A Wedding at the Orange Blossom Inn

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Of course, Jay realized, Ben’s life was currently far different than his own had been. He and Evelyn had been tightly nestled in Charm, Ohio, and surrounded by most of their family and friends. He’d grown up in the house both his parents and grandparents had lived in, farming land that earlier generations had cared for and prospered from.

  From the time he’d been ten or eleven, Evelyn had been a part of his life, too. Because she’d been fragile and delicate, he’d looked out for her on the playground, in the classroom, and during Sunday singings. In return, she’d always gazed at him like he was the strongest, best man in the world.

  With her, he had been.

  After he and Evelyn had married, they’d had Ben right away, then set about living much the same life of their parents.

  Well, almost. His mother had raised five kinner by being bossy and rather outspoken. Evelyn had needed Jay’s help disciplining the boys and managing the chickens and pigs. She’d had asthma and allergies and was often exhausted.

  When she’d started complaining about pressure in her chest, they’d taken her in for an x-ray and discovered that she didn’t simply have pneumonia—but lung cancer.

  One year later, she’d gone up to heaven.

  That had been eighteen months ago, soon after his fortieth birthday. Jay had cried and grieved, tried to make sense of something that made no sense.

  The only thing that gave him any semblance of peace was remembering his promises to her. Over and over he’d reassured her that they would still be married even when she was in heaven. That had comforted her. It had almost seemed as if she’d needed to know that he was going to be by her side in the afterlife.

  His throat tightened.

  He shook his head to clear it. It had become his habit of late to push the past from his mind because it was too painful to deal with. It was far better to concentrate on the here and now and their new life in Florida.

  Six months after Evelyn’s death, he’d begun thinking about making a change. Everything on their farm had reminded him of Evelyn. Their friends and family couldn’t seem to talk about anything but his loss and how sorry they felt for the boys.

  Little by little Jay had watched Ben, Mark, and even William raise their guards. Instead of being their usual open and chatty selves, they’d become withdrawn and wary. Instinctively, Jay had known that they weren’t simply grieving for their mother. Like him, they were becoming exhausted by attempting to move forward when practically everyone around them was determined to keep them in the past.

  So, one night over supper, he threw out his idea about moving to Florida, just to see how the boys would react. For the first time since Evelyn had been diagnosed with cancer, new life had appeared in their eyes.

  After that, Jay had begun making plans in earnest.

  Now, in just a few days’ time, they’d be moving into their new house, connected to three acres of prime farmland. It was a small place, both the house and the land—he’d farmed almost sixty acres at home—but he had modest goals now. He wasn’t hoping to sustain everything his forefathers had built—Ben or Mark or even William could move back to Charm to do that.

  Instead, Jay was merely hoping to occupy himself while William was in school. Maybe make a little money to add to his sizable savings. And, if by chance, his hard work enabled him to fall into an exhausted slumber before one or two in the morning? He would be grateful for that benefit as well.

  Feeling restless, he walked outside, glad Beverly had mentioned that he should feel free to use the patio anytime he wished. It was still warm out, most likely seventy degrees. However, the humidity had increased, and the scent of Beverly’s citrus trees filled the air. He sat down in one of the chairs and stretched his legs.

  And tried to relax.

  “Hey, Daed?”

  Jay started, unsure of how much time had passed. He looked across the darkened patio, lit only by some dimly glowing solar lights and a citronella candle burning in the center of the table, and saw his eldest. “Hi, Ben. I didn’t expect you home so early this evening.”

  Ben walked to the wrought-iron chair beside him and flopped down with a grunt. “I was about to go upstairs, but I noticed you sitting out here.”

  “And you thought you’d see how I was doing?”

  “Maybe.” He cracked a grin. “You’d do the same thing for me.”

  Jay couldn’t help but return the smile. “Indeed, I would. So, what did you do tonight?”

  “I went to Pinecraft Park.”

  “And how was that?” Jay knew most of the Amish in the area spent at least an hour or two there a day and often several hours there after suppertime. The park had everything from shuffleboard to basketball courts to a pavilion under which community members attended auctions, shared simple meals, or even listened to groups like the famous Knoxx Family speak.

  “It was fine.”

  “You don’t sound too enthused.”

  “I was hoping to see someone there but I didn’t.”

  “Tricia, perhaps?”

  Even in the dim light, Jay could see that Ben looked a little self-conscious. “Jah.” He shrugged. “I guess that was obvious,” he said with a grin. “I mean, there’s not too many girls here that I know.”

  “That will change, son.” Ben was a handsome, strapping boy who had helped farm fields for most of his life. He was also friendly and patient with other people. It would be only natural for the young girls to want to get to know him.

  “Jah. Maybe.”

  Jay knew a man liked his privacy, so he refrained from asking about Tricia though he was curious as to how their time at the pizza parlor had gone. Neither Mark nor Will had had much to say about Tricia, preferring instead to talk about their newfound love for pepperoni pizza with mushrooms and peppers.

  So Jay just leaned back and enjoyed the warm evening air. Back in Charm, it was still too cold to spend much time outside at night.

  “Hey, Daed?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When you were courting Mamm, did you know she was the one?”

  “I did when I married her.”

  “Well, of course you knew then. What about before then? What about when you talked with her for the first couple of times?”

  Jay tried to recall a time when he hadn’t known Evelyn. “Things were easy for us because our parents—your grandparents—were friends. And we had been in school together, too. I knew her for most of my life. Eventually, people assumed we would become a couple.”

  “Is that why you married her, ’cause everyone wanted you to?”

  Jay had to think about that. “Um, I don’t think so. No one was pushing us at each other or anything, but we both knew that a relationship would make everyone mighty happy. I guess in some ways we fell in love because it would make so many people we loved happy.”

  A line formed between Ben’s brows. “That’s it? You started seeing Mamm because it was convenient?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way,” he retorted. “I’m trying to answer you as honestly as possible. Like a man.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I understand, son. Believe me, I do.” He glanced over at Ben to gauge his reaction, but found himself gazing into nothing but memories. He recalled the way Evelyn had looked when he used to walk her to school and how she’d tilt her head a certain way when she was listening hard or concentrating on a problem. The way she’d looked the summer she’d turned sixteen and he’d suddenly realized that his feelings for her had moved beyond mere friendship, and that he’d never wanted to look at another girl for the rest of his life.

  Perhaps that was it?

  “I think I knew Evelyn was the one when I realized no other girl mattered to me,” he said simply. “I think that was when your mother was sixteen or so.”

  “That’s when you knew you were in love?”

  Jay hated to categorize the complexities of a relationship into one simple moment. Though he’d heard of love at first sight, he’d always thought it was a bit too f
anciful for his tastes. “That was when I knew I wanted to be in love with her,” he allowed. “Falling in love is a complicated thing.”

  “Sounds like it.” Ben shifted, allowing Jay to get a real good look at his scowl. “Daed, you’re not helping much.”

  Only by biting the inside of his cheek could Jay keep a straight face. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, it’s hard to compare my relationship with your mother with the way most people meet and date. We had been friends for years. Why don’t you tell me what has you thinking about love tonight?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Ah.” He’d learned over time not to push his eldest.

  “Okay. Even though I have only known Tricia a week, I think there’s something between her and me.”

  “A week isn’t very long.”

  “Don’t forget that I did meet her two months ago. I talked to her quite a bit when we came out to look at the farm.”

  “Ah.” Jay refrained from pointing out that that still wasn’t much time.

  Ben sighed. “But maybe I simply think she’s pretty.”

  Jay thought of a dozen reasons for Ben not to do anything he might regret but he elected not to say a word. Evelyn would’ve said something, of course. Though she hadn’t been especially forceful in nature, she was thoughtful and very sweet. She’d doted on her boys and they’d loved her attention.

  But that was part of the problem. She wasn’t there.

  With an impatient grunt, Ben said, “Daed, aren’t ya going to say anything? Aren’t ya going to offer me any advice?”

  “Not tonight,” he said as he got to his feet. He still wasn’t exactly tired but he was feeling particularly old. “If you still are interested in Tricia in two weeks, we’ll talk then.”

  “Why do I have to wait two weeks?”

  “Because then you’ll know whether it’s her pretty face or her pretty mind that has caught your attention.”

  “Pretty mind?”

  “I’m a farmer, son, not a poet. If you want better words you’re going to have to seek them someplace else.” With a wink, he added, “I heard Michael Knoxx moved here. Since he’s used to giving speeches the whole world over, I’m sure he will know what to tell you. Next time you see him, ask away.”

  “Good to know,” Ben said sarcastically. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he said, “Hey, Daed?”

  “Jah?”

  “You going to be able to sleep tonight?”

  “I don’t know. See you in the morning, Ben.”

  “Gut naught, Daed.” Ben’s voice was filled with disappointment and worry.

  Jay was sorry for that, but he knew he simply wasn’t able to pretend to be okay in front of Mark or Ben anymore. With William, he would put up a front, but not his two oldest.

  When Jay entered their attic room, he tried to be thankful for the comfortable linens on the twin bed, tried to concentrate on the soft snores coming from his youngest. But all he could really think about was how much he missed his king-sized bed, with all its room to spread out and stretch.

  And how much more he missed the person he used to share it with.

  BEVERLY OVERHOLT KEPT TO the shadows of the kitchen while Ben Hilty gazed out into the foliage for a few more minutes after his father left, before at last heading upstairs.

  Then, and only then, did she carefully close the kitchen window, which had been cracked open just enough to allow her to hear every bit of the men’s private conversation.

  When Jay had been sitting alone outside, she’d left the window open, feeling there was no need to disrupt him and every need to enjoy the fresh breeze wafting inside. When Ben had arrived, she’d had every intention of closing the window, but then she’d heard Ben ask about his mother and she’d sensed that even the slightest disruption would be reason enough to end the conversation.

  From the time they’d arrived, Beverly had had a feeling that the Hiltys were a group of four lonely souls adrift without their anchor. It was apparent in the way William ate only cornflakes for breakfast because that was what his mother had served him, and in the way that Mark smiled a little too quickly, acted a little too easygoing, as if he was afraid to cause more pain to his already pained family. She’d noticed Ben’s restlessness and Jay’s determination to pretend that all was well, too.

  And it all broke her heart.

  But now she knew just a little too much about one of her guests’ love life . . . and it just so happened to have a whole lot to do with her own niece. If Tricia had merely been visiting with her family, Beverly would have been tempted to sneak over to her room and tell her that she’d made quite an impression on Ben! But now that Tricia was more or less under her care and working at the inn, Beverly decided that it would be much better to simply let things happen between the two of them as they would.

  As long as Tricia remembered to guard her heart.

  Beverly knew from experience that trusting a man too quickly could lead to heartache. After all, three years ago she’d learned that her fiancé, Marvin, had been cheating on her with her best friend. If two people she’d known so well could betray her so easily, there was no telling what could happen to Tricia if she let down her guard too fast.

  She was just about to consider the best way to counsel Tricia when she remembered what had happened the last time she’d stuck her nose into another couple’s romance.

  It wasn’t that long ago that Michael Knoxx had been her guest for a few weeks while he’d been recovering from surgery. During this time, he’d developed a relationship with Penny, one of Beverly’s employees. When Beverly had seen the two of them holding hands, she’d overreacted and had made quite a mess of things. Eric, the actual owner of the inn, had given her a stern talking-to, as had Michael. And because she’d known that both men were right and she’d made an error in judgment, Beverly had promptly apologized.

  She’d also chosen to use that experience as a learning opportunity.

  Which meant that she really shouldn’t stick her nose into something that wasn’t her business. Yet. But all bets were off if she became aware of Tricia being in danger of getting her feelings hurt. If that happened? Well, she would do whatever it took to make sure Tricia didn’t make the same mistakes she had.

  Chapter 3

  Emma, how is it that you have three girls and a part-time job but you still manage to get everywhere ten minutes early?” Dorrie Beachy asked as she slipped into their booth at Yoder’s Restaurant.

  “I don’t know,” Emma said with a tight smile, though actually she was pretty sure she did. Dorrie had a loving husband who liked to spend time with her. Emma knew if Sanford was still in her life, she’d likely be running late a lot more often. “Don’t worry about it, though. I haven’t been waiting long.”

  After looking at her a bit more closely, Dorrie turned her mug right-side-up when the server headed their way, signaling her need for coffee. “Have you ordered pie yet?”

  “Not yet. I was waiting for you. Do you know what kind you want today?”

  “Key lime,” Dorrie said, smiling at the server as she poured coffee into her cup. “What about you, Emma?”

  “Chocolate.”

  After the server left, Dorrie narrowed her eyes. “You want chocolate? Now I know something is wrong. Start talking.”

  “Dorrie, this fascination you have about matching pies to moods needs to stop.”

  “Why should it? It always rings true. When you’re happy, you choose coconut cream. When you’re sad, you pick a berry pie. And when you’re especially troubled, you ask for chocolate.”

  “I don’t do that.”

  “Oh, yes you do. Every single time.” After tasting her coffee, carefully adding another bit of cream, then stirring with the same kind of care Emma figured gourmet chefs put into fancy dishes, Dorrie leaned forward. “What’s wrong? Are you worried about Frankie?”

  “My beagle? Nee.”

  “You sure? I heard he got loose again two days ago.”

  “He did. But he
’s home safe. And none the worse for the wear.”

  “So what is it?”

  “Dorrie, we are meeting to plan what to make for our booth for the school fund-raiser. We did not meet to discuss my life.”

  “Ah. So you’re troubled by your life. I know the girls are good. And Frankie is gut, too. So that only leaves you. What’s wrong, Emma? Are you finally lonely?”

  Finally lonely?

  There was no “finally.” She’d been lonely for years now, which was quite an accomplishment considering she was never in a room by herself.

  Immediately, tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked at them furiously and told herself that she was simply frustrated by Dorrie’s rudeness. Not that her longtime girlfriend might have hit the nail on the head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Dorrie. Stop pestering me.”

  “I won’t stop,” she said quietly as their server placed their pie in front of them, each heaped high with freshly whipped cream. “Someone has to be completely honest with you.”

  She was wrong, though. The trouble was that her two sisters, their spouses, her parents, and even Sanford’s parents were completely honest with her, too. They didn’t have the slightest bit of trouble letting her know that they expected her to always, always, always miss Sanford. And while she was grateful for their love and concern—and for the fact that they all lived nearby—she wasn’t as grateful about their constant need to give her advice, or their unwillingness to let her move forward. After all, it had been three years since Sanford had died of congestive heart failure.

  Three long years.

  “I canna speak about this now. And certainly not here, in the middle of Yoder’s.”

  Dorrie shrugged. “The Lord picks the right time, dear.”

  “He did not pick this time. You did.” And because she was so irritated, Emma shoved a too-big bite of chocolate pie in her mouth. As the decadent mixture of dark chocolate and whipped cream hit her taste buds, she slowly began to feel a little measure of calm.