Summer of Secrets
Page 28
And what business do ya have gawkin’ at him? He can’t be thirty yet. More Rhoda’s age than yours!
Thoughts of her grown daughters—how they’d be here with Naomi in a couple of hours to prepare for the breakfast shift—steadied her resolve. She smiled at Ben but she stepped back, too. It wasn’t proper for an Amish woman to behave this way even when no one was watching—except God, of course. “If you’re up to that sort of work, I’d be grateful, as I’ve got my bakin’ to get back to,” she replied. “But if ya feel woozy or short of breath, like ya need a doctor—”
“Your kindness has already worked a miracle cure, Miriam. Right nice of ya to set aside a few of the rules to help me out.”
Had he read her mind? Or did he just know the right things to say? A traveling blacksmith surely had all sorts of experience making deals for what he needed ...
And what sort of fellow, in a trade every Old Order Amish family relied upon, didn’t settle in one community? If Ben knew about the rapids in the river, what else had he checked up on? What if he was making up this story as he went along, to gain some advantage over her—or whomever he met up with—in Willow Ridge?
And what if you’re spinnin’ all this stuff out like a spider, about to catch yourself in a web of assumptions? Just because he’s got a nice smile—
Miriam quickly fetched a broom and dustpan from the closet, relieved that Ben had already stepped outside to see about pulling the big tree branch from her window. She set the tools where he’d find them and then returned to her kitchen, where the lights were brighter and the serving window could be a barrier between this good-looking stranger and her work space.
Jah, he is gut-lookin’. But that’s not his fault, is it?
Miriam laughed at herself. No, Ben Hooley’s looks and manner were gifts from God, same as the way Rachel, Rhoda, and Rebecca favored their handsome dat.
“And what do ya think of all this, Jesse?” she whispered. Every now and again she asked her late husband’s opinion, or thought about how he would’ve handled situations she found herself in, even though her own confidence had increased a lot during these past months of successfully running her business.
Miriam stood quietly at her flour-dusted work table...just the hum of the appliances and the aroma of spicy pumpkin pies kept her company.
Wait for the promise of the Father.
She blinked. Was that still, small voice she relied upon for guidance—be it Jesse’s or God’s—implying the heavenly Father might have made a promise to her? And that He was about to keep it? As glass tinkled onto the café floor and that tree branch disappeared out the gaping hole in the window, she wondered if this had been a providential morning. Meant to be, for both her and Ben.
For sure and for certain, this stranger was giving her a lot to think about.
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Copyright © 2012 by Charlotte Hubbard
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