I wanted. I’ve always felt a connection to the Amish community, and now that I’m old enough to explore it, I came here to see it for myself. I thought the Amish understood something about peace and love that other people have forgotten.”
She whirled on Aaron. “Did you know my mother walked out on me when I was ten? And I was actually glad?” Aaron visibly reeled. “Do you know how terrible it is for a child to wish such a thing? But my parents never, ever stopped fighting. They called each other ugly names, they hit each other, and they forgot all about me. I don’t think they ever even wanted me.” She greedily gulped down air. “Do you even know how lucky you are to have what you do—such a firm faith, such strict principles to adhere to, such a loving family? I never had any brothers or sisters! I never had anybody!”
Tears poured down Katie’s face, and she started coughing from the onslaught of words. “But . . . but all you’ve done is show me that you’re no better than anybody!”
Oh, the poor girl! Hannah’s heart ached. She hurried into the kitchen and put her arms around the weeping Katie. “There, there,” she said. “It’s not so bad as all that. And you didn’t say anything I wasn’t about to tell my self-indulgent children. They should know better than this. God has blessed us with everything we could ever need.”
Aaron and Annie stared at the spectacle in wordless horror. “I’m sorry,” Aaron said finally. His voice squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m really sorry. That was ridiculous of us. Of course it doesn’t matter who introduced Katie. What does matter is that she values us and cares to learn about our way of life. Most Englischers would never bother.”
Annie moved to Katie’s side and took her hand. “Please don’t cry, Katie. I’m sorry, too. You were kind to me when you had no reason to be, and I’ll never forget that.”
Hannah stroked Katie’s brown hair, noting how thick and long it was. It would make a wonderful plait to pin up under a white kapp. She didn’t wear makeup, either, and her dress, though modern, was sweet and modest. She separated herself from the girl and gazed down into her tear-streaked face. “So you would like to learn about quilting, would you?”
Katie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes! And how to bake a pie and make strawberry preserves . . .”
Hannah laughed. “One thing at a time, my girl! Let’s start with the quilting. You can watch as I finish the one I aim to enter in Friday’s quilting bee competition. Then we’ll select some fabric for you, and I’ll show you how to thread a needle.”
“Really?” Katie’s eyes sparkled. “That sounds amazing! Oh, thank you so much!”
There was such raw need in the girl’s voice, Hannah knew she’d done the right thing. Her heart agreed. No one should be starved for love and acceptance. Dear God, she prayed, thank You for reminding me that we’re here to help salve the pain of others and giving me an opportunity to do Your will.
And possibly find a match for my Aaron in the process.
“Now, Annie,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron, “why don’t you take Katie upstairs and help get her cleaned up before dinner?”
* * *
Jacob King was in the worst mood of his life. He couldn’t believe Annie Stoltzfus was still toying with him. It was clear they belonged together, and instead of admitting it, she kept running after that insipid Stephen Beiler! Stephen Beiler, who’d never even dared leave the community long enough to go on rumspringa and see what the world outside had to offer!
Jacob had no use for boring, predictable people. He liked Annie precisely because she reminded him of a thunderstorm: bright and dark at once, likely to strike with a deluge or a bolt of lightning, and five minutes later, there would be sunshine. But the next storm always lurked in wait.
He hated how she denied the passion between them, even though it was obvious they generated enough of a spark to start a fire. It burned him from the inside out.
Something about that thought resona
ted in his brain, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Instead, he smashed more of the clay figurines his mother had boxed up for sale in the shop. It felt so satisfying. Each time he reduced another one to smithereens, it was another person who had done him a wrong, another obstacle that had sprung up in his path.
He was pretty certain Stephen Beiler never had obstacles in his life. Placid people content with their lot in life never did, and Stephen was more placid than a cow.
But he would give Annie one more chance to come to terms with her true feelings. He reminded himself that it had to be hard to call off a betrothal in their community. Annie had had a hard life already. The outside world hadn’t been what she had expected, and her dream of stardom hadn’t even blown up in her face; they’d just sadly deflated like a balloon. He could understand what would have driven her to Stephen’s side. He could even respect it.
What he couldn’t do was let that stand, not when he knew Annie deserved someone more like her, someone like him.
He absently glanced outside and realized it was late afternoon. His daed would be back soon. That meant Jacob had to clean up the mess he’d created quickly. He reached for a small broom and dustpan and removed evidence of the destruction. A certain number of figurines broke while in storage, so as long as he didn’t overdo his stress relief, no one would notice.
The shop’s front door opened, and to his surprise, it wasn’t his daed but his mamm and her sister, his Aunt Janet. “There he is!” Aunt Janet cried, smiling. “I’ve been telling everyone just how proud I am of you.”
“Janet’s convinced there’s not a girl in the community good enough for you,” his mamm added wryly. “I know you are my own son and gift from God, but I certainly hope she’s not right, because I would like to see you wedded and with children of your own. You can’t work in the back of the shop forever.”
A rush of guilt mixed with annoyance flooded over Jacob. This again? If only he could tell them about Annie. If only Annie would come forward with her true feelings. Yes, people would judge her for breaking the betrothal, and they would talk, but at the end of the day, she would be free to marry him. The way it was supposed to be. “Aunt Janet, you do love to exaggerate. I’m just a man like any other.”
“Hardly!” said Aunt Janet. “I admit, perhaps I’m a little biased, thanks to the fact that you’re the closest thing to a son I’ll ever have. But I know you deserve the best, and so does your mamm.”
His mamm laughed and ruffled his hair. “I am proud of you, Jacob. You’ve done well for yourself this far. But now it’s time to take the next step.”
“I know, Mamm,” Jacob said tiredly. “I know.” He ran a hand through his hair to fix it, then forced a smile. “Well, I think if it’s all right with you two ladies, I’ll be off for the evening.”
“We’ll see you at home for dinner, then?” his mamm asked.
Jacob nodded. Really, all he wanted was to get into his buggy and go for a drive. Instead, he left the shop and wandered through the fields. Why couldn’t Annie just admit how she felt once and for all? She was hurting two people by her indecision.
Lost in thought and the pretty reds and oranges of the sunset, Jacob found himself outside Stephen Beiler’s house. He would have turned back and gone toward home, where he knew dinner must be waiting, except two figures stood outside. Stephen and Annie.
Jacob forgot to breathe. Rage filled him, rage that was red and orange and yellow like a fire. Rage that licked at him like hungry flames. Rage that needed to devour something before it devoured him. His hands balled into fists, and he stared furiously in their direction. So Annie had made her decision, had she?
Annie gestured to Stephen, and her face broke into a sweet smile. She gestured some more. Stephen, who had looked resigned, smiled, too. It was too sweet for Jacob. He felt like he was choking.
Stephen leaned down and kissed Annie’s cheek. At that, the fire in Jacob flared through his entire body. He turned and ran before he could do something he knew he would regret later.
* * *
“I’m truly sorry,” Annie said for the fifth time, wiping tears off her cheeks. This wasn’t what she wanted. And Stephen, being the amazingly calm and grounded man he was, merely nodded and accepted her apology yet again.
Annie imagined the news spreading through the town faster than even a wildfire, leaping from tongue to ear until everyone was gossiping, whispering behind their hands, laughing when she turned her back, and gleefully calling her a fool for giving up a sturdy, dependable man like Stephen Beiler. And was she? Had she just made the worst mistake of her life?
It was too late to worry about that now. Annie gritted her teeth. She couldn’t understand why Stephen hadn’t exploded yet. True, he was no Jacob with his fiery temper—indeed, he couldn’t be more different—but this seemed wrong. Annie had just told him she needed to put their betrothal on hold. That she needed time. Still he looked preternaturally calm, too happy for that bit of news. Did he not understand?
“You heard me, right?” she asked timidly. “I said I need time? I’m not certain I can marry you?”
Stephen turned to meet her eyes, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was so tender, she thought she might die. “Annie, I prayed hard for guidance before I proposed to you. I prayed hard the night you said yes. I couldn’t believe it was true, that you would join your life to mine. Each time, God told me to have faith and to stay strong, that you would follow your own heart, and it would lead to me. This is only one more bump in that road to our love, and though I am saddened we cannot be together in this moment, I will stay constant and wait for you to return to me.”
He brushed her cheek with the lightest stroke of his callused fingertips. They were rough, yet so impossibly tender. This man saw something wonderful in her. She wished she knew what it was.
For a second, she imagined reaching up and touching his face in return, kissing his cheek. His hands would pull her close, and he would wrap his arms around her. She would lean against him, her head supported by his strong chest, and his heart would beat its song into her ear. He would whisper her name.
But she gasped, realizing she was envisioning Jacob’s hands, Jacob’s chest, Jacob’s voice. Not Stephen’s. Jacob was the one who made her breath catch, her lips tingle with anticipation.
“Annie?”
Annie jerked out of her fantasy and realized where she was. Stephen, her former fiancé, watched her with concern written in the lines of his sun-worn face. “Yes?” she asked breathlessly, trying to conceal the storm of emotions roiling inside her.
“Are you all right? You look ill. Your face is terribly flushed.” Stephen poured her a glass of water from a nearby pitcher and handed it to her. “Drink this.”
Annie took the water and drank gratefully, glad he provided her with an excuse for being out of sorts. That was Stephen, so thoughtful and considerate, always willing to look for the best in everyone. But oddly, that annoyed Annie. She wanted to stomp her foot. Why couldn’t Stephen imagine he might have a rival? Why did he put so much pressure on her to be as good a person as he was, as simple?
Jacob, now Jacob was not like that at all. Jacob acted before he thought, and whatever extreme he was feeling, anyone around him would feel it, too. It wafted off him in waves that washed you along. Annie loved that about him, even when he made her feel uncomfortable.
“I am all right,” she said. A thought struck her. “Stephen?”
“Yes?”
“Could we perhaps refrain from telling anyone about this break we’re taking? You know how people love to talk.”
Stephen nodded gravely. “Of course. Whatever you need, Annie. I told you, God will lead you back to me in the end, and for now, I see the sense in not giving people something to gossip about.”
Annie heaved a huge sigh of relief. When she decided she was ready to officially call off the engagement and be with Jacob, she would be the one to announce it, not some old biddy with pursed lips who could not w
ait to tell her friends.
She couldn’t help but wonder what Stephen would think if he knew about Jacob. Would he be so calm and trusting then?
Part of her wanted to tell him, if only to elicit a reaction. But she suppressed the words. She simply could not risk it, not yet. The longer no one else knew, the better.
* * *
Miri still hadn’t gotten over the fear and worry caused by the mugging that afternoon, but the nap Mikey had suggested she take had helped. He’d taken her back to the Roths’ penthouse and promised to keep watch by the door. It had taken her a while to drift off, but at least she had, and when she’d woken up two hours later, Mikey had still been by the door as promised, fiddling with his phone.
He’d looked pensive, though, and when she’d asked him why, he’d shrugged the whole thing off with a non-answer. She’d been too emotionally drained to force the issue, instead silently preparing dinner for the two of them. That, she was secretly pleased to see, had nearly made his jaw drop. In his rich man’s world, no one except celebrity chefs and personal chefs cooked. Everyone else ordered takeout or went out to incredibly expensive restaurants.
Good thing Pamela had gone ahead and ordered the groceries Miri had requested a couple days ago. She claimed she wanted cooking lessons, but when Miri had tried to pin her down, Pamela made up excuses about having too much to do already. It was a shame, Miri thought, but at least they had food to eat now.
She’d actually missed cooking. It was a practical skill, and even if she didn’t always enjoy it back in Lancaster County, here it grounded her, made her feel in control again. Mikey and his friends were dependent on other people to feed them. She, however, could take care of herself just fine. In this aspect, anyway.
Within an hour, she had a hearty root-vegetable-and-chicken stew on the table, along with cinnamon apple fritters and store-bought bread. Meanwhile, Mikey lit some candles and opened a bottle of red wine he found in the pantry. Miri took one bite of the bread and cringed. Stale. Bland, with an undertone of something disgustingly sweet. Her own loaf would have been much better, but she would have to make do. Mikey, though, couldn’t stop raving about how talented she was.
