by Mary Ellis
“With patience exhausted, God sent His death angel to every home in Egypt to slay the firstborn of each family. A giant cry arose throughout the land. God told Moses’ people to sacrifice a male lamb for a feast and mark their doors with its blood. The death angel passed over those homes, sparing their offspring. When Pharaoh’s own son was killed, he finally released the Israelites from bondage in Egypt.”
The district sat spellbound without a cough, clearing of the throat, or shifting of benches. They stared at Solomon, horrified by God’s wrath.
“Because the king was stubborn, every Egyptian suffered. Only when sorrow cut close to home—his own son—did Pharaoh see the foolishness of challenging the God of Moses.” Solomon paused and drew breath. He struggled to select the right words to relay his timely message. “It has been raining without cessation for two days. Some may make light of this—no big deal. Others may say it could be a sign that we have displeased the Lord. I cannot say for sure, but I ask you to examine your hearts—every man and woman here. Are there sins you have ignored? Have we grown lackadaisical about maintaining the Ordnung in our homes? Are we becoming worldly like the Englischers we do business with? God misses nothing. We might be able to keep secrets from one another, but we keep no secrets from Him.”
If a pin had dropped in the Yost barn, everyone would have heard. No one moved. All eyes remained locked on the minister.
“Unfortunately, it took blood, frogs, lice, flies, disease, boils, hail, locusts, darkness, and the death of the firstborn Egyptians to get the Egyptians’ attention. Will we be so thickheaded about transgressions in our own lives?” Solomon stepped back and unclenched his fists. “Root it out, I say to you. Repent of whatever you’re guilty of and live by the laws that have served our people for hundreds of years.” He clamped his jaw shut, having done his job. No need to browbeat them with the sermon. He returned to his place on the men’s side to await the other minister’s message, not noticing the pale, stunned expressions on people’s faces.
Later on the drive home, Solomon Trask felt he’d served his district well. Yet his wife and daughter were uncharacteristically silent. They neither discussed his sermon as they usually did, nor asked questions about certain points they might not have understood.
Did I sound accusatory rather than cautionary? he asked himself. Have I distanced those I intended to draw closer to the fold?
Yet events in Audrain and Randolph counties during the next twenty-four hours only solidified Solomon’s convictions. For the rest of that day and night, the rain continued, flooding roads and cellars, washing away precious topsoil, and destroying the corn and soybean crops…just when both had been off to auspicious starts.
If Violet asked one more question on their way to work, Nora thought she would scream. How do you tell your best friend you would rather not discuss your disastrous date? Violet yearned for details.
“What did you eat?”
“What did you talk about?”
“How close did you sit on the ride home?”
Nora yielded only in that she enjoyed the Mexican food and they both had talked a lot about work. She didn’t mention Elam had tried to ply her with alcohol or that he’d gotten fresh with her while parked in the driveway. Her shame over his behavior lasted for days. When Violet’s father had referred to sins people were hiding, Nora thought she would melt into the floor. Memories of mistakes she made in Lancaster returned—mistakes she could never rectify.
How could she admit she had foolishly surrendered what should have been saved for marriage? Thinking she was in love, and that the man courting her was in love with her, she’d lost her innocence, her dignity, and her self-respect on one regrettable summer night. What Christian man would want her now?
“Planet Earth calling Nora King,” said Violet, breaking through Nora’s fog.
“Sorry, I was daydreaming.” Nora glanced over at her passenger.
“About Elam?” Violet sounded hopeful.
“I was thinking about Pennsylvania. What did you say?”
“I asked what you and Emily baked yesterday.”
“Pies. Six different types, so today we’ll make bread and cookies.” Nora relaxed as conversation changed from Saturday night to how Violet had spent the past three days. She and her mamm had cleaned, cooked, and done laundry at the Huffman house to help the new mother and bedridden father.
Once they entered the bakery, Nora built a fire in the stove and opened every screened window. Violet wiped down shelves and unloaded the totes into the displays. Grain of Life was ready for business when Emily arrived twenty minutes later.
Emily preferred walking to work for the exercise and reached the shop not remotely out of breath. “Look at this place. You could eat off the floor and we’re all set up.” Slipping on a clean apron, she flipped the sign to “Open.”
“My first batch of oatmeal pecan cookies will be done in ten minutes, but I strongly recommend you use a plate to eat,” Nora said, smiling at her cheery employer.
“I’ve assembled twenty pie boxes and made new signs.” Violet beamed from her front counter post. “We’re prepared for the onslaught.”
Customers, mostly Amish and locals, showed up throughout the day in a steady stream but didn’t overwhelm the shop. Emily was able to bake multigrain and whole wheat bread while Nora baked twelve dozen cookies, enough to hold them until Saturday. Unfortunately, the last batch remained in the oven too long and need to be scraped from the cookie sheet.
“Is something burning? I’d heard this was the best bakery in Paradise.”
The booming male voice sounded oddly familiar to Nora. She had been concentrating on her overdone cookies and not heard the bell above the door. Peering up, Nora met the gaze of Lewis Miller—her former beau from Harmony. “Lewis!” She dropped the spatula and approached the counter. “What a surprise.”
“A pleasant one, I hope,” he said. “You did write and invite me to visit. Or don’t you recall?” He folded his arms against his black coat. “Maybe you send out so many invitations, it’s hard to keep track.” His blue eyes danced with delight.
Nora wiped damp palms down her apron. Despite having sent a letter, being face-to-face with the man she once thought she’d marry left her weak in the knees. “Nein. I recall inviting only one person—you.” She approached cautiously and offered her hand, which Lewis pumped vigorously.
“I’m happy to hear it. Now, what’s your price for burnt cookies? Surely you can cut an old friend a deal.” He held her hand a few moments longer than necessary.
“Ahem.” Violet cleared her throat with exaggeration. “Have Emily and I blended into the pastries or have you simply forgotten us?” She straightened taller in her chair.
“Excuse me. Lewis, this is my dear friend, Violet Trask.” Nora placed both hands on Violet’s shoulders. “And this is my mentor and employer, besides my friend, Emily Gingerich. She is also Sally Detweiler’s sister.” Nora encircled Emily’s waist with her arm as she joined them at the counter. “Ladies, this is Lewis Miller from Maine.”
Lewis swept off his straw hat and bent low. “Violet, Mrs. Gingerich. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I had prayed Nora would meet nice people in Missouri. I see that prayer has been answered.”
“Welcum to Paradise. And call me Emily, especially if you’re planning to stay with us during your visit. Before you argue, you should know we have no hotels or inns or bed-and-breakfasts in town. Even the nearest campground is fifteen miles away.”
Lewis clutched his hat to his chest. “I wouldn’t dream of declining your hospitality. I spoke with your sister before leaving Maine. Sally described your cooking as memorable.”
Emily’s laughter filled the shop. “Memorable could be either good or bad, so that sounds exactly like something my sister would say.”
While they exchanged friendly banter, Nora focused on Lewis’s hands. Where were the ink stains from keeping his father’s ledgers? She remembered his hands as large but not as calloused. Had he been w
orking his daed’s fields as well as the store? Last year his face had been full and round, with a hint of remaining baby fat. Now his jawline was sharper, while his chin dimple had deepened into a cleft. She shook her head to stop staring. “Emily and Jonas have plenty of room,” she said with every gaze on her. “Where is your bag?”
“Bags,” corrected Lewis. “They’re on the porch. I didn’t want to take up valuable shop space.”
“How long will you be here? A couple of weeks?” asked Violet.
Lewis trained his cornflower blue eyes on her. “Oh, no. I intend to stay a while. My daed gave me a leave of absence from my job, replacing me in the store with a cousin. I don’t need to return until September to help with the harvest.” His focus drifted from Violet back to Nora.
After this bombshell, Nora felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. Lewis would be in town for months? When she’d invited him, she imagined a week—two at the most. “It must be nice to be able to take long vacations,” she murmured.
“It’s no vacation. I intend to look for work so I won’t deplete my savings account. If anyone knows of any job openings, I’d be appreciative.” He turned back to Emily. “Now that you know my plans, does your offer of a room still stand? I’ll gladly pay room and board, of course.”
Emily began bagging up an assortment of cookies. “Of course it does. Your first two weeks will be Gingerich hospitality, and then Jonas will set a fair weekly rate. You can discuss that with him.”
“You traveled all this way to see Nora and will remain the entire summer?” Violet’s words dripped with admiration.
Tiny laugh lines formed around his mouth as Lewis smiled. “The truth is, Violet, I have a definite goal to accomplish in Missouri. And I’m not leaving until I’m successful.”
Nora had to force her legs to walk back to the table. “Let’s see, you said you wanted this burnt batch? How does a dollar sound for the dozen?” She shoveled the crispy cookies into a brown paper sack.
“Nora King, we do not gouge customers on their first day in town. We wait at least till their second visit to Grain of Life. Give him those at no charge.” Emily stood with both hands on her hips. “How did you get here, Lewis?”
“A taxi brought me from Columbia. When I noticed the sign for the bakery, I had the driver drop me off. I figured I could walk the rest of the way to your house, even with luggage.”
“You’re not walking anywhere. I have a brilliant plan.” She took the bag of cookies from Nora and handed it to Lewis. Then she put another two dozen is a separate bag and handed it to the blushing Amish girl standing next to her. “Nora, you and Violet may leave now. The baking is done for the day anyway. Drive Lewis to my husband’s lumberyard so he can apply for a job. You can put those cookies in the company break room. Jonas mentioned he still needed to hire another man, and Lewis looks strong as a bull.”
“Like Paul Bunyan,” piped up Violet.
“Or at least his blue ox,” Nora said, smiling for the first time since he arrived. She turned to Emily. “You think Lewis could work at Gingerich’s?”
“Jah, why not? After the lumberyard you can drop Violet off and take him home. Lewis can unpack and get comfortable in his new room. Show him around. Maybe he would like to relax after the trip, especially if Jonas wants him to start work right away.”
“Danki, Emily. I am in your debt.” Lewis pulled out a cookie to sample. “These are delicious, by the way.”
Things were moving too fast for Nora. She swallowed down a surge of anxiety as she fetched their purses from the cupboard. “If you’re sure you don’t need us this afternoon…”
“I can leave too?” asked Violet. “What an adventure.”
“Life generally is, often when we least expect it to be.” Lewis’s cryptic words hung in the air as the three of them left the shop. While he folded up the wheelchair and helped Violet into the buggy, Nora retrieved the horse from where she’d been grazing. She needed five minutes to decide which confusing emotion to focus on—panic or pure joy.
Elam Detweiler rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He stared across the sawdust-strewn floor of the showroom where Gingerich Lumber sold hardware, metal work, hand tools, and other equipment. A tall, powerfully built Amish man talked to Jonas near the office door. When he turned, Elam recognized the face of Lewis Miller. What on earth was the Harmony shopkeeper doing in Paradise?
He tossed his clipboard of loading bills onto the desk as a disturbing memory resurfaced. Lewis had briefly courted Nora back in Maine. When Elam had questioned her about their relationship, she had dismissed the idea, insisting that the frigid north held little appeal for her. Afterward, Nora had helped him buy a car and kept his confidences regarding his plans to leave. She’d let him kiss her in the henhouse. They had taken a late night buggy ride while his brother’s household slept, none the wiser. And she secretly drank a beer with him at a community pig roast. But that was the old Nora, before she’d become all buttoned-up and standoffish.
Funny how she had acted boldly in ultraconservative Harmony, but here in Paradise, where the bishop actually permitted rumschpringe, she’d turned into a gray-haired old biddy. She worried about everything from driving too fast to hiding every strand of hair under her kapp.
While Elam watched unnoticed across the room, Jonas and Lewis shook hands, both men wearing smiles. Then Jonas introduced Lewis to Ken Stewart, the foreman. That could only mean one thing—Lewis had just been hired—but it didn’t explain why he had come to town. In six long strides, Elam closed the distance between them.
“Lewis Miller,” he said. “As I live and breathe.”
Three pairs of eyes turned toward him. “Hello, Elam. It’s been a long time, no?” Lewis stuck out his hand.
After a moment, Elam shook. “What’s going on?”
“You two know each other?” asked Ken, scratching his chin.
“Of course. Harmony is a small town.” Elam’s inflection on his former residence reflected his low opinion.
“Jonas hired me to work the counter. I’ll wait on customers and write up phone orders.” Lewis looked pleased, standing there with his hands tucked beneath his suspenders.
“Is that right? On the day shift?” Elam directed his question at Jonas without hiding his irritation. “I thought any openings for a late start time would be mine.” He sucked in air through his nostrils.
Jonas shrugged his shoulders. “You mentioned your car had been repaired. If it’s running fine, you should have no trouble getting to work on time. Lewis, on the other hand, drives a horse and buggy. A delayed start would serve him better.” He fixed Elam with a cool stare, as though daring him to argue.
Elam considered his options. Gingerich paid a decent salary in a county with few employment opportunities. He’d just caught up with back rent but still owed his friend for the car parts he purchased. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Besides, the earlier I start, the sooner I get out of here.”
Ken checked his clipboard. “Is your paperwork caught up, along with organizing the orders to be pulled tomorrow?”
“All ready to go, boss.” Elam looked at the foreman, not the newest employee, but Lewis appeared to be studying him with great interest.
“In that case you can punch out.” With the matter settled, Ken turned to discuss something with Jonas that Elam couldn’t hear. Then the three men walked into the office. Lewis acted as though he owned the place instead of having worked there for fifteen minutes.
Elam punched out at the time clock and collected his thermos from the break room. Someone had set out a bag of cookies from Grain of Life, probably Jonas. After helping himself to four, he walked outside into bright May sunshine. Just as he reached his car, he spotted Lewis climbing into a nondescript buggy. How did he manage to buy a rig so fast? But that question paled in importance compared to why he had come to Paradise in the first place.
Elam’s mind whirred in turmoil during the drive home. Knowi
ng only one person who could answer his questions, Elam took a quick shower, put on clean clothes, and drove to the home of Jonas and Emily Gingerich. Maybe his boss would invite him to share supper with the family. Then he could spend time with his girl, patch up their minor misunderstanding, and get information about Miller.
The woman he was looking for was exiting the barn when he drove up and parked in the shade. “Hey, Nora,” he sang out, springing from the car.
“Elam, what are you doing here?” She looked and sounded downright flabbergasted to see him.
He caught up to her on the path to the house. “You’re not still sore about last Saturday, are you? I’m sorry I got a little frisky after our date. You looked so pretty that I temporarily forgot my manners.” Elam jammed his hands into his back pockets.
Nora clutched her purse to her chest. “Jah, I’m still upset. Just because you bought me dinner doesn’t give you the right to take liberties.”
Elam was both confused and disappointed. Nora had kissed him back home without hesitation and expressed no remorse. But he had no desire to make matters worse. “It won’t happen again, I promise, but let me ask you something.” He paused long enough to swat a mosquito on his neck. “Why do you suppose Lewis Miller is in town? You remember him, don’t you—the shopkeeper’s son?”
“Of course I remember him. I’m not addlebrained. He came to Paradise to see what all the fuss was about. The way your sister-in-law talks about Missouri, it’s a wonder everyone in Harmony doesn’t show up.” Nora’s lips drew into a smile.
That wasn’t the anticipated response. Lewis’s arrival didn’t remotely surprise her. “You knew he was coming?”
“Well, jah.” She clutched her purse tighter. “He wrote me a letter to say he would.”
“Have you seen him yet?” A spark of anger began deep in Elam’s gut.
“When he stopped at the bakery. Emily asked Violet and me to drive him to Gingerich’s to see about a job.”
“That was you waiting for him in the parking lot?” The tiny spark fanned into a blaze.