Seasons in Paradise

by Cameron, Barbara;

  She didn’t know if this was leading anywhere, but that was fine. Maybe she’d decided Sam wasn’t the one God had set aside for her and looked in another direction—Ben—and shouldn’t have. Time would tell.

  Sleep was a long time coming. The moon shone full tonight, lighting the room, but she didn’t want to get up and draw the shades. Instead, she lay there looking at the daisy sitting in a little dollar-store vase on her bedside table. And when she finally slept, she dreamed of Sam and picking blackberries on a bright sum-mer day.

  The next day she found herself distracted as she sat in the sewing room and tried to work.

  Usually sewing relaxed her, even when she had a lot of it to do on a deadline for Leah. Which was most of the time. Christmas orders were continuing to come in, stronger than usual, perhaps because the Englisch stores in town had recently run Christmas in July promotions. But her mind kept wandering, and she felt restless. All she could think about was the shop open house. And seeing Sam there.

  “It’s about time to leave, isn’t it?” her mudder asked. “Rose Anna went to her room to primp half an hour ago.”

  Mary Elizabeth smiled as she set aside her quilt. “Are you saying I should have done that?”

  She chuckled. “Nee, Rose Anna loves to primp. No one spends as much time doing it as she does. Lavina and you never have done as much.”

  But today, maybe she should, she thought, pulling her favorite church dress, a blue one, from the closet and changing. She smoothed her hair and pinned on her best kapp and slipped on her best Sunday shoes. And then, she looked at the daisy and plucked a petal. He loves me.

  Her dat had hitched their horse to the buggy and had it waiting in the driveway. “What will I do without you this afternoon?” he asked, looking at his fraa.

  “Work, like you’d do if I was here,” she responded tartly, but she was smiling as he helped her into the buggy. “Oh, I almost forgot. I left cold chicken salad for sandwiches in the refrigerator, and there’s leftover blackberry cobbler for you and Abe.”

  “We’ll manage,” he said with a grin.

  “I’ll bring you a treat from town.”

  “No need,” he said as she picked up the reins. “Just bring yourself back home. Drive safe.”

  “What about us?” Rose Anna wanted to know.

  He winked at her. “You two also. Have fun and drive safe.”

  “It’s not us who don’t,” Rose Anna said. “We watch out for cars more than they do for us.”

  “Ya. So drive safe,” he said again.

  Mary Elizabeth watched him set his straw hat on his head and start off toward his beloved fields. Her mudder drove the buggy in the direction of David and Lavina’s farm.

  The seasons were so visible here. Farmers were gathering the last of their crops, and women were harvesting their kitchen gardens. Soon there would be bare fields and haystacks—the real ones—and pumpkins and other fall vegetables and fruits sold in the roadside farm stands.

  Right now, they made so many things with the always bumper crop of zucchini: zucchini bread and muffins and casserole with cheese and bread cubes and even zucchini cake. Her dat had peered suspiciously at a piece of chocolate cake just the other night and inquired as to whether it had zucchini in it. Her mudder had retorted that he didn’t taste it in half the things she made them so hush. But as usual she’d had a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes.

  Soon everything would be made of pumpkin and butternut squash. The Englisch coffee shop in town did a brisk business in pumpkin coffee in the fall. Mary Elizabeth had been doubtful it was gut until she tried it herself.

  They picked up Lavina, and Rose Anna gave up her passenger seat in front without complaint.

  “How are you feeling?” Linda asked her as Lavina smoothed her dress over her abdomen.

  “Wunderbaar since the morning sickness passed. But now I’m hungry all the time.” She pulled a plastic bag of apple slices from her purse and offered them to everyone. “I’m trying to stick with fruit between meals.”

  Rose Anna sighed as they rode. “It’s so nice to take a day away from kitchen duty. I think we’ve canned twice what we did last year.”

  “You always say that,” Lavina said, turning to look at her.

  Rose Anna pouted. “Well, it feels like it.”

  “We’ll be grateful for our bounty when winter gets here and there are no fresh vegetables and fruit.”

  “You always say that,” they chorused and laughter filled the buggy.

  There’d been little laughter in Sam’s house, Mary Elizabeth couldn’t help thinking. He’d told her about the fights he and his bruders had at home. That’s why he had enjoyed being invited to supper at their house so often, just as his bruders David and John had. She’d seen the way Sam behaved last night, seen him staring at each of them, felt that he lingered over the checkerboard for so many games with her grossdaadi before he left. He couldn’t hide the emotions from a face she knew so well. There had been contentment, peace, a sense of belonging . . . and yearning on it, carefully masked and yet visible to her when he caught her watching.

  His red truck wasn’t in the parking lot behind the shop when they arrived. She told herself she shouldn’t have expected it when he was undoubtedly working.

  The shop was filled with friends and shoppers who were a mixture of Amish and Englisch. Carrie manned the cash register with some help from Rachel Ann, who worked in Stitches in Time as well as the bakery and had volunteered that afternoon. Mary Elizabeth had seen such a change in Carrie during the time she’d been at the shelter. Carrie had worn bruises on her face and thought the whole idea of a quilting class wasn’t worth her time. Kate had been patient with her, and gradually Carrie had come around.

  And something Carrie had said had in a way led to the shop. What good would it be to know how to sew quilts, she’d demanded. People wouldn’t want to buy a quilt made by an Englischer. Tourists would only buy quilts made by the Amish here. That had led Kate to thinking of other things they could sew and to a conversation with Leah . . . and so had begun the seed that became Sewn in Hope.

  Now the old-fashioned cash register rang merrily with sales, and Carrie beamed as she worked the first job she’d had in months since she arrived at the shelter bruised and without hope.

  Mary Elizabeth tried not to watch the door for Sam as she mingled, but she caught Rose Anna’s teasing smirk and realized she wasn’t doing a good job of hiding her attention to it.

  She wandered over to the table of coffee and tea that had been set out. Choosing between a snickerdoodle and a miniature cinnamon bun became a big decision. She’d just picked up a little bun when the bell over the shop rang and she turned to see who’d walked in.

  And saw Sam.

  * * *

  Sam figured there was no way Mary Elizabeth would be in the new shop when he walked in with Peter after four-thirty.

  But there she was, standing near the refreshment table and looking cool and pretty on one of the last days of a hot summer. It wouldn’t do for him to walk right over to her—there were too many members of the Amish community here, and nothing was faster than the Amish grapevine. After all, he knew she’d been seeing Ben and even though dating was kept very private, some people might have paired them.

  For all he knew, she didn’t care that he was sorry he’d walked away from what they’d had as he said the night he’d had supper at her house. It was possible the next time they talked she’d say too bad, you had your chance.

  But he didn’t think he was wrong about the way she looked at him now . . . as if she was happy to see him.

  Could it be he’d get a second chance?

  So he strolled around, greeting Leah and Kate and Carrie, the Englisch woman who’d been hired to work at the store.

  Then casually, ever so casually, he found Linda and Rose Anna and greeted them and stood making small talk about the work he and Peter had done on the shop before making his way to Mary Elizabeth.

  Ju
dging by the wink Rose Anna gave him as he left them, he realized he probably hadn’t fooled mother or daughter.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you today,” he said, trying to look casual as he helped himself to a cup of some pinkish punch and a cookie. “I thought you’d come earlier.”

  “We were about to leave,” she said. “Mamm wants to fix supper and make sure Grossdaadi ate today while we were gone. Sometimes Daed gets busy in the field, and if she’s not there to call Grossdaadi, he ends up forgetting to since Grossmudder passed on.”

  She frowned. “I know she’s worried about him. Grossdaadi, not Daed. The doctor warned her that sometimes when one half of a couple that’s been married a long time dies the other—” she stopped, unable to finish.

  He wanted to touch her hand, to reassure her, but an unmarried man wasn’t supposed to do that with an unmarried woman.

  “He seems to be handling it well, doesn’t he? I know I haven’t been around him but those few hours the other night, but he didn’t seem overly sad or depressed.”

  “Nee, you’re right. Still, we worry.” She eyed him. “So how’s the punch?”

  “Have you tried it?”

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t. I think it’s got some grapefruit juice in it.” He glanced around to see if anyone was watching and dumped the cup in a trash can.

  “How’s the cookie?” she asked when he took a bite, chewed, then got a funny look on his face.

  “Did you make it?”

  “Rose Anna did.”

  “Anybody looking?”

  She glanced around. “Nee.”

  He took a paper napkin and swiftly disposed of the bite in his mouth. “Reminds me of some of Jenny Bontrager’s early efforts cooking and baking.”

  “Hi, Jenny!” Mary Elizabeth said, looking over his shoulder.

  He froze, then glanced behind him. Jenny was nowhere in sight.

  “Very funny.”

  She grinned. “You should have seen your face.”

  Peter joined them, so Rose Anna wasn’t far behind. “Is this guy hogging all the cookies?” he asked her.

  “There’s still some left for you.”

  “I made the snickerdoodles,” Rose Anna said, proudly holding out the plate. “Snickerdoodles are my specialty.”

  He reached for one immediately. “Mmm,” he said appreciatively after he’d taken a bite. “Sam, we need to get going if we’re to meet—”

  “I’m ready when you are,” Sam said, frowning at him.

  “Then let’s go. Nice to see you, Mary Elizabeth. See you Sunday, Rose Anna.” He picked up a cookie to go, then a second, giving Rose Anna a grin.

  * * *

  Mary Elizabeth watched Sam leave the shop with Peter.

  That was odd. It seemed like Sam hadn’t wanted Peter to say who they were going to meet. She shrugged. Men weren’t the easiest creatures to understand sometimes. Except about food. They always wanted food and lots of it and often weren’t that particular about it.

  Take for example Rose Anna’s snickerdoodles. Mary Elizabeth hadn’t needed to try her schweschder’s latest attempt after seeing Sam’s reaction.

  For Peter to eat one and take another was a sure sign he was as infatuated with her as she was with him.

  Kate wandered over and checked out the cookies. “Did you make them?”

  “Rose Anna.”

  Kate shrugged philosophically and picked up one. “Can’t be any worse than mine.”

  “No?”

  She bit into one. “Uh, I was wrong.”

  Mary Elizabeth handed her a paper napkin. “Sam spit his out. No one’s looking.”

  Kate disposed of the cookie. “What about the punch?”

  “Sam said it tastes like it has grapefruit juice in it.”

  “Oh, I happen to like grapefruit juice.” She helped herself to a cup and stood sipping it. “Nice turnout.” She studied Carrie. “Never saw her so happy. And she’s so good with the customers.” She sighed. “In my line of work you can get cynical about people, but I had a feeling she’d pull herself out of the abuse cycle. It’s early days still, but I think she’ll be okay.”

  Neither of them had to say it helped that the man Carrie had been involved with was in jail, so there was no way she could go back to him even if she wanted to.

  “Well, I guess I should be heading home.” Kate cast a longing glance at the Stitches in Time shop visible through the entranceway between the shops. “Malcolm bet me I couldn’t come home without new fabric and I’m not letting him win this one.”

  Mary Elizabeth took a second look. “Maybe I’ll browse in there for both of us. We can always use new fabric for the quilting classes.”

  Kate grinned. “I like the way you think. See you later.”

  She and her mudder and schweschders left not long after Kate did.

  A few blocks from the turn-off to their road, Rose Anna leaned to look out her window. “Say, isn’t that Sam’s truck?”

  It was red and it looked like it, but Mary Elizabeth couldn’t be sure. She craned her neck to get a better look, but it didn’t help.

  “It might be. Maybe he and Peter are looking at a home they’re renovating for someone.”

  All the way home, she wondered when she would see him again.

  14

  A week passed before she saw Sam again.

  Mary Elizabeth wasn’t sitting around waiting for his call. To do that she’d have to sit out in the hot phone shanty and not get anything accomplished. This was the busiest time of the year on an Amish farm. She had too much to do helping her mudder and Lavina with harvesting the kitchen garden and canning and preserving, and many orders were pouring in for quilts Leah’s customers wanted for Christmas gifts.

  And she had to find time to talk to Ben. She had a feeling it might not be pleasant. He hadn’t been happy when she’d last seen him, complaining that they didn’t get enough time together.

  “It’s Sam, isn’t it?” he said, sounding bitter when he came by the house and sat on the porch with her to talk. “I knew you were seeing him, too.”

  “I haven’t been seeing him,” she said patiently. “Sam left our community and lives in town.”

  “I saw his truck here one evening last week.”

  A chill ran down her spine. Was he watching her house? She knew someone who’d been stalked by a man. It didn’t happen often, but it wasn’t unheard of. Maybe it was a gut thing she’d asked him to stop by and was sitting here on the porch with him. Her dat could be seen in the distance working in his fields, and her mudder was inside the house.

  “My grossdaadi wanted to play checkers with him,” she told him. “So he came to supper and played checkers with him.” Then she told herself she didn’t have to explain. “I just don’t think you and I are well suited.”

  His eyes were hard as he tapped his fingers on his knee. “There are other maedels interested in me, you know.”

  In a way, she’d hoped he’d lost interest in her when they had trouble finding time to see each other and found someone else. She’d seen those maedels he mentioned at church.

  “I know. I think you’ll be much happier with someone else.”

  He got to his feet and slapped his straw hat on his head. “I was going to ask you to marry me.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. Truly I am.”

  “You’re the one who’ll be sorry. I’ll be married as soon as harvest is over, and you’ll be sitting here pining for a man who has nothing.”

  He stomped off the porch and got into his buggy, calling angrily to his half-dozing horse so that it started abruptly and pulled onto the road. Fortunately, there weren’t other vehicles on the road.

  She’d been hurt by things not working out with Sam, so she certainly understood Ben’s disappointment. Well, he didn’t seem so much disappointed as angry, but certainly she knew that emotion as well. She wasn’t proud of how angry she’d been with Sam and how she’d let him know it. It had cleared the air, though, and
they seemed like they could at least be friends. She didn’t think Ben wanted to be friends with her. At least not for some time.

  Before she went back into the house and picked up her work she walked around the side of the house to the phone shanty. She checked the answering machine in the airless little addition to the house, and there was a message from Sam saying he’d stop by after work.

  Neither of them owned a cell phone. Many Amish did in Lancaster County; the bishop here allowed their use for business calls. The income of many Amish depended upon business, often tourism, far more than in other Amish communities where farming was still the prime source of income. Mary Elizabeth didn’t want a cell phone because she didn’t feel the need for it or want the expense. She went back inside and gave her mudder a message from a friend and told her Sam might drop by for supper.

  But when he arrived he asked if they could go for a drive, and she accepted. She let her mudder know she’d be gone for a while with Sam and climbed into his truck. It still felt strange to be in such a vehicle after years of riding in a buggy.

  “Do you want me to turn on the a/c?”

  “A/c? Oh, air conditioning. Nee, there’s a nice breeze coming in the window.”

  “Good. Saves on mileage. Gas isn’t cheap.”

  “More than oats?” she teased.

  “Yes.”

  “Hungry?”

  “A little. We could eat supper at the house.”

  He shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you. What would you like?”

  “How about a sub?” She knew from the direction he was driving that they were coming up on a little store that sold them.

  “I can do better than that.”

  “You can’t do better than their subs. And they always fill you up.”

  He pulled into the parking lot. “You want your usual?”

  She nodded, and he went inside for them. While she waited in the truck, she enjoyed looking at trees around the store. Nights were getting cooler and leaves were starting to change color. Fall was her favorite time of the year.