The Proving

by Beverly Lewis

  “Won’t it go faster if we work together in the same room?” Trina asked, clearly full of her own ideas.

  Again, Mandy didn’t argue. “Don’t forget, no jeans or pants . . . only modest skirts and dresses.”

  Trina raised one eyebrow as if about to speak, then seemed to reconsider. Instead, she said rather casually, “Guess I’ll have to do a little shopping today, then. And Gavin will have to get used to seeing a new me.”

  It occurred to Mandy that Trina might be eager to remain while Gavin was still there at the B and B. Could that be why she was offering to help?

  Doesn’t matter, Mandy realized, feeling strangely relieved as they hammered out the details of Trina’s employment.

  Jerome had a big talk on when he came for breakfast the next morning. “No new snow in sight,” he said as Mandy poured his coffee and gave him some apple juice, too.

  She presented him with a tasty breakfast casserole made by Trina, who’d broken the rules yesterday and gone out on a Sunday to shop for the ingredients to the various recipes she’d selected from the inn’s treasured recipe notebook. Even though she’d loaned Trina her car to do so, Mandy decided to remain mum about that.

  Jerome’s eyes lit up as he took a bite of the casserole. “Ach, this is wunnerbaar-gut!” he said, still chewing, his expression one of rapture.

  That’s when Mandy introduced Trina to her brother, saying, “I almost gave up on finding a gut cook.”

  “Givin’ up ain’t something we Dienners ever do,” he said, nodding at Trina, who offered a polite greeting before going to make some last-minute whipped cream to top her dishes of autumn-spiced fruit compote.

  With Trina nearby, now was no time for Mandy to recite the struggles of the past five weeks to her brother. It went without saying that if she was going to hire an Englischer, she must be desperate—or downright crazy.

  Chapter

  26

  One guest after another raved about the delectable breakfast, and one woman even assumed that Mandy had made it. “You’ve been holding out on us, young lady!” she exclaimed while Mandy was refilling coffee in the cheery breakfast room.

  Humored by what was in effect a backhanded compliment, Mandy was pleased with the turn of events.

  “May I have the recipe?” the same woman asked. “It’s Amish, right?”

  “Jah, and one my mother made quite a lot, as did my grandmother,” Mandy answered truthfully before going back to the kitchen, where she announced to Trina that her breakfast was an amazing success.

  “What did I tell you?” Trina said happily. “Cooking is my thing!”

  Stifling a smile, Mandy busied herself with running hot water into the sink to wash the dishes.

  “When do you start decorating for Christmas around here?” Trina asked as she carried the empty casserole pan over to the counter near Mandy. “It’s already kind of late in the season.” And before Mandy could answer, Trina started in on some holiday decorating ideas she had “to liven up the dreary place.”

  “Oh . . . but Amish people don’t put up trees or garland and whatnot,” Mandy informed her as she squirted dish soap into the water.

  “Well, that’s a bummer.” Trina frowned.

  “It’s our tradition, so the guests here don’t expect it.” Mandy said, worried that Trina was going to make this an issue for debate. “The most I’d consider doin’ is maybe buying a few poinsettias.”

  At that, Trina merely scoffed. “Hmmph.”

  “This is an authentic Amish inn, remember?”

  Trina shook her head and looked at her dubiously.

  Finally, Mandy put her foot down. “There will be no Christmas tree or plastic Santas here.”

  Shrugging, Trina looked away and went to pour some coffee for herself. “Just sayin’.”

  Maybe say less, Mandy thought, yet was still happy with the results of Trina’s cooking. The woman’s talent for it was even greater than Mandy had hoped.

  “If you stick around long enough, you’ll see this place is anything but dreary once the butterfly meadow is filled with newly blooming wild flowers,” Mandy said, wondering if Trina would still be here. “It’s quite the sight.”

  “I can’t wait,” Trina said.

  “The day you see both a butterfly and a hummingbird draw nectar from the same red zinnia is a red-letter day, believe me.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Trina said, preoccupied now with digging through a stack of drawers. “Where’s your citrus zester?”

  Mandy showed her, and Trina followed up with another half dozen questions as she searched here and there for the various kitchen implements she wanted in order to make lemon bars for an afternoon snack, seemingly more impatient by the minute.

  Oh dear, Mandy thought. Considering Trina’s mood, she was relieved when a few of the guests began to check out later that morning. It had been challenging to keep her contained in the kitchen. All Mandy needed now was for people to find out that the amazing Amish breakfasts were being prepared by anyone but an Amish cook!

  “It’s too bad you slept in today,” Gavin told Trina later that afternoon. He was standing near the sideboard, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved gray-and-white-striped polo shirt, refilling his coffee cup. “You missed out on a terrific breakfast.”

  Trina simply smiled, mindful of Mandy’s desire for secrecy. She asked what his favorite part of the meal had been, guessing what he might say.

  “The breakfast casserole was something out of a cooking show,” Gavin told her, taking a sip of coffee. “The perfect blend of potatoes, sausage, spinach, and cheese.”

  Inwardly pleased, Trina said, “You sound like a connoisseur.”

  “Well, due to my frequent travel, I eat out quite a lot. Eventually, you figure out what you like and what you don’t, I guess.”

  “With so much traveling, when do you find time to write? Besides here, that is.”

  He waved his hand. “I squeeze in articles when I can, but the poetry is just a hobby, more to unwind than anything. Keeps me human, I suppose.”

  She hesitated. “Well then, when are you going to grace me with one of your creations?”

  He laughed. “As soon as I’m convinced you won’t make fun.”

  This brought laughter to them both.

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Trina said, wanting to wait till he left before she removed the tablecloth to be washed in the third load of laundry so far today. She didn’t mind hanging the sheets and things out to dry on the line outdoors, thankful for the sunny day, no matter how cold.

  Gavin asked, “Say, since you’re checking out the day after tomorrow, I’d like to take you out for dinner tonight . . . one last time.”

  She drew a deep breath, hoping she didn’t appear too pleased. “Actually, it looks as though I’m going to be staying on a bit longer.”

  “Oh, now that’s a surprise,” Gavin replied, probably remembering her litany of complaints.

  “I’m just . . . uh . . . going to help out for a while,” Trina added.

  His eyes narrowed, and the truth seemed to dawn on him while she grinned and batted her eyes, affecting innocence.

  Finally, he gave a triumphant smile. “I thought something was up. So . . . let me guess, you made breakfast today?”

  Trina slid two fingers across her lips. “It’s a secret.”

  Seemingly amused, he folded his arms as she explained that Mandy needed some major help. “So you can’t tell a soul.”

  “Well, after that breakfast, you have my word.” His smile expanded to a grin. “How long do you plan to stay?”

  “I’m playing it by ear.”

  “No hurry to get home?” he asked, clearly bemused.

  “Nothing pressing,” she said, not revealing that she’d already spoken with her boss today about a leave of absence, uncertain when she might return to Rochester. Gail Anderson had actually applauded her decision, saying she thought the extended change of pace would be good for Trina, and thankfully, a neigh
bor had agreed to keep an eye on her place.

  “Is that a yes for tonight?” Gavin asked.

  “How about the weekend? Once I’ve caught up a bit.”

  “Okay, especially since it now seems as if you can’t avoid me, even if you want to.” His twinkle was endearing.

  “Smooth talker, aren’t you?” She liked his style. “Well, back to work.”

  “For both of us,” Gavin said, heading for the stairs with his coffee. “I’ve got a midafternoon phone conference. One of my clients is having HR issues with a restaurant merger.”

  Trina hurried back to the kitchen to begin her lemon bars, trying to wipe what must surely be a silly grin off her face.

  Two very hectic days passed, and amid all the changing of bedding and washing and hauling wood and coal, as well as feeding chickens and gathering their eggs . . . and the general cleaning of the B and B, Mandy appreciated Trina’s help. But there were times when Mandy was so exasperated with Trina’s ideas about the so-called proper way to do things that it was an added chore just to work alongside her. Even worse was that Trina was so often right. Considering she was new to all this, that was maddening!

  Mandy did her best to ignore the little things and focus on the basics, attempting to work together as a team. Like two mules pulling a load of hay. She smiled at that ridiculous image.

  “What’s that smirk about?” Trina asked as they made up the bed in the Yellow Room.

  “Oh, just thinkin’.”

  “Something funny?”

  Mandy presumed she would keep pressing, so she told her.

  Trina laughed. “That seems fitting. I actually like that, because I feel like a mule. Strong, persistent . . . yep, that’s me!”

  Mandy stifled another smile as they leaned over to make square corners on the clean sheet.

  “And that’s really what you were smiling about?” asked Trina, straightening.

  “Perty much.” Mandy breathed in the fresh, clean scent of the bedding. “Ever smell something so wunnerbaar?” she asked, changing the subject and referring to the sheets.

  Trina put her nose to the bedding, sniffed, then grimaced. “I don’t know—a chocolate cake beats sun-dried sheets to pieces.”

  This struck Mandy as funny, and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

  Eventually, Trina began to laugh with her.

  “So what’s your favorite fragrance?” Trina asked, putting the pillowcases on the feather pillows. “Is it really sun-dried sheets?”

  “Fresh-cut hay is high on my list of favorites.”

  Trina grimaced. “Hmm, I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  “My twin sister and I liked to run out to the field and watch our father and brothers run the baler.”

  Trina frowned.

  “My siblings and I always ran barefoot from early springtime till the first frost,” Mandy said when they had finished putting on the pretty yellow, white, and orange bed quilt. She sighed as she let the memory wash over her.

  “Where are all these siblings now?”

  Mandy waved. “You might not believe it if I told ya.”

  “Try me.”

  “They all live within a few miles of here.”

  Trina stopped for a moment and put her hands on her hips, as if thinking. “Okay, but . . . I’ve only met Jerome. He seems nice.”

  “Oh, he is.” Nice enough, Mandy thought.

  They moved next door to make up the Green Room, where earlier Mandy had left the folded clean sheets on the stripped bed.

  “You mentioned something about . . . a twin sister,” Trina said, gesturing for help in raising the mattress so she could slip on the bottom corner of the fitted sheet.

  “Jah, Arie Mae,” Mandy admitted, leaning down to help.

  “Where is she?”

  Mandy pointed toward the big farmhouse. “Right over there.”

  Trina made a horrified face. “Wait . . . your sister lives next door?”

  Mandy merely nodded, wishing their conversation had taken a different turn.

  “And you’re over here killing yourself?” Trina exclaimed and stopped to stare at Mandy. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

  “It’s a long story,” Mandy said, hoping Trina would drop it. Unlikely, she thought.

  “Doesn’t Arie know how much you’re struggling?”

  “Oh, I’m quite sure she knows.”

  Again, Trina frowned. “But doesn’t your twin care what happens to you? Or the inn?”

  Mandy blew out an exasperated breath. “If you must know, I let her go.”

  “You fired her?” Trina’s expression looked as though that was the last thing she’d expected to hear.

  “I had my reasons.” Mandy flinched, then let a welcome silence play out. She pointed to the lightweight blanket. “Trina, would you adjust the length on your side?”

  “Mandy? Don’t leave me hanging, okay?”

  Mandy sighed. “My sister and I were very close for many years.”

  Trina nodded. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “But I’d rather not talk ’bout it.”

  “Can’t you tell me anything?” Trina’s eyes showed concern.

  Mandy took time to smooth out the quilt before finally revealing, “We had a big falling-out.”

  Trina was nodding. “That’s the news flash?”

  Mandy sighed.

  “And?” Trina looked on expectantly.

  “I’ve said too much already.” No need to tell her more, Mandy thought.

  Trina pursed her lips, as if readying her next question, but before she could say more, the telephone rang, giving Mandy the perfect excuse to leave the room.

  Chapter

  27

  Mandy had been amazed at the variety of Mamma’s breakfast recipes Trina had made over the past week. True to Trina’s word, Mandy found her to be incredibly helpful in the kitchen.

  Also, Trina had not inquired further about Mandy’s issues with Arie Mae. As awkward as things had been between her and Trina at times, so far running the inn with Trina was going along well enough. When it came to accomplishing tasks, things seemed to go better if Trina called the shots, but Mandy didn’t mind. Not as long as I’m getting more sleep, Mandy thought, smiling.

  It was late in the afternoon Friday, an ideal day for drying clothing, considering the brilliant sky and a gentle wind. Mandy had run two loads of washing early that morning while Trina made breakfast and was heading outdoors to see if the clothes were dry on the line.

  Just then, one of the horses began to neigh loudly, and Mandy looked toward the stable and saw Yonnie coming toward her as fast as his short legs would carry him.

  “Dat’s with Gertie,” he said, his little face worried. “She’s real sick.”

  Together, they went across the yard to the stable door. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked Karl. The mare was lying down in the stall, mouth gaping.

  “It’s the colic,” Karl told her, squatting near Gertie’s head.

  No. Mandy closed her eyes in frustration.

  “As you prob’ly remember, it’s not uncommon in the winter, when horses aren’t out grazing,” Karl said.

  Indeed, Mandy well recalled that colic was the most common cause of death in horses. “My brother Sammy lost one of his horses to it,” she told Karl.

  “I’m awful sorry,” he said. “I’ve been sprinkling some hay in with the horses’ feed since the start of the coldest weather, hoping to ward off somethin’ like this.” He stroked Gertie’s mane. “I talked to the vet a day ago, and he stopped by after dark to look in on her.”

  “Never heard him—it must’ve been late.”

  “Considerin’ the hour, Merv pro’bly didn’t want to bother ya.” Karl pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch. “I ’spect he’ll be by any minute now for a follow-up.”

  “What can be done besides keepin’ her from eating much?”

  “It’s wait and see right now. She has no appetite, and she’s been given a l
axative and some pain medication, too.” Karl leaned closer to the mare. “I took Ol’ Tulip out the past couple days for the sleigh rides for the guests so Gertie here could rest . . . recover zimmlich glei.”

  Very soon, Mandy thought, hoping so. “I’d hate to lose her . . . she’s been like part of the family.”

  “Oh, I understand. Ain’t easy to see a beloved horse suffer so.” Karl’s expression was thoughtful. “Merv and I are doin’ everything we can to get her back to normal.”

  “Denki, Karl. This means so much.” Mandy bent low to stroke Gertie’s nose and whispered to her. “Gut girl . . . you’re such a gut girl.”

  Karl gave Gertie a pat, as well, and then took her pulse. “She’s at forty-five beats per minute—still higher than she should be, but an improvement from yesterday. I think she’s going to pull out of it.”

  “I pray so.”

  Karl looked at Mandy, his eyes soft. “Not to bring up a tetchy subject, but you seem a bit more settled these days. Glad to see it.”

  She paused, startled he’d say something so personal. “Well, I’ve been getting more sleep at night.”

  “I was concerned—my heart went out to ya, honestly.” He continued stroking Gertie, whose eyes were now closed. “I was wondering if maybe I might help more round here.”

  She was touched by the suggestion. He wants to do more? Without responding directly to his offer, she explained that Trina had been helping out lately.

  “So that’s the young woman who sometimes hangs out the washing—the Englischer?”

  “Jah, she’s just assisting for the time being,” Mandy said, guessing Karl would have a hard time understanding why she’d want to employ such a woman. “Trina came as a guest, and as much as it surprises me to say, she seems to be an answer to prayer.”

  “Well, you can thank the Good Lord.”

  Mandy nodded, surprised that Karl seemed to care when it really wasn’t his worry.

  ———

  The vet, Mervin Zimmerman, arrived shortly thereafter, sporting a five-o’clock shadow and a dark blue denim shirt visible beneath his open jacket.

  Mandy and Karl stepped aside when Merv entered the stall to do the required examination. Afterward, he insisted that Gertie be given additional water. “Force the liquids and get her up and moving around. That’s critical now.”