His New Amish Family

by Patricia Davids

  “Not hopeless but you have room for improvement.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  He pressed a hand to his chest. “Me? I have room for improvement? You are mistaken. I’m charming, I’m talented. I can sell the shirt off someone’s back before he notices. Hey, bidder, bidder.”

  Sophie came out of the plastic playhouse to stand between them. Clara looked at her daughter. “Do you see that? There he goes again. Loving the sound of his own voice. He is a vain man and not Amish at all.”

  “Hey, bidder, bidder, bidder. Who’ll give me a penny for this opinionated woman’s opinion?”

  “Opinionated?” Her voice rose in mock outrage. She struggled to ignore the laughter lurking in his eyes.

  Sophie tugged on Clara’s apron. She looked down to discover her daughter’s eyes wide in her worried face. “Are you and Paul arguing?”

  “Nee, little one. We aren’t. We are only teasing each other.”

  “Are you sure?” Her tiny voice quivered as a tear trickled down her cheek.

  Paul dropped to one knee. “Don’t cry, liebschen. We aren’t mad at each other.”

  “Mamm sounded mad.”

  Clara sank to her knees and pulled Sophie into her arms. “I was just playacting. You know how Toby pretends to be a pirate sometimes? I was playacting like that.”

  Paul laid a hand on Sophie’s head and wobbled it back and forth. “No more frowning. You need to smile or I will think you are mad at me.”

  She hid her face against her mother’s dress. “I’m not mad at you. I like you.”

  “Only because I let you sit on Gracie.”

  Sophie glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Are you going to bring her over today? That would make me feel better.”

  He burst into laughter. “You are a wheedler.”

  “Nee, I’m a Fisher.”

  Clara scooped her up and stood. “You are a Fisher who knows how to wheedle.”

  “A talent I suspect she gets from her mother.” Paul rose to his feet. “Let’s put the playhouse here temporarily and move it when we can decide which area gets the best light.”

  Clara nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.” She put Sophie down and the girl went back to playing inside the tent.

  He grinned. “I have them sometimes. Good ideas, that is. How is life with Charlotte?”

  Clara chuckled. “She has been as charming and as accommodating as possible. We are all settling in.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “What’s the news on the auction?”

  “Ralph is happy that you have moved out. No surprise there. I’ve started on the inside of the house, and I have most of the items sorted into bundles.”

  “I don’t suppose that you uncovered some critical documents?”

  “I wish I had. Have you heard anything from Nick?”

  Clara shook her head. “It has only been a few days.” She walked into the garden and sat on the wicker bench beneath the rose arbor. The last of the midsummer blooms were fading but they still scented the air with their rich perfume. “The time is slipping away so quickly. Every day my hope fades a little more. Why is God doing this to me?”

  He sat down beside her. “Don’t despair.”

  “It’s hard to accept that Ralph has cheated my daughter out of her chance for a normal life.” Clara covered her face with her hand. “I can’t forgive that and it’s wrong of me.”

  Paul hated to see her so upset. He laid a hand on her shoulder. She leaned her head over and pressed her cheek against his fingers. “I wish I could take it all away.”

  She managed a wry smile. “I would let you.”

  He bent to place a kiss on her forehead. She sighed and lifted her face to his. He couldn’t resist the temptation. He gently kissed her lips. She didn’t pull away. He cupped her head and deepened the kiss, awestruck by the surge of tenderness that filled his soul.

  Chapter Eleven

  Clara turned her face away and Paul released her. She touched her mouth with her fingertips and drew a ragged breath. “You’re going to tell me this shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I thought about saying that but it would be a lie.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “I’m not going to promise that, either.”

  She cast him a sidelong glance. “You’re flirting with me.”

  “It’s what I do.”

  She wanted to be angry with him but she couldn’t. “Are you going to tell me that you have fallen madly in love with me?”

  “Are you going to believe me if I do?”

  “Nee. I think you decided to distract me from my self-pity.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Did it work?”

  “Are you ever serious?”

  “I can’t remember a time.”

  She smoothed the ribbons of her kapp. “Danki, my friend.”

  “For what?” He reached out and wound one ribbon around his finger.

  “For reminding me that I am more than the mother of a sick child.”

  He tugged on her ribbon. “Yes, you are. Much, much more. Don’t forget it.”

  “If I do, my dear friend will be here to remind me.” She turned her head to the right. “We have a visitor.”

  Paul had to lean to see around her. Clyde sat looking up at them with a doggy grin on his face. He stood, woofed once and trotted away.

  Clara looked at Paul. “I thought you said he liked to jump on people.”

  “Only people who aren’t paying attention,” Charlotte said as she came out the back door with a plate full of cookies. “You two are very attuned to one another. Oatmeal or peanut butter?”

  Paul scooted away from Clara’s side. She missed his warmth and the comfort his nearness gave her. “Nothing for me,” she said.

  Paul rose to his feet. “I love oatmeal cookies.”

  Charlotte smiled at him. “Among other things.”

  He took two from her plate. “I have to get going. I won’t be around for a few days. I have a lot to do.”

  As he hurried away, Clara had the impression that he was running away from her.

  Charlotte sat and took a bite of an oatmeal cookie. “I think I may have left out the cinnamon. How long have you known that you’re falling in love with him?”

  Clara took a cookie and sampled it. “You forgot the nutmeg. About five minutes.”

  “I believe you’re right. It is missing the nutmeg. What are you going to do about it?”

  Clara leaned a shoulder against Charlotte. “You can’t add the nutmeg after the cookie dough has been baked.”

  And she couldn’t force Paul into anything more than a flirtatious friendship. She would have to be content with that. Somehow.

  * * *

  “I have got to do something more for her. I feel like I’m helping steal Sophie’s chance for a normal life.” Paul paced in his uncle’s living room while his brother and several of his cousins sat around him. He couldn’t get the kiss out of his mind, or the overwhelming need to go kiss her again. It was ridiculous, and he knew it but he didn’t know how to fight it.

  He was grateful she hadn’t taken it seriously. If only he could be so flippant.

  Samuel stood by the back door watching the children playing with Clyde. “You are right about the fact that you can’t just cancel your contract with Hobson. He will simply get someone else to sell the farm for him.”

  “Then someone else would have to deal with their conscience.” And lose sleep over it.

  “It might make you feel better but it won’t improve Sophie’s chances of getting a transplant.” Samuel left the back door and came to sit in one of the chairs by the fireplace.

  “I know. That’s why I asked all of you here. I need your help. What can I do? Timothy, there ha
s to be a way to raise the money for her.”

  “Holding a fund-raiser is not a problem,” Isaac said. “Setting up to raise half a million dollars will take time and a lot of work.”

  “I don’t mind the hard work. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “The annual county firefighters fair is on next week. They raise a lot of money for the volunteer fire department.” Timothy sat opposite of Noah at the chess table.

  “What of it?” Paul asked.

  “If we could add Sophie’s name to the fund-raiser and say we are splitting the funds, most folks would give to her cause as well and it will bring attention to her plight. A lot of people will already be coming to the fair. I’m sure they’ll be willing to support two good causes.”

  “You could take up a collection at the auction,” Noah suggested.

  “That’s an idea.” At least one good thing would come out of the day. “Timothy, can I leave the details of the fund-raising to you?”

  “Sure. Do you need help the day of the sale?”

  “I do.”

  “Count on me,” Samuel said.

  “Me, too,” Noah and Timothy said together.

  “Thanks. I don’t know what I would do without this family.”

  “When is the date again?” Noah asked.

  “Three weeks from Saturday.”

  “Got it. Don’t worry. We will see that little Sophie gets all the help she needs.”

  * * *

  “When were you going to tell me about this?” Clara shook a newspaper in Paul’s face before he’d had his first cup of coffee. Thankfully, no one else was in his uncle’s kitchen.

  He pulled away from her. “Tell you about what?”

  “About this.” She stabbed a finger at an article in the paper.

  “You knew the sale was going to be advertised in the paper. You knew that from the beginning.”

  “I’m not talking about the sale. I’m talking about the date. This is next week.”

  Paul frowned and pulled the paper from her hand. “Let me see that.”

  He studied the farm sale announcement. It included all the things he had told the paper about the sale. They had the right farm. But the date was two weeks earlier than he had planned. “This isn’t right. It’s some kind of mix-up. They will have to print a retraction and include the right date.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips. “They had better print a retraction.”

  “Calm down. I’m going over to the shop and call them right now. We can’t have people showing up two weeks ahead of time. I won’t be ready.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Let me handle this. I thought you trusted me by now.”

  “I do. I’m sorry I got so angry. Opal sent a note to say Dan is making a recovery but it’s slow. He may not be able to tell me anything before the auction, especially if it’s held early.”

  “There is no guarantee he can tell you anything about the trust even if he does recover enough to speak.”

  She seemed to deflate before Paul’s eyes. “I know. But he is my only hope. I have talked to everyone else who knew my uncle and none of them can help me.”

  He reached out and took her hand. “Clara, you have to have faith that things will work out. Maybe not the way you thought they would.”

  “Call the paper right away and make them change the date to the original one we decided on. I need more time, Paul. Sophie won’t be able to use the lights forever. She needs that surgery. I can accept it if God calls her home before He calls me but I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t done everything possible to give her a chance at life.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I know. I want her to have that chance, too. Never believe that I am against you.”

  “I’m sorry. I accused you without thinking. It was such a shock to see it in black-and-white.”

  “Let me go over to the workshop and straighten this out. It was a simple mistake, and I’m sure they will fix it. I’ve arranged for flyers to be put up in the shops and stores. I’ve ordered roadside signs made with the right date. You will have your extra two weeks. I wish I could give you more time.”

  “I know you do and I appreciate all you have done so far.”

  When she looked at him like that, with unshed tears glistening in her eyes, he couldn’t resist pulling her into his arms to give her the comfort she desperately needed. She melted against him as though she couldn’t stay upright without him.

  “Danki, Paul Bowman. You are a dear friend.”

  He wanted to be more than her friend. He wanted to be the man who had the right to hold her every day but he wasn’t the fellow she needed. She needed someone she could build a future with. He had nothing but an overpriced van, the ability to make people laugh and buy items they didn’t really need.

  She raised her face to look at him. “I don’t know how I would’ve managed without your help.”

  It took every ounce of willpower that he possessed not to kiss her. “You would have managed just fine. I have never met a stronger woman or a more amazing mother. I am honored to be your friend.”

  She dropped her gaze and sighed gently. “You think too highly of me.”

  He forced himself to let her go as she stepped back. He didn’t know his heart could ache so much or that his arms could feel so empty. “I’d better get going and call the paper so they have time to get the changes in for tomorrow.”

  He walked out the door and he didn’t look back because he was afraid she would read the longing on his face. She needed a friend and he would be her friend no matter what it cost him.

  * * *

  Clara watched him until he was out of sight. She was a fool for throwing herself at Paul in such a wanton fashion. It had been a moment of weakness and nothing more. Not so long ago she would have heeded her common sense and kept her distance from him. Recently, her common sense had taken a back seat to her loneliness and the desire to be held. Not just by anyone but by Paul.

  She had been warned that he wasn’t the marrying type. She thought she wasn’t, either. Her children demanded all her time and energy, she needed a way to support them, a way to keep a roof over their heads but the more she was around Paul, the more willing she was to share those burdens with him. He liked her children and they adored him. Simply being able to talk about her fears and her hopes helped to ease those very fears. And Paul was very easy to talk to.

  She went back into the house. Twenty minutes later, she heard Paul come in. She braced herself to act normal and not seek his embrace again. One look at his face sent thoughts of furthering their relationship out the window. “What is it, Paul? What’s wrong?”

  “Ralph called the paper and had them change the date. He called the printer and told him to change the flyers, too. He also made sure that they wouldn’t listen to me when I insisted the dates be changed back.”

  “How can he expect you to get everything done in such a short amount of time?”

  “I don’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe he thinks I have been stalling because of you. Maybe he wants to hire a new auctioneer, and he’s trying to make me quit. I won’t know until I can speak to him.”

  “That’s it then. The farm is going to be his.”

  “He will sell it without my help. As far as I’m concerned, this is a breach of contract on his part. I’m out. I should have been since the start. I can’t profit while you suffer.”

  “Don’t do it, Paul. Don’t withdraw.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you hated the idea that I was working for him.”

  “Originally, I did. But I was being selfish. I know that you need the commission from the sale to get your business underway and to pay back your brother. I know all that is important to you.”

  “Being fair and just is more important to me. Mark will understand.”

&n
bsp; “I believe that but only one of us should end up a loser because of Ralph’s scheme. You have put so much work into this already and you deserve to be paid. ‘For the scripture saith, thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn. And, the labourer is worthy of his reward.’ Timothy 5:18. It was one of my uncle’s favorite passages.”

  “I can’t put a financial reward ahead of you and your children.”

  “You aren’t. If Ralph has someone else take over, that person may not be as kind to me and the children as you have been. The best way to protect us is to stay employed by Ralph. I know you don’t feel right doing so but I want you to handle the sale of this place. You know it’s more than a plot of dirt and an old house. It was a home and a man’s life’s work. It’s important to me that it be handled with respect.”

  “Clara, I can’t.”

  “I want you to do it.”

  “I wish there was another way.”

  She cupped his face. “I wish there was, too, but I don’t want you to lose what you have worked so hard for. If you quit now, Ralph wins more than the farm.”

  “If you feel strongly about it.”

  “I do. I honestly do.” Maybe her reasons were more selfish than she let on. She did want him to prosper but she couldn’t tell him that seeing him every day was the real reason behind her suggestion.

  The outside door opened and Jessica came in. “I’m glad I caught you, Paul. There is a voice-mail message for you from Opal Kauffman. She says her father would like to see you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Clara kept a tight grip on Paul’s hand as Jessica drove them to the hospital. She tried not to get her hopes up but this was what she had been waiting for. Dan Kauffman had been Eli’s best friend. She couldn’t imagine anyone else he would’ve trusted with his last wishes.

  Jessica pulled into the parking lot and stopped. She turned around. “I’ll wait here for you.”

  Paul opened the door and helped Clara out. Together they hurried into the hospital lobby and took the elevator to the rehabilitation floor. At the nurse’s station, they were directed to Dan Kauffman’s room. Opal was sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed. She rose when they came in. “I’m glad to see you got my message.”