by Tricia Goyer
HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover by Garborg Design Works
Cover photos © neirfy, Loraliu, llaszlo, SCPhotog, Elysium Multimedia / Bigstock
Published in association with Books & Such Management, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 95409-5370, www.booksandsuch.com
Published in association with the Steve Laube Agency, LLC, 5025 N. Central Ave., #635, Phoenix, Arizona, 85012.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
PLANTED WITH HOPE
Copyright © 2016 Tricia Goyer and Sherry Gore
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Goyer, Tricia, author. | Gore, Sherry, 1965- author.
Title: Planted with hope / Tricia Goyer and Sherry Gore.
Description: Eugene, Oregon: Harvest House Publishers, [2016]
Series: Pinecraft Pie Shop; 2
Identifiers: LCCN 2015038965 | ISBN 9780736961318 (pbk.) | ISBN 9780736961325 (eBook) Subjects: | GSAFD: Love stories. | Christian fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3607.O94 P58 2016 | DDC 813/.6—dc23 LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015038965
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s and publisher’s rights is strictly prohibited.
Contents
Prologue
Butter Pecan Ice Cream
Chapter One
Becky Fisher’s Sauerkraut
Chapter Two
Sunshine Pie
Chapter Three
Emma’s Peanut Better Cookies
Chapter Four
Peanut Butter Pie
Chapter Five
Old-Fashioned Cream Pie
Chapter Six
Vegetables in a California Garden, 1933
Chapter Seven
Cherry Pie
Chapter Eight
Lovina’s Pie Crust
Chapter Nine
Bean Soup
Chapter Ten
Victory Gardening, 1942
Chapter Eleven
Orange Fritters, 1942
Chapter Twelve
Potato Casserole with Eggs in Bacon Nests, 1918
Chapter Thirteen
Sowing
Chapter Fourteen
Pea-Pod Soup
Chapter Fifteen
Working with Mother Nature
Chapter Sixteen
Onion Soup Gratinée
Chapter Seventeen
Aunt Effie’s Custard Johnny Cake
Chapter Eighteen
Upside-Down Vegetable Cake
Chapter Nineteen
Grapefruit Pie, 1940
Chapter Twenty
Baked Corn
Poppy Seed Chicken
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ranger Cookies
Chapter Twenty-Three
Every Small Thing
Chapter Twenty-Four
Haystack Supper
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hummingbird Cake
Chapter Twenty-Six
Florida Vegetable Medley
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dandelion Salad
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Honey Orange Salad Dressing
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sausage Potato Soup
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Luscious Lemonade Pie
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
Wedding Cake
Ornamental Icing
About the Authors
About the Publisher
Gardening is a way of showing that you believe in tomorrow.
AMISH PROVERB
Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.
JOHN 12:24
I needed the quiet so He drew me aside,
Into the shadows where we could confide
Away from the bustle where all the day long
I hurried and worried when active and strong.
I needed the quiet though at first I rebelled,
But gently, so gently, my cross He upheld,
And whispered so sweetly of spiritual things.
Though weakened in body, my spirit took wings
To heights never dreamed of when active and gay.
He loved me so greatly He drew me away.
I needed the quiet. No prison my bed,
But a beautiful valley of blessings instead—
A place to grow richer in Jesus to hide.
I needed the quiet so He drew me aside.
ALICE HANSCHE MORTENSON
Prologue
Emma Sutter lifted the ice cream cone to her lips, took another lick, and licked her fingers too. It was chocolate, her favorite, and she wondered if Aenti Ruth Ann would let her have it every day. Sometimes things like that happened, mostly because she’d lost her momma. Even though it had been two years, Emma still got two scoops of ice cream when most other kids just got one. Two scoops was a lot for her only being eight years old, and sometimes her stomach hurt when she was through, but she didn’t want to tell Aenti Ruth Ann that.
Dat said that people wanted her to feel happy again, and sometimes she was. Sometimes ice cream did help… just not deep down where it hurt the most. Not in the hole inside that she was saving for a mother.
Emma took another lick and then glanced up at Aenti Ruth Ann to see if she noticed the drips trailing down her fingers. Thankfully, her aunt was too busy chatting with her friend near the front door of the pie shop. Too busy to notice how sticky Emma had become.
The sun was warm overhead—much hotter than it had been in Kentucky. She’d asked for ice cream instead of pie. She’d promised to eat it all, but now it was melting faster than she could lick.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and Emma turned. A pretty woman approached, tall and thin, with red hair. Not a bright orange-red, but a light red that looked almost golden in the sun. The woman had a nice smile too. She paused, pulled a wipe from a plastic package, and handed it to Emma. “I thought you could use this.”
“Danke.” Emma nodded and then quickly wiped her hand, glancing at her aunt from the corner of her eye. When she finished wiping, the woman took it back, holding it by the corner. It hung limply in her hand.
She handed Emma another clean wipe and pointed to her lips, making a wiping motion. “I always get two scoops at Big Olaf’s too, but I’ve learned to get them in a cup so I don’t end up with drippy hands and an ice cream mustache.” The woman laughed, and her eyes twinkled. “This Florida sun is twice as warm as the sun up north, don’t you th
ink?”
Emma wiped her mouth, and then she handed the wipe back. “Ja. Hotter than the hot side of a wood burning stove.” The woman smiled. Then, looking around, Emma saw the large pots of flowers near the front door of Me, Myself, and Pie. “Are you the gardener? What is your name?”
The woman tucked a strand of hair that had slipped from her kapp behind her ear.
“My name is Hope, and I guess you can call me a gardener, but I’ve personally given up my title.” Hope sighed, placed a hand on her hip, and looked at Emma. Hope didn’t have the sympathy in her eyes that Emma usually saw when people looked at her, and she liked that.
Emma took three quick licks. “Did you used to be a gardener?”
“Ja, I guess you can say that.”
“Do you wish you could be a gardener again?”
“I do. Very much.” Hope cocked an eyebrow. “You sure ask a lot of questions.”
Emma took another lick of her ice cream, but it was impossible to keep up. “If I had a garden I’d let you come and pull my weeds.”
Laughter spilled from the woman’s mouth, and Emma smiled. Seeing smiles was better than seeing tears.
“You would, would you?” Hope shook her head. “I’m not sure if I’d pull someone else’s weeds—it wouldn’t be fair to them. That’s part of the joy of gardening—seeing your hard work pay off in your own space. Standing back and noticing that what you did really mattered.”
Emma nodded, even though she didn’t understand what Hope was talking about. “My dat likes to work in the garden too. My mem used to… ” Emma let her voice trail off, remembering the she was in Pinecraft now. Remembering that people didn’t know her mother here. Remembering that she didn’t want to tell Hope what had happened to her mem, otherwise she’d look at her with sadness too.
The woman moved a few steps closer to the large pot of flowers. Two large, empty buckets sat there. Hope turned them over. She sat on one, and then she patted the other, motioning for Emma to join her. Emma looked to her aunt, took a few steps, and then did just that.
Hope reached into the pot and used two fingers to pull a small weed. “What does your dat like to plant?”
“Oh, just ’bout everything. Except beets. Says he hasn’t much use for those.”
The woman wrinkled her nose, and then she leaned close. “Don’t tell anyone, but I tend to agree.” She shrugged. “I’d still plant beets, though, if I had a garden again. It wouldn’t seem right if I didn’t. What good is a garden without beets, carrots, potatoes, corn, cabbage… ” Hope’s voice trailed off. She swallowed hard, as if something was stuck in there. Hope reached down and pulled up another weed, harder this time.
Emma leaned forward and looked more closely at Hope’s face. The twinkle in her eyes was gone. Hope still smiled, but her eyes weren’t smiling. It reminded Emma of all those days when Dat took her fishing or for a pony ride back on their farm. Even though he smiled she could tell he was really thinking about Mem. He still got that sad look, but not as much. And Emma wondered if this woman had lost someone too. She also decided she liked this woman. Liked her very much. Maybe this woman could be Dat’s friend since they had both lost someone.
“What is your last name?”
“Miller.” The woman turned to her, meeting her gaze. “Hope Miller.”
“I’m Emma. Emma Sutter.”
“And where do you live, Emma Sutter?”
Emma shrugged. “Here in Pinecraft now. My dat’s—”
“Emma, time to get going.” Her aunt’s voice interrupted. “I promised Hannah I’d make her lunch, and I’m afraid I’ve been chatting far too long.” Aenti Ruth Ann approached. She smiled at Emma, then tilted her head and looked at Hope. She also leaned forward a little, as if taking a closer look.
“Are you one of the Miller girls? One of the younger four?” Aenti Ruth Ann asked, obviously forgetting she’d just told Emma they had to leave.
“Ja, I’m Hope, the second oldest. My older sister Lovina opened the pie shop here.” Hope pointed. “And my younger sisters are Joy, Faith, and Grace. Grace is one of the new scribes in Pinecraft. Maybe—”
Aenti Ruth Ann cut off Hope’s words. “And Lovina will be married soon from what I hear?”
Hope pressed her lips together, and her eyes darted from the front door of the pie shop back to Emma’s aunt. “Well, nothing’s been published yet… ”
Aenti Ruth Ann fiddled with her kapp string, twisting it around her finger. It was what Emma’s aunt always did when she was thinking hard.
“And the rest of you are single?”
There was something in her aunt’s eyes that Emma hadn’t seen before. Interest? Curiosity? No, something different. It was the same look that her dat got when he was baiting his fishing hook. It was excitement over what he expected to come.
“Aenti Ruth Ann, Hope is a gardener. Hope likes ice cream too.” Emma lifted her cone. Her fingers were once again covered with drips.
“My, you have a big mess there.” Aenti Ruth Ann pointed at her cone. “Why don’t we throw the rest of that cone away and wash up, and I’ll share my pie after lunch?”
Emma nodded excitedly. Ice cream, pie, and a new friend all in the same day. A new friend Dat just had to meet. He needed someone to look at him, too, with eyes not filled with sadness.
Butter Pecan Ice Cream
2 envelopes Knox gelatin
½ cup cold water
4 cups whole milk
2 cups granulated sugar
2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. salt
3 cups heavy cream
1½ cups pecans, pieces or whole
1 cup butter
1 cup brown sugar
Soak gelatin in cold water. Heat milk till just before boiling. Remove from heat. Add gelatin, sugar, vanilla extract, and salt. Let cool. When cooled, stir in cream. Place in freezer.
In a saucepan, melt butter and heat nuts until crisp. Stir in brown sugar. Mix well. Add to ice cream once mixture has partially frozen.
Chapter One
When the outlook is not good, try the uplook.
AMISH PROVERB
Hope, can you scoot down a bit more? Faith has yet to find a place to sit,” Mem called to her.
Hope Miller forced a smile and scooted farther down the picnic table’s bench. Ten people were squeezed around the table already, and even though a cool breeze ruffled her kapp strings, the press of bodies nearly suffocated her.
She picked up her fork and attempted to scoop up another bite of sausage, sauerkraut, and creamy potatoes.
She’d heard the murmurs around the park that it was Becky Fisher’s sauerkraut recipe. The older woman had passed away, but thankfully her recipe continued. The food smelled good, but Lovina pressed so closely against Hope that she had no room to extend her elbow to get a scoop of food. Hope tried to adjust herself—lifting her arm a little—but it did no good. The people were too tightly packed around her.
Take a breath. Take a breath. You’re all right, she told herself.
The words did no good. The jumble of voices and press of bodies overwhelmed her. She put down the fork and placed her hand to her chest. Beneath her hand her heartbeat pounded through the thin cotton fabric of her dress and apron. From the corner of her eye she glimpsed Mose Yoder eyeing their table as if preparing to ask to squeeze in. Please no.
Even though she’d just started on her meal, Hope pushed her plate away. She needed space. She needed quiet. The hundreds of voices of Plain people attending the New Year’s fund-raising Supper at the Park swirled around her head. She didn’t have a garden to escape to—not here in Pinecraft—but she did have the park. Pinecraft Park was packed with people near the pavilion, but beyond that the green grass and canopy of lush trees beckoned her.
Hope straightened in her seat. “Excuse me, Lovina. Can I get out?”
Lovina turned to her and her dark eyes widened, filling with questions. “Is everything all right? You’re not coming down with something, a
re you?”
Hope forced her lips into a smile. “Me? Ne. I shouldn’t have eaten that piece of pie so close to the meal.”
Lovina cocked one eyebrow, and Hope knew her sister wasn’t buying it. The taste-testing of Lovina’s newest pie had been three hours ago, and Hope hadn’t eaten more than a sliver.
“Really now. It’s the pie that stole your appetite?”
“Ne.” Hope leaned close to Lovina’s ear, and then she lowered her voice. “It’s just that there are so many people. Everyone is talking at once. I just need some fresh air for a moment. I promise to be right back.”
Lovina nodded, and she then whispered something in Noah Yoder’s ear. The two had been inseparable ever since they’d worked together to remodel the old warehouse into a pie shop. Me, Myself, and Pie had been up and running nearly two months already, and it was doing better than anyone had expected.
Whatever Lovina said caused Noah to glance over and look at Hope with concern, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he slid off the end of the picnic table bench, making room for Lovina and Hope to stand.
“Danke.” Hope took a step back. “I’ll be right back, I promise. I’m just going to stroll down to the creek.”
Noah sidled up to Lovina, as close as they could be without touching. “Watch out for gators.” He grinned.
Hope nodded. “I will. Don’t worry now.” And without hesitation she moved away from the table.
No one else seemed to notice her leaving. Mem was busy in conversation, talking to her friend Regina who was still in town for the season. As they talked, they also eyed a group of bachelors who’d just arrived last week—no doubt attempting to choose ones for the remainder of Mem’s single daughters. Thankfully, Mem now approved of Noah Yoder. No, more than that, she acted as if he’d been her choice all along. But Mem still had four more daughters to worry about. She acted as if getting her daughters married was her only purpose in life.
Hope had heard Mem and Regina chatting over coffee this morning. They’d been talking about one of their neighbors, Hannah Wise. Not only had Hannah just been married eight months ago, but she was already expecting twins. As she spoke, Hope noted the longing in Mem’s voice. After all, most of her friends were grandmothers many times over now.
