by Kelly Long
He wore faded blue jeans like she had seen Zach Calhoun wear, an orange-and-white-checkered shirt, and black suspenders. Suddenly she felt more than plain in her mourning black. Not that it mattered.
“Jah, I was here earlier talking to a guy about some bison meat.”
“That was my friend. He was watching the booth for me. Ezra Hein,” he said with a nod.
“Sadie Kauffman. Nice to meet you,” she returned. “He gave me some quotes when we stopped by earlier. I have them here.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the piece of paper with the price per pound that the friend had written down for her. Her hands were trembling as she handed it to Ezra.
“That’s a lot of meat,” he said.
“My family owns a restaurant in Wells Landing.”
He nodded.
Was it just her or was this conversation awkward? Probably because instead of talking about meat and restaurants, she’d rather be talking about anything else with him.
He had to be the most intriguing man she had ever seen. Attractive, polite . . .
She pushed those thoughts away. He was a Mennonite, and she was Amish. He was handsome, and she was plain. What would a guy like him want with a girl like her?
“Do you get the meat locally?” she asked, trying to remember all the things Mamm had wanted her to ask.
“You could say that. We raise them ourselves, then send them to a butcher in Tulsa. He packages everything there, and we pick it up when it’s ready.”
“Really?”
He smiled. “Yes. We also have ostriches and deer, if you’re interested. All of our stock is organically fed. Even the camels.”
Sadie was just drifting off into an Ezra-filled daydream when his last word brought her back to reality. “Camels? You don’t eat them, do you?” She tried not to make a face. But camel meat?
Ezra laughed. “No, we keep them for milk.”
“Camels, ostriches, bison, and deer? That sounds like quite a farm.”
“You should come out and see it sometime.”
She would like nothing more. And suddenly Chris going to Europe didn’t seem like the end of her world. “I would like that.” She smiled. “So, can you supply us with that much bison?”
He nodded. “Of course. When would you like delivery?”
As he worked out the details of the order with Sadie, she had a hard time concentrating on what he was saying and not how he looked and smelled while he was saying it. And she wondered when she might be able to get away to visit Hein Farms.
She signed the papers, handed him a business card for the restaurant, and shook his hand, loving the feel of his strong grip and his warm, calloused fingers.
What was wrong with her? She must have been out in the heat too long, though it was the prettiest day in late January that she could ever remember. Seventy degrees couldn’t really be described as hot.
“Well, Sadie Kauffman. I’ll be seeing you.”
She smiled at his words. Was that promise she heard in his voice, or just wishful thinking on her part? Please let it be promise. She couldn’t say what was so special about Ezra Hein, but it was there all the same. Suddenly the chasm between Amish and Mennonite didn’t seem so impossible to cross.
“He’s flirty,” Chris commented as they turned to go. He wore a frown on his face, his brow wrinkled with disapproval.
Sadie had almost forgotten he was with her. “He’s just nice,” she said.
“If you say so.”
“I do.” As they walked back down the aisle to find their friends, Sadie looked back at the stand.
Ezra was looking after them, her business card in one hand and a smile on his face. He caught her gaze and gave her a little wave.
Sadie returned it, then faced front, trying not to count down the days until she would see Ezra again.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Molly Jebber’s newest Amish romance,
Grace’s Forgiveness,
coming in February 2016!
CHAPTER 1
Berlin, Ohio, 1900
Grace Blauch pushed the door open to Sarah and Grace’s Sew Shop on Monday morning, and shut it against the June breeze behind her. Who was the attractive Amish man laughing with Sarah? No beard. He’s unwed. He towered over her friend and partner’s petite, short frame. She dropped her birthing supply bag on the board floor, removed her light shawl, and hung it on the knotty pinewood coat tree. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had trouble milking our cow.”
Sarah Helmuth waved her over. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad you’re here. Meet Mark King.” She hooked her arm through Grace’s and grinned. “This is my friend Grace Blauch.”
Mouth stretched in a wide grin and hat in hand, he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Mark.”
Her cheeks flushed and her heart raced. Most strangers turned away from her face the first time she met them, but Mark held her eyes. He didn’t stare at the red apple-sized birthmark on her right cheek. What a welcome change. “Please call me Grace.”
He had a small jagged line under his right eye. The scar added character to his handsome face. What was the story behind it? She liked his thick, dark wavy hair, straight white teeth, structured jawline, and broad shoulders. He held his tall black hat by his side with not a speck of dust on it. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, black pants, and suspenders, he had a neat appearance. “If you’ll pass me your hat, I’ll hang it up for you.” She hung his hat on the knotty pinewood hook next to her shawl.
Sarah pushed a stray curly blond hair in her black kapp. “Mark moved to Berlin from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, on Wednesday.” She separated from Grace and leaned against the counter. “The Stolzfuses sold him their place next to us. He visited Levi and me before supper last night and introduced himself. He’s showed us Mr. Stolzfus’s, now his, workshop. What beautiful furniture, toys, and other items he’s handcrafted.” She bounced on her toes. “Mark showed Levi oak shelves he had for sale, and Levi wasted no time in buying them. Mark’s offered to hang them, and I accepted. No telling when Levi would ever have built them for us. No doubt he means well, but he puts things off.”
Mark would be working in the shop. What wonderful news. “What a relief. We have no room to hang new quilts on these worn planked walls.”
“I need to plant hay in the fields and vegetables for my garden. Do you mind if I hang them tomorrow?”
“Grace opens early most days, and I come in a little later. She doesn’t have a husband to cook breakfast for yet. Today, we switched to give her a break. You can schedule a time with her to start work.” Sarah winked at Grace.
Grace’s cheeks heated. Sarah’s attempt to play matchmaker was far too obvious. She glanced at him. His face had reddened, but his grin remained. His reaction couldn’t have been any better. Mark was a fine gentleman.
He cleared his throat. “Miss Blauch. What time would you like me to be here tomorrow?”
“Is eight all right?”
“Jah, eight is fine with me.” He put on his hat. “Have a gut day.” He paused, held her eyes for a moment, and then left.
Grace’s heart pounded against her chest. His smile, the sparkle in his eye, and his strong but kind voice lingered in her mind. She couldn’t wait to learn more about him, if Sarah hadn’t scared him away with her obvious matchmaking. Grace lowered her chin and crossed her arms. “You embarrassed me when you said I was unwed.”
Sarah gently tapped Grace’s nose. “I didn’t exist to him after you walked in the room. The man is smitten with you.” She giggled. “I’ll not apologize. His face brightened when I told him. You’re glad I blurted it out. Admit it.”
Grace’s face softened and she smiled. “He looked at my eyes while talking to me, instead of staring at my cheek like most people I meet. It was refreshing.”
“Since he’ll be working in the shop, you’ll have a chance to learn more about him.”
“What have you found out about him?”
<
br /> “Two years ago, a stagecoach hit his parents’ buggy and they didn’t survive.” She leaned against the pinewood table. “I asked him if he had siblings, and he said not anymore. You came in before I could find out what he meant.”
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 that reached 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 just 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?”
“Jah, the discoloration is hard to miss. What a pity.”
The Englischers should talk more quietly. 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 emerald 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 up 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 back 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 bopplin. 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?”
Grace clasped her hands. Of course she was, but she didn’t want to dwell on him. He was new in town, but it wouldn’t be long before other women found 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 woodstove. Water sloshed 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?”
“Jah, 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 over to the general store, but 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 some coffee?”
“Jah, danki.”
This man 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 gave 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 the dustpan propped against the wall behind the counter, swept up the broken pieces, and threw them in t
he 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 burned 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 both his parents and his haus. It must be hard to move to a new place where he didn’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 knew 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?”