Amish Romance Box Set: Finding Home

by Brenda Maxfield

  So that was it. She was the widow now. She was the one who would receive help. She blanched, dismayed to her core to be in such a position.

  “I don’t have any shingles.”

  “I do,” he said. He touched her wrist, and the very air around them became electrified. Her throat went dry, and she worked to swallow. When did Zachariah become so disturbing? She blinked up at him. His eyes were dark and unfathomable as he dropped his hand to his side. He gave her one long last look and then went down the steps and walked away.

  She turned abruptly and hurried back inside. The day couldn’t get over soon enough for her. She went back to the dining area and saw that the table had been cleared. In the kitchen, Katy was running the dish water.

  “I’ll take over from here,” Naomi said. “Thank you for all your help. Why not go read a story to your brother? It’ll be time for bed soon.”

  “But Mamm, it’s not even eight o’clock yet.”

  Naomi blew out her breath. “It’ll be time for bed soon,” she repeated.

  Chapter Two

  Thankfully, the children turned in without grumbles. Naomi simply couldn’t abide one more hour of anything but solitude. She promised herself that she’d make it up to them the next day and allow them an extra half hour of play outside after supper.

  The downstairs echoed its emptiness as Naomi walked through the rooms, adjusting the open windows and straightening odds and ends. The cool wooden floors felt refreshing on her feet, and she began to relax. The sun was sinking, and the shadows through the rooms deepened. She should light a lantern, but she resisted, instead enjoying the peaceful settling of the darkness. The breeze flowing through the windows was humid and heavy, and she smelled the fragrance of the growing plants outside. She could almost sense their developing ripeness, knowing that before long, canning season would be upon her. Harvest was always a frantic and an exciting time. Putting up all that food, feeling its richness, and knowing it was going to take the family through the winter, made a person safe and content.

  Naomi had always enjoyed the changing seasons and the unique blessings and tasks that came with every shift of the earth. She stepped outside on the front porch and sank into one of the rockers. Would she be able to handle her Bed and Breakfast plus all the canning that year? Katy would be a big help, but she was only a child. Perhaps, Naomi and her friend Mary could do their canning together. Sometimes Amish women put up fruit and vegetables together, but having been in the district a limited time, Naomi wasn’t sure about the women in Hollybrook. Besides, she’d never had the need as she’d always canned with her mother. But Mary would know, and Naomi decided to ask her friend about it soon.

  Naomi’s hand went to her pocket, and she felt the crunch of Justin’s letters beneath her fingers. It was time. She pulled the letter out and unfolded it. She held it close to her face, but in the growing darkness, she couldn’t make out Justin’s words. She reached over to the small table beside her, found the matches, and lit the lantern there, carefully replacing the chimney.

  She reread the first part of the letter. Then she focused on the last half.

  I don’t say these things to garner your sympathy, only to try and explain what staying here has meant to me. I love the quiet rhythm of your life. I love how you live so in tune with the earth and nature. Many people think everyone in Texas lives on a ranch. I can assure you—that isn’t true. I live smack in the middle of the city, where things are fast and hectic and impersonal.

  Ha! My mother always told me I was born in the wrong place. It used to annoy me, but I see the wisdom of her observation now. It really became pointed while staying with you at your Bed and Breakfast.

  And to think that I gathered eggs! From real live hens. A highpoint in my life to be sure.

  I do hope that you won’t forget me, Naomi Byler. I hope we can continue to be friends. I can call you my friend, can’t I?

  Naomi leaned back against the chair and let out her breath. Was she his friend? She supposed so. And no, he needn’t worry, she wasn’t likely to forget him. She smiled, remembering how he could hardly fit his long legs beneath the dining table. Ben had to scoot the bench back before Justin could squeeze in. And she wouldn’t soon forget the look of delight on his face when he found the eggs in the nesting boxes.

  Naomi focused back on the letter.

  My work takes me all over the United States. I can only hope that I’ll get another writing assignment in Indiana. If I do, I hope you’ll welcome me again at Byler’s Bed and Breakfast. I’m smiling at you now, in case you don’t know it.

  Well, I suppose I need to close this letter. Think of me when I’m gone, Naomi. As I’ll think of you.

  With great esteem,

  Justin Moore

  He had added his mailing address at the end of his letter. She frowned and pressed her lips together. Did he expect her to write him back? She couldn’t do that. It would be highly unseemly, plus nonsensical. What would be the point?

  She folded the letter and pressed it back into her pocket.

  The lantern had drawn all the nearby moths and other flying critters from the night. They circled and pinged against the glass chimney. Naomi swatted about herself and then stood. Snuffing out the flame, she went inside. It was time for bed.

  Naomi sat at her husband’s heavy desk and studied the ledger books. Figuring and refiguring her finances had become a necessary evil every morning. She cringed at the figures before her now. The money she’d received for boarding Justin was a big help, but it wasn’t enough. Her idea of a Bed and Breakfast would do her no good without paying customers. She’d been working on a sign to hang out by the road, but it looked crude. She was no artist. And who would want to stay at a place with such an ugly sign?

  Perhaps she could get someone to make one for her—which of course would mean more money that she didn’t have.

  Ben tumbled into the front room, wiping sleep from his eyes. “I’m hungry,” he grumped.

  Naomi stood. “Of course, you are. Come on, breakfast is ready.” She bustled into the kitchen and grabbed a hot pad. She pulled open the oven door and removed a platter of steaming hotcakes.

  “Yum! Can we have syrup, too?” Ben asked, his mood vastly improved.

  “It’s on the table.” The two went to the dining table where Katy was already seated, everything ready.

  “Katy, how would you like to help me with the Bed and Breakfast sign after we eat?” Naomi asked.

  “We’re making a sign?” Ben piped up.

  “We need to let people know we’re open for business,” Naomi explained, realizing that she had to step into a business owner role.

  “I’ll help,” Katy said.

  Naomi smiled at her and reached over to pat her hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Katy girl,” she said. “Shall we pray?”

  After the kitchen was clean and the barn chores were finished, Naomi and Katy dragged out the large board Naomi had been working on. She’d taken some left-over paint and had tried to make a nice border around the edges. Unfortunately, Naomi’s plan for a colorful, yet professional looking design left much to be desired.

  “Mamm, it looks like a garden snake winding around the board,” Katy said, standing with her legs apart, gazing at it.

  Naomi burst out laughing. “You’re right! I knew it was horrid, but I didn’t know why. A snake!”

  “Maybe the guests will think they’ll have snakes in their beds.” Katy giggled.

  “Jah, and that we serve fried snake for supper.”

  “And we have a snake museum in our barn!” Katy grinned at her own joke.

  Naomi shook her head and continued to chuckle. “Aw, Katy. I’m not good at this.”

  Katy tipped her head and studied the sign further. “Well, maybe we could make it into a vine with flowers.”

  Naomi considered that. “Do you want to give it a try? Look, I have all these bits of left-over paint. Nothing really colorful, though. The flowers are going to be drab
.”

  “Where’s the paintbrush?”

  Naomi hurried back into the barn to fetch it. “Here you go. What can I do to help?”

  Katy started giggling again. “Mamm, you’ve helped enough.”

  “Now, if the sign was on a quilt, I’d have done just fine,” Naomi defended herself with a smile.

  “Too bad we can’t hang a quilt. It’d look so nice.”

  “The weather would destroy it.”

  Katy nodded. “Jah, it would.”

  A loud bang came from the top of the barn and both Naomi and Katy jumped and looked up.

  “What was that?” Katy asked.

  Then Naomi remembered. “I’m thinking it’s Zach. He told me he was going to work on the barn roof today.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “He said a part of it was about to leak.” Naomi continued gazing up as she began moving around the barn, trying to locate Zach on the roof. Katy followed her. When they rounded the last corner, Naomi saw him. He was on his knees, nailing new shingles onto a darkened patch of roof.

  He spotted her looking at him. “Gut morning, Naomi,. And Katy,” he called down.

  “Gut morning. Do you need anything?”

  The brim of his hat shadowed his face. She couldn’t see his features well, but she clearly saw his wide smile. “I’m fine,” he said, pounding in another nail.

  “All right, then. Thank you, Zach. Truly.” She left him to it, and she and Katy returned to their sign project.

  “Here’s a stick to stir the paint,” Naomi said, handing Katy a smooth branch. “Some of the colors might be okay because I stirred them yesterday. Some of this paint is ancient. Left behind by the previous owner, I suppose.”

  The two of them got to work. Naomi let Katy do the painting, but in all honesty, the sign still looked amateurish at best. Katy sank onto the ground. “Mamm, it’s awful.”

  Naomi joined her on the grass. “It’s not so bad.”

  But it was.

  “The letters look like big blobs. The paintbrush is too fat. It’s ugly, Mamm. For sure and for certain.”

  Naomi sighed. “It’s the best we’ve got, so we don’t have much choice. Perhaps in the future, we can have one specially made.”

  “Sorry it’s so bad,” Katy said, a dejected look on her face.

  “No need to be sorry.” Naomi patted her daughter on her back. “It’s fine for now. We just have to nail it onto a post and put it at the end of the drive.”

  Ben came skipping from around the barn. “Can I go up on the roof and help Mr. Zach?” he asked.

  Naomi frowned. “Nee. The roof’s no place for a five-year-old.”

  “But I’m big now. You always tell me so.”

  Naomi gazed at his stubborn expression, and her heart softened. “You are big,” she said with more gentleness. “But what would I do if you fell off the roof? Hmm? Who would help me with all the barn chores then?”

  Ben looked as if he was considering this. His face brightened. “Then, can I help you with that?” He pointed to the sign.

  “You sure can,” Naomi said, relieved he’d given up the roof idea. “We need a long wooden post to nail this sign on.”

  “I know where one is,” Ben cried, taking off in the direction of the chicken coop.

  Within minutes, he was back, dragging a dirty post behind him and leaving a trail of smashed grass. “Here you go, Mamm.”

  “Where did you find that? It’s quite perfect.”

  “Behind the coop. I spotted it a long time ago.”

  “Good for you, Ben. Can you fetch Katy and me a hammer and some nails?”

  “Zach’s using the hammer.”

  “We have more than one. Look on the tool shelf in the barn.”

  He was off, returning in two minutes with a hammer and a fistful of nails.

  “Wait a minute, Mamm,” Katy said. She bent over with the paintbrush and put another petal on a white flower. “Okay. That’s better.”

  Ben and Katy held the sign over the post, while Naomi attempted to nail it down.

  “Don’t smear the paint!” Naomi warned, two nails sticking out of her mouth. She focused on her target and gave another swing with the hammer. The nail shot out, flying across the grass.

  Naomi frowned, her brow wrinkling in concentration. She pulled another nail from her mouth and held it over the sign. Another swing. This time the nail went partway in and folded over to the side.

  “You’re no good at this,” Ben observed.

  Naomi sank onto her haunches. “I can see that, Ben.”

  “Let me try.”

  “Nee. I’m going to try again,” she muttered.

  “Need some help?”

  Naomi looked up to see Zach standing a few yards away. His lips were pressed together, and Naomi could clearly see that he was biting back a smile.

  “Mr. Zach!” Ben exclaimed, jumping up and letting the sign fall to the side. “Mamm ain’t no good at all with a hammer.”

  Zachariah stepped closer, looking down at the sign. “Hmm.” He gazed at Katy. “How are you this morning, Katy?”

  “Fine.” She grimaced. “The sign’s ugly, but we did the best we could.”

  He squinted again at the sign. “Nee, it’s not ugly.”

  “But it is,” Katy insisted. “Someday, we’re going to get us a proper sign.”

  Zachariah stood next to where Naomi squatted on the ground. She was completely aware of his nearness, and her heart beat faster. More and more she noted her reaction to his proximity, and she couldn’t say she was pleased about it. She had no business being so interested in the comings and goings of Zachariah King.

  She remembered that her friend Mary had offered to tell her Zach’s story, whatever that might be. Naomi hadn’t taken her up on the offer yet, but right then she decided she would do so. And right soon, if the occasion presented itself.

  Zachariah got down on one knee beside her and took the hammer from her hand. She could see he was about to reach for the remaining nail which was between her lips. Quickly, she fumbled for it, pulling it out and handing it to him.

  He held the nail against the bottom of the sign.

  “Paint’s still wet,” Katy warned.

  With a swift swing, the nail went successfully through the sign and into the pole. Ben let out a cheer. “See Mamm! Mr. Zach can do anything!”

  Zach flushed at that and kept his eyes on the sign. “I need one more nail.”

  Ben scurried to the barn to get him one. “Here, you go,” he said upon returning.

  With another swing of the hammer, the sign was secure. Zach stood, pulling up the sign with him.

  “Where do you want it?” he asked Naomi, looking at her with blue eyes that shone like cobalt.

  She stepped back and swallowed. “Please don’t worry yourself,” she said, reaching to take the sign from him. “The children and I can take it from here.”

  He hesitated, not loosening his grip on the post. “It’s no bother.” His voice was low and thick with meaning.

  Again, she wondered if he was somehow trying to announce his interest, stake his claim so to speak. She had wondered it the night he’d stopped in during the supper hour, when Justin Moore was staying. Now, she wondered it again.

  But before she could determine anything, he let go of the post and nodded at her. “There you are then.” And with that, he turned and walked back around the barn.

  “Thank you,” she called after him. Before Ben could urge him back, she smiled at her children. “Shall we go dig a hole?”

  Ben grinned and ran toward the barn. “I’m gettin’ the shovel!” he called over his shoulder.

  They found a nice smooth spot at the base of their drive, and Naomi let Ben dig the first few shovelfuls. It was hard-going, though, and Katy took over. After she’d dug a few shovelfuls full of rocks mixed with the dirt, she handed the shovel to Naomi.

  “How deep does it got to be?” Ben asked.

  “Deep enough so it d
oesn’t fall over in the first wind.”

  Katy scowled. “I think we need some cement.”

  Naomi stood straight and regarded her daughter. “You’re probably right, but we’ll try it this way first.” She dug further and then picked up the sign.

  “I’ll hold it for you, Mamm,” Ben offered, dragging the sign into the hole and standing it up straight.

  “Thank you, son.” Naomi shoveled loose dirt and rocks around the post. Katy stomped it down hard. Naomi dropped the shovel and joined her in jumping up and down on the dirt. She looked at Katy and started to laugh.

  “Is this what the Englisch call dancing?” she asked.

  Katy grinned. “I don’t think so.”

  Naomi grabbed her hands around the sign, and they began circling it, stomping and laughing. Ben let go of the post and joined them. They went round and round until Naomi was dizzy.

  “Stop!” she cried holding up her hand. “I’m going to fall over!”

  “This is fun,” Ben said, grabbing Naomi around the waist.

  “Jah, it is.” Naomi backed up a few paces and observed the sign.

  Byler’s Bed & Breakfast.

  “It doesn’t look so bad,” Katy said.

  “I think it looks right fine,” Naomi assured her. “Thank you, children, for your help. Now, let’s hope we get some business.”

  They walked back to the barn, with Ben dragging the shovel behind him.

  Chapter Three

  Naomi stood at the clothesline, hanging up the sheets from the daadi haus. When she hung the towel that Justin had used, her mind went to the letter she’d tucked safely away in her top drawer under her neatly organized clothes. Her thoughts circled the return address he’d put at the bottom of the page. Did he truly expect her to write back?

  She’d asked herself the question a hundred times. Part of her wanted to. In fact, it would be right nice to have a pen pal of sorts. She could tell him about the bishop’s approval and the new sign on the road. She could tell him that she was thinking about getting a cell phone so that potential guests could contact her.

  But why would Justin Moore be interested in such things? And why would she tell him such things in the first place?