A Dream of Home: Hearts of the Lancaster Grand Hotel: Book Three

by Amy Clipston

  Emma glanced back at Madeleine and then turned toward her father. “I told Maddie to talk to you about building new cabinets for her kitchen.” She pointed toward the counter. “She’s gotten some estimates, but I told her that you’re the best.”

  Saul’s expression softened a little. “I said it’s time to go.”

  “Ya, Dat.” Emma started to leave.

  “Emma, wait!” Madeleine said, causing Saul to glare at her. “Your chicken and dumplings are here.” She ignored Saul’s frown and went back into the kitchen to get the container she’d just filled.

  Saul walked into the kitchen behind her and took the container. “Danki,” he muttered. His eyes moved to the counter, and he stared at the pile of estimates. “Are these the estimates Emma was talking about?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked up at the cabinets and grimaced. “I see. These must be the originals from when this place was built.” He touched a door and opened and closed it. “You want to replace them?”

  “That’s the plan.” Madeleine crossed her arms over her hooded sweatshirt.

  “Is it all right if I look at the estimates?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged.

  He placed the container on the counter and began studying the paperwork.

  “I told Maddie you would give her a better price and do better work for her,” Emma said.

  “That’s true,” Saul said before looking up at Madeleine. “Do you know what you want your cabinets to look like?”

  “Yeah.” Madeleine pointed toward his house. “I want ones like you have in your kitchen. I love walnut, and I really like the simple design.”

  “My kitchen?” He turned toward Emma. “Madeleine was in our kitchen?”

  “She helped me bring the food to our haus on Monday.” Emma turned to Madeleine. “That reminds me. I need to return your dishes to you.”

  “There’s no rush.” Madeleine waved off the comment.

  Saul’s expression softened, and he seemed embarrassed. “Those were the first kitchen cabinets I made without mei daadi’s help. I had just gotten married, and I was starting my own business. They aren’t my best work.”

  Madeleine shook her head. “If those aren’t your best work, then I can’t imagine how amazing your cabinets really are. Those are exactly what I want.”

  “Really?” he asked. “Those are exactly what you want?”

  As he studied her, she took in his bottomless brown eyes. They were warm and comforting, like the hot chocolate she and her grandmother made when she was a child. She pushed the thought away and realized he was awaiting her response.

  “Yes,” she repeated. “Those are exactly what I want, but I’m certain I can’t afford you.”

  He blanched. “Why would you say that?”

  “I know Amish work is the best, and you get what you pay for.”

  Saul held up the medium price estimate. “I won’t charge you much more than this company.”

  “Really?” Madeleine was intrigued. She moved closer to him and looked down at the paper. She realized he was only a couple of inches taller than she was, and she estimated him to stand at just under six feet. “You can really keep your price in that range?”

  “Ya, I can.” He gestured toward his property. “Do you want to come over to my shop and talk about the design?”

  “Why don’t we eat first?” Emma suggested.

  Madeleine looked at Saul. “Would you like to eat here, and then we can talk about the cabinets?”

  He hesitated and then gave a quick nod. “Ya, that sounds gut.”

  “Great.” Madeleine looked at Emma. “Would you please set the table? I’ll warm up the chicken and dumplings.” She glanced at Saul. “You can go clean up if you’d like. The bathroom is down the hallway to the left.”

  “Danki.” Saul shucked his heavy coat and hung it on a peg just inside the mudroom before disappearing down the hallway.

  Madeleine hoped her taking Emma to the grocery store wouldn’t come up.

  Saul washed his hands in the bathroom and then stepped back into the hallway. He had visited this home dozens of times when Martha and Mel lived in it. After Mel passed away, Saul frequently stopped by to see if Martha needed any help. He’d taken care of minor household projects, such as fixing her leaking kitchen sink, and also major repairs, including repairing her roof. He was happy to assist her and wouldn’t take no for an answer when he asked her if she needed help.

  He took a step and stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, which looked nearly identical to how it had looked when Martha lived in the house. The same quilt was on the bed, and the walls were still bare except for a small mirror and a faded wreath. Why hadn’t Madeleine decorated it like the Englisher homes he’d visited while installing cabinets? Or was getting new cabinets the beginning of a plan to make the house more English?

  Then he peered into the spare room, which included a small desk, a chair, a rocking chair, and a pile of boxes with BOOKS written on them in black marker. Beside the rocking chair were a plastic drawer unit filled with yarn and what looked like a half-crocheted, pastel-colored blanket. He was surprised. Crocheting didn’t seem to fit with her English life.

  Saul moved to the kitchen where his daughter and Madeleine were still preparing the meal. Emma was folding napkins while Madeleine carried a pan of chicken and dumplings to the table.

  “I hope my dat likes this meal,” Emma said with her back to Saul. “I made it once before, but I think I cooked it too long.”

  “I think he’ll enjoy it.” Madeleine turned toward Saul and gasped. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Her cheeks blushed a light pink. “You can have a seat anywhere you’d like. What would you like to drink, Saul?”

  “Water is fine. Danki.” Saul sat at the head of the table and folded his hands in his lap.

  “I’ll get drinks.” Emma scurried over to the cabinet for glasses and began preparing the drinks. “Do we have anything for dessert, Maddie?”

  “Oh.” Madeleine rested her hand on her hip while considering the question. “I believe I have some ice cream.” She glanced at Saul. “Do you like vanilla fudge ice cream?”

  He nodded. “That would be fine.”

  “Great.” Madeleine examined the table. “I think we’re all set. Let me help you with that.” She rushed over to Emma and took two glasses of water from her.

  She set one next to Saul and smiled at him. He suddenly realized that she had a beautiful smile that caused her dark eyes to sparkle in the natural, late afternoon light flooding the kitchen. He nodded and quickly looked down at the glass.

  Madeleine sat to his right and Emma was at his left. After a quick silent prayer, they began to eat.

  “What do you think, Dat?” Emma asked after Saul had taken his first bite of chicken and dumplings.

  He wiped a napkin across his beard and nodded. “It’s fantastic.”

  “Yay!” Emma clapped her hands. “He likes it, Maddie.”

  Madeleine smiled at Emma, and Saul was stunned by the love in her expression as she looked at his daughter.

  “I told you he’d like it. You worry too much, Emma.” Madeleine filled her plate. “You’re a very good cook. You don’t need my help.”

  “Ya, I do,” Emma said.

  “Why?” Madeleine’s expression became facetious. “You need me to buy the groceries, right?”

  “No, I need you to reach the spices that are high in the cabinet.” Emma giggled.

  Madeleine feigned a gasp, and Saul couldn’t stop his own chuckle.

  “What are we going to make next?” Emma asked. “Have you ever made a ham loaf?” She glanced at Saul. “That’s one of my dat’s favorites.”

  “No, I haven’t made a ham loaf.” Madeleine turned toward Saul. “We’ll have to see if your dat will allow us to try to make one together.” She seemed to be awaiting his approval, and he felt obligated to agree.

  “Perhaps we can choose a night for that,” he said, and Emma smiled.

/>   Not only was supper delicious, but Saul couldn’t get over how Madeleine interacted with Emma. They discussed recipes like old friends. They laughed and talked about everything from barn cats to gardening. His daughter had bonded with the Englisher, and it sent conflicting emotions swirling through him. He was amazed at how happy his daughter was, but he also was still concerned about Madeleine’s influence.

  After supper, Emma and Madeleine cleaned up the kitchen while Saul drank a cup of coffee he’d allowed his hostess to make. He sat at the table, still marveling at how well the two got along.

  “Madeleine,” he said once most of the dishes were clean, “would you like to look at cabinet samples in my showroom? I have a catalog and some sample cabinets in the smaller shop near my haus.”

  Madeleine nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

  “All right.” He started for the door.

  “I’ll finish up,” Emma offered. “We just have these utensils and pots left. You and Dat can go to the shop. I’ll probably be home before you will, Dat.”

  “Are you sure?” Madeleine asked while scrubbing the first pot.

  “I can do it,” Emma insisted.

  “All right.” Madeleine dried her hands on a towel. “Just leave everything else in the drain board. I can put them away when I get home.” She moved to the mudroom and pulled on her coat, grabbing a flashlight as well. “Thank you, Emma,” she called back.

  Saul held the door open for Madeleine, and she stepped out onto the porch. “Danki for supper,” he said as they walked side by side down the porch steps. The setting sun sent bursts of oranges, purples, reds, and yellows across the sky, and the cold air tickled his nose.

  “Gern gschehne,” she said.

  He glanced at her. “You really do speak Dietsch.”

  “Ya, I do. Is that so difficult to believe?” She gave him a slight smile as they made their way down the rock driveway toward his shop, their shoes crunching against the stones.

  “No, it’s not difficult to believe,” he explained. “It just seems ironic for an Englisher to speak Dietsch that well.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she teased. “I’m glad you liked supper. I think cooking for you makes Emma happy.”

  He nodded. “She is eager to please.”

  “I think she likes to see you smile.”

  Her comment caught him off guard, and the words hit him square in his heart. Talking about his daughter always touched him deeply. Speechless, he kept walking toward the shop.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Madeleine asked.

  “No,” he said. They approached the showroom, and he wrenched the door open. “It’s going to be cold in there.”

  “I’m not afraid of the cold,” she quipped. “I served in Afghanistan with some challenging conditions.”

  He nodded while studying her young face in the remaining light of the day. How could a sweet young lady like her serve in the military and go to a place where war had been raging for years? She was brave to travel so far without family to protect her. Madeleine was more than she seemed. In fact, she was a mystery. He was certain he had a lot to learn about his neighbor.

  “Let me turn the lanterns on.” He slipped past her and flipped on the four lanterns located around the shop before picking up a copy of the full-color catalog he’d had designed by a local print shop. He placed it on the workbench closest to the door for her to study. “These are my most popular designs.” He pointed toward the wall. “There are more samples there.”

  Madeleine stood beside him and flipped through the catalog. Her arm brushed his, and he instinctively took a step back. He glanced at her face and was struck by how her hair had a slightly reddish tint in the low light of the lanterns. Her eyes also seemed a lighter shade of brown, resembling milk chocolate.

  He quickly looked away. Why would he admire an Englisher? Madeleine Miller was only a neighbor, an acquaintance. He was falling into the trap of believing Amish and Englishers could be friends. Their lives were too different for that, and he needed to remind Emma to keep her distance. He’d enjoyed their supper, and Emma obviously liked Madeleine, but it was still a mistake to let Emma get so close to this woman.

  “I don’t know,” Madeleine said, wrenching him from his mental tirade. “These are all gorgeous, but I still like the cabinets in your kitchen the best.” She closed the catalog. “Would you design something simple for me, like those?”

  Saul rubbed his beard. “Are you certain that’s what you want? Those are very plain.”

  “That’s what I like, and I think that’s what my mammi would’ve liked. She kept her life simple and plain, and I want to do something that would have made her froh.”

  He studied her, fascinated by her love and respect for her grandmother. “All right. I can do something like that. Are you certain you want walnut?”

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Walnut is dark. Would you rather go with something lighter?” He crossed to the opposite side of the shop and began lifting wood samples. “Would you prefer a light walnut or maybe an oak?”

  “Oh wow.” She studied the samples. “I don’t know.” She ran her hand over the boards and then looked up at him. “What do you think? You’re the expert.”

  “It’s your kitchen. Whatever you want would be fine with me.”

  She smiled. “I still like your cabinets the best.”

  “Okay.” He pulled out an order form. “What kind of countertop would you like?”

  She grinned. “I already told you. I like what you have in your kitchen.”

  “Fine.” He wrote down her name and address on the top of the form. “I can have an estimate to you in a week or so.”

  “When do you think you can start on my cabinets?”

  “A few days after that. I’m finishing up a job now. I’ll just have to coordinate with my plumber, but it shouldn’t be a problem. Does that sound okay?”

  “It’s perfect. Danki.” She shivered.

  “You should go back home and get warm.” He placed the form on the workbench. “I’ll come see you in a few days and take measurements.”

  “Sounds great.” She hugged her arms to her chest. “I’m excited.”

  He extinguished the lanterns, picked up another to light their way, and followed her out of the shop. After locking the door, he faced her. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Great.” She glanced toward her house and then looked back at Saul. “I had fun tonight. Thank you for sharing Emma with me.”

  For the second time that evening, her words tugged at his heart. “Gern gschehne.”

  “Gut nacht, Saul,” she said.

  “Gut nacht.” He watched her start down the road with her flashlight shining in front of her, and he suddenly wondered what to call her. “Wait.”

  She spun and faced him, her pretty face filled with curiosity.

  “I don’t know what to call you,” he said.

  “I don’t understand.” She took a step toward him.

  “Mei dochder calls you Maddie, but your name is Madeleine,” he explained. “What should I call you?”

  “My friends call me Maddie,” she said. “You can call me Maddie.”

  “Gut nacht, Maddie.” He said the words and couldn’t help but think that the nickname fit her. She was the most complex Englisher he’d ever met.

  Madeleine continued down the driveway, turning back once to wave at him. He waved back at her. Would she be a constant in his and Emma’s life, or would she stay long enough to get to know them and then leave again? For a split second, he hoped she would stay, but thoughts like that were dangerous. She was only a neighbor who wanted him to design and build new cabinets for her. She would never be any more than an English customer. They could not—he could not—get too close.

  THIRTEEN

  Trey steered his BMW down a winding road. He had finished all the errands he’d planned to run today. At least, he’d crossed everything off his list that he’d told Hannah he’d do t
oday, but he still had one stop he wanted to make. It was an errand he had pondered ever since he’d attended Joshua Glick and Carolyn Lapp’s wedding. Something he had to do for his lovely wife.

  He drove down another road, passing beautiful Amish farms on either side. The one-room schoolhouse came into view, and he slowed to a stop. Lillian stood by the doorway and waved as a line of children rushed out of the school, talking and laughing as they made their way down the steps and toward their homes. Another young lady, whom he assumed was Lillian’s assistant, also waved and smiled as the children left.

  Trey had spent two weeks considering what he would say to Lillian if he had a chance to talk to her alone. Now that moment was finally here. He had to find a way to make Lillian understand that Hannah still loved her and wanted—needed—her to be a part of her life.

  He waited until it looked like the last child had left the building before climbing from the car and making his way toward the school. Lillian and her assistant had disappeared inside, and as he approached, the other young lady reappeared on the front steps.

  When she saw him, her eyes widened with panic. “May I help you?”

  “Hi.” Trey stopped before he reached the bottom step. “I was looking for Lillian Glick.”

  “Just a minute.” The girl stepped back into the school, and he heard her call Lillian. She then returned to the top step and fiddled with the ties on her prayer covering. “She’ll be right here.”

  “Thanks.” Trey cleared his throat and leaned against the railing while he waited for his stepdaughter. The young lady studied him with a suspicious expression.

  “Trey?” Lillian asked when she came through the door. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes widened as she looked down at him. “Did something happen to my sister?”

  “No.” Trey shook his head. “Your sister, your brother, and your mother are fine.”

  “Oh. Praise God. You scared me.” Lillian rested her hand on her chest. “Then why are you here?”

  “I’d like to talk to you.” Her expression hardened, but he pressed on. “Please, Lily. Let me take you out for a cup of coffee or something.”