A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  “So you put a new spin on it.” Dakota cocked her head, the gold streaks in her hair catching the light. “You’ll think of something. But I’m getting hungry. Let’s grab the rest of our ingredients and run so I can get this on the stove. All the flavors need time to intermingle.” As Dakota sorted through the satchel, taking inventory of their groceries, Remy was reminded of the good times they had shared in college, along with Kiara, pooling resources and talents in their New York apartment. Having Dakota here for the weekend was like a trip back in time to their college home.

  “We’ll probably need a forklift to get this stuff to your apartment, but we’re not done yet. I’m going to get some almonds for the stew, while you head over and pick up some homemade cheese to go with the Tuscan bread.” Dakota hitched the handle of the tote bag up on her shoulder. “See if you can get cheddar or Havarti. Dairy is thataway.” She pointed past the flower stand.

  “Got it. I’ll meet you back by the roses.” Remy dodged the wide berth of a double stroller and headed toward the aisle of refrigerated cases, where signs boasted of homemade ice cream, farm-fresh milk, and handmade cheeses from the King Family Dairy.

  The King family? Her radar flared. King was among the most common Amish names in Lancaster County, but still …

  A handful of people were lined up along the cheese stand, where an Amish man and woman waited on customers. She shot a quick glance at the man, but he was short and solidly built, with dark glasses; definitely not Adam.

  Shaking off disappointment, Remy moved forward to look over the selections of orange and white cheeses behind the glass.

  She recognized the cheddars, but Havarti? There were half a dozen varieties; choices beyond her expectations. She stared at the rectangular prisms and wheels of cheese as the young woman leaned into the case, her hair tucked neatly into a starched white bonnet.

  “Did you have a question?” The voice came from behind her.

  An Amish man was her first thought as she turned and fell under the spell of penetrating dark eyes and a face engraved in her memory.

  Her heart skipped a beat as the improbable suddenly became reality. It was him. Adam King.

  “I could help you with the cheeses.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as she dared to face him. Under the brim of that black hat his dark eyes, soft but alert, had a warming effect.

  “Oh. Hi.” She struggled to diffuse the intense buzz of energy in the air between them, struggled not to stare at him. His face—clean-shaven, thank the Lord—was still a handsome blend of sharp angles and smooth jawline.

  She forced herself to breathe, hoped that he would not hear the nervous tension in her voice as she said, “Not to sound weird, but have we met before?”

  He touched his chin, his dark eyes level and cool. “I was thinking the same thing. You remind me of a girl I met on a train last year.”

  “That’s it!” She snapped her fingers and grinned. “Amtrak to Philly. We were both headed home. You’re Adam King, right?”

  He nodded. “How are you, Remy?”

  “You remembered my name.…” Something about that warmed her. Really, with all the people he had encountered in the past year, to have remembered her … “That’s amazing.”

  “Well, you remembered mine.”

  “Your name was in the newspaper. It was on every channel.” She almost regretted the words the minute they were out, but there was no getting around the horrible tragedy he’d returned home to.

  “It was. But you made an impression.” He moved behind the counter to replace the plastic carton on a stack. When he stepped out again he seemed taller than she remembered, with the strength of a man who was no stranger to hard work. “I don’t meet many girls with hair that color. Like a bright copper penny.”

  Self-consciously, she grabbed at the curls springing over one shoulder. As a kid, she’d hated being teased about her hair, but coming from Adam, the comment seemed like a compliment.

  “You made quite an impression, too,” she admitted. “Though I felt awful when I learned the details about your parents. When you walked off the train that night I had no idea just how terrible …” She shook her head. “I couldn’t imagine what you were going through. You know, I really worried about you. I prayed for you and your family … that you’d heal.”

  “Thank you.” He stared at her lips, as if watching words form there. “That was very kind of you.”

  “How is everything going?” She glanced toward the sign over the cheese stand. “The King Family Dairy … so these are your products? Is that your brother at the register?”

  “My cousin. Market Joe, we call him. He’s in charge of sales here. The family pools resources so that we can bring our products to various markets.”

  “And your siblings? You said you had ten brothers and sisters. How’s everyone doing? Are they here with you?”

  “Not today, but they are doing well. They move ahead with each day, trying to follow God’s plan for them. It’s been difficult at times, especially for the younger ones, but they have faith and they’re surrounded by love. Plenty of love.”

  He made it sound so simple, she thought. As if love was the magic cure for a broken heart, a broken life. To have lost their parents in such a violent way, those children had suffered major trauma. Had they gotten professional help?

  Adam, too. She couldn’t imagine how hard this year must’ve been for him. “Well, you look like you’re doing well.” He looked healthy and solid in a dark, American Gothic way, but she didn’t want to gush.

  “I’m grateful for all the good things in my life. Blessings, big and small,” he said. “And how about you? You were coming home to live with your father, right?”

  His eyes, when they caught hers, took her breath away. “I was,” she managed. “But I’m not living with Herb anymore. Long story. Sort of boring. Bottom line, he has a new family that really doesn’t include me. But I’m doing okay. I’m happy to have a job and my own place and …” She was babbling; she knew she was babbling, and she had to stop herself before she revealed the bare truth. I have an empty apartment, an empty life, an empty heart. Funny how it would be easier to make that admission to a near stranger like Adam than to a close friend.

  “But you’re still not overjoyed to be in Philadelphia,” he said.

  So … he remembered how she’d felt that day on the train. Remy had no quick answer, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he could extract her current attitude from the past two minutes. “I haven’t found what I was looking for here. My job, the work, it keeps me busy, but—”

  She was interrupted by Dakota, who trundled over with grocery bags in both hands. “Time to make the stew, sweetie,” she called, not realizing Remy was engaged in conversation. “You ready?”

  “Dakota …” Remy took one of the shopping bags from her friend. “This is Adam. We met last year, sort of by accident. And this is my friend Dakota.” Remy’s free hand balled into a fist as she watched Dakota take in the situation and hoped that her friend wouldn’t reveal that Remy had talked about her meeting with Adam for months last year.

  Dakota’s hazel eyes went wide as she gave Remy a look that clearly said, “I get it.” She turned to Adam. “Nice to meet you. Are you part of the King cheese dynasty?”

  He laughed. “Dynasty? That’s not us. But our family has been running dairy farms for many generations.”

  Cheese … suddenly Remy remembered her mission. “So, Adam, what kind of Havarti do you recommend?”

  “Well, it depends on what you’re looking for.” He shifted from one foot to the other, and she was struck by the width of his shoulders and broad back. In her memory he’d been a smaller man, but perhaps that was because he’d been huddled under a wool cap and baggy shirt when she’d met him, hiding from the world. “Havarti is a creamy, semisoft cheese. Everyone seems to like the plain cream, but there’s dill or caraway if you like those flavors.”

  Remy and Dakota decided on the plain cream Hava
rti, and Adam kindly ushered them to the side so that he could handle the transaction himself. As she watched him wrap the cheese in paper, Remy wondered if he worked the market every day. In a surge of courage, she asked him.

  “I’m here every few weeks,” he explained. “My cousin Joe and his wife handle the sales here. The rest of us alternate delivery duties, as we’ve all got responsibilities on our farms.”

  When he handed her the wrapped package, Remy held out a ten-dollar bill. But Adam shook his head. “Consider it a gift. I never got a chance to thank you for feeding me on that train ride.”

  “I seem to remember some hot cocoa. Really, what do I owe you?”

  “Take it, please.” He dropped it into the canvas bag at her feet. “We don’t always understand what God has in store for us, but even through our sadness, He is in control.”

  She squinted at him. “Are you saying God wants me to have that cheese?”

  He laughed. “I didn’t say that, but I do.”

  She smiled and looked down at the cheese, realizing that it was time to go, though she wanted to stay. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed talking with a guy her age. The air between them was both easy and intense, like the undertow of an ocean that pushed and pulled at the same time. If only she could stay in the water awhile longer.

  “Well, thank you,” she said, trying to be gracious. “We appreciate it.”

  He nodded, the slow burn in his eyes steady and intense. “Have a good evening.”

  “Thanks! You, too!” Dakota called, waggling her fingers as they headed off.

  It was difficult to move away from him, as if they were stepping from a halo of light into darkness. “Did you notice his eyes?” Remy asked, steeling herself to keep from looking back at him.

  “His eyes?” Dakota let out a snort. “Honey, I could barely see with the glare off that dazzling puffy heart around the two of you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s obvious that he likes you, and you like him.”

  “You mean, like like?”

  “To put it in fifth-grade terminology, yeah. Uh-huh.”

  “Really?” Remy hitched the canvas bag higher on her shoulder, bolstered by her friend’s observation.

  “Definitely. If he wasn’t Amish, I’d be picking out my bridesmaid dress right now.”

  If he wasn’t Amish …

  Dakota’s words were a cold wind of reality blowing through her daydream paradise. They lived in different worlds. Adam King was not going to be her boyfriend, no matter how she felt about him.

  But wading through the disappointment, she wondered if he could be her friend. There was no denying the connection between them. In the two times they’d met, she and Adam had shared some very personal thoughts and feelings, and she liked his attitude of respect and caring. This was a guy she could trust.

  My Amish friend …

  Remy felt warmed, knowing he was out there, knowing he cared even a little bit for her.

  My friend. It was enough. More than enough.

  FIVE

  rawing her shawl closer for warmth, Mary gazed back at the roaring bonfire as Five clicked his tongue and the horse drew the buggy away from the gathering. Groups of young Amish men and women sat on benches and blankets around the fire, sipping hot chocolate and singing fast songs. Their high-pitched young voices carried merriment into the stillness of night.

  A joyous event, and now a buggy ride beside the one person who made her feel alive and special and loved. On nights like this her heart danced with expectation and happiness—the sheer joy of being beside this solid young man, whom she’d known since they both were children. If only they could be together, just the two of them, more than once every two weeks.

  Reins in one hand, Five stretched his arms wide and took a deep breath. “Such a beautiful night.”

  “Who calls it a beautiful night in the deep freeze of January?” Although Mary teased her beau, she secretly appreciated his never-ending enthusiasm. Five could make a thunderstorm into a chance to huddle together under cover, a broken buggy wheel into an excuse to enjoy a slower pace. “You have a crooked way of looking at life, John Beiler.”

  “Can’t a man admire the Creator’s handiwork?”

  Five’s father, also named John Beiler, had instilled a strong love of God in his children. Mary was ever inspired by Five’s faith, that quiet strength he possessed deep within. Sometimes, when she dreamed of the children they would have together, the Lord willing, she imagined their sons and daughters echoing Five’s faith through kindness and good works.

  “The winds have died down, there’s not a cloud to be seen, and look at the stars overhead. Sparkling gems in the sky. Mary, have you ever seen stars so magnificent?”

  His enthusiasm never ceased to amaze her. “Can’t say that I have.”

  Holding the reins in one hand, he reached back with another and handed her a blanket. “There you go. You can tuck this over your legs. Or simply move a bit closer to me and I’ll keep you warm.”

  “The blanket will be fine,” she said, laying it over their legs. Immediately it began to capture the heat from the warm brick Five had placed on the floor of the buggy. “But I’ll not get too close. We can’t have people talking about us before we have a chance to wed. It would break my heart if people thought we were doing the wrong thing.”

  “Sweet Mary. Always concerned about doing the right thing.” Even in the soft darkness she caught the light in his blue eyes as he reached toward her. How wondrous it was to see that glimmer of love there just for her.

  She felt the warmth of his hand on hers and she linked her fingers with his, encouraged by the privacy of darkness. “And don’t you share the same concerns? We’re both baptized members of the church. Our time for rumspringa is over. Of course I feel responsible for making the right choices.”

  “That’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

  Delight bubbled inside her upon hearing his words. “And I love you. Truly, I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  How many days and nights had she dreamed of a life with Five? So many times when she was changing Katie’s diaper, wringing laundry, or preparing a stew, she had imagined herself doing these tasks in a home she shared with Five. Diapering their own baby … tending to Five’s britches and shirts … cooking a meal to share with her husband and their family. She would bake for her new family … shoofly pies and butterscotch brownies and dilly bread. And oh, the quilts she would sew with other Amish women, her sisters and aunts and friends. And someday, God willing, her own daughters would join in and sit across from her in the quilting circle, soaking up the wisdom and tales of their elders as their fingers deftly moved a needle.

  “We don’t have too much longer to wait, Mary.” Five’s voice drew her back from her fantasies. “I’m ready to go to the bishop and declare my intentions. We could publish in the end of October and marry at the beginning of wedding season in November.”

  The effervescent joy in her heart suddenly went flat. “Oh, I don’t know about that, John.” She tried, but she couldn’t even muster a smile when she thought of the year ahead.

  “Hmm …” His voice was a low rumble. “When you call me John, I know we’re in trouble.”

  “God willing, the worst trouble is behind us, losing Mamm and Dat.”

  “And I’m not making light of that, Mary. You know I’d never—”

  “Of course, Five. You’ve been nothing but wonderful through it all. Sticking beside me and putting off our wedding plans.” When it became clear that Mary’s family needed her after her parents’ deaths, Five was the first to suggest they delay their wedding. He’d understood that it wasn’t only the little ones who needed care, but also the middle ones who required Mary’s nurturing. Ruthie and the twins were responsible children, but they needed guidance, especially Susie, who had her health issues. Then there was Sadie, sneaking off with Englishers every chance she got. That girl had always had a defian
t streak. Gabriel had talked with Bishop Samuel about the anger burning in his soul at the loss of their parents. Jonah, always a quiet one, had receded into himself, and though he was a grown man now, Mary still felt concern that he would ever find happiness. And Simon, deeply traumatized by what he’d seen … how she prayed that the healing would save Simon from his constant fear.

  “I know it’s a sin to worry, but here I am like a tangled ball of yarn and I don’t know what we’re going to do. When Adam arrived, we were all so relieved to have him back and in charge of things. And it was wonderful gut when he went for die Gemee, his instruction, and got baptized last fall. My brother is doing the best he can, but as time goes on it’s become more and more clear that he can’t handle the family alone.”

  “Of course he can’t,” Five agreed. “Everyone needs the support of the community.”

  “Ya. That and a wife. And that, I’ve come to think, is the thing that’s holding the family back. Adam can’t handle the family without a woman at his side. And right now, I happen to be that woman.”

  “But you’re to be my wife.” Five squeezed her arm against his, sending warmth radiating up her arm. When he lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand, she felt his love, a bird’s wings beating in her chest. “The time is approaching for us to be man and wife, Mary. This is what God wants for us.”

  “Ya? God has told you that?” she teased.

  “I know it as surely as there’s a moon and stars shining on us tonight. It’s time for us to be together, day and night, Mary. Time for us to start a family, God willing. Isn’t that what you want, too?”

  “I want it with all my heart,” she vowed, and she felt the truth in her words. Being with Five, even sitting here beside him on the worn leather seat of the buggy bench, it felt just right. She knew this was where she wanted to be, and she had a strong sense of God’s approval for their life together.

  And yet, the endless sense of duty to her siblings tugged at her, like an insistent goat pulling laundry from the clothesline. They needed her every day, nearly every minute of every day. At times the burden seemed overwhelming, but Mary set to one task at a time with faith that the good Lord would not give her more than she could bear.