A Perfect Amish Romance

by Shelley Shepard Gray

She was wrong.

  He was currently a man of mystery, as confusing to her as the time she’d watched Star Trek with an English friend and had no idea who the creatures on the screen were.

  Furthermore, now, he was walking beside her, all confidence and assurance. She, on the other hand, was simply trying to catch her breath.

  After another minute or two, she let go of his arm so she could walk at a slower pace. Immediately, he slowed down, too. “Sorry, Kay. I’ll slow down.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should take his arm again and decided against it. But she did want to know what he was thinking. “Aaron, what just happened?”

  “That, Kayla, was me helping you out.”

  “ ‘Helping’?”

  “Jah. And now you may say thank you.”

  She chuckled. “Thank you. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you. It was like you appeared out of the blue.”

  “I felt the same way when I spied you.” He grinned. “And thank goodness I did, too. It didn’t look like your conversation with those women was going very well.”

  “It wasn’t. They’re catty busybodies.” Thinking back to how ornery she’d been, she added, “I’m afraid I wasn’t being very nice, either.”

  “Now I’m really glad that God thrust us together this afternoon.”

  She was, too. “Not that it matters, but I have no idea where we’re going.”

  “That’s because I haven’t told you.”

  “You’re certainly being rather cryptic.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks to you, I actually know what that means.” Looking mischievous, he added, “For the record, I’m not being cryptic.” He turned toward a wooded path. “I wasn’t sure where to take you. Until I saw this trail.”

  Their steps were slower now, and the air felt a little chillier, now that much of the sunlight was blocked by branches. She looked around. It was pretty, to be sure. But that said, Kayla couldn’t imagine why he wanted to take her there. “Do you walk over here often?” she asked. Maybe there was a special rock or something he wanted to show her?

  “Nee. I haven’t walked here in years.” He lifted up a scraggly branch so she could crouch underneath it. “It looks about how I remember it.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Private.” He stopped suddenly. “I’m starting to feel like there’s not many places in Berlin for us to be completely alone. Your aunt Pat’s workroom, your house… and here.”

  There was a new look in his eyes. A warmth that she’d used to pretend she saw in Levi’s but probably never actually had. Feeling tentative, she said, “Is there a reason you need privacy right now?”

  “Oh, yes. You see, I’ve decided to not wait any longer for this.”

  She stood dumbly as he turned to her, pulled her up against him, and kissed her. He placed his hands on her cheeks, turned her jaw slightly, and then proceeded to kiss her like he was a starving man and she was a double-decker club sandwich.

  All she seemed to be able to do was hold on to his shoulders and kiss him back. She wasn’t aware of anything else. She could even say he kissed her senseless. But since she felt as if every one of her five senses was on fire, that was far from true.

  She’d now kissed two men. Levi and Aaron. And if she had known what a kiss could truly be like? Well, she might not have been so crushed about Levi’s departure all those years ago. Some things were simply beyond compare.

  twenty-three

  • RULE #23 •

  If you can’t be positive, pretend to be. No one likes a grumpy librarian.

  Sometimes Sunday supper went on far too long. Tonight, surrounded by his nosy family and all of their knowing glances, Aaron decided this was one of the longest suppers he’d had in years.

  It didn’t help that the meal was Hawaiian Chicken with rice and stir-fried broccoli. He wasn’t a fan of the dish at all. In his mind, chicken should only be grilled, fried, or baked. Not sautéed in a sweet sauce with a bunch of pineapple and green peppers thrown in.

  “Aaron, is there any specific reason why you’re glaring at your plate?” Mamm asked. “The rest of us are almost done, but you’ve hardly eaten a bite.”

  He was just going to say it. “I don’t care for this meal.”

  Tiny looked affronted, which was probably because she’d made half of it. “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. There’s something about the sauce that doesn’t sit well with me.” And since he was spouting off his opinions, he added, “I’m sorry, but I’ve never liked this meal.”

  “I like it,” Jack said. “I think it’s fine.”

  “Danke, Jack,” Mamm said.

  Aaron glared when his brother grinned at him. Jack was a constant burr on his side, that was for sure.

  “You should have told me about your feelings, Aaron,” Mamm said. “I wouldn’t have made you eat it all this time.”

  “Jah, you wouldn’t have had to suffer through it for years and years,” Tiny added, like he had intentionally tried to upset her.

  “Of course I wasn’t going to say anything. I’m grateful for the meal.” He looked over at his sister. “And for the hands that made it.”

  Tiny rolled her eyes.

  “You might be grateful, but you’ve hardly eaten a bit of it,” Mamm said. “You are wasting food.”

  Great. This was exactly what he got for spouting off opinions. “Fine. I’ll eat more of it.” He was twenty-one years old. Why was he having to defend himself, anyway? He glanced at his father, half expecting him to reprimand him for speaking his mind. But instead, Daed only looked amused.

  “Why are you smiling, Thomas?” Mamm asked.

  “No reason, Violet.” He picked up his fork. “I’m eating my food. I promise.”

  “Argh.” Turning to his little sister and softening her tone, Mamm said, “At least you’re eating, Becca. You’re being a gut girl.”

  Becca picked up a piece of broccoli and popped it in her mouth.

  Aaron speared a piece of chicken and chewed.

  “I happen to think that the real problem isn’t this supper at all,” Tiny said. “I think it has to do with Kayla Kauffman.”

  “We do not need to bring Kayla into this conversation just because you wish I was eating your sweet yet spicy chicken.”

  “My chicken is gut, but even if it was bad, it wouldn’t have made you so grumpy. I think that has something to do with a certain someone who you were walking with today.”

  If he were fifteen years younger, he’d seriously think about kicking Tiny’s shin so she’d be quiet. “Again, do not bring up Kayla.”

  “Why not?” Jack asked. “I mean, everyone saw you walking with her. You were gone for a long time, too. What did the two of you do?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  “I’m in the dark. Who is Kayla Kauffman, and how do you two know each other?” their mother asked.

  Both Tiny and Jack looked at Aaron and smiled.

  “Kayla works at the sewing store on Main. We’ve ah, struck up a friendship. That’s all.”

  “Her name sounds familiar.” Mamm tapped a finger on the table. “Oh, I remember now. Her mother had a terrible cancer. She died just a few months after being diagnosed. The ladies in our church district brought her father a quilt.”

  “Jah, she told me about her mother’s death.”

  “That must mean you’ve gotten close.”

  “We have. I mean, we’re friends and all.”

  “So, you’re close friends.”

  Only his mother could make those four words sound like so much more. “Jah.”

  “Kayla is Aaron’s special close friend, Mamm,” Jack quipped, reaching over to Aaron’s plate to spear his largely untouched chicken breast.

  Aaron gritted his teeth. “Can we talk about something else now?”

  “I suppose we could, but I prefer to hear what’s going on,” Mamm said. “Aaron, are you courting her?”

  If he said no, he’d have to make sure they didn’t
find out about his tutoring. If he said yes, they’d wonder why they didn’t know. Suddenly, the memory of the way Kayla had felt in his arms rushed forth. He’d kissed her. He’d kissed her, and it had been wonderful.

  “Yes, I’m courting her. Kind of.”

  “Why haven’t you told us about this before now?” Daed asked. “She is Amish, right?”

  “Jah, she’s Amish.”

  “Good, because I don’t want you around the English any more than you already are at the furniture store.”

  Which was his father’s veiled reference to Tim. “Kayla is not English. She’s New Order Amish.”

  “Why have you been keeping her a secret?” Tiny said. “Is something wrong with her?”

  “Nee. She’s fine. Perfect.”

  “If you want to go courting, you should call on Beth,” Jack said. “She’s always liked you.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about you courting a girl we’ve never met,” Mamm murmured. “Your father and I would feel better if we knew her.”

  “I am not a boy. I’m a grown man and should be able to do what I want, within reason. And there is nothing wrong with Kayla Kauffman. She’s pretty, very kind, and smart. I would be blessed, indeed, if she liked me as much as I admire her.”

  And with that, the whole table grew silent. Even Jack put his fork down. Why had he leapt to her defense like he that?

  Daed pressed a napkin to his mouth. “She sounds like a wonderful girl—ah, woman. I hope we’ll all get a chance to meet her soon.”

  “I hope so, too,” Mamm added. “And, Aaron, you are right. It was wrong of me to pass judgment on a woman I hardly know. It was also wrong of us to tell you how to live your life or who you should fall in love with. It’s been my experience that love is a personal thing.” She looked down the table at Tiny. “Wouldn’t you say, Tiny?”

  “Jah.”

  “Speaking of Tiny, does anyone think we should ask her how Joel and his new hund is?” Jack asked.

  “Nee,” both Tiny and Aaron said at the same time.

  Jack held up his hands. “Sorry, I just thought I’d move the conversation along.”

  Just as Aaron was going to put Jack in his place, their father spoke. “Jack, you are a gut son, but you have a way of needling people that is going to get you into trouble one day. Mark my words, one day you are going to fall in love, and it’s going to change everything.”

  “Love won’t be like that for me.”

  “It will, Jack,” Mamm murmured. “I must admit that there’s a part of me that looks forward to the moment that happens, too.”

  “Me as well,” Tiny said. “I can’t wait to see what girl wraps you around her finger.”

  “When I do fall in love, I can promise that there aren’t going to be lots of surprises. Everything is going to go according to plan.”

  The whole table burst into laughter. Their parents, Aaron, Tiny… even Becca, who looked delighted to be a part of all the fun.

  The only family member not laughing was Jack. He simply looked befuddled.

  “Aaron, go to the kitchen and make yourself a sandwich,” Mamm said.

  “Nee, it’s okay.”

  “It is not.” With a small smile, she waved her hands. “Go on, now. Otherwise, you’ll be hungry all night, and there ain’t no reason for that.”

  “Danke,” he said as he got up and took his plate into the kitchen.

  When he opened the refrigerator and started hunting for turkey, the other members of his family started chatting again, and he realized that even though none of them was perfect, he didn’t ever want to be anywhere else.

  twenty-four

  • RULE #24 •

  Be sure to make your schedule as detailed as possible, just in case someone else has to fill in for you in a pinch.

  He was living his dream. Well, perhaps not his dream, exactly, but Aaron couldn’t deny that he was feeling a good amount of satisfaction as he looked around Zeiset’s Furniture. Everything was displayed neatly, the customers were being taken care of by Paul and Judy, and Mr. Zeiset was snug and warm in Pinecraft, Florida.

  For all intents and purposes, he was in charge and he hadn’t even had to take the GED test. He’d been so pleased when Mr. Zeiset had asked to speak to him first thing the other morning. After saying how pleased he was with Aaron’s work ethic and conscientious nature, Mr. Zeiset had told him he was going to be in charge of the store for the next month.

  It had been a wonderful conversation. Truly, something he’d been hoping and praying about for a long time. Now, he just had to run everything perfectly so Mr. Zeiset would give him that promotion.

  “Aaron, can you come over here?” Paul called out.

  Getting his head back on track and out of the clouds, he walked to the dining room area. “Jah, Paul?”

  “Aaron, Mr. Villas here is hoping to get this table to his house in Medina by the end of the week, but it looks like we are out of stock in the store.” Paul tapped both the SOLD sign and the price tag, obviously hoping Aaron noticed it was their most expensive table. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I can’t think of a reason why not.” Flipping through the pages on his clipboard, he scanned the inventory list for the warehouse. “Ah, here we are. Yes, we do have another table in stock. Delivery should be no problem.”

  The older man looked pleased as punch. “Really? That’s terrific. My wife is going to be so happy. Her whole family is coming to town this weekend. If you couldn’t get that table delivered, I would’ve had to go someplace else.” He ran a hand along the smooth wood. “I didn’t want to do that, though. You sell quality furniture here. Every piece is a work of art.”

  “Since many of our vendors are Amish, I can tell you that they treat each piece like a work of art, too. We’re proud to sell them at Zeiset’s.”

  Mr. Villas pulled out his cell phone. “I’m going to text my wife that our table situation is solved.” He paused. “That’s if you’re sure you can get that table to our house?”

  “I’m sure. You’ll be eating your supper on it Friday night.”

  “Excellent.” Mr. Villas beamed. “Thank you so much… Aaron, is it?”

  “Yes, sir. Aaron Coblentz.”

  Mr. Villas gave him a hardy handshake. “Good doing business with you, young man.”

  When the gentleman walked a few steps away and started texting, Paul edged closer. “Um, are you sure about this, Aaron? I didn’t think we had another table—”

  “I’m very sure. Go ahead and place the order and put Mr. Villas on the delivery schedule for Friday.” When Paul still looked hesitant, Aaron adopted a firmer tone. “Danke, Paul.”

  Paul nodded at last. “Let’s go sit down and fill out the order and set up a delivery time, Mr. Villas.”

  The next four hours passed like the wind. Aaron helped customers, unloaded boxes, and began scheduling the deliveries for the end of the week. In and out of the warehouse he went, checking orders, examining the delivery map, and tagging furniture for routes and days of delivery.

  At five o’clock, he told Judy and Paul goodbye, assuring them he’d be right behind them. And he had no doubt he would be able to stick to that goal. He was right on time, too, until he couldn’t find the table Mr. Villas had ordered. After walking through the entire freezing warehouse twice, he went back into his office and retrieved the clipboard that had the inventory sheets attached.

  With a pencil in hand, he scanned the items but couldn’t find the number. Had Paul filled out the form wrong? Mentally berating him, Aaron strode out to the showroom and checked the table’s item number with the one he’d found on his sheet.

  After another fifteen minutes, he’d found the discrepancy, and it wasn’t Paul’s mistake at all. No, it had been his. He’d transposed two numbers. There was no other table in stock or on the way. It was no wonder Paul had been looking at him so strangely. Obviously, he’d been wanting him to call the manufacturer to see if a table could be rushed. Now it was to
o late to call, and he didn’t know what he was going to do, besides the obvious, which was to call Mr. Villas and admit his mistake.

  Already dreading it, he fished around for the order form. There was nothing to do but tell the truth, apologize for his mistake, and take whatever criticism the customer was going to dish out.

  Just as he was about to pick up the phone, it rang.

  “Zeiset’s Furniture, may I help you?” he said.

  “Yes, you can tell me why you’re working so late,” his boss joked.

  “Just trying to keep everything running like you do, sir. How is Florida?”

  “As sunny and warm as ever. Every year, I tell my wife we need to stay another week longer next time. We’ve already been to the beach two times!”

  “That’s real nice, sir. I’m happy for ya.”

  “Uh-oh. I know that tone of voice. What happened?”

  Though there was a big part of him that didn’t want to ruin his boss’s day and share what he’d done, Aaron knew there was no getting out of the truth. “I’m sorry to say that I made a big mistake today, sir.”

  “You’d best tell me what happened, then.”

  Feeling even worse, Aaron forced himself to tell the whole story, even the part where Paul tried to stop him from making such a big error.

  “What were you going to do before I called?”

  “I was about to call Mr. Villas and admit my mistake.”

  “Scott Villas has been a good customer over the years. He’s a good man, but he’s not going to take this lightly.”

  “I kind of figured that.”

  His boss paused. “Okay, I just got a pencil and paper. Give me the order number and the name of the table again. Then, I want the phone number of the manufacturer. It’s Higgens, yes?”

  “Jah,” Aaron replied as he opened a file and read the company’s contact information to his boss.

  “I’ll give them a call and see what I can do.”

  “But, sir, it’s already after six.”

  “There’s an extension I can use to get Brian Higgens’s cell phone. Don’t worry, we’ll find that table.”

  “I hope so. I am real sorry about this, Mr. Zeiset.”