Matthias’s smile felt so wide, he probably resembled an ecstatic little boy at Christmas. “I’d be happy to provide examples of my work for—”
Saul held up his hand. “I have another proposition of a more serious, long-term nature,” he said, gazing steadily into Matthias’s eyes. “I have no sons to carry on my carriage business, and no employees with enough acumen to keep the shop profitable if something should happen to me. I’d like you to be my business partner, Matthias,” he stated without hesitation. “I’ve seen your work, and I’ve talked to a number of business owners in Willow Ridge. I’m convinced you’re the man I’ve been looking for.”
Matthias couldn’t breathe or think. It seemed Hartzler had traveled to Willow Ridge with the idea that he’d partner with Matthias even though they’d just met earlier this week.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” Matthias stammered, although there was really only one reply to Saul’s incredible proposition. “I’d be honored to partner with you, Saul. I’m amazed that you’ve made me this offer so soon after we’ve become acquainted.”
Saul’s dark beard shifted with his smile. “I’m rarely wrong about people’s aptitudes and character. You impress me as a man who provides the highest quality of workmanship on an everyday basis—and not just for folks who can afford your pricier, specialized items. I respect that.”
Bedazzled by Saul’s offer and compliments, Matthias gazed out over the pasture to compose his thoughts. This was no time to say something that would come across as silly—no time for half-baked ideas. “What do you see as my role in this partnership?” Matthias asked softly. “I know very little about building carriages—and your shop is clearly more productive and profitable than my harness business. From where I stand, it seems like a very lopsided arrangement.”
Saul’s intent gaze expressed his agreement with Matthias’s assessment, and his pleasure in it as well. “I can teach you the rudiments of carriage making, but I understand that working with leather is your calling, Matthias,” he replied. “I believe if I introduce you to my men—and show you my customer records, and we discuss the business, in general—over time you’ll get a firm grasp of it.”
Matthias’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t want me to keep the books, do you? It’s one thing to operate a little one-man shop, but it’s something else entirely to manage a company that pays wages and ships carriages all over the country.”
Once again, Saul smiled, as though he appreciated Matthias more with every question he asked. “My mother does the accounting,” he said. “Truth be told, her sharp eye on the books has probably had as much to do with keeping me profitable as my own decisions about what projects I take on. Martha Maude can tell you to the last dollar what those three fancy custom carriages have cost me to build,” he said. “I rely on her figures when I tell those big English clients what they’ll be paying me for such specialized work.”
Matthias considered this. It seemed a partnership with Hartzler Carriage Company might be more complicated than a gentleman’s agreement made on a handshake—and it surprised him that Saul considered his mother as another partner, of sorts. “I don’t mean to sound doubtful,” he said cautiously, “but if something happens to you—and to your mamm—”
“Then Hartzler Carriage Company will belong to you, Matthias.” Saul shifted in his chair, leaning toward Matthias to emphasize his point. “You’ve got it right. Martha Maude will remain in place as the company’s anchor and accountant if I should pass first, but once we’re both gone—or unable to conduct business—you will own Hartzler Carriage Company. I’ve prayed faithfully on this matter over the past few days, Matthias.”
Saul settled back in his chair then, appearing totally serene and at ease. “I believe God wants me to take you as my full partner. And my mother knows better than to second-guess God,” he added with a chuckle.
Matthias felt light-headed. Partnering with Saul Hartzler would be a monumental undertaking—a large, long-term learning curve. But what an opportunity!
“To make this more official, I’ll write up an agreement that spells out the terms we’ve discussed,” Saul said. “Once we’ve signed it, I’ll put it with the company’s records. Martha Maude already understands this partnership, but a signed document will spell out the details for any employees who might doubt my wishes, should my mother and I both pass on at the same time.”
Matthias nodded, still in awe of the plan Hartzler had put into place so quickly. He’d never known a Plain businessman to plan so fully for the future by putting his wishes in writing—and he understood that Saul’s implicit trust in him meant that there would be no attorney involved. Old Order Amish preferred to handle their own affairs and keep English lawyers out of them.
There would be no backing out, either. No changing his mind.
“Jah, the terms of our agreement should be on record,” Matthias agreed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some of your longtime employees might figure they should take over the company if something happens to you.”
Saul chuckled. “Make no mistake, Matthias. My mother and I are both as healthy as horses, and we plan to be on this earth for a long time yet,” he said. “But a man without sons must make his plans—and provide for his employees. If the carriage company were to close down or go bankrupt, two dozen hardworking men would lose their jobs. You and I are even more responsible for their welfare than for the profitability of the shop.”
“Jah, that’s the main thing—making sure those families don’t have to scramble to keep food on the table,” Matthias agreed. He couldn’t help thinking of poor Rose, left to care for her mother and daughter after her husband and her dat’s sawmill died with them.
Hartzler stood up and stuck out his hand. “You’ve hit the nail on the head,” he said as he pumped Matthias’s hand. “Now I know several families in this town will continue to be taken care of, their men fairly compensated. That’s part of my purpose as the deacon of this district, you see,” Saul added. “All of the Amish in Morning Star are provided for, because we look after our own.”
As Matthias followed Saul back into the house, rubbing his sore knuckles after another brisk handshake, he sensed he’d become a partner in a holy mission. Not only had the wealthiest businessman in town asked Matthias to work with him, but Saul had also invited him into the kinship of tending the flock. It was a high calling, a commitment to his new church district. Of course his harness business had just gotten a huge boost as well.
Anne and Martha Maude greeted him with bags of fresh lettuce, green onions, radishes, and peas—and a box containing a dozen quart jars of tomatoes, green beans, and beets. “This should keep you eating for a while, Matthias,” Anne said with a smile. “We’re so glad you came to supper—”
“And we’ll have you back often,” Martha Maude put in. She studied him intently, her facial features very much like her son’s. “Partners are like family. They share our successes and failures, and when they become woven into the fabric of our lives, we are strengthened and brightened. Welcome, Matthias.”
Matthias wasn’t sure how he responded to Martha Maude’s stirring words, and he probably only caught part of what Saul chatted about as he gave Matthias a ride home with his groceries. When he’d bid Saul good night and set the food on his kitchen table, Matthias stood at the back window.
Lord, I’m grateful for this unexpected gift—this amazing partnership You’ve opened to me, he prayed as the silhouettes of the trees against the night sky soothed him. Help me as I learn Saul’s business and tend to my own shop. And give me the right words when I tell Rose about this. Because You know I will.
Chapter 17
Rose sighed with satisfaction as she drizzled a powdered sugar glaze over two pans of warm cinnamon rolls. Because it took her a good forty minutes to drive here each morning, Sherrie had suggested that Rose could prepare the next day’s breakfast before she left—at least to the point where Sherrie could pop it into the oven—and then she could prepare the noon meal and supp
er after she arrived. It was only Wednesday, but Sherrie had told Rose she was doing exceptionally well, and that several residents had complimented her food.
“What’s for lunch, Mamma?” Gracie asked. She was seated, coloring, in a small school desk Sherrie had provided. “I hope it’s that meat loaf I’m smellin’. Are we eatin’ with Gladys again today?”
Rose smiled at her daughter. Gracie had adapted beautifully to being here at the senior center. “We can eat with anyone we want to,” she replied. “Maybe you can take a look, after folks come into the dining room, and see if somebody needs a friend, Gracie. Even if they don’t talk to us much, they’ll like having you at their table.”
Gracie considered this. She chose a purple crayon and concentrated on coloring within the lines of the butterfly that filled the page.
“Oh, it smells wonderful in here!” Sherrie exclaimed as she entered the kitchen. She clasped her hands as she gazed at the pans of cinnamon rolls. “Tomorrow’s breakfast?”
“Jah, and I’ll fry some apples for you to warm up and serve with them,” Rose replied. “Should I slice the meat loaf? It’s nearly noon.”
“Yes, and I’ll go help Zelma and Flo to the dining room. They’re a little slower these days. Gracie, would you like to come with me?” Sherrie asked. “Flo tells me you remind her of the little granddaughter she doesn’t see very often.”
Gracie skipped out the door ahead of Sherrie. Rose took the pans of meat loaf and hash brown casserole from the oven. She filled serving bowls with stewed tomatoes; then she fetched the bowls of gelatin salad from the refrigerator.
Alison, Sherrie’s assistant, smiled as she came into the kitchen. She was in her late twenties, a plump young woman with thick glasses and a compassionate way about her. “Rose, this dinner looks wonderful,” she said as she loaded the steaming bowls of food onto a wheeled cart. “I’m so glad you’ve come to cook for us! We were worried when Frieda had to leave, thinking we wouldn’t find anybody else who could cook the way she did.”
Rose glowed. “I’m grateful to work in a place where Gracie can come with me,” she said. “You ladies have made us feel right at home—only at home, we don’t have a big glass cage with lovebirds in it, or an aquarium.”
Alison chuckled. “Gracie’s such a sweetheart. All the residents hope she’ll come to their apartments with Sherrie and visit. I’ll be right back for more food.”
When the platters and bowls were on the table, and the residents were seated, Rose let Gracie lead her to the table she’d chosen. Rose introduced herself and met Flo, Zelma, and Ethan, all of whom greeted Gracie happily. After Rose and her daughter had bowed in prayer—and noticed that the other three folks had done the same—Flo spoke up in a voice that quavered a little.
“This is quite a feast,” she said. She passed the stewed tomatoes with both hands because they were shaking slightly. “I don’t know how you do it, fixing three meals a day for thirty-some people.”
Rose put a slice of meat loaf on her plate and on Gracie’s. “In Amish homes, it’s not unusual to have twenty or more folks for family get-togethers,” she pointed out. “If you’re used to fixing food for a family, it’s not that much more effort to feed a group like this one.”
“We like it here!” Gracie said in a high, happy voice. “It’s kinda quiet at home with just me and Mamma.”
Rose felt a pang of sorrow, recalling that a year ago they’d had her parents and Nathan eating with them. “It’s gut to be here amongst you folks,” she agreed in the cheeriest voice she could manage.
“I remember being home alone after my wife passed,” Ethan said wistfully. He adjusted his glasses and smiled at Rose. “I don’t recommend it. We’re all better off here, with activities and somebody to cook and clean and look after us.”
And being here helps me keep a roof over our heads, even if we don’t spend a lot of time under that roof anymore, Rose thought. She held the basket while Zelma chose a whole-wheat roll. It was good to be useful. Good to be busy. Best of all, you’re not at home feeling sorry for yourself, missing Mamma—or feeling like a charity case. Gracie’s got it right: it’s all gut.
* * *
On Thursday, as Matthias drove toward Cedar Creek, he thought about how to tell Rose he’d met her mother. He had signed Saul’s handwritten agreement on Wednesday, so the deal was sealed. The more time he spent with Hartzler, the more positive Matthias became: Rose would really upset the apple cart if she insisted on meeting Anne. Such a visit would wreak havoc on Anne’s marriage to a man who was used to being the head of the household, making all the decisions—and the partnership papers would probably be torn up if Saul knew Matthias had helped Rose find her birth mother.
Matthias sighed as he caught sight of the Cedar Creek Mercantile. He was buzzing with the excitement of seeing Rose and Gracie again—he missed them more than he’d thought possible. He’d repeatedly reviewed his lunch at the pizza place and those precious moments in the park, talking with Rose as they’d watched Gracie play.
She has a right to know about her mother. I can’t keep that information to myself, he mused as he steered his bay onto the road that led to the Fry place.
As he’d thought back to the meal he’d eaten in the Hartzler home, it struck him that although Anne had married well, she seemed rather lonely—and wasn’t Rose lonely, too? But while Rose had Gracie to brighten her days, Matthias sensed that Anne lived in the shadow of her more outgoing, outspoken mother-in-law, in a home built for children who hadn’t arrived to bless her marriage. And wasn’t that a puzzlement?
Why wouldn’t Anne want to meet her adult child—not to mention her grandchild? Matthias wondered as he approached the Fry farm. He knew the revelation of Anne’s secret baby would anger Saul—and it would be underhanded to arrange a reunion for Rose and Anne without letting Saul know. And yet . . .
Matthias sighed as he pulled into the lane. He’d seldom felt so torn about a situation. He wanted to please Rose by telling her about Anne, yet he didn’t want to get Anne into trouble and he didn’t want to kiss his shop’s future good-bye by casting Saul’s wife into a dubious light.
He sat in the open rig for a moment, looking around. The Fry house needed a fresh coat of paint—and the barn looked worse for the weather’s wear, too. The fencerows needed trimming, and the grass in the yard looked ankle-high. Matthias had come to Rose’s place with the idea of doing a few chores, but the larger jobs would take some planning and more time than he had today.
He pulled up to the side of the house, feeling vaguely uneasy. A few of the windows were open, so Gracie surely must’ve heard him driving up the lane. Still, he saw no sign of her—or her mother. A few dresses flapped forlornly on the clothesline behind the house, and Matthias wondered how long they’d been hanging there.
“Rose?” he called out as he stepped onto the porch. “Gracie? Anybody home?”
Silence.
Matthias sighed, glancing through the window. He saw a front room furnished with a couch that was covered with a quilt, and a couple of dolls on the floor near a saggy-looking upholstered rocking chair. He figured the door was unlocked, as most Plain doors were, but he didn’t feel right about letting himself inside.
He walked around the house and then out to the small barn. When he saw no horses inside, he realized that Rose and Gracie had gone someplace—and why wouldn’t they? No one stayed at home all the time.
“Should’ve called her,” Matthias muttered as he walked back to his rig. He’d driven for more than half an hour to get here, so he decided to stop at the mercantile before he headed home. Unlike some Plain merchants, Sam kept his store open on Thursdays, and Matthias was grateful for that. When he pulled up, the number of buggies told him several folks were shopping—so maybe Rose and Gracie were here. Her buggy resembled half of the ones he saw.
When Matthias stepped out of the bright sunshine into the store, the bell above the door jingled. He stood for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimm
er light. High up in the ceiling, gas-powered fans spun in lazy circles. The scent of grass seed in a barrel near the door tickled his nose and he sneezed.
“Hullo? If you need my help, just holler,” a familiar male voice called out from the center of the store.
“Hey there, Sam. It’s Matthias Wagler,” he replied. “No need to stop what you’re doing. I know my way around.”
Matthias nodded to a couple of fellows in black straw hats who were looking at metal fence posts and big spools of barbed wire. He walked slowly down the center aisle, smiling at Plain women pushing shopping carts through the grocery section. He was hoping his voice had alerted Gracie to his presence as he glanced from side to side in the toy section, past the kitchen utensils, and into the large corner filled with colorful bolts of fabric. Behind him, he heard a chuckle.
“Out of your usual territory, ain’t so?” Sam teased as he clapped Matthias’s back. “But maybe you’ve taken up quilting in your spare time.”
Matthias chuckled. “Truth be told, I’m looking for Rose and Gracie. I stopped by their place and they weren’t home,” he admitted. “Guess I’ll grab a few snacks for the road and head back to Morning Star.”
Sam shrugged. “Last time I saw those girls was Sunday, at church. No telling what they might be up to on such a fine day,” he said as they headed toward the front counter. “What’s new with you, Matthias?”
Did he share his big news, or keep it to himself? Matthias decided Sam was a good listener—and he might know the Hartzler family—so he quickly chose a bag of lemon drops, a bag of ripple potato chips, and a bottle of root beer from the big cooler full of ice on the floor. “I’ve taken on a partnership with the fellow who owns Hartzler Carriage Company,” he said softly. “It was a big surprise when he asked me.”
Sam nodded as he rang up Matthias’s purchases. “From what I’ve heard, that carriage shop is quite a lot larger than my brother-in-law James Graber’s, across the road,” he remarked. “So he wants you to make harnesses and such for him?”
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