A Simple Wish

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A Simple Wish Page 7

by Charlotte Hubbard


  Drew’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, we can start that high and come down if we need to, I guess.”

  Nora waved him off. “Oh, ye of little faith,” she teased. “I’ll get my tags. We’ll put this out right now.”

  Drew watched Nora make her way between the displays of linens and some baskets he recognized as Edith’s. The ladies around Loretta were nodding and stepping away from her. “We’re really looking forward to your class next week,” one of them said.

  “Now that I see how easy it is,” another gal remarked, “I think I’ll get the hang of it once you start me off, Loretta. It’s a real treat to have an Amish girl teaching us, too!”

  Nora spoke encouragingly about the class to her customers as she came back to tag Drew’s rocker—and the three of them followed her.

  “Oh, my aunt Dorothy had a chair similar to that one!” the first lady exclaimed.

  “You know, my poor old sewing rocker is so loose in the joints I don’t dare sit on it anymore,” the short woman behind her remarked.

  Nora’s smiling face was thoughtful. “This is Drew Detweiler, who owns the furniture refurbishing place down the road,” she said. “I bet he could make your rocker gut as new—”

  “Jah, I could do that,” Drew put in with a nod.

  “It’s a good thing you can get your chair repaired, Melba,” the third lady said as she sat down in the rocker, “because this one would look just dandy beside my fireplace. And it fits my back like it was made for me—so don’t even bother to tie on that tag, Nora. Let’s just ring it up.”

  As the two women headed for the checkout counter, Drew’s mouth dropped open. In all the years he and Asa had operated a shop, he’d never made a sale so quickly—without saying a word to the customer. “I just finished upholstering this piece this morning,” he remarked to the lady, who was still sitting in it, rocking happily. “I’m really glad you like it. And here’s my card,” he said as he reached into his shirt pocket.

  Melba, the woman with the weak chair, took a card, too. “Perfect. I live on the other side of Morning Star, so would you pick it up and deliver it?” she asked. “My husband can’t lift anything anymore—”

  “Let’s jot down your address and phone number,” Drew said. He was delighted that Loretta had anticipated his need and come over with a pen and a pad of paper. “When’s a gut time for me to come for it?”

  “Tomorrow morning? Around ten?” she asked eagerly.

  “I’ll be there. Thanks for bringing your business to our new shop.” Drew wondered if his grin resembled a little kid’s as he lifted the rocker. “Shall we put this in the car for your friend?”

  About ten minutes later the English ladies had driven off and the rain was coming down in earnest. When Drew ducked back into the store, Loretta was chuckling and Nora was holding out money.

  “She paid cash, so here’s your share, Drew,” the redheaded storekeeper teased. “Was I right about how fast that chair would sell, or what?”

  “I stand in awe,” he said with a little bow.

  “Maybe you should be standing in your shop, fixing up more pieces to consign,” Loretta said lightly. “The same thing happened the day I brought my first rugs to Nora.”

  “I recall that,” Nora remarked. “And I’m really glad that I suggested you come to teach some classes that day, too, because look how that idea’s turned out. I hope Rosalyn’s busy making fall wreaths. Come September, I’ll sell everything she can bring me.”

  “She’s been working on some,” Loretta said with a nod. “Every minute we don’t spend keeping up the house and garden, we’re busy bees, crafting pieces for your store.”

  Nora smiled at the two of them. “This rain will probably make for a slow afternoon, so I’m going to catch up with some bookwork. And I’ll add a page for you in my consignment account book, Drew,” she added. “You and Asa are a wonderful addition to our little town, because you do quality work—and your refurbishing doesn’t take any business away from the Brenneman brothers, who always build new pieces.”

  Drew had rarely felt so blessed. Nora wasn’t one to slather on the compliments unless they were sincere, so her words gratified him. And was it his imagination, or was the shopkeeper wearing a mischievous expression as she left him and Loretta alone in the store?

  Loretta’s pretty upturned face left him no choice. Drew grabbed her hand, headed for a secluded corner, and led her behind a tall ornamental metal gate designed to resemble a patch of sunflowers. “Come here, sugar,” he whispered. When he reached for her, Loretta was already on tiptoe, ready to return the kiss she apparently needed as badly as he did.

  When they came up for air, she eased away from him. Her cheeks were pink, and her hazel eyes glowed like molten caramels. “Naughty boy, leading me astray behind the gate Preacher Ben made,” she teased.

  It was a good thing Loretta walked back into the main shop, or Drew might’ve kept her in hiding for several minutes longer. “I suspect Preacher Ben will admit to stealing a few kisses in his day,” Drew said in a voice tight with longing. “Did somebody tell me that he and Miriam haven’t been married all that long?”

  “Well, Miriam was married several years ago, back when she had Rachel, Rhoda, and Rebecca,” Loretta replied as she straightened a stack of quilted place mats. “But she’d been widowed when Ben breezed into town, and he apparently fell for her the moment she fed him one of her pastries. That was back when she ran the café—before Josiah Witmer rebuilt and expanded it this past winter.”

  “Most men follow their stomachs,” Drew remarked. The sound of rain drilling the roof told him he wouldn’t be walking home anytime soon, and with the fans in the high ceiling gently moving the cooled air, he was in no hurry to step back out into the heat and humidity, anyway. “There’s some remarkable stuff in here. I’d like to look around, so if you’ve got work to do—”

  “My number one job is to make folks feel at home—and feel like spending money—in Nora’s store,” Loretta interrupted sweetly. “But maybe, after our little disappearing act, I should sit here on my stool where Nora can see me working on my rug.”

  Her prim tone only tempted him to kiss the playful smile from her face. Loretta settled on her high stool and took up the rug she’d started, and Drew tried not to gawk as she tucked her shapely ankles behind one of the stool’s legs. Her eyes were focused on the plastic needle as she slipped it under a strip of purple fabric, but her thoughts were playing with her eyebrows and lips as she concentrated on not looking at him.

  Our little disappearing act makes the loft look awfully inviting, Drew thought as he gazed up at it. The unique banners hanging there would prevent any incoming customers from seeing them—but the last thing he wanted was to jeopardize Loretta’s standing with Nora, who was obviously thrilled to have her for an employee.

  “Nora makes those three-dimensional banners. Aren’t they amazing?”

  Drew’s jaw dropped. “Am I seeing things, or is that little Amish girl on the swing wearing a real kapp?”

  “You’ve got it right,” Loretta replied. “And Nora attached half of a little boy’s black straw hat to the one where he’s sitting on a hay bale with his puppy—which is a stuffed toy she cut in half and attached to it.”

  “I’ve got to check this out.” Drew passed a walnut bookshelf he recognized as the Brennemans’ style, with one of Cornelius’s clocks sitting on it, and then headed up the sturdy wooden staircase. The walls were hung with colorful pictures and planks of wood with Bible verses painted on them. When he reached the upper level, he saw twin-sized bed forms angled against the wall to display quilts, with more quilts hanging on poles that extended from the walls. Brightly colored shelves displayed handmade stuffed toys, hand-carved train sets, and other toys that enticed him to run his fingers over their glossy wood. He gazed for several moments at a shiny black rocking horse with a mane and tail of thick black yarn.

  When he looked closely at three more of Nora’s three-dimensional hanging
s, he was even more impressed with her imaginative work. The largest piece was a clothesline that had real, toddler-sized Amish clothes hanging on it, with real wooden clothespins. The background was a typical farm scene, with a red barn, horses, and cows sewn onto it. Another banner of a little Amish boy fishing—wearing real pants, a blue shirt, suspenders, and a straw hat—did unexpected things to his heartbeat. He and Asa had been avid fishermen as boys . . .

  Fighting a grin, Drew descended the stairs. Loretta was still perched prettily on her stool, running her plastic needle around the loops of her rug, but it was Nora he needed to see. He stopped at the doorway to her office, peering in. “Got a minute?”

  Nora looked up from a notebook of handwritten entries. “What can I do for you, Drew? As hard as the rain’s pouring down, I don’t blame you for sticking around with us.”

  “I want that banner you made of the little guy fishing,” he blurted, pointing toward the loft level. “And the little girl in the swing to go with it—and I have to have that black rocking horse, too. Leroy and Louisa are growing up in a family devoted to their Percherons, you know.”

  Nora’s smile warmed him. “The Mennonite man who made that rocking horse lives in New Haven. He was a little concerned that folks would prefer lighter-colored horses for their kids,” she said as she stood up. “I’m happy you proved him wrong, Drew. And I’m sure you, as a man who’s acquainted with items made of wood, will appreciate his craftsmanship more than most. Your kids and their kids will enjoy that horse—and between you and me, Edith has been eyeballing those banners for weeks. She’ll be delighted that you chose them.”

  Drew felt almost light-headed as he followed Nora up to the loft. He’d never been particularly drawn to kids’ things, yet as he took the banners she unclipped from their hanging line, he knew he was doing something special for Asa, Edith, and the twins. He wasn’t much of a shopper, either, but he valued Plain quality, and it didn’t even matter how much the banners and the rocking horse cost. He was grateful to God that Asa and Edith were raising the children he’d fathered in a less-than-honorable situation, so providing some wall hangings and a rocking horse felt good. His heart was thumping as he followed Nora back downstairs and to the checkout counter.

  “I’d be happy to drive these over to the house, if you’d like,” Nora said as she clipped the tags from the banners. “They’ll stay dry—”

  “And clean,” Drew pointed out. “Even if it stops raining, that old cart I brought the rocker in has wood shavings and all manner of loose crud in it.” He laughed, delighted with the plan that sprang to his mind. “When you take them over, don’t tell Asa and Edith who sent them. I’ll get a kick out of watching them try to guess.”

  “You’re on!” Nora folded the banners into a large plastic bag. “But I suspect they’ll figure you out pretty fast.”

  Drew shrugged. “Jah, Asa knew I was coming over here with that rocker. It’s still fun to make him happy, you know? He’s a better dat for those kids than I would ever be.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Drew. Your time will come.”

  Nora’s words did funny things to his heart—especially when he realized Loretta had come to stand beside him. She was gazing at the rocking horse as she picked up on the conversation.

  “What a wonderful-gut gift,” she murmured. “Edith and Asa provide everything those babies need, but the horse and hangings will be special because they’re from you, and they’re things Edith wouldn’t spend the money on.”

  Drew smiled at Loretta’s assessment of her younger sister. He had a feeling none of the Riehl girls were very spendy, living with a dat like Cornelius—and he’d heard them bemoaning the way their tightwad father refused to replace their mamm’s worn-out rugs, curtains, and furniture.

  Food for thought. He smiled at Loretta, noting the way she gazed at the items he’d purchased. When Nora slipped him the bill, Drew pulled the money she’d paid him for the rocking chair from his pocket and added fifty more from his wallet. The purchase all but cleaned him out, but it was worth it to see the wonder in Loretta’s eyes as she observed the transaction.

  “I’m glad you found some items you liked, Drew,” Nora said as she placed the money in her cash drawer. “I’ll drop them off this evening after the rain stops.”

  “Denki, Nora. As soon as Asa and I have more pieces finished, I’ll bring them by.” The sudden silence in the store made him look out the nearest window. “The rain’s letting up, and here comes the sun. I should probably head back to the shop and let you ladies get back to what you were doing. Have a great day.”

  As Drew returned Loretta’s smile, his gaze lingering on her lips, he was already searching for ways and reasons to see her again. Just being in her presence healed him; made him want to be a man worthy of her affections.

  Chapter Eight

  Will glared out his kitchen window, watching Detweiler grab the handle of his pull cart. How long had that bounder been in the Simple Gifts store—and why had he gone there in the first place?

  Loretta. What other reason would he have for going to Nora’s store? Certainly not shopping.

  Will finished rubbing his wet hair and threw the towel down in disgust. His shower hadn’t washed away the resentment he’d felt from the moment Detweiler had crossed the vineyard with that pitcher of lemonade. He’d pretended to be doing them a cold favor on a hot day, but Will knew better. Detweiler had seen a chance to rub Will’s nose in the fact that he’d snatched Loretta away, and his do-gooder intentions were a ruse. Everyone else in Willow Ridge might have forgiven Asa’s errant twin, but Will believed Drew’s conversion was only skin-deep. Any man who’d so cruelly deceived Molly, Edith, and his own brother wouldn’t change his evil ways so quickly, so effortlessly.

  A few moments later, Nora pulled her black van up to the door of her store and left its engine idling. Will’s pulse accelerated. Did this mean Loretta would be minding the store while Nora made a delivery? As he watched to be sure Detweiler really was heading down the road, a plan filled him with anticipation. He dressed in fresh pants and the last clean shirt hanging in the closet. Maybe when Loretta saw how rumpled he looked, she would take pity and sew him some new shirts out of the no-iron fabric from which she and her sisters made their dresses.

  His heart sang as he descended the stairs into the mill shop. The sign in the door was turned so BACK SHORTLY faced outward, and the little clock’s hands were on the twelve and the three—which meant Luke and Ira were probably out picking up eggs from their suppliers in nearby towns. Will paused in front of the refrigerated case. He grabbed a little tub of Nazareth Hostetler’s goat cheese—the kind she’d flavored with raspberry jam—and then spotted a bagged loaf of Miriam Hooley’s banana bread on the counter. Lunch had been a long time ago, and sharing these treats with Loretta would surely sweeten her attitude.

  Will waited at the back door until he saw Nora’s van turning onto the road. As he strode across the mowed lot that ran behind the mill, Ira’s place, and Luke and Nora’s white house, he elevated his thoughts to the mission at hand. It wouldn’t do to carry his resentment for Detweiler into the store, because the opportunities to see Loretta without her family around were as scarce as hens’ teeth.

  You have to get the words right the first time—have to convince her you’re the man whose heart’s in the right place.

  Will’s breath caught as he stood outside, peering through the glass in the shop’s door. Loretta was seated on a glossy walnut bench facing him, as pretty as he’d ever seen her. Her light blue dress was fresh and summery, as though the July heat and humidity weren’t affecting her. She was focused on the rug she was making as she waited for customers.

  Waiting for you to sweep her off her feet. Will said a quick prayer and opened the door.

  When the bell jangled, Loretta looked up with a smile that morphed into an expression of wary surprise. “W-Will,” she stammered. “What can I help you find? Nora’s store is full of—”

 
“Money can’t buy what I’m looking for, Loretta.” Will closed the door behind him, resisting the urge to lock it. “I brought us a snack, hoping we could talk.”

  Before she could protest, he sat on the other end of the short bench, only a few feet away from her—alone with her at last. Hoping to ease the doubt that furrowed Loretta’s brow, he held out the tub of goat cheese and the banana bread.

  “Go ahead and eat. I’m not hungry,” she said.

  Will frowned. This wasn’t going according to his anticipated script. “I wanted us to have another chance to—”

  “Will, it’s not going to work,” she said as she rose, clutching her rug. She was looking around the store, as though hoping she could conjure up customers—or hasten Nora’s return. “I’m sorry I ran off the other day when you were talking about us courting again, but—”

  “Sorry?” Will blurted. “You didn’t look any too sorry when you were kissing Detweiler!”

  Her desperate little squeal warned him that he’d lost control of the conversation—and of Loretta. “Please don’t be angry, Will,” she pleaded, backing away. “You and I are different people from when we lived in Roseville. You’ve gone through so much, and—and I’ve changed my mind about getting married.”

  Will felt the loaf of banana bread splitting in his grip. “You’re going to marry Detweiler, is that it?” he cried out. “You hardly even know him, and already—”

  “You’re making some mighty wild assumptions, Will,” Loretta fired back at him. “I’ve apologized for leaving you on the porch, and if you can’t accept that, you’d better leave. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but you’re not hearing a thing I’ve said.”

 

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