by Molly Jebber
Grace moved to the small wood-burning stove in the corner, opened the door, and found logs inside. She lit a match and coaxed the fire with a poker to take hold. “Maybe his bruder or schweschder died, and the subject is too painful to discuss. You said he visited you and Levi. What was Levi’s impression of Mark?”
“Levi likes him. They talked about carpentry, farming, and fishing for over an hour. Levi promised to help Mark plant and has asked six other men to assist them as well. Mark will need all the help he can get if he plans to open a store in town and plant crops.”
The door opened and interrupted her conversation with Sarah. Two Englischers entered. The tall, elegant woman wore a printed, fitted, red and blue dress to her ankles. A button-down white sweater draped over her shoulders. The short, round woman with full cheeks had on a too-tight yellow dress. She scurried to catch up with her long-legged friend.
Grace faced them. “Wilkom. How may I help you today?”
The two women narrowed their eyes, frowned, and stole glances at her right cheek. “We came in to browse.”
She held a hand to her face. Would she ever remain unaffected by strangers’ stares? “Take your time. I’m happy to help you with whatever you need.”
The taller woman raised her eyebrows and leaned close to her friend. “Did you notice the poor girl’s face?”
“Yes, the discoloration is hard to miss. What a pity.”
The Englischers should talk quieter. Her birthmark hadn’t damaged her ability to hear. Grace hurried to the back room but left the door open to view the patrons.
Sarah followed her. “Don’t let our customers’ comments upset you.”
Her friend meant well, but Sarah had flawless skin. She had no idea what it was like to have strangers wince and stare at her. “I am working on it, but it’s difficult.”
Sarah put her hands on Grace’s shoulders. “God gave you beautiful brown hair, deep brown eyes, a petite nose, and a tall, thin frame. Concentrate on those features.”
She shouldn’t complain. God had blessed her with a healthy body. She straightened her shoulders and smoothed her white apron. “You’re right.” She threw back her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’ll assist the women, while you check supplies.”
The tall woman fingered the pinwheel green and white quilt hanging on the wall. She patted the pocket on the quilt. “What’s this for?”
“You write a meaningful letter to the person you are giving the quilt to and tuck it inside the pocket. We call them keepsake pocket quilts.”
The short woman with curly brown hair held a white eyelet quilt. “I want this one for my daughter. Who came up with this wonderful idea?”
“My friend, Becca Carrington and her schweschder, Ruth Kelly. Ruth’s late husband bought her a mending shop in Massillon, and she sells them there. She gave us her blessing to sell them in Berlin.”
The taller woman extended her hand. “I love the idea. I must tell my friends to shop here when they travel.”
Sliding back the curtain, Grace removed the dinted gray metal box hidden behind the pinewood table used for checking out customers. She opened the box containing coins separated into square sections. How exciting to sell two more quilts. She never tired of recording a sale. She picked up her pencil and wrote the prices and type of quilts the two women were buying in the store journal.
Both women read the pinned price note on their purchases and opened their reticules. Each woman passed two dollars in coins to Grace.
“Danki.” She dropped the coins in their proper spots, closed the box, and hid it behind the curtain under the counter. She and Sarah would have extra money to pay Mark for building the shelves without taking it out of the money they’d planned to use for buying new fabric. “I hope you will have a chance to visit us again. Have a safe trip.”
Grace joined Sarah in the supply room in the back of the store. “With the two quilts off the walls, we have the perfect spot for Mark to build shelves.” She pulled a sheet and cotton blanket from the top of an old oak chest and put them on a cot. “The shelves will allow us to display more of our products, and we won’t have to store as many of them back here. I need this space to work if a pregnant woman needs a midwife in a hurry.”
“I could never be a midwife. I can’t stand the sight of blood. I’m glad you’re able to find time to help me with the shop and deliver boppli. I wouldn’t want to manage this shop alone, and I love our quilts.” Sarah frowned and crossed her arms. “Something you said earlier bothered me.”
Grace paused and raised her eyebrows. “What did I say to upset you?”
“Don’t tell our customers Becca and Ruth gave us the idea to sell the quilts. If Bishop Weaver finds out, we’ll be chastised. We must shun them for joining the church then leaving our Amish community.”
Grace opened her mouth to speak, but shut it. Becca was her dear friend. She missed her. Shunning Becca hurt her worse than customers making rude comments about her face. Sarah hadn’t had a friend leave to become an Englischer. It was easier for her to adhere to Amish law where Becca was concerned.
“I’ll honor your wishes about Becca and Ruth.”
“Like I said, we don’t need to discuss it further.” She nudged her arm. “I’m more interested in talking about Mark. Are you excited he’ll be working here?”
She clasped her hands. Of course she was, but she didn’t want to dwell on him. New in town, it wouldn’t be long before other women would find him handsome too. “I am, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Grace stepped out of the back room and shook the kettle on the wood stove. Water slushed inside, and she set it on top to heat it. The door opened and Mark entered. She blushed and her eyes widened.
He strode over to her and removed his hat. “Did I leave my paper with the shelf measurements here?”
She glanced behind the desk and found a paper on the floor. She passed the note to him. He was handsome. “Is this what you are looking for?”
“Ja, now I don’t have to measure the walls again.”
Sarah grabbed a small, plain reticule. “Mark, I apologize for not offering you anything to drink earlier this morning. I was too excited to talk about the shelves. Please stay and enjoy a cup of hot coffee with Grace. I’m going to the General Store, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“No need to apologize.”
She waved and left.
Grace waited for the door to shut. “Would you like coffee?”
“Ja, danki.”
This mann affected her like no other. She couldn’t explain it. Grace poured him a cup of coffee and passed it to him.
The mug slipped through his hands. Bang. Splat. He shook his head and frowned. “My fingers are cold and stiff. I’m sorry about the mess.” Mark bent to pick up the shards and cut his hand.
She waved a dismissive hand. “Accidents happen. Are you all right?” She grabbed a clean towel and threw it to him. “Wrap your hand. I’ll be right back.” She ran to the sink in the back, wet a towel, grabbed two dry ones, and picked up her medical supply bag by the front door. Next to him, she stooped, threw open her bag, dug out what she needed, and tended to his hand. Large strong calloused hands. He must be a hard worker. “You don’t need stitches and the bleeding has stopped. The bandage can come off in a day or so.”
“Are you a nurse and a shop owner?”
“I’m a midwife and a shop owner.”
Grace lifted the soiled cloths, lifted an empty flour sack from under the shelf, and dropped them out of sight behind the counter. “I’ll pour you another cup of coffee.”
“Sounds good.” He grabbed a broom and dustpan propped against the wall behind the counter, swept up the broken pieces, and threw them in the trash bin. He returned the broom and dustpan where he found them.
Grace passed Mark a cup of coffee with steam rising off the top and glanced at the floor where the glass had been. “You didn’t have to clean up the mess, but I appreciate it.”
“It was the least
I could do.” He leaned against the counter. “Did Sarah tell you I bought the shop next door? We’ll be neighbors. I’m anxious to open my store after I finish my planting.”
What wonderful news. “No, she didn’t.” She slid her hands into her white apron pockets. “Did you have a store in Lancaster?”
“No, I built log cabins and barns. I handmade tables, chairs, trains, and horses at night out of pine, oak, and maple wood. I wanted to have a lot to sell before I bought and opened a shop.”
“Why did you choose to move to Berlin?”
“My haus caught on fire and burnt to the ground. Mr. Stolzfus lived next to me in Lancaster and offered to sell me his farm here in Berlin.”
Grace gasped. “What caused the fire?”
“Someone was in the barn during the night, left a lantern lit, and it fell over.”
Mark had endured a lot of pain in his life losing his parents and his haus. It must be hard to move to a new place where he wouldn’t know anyone. She couldn’t imagine doing the same. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been disheartening for you to lose everything.”
“My handcrafted items were in the workshop, and they weren’t harmed. I was fortunate. I can replace furniture, clothes, and household items.”
She shook her head. “I’m surprised you bought his haus sight unseen.”
He laughed. “We had become fast friends. I trusted him.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I needed somewhere to live. The Stolzfuses planned to move back to Berlin someday, but they liked Lancaster better. The price was right. If anything was wrong with the haus, I could repair it.” He walked over to a Jacob’s ladder–patterned quilt. “This caught my eye while we were talking. Did you sew this quilt?”
“I did. The Jacob’s ladder pattern is my favorite one to stitch.”
He put his mug on the counter. “This would be perfect to drape over the back of my settee.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out coins. “I’ll buy it.”
She lifted his purchase off three wooden pegs, folded the material, and unpinned the small white paper. “The price is two dollars.” She showed him the pocket. “You could write a letter, tuck it inside, and give the quilt to someone special for a keepsake.”
He pressed the money in her hand. “Maybe I will someday.”
His rough-skinned fingers grazed hers, and she warmed. The mann had left his friends, church, and everything familiar behind. How intriguing. She doubted she’d have the strength to do the same. “Won’t you miss your friends?”
“Ja, but I’ll write to them.” He lifted his purchase, and then glanced at the clock. “I should go. I bought livestock, a rooster and hens, from an Englischer I met at the General Store after I left your shop this morning. His name’s Jed Post. He told the storeowner he was moving and asked if he knew anyone who would be interested in buying them. I introduced myself, and the mann sold them to me for a gut price. He’s bringing them to me around ten.”
“The mann’s timing and yours couldn’t have been better. Have a gut day. I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning.”
He grinned and closed the door behind him.
Grace smiled as the door shut. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Molly Jebber
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-3761-3
First Electronic Edition: July 2015
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3762-0
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3762-X