Her Amish Suitor's Secret

by Carrie Lighte

  The sun was up and the sky bright when he walked outside. Still, he doubted it was six o’clock yet and he figured he might as well gather the eggs, too. Maybe by doing a few extra chores he’d get on Rose’s good side. Although he would usually avoid a young woman altogether if she seemed peevish toward him, Caleb couldn’t afford to alienate anyone at the camp. Besides, he surmised maybe he shouldn’t take Rose’s snippy attitude personally. During supper he learned she’d been in Maine for only a couple of weeks herself; maybe when she saw him onshore she mistook him for another uninvited caller. Sol indicated she had several men vying for her affections, which must be irritating since she clearly wasn’t interested in being courted.

  Caleb set down the milk pail, entered the coop and unlatched the door to the henhouse. The chickens were less cooperative than the cow had been and he incurred a few pecks on his wrist and hand as he wrested a couple of broody birds from the nesting box. After successfully retrieving his first egg, he realized he didn’t have a basket, so he swept his hat off his head and deposited the egg inside it. He’d collected a good dozen when he heard a woman’s voice behind him.

  “Exactly what do you think you’re doing?” It was Rose, and she sounded every bit as thorny this morning as she had yesterday evening by the lake.

  “Guder mariye,” he replied congenially. “I’m collecting oier.”

  “That’s my responsibility. Or Hope and Charity’s.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I do. I need every one of those to make breakfast for the guests. Your hut isn’t sturdy enough for you to pile so many on top of each other in it—they’ll break.”

  “Sorry.” Caleb carefully supported the bottom of his hat as he extended it to Rose so she could transfer the eggs into her basket. When she’d taken the last one, he turned on his heel and hightailed it away from her.

  He was halfway across the yard when she squawked, “Hey! You didn’t shut the door—the hinkel are getting out!”

  Spinning around, Caleb saw three chickens had escaped the coop and several more were streaming out. He dashed toward them with his arms spread wide to herd them back into the coop, but his feet were still sore from the blisters so he wasn’t as nimble as he needed to be. Rose came to his aid and by the time the chickens were inside again and she had secured the door behind her, she was red-faced and scowling. She picked up the egg basket and waited for him to retrieve the milk pail from where he’d left it in the grass earlier.

  “Are you sure you’re Amish?” she asked as they walked toward the house.

  Uh-oh. “Wh-what do you mean?” he stuttered.

  “My four-and five-year-old nieces and nephews know better than to leave the coop door open. They also know you should do the milking after collecting the oier, so you can bring the millich inside right away. We can’t drink this now. I’ll have to make sauer millich kuche instead.”

  Relieved his Englisch identity hadn’t been found out, Caleb smiled. “If your sauer millich kuche is anything like your aebeer babrag boi, then I’m glad I didn’t bring the millich inside right away.”

  Rose rolled her eyes—he noticed they were amber, not brown as he’d first thought. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, but a tiny smile decorated her lips. “I’m just glad you didn’t leave the corral door open. The gaul is much harder to round up than the hinkel.”

  “Are you speaking from personal experience?”

  Caught, she giggled. “Jah. I suppose you’re not the only one who’s careless the first morning after a long day of travel.”

  Caleb laughed. “Tomorrow I’ll do better, I promise.” If he lasted that long without blowing his cover.

  When they returned to the house, Sol was waiting on the porch to give Caleb a tour of the property and review his to-do list, which included maintaining the grounds, cabins, dock and boats, cultivating the gardens and orchards, caring for the livestock and completing a host of other minor chores, as well. How would he ever keep up with all of this and still have time to look for the coins, Caleb wondered.

  When they circled back to the porch, Sol gazed down the hill toward the water. “There’s a lot to be done, but be sure to have a little schpass while you’re here,” he advised. There was a catch in his voice as he added, “It’s a shame there’s not enough time for me to take you out on the lake to show you the best fishing spots...”

  Sensing Sol was nervous about his upcoming treatment, Caleb assured him, “You can show me when you return.” If I’m still here.

  “I’ll look forward to that,” Sol replied, grinning again.

  * * *

  After the last guests departed the dining hall and while Hope and Charity were clearing their dishes, Rose prepared the family’s breakfast. Usually, her aunt would have been helping, too, but on Mondays Nancy went to the bank first thing in the morning. Rose didn’t mind—she liked being in charge.

  Serving guests here seemed easier than at her restaurant in Pennsylvania, probably because at the camp everyone ate together, family-style, at long picnic tables. Instead of ordering individual meals, for breakfast and supper guests were offered two main entrées, homemade bread or buns, various garden fruits and vegetables, and of course, something sweet, such as doughnuts in the morning and desserts in the evening. For the noon meal, guests could make their own lunch or help themselves to the platters of bread, fruit and cheese Nancy or the girls set out for them, buffet-style. If guests had special dietary needs, they were welcome to use the kitchen to prepare their own meals either before or after the regular meal hours, but otherwise, everyone ate as much or as little as they liked from what was offered. Nancy said in the seven years since they opened the cabins to the public, she’d never received a single complaint.

  Glancing through the large window-like opening in the wall that separated the kitchen from the dining area, Rose reminded Charity to set an extra place at the table for Caleb.

  “Mamm said you met him yesterday. What’s he like?” Hope asked casually, causing Rose to suppress a smile. Having just turned sixteen, the twins were allowed to court now, and Rose had observed subtle signs of flirting when they interacted with certain boys at church. She remembered being that naive and optimistic about romance. It was gut to enjoy it while it lasted.

  “He’s probably a little older than I am,” she said, knowing Caleb’s age would dash their hopes of having him as a suitor.

  Sure enough, Hope moaned, clearly disappointed. “Aw, that’s too bad.”

  “He’s also rather doppich.” Rose only added that he was clumsy by way of consolation.

  “Doppich?” Charity echoed from the dining area. “How so?”

  “Well, let’s just say he’s not very light on his feet. Not very quick, either,” Rose replied with a laugh. “I almost ran him over with the canoe yesterday—and he was standing onshore! And this morning he let the hinkel out and it took him five minutes to round them up again.”

  “That’s because my new boots are giving me blisters,” Caleb clarified.

  Uh-oh. When did he kumme in and how much did he hear? Rose was mortified she might have been caught talking about Caleb, especially in unflattering terms. “Oh, uh, that’s too bad. After breakfast I’ll give you a couple adhesive bandages,” she offered. She ducked her head and pushed eggs around in a skillet as she listened to him introduce himself to Charity and Hope. A moment later she heard Nancy and Sol enter the dining hall, too.

  As they ate, Rose noted she’d have to make more food next time: Caleb had a voracious appetite, and he hardly gave himself time to swallow in between bites of scrapple and eggs. After everyone’s plate was empty, Sol reached for his wife’s hand and cleared his throat, but it was Nancy who spoke.

  “We want you all to know how much it means to us that we can count on you to keep the camp running smoothly. These next couple of months are going to be challenging and—” Her eyes fil
led and she stopped speaking.

  Rose got up and walked around to the other side of the table. Squeezing in between Sol and Nancy, she gave them each a sideways hug. “It’s a privilege to help and we’ll be praying faithfully for you.” Then she offered to finish cleaning up so Hope and Charity could accompany their parents to the house until the van arrived. Caleb solemnly shook Sol’s and Nancy’s hands—such a formal gesture, but perhaps that was what the Wisconsin Amish did, Rose thought—and after they left, he gulped down a final swig of coffee and took off for the fields. It wasn’t until Rose was bringing the tray of dirty dishes into the kitchen that she remembered he needed an adhesive bandage. Oh, well, I’ll give him one later.

  For now, she was reveling in the solitude. She liked being alone, even if it meant she had to do all the work by herself, because it gave her time to flesh out her plan for earning more money without neglecting her responsibilities at the camp. Since she needed to be available to the guests, she couldn’t take another part-time job in town. Too bad I couldn’t open the dining hall to the public, she thought. But that would definitely ruin the camp’s tranquil, isolated atmosphere—a huge no-no in her aunt’s book.

  The roadside fruit-and-vegetable stand was as close as Nancy and Sol allowed the general public to come to the camp. Typically, the Petersheims sold whatever produce they didn’t serve to the guests or use and can for themselves. However, so far this season they seemed to have a bumper crop of almost everything they grew, so Rose decided she’d put up the extra vegetables and use the fruit to make jam and sell it at the stand. She’d split the proceeds with her aunt and uncle, of course, since it was their harvest. Englischers back home were willing to pay a pretty penny for homemade jams and naturally preserved foods, and she imagined the same would be true of the Englischers in Maine. The extra income wouldn’t be enough to secure the lease for the café, but it would be a start until Rose could devise a more lucrative plan.

  In between completing the rest of her chores at the camp, she took a trip into town for jars and other supplies, and then she spent the afternoon strawberry picking so she could make a double batch of jam the following day. She was pleased with her progress but exhausted by the time Eleanor arrived and the twins returned home to help her prepare the guests’ dinner.

  “What’s Caleb Miller like?” Eleanor asked, undoubtedly for the same reason the twins had inquired about him.

  This time, Rose answered more carefully. “You’ll get to meet him soon yourself.”

  Blithely Eleanor tugged Rose’s sleeve. “Just tell me one little thing about him.”

  “He’s in need of a bandage for a blister on his foot,” Rose retorted, her patience wearing thin. “Now, chop that asparagus, please. It’s already been washed.”

  “Is he tall?” Eleanor persisted. At five eleven, she was even taller than Rose.

  “That’s two things.” Rose pointed to the heap of stalks on the cutting board. “The asparagus, please.”

  “Jah, he’s tall,” Charity told Eleanor. “But he’s old.”

  Eleanor picked up a knife. “How old?”

  “At least thirty, maybe older.”

  “Kind of strange he’s not married yet,” Hope remarked.

  “Thirty’s not so old to be single. Not for a man anyway.” Eleanor shot Rose an exaggeratedly contrite look. “Oops, sorry, Rose.”

  “Don’t be,” she snapped. “I’m not.”

  * * *

  After spending the day repairing the dock, grooming the livestock and cleaning their stalls, fertilizing the gardens, digging up tubers and harvesting asparagus, as well as pruning the shrubbery around the camp, Caleb’s arm and back muscles were so sore he didn’t give a second thought to the blisters on his feet. While his work allowed him plenty of opportunities to scope out the property, he was discouraged to discover how thick the undergrowth was in the woods on both sides of the camp. The coins could be anywhere—or nowhere.

  He’d stopped moving only long enough to eat lunch in the dining hall around one thirty. By then, the guests had helped themselves to the light buffet, and two empty pie tins were the only evidence that Rose had set out pies for dessert. Caleb made a mental note to take his break earlier the following day. He suspected Rose would have baked more pies by then, as he’d crossed paths with her in the strawberry patch about a half hour ago. When he’d asked if she needed help picking berries, she waved him away. She seemed almost proprietorial about her duties, and Caleb remembered many Amish women considered their houses and gardens to be their domain. Not that Rose was like any other Amish woman he’d met, but still, Caleb figured it would be wise to give her a wide berth. After what he’d overheard her saying about him that morning he didn’t want to be considered intrusive, as well as clumsy and slow.

  At suppertime he felt slightly out of place as the only man among four women. To make matters more uncomfortable, Eleanor riddled him with questions about his life in Wisconsin. He tried to keep his answers as honest as he could, but his replies sounded evasive to his own ears.

  “Wisconsin is so far away. Won’t you miss your familye?” she asked.

  “My eldre died years ago, so it’s just my bruder and me now.” Caleb didn’t mention his nephew for fear it would lead to questions about Sheryl. He didn’t want to slip up and mention the pending divorce, which would be a giveaway since the Amish never divorced.

  “What about your friends? Or your girlfriend?”

  Caught off guard because most Amish people weren’t so candid in inquiring about romantic relationships, Caleb admitted, “I don’t have a girlfriend, and I’ll be too busy to miss anyone else.”

  Eleanor fluttered her lashes. “If you need my help with anything, just let me know. I’ve worked here every summer for the past five years, so I know this camp inside and out. If you’d like I could show you around the lake, too.”

  That could come in handy in his quest for the coins. “Denki. I might take you up on that offer.”

  “The guests have first dibs on the canoes and rowboats during the week,” Rose quickly informed him. “Suundaag is the only day we’re allowed to use them.”

  “Why? Don’t the guests go fishing or canoeing on Suundaag?”

  “Sometimes they do, but since we don’t serve meals on the Sabbat, most of them take the opportunity to go boating on Black Bear Lake, across town. The fishing isn’t nearly as gut but they can use motorboats there. Or they spend the day hiking or sightseeing, and shopping or dining in the area.”

  Caleb filed this bit of information away in his mind. Might the crook have taken advantage of the empty camp to hide the coins then? “Have you, uh, ever had any problems with unruly guests?” he ventured.

  Rose tipped her head quizzically. “Why do you ask that?”

  Fortunately, Eleanor was more forthcoming. “I have,” she complained. “Hope and Charity, remember that guy who yelled at me a few weeks ago?”

  “Because you tipped over his millich, right?”

  “Jah. He was narrish. Your daed very politely told him that’s not how we treat each other at the camp, and he stormed out of the dining hall.” Eleanor snickered. “They apparently were so offended they left that night and it was only the third day of their vacation.”

  Caleb’s pulse quickened. “They? Was he here with someone else?” An accomplice?

  “Jah, he was with his wife, I think. Or maybe she was his girlfriend. You know how Englischers are. They think nothing of—”

  “That’s enough, Eleanor,” Rose cut in, glancing at her nieces. “We’re here to serve our guests and to be an example of Gott’s love, not to pry or gossip about their private lives.”

  Caleb’s cheeks burned, but he was grateful for the information Eleanor disclosed. If he could gain access to the reservation book, maybe he could figure out which cabin the couple had stayed in. Not that they were necessarily the thieves, but it w
as worth noting their behavior seemed out of the ordinary. If he determined which cabin they’d rented, he could turn it inside out once Saturday rolled around.

  According to Sol, Saturday was changeover day. The current guests had to depart by ten in the morning, and the new guests weren’t allowed to arrive until two o’clock. Meanwhile, the girls cleaned and put fresh linens on the beds, while Caleb was expected to give the cabins a once-over, to be sure everything was in working order.

  “I didn’t mean to meddle,” Caleb said. “I, er, just wanted to know what to expect in case you ever needed me to, uh, step in...”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Rose’s tone was as vinegary as Eleanor’s was honeyed.

  “Speaking of stepping in,” the younger woman cooed, “Rose mentioned you needed a bandage for your foot. If you kumme up to the haus with me, I’ll give you one.”

  “Neh. I’ll get it,” Rose sternly objected. “You stay here and wash the dishes.”

  Caleb loitered in the dining hall until Rose returned, as it was clear she didn’t want him to accompany her, either. Too bad—going with Eleanor might have provided the perfect opportunity to sneak a peek at the reservation book, since she appeared eager to gain his favor.

  By Saturday Caleb had settled into his daily routine and he’d made great strides in his use of Deitsch, but he was no closer to figuring out where the couple Eleanor mentioned had stayed. He gave the cabins a thorough search, which wasn’t difficult since they were so small and uncluttered. Virtually identical to each other, each one consisted of an open living area with a picture window overlooking the lake, and two tiny bedrooms, as well as a compact bathroom. The furniture was exactly like his, except in addition to an armchair every cabin contained a small sofa. Caleb even examined the floors for loose boards and checked the dirt around the buildings’ foundations to see if it had been overturned. Nothing unusual jumped out at him. The only stray items he found left behind were a damp towel and a pair of sunglasses.