Simple Amish Love 3-Book Collection

by Rachel Stoltzfus

  Jenny smiled back tentatively, noting that the man’s smile never reached his cold eyes.

  “Denki, Mr. Carey. I research old patterns and the colors used in each quilt. From there, I design a new quilt, either developing a complete new design or creating a more-traditional design,” she said.

  “One question, Miss King . . . how do you make these quilts with no electricity? Surely, you don’t hand-stitch every stitch!” said Ken.

  “Nee . . . no, Mr. King. My mother and I both have sewing machines. While we aren’t allowed to use electricity, we use car batteries, which we have charged from diesel generators. This, we are allowed under the Ordnung – the rules that tell us how we can live.”

  “Do you have time . . . to show me your own quilt-making process?” Ken asked. He asked, injecting a note of uncertainty into his voice, knowing his quarry would be more likely to say yes.

  “Ya. Come this way. I will show you how we have connected our sewing machines to large car batteries. Then, I will show you some of my designs on paper.” She showed him the batteries used in large trucks and how these were hooked to her sewing machine. From there, she pulled out large pieces of paper on which she had drawn some designs. Looking for one particular design, she pulled the paper out, spreading it on a long table. Opening a large handmade armoire, she found the quilt she wanted and spread it on a second long-table.

  “I use my paper patterns to guide me as I choose the fabrics and colors for my quilts. I cut them out, then stitch them together on my machine. Once that’s done, I cut out a large piece of batting, or filling and pin it to the quilted piece. I pick a backing that’s coordinated to one of the colors on the quilted side, then sew all three layers together. My mamm . . . my mother stitches decorative designs on the tops of my quilts, then we both work on the binding. From there, we’re ready to sell them.”

  “How long, from start to finish, does it take to make just one quilt?” Ken asked this question with a look of sharp calculation in his brown eyes.

  “Three to four months. I work to make sure each of my quilts is well-designed, then well-sewn together. I only sell quality work.”

  “Like I told you, I buy Amish quilts and sell them from my store,” Ken said. At this point, Rebecca walked in. She didn’t enter into the conversation between Jenny or Ken Carey – she simply listened, taking in what each said.

  As Ken handed Jenny one of his business cards, Rebecca crossed her arms unsmilingly. She stayed in the quilting room as Jenny escorted the Englisher to the front door. When Jenny came back to put the room back in order, she had only one thing to say.

  “Jenny, it’s exciting when an Englisher wants to do business with you and buy your quilts. That man is bad news. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “Mamm, let’s think about the possibility that our quilts could be seen and bought outside Lancaster county. I could help by bringing in more money that we could use here at home. Please?” Jenny pleaded.

  Rebecca sighed. “Let me have a few days to pray and think about this before I give you my decision.”

  “Denki, mamm!” Jenny was excited – her mamm hadn’t said ‘no’ outright, meaning she heard her reason for wanting to work with the Englisher. She sat at her sewing machine, picking up from the work she had been doing right before Christmas. She cut out and hemmed several pieces of brightly colored fabric, then sewed them together.

  Later that week, Rebecca came into the quilting room and sat down next to Jenny, who stopped sewing more of her quilt together.

  “Jenny, I’ve decided you can sell two quilts to Mr. Carey on a trial basis only. I know you want to get wide exposure for your quilts. I’m just concerned that he plans to exploit you and your work for his own purposes,” said Rebecca with a deep sigh. Ach, seeing them grow up is so hard! Yet I have to turn her over to the Lord and let her make her own decisions.

  Jenny squealed, a girlish, high-pitched sound as she grabbed her mother and gave her a bone-crushing hug. “Denki! I will be careful, mamm! I promise,” Jenny said breathlessly. She ran to her father’s carpentry shop, where one of the two phones in Peace Landing was located. She had Ken Carey’s business card in her apron pocket and reading the number embossed on it, she placed her call.

  “Yes, I need to speak to Mr. Ken Carey, please. My name is Jenny King. Mr. Carey came to my home in Lancaster county to talk about buying my quilts to sell in his store. Denki, thank you.”

  “Ken Carey speaking. Miss King? What’s your decision? I hope it’s good,” he said. Looking at himself in the mirror in his office, he schooled his voice so the avariciousness he was feeling wouldn’t come through in his voice.

  “Mr. Carey, my mother and I spoke. She’s allowing me to make two quilts to sell to you on a trial basis. If it works out, I may be available for additional quilts,” said Jenny with a quivery voice.

  “Excellent! Very good! Thank you! I’ll sell the quilts for the highest price I can get and I’ll split the funds with you, 60/40,” said Ken.

  “Mr. Carey, I’m the one that designs and makes the quilts – that should be a 50/50 split, I’m thinking,” Jenny said.

  Ken paused. Hmmm! She thinks she’s a businesswoman, does she? Okay, I’ll go along. He was silent for several slow beats. “Okay. That’s fair. Fifty-fifty it is,” he said, knowing he would actually pay her only 25 percent.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Isolated as she was in the Lapp home, Hannah grew restless under her parents’ and brother’s supervision. More and more, a life away from the Order looked more attractive. She knew that, because she wasn’t afraid of hard work, she could find a job quickly. Making up her mind, she decided it was time to shake the dust of Peace Landing from her shoes and leave for good. Packing her belongings, she traveled to the store with her mother, supposedly to help her out. In reality, she was in town only to call an Englisher driver to pick her up.

  “Ya – yes, please pick me up tomorrow morning. How early can you get to my parents’ farm?” she asked the driver.

  “At any time you need,” said the Englisher.

  “Good. How about four-thirty, then?”

  The Englisher was silent for several seconds. Then, “Okay, four-thirty it is. I drive a silver mini-van. Will you have any luggage?”

  “Yes, I will. Two bags. Will they fit in your car?”

  “Easily. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.” The Englisher hung up. Hannah, looking around, hung up in triumphant satisfaction.

  The next morning, she was up very early. She had laid her clothing out the night before so she wouldn’t wake her family by getting up so early. Tossing her nightgown on the bed, she dressed and combed her hair quickly. Setting her kapp on her head, she smiled – soon she would be able to rid herself of these ridiculous items! She gripped her luggage firmly in both hands and moved carefully down the stairs. Setting her bags down, she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil and scribbled out a note to her parents and brother:

  Mamm, daed, Jacob. I love you all. I can’t stay here and apologize for something I don’t feel I’m guilty of. You say the Order loves me and wants to forgive me. Well, my excommunication and Shunning have felt more like an unloving punishment. I’m much better than that. By leaving Peace Landing, I am going to prove that to everyone here. Don’t worry. When I find a job and a place to live, I will let you know where I am. If you choose to communicate with me that is fine. If not . . . so be it. Hannah Reading over her short, emotionless note, she nodded once in sharp satisfaction. Folding the note over once, she stood it up on the kitchen table and slid the pencil back into the hutch drawer. Lifting her luggage again, she carefully eased the front door open, wincing as she hoped not to make any noise. Waiting outside in the cold pre-dawn air, her heart pounded as she saw headlights in the distance, growing larger. She moved quickly to the front gate. The driver slowed as he looked at mailbox names. Seeing “Lapp,” he stopped his mini-van. Getting out, he opened the side sliding door and slid her luggage inside. Gripping her forear
m, he helped her into the seat.

  “So, where am I taking you so early?” he asked.

  “The nearest city that doesn’t have an Amish settlement in it, please!” Hannah said eagerly.

  “Oh. You’re leaving the Order, are you?” asked the older man. His bright blue eyes gleamed kindly.

  “Yes! I am ready to live as an Englisher. I want to find a job and a place to live.”

  “Okay. The nearest city is about an hour away. You know, you’re going to need a change of clothes. The Plain clothes you’re wearing make you . . . well, they make you stand out,” said the man.

  “I know. I need to find a way of buying regular clothing,” Hannah said, picking at her dark, plain dress.

  “I just had a thought. Some friends of mine – their daughter just suffered some really bad circumstances, and now, they’re taking care of her kids. Or trying to, that is. They’re younger than me, but in failing health. The kids are healthy and energetic and they’re running rings around grandma and grandpa. I’m afraid that, if they don’t get some kind of help or relief, they’ll lose the kids, too. I want to make a suggestion to you, Miss Lapp – if you’ll let me buy you some regular clothing, I will take you to my friends, if you’d like to become their nanny.”

  Hannah looked at him with her jaw gaping. A job? Regular clothes? What’s a nanny?

  “What’s a nanny? All I know is it has something to do with kinner – children.”

  “Simple. A nanny takes care of children. You’d be teaching them and supervising them. Helping prepare simple meals for them. Now, my friends are well-off and you could live in their home. If you’d like, I can take you straight to their home and I can tell them what I’ve thought of. Would that be okay with you?”

  Hannah smiled. Is the Lord providing for me even as I leave the Order? “I have my teaching certificate. This would be perfect for me! There is one thing . . . “Hannah sobered as she remembered. “I don’t drive . . . how would I get the children to different activities?”

  “I know someone who can give you lessons. This family has a vehicle you could use, once you learn. But first, you need breakfast and clothes. As soon as we get to a sizable town, we’ll stop for something to eat and find a store that opens fairly early. I don’t mind telling you, my friends love their grandkids, but they’re crazy with worry that the state will take the kids away from them, too! If they like you, then you’d be helping them – and the kids – out.”

  Hannah looked behind her. Peace Landing was far behind them. She felt an unexpected prickle of emotion and excitement.

  “I would like that, mister . . . What is your name?”

  “Peter. Peter Mandell. I know the Amish are really big on helping others. I have no idea why you’re leaving such a picturesque community. That’s your own business. All I know is you seem like a restless, decent sort of woman set on starting a new life. You need a job and a roof over your head. By helping my friends, you’ll meet those needs. Whatta’ ya say?

  “I like how you think, Mr. Peter Mandell. Yes, we . . . the Amish . . . are big on helping others. Due to . . . circumstances, I found it necessary to leave Peace Landing. Besides, I’ve been wanting to leave for a long time. My destiny is away from the Order,” Hannah said with certainty. Thank you.”

  Peter stopped in a town located at a distance from Peace Landing. He escorted Hannah to a table in the corner, where they ordered coffee and breakfast. By the time they finished, the sun was fully up, shining on the snow.

  “Okay, we can stop at a store that’s just down the road. I’ll buy you clothes, and you pay me back from whatever you earn from my friends. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Hannah said quickly. “What kind of clothing do I need?”

  “Denims. Shirts. Sweaters. Possibly some shoes. Since you’ll be working with kids, you don’t need fancy clothing. You’ll be getting just as dirty as they do,” predicted Peter.

  It will be odd to wear pants. But Englisher women wear pants all the time. I can do this!

  At the store, Peter was greeted by the manager, who took control of Hannah, sizing her up and taking her to clothing racks filled with women’s pants, shirts and sweaters. When they finished, Hannah had several pairs of jeans, some button-down shirts and heavy sweaters to ward off the intense cold. She had two boxes with sneakers and low-heeled boots that she could wear on the snow and ice.

  “May I change into some of this, please, ma’am?” she asked the manager.

  “Certainly! Peter bought it, so you can change whenever you want,” said the manager. “Just use the dressing room and I’ll let my employee know that you’re good to go.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah vanished behind the long curtain and pulled off her long dress, apron and kapp for the last time. With excitement and trembling hands, she changed into jeans and a sweater. On her feet, she slipped the comfy sneakers. Walking out diffidently, she felt exposed in the unaccustomed clothing.

  “Excellent! Okay, let’s take you to my friends’ house. I’m sure they’re struggling to get the kids ready for the day,” said Peter.

  “You didn’t say . . . what makes it difficult for them to take care of their grandchildren?” Hannah asked.

  “Greg had a stroke and he’s confined to a wheelchair. His intelligence is perfectly normal. He just can’t walk. His wife has multiple sclerosis, which is a disease that affects her nerves and muscles. She has good and bad days . . . lately, more bad than good. Stress, probably.”

  “Ah. So they have a hard time keeping up with their grandchildren.”

  “Yep. That’s where you, your youth and health come in. The kids were taken from their mother’s house by the state. Their social worker is concerned about the grandparents’ ability to take care of them. Because the kids aren’t in school yet . . . they need someone around 24/7 to help out. Those kids don’t need another move. They’re just now adjusting to living with Grammy and Grampy.”

  Hannah was silent. Peter really seemed to care for the welfare of his friends and their family. It seems the Englishers also carry out the will of the Lord. She stated as much to Peter, who flushed and grinned.

  “Nah. I just love my friends. They got a bad deal when their daughter decided she didn’t want to be a mother to her kids. Those kids don’t need to be uprooted again, plain and simple. I see why the state did what it did, but . . . See, in our world, we have agencies that look after the welfare of those who can’t take care of themselves. Good intent, but it doesn’t always work out as it should. When we team up, we can help, sometimes better than the state can do.”

  “I see what you’re saying.”

  As Hannah was talking, Peter pulled up to a large, one-story house. It looked tidy, well-cared-for and . . . almost sumptuous. Peter rang a doorbell and knocked on the door at the same time and waited.

  The door opened slowly and a small woman with wavy salt-and-pepper hair grinned as she saw Peter.

  “Peter! Come in! Who’s your friend?”

  “Connie, this is Hannah Lapp. She’s just left an Amish settlement and I thought of you. You need someone who can take care of the Terrific Two. Hannah has her teaching certificate and she can run after them, where you and Greg can’t. I’ve explained your situation to Hannah. I read her as a woman with a good heart who was constricted by the Amish rules. Get Greg and you can talk among yourselves. I’ll just watch the kids while you three talk,” Peter said.

  At the end of a detailed interview, Hannah had been hired as a nanny to Elizabeth and Travis Sears.

  “You’ll earn $75 per day and work six days a week. You’ll move into the room in between the kids’ rooms, and I’d like you to work with them on their basic learning. Because I can’t always cook, you’ll be responsible for meals. Is this fair for you?”

  “Ya definitely! Thank you!” Hannah said with fresh excitement.

  ***

  Back in Peace Landing, the Lapp family came down to Hannah’s cold note. After breakfast, Mrs. Lapp retreated to her room, where s
he sat on her bed, rocking and crying. Mr. Lapp retreated into himself and took care of chores in the barn. He sent Jacob to the store to buy supplies they needed before they began spring planting.

  The next evening, he knocked on the King’s front door. As he and Jenny visited, she told him about the verbal agreement she had made with Kan Carey. Jacob, looking at Jenny’s excited face, frowned. He hated being the sour note to her excitement . . . but.

  “Jenny, you chose not to take advantage of your rumspringe. You haven’t met people who want to take advantage of others. I have heard of this Ken Carey. Yes, he sells quilts that Amish women have made, but he takes advantage of them. He tells them that they’ll split the money either 50/50 or 60/40, but he keeps more like 75 percent of the money from selling one quilt. He gives the remaining 25 percent to the woman who made it. Go ahead and sell these two quilts to him, but please be cautious in how you deal with him. I don’t want to see you being cheated of what you’ve actually earned. I know that it takes a lot of time and effort to make even one quilt, okay?”

  Jenny looked at Jacob, stunned. Jacob is usually so much more trusting. Why is he telling me this? Does he not want to see me gain some independence? She voiced her thoughts to Jacob, wanting to be honest.

  Jacob’s face showed his upset.

  “Jenny, I spent time in Philadelphia on my rumpringe. I met Mr. Carey! He sells beautiful Amish crafts, not just quilts. Dolls, wooden animals, wooden toys, you name it. He makes most of his money by cheating the artisans who have made the items he sells. I can get you whole lists of them, if you’d like. Like I said, go ahead and work with this guy, but don’t be too surprised when he cheats you out of what you’ve rightfully earned. Chances are, he’ll price a quilt at about $2,000 – and you’ll be lucky to see $500. From which you need to buy new supplies.”

  Jenny stood restlessly and began pacing. Is this our first argument?