“You’re afraid he won’t understand your letter?”
“I’m just afraid he won’t like it. It’s too flowery. And once I got started, I just couldn’t stop. When I saw that I had five pages, I knew it was too much.”
Elsie looked toward the door as the bells jingled. “Five pages is a lot. You want him to know you accept him. You can tell him your life story later.”
“That’s what I thought,” Emma said. “So I’m rewriting it. Again.”
They both looked up from the counter as the customer, an Englisher woman dressed in a bright red hat, peeked out from the fabric aisle. “Do you sell those little handmade dolls?” the woman asked.
“My sister and I used to make them,” Elsie said, then explained how they no longer carried Amish crafts. “I would like to start selling things like that again, but I need to work it out with my father and our bishop.”
“I’ve been looking everywhere for those dolls,” the woman said. “My daughter runs a gift shop on the West Coast, and she’s got me on a mission. She thinks she could sell a lot of them.”
“Do you want to give me her name and address?” Elsie asked. “I could get you some in a few weeks.”
“Really? That would be wonderful!”
Emma kept quiet as Elsie exchanged information with the woman. But once the door closed, she turned to her sister. “What was that about? Has Dat changed his mind?”
“He still doesn’t want to have Amish crafts in the store. But that doesn’t mean we can’t sell some dolls to that woman directly.”
Emma folded her arms. “Why, Elsie Lapp, I think you might be on to something. But you will tell Dat, won’t you?”
“Ya, but if you haven’t noticed, he’s not so concerned about the store these days. I think he’s worried about Fanny.”
Fanny Lapp was expecting, but the midwife had some concerns about the way things were going. Fanny insisted that everything was fine, but she couldn’t be on her feet in the store until the baby was born.
Elsie slid off her stool. “If you’ll mind the register, I’m going to change the front window display. Dat doesn’t like to fuss over it, but I can’t stand to see dust swirling around the cans of soda pop sitting there.”
“Do you want some help?” Emma offered. “I’m not exactly struggling to keep up with customers, considering there’s no one in the store.”
“I can do it. You finish that letter to Gabe.”
As her sister lined the display window with white butcher’s paper, Emma opened her satchel and took out the new letter she’d started that morning.
Dear Gabe was written at the top of an empty page. That was all she had so far. Now that she’d decided not to spill all her feelings, she had trouble figuring out what to say.
She stared down at the blank page, feeling like one of her students who couldn’t find the words to begin an essay.
“How’s it going?” Elsie called from the display window, a spot most people would have had to duck in, though Elsie was short enough to stand up straight.
“Not so good. This is a hard letter to write.”
“It looks like you’ve been spared the chore.” Elsie moved to the front plate glass and waved at someone on the street. “Gabe is here. He’s outside, hitching up a carriage.”
“What?” Emma shoved the letter in with her papers and raced to the door. There he was, lingering in the drizzling rain to check Mercury’s bit and pat his withers. “What’s he doing in town?”
“Why don’t you go ask him?” Elsie said with a chuckle.
Emma flew out the door and nearly skidded to a stop on the sidewalk in front of the shop. “Gabe?”
He swung around, his amber eyes growing round with surprise. “Emma. What are you doing here?”
“Helping out at the shop. And you?”
“I came to pick up Leah and Susie.” He pointed across the street. “They’re apprentices at the tea shop.”
Emma smiled. She’d taught Susie and Leah until they’d finished eighth grade just last spring. “Lovina is blessed to get such good girls. They’ll work hard for her.” She turned back to see Elsie watching from the shop window. “Do you have a minute to stop into the shop? I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” This would save her the agony of getting the letter just right.
“Sure.”
Gabe went first, and Emma noticed for the first time that his head nearly grazed the door frame. Had he always been that tall? They were close to the same height when they were sitting together in his buggy. But since she’d tried to keep her distance at social events, they had rarely stood side by side.
That would be changing.
“Do you know my sister Elsie?” Emma gestured toward the window. “This is Gabe King.”
“Hi, Gabe.” Elsie came to the edge of the shop window to meet him. “Is it still raining out there?”
“Just sprinkling.” He took off his hat and hung it on the hook by the door. His eyes were cautious as he looked around the store. “Is your dat here?”
“He went on a buying trip with Caleb,” Emma said.
Gabe nodded, walking past jars of licorice, pretzels, and gummi bears. “So you’re just two kids in a candy store.”
Elsie laughed, and Emma couldn’t help but smile. That was the thing with Gabe; he made her feel like a carefree kid instead of a prim, stern schoolteacher.
“If you want to go in the back and talk, I’ll mind the store,” Elsie said.
Emma could have kissed her. “Denki. We’ll just be a minute.”
She motioned to Gabe to follow, and he shot Elsie a curious shrug before turning into the open doorway. He paused there, a puzzled look on his face. “What is going on here?”
Emma giggled and grabbed his hand, tugging him away from the doorway. “Elsie knows. I told her.”
“You did?” He lifted her hand to his face and planted a kiss there. “Getting a bit daring, Teacher Emma.”
“I guess I am.”
“This is a new Emma. Spilling secrets and pulling me into the storage room.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I think I like her.”
“I thought you would.” Emma wavered in the delicate rush of emotion that swelled inside whenever Gabe was near. She pressed her face to his chest, her cheek against the damp cloth of his jacket, which smelled of wood smoke and soap. The world seemed right when she was in Gabe’s arms.
“Emma …” His voice was a whisper. “This was sure worth a ride in the rain.” He held her close, his fingertips brushing her bare neck, just below the line of her prayer kapp. “You’re full of surprises today.”
“I guess I am.” She looked up at his handsome face. “I think it’s time, Gabe. We don’t need to sneak around anymore.”
“Really?” He threw his head back. “Yahoo!”
“But you can’t go crazy now. No howling like a wolf.”
He smiled down at her. “Teacher Emma, you’re so strict.”
She laughed at his teasing. “We can let people know we’re courting. Elsie knows, and I’m going to tell Dat when he gets back.”
“That is good news, Emma. I want folks to know. I’ll stop and shout it from the hilltops on my way home.”
“I think we should start by telling our families,” she said. “Everyone else will figure it out when they see us together at the next singing.”
“I like my plan better.” With that, he lifted her off her feet and held her in his arms to place a kiss on her lips.
She closed her eyes and gave herself to the spark of love and the drumming of her heartbeat. His mouth moved over hers so tenderly. It was easy to lose herself in Gabe’s kiss. How she loved him!
The jangle of the bells reminded her that they were in the shop.
Kissing in the afternoon.
In a very public place.
Had she lost all her common sense?
Gabe released her, and once her feet touched the ground she took his hand and pulled him to the back of the storage room.
Emma put a finger to her lips, and they both pressed against the shelves to listen.
“I’ll take two yards of the black organdy.” The voice belonged to an older woman. “I’m sewing a dress for my niece. She’s getting baptized next week.”
“Lizzy Mast?” Elsie asked. “She’s been taking the classes with my sister Emma.”
“Ya, I heard the schoolteacher was getting baptized. She does a very good job with the children.…”
As they talked on, Emma turned to Gabe. “Elizabeth Mast’s aunt?” she whispered.
A second later, they both blinked when they realized who it was.
Lois Mast.
They both mouthed the words: “The bishop’s wife …”
Emma covered her face with her hands.
This wasn’t good.
If Bishop Samuel’s wife found Emma back here, alone with Gabe … She closed her eyes as misery soaked through her good mood. Folks didn’t expect to find their schoolteacher kissing a boy in the back room of a shop. Lois Mast wouldn’t be saying such kind words about the schoolteacher if she knew what had been going on back here.
She edged toward the doorway to peer out. Lois had her back to the storeroom. Elsie stood at the counter cutting fabric, her face a sea of calm.
Emma scanned the shop. There was Gabe’s damp hat, hanging by the door. Would Lois notice? She would want to know whom it belonged to.…
But black hats were not out of the ordinary, and people didn’t usually come to the back room of the shop, and Elsie would do her best to steer Lois away from them. They were probably safe.
She looked at Gabe, who shrugged, as if apologizing. But it wasn’t his fault. Emma was the one who had dragged him back here.
She was supposed to be a model of good behavior for her students. What had she been thinking?
“Maybe we should hide you,” she whispered, eyeing the bolts of cloth stacked on one of the wide shelves. Thoughts of burying Gabe under a mound of fabric were going through her head when she heard the bells jingle again.
The shop was silent a moment, and then came Elsie’s voice.
“She’s gone.”
Emma peered out at the shop. Empty, but for Elsie. “That was a close call.”
Elsie’s head bobbed as she nodded vigorously. “She hasn’t stopped in for months and now, today, she suddenly has a sewing project!”
“Nothing quite like hiding in a storeroom to make an afternoon exciting.” Gabe strode straight to the door, pausing to put on his hat. “Maybe next time we can hide out in a toolshed,” he said, winking at Emma.
“I’ve had enough of hiding.” Emma pressed a hand to her chest. “I thought my heart was going to hammer clear out of my chest.”
“Ya? And I thought that was because you were with me,” Gabe teased.
She nudged his shoulder playfully. “I like the way you toss off a close call. Like you weren’t even scared at all.”
“I’m not afraid of the bishop’s wife,” he said. “But I didn’t want to get you in trouble, Emma. Denki, Elsie. You got her out the door in good time.”
Elsie smiled. “Someday we’ll look back and laugh at this.”
“I’m still too rattled to see the humor.” Emma turned to Gabe, who had his hand on the door. “Before you leave, I wanted to invite you to Sunday dinner. It’s an off Sunday, and Fanny and Dat will surely welcome you to our table. Dat’s going to like you. Will you join us?”
“I want to come, but …” He squinted off into the distance. “But this Sunday … that’s not a good day. There’s plans already.…” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I understand. Most families do visits on the off Sunday.”
“But maybe the next Sunday?”
“That’s a church day—the baptism.”
“Right.” He sucked in his lower lip. “How could I forget? We’re hosting.”
“That’ll be a busy week for your family.”
He reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. Her hand felt so tiny in his! It made her feel feminine and protected. “I guess we’ll have to wait a bit for the dinner.”
“Just a few weeks,” he said. “But we can spend time together at the singing. And I’ll give you a ride home in my buggy.”
Emma nodded, joy bubbling inside her. Soon everyone would know their secret. Emma loved Gabe, and she was finally ready to share it with the world.
NINETEEN
It was nearly closing time at the tea shop, and Annie couldn’t wait to get home to spend one last evening with Sarah, Perry, and Mark. Today was Thursday—their last night in Halfway—and she wanted to be home to help with the dinner preparation. But all the Stoltzfus women wanted to be home tomorrow to see their travelers off. That meant making sure that their new apprentices, Leah and Susie King, were adept at handling the tea shop on their own for most of the day.
Watching Susie deliver cookies to a group of Englisher mamms and their daughters, Annie decided that the King girls would do just fine. Susie was quick on her feet, and she seemed to enjoy chatting with customers. Like a hummingbird buzzing from one flower to the next, she merrily moved from table to table.
“You mean the Halfway Mill Covered Bridge?” she asked. “I knew it was old, but two hundred years old! That’s older than Mammi Nell.”
“I don’t know your grandmother, but I’m pretty sure that’s true.” Ed Kraybill, owner of the fish and game shop in town, was one of their regulars. He usually stopped for coffee to go in the morning, then stayed for a leisurely cup of tea just before closing.
“Would you like another cup?” Susie asked Mr. Kraybill politely.
“No, no. Any more to drink and I’ll float away.” He took a five-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Susie. “Keep the change.”
“Denki.” As the man rose, Susie cleared his empty cup and reminded him not to forget his overcoat on the hook by the door.
Wiping down the counter, Annie smiled. Susie was a very good fit for the shop. Anyone who could get a nice tip out of Mr. Kraybill had to be doing a good job. And although Leah was no match for Susie’s bubbly personality, she was a hard worker, just what was needed in the back room, where the dishes had to be cleaned in steaming hot water.
Susie went over to the big table to tend to the women and girls, while Annie began to wash down the counter. The shop was almost empty, but she didn’t want to rush the Englishers, and there was plenty of cleanup that could be done while they enjoyed their late tea and cookies.
She delivered a tray of dirty dishes to the back room, where Hannah and Leah were working together and talking. With the water running from the hose, they didn’t hear her behind them.
“Sometimes, at the end of the day, I’m happy to rest my feet in bed and feel the quiet all around me,” Hannah was telling Leah. “There’s so much talking that goes on here. Some folks don’t think the air is good unless it’s filled with voices.”
“I know what you mean.” Leah stacked mugs in the rinse rack. “Sometimes quiet is a good thing.”
Hannah dunked two dirty mugs in the soapy water. “I don’t need to talk all the time.”
“Me neither. I like quiet,” Leah said. “Why do people think they have to yackety-yack all the time?”
Hannah sighed, leaning away from the steam. “I don’t know. But Annie says I need to work on my conversation skills. I don’t have the gift of gab. I’m trying to learn, but I don’t really like it.”
Poor Hannah. She didn’t understand how important the art of conversation was in finding a beau. Especially with a quiet man like Jonah, who wasn’t so good at filling in the silent spaces. Jonah had even been nicknamed the Quiet One, but when Annie had seen him with Hannah this week, she had realized that her sister was even more at a loss for words than he was.
In the past few days, Jonah had been talking more than ever before. What a sense of humor he had! He seemed to enjoy laughing, and he was a magnet for the little ones, w
ho loved to watch him fix a pump or repair a broken door. Jonah could turn his chores into cheerful adventures that captured Levi’s attention. Annie would never have guessed that such a wit had been hidden behind that wall of quiet. But whenever Jonah King had come up with a few clever things to say, dear Hannah had stood there looking at the ground!
What would it take to make Hannah come alive in a conversation? Her communications with customers were short and flat. One-word answers, with barely a smile. Earlier in the day, when Hannah had been waiting tables up front, Annie had pulled her sister aside and tried to get her to practice small talk.
“Listen to the talk that goes on in this shop,” Annie had told Hannah. “Some folks have the gift of gab, and it can make a person warm up to you in no time. You should try it. Say something cheerful, and always be polite.”
“I have good manners,” Hannah had said. “But I don’t like talking to strangers. I’m just not a chatterbox, and I don’t know any of these people.”
“You can get to know them by talking with them,” Annie suggested. “Folks like to talk about their families or their pets. The tourists come with lots of questions, and you know all there is to know about Halfway.”
A few minutes later, when Hannah asked a customer about the weather, Annie couldn’t help but smile. Hannah was trying her best, but it would take time. The gift of gab was going to take a while, but patience was a virtue. If Hannah could learn how to make small talk, Annie could learn patience.
When Annie and Hannah got home from the tea shop that night the living room was filled with boxes and bags. Sarah and Perry were packing everything they could fit in the van—a dresser and a hope chest, and so many bags and boxes. Sunny kept barking at the suspicious piles of boxes.
“Does she think they’re cows?” Perry joked.
“A fine watchdog we have,” Annie said as she ushered the dog out the door. After that, she avoided that room, not wanting the reminder of what would happen tomorrow.
After dinner, Annie savored the chance to tuck little Mark in for the last time. Tonight he didn’t want to go up, and she swept him into her arms to plant ticklish kisses on his neck until he surrendered.
A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 11
