Lena waited for the Hooleys’ expressions to register their disgust and disapproval. During the next few moments of silence, however, she saw compassion on their faces rather than any sign that they, too, wanted to be rid of her.
“What about Josiah’s family? Would they help ya?” Ben asked as he passed her the biscuits.
“They died in a buggy wreck. Josiah and Savilla were at their grandparents’ house that day—not even in school yet—so that’s who raised them.”
“Ach, what a nasty way to go,” Miriam murmured. “And what a shock to those poor children.”
“That might explain why Josiah’s afraid to get too attached to ya,” Ben remarked pensively. “Maybe he believes the folks he loves will get snatched away like his parents did.”
Lena blinked. Ben’s perspective on Josiah’s personality made a lot of sense. “Their dawdi died years ago, and their mammi passed last winter, so he and his sister stayed on the farm to run their catering business,” she explained. “Josiah was so excited when he saw the ad for the Higher Ground colony—he refuses to listen to anything negative about Hiram Knepp. But I’m glad you’ve told us the truth.”
“We couldn’t let ya go to Higher Ground with such high hopes, knowin’ how Hiram’s led so many folks astray with his lies,” Ben explained. “He tried to force Miriam to marry him—”
“And he thought he could buy the Sweet Seasons building on the sly, so he could take my café away from me,” Miriam chimed in with a shake of her head. “Nora and Luke sent him packin’ a couple of months ago when he was playin’ one against the other with his lies, too. Ya can’t believe anything he says.”
Once again Lena felt grateful to be staying with such generous people. When she bit into her biscuit, it was surprisingly light and puffy, with a sweet crunchiness of sunflower seeds and raisins. “This is tasty! I’ve never eaten a biscuit with stuff in it.”
Miriam chuckled. “Every now and again I try new recipes. These are angel biscuits, made with yeast and—”
The back door burst open and two apple-cheeked children rushed inside. “Mammi and Dawdi!” the girl cried as she hugged Ben and Miriam.
“We’re eating breakfast with you because the grownups are sleeping in,” her little brother exclaimed.
“And we just happen to have something tasty for you kids,” Ben said as he squeezed them playfully. “This is our new friend, Lena Esh. Lena, these wild monkeys belong to Rhoda and Andy—the newlyweds,” he added with a smile. “Taylor is ten and Brett’s eight.”
“Almost nine,” the boy piped up. “You’re gonna have a baby!”
“I am,” Lena replied, wondering what path this conversation might take. The kids still sounded English, yet they appeared comfortable wearing Plain clothing. They seemed in awe of her condition, rather than inclined to ask embarrassing questions.
“Aunt Rachel’s baby is so cute,” Taylor said as she hung up their coats. “We’ve told Mamm and Dat we want a baby brother or sister for Christmas, but I doubt it’ll happen that fast.”
“I suspect you’re right about that,” Miriam said as she steered them toward chairs near Ben. “Besides baked oatmeal and biscuits, I’ve got bread for toast—”
“Toast with peanut butter and jelly, please,” Taylor said.
“And a banana,” Brett added as he clambered into his chair.
“Monkey food for monkeys,” Ben teased.
Miriam glanced at the giggling kids as she sliced some bread. “God’s waitin’ to hear from ya before ya eat, remember.”
The two children bowed their heads, assuming an angelic air that Lena found charming. As she listened to their talk about changing from public school to Teacher Alberta’s Plain schoolroom, she got another glimpse of Willow Ridge from a newcomer’s viewpoint.
By the time they were cleaning up the breakfast dishes, Nora had arrived with her fiancé Luke, her daughter Millie, and Luke’s younger brother Ira. Millie, who was Lena’s age and redheaded like her mother, was engaged to Ira. Ben played checkers with Brett in the front room while he discussed his younger brothers’ week at their gristmill, making specialty flours and selling fresh eggs, as well as goat cheese their aunts made and butter from Bishop Tom Hostetler’s dairy.
Nora and Millie had brought a big macaroni and goat cheese casserole as their dinner contribution. Soon Miriam’s daughter Rachel came in with a pan of apple pie bars, followed by her blond husband Micah, who carried baby Amelia in a basket.
“Oh, here’s our new girl!” Miriam cooed. She took the basket while Rachel and Micah removed their coats. As though drawn by a magnet, Ben left his checkers game to greet his new granddaughter, and the kids crowded around her, too.
What a picture it made, with three generations smiling at tiny Amelia, nestled in Ben’s arms. Lena hoped with all her heart that someday her family would welcome her baby with such love. Soon after Rhoda and Andy arrived with Andy’s mother, Betty, the women began setting the table for dinner. Rebecca breezed in through the back door, joining the kitchen chatter as though she were a young Plain woman instead of a Web site designer. The delectable aroma of Rhoda’s oven-fried chicken mingled with the fragrance of Nora’s mac and cheese and the home-canned green beans Miriam was heating on the stove.
Lena felt a pang of homesickness. Aunt Clara hadn’t cooked much, so the loaded table—and all the folks who were taking seats around it—carried her back to happier times and Sunday dinners her extended family had shared at home.
“Is Josiah in Higher Ground checking out the supper club?” Rhoda asked after they’d given thanks. “I’m anxious to hear about it.”
Lena took two crisp chicken tenderloins and passed the platter to Rebecca. “I hope he’s headed back to Bloomfield instead of signing on with Hiram,” she replied. “He didn’t see a building for a new restaurant while he was in Higher Ground.”
Rebecca shook her head doubtfully. “I was hoping Josiah would cook a supper shift at Mamma’s place.”
“He and I have chatted about that,” Ben remarked, smiling at Lena from the head of the table. “I’d like to see him take on that challenge, too. It would be gut for a lot of us.”
“This could be a way to relieve Miriam of working so many hours, too,” Andy Leitner put in. He was a nice-looking fellow with deep brown eyes who hadn’t let his medical training stand in the way of becoming Amish.
“What kind of cooking does Josiah do?” Millie asked. She smiled at Lena from across the table. “I’ve never heard of a Plain fellow being a cook.”
Lena felt the gazes of all fifteen people around the table, sensing they were sincerely interested in Josiah’s grilling rather than skeptical of it. “He makes the best pulled pork you’ve ever eaten. Roasts whole hogs, too, but he’s also gut with chicken and ribs. I hope he’ll convince his sister Savilla to return to Willow Ridge with him because she makes the side dishes. They’re quite a team.”
“Now that sounds like gut eating!” Ira said.
“And nobody else in this area offers that sort of meal,” Luke remarked. “Folks who stick to something they do really well—like Miriam baking and Nora bringing so many different crafts into her shop—can make gut money at it here. Customers pay more than I ever figured on for the specialty grains and cage-free eggs we sell at the mill.”
“And everyone’s shop attracts customers who visit everyone else’s,” Nora chimed in, “Once folks get to Willow Ridge, they spend most of a day shopping in our stores.”
Lena nodded, her hopes rising. In Bloomfield, Josiah and Savilla had to travel to the events they catered. Cooking in one place, where their customers came to them, would save them a lot of road time and effort.
Across the table, Millie lit up like a lamp. “What if we asked Josiah to cook your wedding feast, Mamma?” she asked excitedly. “It would be something different from the traditional chicken roast.”
“That sounds awesome!” Ira replied. “You broke the mold by joining the Mennonites, so why not serve a diff
erent sort of dinner?”
Nora’s eyes widened. “I’m no cook,” she teased, “so I was depending on Miriam and the usual helpers to handle the meal. But if Josiah grilled, those ladies wouldn’t have to work so hard.”
“That might help Josiah decide whether he wants to set up his business here, too,” Ben pointed out. “He and Savilla would meet everybody for miles around—and if the guests leave a lot of food, they’ll know our folks don’t like his cooking before he commits.”
“Do you suppose Josiah and his sister could do that on such short notice?” Luke asked.
“We’re getting hitched a week from this Thursday,” Nora explained. “But that should give Henry Zook at the market plenty of time to get the meat ordered, along with the other food they would need.”
The baby began kicking inside Lena, picking up on her excitement. “I’ll call his cell and ask him. Maybe if Josiah knew he had a special event to cater, he’d warm up to the idea of settling here.”
“We’ll pay him whatever he wants to charge,” Luke insisted as he grinned at Nora. “The more I think about this idea, the more I like it.”
“So ya won’t want me to do anything for your wedding?”
The room got quiet as everyone took in Miriam’s plaintive expression. Lena thought the poor woman might cry because she wasn’t needed for the wedding preparations.
Rhoda grabbed her mother’s hand. “Nobody makes a wedding cake like you do, Mamma,” she said with a knowing smile at Nora.
“And the neighbor ladies are planning a pie frolic, so there will be lots of other desserts, too,” Rachel remarked.
Lena chuckled. “You make a gut point because I don’t think Savilla’s ever made a wedding cake.”
“That settles it,” Nora proclaimed. “I’m glad you spoke up, Miriam, because the cake you baked for Rhoda and Andy’s wedding was fabulous.”
Miriam shrugged modestly. “I love makin’ them,” she admitted, “and I’m happy that so many young folks are hitchin’ up and settlin’ down here. But we haven’t heard Josiah’s answer.”
Once again everyone gazed at Lena with a sense of expectation that lifted her spirits. “I’ll call him right now.”
“Our phone shanty’s behind the Sweet Seasons—and take your time with Josiah,” Miriam added. “I think he’ll be mighty glad to hear from ya.”
When Lena stepped outside, gray clouds hung low over the horizon, hinting at snow, yet she felt like a little girl who held a handful of colorful balloons. From the Hooleys’ lane she gazed at snow-blanketed fields dotted with dairy cows, sheep, and horses. Red barns added color to the otherwise snowy scene, and she yearned to call Willow Ridge her new home.
After Lena crossed the snow-packed blacktop and eased into the phone shanty, she stared at the phone. How could she convince Josiah to accept the opportunity Nora and the Hooleys were offering him? Although his cell was always in his pocket, Lena suspected he wouldn’t answer when he saw where this call was coming from. She tapped in Josiah’s number. His voice mail prompted her to leave a message.
“Josiah, you won’t believe it!” she began. “Nora’s asked you to cater her and Luke’s wedding a week from Thursday. Everybody wants to try your food—wants you and Savilla to set up your business here. Wouldn’t working at the Sweet Seasons be easier than hauling your cookers everywhere?” she added.
If she made this sound like a command performance, however, Josiah would turn a deaf ear. Lena closed her eyes, praying for the right words. “Why not give it a shot?” she murmured earnestly. “If this event doesn’t go the way you want—or if you and Savilla have a better idea for your catering business—it’s okay. You have to do this your way or it won’t work. I—I love you, Josiah. And I miss you something awful.”
Lena hung up, fearing she’d sounded desperate—and hoping Josiah didn’t think she was using this wedding to lure him back to her.
“This is bigger than you and me and the baby, Josiah,” she whispered as she hugged their unborn child. “It’s about taking your place in another part of God’s world, where you’ll do well—if you’ll only believe that.”
Josiah didn’t call her back, so Lena left the phone shanty. There was nothing to do but wait.
Chapter Five
Josiah waited for the incoming call to end and the voice mail number to appear on his cell phone screen. If it was Lena, he wasn’t sure he could resist the sound of her voice. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to abandon her the moment he heard her neediness and saw the disappointment in her blue eyes, and he regretted that. Maybe if he’d had a dat to show him how to be the man of a family . . . maybe if Dat and his mamm hadn’t been killed in that rig wreck, snatched away without any rhyme or reason, he wouldn’t be so afraid to love Lena. If he lost her, too . . .
Josiah finally tapped his phone screen and listened as Lena’s voice rose with excitement, telling him of a Willow Ridge wedding dinner before easing into that husky murmur that did crazy things to him.
I love you, Josiah. And I miss you something awful.
Why had Lena stuck with him so long, believing he could make something of himself? Josiah tucked his cell into his pocket. She’d probably used the Hooleys’ phone, which meant Ben or Miriam might hear his message if he called her back. So he didn’t.
“What was that all about?” Savilla demanded. She stood at the stove, warming a can of soup for their Sunday dinner. Her purple dress was faded and her face seemed pale beneath the black hair that was tucked under her kapp. “For a moment you lost that hangdog look you’ve had lately. Must’ve been Lena, huh?”
Josiah’s lips twitched. How did women figure out what he was caught up in—and how he should respond—before he knew? “You and I have been asked to cater a wedding dinner next week,” he replied. “I’m guessing we could use the kitchen of that café I told you about—”
“We’ve worked in worse places.”
“—and the whole town would probably come out for it,” Josiah continued in the most nonchalant tone he could muster. “We could run our business from there, too, once everybody gets a taste of our food. Miriam’s all for it, but Ben wants the details in writing. I just don’t know about that.”
Savilla planted a fist on her hip. “Fine and dandy, but what’ll we do with this farm and the animals? What’ll we say to the neighbors? And what’ll you tell that Knepp fellow?” she demanded. “Lots of questions have been hanging fire since you saw his ad, and I’ve not heard any answers!”
“You know, I’ve had enough of people telling me what to do,” Josiah retorted.
“Then make up your mind,” his sister shot back. “You suddenly have some new opportunities, and until you commit to one of them, Lena and I are left hanging. I don’t like feeling so betwixt and between, Josiah.”
“So marry Floyd Stoltzfus and your troubles will be over,” he blurted out, regretting his words even before they rang in the high-ceilinged kitchen.
As Savilla faced the stove again, her crestfallen expression made Josiah want to kick himself. Why did he smart off to everyone lately, wounding the two young women who loved and depended on him? Floyd had wanted to court Savilla for months, but why would his beautiful sister hitch up with a widower who was ten years her senior and had four rambunctious kids? Stoltzfus ran a sawmill and had all the personality of the sawdust that clung to his shaggy hair.
“That was a low blow. Sorry,” Josiah mumbled.
The color rose in Savilla’s cheeks. “Join the church and marry Lena and your troubles will be over,” she shot back. “Or at least your soul—and your baby—will have a future. If marrying Floyd would make you take charge of your life, Josiah, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Josiah went to the counter to slice some bread. He couldn’t expect Savilla to keep this old place running by herself, and he really didn’t want her to marry Floyd. “Okay, so let’s cater that wedding next week,” he suggested. “If our food’s a hit, we can sign on with Miriam to do a supper shift in her
café.”
“And if her husband tells us to move on? What then?”
“Maybe by then Knepp’s supper club will be built.”
“And what’ll we do about this farm?” Savilla repeated. “Considering the consequences of your snap decisions has never been your strong point, little brother.”
Josiah winced, knowing she was right. But if he put their property up for sale, who would buy it? The dingy paint in the kitchen was a minor detail compared to the deteriorating boards in the barn and the leaning pasture fences. He’d been too busy cooking the past few years to remedy the many problems of this poor old place.
“Let’s say we could sell the farm,” Josiah began cautiously. “Then we could probably afford a house in Willow Ridge. Meanwhile, the Hooleys have offered Lena their dawdi haus, and they were letting me stay in a spare bedroom—”
“Buying a house in a new town is a big step,” Savilla interrupted. “If the farm sells and then we can’t support ourselves in Willow Ridge—along with Lena and the baby—what’ll we do? If we stay here, at least we won’t have to worry about keeping a roof over our heads.”
Why did new opportunities present so many problems? Savilla was making valid points, however, and she wouldn’t let him pretend he had no responsibility for creating a new life—and for the mother of his child. Savilla and Lena expected him to be the man of this family, so why couldn’t he step up and do right by them?
“All right, here’s the deal,” Josiah stated, hoping to be done with this push and pull of conflicting feelings. “We’ll cook for that wedding. If Willow Ridge and the people there don’t appeal to you, we’ll come back to Bloomfield and keep on catering.”
Savilla ladled soup into two bowls, considering her response. “We’ll have a lot more work than we’ve been used to, serving supper five or six nights a week,” she mused aloud. “You and I can’t do that by ourselves, and Lena will have a baby to care for, so she won’t be helping us.”
Josiah considered the folks he’d observed while he’d eaten breakfast in the Sweet Seasons. “With Miriam having a baby at Christmastime, and one of her waitress daughters getting married a while back, we might have to scout the wedding crowd for help,” he replied as he set the bread on the table. “And I have a feeling that because Miriam wants a supper shift to succeed, she’ll help us find the folks we need. She’s a woman who makes gut things happen, you know?”
The Christmas Cradle Page 5