“What a lovely thing to say,” Edith murmured.
“I agree,” Andy said as he handed Leroy to Edith so he could look at Louisa. “But it’s the right thing to do, finding out who these wee ones belong to. Or do you think Will Gingerich will eventually raise them as his own?”
Asa bit back a retort, not wanting to sound judgmental. A pickup truck with a magnetic real estate sign on its door was pulling to a stop across the road, so he feigned interest in it as he listened closely to Edith’s reply.
“I don’t know,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “We all loved Will while we were growing up with him, and it seemed the natural order of things for him and Loretta to get engaged—until Dat called off their relationship without much explanation. I suspect Will married Molly too soon after that, and now the big issues of love, marriage, and raising babies have him befuddled.”
Asa felt her assessment of Gingerich’s situation was more than generous, but he kept his remarks to himself. “That fellow’s posting a big For Sale sign,” he remarked as the sound of hammering filled the air.
“That place belongs to an English family, and I’ve heard the parents can’t stay in their home any longer.” Andy held out Louisa so Asa would take her again. “I’ve got appointments at the clinic, so I should be going. I recommend you keep the twins on goat milk. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Denki so much, Andy. Have a gut rest of your day!”
How had he and Edith ended up alone on the porch with the twins? Asa had noticed no indication that Andy expected him to return to town with him, so he took this opportunity to get better acquainted with the young woman who’d so effortlessly captured his fancy. It was way too soon to start making romantic assumptions, however. For all he knew, Edith had a steady boyfriend. . . .
He can’t be much of a boyfriend if she’s gazing at you with such a sparkle in her eyes.
“Our wee ones are nodding off,” Edith said softly. “If we put them in their baskets, they’ll nap, most likely. Then you and I can visit.”
It was the invitation Asa had been waiting for. He watched Edith place Leroy in the basket with a design of deep blue and tan before gently stroking the boy’s cheek until his little eyes closed. When she held out her hands to take Louisa, Asa had a sudden flash of a future with this young woman, where all of these pieces fit so neatly into place—her, the babies, a home across the road....
“Those are nice baskets,” he remarked, mostly so he wouldn’t say something incredibly adolescent or stupid. “A huge improvement over the bushel baskets the babies came in.”
“I was glad I had them around,” she said as she settled Louisa into the basket with pink and yellow ribbons woven into its upper rim. “I originally made them as market baskets to sell at an auction—”
“You made these?” Asa leaned down to study the basket Leroy was snoozing in. “You should consign some to Nora’s shop. They’d fly off the shelves, no doubt about it.”
Edith’s smile made his heart dance. “She’s invited all of us girls to put our crafts in her store—and Dat is already displaying his clocks there. But it seems another project will be taking up my time for a while,” she added with a nod toward the twins.
“True enough. But you might not have the babies for long, once we figure out who their father is.”
When Edith’s face fell, Asa kicked himself for saying that. After watching her care for the twins, he could tell she was totally engrossed in them, as though Leroy and Louisa were her own. She sat down in the swing, patting the cushion as she gazed at the sleeping babies’ faces.
“I keep telling myself—just as Dat reminds me—not to get too attached to them,” she murmured. “But how can I not love them? They’ve been born into a situation that’s not their fault. I believe Will has gut intentions, but I can’t see him taking these kids back until he’s got a wife. And I couldn’t blame him for steering clear of marriage altogether, after what he’s been through with Molly.”
“Maybe she was out of her head with cancer pain, knowing she was about to die,” Asa said softly. He sat down on the swing, making the chains creak as he slowly began to rock forward and back. “I have no idea why my name was the last thing she said. Honest. Never met the poor woman.”
“I believe you, Asa.”
Edith’s face appeared so serene, her expression so intense as she gazed at him, that words left him. You can’t lead her on—can’t know what will come of further talk with Gingerich, or who else might step forward to admit he fathered these kids. To relieve the emotion the deep yearning in her eyes aroused in him, Asa focused on what was happening across the road. The truck was pulling away. The wooden sign had lettering large enough that he could read part of it from the Riehls’ porch.
“Most For Sale signs simply stick into the ground with metal prongs, so you have to wonder, as substantial as that sign is, if those folks think their farm might be on the market for a while,” Asa speculated. “Maybe that’s because Willow Ridge is such a small town, a distance from any highways. Might be interesting to know what they’re asking for it.”
Edith shrugged. “We’ve not met the owners. All you see is the occasional car going in and out—almost like nobody’s living there.”
Once again a fantasy flashed through Asa’s mind, as though his future was suddenly taking shape—as though God had led him to this place in this moment to give him an unmistakable sign. “You know, after talking with Luke and Andy and Nora,” Asa mused aloud, “I can see that my furniture refinishing business would be a lot more prosperous in Willow Ridge than it is in Clifford. My building doesn’t even have a display window—and most days we have so few folks come in, I don’t think the lack of a window matters.”
“Ah. So that’s what you do.”
“Jah, my brother and I work together. I do the refinishing work, and the repairing of the wood, and Drew does upholstery and some caning.” Asa pointed to the flat area at the roadside, where the wooden sign now stood. “If we put up a basic metal building with some big windows right there, we’d be close enough to the café and the quilt shop—and the rest of the stores—to attract a lot of walk-in customers. Lots of folks are interested in old pieces that have been restored, rather than buying new furniture that’s not made as well. We sell every old dining room table and antique bedroom set we can get our hands on.”
“Oh, Asa,” Edith said with a sigh. “It would be the most wonderful-gut thing if you moved across the road from us. Really it would.”
Red warning flags flapped in the back of his mind, and he didn’t dare look at her. He’d been thinking the same thing—but Edith’s dreamy tone of voice had returned him to reality. “It’s not like a snap of my fingers will make that happen,” he pointed out. “Purchasing a farm and then moving the furniture business—and getting my brother to go along with such major changes—would be a project every bit as big as the one you’ve taken on.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
“What would I do with all that land, though? I’m no farmer,” Asa went on with a shake of his head. “And what with the Brennemans having their cabinetry shop on this same road, I might upset the apple cart for their business, too.”
“God’s will be done,” Edith murmured in a voice he could barely hear.
Asa sighed loudly. He’d hurt her feelings. It wasn’t what he’d intended, but maybe it was best that he’d burst her rose-colored bubble before she’d made too many wishes he couldn’t fulfill. He hadn’t come to Willow Ridge looking for a wife—or kids—after all. Taking on a family was a major responsibility he didn’t feel ready for, because at twenty-seven he didn’t have a business prosperous enough that he could build a home for them. He couldn’t ask Edith to live in a sparse apartment above a store, the way he and his brother were doing.
Asa raked his fingers through his hair. As a black van came down the road, creating a dust cloud in its wake, he stood up. “I feel a headache coming o
n—and Andy’s told me I need plenty of rest if I’m to be healthy enough to leave by Monday,” he added. “It’s been gut talking to you, Edith. You’re a sweet girl. Better than I deserve.”
Before she could respond, Asa took the porch steps two at a time and cut across the back of the Riehls’ lot to return to town. The black van turning in at the end of the lane had been parked behind the Simple Gifts shop, so he had a pretty good idea who was driving it. He was suddenly in no mood for Nora Hooley’s freckle-faced, forthright honesty.
Chapter Six
Nora got out of the van and approached the Riehls’ porch in time to see Asa’s retreat—and Edith’s trembling lower lip. She sensed the two situations were connected, so she chose her words carefully. “I sure hope Asa’s not running from me,” she began as she ascended the wooden steps.
“Said he had a headache.”
“Uh-oh. Andy’s warned him to pay close attention to possible signs that his concussion’s not healing the way it should.”
Edith let out a tremulous sigh. “I got the impression it was me he was escaping rather than you. I’ll get over it.”
Slinging her arm around the young woman’s shoulders, Nora decided not to delve into whatever might have gone on before she arrived. She was curious about how Asa and Edith had gotten time alone together on the porch . . . which surely meant Cornelius was working downstairs, unaware of the young man’s presence. Cornelius impressed her as a very protective father, with conservative ideas about his daughters spending time with men—especially men nobody knew much about.
“Nora, hello!” someone said from inside the house.
“It’s gut to see you,” the other sister chimed in, and within moments Loretta and Rosalyn were coming out the screen door—then covering their mouths in a hurry.
“Sorry!” Loretta whispered as she looked at the babies. “Didn’t realize they were asleep.”
“The goat milk Nazareth’s brought over has really settled their tummies,” Rosalyn remarked with a smile. “It’s like the poor little things are finally able to relax and nap.”
“They’ve been through a lot,” Nora pointed out. She smiled at the twins, who were sleeping so sweetly in their baskets. “We tend to assume babies don’t understand what’s going on around them, but they pick up on more than we know. And meanwhile,” she continued in an excited murmur, “I’ve brought over the supplies Lydia Zook’s collected for you. I almost couldn’t pack it all into my van!”
Edith brightened immediately. “Let’s take a look! If we have everything put away before Dat gets home, he can’t fuss about us shuffling things around while he’s working.”
“Gut idea,” Loretta agreed as the four of them strode toward Nora’s van. “If he doesn’t see how much stuff folks have donated, he won’t preach at us about how we don’t need diapers, clothes, and other supplies because the twins won’t be staying all that long.”
“Jah, until Bishop Tom and Vernon Gingerich backed him into a corner, praising him for taking on these babies,” Rosalyn explained as she walked beside Nora, “Dat was going to take them straight back to Will today—except Dat went to Kansas City for clock parts instead.”
As Nora pieced together the picture of Cornelius Riehl his daughters were painting, she wasn’t surprised; he sounded like most of the Old Order men she’d known while she was growing up. Stern. Autocratic. Domineering. Their father’s absence had also provided a chance for Asa to visit with Edith—and probably stay longer than he would have, had the head of the Riehl family been monitoring their conversation and assessing the stranger in their midst.
Rather than dwelling upon Cornelius or Asa, however, Nora smiled as she opened the door on the side of her van. “I think you’ll be all set now. You’ve got stacks of diapers and little clothes, along with bassinets—”
“And look at these bibs!” Loretta said as she grabbed the nearest box.
“We’ll be using this baby wash and shampoo later today,” Rosalyn remarked as she tugged on another box. “And I see ointment and wipes and—”
“Oh . . . oh,” Edith murmured as she gazed into the packed van. “A playpen, and a plastic bin full of little toys! This is better than Christmas!”
Touched by Edith’s wistful tone of voice, Nora stopped unloading her van to hug the pretty young woman. “Everybody says you can keep these things as long as you need them,” she said gently. “You’ve been an inspiration to us all, Edith. A reminder of how Jesus told us to love one another and care for those who can’t look after themselves—without question or hesitation.”
“Jah, when we’ve fed or clothed the least amongst us, we’ve done the same for Jesus,” Rosalyn said as she started for the house with a box. “You want these things in your room, Edith?”
Edith smiled and followed her elder sister. “You and Loretta are already crowded in your room, so jah,” she said. “We can shift my bed over to the corner and set up the bassinets first thing. Then we can figure out where to put the playpen so it won’t be in the way.”
Nora set a couple of other boxes on the ground. She got a good hold on one end of a white wooden bassinet while Loretta grasped the other end. “Edith is so attached to these babies already,” Nora murmured. “She’s going to be awfully upset if their father steps in to claim them, or if your dat insists on taking them back to that guy who dropped them off.”
Loretta nodded, lowering her voice. “She has such a soft spot for babies, Edith does. Might be on account of how a burst appendix infected most of her female parts when she was only fourteen,” Loretta recounted as they walked. “We almost lost her—had no idea how much pain she was hiding or what was causing it until she passed out and Mamm insisted on getting her to the emergency room.”
“Oh, my,” Nora said, grimacing in sympathy for what young Edith must’ve gone through. “Does that mean she can’t have children?”
“That’s what the surgeon told us.”
“What a shame. Edith takes to mothering like a hen to her chicks.” As Loretta held the door open, Nora rolled the bassinet into the front room, glancing around. “What a pretty home you have. I was never here when it belonged to Reuben and his wife, but I’m guessing you girls freshened it up.”
Loretta laughed. “We spread lots of paint—and elbow grease—but otherwise it’s the same furniture we had in Roseville. Dat’s not much of one for changing anything that Mamm made or picked out.”
Nora nodded, thinking this detail fit with everything else she knew about Cornelius. When she and Loretta went up the stairs with the bassinet, Nora saw that everything on this level was very clean and neat, as well, without any extra embellishment or “doodads.” When they entered Edith’s room at the end of the hall, however, Nora’s eyes widened.
“Which one of you made this rag rug?” she asked, noting how the puffy rows of colors were arranged to form an oval rainbow.
“That would be Loretta,” Edith replied with a grin. “This was my nineteenth birthday present, just before we found out we’d be moving here. It’s probably the newest piece of handiwork we have.”
“My customers would go crazy for rugs like this! Matter of fact, now that Millie’s married and has a household to manage, I could use some help at the store, Loretta,” Nora said in a burst of inspiration. “You could even bring your materials and work on rugs when we had slow spells. People would love to watch you!”
Loretta’s cheeks turned pink as she waved off Nora’s praise. “That’s a toothbrush rug—because I use an old toothbrush with a hole in it, filed to a point, as my needle. Anybody could make one—”
“And you could teach them!” Nora blurted. She knelt to run her fingers over the rows of colorful, puffy stitches, certain that many of her regular customers would flock into Simple Gifts to take a class or two. English ladies were fascinated by Amish women and their crafts, and Loretta had the perfect personality for guiding them through the rug-making process. “What if we put a couple of your rugs on display with a sign-up
sheet? We can have Rebecca Oliveri print some posters about classes with you as the teacher, and also advertise them on our Web site,” Nora went on in a rush. “You’d make some nice money doing something you really enjoy, and you’d be the hit of Willow Ridge!”
Rosalyn playfully elbowed Loretta. “Working in Nora’s store would be great fun. You’ve said so more than once.”
Loretta was blushing, her expression vacillating between wistfulness and indecision. “But who would tend the chickens? And gather the eggs every day, and—and help Edith with the twins?”
“We’ve got the chickens and eggs taken care of before most folks are even out of bed,” Edith reminded her. “Rosalyn and I will be fine here at home—”
“You could set your own times to work in the store or to teach your classes,” Nora insisted. “Believe me, ladies who like crafting classes are happy to arrange their schedules for a chance to work with someone like you.”
Loretta smoothed the bassinet’s mattress, shaking her head even as she fought a grin. “It sounds like a lot of fun when you talk about it, Nora, but we all know how Dat would feel about any of us girls working in places where we’d be amongst English.”
Nora sighed. She’d anticipated this argument, because she’d heard it while growing up as an Old Order preacher’s daughter. “True enough, but you’d be teaching other women. I’d be really surprised if any men signed on for this class—and so what if they do? I’ll be there the whole time. It’ll mostly be one big hen party.”
“I’ll have to think on it.” Loretta gazed at Nora as the two of them headed for the stairs. “I really appreciate your asking me. But I’ve never worked anywhere, and—well, it would be something we’d have to plan for. Before you make a rug, you have to tear enough long strips of fabric and notch the ends, and that takes some doing. And some time.”
Nora sensed she’d gotten her final answer from Loretta—for today, anyway. “You’re right; we’ll need to plan this out. But I do hope you’ll think about working for me, or offering those classes, or whatever you can manage. I’ll try to be patient!”
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