Emma felt her throat tighten as she suddenly understood her mother-in-law’s concerns. “Of course I do, Rachel! I love you and Samuel, and the girls do, too.” When she saw that Rachel, too, was trying to hold back her tears, she added softly, “Lena, Mandy, and Annie will always be your grandchildren. They’ll also always be Sanford’s daughters. I want them to know you both. I want them to grow up hearing stories about their father. Only you two can help me do that.” Aware that a tear was now slipping down her cheek, she reached for Rachel’s hand. “I promise, you will always have a special place in our hearts. That hasn’t changed.”
“Our feelings haven’t changed, either,” Samuel said. “I think we can make this work.”
“I think so, too,” Rachel said as she clutched Emma’s hand. Then, with a sigh, she smiled. “I promise, I am happy for you both.”
Emma had never expected such words to come out of her mother-in-law’s mouth. “Thank you for saying that.”
“It’s the truth,” Samuel said. “I miss Sanford. I miss him every day. But no amount of prayer or tears is going to bring him back.”
“As hard as it is to admit it, we need to move forward,” Rachel murmured.
Samuel nodded. “Rachel and I have been talking.” Looking at his wife fondly, he said, “She and I have been married for forty years. I can’t imagine what life would have been like if one of us had lost the other. I do know that I would never have wanted my wife to spend the majority of her life alone if I had passed on to heaven thirty years ago.”
“Plus, those kinner need two parents,” Rachel said. “They are a handful.”
“Would you like to join us?” Emma asked, repeating Jay’s earlier offer.
Rachel looked at the empty seats, her eyes cloudy with what Emma recognized as a mixture of hope and hesitation. Emma had felt the same thing when she’d first brought over that meal to Jay’s farm but wound up staying several hours.
“You really wouldn’t mind?” Rachel asked.
“I would be sad if you didn’t want to join us.”
“Well, since you have so much pizza laid out, I think sharing it would be the least we could do,” Samuel said. “Someone’s eyes were a little too big, I think.”
“Come sit by William and me, Dawdi,” Lena said. “William has kittens. He can tell you all about them.”
Samuel winked at Emma. “I was just thinking that I needed to hear about some kittens. Move over, Lena, and hand me one of those paper plates, too.”
As Rachel took the chair next to Annie and reached for a slice of cheese pizza, Emma met Jay’s gaze. His eyes were filled with patience and understanding, making her realize that she wasn’t simply feeling hope; it was something far stronger.
She had just fallen in love for the second time in her life. That was surprising enough in and of itself.
What was even more miraculous was that she didn’t feel a single drop of guilt about it.
Chapter 24
Today was the day.
A large white tent stood erect in the back of the Orange Blossom Inn. Inside the voluminous structure lay at least twenty tables and four times that many chairs. The tables, chairs, and even the plywood floor were painted white.
And now, some of Beverly’s friends were in the lodging business, too. Winnie and Sadie had graciously taken in some of Tricia’s and Ben’s relatives. Even the Kaufmann family had opened their spacious home. In fact, it now served as a home base for Edward and Beverly’s other siblings and their parents. Other guests from Charm and Walnut Creek were staying at local hotels and inns. It seemed an October wedding in Sarasota, Florida, was an excellent excuse for a weekend getaway.
Or maybe it was the chance to see two young people who had overcome their share of hardships celebrate a most glorious day.
Standing in her kitchen at five in the morning, Beverly wondered how it was possible to feel so tired. And then she recalled just how frenetic the last week had been. She had been entertaining relatives, soothing Tricia’s nerves, cooking every spare minute in between . . . and making the most glorious cake.
She’d been working on it for three days now. It was five layers, filled with an orange ganache, and iced with thick buttercream frosting. She’d also made delicate white-chocolate leaves and arranged them on the top around a small bouquet of real, pale orange roses. It was the prettiest cake she’d ever made and it was her gift to Tricia, her way of letting her niece know that she loved her and was genuinely happy for her, too.
But all the cooking and wedding preparations weren’t the only cause of her jangling nerves. No, the cause of that had much to do with the man who had arrived yesterday afternoon and been given the best room in the inn.
Eric Wagler—her boss, her friend, her pen pal, her support system—had returned.
She’d known he was coming to the wedding, of course. He’d promised he would, even if his house still hadn’t sold. And she’d been slowly learning that Eric kept his promises. No matter what.
Her hands shook as she poured herself another cup of coffee and attempted to tell herself that the trembling had everything to do with too much caffeine consumption. It didn’t take but a moment to realize that excuse was a fantasy, for sure.
They’d all been sitting in the living room last night—Tricia and Ben, Jay Hilty, Edward and Kathleen. Frank and Ginny Kaufmann had been there, too, along with Leona and Zack Kaufmann. They’d been laughing at a story Kathleen had told about Tricia when she was a little girl. It seemed sweet, impetuous, energetic Tricia had been fond of mice and was constantly trying to save them.
Since mice and barns were not necessarily a good combination, their barn cats were kept very busy. But one of the barn cats had the unfortunate habit of always, always bringing her catch directly to Tricia. No matter where she was or how the other family members might have praised the cat. And every time, Tricia would squeal and run and cry and insist on a mouse funeral.
“Every. Single. Time,” her older sister Kate had said as they’d all laughed.
“Tricia, what are we going to do with our kitten?” Ben asked.
“Hope it’s lazy,” Kate had said.
Which, of course, had made all of them erupt into even more gales of laughter. Beverly had started crying, she was laughing so hard.
And that was the scene Eric had walked into.
“Eric!” Tricia had said before running over and giving him a welcome hug. “You’re just in time to save me.”
He’d tossed his green canvas duffel on the ground, cast a concerned glance Beverly’s way, then wrapped his arms around Tricia. “Save you? My favorite bride-to-be? What’s going on?”
Pulling away, she smiled at Ben and then at her parents. “I’m getting teased about my, um, childish love for mice.”
Eric had thrown back his head and laughed like it was the best thing he’d heard in a year. “This is why I couldn’t wait to return,” he declared. “I missed this place.”
Beverly stepped closer to him. “Everyone, this is Eric. Eric Wagler. He’s my . . . uh, he’s my boss.”
Almost immediately, Eric’s relaxed smile and look of happiness had vanished, replaced by a shadowed look of concern and then disappointment.
Beverly had known right then and there that it had been a mistake to refer to him as only her boss. He was so much more to her than that. He’d become her friend and confidant, her voice of reason and best encourager.
But in her haste to classify him easily, she’d hurt his feelings.
Now, the next morning, Beverly was wondering how she was ever going to make things right. How did a woman fix a clumsy mistake like that? Holding her cup of coffee, she stared hard at the cake and tried to form the right apology to Eric.
“Hey.” His deep voice carried across the room and, just like it did over the phone, gave her a little shiver.
She’d been so consumed with her regrets that she hadn’t heard him enter the room. Of course. Because it seemed she was destined to be perpetually a
wkward around him.
She quickly set her mug down on the counter. “Gut matin, Eric,” she said, trying not to notice how handsome he looked. His dark hair still seemed to be damp from his shower, and he had put on aftershave. It smelled fresh and tangy and so very appealing.
Too appealing.
“Would, um, would you like some kaffi?” Mentally, she berated herself again. Could she be any more apprehensive? Her use of Deutsch was telling, for sure. She used it with him whenever she was nervous or on edge. In today’s case, she was both.
His brown eyes remained steady on her. “Yeah. Coffee is good.”
She turned to get a cup from the cupboard but he reached it first. “I’m good, Bev,” he said quietly. “You know you don’t have to wait on me.”
“I’m not waiting. I was simply, um . . . trying to make you feel welcome.” Of course, the moment she said that, she wished she could take it back. Could she sound any more distant?
His eyes narrowed. “Because I’m your boss?”
His words sounded bitter though his tone was mild. She needed to fix this.
“Eric, I’m sorry,” she said in a rush. “Of course, you’re much more than simply my boss. We’re friends. Of course we are.”
“It didn’t sound like that last night. I walked into a roomful of laughter and a hug from Tricia but you made me feel like I was about as welcome as a case of the flu.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” She hated that whenever he was around she became a person she was definitely not proud of. “I don’t know why I told everyone you were my boss.”
He set down his cup and turned to her. “I never want to be treated like your boss, Bev,” he said quietly as he approached her. “I thought we’d gotten through all that.”
“We have.” She swallowed as he drew to a stop barely a foot away.
“Are you sure? Or is there something you’re confused about?”
“I’m not confused. I mean, we talk to each other all the time.”
“Then why are you keeping me at a distance? Why didn’t you tell everyone I was your friend? Your very good friend?”
Because she didn’t trust their relationship. Because she wasn’t completely positive that he wouldn’t still change his mind about her and hurt her badly. Because she was thirty-four years old and unable to get over a hurt that it seemed anyone else could have moved on from.
Because he smelled really good and at the moment seemed to be staring at her lips.
But instead of saying any of that, she lied. “I don’t know.”
He blinked. Then, to both her relief and disappointment, he took a step back. “Oh, okay. Thanks for explaining that to me. I feel a lot better now.”
“Eric, I’m sorry.” She lifted a hand. Then, as she realized that she’d been just about to press it to his chest, she dropped it back down by her side. And felt her cheeks heat.
He inhaled and a new glint appeared in his eyes. “You know what? It’s okay.” A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “Don’t worry about it. So, tell me about the day’s schedule.”
She was so relieved to be talking about something else, she practically chirped. “I can do that. Let’s see . . . the wedding starts at nine this morning.”
“And when will it be over?”
“Around noon or so.”
“So we’ll be sitting together for three hours?”
Her pulse started racing again. “Jah. It’s the way of an old order Amish wedding. It’s customary for three preachers to speak.”
“All in Pennsylvania Dutch. It’s going to be a long morning.” He smiled again. “Don’t be surprised if I start passing you notes.”
She was as taken aback by his teasing as she was by how charmed she realized she’d be if he actually did something like that. “It is a long service, but don’t worry, you won’t be expected to be there for the whole thing.”
“Of course I’m going to be by your side for the whole thing. What would Tricia think?”
She was starting to think that they were talking about more than just Tricia’s wedding. “If you’d like, I could simply bring you in for the important parts. It’s customary for folks who put on the wedding to come and go. A wedding is a part of our lives, you know. It isn’t meant to take over everything.” Of course, as she said the words she couldn’t help but smile. Her little speech was in direct contrast to what had been happening; the wedding had taken over her life for weeks.
“Let’s play it by ear, okay?”
Again came the little tingle of awareness she felt every time he gazed at her directly. Suddenly tongue-tied, she simply nodded her head.
Looking satisfied, he glanced at the clock. “It’s now five thirty. What do you want to do first?”
“I’ll make you some breakfast. Then, how about we start putting out the tablecloths and setting the tables? After that we can start gathering all the food.”
“What do you mean, ‘start gathering all the food’?”
“Oh, Eric. You have no idea. I’ve got plates and dishes stashed all over this town. It’s going to be a wonder if I can find it all.”
He chuckled. “I’ll help you gather all you want, Bev. Just tell me where to go and I’ll do it.”
The tension between them had dissipated and she was so, so relieved. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” After taking another sip of coffee, he asked, “You got any cereal?”
“I do. I have a brand-new box of Cheerios just for you.”
“I’ll have a quick bowl of cereal, then start on those tables.”
“Thank you for helping.”
“No worries. I may be your boss, but today you are in charge, Bev.”
His warm expression conveyed everything they’d been hinting around for the last few minutes. There was more to them than a simple working relationship. A whole lot more. It made her giddy and a little flustered. Therefore, she said the only thing she could say. “All righty, then. Eat your cereal, then roll up your sleeves. The next four hours are going to be the fastest of your life.”
He winked. “Yes, ma’am.”
Oh, that wink. “I’m just going to, ah, go get something from my room that I forgot. I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time, Beverly. I’ll still be here when you get back.”
And that, of course, was what she was afraid of.
Now that they were together again instead of miles away from each other, Beverly knew it was going to be even harder to ignore her feelings for him. Yes, he was her friend. And yes, he was also her boss. But he was also becoming something else to her—almost her secret crush.
Chapter 25
Jay should have realized that it didn’t matter how many times he practiced his father-son speech or how many times he prayed for strength and guidance, nothing could completely prepare him for the day his son got married.
He’d woken up at four, said his prayers, and quietly gone about the morning chores: gathering eggs, feeding the cat and kittens, watering the small garden they’d recently planted next to the house. And as he’d done so, he’d wondered where the time had gone. It seemed like Ben had just been a shy boy starting school, then an irritable teenager fending off two younger brothers, and, most recently, a handsome young man with a look of despair in his eyes as he tried to push his grief to one side in order to comfort his brothers.
Through it all, Jay had been proud of him. He’d told him that, too. He’d also made sure Ben had known he was loved.
But this day? This day called for something special to say about his son. He simply didn’t know how to begin. After waking up William and Mark and serving them their breakfast, Jay had sent them back to their rooms to get ready so he could concentrate on what he wanted to say to Ben.
Time was running out and it was making him a nervous wreck.
Just then, Ben entered the kitchen. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he offered to help with the chores.
“Nee, Ben. You have
a seat. I, um, made you breakfast.”
As Ben sat and ate, Jay couldn’t help but notice that his eldest was looking as cool as a cucumber. Almost as if he didn’t have a care in the world. How could that be? Had the Lord seen fit to simply lay all the burdens and worries on Jay’s shoulders?
“More coffee?” he said when Ben’s plate was almost empty.
“I’m good, Daed.”
Jay looked at the remains of the breakfast he’d made for him. “More eggs? Piece of sausage?”
“No, thanks. I can’t eat another bite.”
“Oh.”
Ben glanced at him curiously before letting his gaze stray to the pile of dishes on the counter. “I’ll help you with the dishes. I don’t know where William and Mark are.”
“I think they’re upstairs getting ready.” Actually, Jay knew they were upstairs staying out of the way. Because he’d asked them to give him some time alone with Ben.
Ben looked irritated. “They shouldn’t have left us with the dishes. It’s Will’s turn to do them, too. Want me to go talk to him for you?”
“Nee.”
“Daed,” he retorted impatiently, “William is not gonna start doing what he’s supposed to if you don’t—”
“I asked him and Mark to give us some time alone together.”
Wariness filled his eyes. “Why?”
“Because it’s your wedding day, son. We need to talk.”
Ben stared at him like an animal caught in a trap. “What do you want to talk about?”
Here it was. His time to impart something worthwhile. But instead of finally saying everything he needed to, Jay found himself unbuttoning his collar. And then he flushed. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to begin. I feel a little awkward, I guess.”
Ben looked alarmed. “Listen, uh, Daed. This talk of yours doesn’t have anything to do with wedding nights, does it? ’Cause, um, well, I think we’re going to be just fine.”
Jay’s mind went blank. “What?”
Ben stared at him. “Tricia and I will be fine, I promise. I don’t need your advice on the matter. Really.”
It took a moment for Ben’s point to sink in. “Oh! Oh, um, no. I wasna thinking about that.” Could a grown man ever be more embarrassed? He wasn’t sure. “Not that I don’t want to talk about such things,” he said in a rush. “I mean, if you have any questions . . . I’m sure I could answer them.”
A Wedding at the Orange Blossom Inn Page 20