Luke watched Ira enter their small front room, irritated at his buoyant mood. His brother had the nerve to wave a covered foil pie pan at him, his dark brows arched above teasing brown eyes. “Wilma felt sorry for ya and sent ya a go-box,” he said as he set the package on the kitchen counter.
Luke inhaled the aroma of fried chicken, realizing how hungry he was. “What’d you tell them?”
Ira shrugged. “I said you were lickin’ your wounds after—”
“You did
not
!”
“—a lover’s quarrel,” his brother continued cheerfully. “What else could I say? It’s the truth.”
Luke stood up to look out the other window, where he watched Nora’s kitchen light come on. “And what’d Nora say to that? If that’s what you really told everyone—”
“Guess you’ll have to ask
her
, ain’t so? What’s your problem with that, anyway?” Ira demanded in an edgier tone. “What with Gabe takin’ her back into the family, and Nora gettin’ baptized into the Mennonite church next Sunday, you’ll never find her in a more forgivin’ mood. Go talk to her!”
Nora was getting baptized next Sunday? Although this information came as no surprise to Luke, he hadn’t realized the fetching redhead was so close to becoming a church member. And with Ira taking his instruction, probably to join the Old Order in another month or so, Luke felt a gnawing emptiness in the pit of his stomach.
Merely a month ago Nora had turned Willow Ridge on its ear by buzzing into town in her shiny red convertible and short-shorts—and his brother had been a freewheeling bachelor enjoying an extended state of
rumspringa
. Two people Luke admired for their rebellious sense of fun-loving freedom were settling down, signing on to accept responsibilities he’d
so
enjoyed avoiding.
Where did that leave him? It was probably only a matter of time before Ira married Millie, too. And if Nora met up with some fellow in the Morning Star congregation . . . Mennonite couples had to be baptized into the church before they could marry, the same as Amish couples . . .
Do you have to be as stubborn as you are stupid ? Is Hiram going to win this one?
“I really don’t get you anymore, Luke,” Ira remarked with a disgusted sigh. “You used to go after every little thing you wanted from your women, and you got it! Now you’re mopin’ around—
poutin’
! What are ya, thirty or thirteen?”
“Lay off.”
“Fine. Have it your way,” Ira retorted. “After all the roads you and I’ve run together, I never figured ya for a quitter, Luke. Or a coward.”
Luke let that last remark pass. It came too close to the truth.
“And ya know
gut
and well that if ya keep this up, Bennie and the aunts’ll be quizzin’ ya, and buttin’ into your private life,” Ira went on. “Whatever ya did to Nora—or whatever she did to you—it’s gonna keep chewin’ on ya until ya kiss and make up.
She
seems just fine. Which tells me you’re stewin’ in your own juice.”
“Okay, so you’re right,” Luke snapped. “And it’s none of your beeswax, so lay off, got it? I’ll handle it.”
Totally irritated, Luke tromped downstairs and strode across the back lot toward the riverbank. His mind buzzed with opening lines, apologies, and other clever yet heartfelt words that might regain Nora’s affection, but he paused to sit on the big boulder to get his script just right.
From this vantage point Luke could see Nora moving in her kitchen, and shortly after the light went out in that room another one flickered on upstairs. Thoughts of her undressing, getting ready for bed, tormented him—but he’d waited too long. No decent man would knock on her door now, even though it was only nine o’clock and not quite dark.
So Luke sat there for a long while, watching the fireflies drift up from the grass. The lights in the houses around Willow Ridge blinked out as the darkness deepened. It was a peaceful scene, with the river murmuring its lullaby and a few bullfrogs singing along with the cicadas as they’d done for countless years.
But change was in the air.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Matthias, this saddle looks fabulous!” Nora said as he positioned it over a sawhorse she’d draped with a striped blanket. “I’m so glad to have some masculine things in my store instead of just girlie stuff.”
His smile brought back memories from when they’d been much younger, going to singings on Sunday evenings. “With so many hobby farms around here, maybe some of those English folks’ll realize they could be buying their tack locally,” he remarked. “Rebecca gave me the idea for these tote bags with the fold-over flaps. What do you think?”
As her neighbor lifted two tooled leather bags from his box, Nora let out an appreciative
oooh
. “These could be computer bags, or purses, or carry-ons, or—well, whatever anybody wanted them to be,” she replied. “I didn’t know you made pieces like these, Matthias. I might have to buy one of them myself.”
He shrugged almost shyly. “Doesn’t hurt to branch out from the usual harnesses and horse collars,” he remarked. “Now that you’re opening a place to display stuff like this, a lot of the locals might think of things they could be making in their spare time. I—I’m glad you’re back, Nora.”
Her heart fluttered at the hopeful expression on Matthias Wagler’s chiseled face. He’d lost his pregnant wife, Sadie, to an asthma attack a while back, and now he was sharing his home with Adam and Annie Mae—not to mention teenage Nellie and the four younger Knepp kids. No doubt he was feeling a bit displaced these days.
“It’s
gut
to be here with my family again,” she replied. “And such a relief to have all the secrets out in the open and the mysteries about Millie revealed.”
“
Jah
, I wondered where you’d gone all of a sudden, back then,” he replied. “When rumors about you having a baby started around, I didn’t want to believe them. You weren’t that kind of girl, Nora—and when folks quizzed me about it, as though the baby might be mine, I set them straight, too.”
“
Denki
for that,” Nora murmured. She suspected Matthias was working up his courage to suggest a date, but he was a member of the Amish church, so there was no point in encouraging a romantic relationship. “Things fell into place pretty fast once I bought this property,” she said. “It’s wonderful that Millie has accepted me as her mother—and come Sunday, I’m getting baptized into the Mennonite church, and the next weekend the store opens. That’s a lot of progress in a short time!”
Regret flickered in Matthias’s eyes, but then he smiled. “You’ve not allowed any grass to grow under your feet,” he agreed. “Guess I, um, should’ve figured from your pretty print dress that joining the Willow Ridge church wasn’t part of your plan. But I wish you all the best, Nora.”
“
Denki
, Matthias. It’s nice to be welcomed back.”
After they hung three horse collars on the wall to complete the display of Matthias’s work, he got into his open wagon to return to his harness shop down the road. When he was nearly there, he waved and Nora waved back. If their lives had gone differently, maybe the romance that had been budding between them would’ve bloomed into something rich and rewarding.
No sense in regretting what might have been—with Matthias or with Luke
, Nora reminded herself. She’d been disappointed when her neighbor on the other side hadn’t come to supper Sunday night and hadn’t made any effort to talk with her this week. It hadn’t been polite of her to slap him so hard, but Luke’s remarks about Hiram had been way out of line. If he approached her, she would accept his apology before it was all the way out of his mouth—but Luke would have to make the first move.
The crunch of gravel made her turn to watch a horse-drawn wagon loaded with furniture come up her driveway. Aaron Brenneman, the youngest of the brothers who ran the local cabinet shop, grinned at her as he halted the massive Belgian. Seth hopped down from the other side of the seat.
“How’s it goin’, Nora?” Aaron called out. “If you’ll open the door, Seth and I’ll put this stuff wherever ya want it.”
As Nora hurried ahead of them, she was glad she had a big barn door that slid sideways on a track. She’d arranged her store to make it easier for clients with larger pieces to move them in—and for buyers to haul them out. “I’ve saved you a spot on the main level, front and center,” she called over to them.
“
Denki
for not makin’ us haul these pieces up to your loft!” Seth replied with a chuckle. He and his brother were carrying a dining room table between them as though it required no effort whatsoever, but she could tell it was solid and heavy.
When they’d angled the table on the floor the way she wanted it, Nora buffed away their fingerprints with a rag while they went after the chairs. The finish was a beautiful shade of walnut in the center and it darkened as it reached the edges—an effect she’d never seen anywhere else. The backs and the seats of the six sturdy chairs were finished in the same way, and when all seven pieces were in place, the set was a sight to behold.
“Wow,” Nora murmured. “When I imagined opening a store that featured Plain pieces, I never dreamed I’d be carrying furniture like
this
, guys.”
Aaron shrugged modestly. “No point in makin’ stuff nobody would want,” he remarked. “We’ll get that sleigh bed in here now. Ya want it right there?”
Nora nodded when he gestured toward a nearby nook. She was already imagining how the bed would look draped in one of the Schrocks’ quilts, with a crocheted rag rug from her Cedar Creek supplier on the floor beside it. A few minutes later, after Aaron and Seth had carefully set the bed down, she ran her rag over its beautifully carved, curved headboard.
“Did I hear that you and Mary have set your wedding date?” she asked the older Brenneman. “Congratulations!”
“
Jah
, we’re tyin’ the knot in a couple of months,” he replied. “Mary’s been so busy of late, movin’ into the house, I didn’t realize she was sewin’ up a few things for your store. Be back in a few!”
Nora blinked. Seth returned to hand her a big plastic sack, and when she peeked inside, she saw not just one or two Amish dolls, but a whole family of them!
“Oh my word!” She grinned at the two men. “If you’ll bring me that empty mattress box beside the door, I can make up this bed with embroidered sheets and a quilt. These dolls will be sitting pretty on top of it! Tell Mary I’m really tickled that she’s already made so many of them.”
The Brennemans hadn’t even pulled their wagon out of the driveway before Nora was fitting a set of pale yellow sheets over the mattress box. Embroidered butterflies of pink, fuchsia, and blue embellished the pillowcases, which were edged in a variegated crocheted border of the same colors—the sort of handiwork that looked so romantic in a bedroom, but which few women had the time or inclination to craft these days. After she’d tucked Eva Schrock’s flower garden quilt into the sleigh bed’s frame, she folded the crocheted edge of the sheet over it.
Arranging Mary Kauffman’s family of faceless Amish dolls on this quaint, feminine bed made Nora smile. With their solid-colored Plain clothing,
kapps
, and a broad-brimmed hat on the bearded father, the dolls made the perfect addition to the display.
“Looks like your store’s really taking shape, Nora.”
Nora turned to grin at Vernon Gingerich. “I was so engrossed in arranging these new pieces, I didn’t hear you come in,” she admitted. “It’s like playing house, but on a bigger scale. It’s a huge dream coming true.”
“I can see that. It’s written all over your face, dear
Nora,” the kindly bishop replied. “I’ve brought you the pottery and rugs from Cedar Creek, along with a little gift.”
“You’ve saved me a trip.
Denki
so much.” Nora followed him out into the bright sunshine, to the enclosed surrey that held boxes of ceramic pieces and a stack of colorful crocheted rugs. But before he removed these items from his double rig, Vernon lifted a table through the back door and placed it on the ground.
Nora sucked in her breath. The table was about three feet wide and five feet long, made of cherry-wood and polished to a lovely gloss. Its rounded corners were set off with identical carved roses in full bloom, so perfectly crafted that they might have been real flowers.
“I thought you weren’t going to consign anything to my store,” she said. “This is such a fabulous piece, Vernon. It would surely bring hundreds of dollars at your auction.”
“It’s not for sale. I made it for you, Nora.”
Her mouth fell open. “I—I don’t know what to—thank you so very much,” she stammered. “What a treasure.”
Vernon’s blue-eyed gaze embraced her. “I thought a new storekeeper could surely use a place to do her bookwork, or merely to sit for a minute when her customers don’t require her attention. Work and rest,” he went on in a more eloquent tone. “They both belong in our schedule as we go about the business God has called us to.”
“I know where I want to put it, too,” Nora said. “We’ve got a space right outside the office, where we can tend to the record keeping while we watch the store. My daughter, Millie, will be helping me, you know. And—and Dat and I have made our peace,” she added in a rush. “We Glicks are all together as a family again.”
“The
gut
news traveled fast, from Bishop Tom’s barn phone to mine,” Vernon replied with a chuckle. “We’re both glad that God’s wisdom has settled over this situation, and that your
dat
’s health has been restored, as well. I see those two things working together, as two parts of the whole blessing.”
After they placed the table and its matching chair on the dais outside the office, Nora and Vernon unloaded the crates of pottery and the rugs. The bishop said his good-byes and headed down the road, leaving Nora to contemplate the selection of beautiful pottery as she unpacked it. The bowls, pitchers, vases—and dinner place settings for four—glowed on the new shelving. Nora arranged one place setting of the dishes on the dining room table, loving the simplicity of their warm ivory color, which was accented with rings of rust and cobalt around the edges.
She positioned the largest of the rag rugs, crocheted with fabric strips in deep rose, cream, and yellow, beneath the Brenneman table. She hung the other rugs from hanger bars that extended out from the wall so customers could get a good look at them. After she put a folded paper placard on the table, telling about the Brenneman brothers of Willow Ridge, she made similar signs about Zanna Ropp in Cedar Creek, who had crocheted the five colorful rugs, and Amanda Brubaker, who’d created the pottery.
Nora’s rumbling stomach told her it was time for a break, but she wandered back to admire the cherry table Vernon had made for her. It seemed the perfect place to put a monitor for the security camera system, so she quickly set it up. With the push of a button, she began watching the various nooks and display areas of the store rotating on the screen. Plenty of space remained for her or Millie to do bookwork on the table—
Nora gripped the top of the chair. On the screen, she saw Hiram Knepp entering the shop. When he noticed the swivel of the camera that was mounted above him, he flashed a cocky smile at it—at her—and then wound his way between the displays to where she was standing.
“You’ve had quite a stream of gentlemen callers, Nora,” he said in a silken voice. “I was wondering if I’d get my turn.”
Goose flesh raced up Nora’s spine—the
willies
that hit her when something creeped her out. Had Hiram really been watching the comings and goings at her store all morning? Or was he just saying that to frighten her?
“You are the queen of
heat
in that pink print dress.” Hiram stopped mere inches away from her, well aware that he’d invaded her space and trapped her against the table. “It calls to mind the color of a woman’s skin between her—”
“What do you need?” Nora interrupted brusquely. “I’m ready to go—”
“You lead and I’ll follow. You know what I need,” he whispered suggestively. He raised a finger to her face but Nora smacked it away.
“Leave!
Now
,” she snapped. She inhaled, trying to control the sick, woozy feeling in her head. Her first impulse was to call the sheriff, but her phone was in the office. If Hiram cornered her in there, she’d be very, very sorry.
“What kind of talk is that for a lamb who’s to be baptized in a few days?” Hiram asked in a voice edged with sarcasm. “If you were a seeker in
my
district, I’d have you on your knees begging for my—”
“But Nora’s
not
in your district,” came a loud male voice from the doorway. “I’ve got the sheriff on speed dial, Hiram. Wherever you take off to, he’ll know it’s
you
in that vintage black Caddie, won’t he?”
Oh, thank you, Lord!
Nora prayed when she spotted Luke and heard the solid tattoo of his boots crossing the floor.
Hiram eased away from her, but he didn’t appear ready to leave. “There’ll come a day when Hooley won’t arrive in the nick of time,” he remarked caustically. “Then you and I can become partners on more than just a business level. You know you need me, Nora. I
know
too much.”
“You don’t know
beans
,” Nora blurted. It was exactly the wrong tone, the wrong attitude for dealing with Hiram—or was it? Maybe she could end this farce once and for all—if Luke would play along. Would he do that for her? Or had he come to pay her back for the way she’d slapped him and told him off? His face looked ruddy and set, his eyes as hard and green as marbles.
Slipping her arm around Luke’s waist, Nora gazed up at him with an expression of utter, head-over-heels love. “What you
don’t
know, Hiram, is that you were exactly right at the diner,” she said boldly. “When you told me I was a thoroughbred yoked to an ox? Well, Luke and I
are
a team now—engaged, matter of fact. We’re both the best of our breeds, so I
don’t
need you. And I have never
wanted
you. Got it?”