Nora held his gaze with her tranquil hazel eyes—eyes similar to Loretta’s, except that they were windows to a much wiser, more compassionate soul. “Well, he came clean after you exposed him during Edith and Asa’s wedding,” she pointed out. “None of us could imagine the nerve it took for Drew to feed Asa sleeping pills and then stand in as Edith’s would-be husband, but Edith was the first to forgive Drew.”
“Edith’s a saint. Loretta—” Will looked away, hoping the Hooleys didn’t see the tears in his eyes. “Loretta is sweet and loving and—and unable to comprehend the concept of such evil temptation. She doesn’t stand a chance against the likes of Detweiler.”
Luke gave Will’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “I understand why Drew’s advances have upset you—but I understand this situation from Detweiler’s perspective, as well.”
Will scowled, backing away. “What do you mean by that? Are you taking his side?”
Luke shook his head good-naturedly, smiling at his wife. “Before Nora caught my eye and held me accountable for my actions, I took great pleasure in running the roads with Annie Mae Knepp—the bishop’s daughter,” he replied. “Why was I sneaking her out of the house at night, making the tongues wag about how I, at thirty, was ruining a seventeen-year-old girl? I did it because I could—because I got a kick out of breaking the rules. And Annie Mae was rebel enough to enjoy it as much as I did.”
Before Will could stop himself, he blurted, “So you—you took advantage of her? You took her because you could?”
“Absolutely not.” Luke leveled his gaze at Will. “We appeared to be lovers, but appearances can be deceiving—”
“What he’s not telling you,” Nora put in, “is that his brother was along for most of those rides. Ira was seeing my daughter Millie—who, jah, was entirely too young to be dating a fellow nearly twelve years older than she was. But the four of them kept each other honorable, and now they’re all responsible, married adults—”
“Happily married adults,” Luke insisted as he slung his arm around Nora’s shoulders. “What I’m saying, Will, is that maybe Drew’s coming on to Loretta to irritate you. Maybe he’s just rubbing your nose in it without any intention of leading Loretta astray.”
“You think it wasn’t enough that he got Molly pregnant?” Will demanded. “I’m saying history could repeat itself—sooner rather than later—”
“And what can you do about that?” Luke asked softly. “The more worked up you get, the more Drew will enjoy stepping out with Loretta—and the more control he’ll have over your mindset. Just sayin’.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “Spoken like a guy,” she remarked. Her sigh sounded apologetic. “Sorry to say this, but if you were talking about marriage again, maybe Loretta wasn’t ready to listen—”
“But she loves me! Back before Cornelius butted in and—”
“Things change, Will. People change.” Nora gazed at him apologetically. “You’re not the same man she was courting before her dat stepped in. You’ve been married, and you were widowed by a terrible disease. Your life took a direction neither you nor Loretta wanted or could’ve predicted.”
Will sagged like a balloon losing its air. Would his short, ill-fated marriage with Molly color the rest of his life? What if Loretta—or any other young woman he met—found him unattractive because he was used goods . . . or because he’d caved in to need and desperation when he’d married Molly on the rebound?
“Denki for listening,” he muttered. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread this around, all right?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. We’ve all been dragged behind the wagon at one time or another,” Luke said. “I hope Loretta realizes what a fine, reliable man you are and comes to her senses. And if she doesn’t, I hope you’ll find a way to move beyond your hurt feelings.” Luke smiled at him. “Either way, Will, I’m mighty glad you’ve come to work for me. You’re an excellent farmer, and together we’ll make a go of that new vineyard.”
“If there’s anything we can do, just say the word,” Nora added kindly.
But what could anyone else do for him? He’d had Loretta’s complete attention—or had thought he had—until Detweiler drove up in front of the Riehl place with his dubious intentions and come-hither smile.
Will started for the stairway at the back of the store. “Denki for your kindness, but this is between me and Loretta.”
Except Loretta left. Without so much as a backward glance.
His footsteps in the stairwell sounded as hollow as he felt. When Will opened the door to the upstairs apartment, he sighed loudly. The place was sunny and reasonably clean, but if the Hooley brothers hadn’t left their furniture, it would be almost empty—and that was a kick in the head. He’d lost the farm he’d grown up on when his two older brothers had taken it over—and then, after Molly had died, he’d been evicted from the farm her parents had let them rent. Will had come to Willow Ridge with nothing but some clothes and a few personal effects to show for being a widower of twenty-seven.
Not much to offer a bride, his thoughts taunted him.
Will leaned against the windowsill in the small kitchen, staring out over the narrow ribbon of the Missouri River. From this vantage point, he could see the back of Nora’s white house and the red barn that housed her Simple Gifts store . . . a well-kept orchard . . . Bishop Tom’s herd of grazing Holsteins and the chicken house behind the Reihl home—and beyond that, the new metal shop building, where Detweiler kept an upstairs apartment because he didn’t want to live in the main house with Asa and Edith.
Detweiler’s no better off than I am. What does Loretta see in him?
Cursing under his breath, Will stepped away from the window. Until he had some answers, there was no sense in torturing himself with more painful questions.
Chapter Two
On Monday morning, as Nora was setting up a new pottery display in the front of her gift store, she couldn’t help smiling. Last weekend’s special Hot for August sale had decimated her wares, so she’d called her crafters with a plea for more of their handmade items. Her Simple Gifts shop had become a bigger win-win than she’d anticipated when she’d opened it last year: her Amish and Mennonite suppliers were earning a steady income from consigning their crafts to her, and she was making a nice profit from the English folks who loved to buy their quilts, furniture, dishes, and other unique, handmade items in her store. She felt she was empowering a lot of Plain ladies by allowing them to earn money that supplemented their husbands’ incomes while they worked at home.
After Nora dusted the handsome walnut bookcase the Brenneman brothers had brought in, she carefully arranged Amanda Brubaker’s tan and blue plates, bowls, and serving pieces on its shelves. A number of quilts were ready to be hung from her upstairs display poles, the result of a quilting contest the Schrocks had held in their quilt shop down the road—and one of them would cover the new sleigh bed that matched the Brennemans’ walnut bookcase, along with a fresh set of embroidered sheets Nellie Knepp had brought in. Nora was pleased that Annie Mae’s younger sister—another of ex-bishop Hiram’s daughters—was finding her way after her infamous dat’s crimes had claimed his life and rocked the foundations of Willow Ridge. There was great healing to be found in the community of women who expressed themselves in their handwork.
When a clock across the shop struck eight and played “Jesus Loves Me,” she thought of Cornelius Riehl, the clockmaker who’d moved to town with his three daughters this past spring. Sternly traditional and autocratic, he’d quickly realized that displaying his new and refurbished clocks in Simple Gifts brought in a lot more money than leaving them on his workbench at the house—and he was grudgingly allowing his girls to consign their baskets, rugs, and wreaths as well. Nora was hoping Edith would still have time to make baskets now that she was a wife and the mother of little Leroy and Louisa, and she believed Loretta could sell every rag rug she had time to make—
She can’t make rugs while she’s running the roads with Drew
Detweiler.
Nora laughed at this thought. After their conversation with Will, she and Luke had agreed to stay out of the sticky situation bubbling up between him and Loretta and Drew. Young love was known to blow east one day and west the next—but she felt sorry for Will. Seemed he’d been left with no love at all after his unfortunate marriage to a deceptive young woman had ended with her death.
Loretta, on the other hand, was probably getting herself in over her pretty head when it came to spending time with the elusive Drew Detweiler. Nora chuckled. She knew exactly why the middle Riehl daughter was so drawn in by Drew’s charisma: every gut and dutiful daughter longed for a bad boy to steal her away from her predictable life. Luke’s rebellious refusal to conform to the Old Order had been among the first of his traits to attract Nora, after all.
When the bell above the door jangled, Nora laughed. “Loretta! I was just thinking about you,” she called over to the young woman.
Loretta’s face was rosy with excitement, her hazel eyes alight with secrets as she carried a large rolled rag rug to where Nora sat. “Your thoughts were all gut ones, I hope,” she teased as she unrolled the multicolored rug on the floor beside the sleigh bed. “I’ve decided to work in your store, Nora—even teach rug-making classes, if you still want me to.”
Nora’s eyes widened. “What’s your dat saying about that? Last I knew, he’d forbidden you to work here among my English customers.”
“Dat’s gone to Kansas City for clock supplies today, so I’m feeling bold.” Loretta planted a fist on her hip and raised one eyebrow. “He doesn’t listen to me when I tell him it’d be faster and cheaper to order his supplies from a catalog and have them shipped, so why should I feel bound by his restrictions?”
Loretta’s new attitude set off alarms in Nora’s mind. She, too, had suggested that Cornelius order his parts from a catalog—and she thought it was highly suspicious that he hired a driver to take him into the city so often—but it wasn’t like Loretta to throw caution to the winds when it came to dealing with her dat. “I’d be delighted if you worked for me,” she said carefully. “And we’ve talked about what a perfect teacher you’d be for ladies who’d like to make rugs—”
“But?” Loretta challenged with a grin. “But you think Dat will storm in during one of my classes and order me to go home, ain’t so?”
“The image has crossed my mind, jah.”
Loretta rolled her eyes. “The way I see it, Edith defied Dat by dating Asa against his wishes—then by marrying him despite all the hullabaloo Drew caused on their wedding day,” she said confidently. “If Edith found her happily-ever-after by following her heart instead of Dat’s orders, that’s what I’m going to do, too. Life’s too short to spend so much of it under my father’s thumb.”
Part of her was cheering for Loretta’s independent streak, because Nora had defied everything her father, Preacher Gabe Glick, had stood for back in the day. But Nora knew Loretta would encounter some serious consequences for upsetting the Old Order ways—and her father, who was the deacon of Willow Ridge. She hated to see this young woman’s dreams get deadheaded before they could even bloom.
Nora moved closer to Loretta’s rug, smoothing the oval rows of purple, pink, and cream so it would lie flatter. “How did you know that this new rug would look so perfect alongside the set of pink sheets Nellie embroidered?” she asked lightly. “I have to wonder, though, what—or who—compelled you to declare your independence.”
Loretta’s cheeks turned pink. “Rosalyn and I have talked a lot since Edith married and left home, and we’ve made a pact. We’ve both decided to look for men to court and marry, rather than feeling so sorry for Dat that we remain at home forever taking care of him—as he hopes at least one of us will do. We deserve our own lives and families, don’t you think?”
“I do,” Nora said without hesitation. “I didn’t know your mother, but I’m sure she never intended for you to be stay-at-home daughters after she passed on. No doubt she—like most folks—figured your dat would remarry someday.”
“As if that’s going to happen,” Loretta said with a sigh. “Every time we mention that subject, Dat accuses us of dishonoring our mamm’s memory. So Rosalyn and I have sworn to stand up to him the way Edith did, instead of living timidly in his shadow.”
Nora moved the pile of quilts from the sleigh bed to a nearby table. It was time to be quiet so Loretta would fill the silence with the rest of her story. As she shook out the pink fitted sheet, Loretta grabbed the end closest to her and walked to the opposite side of the bed. After they’d slipped the bottom sheet over the box that served as a display mattress, the younger woman smiled at the row of pink and purple flowers across the top sheet.
“Nellie did a nice job. Look at her tiny, perfect stitches on these lilacs and lilies,” Loretta said as they smoothed the sheet. Her expression became more thoughtful as Nora chose a double wedding ring quilt in the same colors for the bed, and they folded the top of the sheet down over it so the embroidered flowers would show. “Nellie’s still a kid—not even a teenager yet—and she’s got to find her way without a mother just like we’re doing, except for a lot longer time,” Loretta remarked wistfully. “It’s so kind of you, Nora, to encourage all us girls. You don’t just provide a place for our crafts; you really listen to us.”
Deeply touched, Nora clasped Loretta’s hand across the bed. “I was cast out of Willow Ridge for something that wasn’t my fault,” she murmured. “I know a little bit about surviving on the sheer refusal to believe I was as unredeemable as folks told me I was. I made it back—made gut on God’s plan for me—so I hope I can help you girls do the same.”
They were silent as they stuffed pillows into Nellie’s embroidered pillowcases and then plumped them against the curved walnut headboard. Nora’s heart thrummed as she listened between the lines, wondering if Loretta was about to confide more.
“Wow, this bed looks like something out of a fairy tale,” Loretta whispered. She took a deep breath, her lips twitching with a smile. “These past couple of days, I’ve been imagining Drew Detweiler as my handsome prince, dreaming about the day we’ll ride away on his big black horse to find our happily-ever-after.”
Nora smiled. Didn’t every young woman fall in love with a man she believed would relieve the tedium of dirty dishes and solve her family problems—all the while making her giddy with his perfect affection? It was no time to burst Loretta’s rose-colored bubble by asking where Will Gingerich fit into this idyllic picture.
“Drew’s a fascinating fellow,” Nora said. “At twenty-seven, he’s lived through more, um, challenging situations than most men twice his age.”
“One kiss, and I was hooked,” Loretta murmured dreamily. “Well, really he had me from the moment he drove his buggy in front of the house and asked me to ride with him. I just couldn’t say no.”
Nora smiled to herself. Change out the buggy for a shiny new Lexus, and the story could be about the day her ex-husband, Tanner Landwehr, had first asked her out on a date. “Drew impresses me as the charismatic sort,” she said. “Some guys are magic. They know exactly what to say and do . . . exactly how to kiss you and hold you. The trick is to know if they’re just pretty words—all smoke and mirrors—or if they really do have a rabbit in their hat, and if it’s a rabbit you want to live with for the rest of your life.”
When Loretta appeared confused, Nora realized that she probably wasn’t familiar with stage magicians. Proper Old Order Amish girls didn’t watch television or indulge in the hocus-pocus games along the midway of the county fair.
“Be sure Drew’s actions match up with his words,” Nora explained gently. “Once you get beyond the thrill of running the roads and letting him kiss you silly, ask yourself if he sincerely likes and respects you, or if he’s making a game of it.”
Loretta sucked in her breath. “Drew would never—why do you think he would take advantage of me?” she demanded. “And why do you think I can’t handle any tricks he
might try to pull?”
Because you’re a sheltered young Amish woman and you don’t understand the way men think.
Nora smiled patiently. “I thought I was pretty savvy at your age, too—and I was already married to that English guy by then, lost in love with him,” she replied. “So lost I didn’t see it coming when he left me for somebody more sophisticated and interesting. I’d been working as a housekeeper in one of his family’s big hotels, so I was living out my own Cinderella story when the boss’s son married me—until he didn’t want me anymore.”
Loretta’s eyes widened as she thought about Nora’s story. “But—but you ended up with Luke,” she said. “And he’s just perfect.”
Nora laughed. “Jah, he is now. But when I first met Luke, he was convinced that my red convertible and shorts meant I was easy prey,” she elaborated. “He believed he was so suave and handsome and persuasive that I couldn’t possibly refuse him. Puh!”
Loretta giggled. “So you had to polish him up and smooth off some rough edges? It’s that way with Drew, too. He’s pretty impressed with himself sometimes. . . But wow,” she whispered. “He makes me feel really special. Absolutely beautiful.”
“Just be sure you know who you are and what you expect,” Nora suggested. “Don’t sell yourself short—or give yourself away. If he walks off, you’ll still be Loretta Riehl, who has her life to live, instead of being Drew’s castoff. And if you want to work in my store and teach rug-making classes,” she added purposefully, “you’ll have an even better foundation for this independence you’re growing into.”
Loretta’s eyes lit up with gratitude. “You know, lots of Amish girls my age are already married—like Edith, who’s only nineteen,” she pointed out. “But at twenty-three, I still want to have some fun. I want to try new things and visit places I’ve never been—and so does Drew. And I want to work in your beautiful store, Nora! Am I being selfish or wicked, wanting to enjoy my life before I settle down with my handsome prince?”
A Simple Wish Page 2