A Place of Peace

by Amy Clipston

  Lindsay looped her arm over Jessica’s shoulder. “You deserve it. I know you wanted to get a few things before you head back to school, so I thought a gift card was the best gift. You can combine it with the gift card from Aenti Rebecca.”

  “Thank you.” Jessica gave her a quick hug.

  The rumble of an engine sounded on the dirt road leading to the farmhouse.

  “Your date’s here,” Lindsay said, waggling her eyebrows. “Go have fun, but be home by midnight.”

  Jessica smacked her sister’s shoulder. “I’m the older sister, not you.” Standing, she put the card and gift card back into the envelope and handed it to Lindsay. “Would you put this in my room?”

  “Of course. See you later.”

  “Thank you.” Jessica gave her sister a quick hug and then rushed down the porch steps and climbed into the cab of Jake’s dark blue Chevrolet pickup. Since Jake was Mennonite and not Amish, he was permitted to drive a vehicle and wear English clothing. “Hey,” she said, fastening her seatbelt.

  “Hey yourself.” Leaning over, he pulled her into his arms. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day. Happy birthday.”

  “Thank you,” she said, resting her cheek on his shoulder and breathing in the scent of his musky cologne. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she’d made the right choice when she’d left Jake to live with her parents’ best friends in Virginia.

  But she needed to finish high school and go to college—to make Mom and Dad proud.

  “Hungry?” Jake pulled back and clicked his seatbelt.

  “You betcha.” Jessica rubbed her hands together. “I only had a yogurt for lunch, so I’m starved.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Bird-in-Hand Restaurant?”

  “Sounds great.”

  Jessica sat across from Jake in a booth and swirled her straw in her glass of Diet Coke while he pored over the menu as if he’d never seen it before.

  Glancing up at her, he grinned, and her heart thumped in her chest. She’d imagined his face in her mind nearly a thousand times every day they were apart after she’d left Pennsylvania. His dark brown hair was cut short, accentuating his bright blue eyes.

  “Do you know what you want?” he asked.

  “The usual. Ham loaf.” Lifting her glass, she took a sip. “I can’t have that back at the beach, so I need to enjoy it here.”

  “That’s true.” His smile deepened. “Or you could stay here permanently.”

  She sighed. “Jake, we’ve been through this a million times. It’s my senior year.”

  “Right.” He gripped the menu. “And you can finish up here and go to college here.”

  “But my friends …”

  He frowned. “If my memory serves me correctly, they weren’t very good friends to you last summer.”

  The waitress appeared and took their order.

  When the woman was gone, Jessica leaned forward onto the table. “I’ve made new friends,” she said. “I know you want me to move here, but it’s important to me to graduate with my class.”

  His eyes were hopeful. “And what happens after graduation?”

  Jessica leaned back in the booth and bit her lip. “I’m going to college. I know that for sure, but I don’t know where I’ll end up.”

  He gestured widely with his arms. “Why not here with me?”

  “It’s a possibility, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “Well, no matter where you wind up, I have a promise for you.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small felt box. “Happy birthday.”

  He held the box out, and Jessica stared at it, her mouth gaping with surprise.

  A jewelry box. What could be in it? A ring?

  But Mennonites don’t wear jewelry.

  A key? But a key to what?

  “Take it.” He took her hand and placed the box in it, closing her fingers around it.

  The warmth of his touch sent her pulse galloping. With her heart banging against her ribcage like a bass drum, she flipped open the top and found a simple gold cross shimmering up at her.

  Tears filled her eyes as she looked up into his. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Look at the back.” He pulled the necklace from the cardboard insert and held it up.

  Jessica grasped the cool metal with her fingers and flipped over the cross. The tiny engraved letters spelled out, “To Jessica. Forever, Jake.”

  Her eyes filled with tears as they met his probing gaze. “It’s gorgeous,” she whispered.

  Reaching across the table, Jake took her hand in his. “I know it’s not customary for a Mennonite to buy or wear jewelry, but I wanted to do this for you. You always wear your mother’s wedding ring on a chain on your neck. I wanted to give you something to remember me by while we’re apart. A cross seemed appropriate, since Jesus brought us together.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I know you’ll make whatever choice is best for you next year after you graduate, and I promise I won’t pressure you to come here for college. But just the same, I don’t want you to forget our friendship. The cross is a symbol of how much you mean to me.”

  “I could never forget you,” Jessica said, her voice trembling with the admiration surging through her. She unlatched the catch on the chain and fastened the cross around her neck. Holding the cross to her chest, she cleared her throat. “I’ll keep it here, next to my heart.”

  “Good.” He smiled and then lifted his glass. “Happy birthday.”

  “Thank you.” Jessica gripped the cross in her hand. No matter where she went to college, she knew she would keep the cross and Jake close to her heart forever.

  Later that evening, Miriam nudged the porch swing and floated back and forth. She breathed in the sweet, humid air and yawned. She’d accomplished her mission to tailor three of Edna’s old dresses for herself, along with the capes and aprons. She also started three new dresses but didn’t finish them.

  She ran her hands over the thighs of her old jeans and examined her peach T-shirt. As of tomorrow, she would be dressing Amish again. What a strange turn her life had taken in the past few days. She’d gone from pediatric assistant to Amish baker in less than a week. Yet, somehow, she was comfortable with the change. It felt right, despite the years she’d tried to convince herself that she belonged in Indiana working in a pediatrician’s office.

  Was God trying to tell her something about her life plan?

  The clip-clop of a buggy caught her attention as it approached the cabin. Miriam stood and leaned on the porch railing, anxious to see who would arrive to visit Edna.

  The horse and buggy came to a stop at the hitching post in front of the cabin, and Miriam smiled when Zach climbed from the buggy and tethered the horse.

  “Zach Fisher,” she said, pushing an errant lock of hair back that had fallen from her ponytail. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “Wie geht’s to you, too,” he said, climbing the stairs with a mischievous smile. “Since you’ve forgotten how to use the phone shanty, I thought I’d come visit you. I was in the neighborhood returning some books to the library. I had a pile of overdue books in the back of my workshop.”

  “You’re still reading those Christian novels, huh?” Miriam laughed. “I meant to call you, but I’ve been so busy.”

  “Of course you have,” he deadpanned. “That’s what all the girls tell me when they’re trying to avoid me.”

  “I doubt you’ve ever had that problem.” She motioned toward the porch swing. “Please join me.”

  “I’d be honored.” He followed her to the swing and sat next to her, gently rocking it back and forth in the warm breeze. “What has kept you so busy?”

  “I sort of got a job.”

  “Here? You got a job here?” His smile was genuine and wide. “You’re staying?”

  “For a couple of weeks. I’m going to work at the Kauffman Bakery and use my vacation time from my job in Indiana.” She grasped the cool chain that held up the swing. “I want to try to make things rig
ht with my daed, help out aenti, and spend time with Hannah and her children.”

  “Is Abraham still treating you badly?”

  She cleared her throat, hoping to stop her threatening tears. Why did the thoughts of her father upset her so? “He wouldn’t speak to me at the funeral. I’m not sure how to get through to him. Hannah says to wait a few days and go over there, but I’m not sure what I would even say to him.”

  “Listen to your heart. The Lord will guide you.”

  She nodded, afraid if she spoke, she would wind up crying in front of him.

  “Maybe you’ll work things out and decide to stay,” he said.

  His hazel eyes were hopeful, and she wondered why.

  “I don’t know.” Miriam glanced toward the large field separating the cabin from her father’s house. “I’m not sure if I belong here.”

  “What’s keeping you in Indiana?”

  She shrugged. “I like my job. I love working with the kinner.”

  “You can find a job like that here.”

  Meeting his gaze, she found an intensity in his eyes that surprised her. She braced herself when he opened his mouth to speak.

  “Miriam,” he began, his expression serious, bordering on nervous. “I have something I’ve wanted to say for a very long time.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands, then back up to her. “I care for you. I didn’t get a chance to tell you before you started courting Timothy, but I’ve always cared for you.”

  She opened her mouth to speak.

  He held up his hand to stop her from answering. “No, please. Let me finish. I had always hoped and prayed you’d come back. I’m sorry your return was under a very sad circumstance, but I have to admit, it’s good to see you again. I hope you do decide to stay, and if you do, I would be honored if I could have a chance to court you.”

  “Zach,” she said. “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything.” He looked toward the field. “You don’t need to make any decisions now. I just wanted to be honest with you for once. I’ve longed to tell you that for quite some time.”

  She studied his handsome face, wondering if he’d practiced his speech throughout the entire ride to the cabin. A calmness enveloped her. His friendship had always been a comfort to her, especially during the tough times.

  Without thinking, she took his warm hand in hers, and he gave her a surprised smile.

  “I value your friendship,” she said. “You were the one person who listened to me when Jeremy Henderson died. You believed me when I told you it wasn’t my fault.”

  “I know who you are as a person, and I’ve always believed in you.” He squeezed her hand. “If you stay, and I hope you do stay, I want to be the first in line to court you.”

  Dropping his hand, she laughed. “I doubt there would ever be a line for me.”

  “Just you wait. There will be a line, and I’ll be up front.”

  They sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes, staring out across the field. Miriam contemplated Zach’s words, stunned by them. If only she cared for him the way he did for her. However, her feelings for him weren’t romantic; they were loyal friendship and deep respect. She couldn’t imagine courting him, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay in Lancaster County. She appreciated that he wasn’t pressuring her for an answer. She valued his friendship and didn’t want to lose it because she didn’t want to court him.

  When the sun began to set, Zach stood. “I guess I should let you get some rest. You can’t show up to your first day of work yawning.”

  Miriam followed him down the stairs to his buggy.

  “You still owe me supper,” he said with a smile while yanking open the buggy door.

  “I promised to call you, but I never promised supper.”

  “Since you haven’t called, I now expect a call and supper,” he said. “If I don’t hear from you in a few days, I’ll show up on your doorstep and demand my supper.”

  She chuckled. “I imagine you will.”

  He climbed into the buggy and leaned out the window. “Think about what I said.”

  She nodded. “I will. Danki for coming to visit.”

  “Gern gschehne.” Reaching out, he touched her nose. “Gute nacht.”

  “Gute nacht, mei freind.” She smiled as he drove off toward the road.

  9

  Miriam’s Honda bounced along the road leading to the Kauffman Amish Bakery. The terrain was hilly, and the roads were winding and rural. Soon she spotted a farm with a cluster of large houses set back off the road and surrounded by four barns, along with a beautiful lush, green pasture.

  The property was owned by Elizabeth and Eli Kauffman, Timothy’s parents. Her stomach roiled when she spotted the home Timothy had built in anticipation of his marriage to her. Nearby was the home Sarah Rose had shared with her late husband, Peter. The bakery was the fourth house, the one closest to the road. Timothy and his five siblings grew up in the biggest house, where his parents still lived.

  Miriam steered her gray Honda down the dirt road and nosed it into the large parking lot in front of the large, white clapboard farmhouse with a sweeping wraparound porch. A tall sign with “Kauffman Amish Bakery” in old-fashioned letters hung above the door.

  Out behind the building was a fenced-in play area, and beyond that was an enclosed pasture. The three other large farmhouses and four barns were set back beyond the pasture. The dirt road leading to the other homes was roped off with a sign declaring “Private Property—No Trespassing.” A large paved parking lot sat adjacent to the bakery.

  After pulling her small sedan into a parking space, Miriam turned off the engine and gripped the steering wheel. Glancing down, she examined her black dress, symbolizing her mourning of her mother, and black apron. How ironic she was dressed Amish and driving a car. She’d considered asking to borrow a horse and buggy from her father, but she doubted she would get any help from him or her brother. Without any help, she had no choice but to rely on her own transportation. Besides, the drive would take much longer by buggy than by car.

  For now, she would have to be a driving anomaly. Since most of the Amish paid full-time English drivers to take them to and from work, she would consider asking for a ride from Jessica or one of their other drivers once she got to know her better.

  Taking a deep breath, Miriam climbed from the car, locked it, and slipped the keys into the inside pocket of her apron. She then crossed the parking lot and climbed the back steps of the bakery.

  Memories of her visits to the bakery with Timothy assaulted her mind. He had often brought her here to enjoy a delicious dessert and visit with his sisters. She’d cherished those times, sitting at a little wrought iron table on the wraparound porch, enjoying whoopie pies and conversation with the man she’d thought was the love of her life.

  Pushing those thoughts away, Miriam stepped through the back door of the bakery and inhaled the sweet smell of baking bread. Elizabeth, Beth Anne, Kathryn, and their nieces rushed around the kitchen preparing desserts for the day.

  “Gude mariye. Wie geht’s?“ Beth Anne called while washing cookie sheets.

  “Gut. How are you all doing?” Miriam rung her hands and cleared her throat, standing before Timothy’s mother and sisters.

  Kathryn frowned and looked down, mixing dough for her next creation.

  “Miriam!” Elizabeth rushed over. “It’s so gut to see you. How have you been?”

  Miriam blinked, studying the older woman’s genuine smile. She’d always considered Elizabeth an angel on earth, a loving, forgiving woman.

  “I’m doing okay. How have you been?” Miriam stepped back and forced a nervous smile.

  “Gut. Danki.” Elizabeth gestured around the kitchen. “You can see the bakery looks the same. I don’t mean to sound prideful, but I have to admit business is booming. We’re glad you can help us out.” She turned to her granddaughters. “Lindsay, Amanda, Lizzie, and Ruthie, please come meet Miriam.” The four g
irls crossed the room and smiled. “These are my grossdochdern. Lindsay is Rebecca and Daniel’s niece who came to live with them from Virginia last year, and Amanda, Lizzie, and Ruthie are Kathryn’s dochdern. I’m sure you remember them.”

  Miriam nodded and smiled. “Ya, I do. You’ve grown up.”

  Amanda tilted her head in question. “You know us?” She tapped her finger to her chin, concentrating. “You were courting Onkel Timothy, ya?”

  Kathryn muttered something inaudible across the counter, and Beth Anne shot her older sister a warning look.

  Kathryn blew out a frustrated sigh and then met Miriam’s gaze. She pursed her lips. “It’s gut to see you,” she said without the hint of a smile. “Welcome to the bakery.”

  “Danki, Kathryn.” Miriam smiled, and Kathryn looked away.

  “As you know, we’re open from eight until five,” Elizabeth said. “The girls take turns taking care of the younger kinner. Right now Kathryn’s daughter Lizzie is on duty. She’ll switch off later with Ruthie.”

  Elizabeth put her hand on Miriam’s shoulder and led her toward the row of ovens, refrigerators, and freezers. “Let me give you a tour of the kitchen.” She pointed out the cooking supplies and ingredients and then discussed their schedule for the baking.

  “You were always a wunderbaar baker.” Elizabeth led her to the refrigerator. “I thought you’d like to start out with crumbly peach pie.”

  Miriam paused and met Elizabeth’s eyes.

  Timothy’s favorite.

  Pushing the memory away, Miriam cleared her throat. “I’d be happy to.”

  “Gut.” Elizabeth opened the refrigerator. “You’ll find everything you need in here and in the stand-alone freezers.” She nodded toward a shelf full of binders, journals, and books. “We have several volumes of traditional recipes. Feel free to leaf through them or bake from memory. We trust your judgment. I know your grossmammi taught you well.”

  “Danki,” Miriam whispered, winding her finger around the tie of her prayer kapp.

  Elizabeth’s gaze softened. “Please feel comfortable here, Miriam. We’re froh to have you, despite what my stubborn Kathryn said. The past is the past, ya?”