The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3)

by Mary Ellis

  At least Leah’s pies didn’t break down fences and trample daed’s corn crop. Remembering her father’s blustery face only made her feel lonesome. She wouldn’t want to trade places with Leah, despite the fact her own situation was far from idyllic. She’d written back to Leah and given the best advice she could, but it was funny how single women believed everything would be perfect once you got married.

  Jamie’s family was polite to her but still treated her like an outsider. Even his sister, Lily, hadn’t become more relaxed around her since that first afternoon she’d come to Hollyhock Farms with Aunt Hannah. Maybe a woman in veterinary school didn’t think she would have anything in common with someone with an eighth grade education.

  Emma sighed. That wasn’t fair to Lily, who had once told her, “You don’t need to go to school to learn. There’s a world of education to be found in books.” Emma, like Aunt Hannah, loved to read. She knew that she and her sister-in-law hadn’t grown close for the simple reason that Lily was seldom home. Ease in a relationship couldn’t be had if people rarely saw each other. No, the problem wasn’t Lily or even Jamie’s mother, although Mrs. Davis still treated her like a child. Emma supposed that happened when a new bride moved into another woman’s house.

  The problem was herself. Emma longed to have her own home and have time alone with Jamie, at least until bopplin started to arrive. There were so many people around—coming in, going out—and always in a hurry. It was hard to live a simple Amish life, even New Order, in an English home.

  “Emma!” Jamie’s voice finally broke through. “You’re busy woolgathering even when you’re not with your flock.”

  She smiled as he climbed into the buggy. His damp hair was combed back under his black hat and he smelled faintly of Ivory soap. He looked so handsome in his Sunday clothes.

  “Guder mariye again,” she said. “Are you finally ready?”

  “I had to check over an order.” He pulled on his well-trimmed beard, the mark of a married man.

  “Working on the Lord’s day?” she asked, not hiding her annoyance.

  “Not really work. I just had to read a paper my foreman stuck in my face. The order turned out to be fine, no changes necessary. I told him again not to wait until Sunday to tie up loose ends from the week.” Jamie shook the reins over the mare’s back, and they took off down Hollyhock Lane at a trot.

  “I’m glad you reminded him,” she added and turned to watch the scenery as the buggy reached the county road.

  “Today’s the day, my sweet wife.” He reached over to pat her knee.

  “And what day is that?” She looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

  “The day that the James Davis family stays after preaching for lunch and visiting with the other folk.” He stared at the road ahead.

  Emma felt her heart quicken, her back stiffen, and her stomach tighten all at once. “We couldn’t possibly stay after the church service. I didn’t fix any food to share.” She slouched down on the buggy seat and began fiddling with a kapp string. “I can’t show up at a gathering empty handed. It just isn’t done.”

  Jamie reached over and pulled the ribbon from her fingers. “Relax, dear heart. We’re not showing up empty handed, although I believe there are worse sins in the world than that. I asked my mother to fix a roaster of sausage, peppers, and fried potatoes for us to take. I already put it in the back of the buggy.”

  She pivoted on the seat. “Then it should be your mamm going to this get-together instead of me.” She hadn’t meant to sound so cross, but her words just spilled out.

  His eyes narrowed while his smile melted like snow on a spring day. “I asked her to do this because I knew you’d make another excuse as to why we couldn’t socialize within our district. It’s high time, Emma. We’ve been married for two years.” His statement didn’t invite further discussion. “We don’t have to hurry home to tend livestock or visit kin or any of your other excuses.”

  She pursed her lips together. “All right, Jamie,” she said weakly. He was right. People would think something was wrong with them or with their marriage if they didn’t start behaving like a normal couple. But for some reason, Emma was afraid of these people. Despite their Plain clothes and the fact that they used horses and buggies, members of New Order talked on the phone, worked with computers, and were far more worldly and knowledgeable than she. She’d wanted to keep Jamie and herself removed from their new community except for worship.

  In some ways, she hadn’t wanted to share her beloved husband. So she’d made him angry instead. “Your mamm must think I’m a terrible wife.” She gripped the bottom of her white pinafore with both hands.

  He laughed without an ounce of restraint. “No. Actually, she thinks you try hard but are still very shy.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Emma said and returned her focus to the farms they passed. She spent the next forty-five minutes planning her behavior and what topics she would talk about to these almost strangers. She had been worrying and praying about mingling with the ladies without Jamie at her side for more than a year. Now that the day had arrived, she experienced an odd sense of relief. Soon the problem that had loomed large in her mind would be behind her.

  Only ten minutes late, James and Emma Davis walked inside the building that was holding the preaching service. When the crowd spilled into the yard three hours later, the Davises didn’t flee to their buggy. Instead, Emma found herself surrounded by the friendliest group of women she’d ever met. As was usually the case, her fears had been for naught. She’d drawn conclusions and prejudgments that had been unfair and had caused her months of unnecessary grief. The other women both young and elder made her feel at home in their community.

  Oh, Lord, please let me turn to You in all things. I surely would have had an easier time with this if I had.

  Jonah Byler studied his reflection in his shaving mirror, not liking the man he saw. He felt like a phony, a fraud. He was on his way to a Sunday preaching service without a smidgen of the same convictions as the other believers. The only reason he was going was to please his mammi, and because if he didn’t his mamm wouldn’t allow him to attend social gatherings. Thus far he’d only gone to work bees or business-related affairs. But if he was always working somewhere, he’d have no time to get to know Leah Miller. How could he find out if she was the one for him if the diner was their sole meeting place? Plenty of other would-be suitors were always surrounding her there.

  Jonah didn’t like being a hypocrite, yet he planned to bow his head, recite the prayers, chant the hymns, and do his best to contemplate the minister’s message, even though God had turned His back on him. All his prayers for his daed to be healed had gone unanswered. His pleas to remain living in Wisconsin in the town that he loved had gone unanswered. Jonah had felt cast off, unworthy to receive the smallest measure of solace. Didn’t Matthew 5:4 say, “Blessed are those that mourn, for they shall be comforted?” Jonah knew he’d grown bitter, but he couldn’t find the strength to rise above his anger. He would attend church today and pretend to be devout…for Leah’s sake. He’d seen the look of shock and anguish on her sweet face when he’d told her of his fall from grace. Gentle and kindhearted Leah was one of God’s favored children. Didn’t the Beatitudes also say: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God”?

  His own heart felt anything but pure. But maybe if he went through the motions he would regain something, a small bit of what he had lost.

  “Jonah? Are you ready? Your dawdi wants to leave now.” His mother’s voice carried up the steps.

  “Jah, I’ll be right down,” he called and took one last look at himself in the mirror. Then with gritted teeth he marched out of the house toward the barn.

  At least the farm hosting the service wasn’t far away. They arrived in less than thirty minutes, yet folk were already filing into the barn. He had no chance to look for familiar faces. He and his dawdi found places on a bench close to the front because the back rows had already filled up.
His mother and grandmother squeezed in at the end of the third row of the women’s side. Jonah slipped a finger inside the tight neck of his white shirt, attempting to loosen the collar. He glanced around at his fellow worshippers, half expecting fingers pointed in his direction, accompanied by “skeptic” or “doubting Thomas” or at least “backslider.” But no one hurled invectives his way. He’d garnered only mild curiosity because this was his first service since moving to the district whereas his grandparents were well known in the community.

  Jonah began to relax on the bench…until he met the gaze of Leah Miller directly across the room from him. She smiled and mouthed a greeting. He felt the building tilt as though an earthquake had shaken the foundation. He nodded a return greeting as blood rushed into this face.

  Jonah Byler never blushed. Perhaps being in the house of the Lord had caused changes to his biological makeup. He couldn’t meet Leah’s gaze with his face red as a tomato, so he picked up the Ausbund to thumb through. He would count bugs trapped against the window glass or the number of rafters overhead before he would look at Leah.

  Although the building was very warm, he tried to concentrate on the minister’s message, followed by the Scripture readings, several hymns, and finally the second sermon delivered by the bishop. But despite his good intentions, his mind began to wander to a girl with golden brown eyes and reddish brown hair and skin the color of rich buttermilk. But picturing Leah wouldn’t help him much in his current predicament. When the three-hour service concluded, he walked outside with his dawdi, but the elderly man soon sought the company of his peers. Jonah headed toward a table where cups of lemonade waited in the shade.

  “My, my, will wonders never cease?” Leah Miller had crept up behind him. Her question caused his heart to miss a beat.

  “Whether or not it’s a wonder, here I am, Miss Miller. Are you happy to see me?” He turned to face her.

  “I don’t know yet. Too soon to tell.” She reached for a drink the same time as he. Their fingers touched for a single moment. “I had my eye on that cup of lemonade first,” she said.

  He picked up the particular cup among many others and handed it to her. “I don’t see your bevy of admirers,” he said, reaching for another cup of lemonade.

  She pulled a face. “And you won’t see them here. They live in a different district. Why do they concern you so much? This isn’t the first time you have asked about them.” She sipped her drink.

  Jonah thought and found no suitable answer other than the truth—something she might not want to hear. But he’d be no worse off than he was right now if she turned him down. In his few moments of hesitation, people had walked up to the table and crowded in on all sides. “Will you walk with me to the pond? It’s still in sight of your parents and my family. I’d rather have a little privacy.”

  Leah glanced around before answering. “All right, but it’s almost time to eat.”

  They walked a short distance to the weathered dock, which had been built for fishing or to cool off on a hot summer day.

  Jonah took off his hat and slicked a hand through his hair. Feeling Leah’s gaze on him, he forged ahead. “I asked about those fellows because one or two or all three are usually hovering every time I come around. I want to know how you feel about them, and if you have settled on one to court.”

  Her head snapped back as though she hadn’t been expecting the question. One or two uncomfortable moments passed before she answered. “I don’t wish to be courted by any of them, but I do consider them my friends.”

  “What about me? Do you consider me your friend?” he asked, stepping closer.

  Her forehead furrowed into creases and folds. “Jah, I guess I do. And you certainly need friends, don’t you, Jonah?” Her dimples deepened with the beginnings of a smile.

  “I do, but I can look elsewhere for pals.” He didn’t wish to joke around. “I’m looking at you as someone I’d like to court. But if you’re not interested in me, then I’d appreciate it if you would tell me that right now.” He set his hat back on his head and stared out at the cool dark water.

  Silence spun out between them and then she giggled. “Goodness, you are direct. Tell me, Jonah, if I say I’m not interested in courting you, will you hurry back to the lunch tables and set your sights on someone else?”

  He stared at her. “Nope. If you say you don’t like me, I’ll walk off this dock into deep water.” He hooked a thumb toward the rickety end that was listing to one side.

  “On a day like today?” she asked, suppressing a laugh. “The cool water would feel wunderbaar.”

  “Maybe so, but I grew up in Wisconsin, remember? Our ponds and lakes are so cold I never learned how to swim.”

  A grin filled her pretty face. “We can’t have that, can we?” She tugged his shirtsleeve to pull him back from the edge. “Folk jumping in to pull you to safety? And then sitting around all afternoon in damp clothes?”

  “I would make a poor impression on my first visit to church services.”

  “Does it mean we’re no longer friends if I agree to court you? Because the way I figure it, you’d be back down to zero.” She clasped her hands behind her back.

  He laughed and shook his head. “That’s not true. Rachel and Martha Hostetler seemed to like me at the wedding supper as well as your bruder. So I would still have three.” He bent low, close to her ear. “But I’d really like it if you were my friend and considered being my girl.” He straightened up and drew on every ounce of his courage. “Because I think you’re awfully pretty, Leah, and nice, and not a bad cook, either.” He’d added his last statement to lighten the moment, but it produced the opposite effect.

  Now his compliments had become personal, and suddenly Leah resembled a scared rabbit. All frivolity vanished from her face as she crossed her arms over her pinafore. She recalled her father’s words and wanted to move forward with caution. “Stop your flattery, Jonah Byler. I agreed to ride home with you after a Sunday singing and maybe get to know you a little better, but you’ve got no cause to start filling my head with nonsense.” She stomped her booted foot and marched off the dock. “I’m getting in line for lunch before it’s all gone. Come along or stay where you are. It’s up to you.”

  “I’m coming,” he called, hurrying to catch up without a clue why the mood had changed. They walked in silence halfway back, and then she abruptly stopped on the path. “Is this why you came here today, to ask me to court you?” The breeze blew a strand of golden brown hair across her face. She tucked it beneath her kapp while watching him intently.

  “It is.” He liked her so much he decided to tell the honest truth.

  “Is it the only reason?”

  He shrugged. “My mamm said no social occasions unless I start attending church.”

  “I guess it’s a start, isn’t it?” she said as they walked back to where a buffet line had formed. But sadness shaded her words, as though she’d been hoping for a different response.

  He could have lied to her but he hadn’t. She was the only reason he’d come today. He’d tried paying attention to the sermons and to the Scripture, but his heart had hardened to the words. Sorrow had put up a wall around him—one that might be able to allow Leah Miller in, but was intended to keep God out.

  Although the tourist business was usually thin on Tuesdays, the day turned out anything but quiet for April. This was Leah’s day to stay home baking the pies, cakes, muffins, and cookies for the diner for the coming week. She also baked for her family and helped her mother with the ironing. That meant that April waited on tables, cooked, and cleaned up afterward alone. Even with a light crowd, she barely had a chance to draw a deep breath, let alone sit down. She prepared a lunch special of barbecue beef over mashed potatoes or served in a sandwich. The cold salad plate had been no-fuss beets and cucumbers, and the vegetable soup sold out early. Fortunately, only a few customers selected menu items that needed to be cooked to order.

  April rang up the bill for a group of ladies on their w
ay to a quilting seminar and exhaled a weary sigh of satisfaction. She would close up the restaurant, pick up her kids from the babysitter, and take them swimming while the afternoon remained hot. Then she heard the bell over the front door jangle as she was turning down the air-conditioning and switching off lights. “We’re closed,” she hollered through the kitchen door. She listened but heard no follow-up jingling to signal that the customer had left.

  “I don’t know why folks can’t read the sign on the door or check out the posted hours,” she muttered to herself.

  Slipping her apron over her head, she marched out to see what the tardy customer wanted. Except it wasn’t a customer at all. Whip Jenkins sat at the gleaming chrome and Formica counter eating the last of the blackberry pie straight from the tin. He hadn’t bothered with a plate and must have helped himself at the silverware drawer. April swallowed down her irritation with his rudeness as she approached her landlord.

  “Why, Mr. Jenkins,” she said. “You’ve just saved me a postage stamp.” She forced a brittle smile. “I have your rent check in my purse.”

  “Is that right?” He glanced up and then dug into the second slice as though it were a county fair eating contest. When he finished off the pan with a smack of his lips, he focused his deep-set eyes on her. “And I trust you’re talking about a two-month rent check?” He reached for a napkin, swiped at his mouth, and threw the wadded paper down on the counter.

  “Yes, sir, this month’s rent and last. Thank you for being patient.” She tried the phony smile for a second time.

  “The truth is, Mrs. Lambright, I’m not really a patient man. For some reason I’m being more so with you than my other deadbeat renters.” He stared with eyes colder than spring water in January.