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The Innkeeper's Bride

Page 7

by Kathleen Fuller


  She was halfway home when she remembered the handkerchief and money. Not again! She would definitely give them to Levi tomorrow. She snuggled inside her coat against the winter chill and let out a long breath. It had been a long day but a satisfying one. She wasn’t concerned about Delilah too much despite the woman’s pickiness—or nitpickiness—and her sometimes contradictory nature. The cookies and bread were a nice treat, something she hadn’t expected from her. Levi must have gotten his thoughtfulness from her.

  Levi. He had started to say something before Delilah interrupted him. If it was important, she was sure he would tell her tomorrow when they went to Barton. She let out another breath. She and Levi would spend at least a couple of hours together. The ride in the car, the shopping, the ride back . . . Her nerves tightened. Then she settled down. He was her boss. Nothing else. She would be business friendly, polite but distant. That would be easy to do, especially with no other expectations between them. What a relief.

  * * *

  After Selah left, Levi questioned his impulsive decision to join her on a trip to Barton. He’d been stunned when she volunteered to shop for the Christmas decorations. It was outside the scope of her job for one thing, but he was grateful she said she would do it. And for some inexplicable reason, he didn’t want her to go to Barton alone.

  Not that he didn’t think she was capable. Clearly she was. But it didn’t feel right for her to take care of a task that should have already been done. At least his grandmother and Nina had thought about decorations. Decorating the inn for Christmas hadn’t even crossed his mind.

  He locked the front door of the inn and turned out the lights. Birch Creek was safe for the most part, but there’d been an incident of vandalism at Yoder’s Bakery last year. The perpetrators had been teenagers, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He also locked the back door before dashing through the cold to the house.

  Grossmutter was at the stove finishing supper preparations as Nina came into the room, Daed hobbling beside her.

  “Loren,” Grossmutter snapped. “What are you doing up?”

  “I can’t sit in that chair any longer.” He gave her a weary smile. “I’m joining you all for supper tonight.”

  Levi went to the mudroom and took a folding chair from against the wall. They kept a few there for when extra company showed up. He opened it and set it down at the end of the table where his father usually sat. Nina helped Daed settle into his regular chair and prop up his leg on the extra one.

  Grossmutter banged a wooden spoon against the pot where she’d been stirring navy bean soup. They had soup at least three times a week during the winter months, and none of the family ever got tired of it. “You should be resting, Loren.”

  “I have been.” His face was a little pale, but a spark shone in his eyes. Levi didn’t blame him for wanting to get out of the living room to eat with them. If he were in his father’s shoes, he would be bored out of his mind too.

  Nina helped set the table while Levi sat down next to Daed. “Are you sure you’re comfortable?” he asked.

  “Ya.” His father squirmed a little. “I’m gut. I’m also ready to eat.” He patted his flat stomach. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a real appetite.”

  When the table was set and everyone had taken their places, they said grace. Then Daed picked up his spoon and said, “How’s the new hire working out?”

  Levi opened his mouth to answer, but Grossmammi beat him to it. “She’ll do,” she said, putting several heaping ladles of soup into her bowl. She added a warm biscuit smothered in butter. If there was one thing his grandmother enjoyed, it was food.

  “C’mon, you can give her more credit than that.” Levi turned to his father. “I think she’s going to work out fine. If she was able to handle her”—he pointed at his grandmother with his thumb—“she can do anything.”

  Nina snorted and took a sip of her iced tea. “That’s a miracle.”

  “I beg yer pardon.” Delilah looked offended. “And snorting is very unladylike.”

  Nina rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She sat up straight and lifted her little finger as she picked up her fork. “Is this better?”

  Levi and his dad chuckled, but Grossmammi just rolled her eyes. She took a bite out of her biscuit and chewed furiously. He was glad to see Nina in a good mood, which was a big change from her attitude when they first moved to Birch Creek. She’d been homesick for Wisconsin and unsure about the family’s grand adventure in opening the inn. At the time he had been worried about her, but after she made friends with Martha and then Ira, she settled in.

  He smiled. It was good to see his family somewhat back to normal.

  “Glad to hear Selah can hold her own.” Daed dipped his spoon into the bean soup.

  “She’s also schee,” Nina commented. “Don’t you think so, Levi?”

  Since they’d been teenagers, Nina and Levi had made it a game to tease each other about possible love interests, which was harmless since neither one of them had ever had one. But he wasn’t in the mood for teasing, especially about Selah. He also couldn’t disagree with Nina’s assessment, but if he agreed out loud, Nina would never leave him alone. “She’s . . . cute.” Oh no, why had he said that? He might as well have said she was the prettiest girl in the county. She might just be.

  His sister, father, and grandmother all looked at him.

  “Cute?” Nina said, her eyes wide. “Did I hear you correctly? You’ve never said that about a maedel before.”

  He picked up a roll, and for a split second he thought about throwing it at her.

  She continued to gape at him. “You’ve never said anything about any maedel, other than you’re not interested.”

  He cringed, his words from yesterday coming back to haunt him. I’m not interested in Selah. If she had heard him say that about her, she hadn’t mentioned it today. That didn’t assuage his guilt, though.

  Daed remained quiet, as he usually did when dinner conversation turned to teasing about nonexistent relationships. Inwardly groaning, Levi looked at his grandmother, expecting that sly look she always got when she was thinking about pairing him up with someone. But she kept her head down and stayed silent like his father. Strange.

  “So you do think she’s schee,” Nina said, persisting.

  “I never said she was schee,” Levi said, insistent. I thought it, but I never said it.

  “You might as well have,” Nina added.

  “Good grief.” He set down his fork, more than annoyed. He turned to Daed. “We’re all set for the inspector tomorrow afternoon.”

  “He’s changing the subject,” Nina said in a loud whisper.

  Grossmutter looked strangely confused. “I noticed that too.”

  “I’m talking about business.” Levi scowled. “It’s not like that isn’t a relevant topic around here.”

  “Like I said, changing the subject.” Nina grinned at him. “You do like her, Levi.”

  “I never said that, either.”

  “Then you’re attracted to her?” Grossmammi pointed her fork at him, no longer looking confused but thoroughly interested.

  “I’m not attracted to her!” He squeezed the roll in his hand. Fortunately he hadn’t buttered it yet.

  “Sounds like you might be interested, though,” Daed said.

  His entire family had gone ab im kopp. That was the only explanation. He pushed away from the table. “I’m going to do the chores.”

  “But you didn’t finish yer supper,” Grossmammi called out.

  “I’m not hungry anymore.” In the mudroom, he snatched his coat and woolen hat off their pegs, and then he stormed outside. Flakes of snow floated down, but he barely noticed them. He yanked open the barn door and barged inside. Taking a deep breath, he paused. He was sweating under his coat, and he stripped it off. Normally family teasing didn’t bother him, and he’d always skillfully deflected it before. Not tonight. Tonight he was angry, and he had no idea why.

  He plopped onto a hay
bale and calmed down. He shouldn’t let this get to him. He’d made it clear how he felt about Selah the other day, and that hadn’t changed. Sure, he admired her for stepping up and helping with the decorations, and if Grossmutter was pleased with her work, then she was doing an excellent job as a maid. He was grateful for that too.

  And so what if he thought she was pretty? And a little intriguing? That didn’t mean anything. He had other things to focus on, like the inspection and the inn’s opening. Hopefully they would get more reservations for this weekend and the inn would be full. With all that pressing on him, he didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with teasing, no matter how good-natured—or in this case, immature.

  Levi stood to give his horse his feed and a quick brushing. If his family wanted to childishly tease him about Selah again, he would ignore them. They were wasting their breath anyway.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, Cevilla sipped her tea as Richard poured cream into his coffee. He’d joined her for breakfast, as was his habit every morning since he’d moved next door. Their routine was always the same. They had breakfast before seven, lunch at eleven, and supper at six. In between he read while she crocheted, and he helped her with light cleaning around the house. Then there was the obligatory nap—he on the couch, she in her chair—in the afternoon, and after supper he went back to his place. Normally she liked routine, but this morning the sameness of their days annoyed her.

  Last night after Delilah left, they’d had a wonderful evening. But Richard still refrained from speaking about his daughter and joining the church. It appeared that today would go the same way. She set her teacup down with a clank. “Are you always this slow?”

  Richard stopped stirring his coffee and looked surprised. “You’re not exactly Speedy Gonzales yourself.”

  “Who?”

  “Remember the cartoon? The mouse who moved so fast?”

  “Oh.” It had been so long since she’d watched cartoons or any other kind of TV that she had drawn a blank.

  “‘The Fastest Mouse in All of Mexico.’” He chuckled. “Classic.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  He looked at her, lifting one gray eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”

  She was tired of this roller coaster. She was used to being independent and not having to wait on someone else to make up their mind. Maybe that was the best way for her to live. God had known she was too impatient for a spouse. But that didn’t sit well with her, either.

  “Never mind,” she said, grabbing her teacup and taking a long drink, ignoring the burn in her mouth.

  “I’m not playing this game again.”

  Her gaze darted to him. “What game?”

  “The one where you’re clearly so bothered by something to make a comment about it, only to give me radio silence after.” He rubbed his brow. “You’re frustrating, you know that?”

  His unexpected words hurt. “So are you.” She crossed her arms. If he wanted a fight, she would give him one.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  She had been considering it, but now that he’d insulted her, she wasn’t going to reveal anything. She uncrossed her arms and picked up her teacup, taking a leisurely sip this time.

  “I see.” He pushed away from the table, grabbed his cane, and stood.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, shocked that he was taking his leave when they hadn’t even started eating.

  “Away from here.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

  By the time she’d scrambled to her feet and grabbed her own cane, the front door had slammed shut. For a slow man, he could move quickly when he wanted to.

  She sank down on the chair, her frustration replaced with regret. Oh, why had she let her foolish pride get the best of her? She and Richard rarely argued, but they were both aware of the tension between them, which she knew was mostly her fault. He wasn’t wrong about her being cagey with her thoughts. That was uncharacteristic of her, but she had vowed not to put undue pressure on him. Still, he wasn’t exactly being forthright, either.

  “Humph.” She crossed her arms again. If he wanted to be this way, let him. In fact, let him go back to California. She ignored the stab of pain in her heart. I need only you, Lord. Only you.

  She waited for the peace and encouragement that often came when she reaffirmed her devotion to the Lord. And it was there, mixed in with guilt and yearning that never seemed too far from her emotions. She loved Richard more than she ever thought possible. But how long is he going to string me along?

  Or maybe he was satisfied with their relationship as it was. Maybe he didn’t want anything more, like she did. Maybe when he told her he loved her, it wasn’t as a potential husband to a potential wife, like she had wanted or hoped it would be. It was as a friend. A companion. Someone to pass the time with. She glowered. If that was the case, he should have gotten a dog.

  Rarely was Cevilla confused, but she was now.

  She needed to talk to someone about this. But who? Her grandniece Ivy? Other than Noah, she was Cevilla’s only family relation. Or maybe she should seek out someone older than Ivy—like Ivy’s mother, Mary Yoder, or Naomi Detweiler. They’d both had long, solid marriages that had weathered some difficult times.

  “Or should I get a man’s perspective?” she said out loud, tapping her finger against her chin. The more she thought about that, the more she thought it was a good idea. She also knew just the man she wanted to talk to.

  * * *

  “I want you to check into that Amish hotel.”

  Jackson looked up from his freshly poured bowl of fruity loops. He and his father were at the kitchen table having breakfast together, a rarity. Although Dad lived in a nice apartment complex near the hotel, he wasn’t there that often, mostly staying over at Ashley’s or going on trips with her. As for Jackson, he’d been spending more and more time at the hotel, working on his business. He frowned, disgusted. He never thought he’d be the mature one out of the two of them. “It’s an inn, Dad. Not a hotel.”

  “Whatever.” His father waved a dismissive hand.

  Jackson squinted at him. “Did you wax your eyebrows?”

  Dad ran a finger over the thin line of graying hair above his eye. “Ashley says it makes me look younger.”

  “More like ridiculous,” Jackson mumbled before shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He frowned. “These things taste weird,” he said with his mouth full.

  “They’re organic and unsweetened.”

  Jackson choked down the cereal. It seemed that Ashley, who subsisted mostly on carrots and kale, had infiltrated the kitchen too. He shoved the bowl away. What was the point of eating fruity loops if they weren’t full of sugar and preservatives?

  “I want you to check into that Amish inn,” Dad repeated. “For a day or two, and then report back to me.”

  “Report what?”

  Dad leaned forward. “Their weaknesses.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t play dumb.” His father took a sip of orange juice. “There has to be something there we can exploit.”

  The milk seemed to turn sour in Jackson’s stomach. “I’m not playing dumb. I’m sincerely baffled that you would involve me in something like this.” And appalled.

  “Your future is at stake too.”

  “How? You have enough money to buy a street full of hotels, with plenty left over.”

  “That’s not the point.” Dad sat back in his chair. “It’s not only about money. It’s dominance. Being the top dog.” He clenched his fist. “Crushing your competitor.”

  “I thought it was about integrity and customer service.”

  “Not if you want to succeed.”

  This was one reason he’d been eager to go away to school. Even when his father didn’t have money, he was still consumed with being number one, even if it meant leaving a wake of damage in his path. The money just gave him more opportunity. “Keep me out of your schemes
.”

  His father scowled. “Here I am giving you a roof over your head and food to eat—”

  “Questionable food,” he muttered.

  “And you would refuse me this one small request. Not that I’m surprised. You’ve always been an ungrateful son.”

  Jackson took a deep breath and counted to ten, something he’d learned to do a long time ago when dealing with his father. “I’m not ungrateful,” he said, keeping his tone even. “What you’re asking me to do is wrong.”

  “You have to get a stronger spine if you’re going to have your own business, Jackson. That’s what I bought that fancy education for.”

  “One year,” Jackson said, reminding him. “You paid for one year. I took out loans for the rest.” Which was why he’d ended up back here. He couldn’t afford to go into any more debt.

  “So you’re just going to forget all the money I spent raising you? All the time I invested?”

  Jackson searched his father’s expression, which didn’t match his words at all. He was emotionless, as if he was talking about the weather instead of using manipulation. But that was how he was—at first, anyway. Jackson knew if he didn’t give in, his father would fly into a rage. Let him. He wasn’t going to be guilted into doing something that violated his core beliefs.

  “Maybe you should go live with your mother. Let her take care of you for a while.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a child.”

  “You’re not independent either, are you?”

  The point hit home. He couldn’t live with his mother, who had moved to Nevada with her boyfriend, Fred, right after Jackson had graduated high school. Jackson had visited her a couple of times, but she was so wrapped up in her own life, the same way his father was, that he stopped spending what little money he had on airfare to go see her. At least his father could afford to let him live here and pay him a wage. His mother couldn’t do that. Jackson wasn’t sure she would even if she could.

 

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