Summer of Secrets (14 page)

Read Summer of Secrets Online

Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

Tags: #Restaurants, #Christian Fiction, #Amish, #Betrothal, #Love Stories, #Religious, #General, #Triplets, #Fiction, #Amish & Mennonite, #Christian, #Romance

Chapter 15
 
Come two o’clock the next afternoon, Preacher Tom and Deacon Reuben sat down in the café at the table in the far corner, followed soon after by the bishop—who made purposeful eye contact with Miriam in the kitchen before he took his seat. She waved and nodded—as though the Sweet Seasons ever closed when the sign on the door said it did! Rhoda poured the elders some iced tea and lemonade and then checked on the long table of ladies who’d arrived in a van from a senior center at one forty-five.
“Well, bite my tongue!” Naomi murmured under her breath. “Sometimes I wonder how those fellows can take off from their day’s work whenever they please. But you didn’t catch
me
complainin’, Miriam, because you let me do that, too.”
Brushing flour from her apron, Miriam chuckled. “Didn’t hear a thing ya just implied, on account of those older ladies havin’ such a fine, fun time laughin’ over their lunch. Couldn’t ask for a better cook than you, friend.”
“So what’ll ya say if he closes us down?”
There was worry peeking around Naomi’s bright brown eyes, and Miriam was well aware of what her best friend’s income meant to the Brenneman family. “Not sure he’s aimin’ to shut the doors, dear. Just wants me to behave myself, is all.”
“And he thinks keepin’ you home will do
that ?
Puh!”
Miriam shrugged and cut a generous wedge of rhubarb cream pie, another of crustless fudge pie, and one of cherry. “It’s all a matter of how you consider the act of
submission
, Naomi. There’s the side where you roll over belly-up like a dog and always say
jah
, and there’s the kind where you submit the work of your hands as an offering—especially to God.”
Naomi watched as she plated the desserts. “Hmmm ... no need to ask what ya plan to try, then.”
“Might surprise ya.” She added a scoop of vanilla-bean ice cream to the fruit pies and topped the chocolate slice with a dollop of whipped cream and a bright red cherry. “I learned things about Hiram Knepp while Jesse was deacon, and I’m askin’ God to remind me of them at all the right times.”
“You go along now. The girls and I’ll redd up.”

Jah. Denki
, Naomi. Couldn’t run this place without
you
.”
With her plates of pie on a tray, Miriam walked through the dining room. She chatted briefly with two of the white-haired ladies from the senior center, who asked what she’d used to season the fresh green beans. Then she set her desserts in the center of the brethren’s table. After she took a plain black book from the drawer in the serving station, she sat in the empty chair. Couldn’t miss the way Hiram had arranged it so she sat by him.
“Afternoon, gentlemen.” She smoothed her kapp and folded her hands on her lap, waiting.
“Well, now, Bishop—we couldn’t’ve picked a better place for this meetin’, ain’t so?” Reuben Reihl grabbed the fudge pie before anyone else could. Tom reached for the cherry, but then sat back to allow the bishop
his
choice.
Was Hiram holding out to prove he could resist her offering? Or did he consider it a bribe? “As I said the other evening, Miriam, I’m concerned about the long hours this business requires of you. I fear you focus your time and attention on the café rather than upon any man who might make you a suitable husband.”
Bless him, Tom Hostetler glanced at the stern, black-haired bishop and then smiled cautiously at her as Hiram reached for the cherry pie. Miriam flashed him a grateful grin ... she had an ally here, anyway—even if they’d have to go along with whatever the bishop decided.
“And what’re you sayin’, Bishop? As
I
mentioned before, the Sweet Seasons wouldn’t be much of a bakery without its baker.” She opened the ledger and slid the book in front of him, careful not to bump his pie plate. “Not a prideful thing to say, when ya consider the wages I pay Naomi for her long days cookin’, and the way the café supports Leah’s truck farmin’, too,” she explained carefully. “In exchange for those two women not always bein’ in their own kitchens, their boys and Dan Kanagy get their breakfast here, on the house, nearly every mornin’. Not to mention the way I’ve kept myself and the girls goin’, without havin’ to request assistance after Jesse passed.”
Hiram’s eyebrow arched. “We are to trust in God’s providential care—”

Jah
. And I’m pleased to be an earthly hand for the gracious arm of God’s providence, too.” Miriam ran her finger under a line item she was particularly pleased about. “I made this extra donation to the church’s emergency fund last spring, on account of how Ezra Brenneman wouldn’t accept my money when he had that bad reaction to his new medication. Ended up in the hospital for more’n a week, he did. And when Reuben took a check to the hospital, my donation covered a
gut
part of what Ezra owed.”
The bishop perused the handwritten entries for a few moments, absently chewing a large bite of pie. “These are impressive figures, Miriam. Almost too good to be true, considering what I’ve seen from some of our other local businesses of late.” He looked across the table. “You’re the money manager, Reuben. What do
you
think of these entries?”
Reuben sent her an apologetic glance as he accepted the ledger. “I can tell ya that Miriam’s figure for that donation is accurate, on account of how she handed me the money personally.”
“And how was the church ledger when you took it over after Jesse passed?” she asked quietly. “Were all the funds accurately accounted for?”
“To the penny. Had no trouble a-tall knowin’ which amounts had been withdrawn, and from which accounts,” the middle-aged deacon replied. “God knew what he was doin’ when he had your husband draw that lot.”
Miriam’s insides fluttered. She had to proceed very carefully ... walk a line as fine as the ones drawn beneath the columns of neatly written figures in her ledger. With trembling fingers she slipped an envelope out of the pocket on the first page. “You would recall, then, the way Jesse wrote and formed his numbers? As he did on this ticket he made out for shoein’ your horses and repairin’ some garden implements?”
Beside her the bishop shifted, frowning. But Reuben’s expression confirmed her hunch about presenting her facts and figures this way, thank God above.
“This don’t look a thing like the records in the church ledger.” Reuben blinked and then glanced at her café ledger again. “
That
’s the very handwritin’ in the church books, right there!”
“And how did
that
happen, Miriam?” Hiram Knepp shifted closer to her, to establish his superior height and position. “Women are not chosen as officers in the church, so are therefore forbidden access to the records!”

Jah
, Jesse knew that when the deacon’s lot fell to him,” she murmured, praying she didn’t further endanger her restaurant’s fate by being honest. “And God knew, too, that while my husband was a fine, upstandin’ businessman and committed to his responsibilities for the People, he ... well, Jesse could tote up a column of figures in his head faster than you ate that pie, Reuben. But he was dyslexic. Somewhere between his eyes and his mind, his letters and numbers got switched around, and the teachers in our Amish school couldn’t give him the help he needed, ya see. So I did his readin’ and writin’ for him, from the time we were courtin’.”
Across from her, Tom gaped. “I—I had no idea Jesse was—”
“Huh! Just like ole Jess not to beg off, on account of somethin’ bein’ hard for him,” Reuben replied with a decisive nod.
“That’s the most underhanded, dishonest—” Hiram’s raised voice carried all over the room. He stood, as though he were leaving in a huff. “It is not
our way
to allow women access to our accounts or the overseeing of church monies—and Jesse knew that all along, yet he never confessed to this wrongdoing!”
Miriam felt glances from the kitchen and the ladies from the senior center, who were getting their checks rung up at the door. The dining room was so quiet they heard Rhoda drop her pen at the cash register.
“The lot fell to Jesse, Bishop. Would’ve been a disgrace to refuse God’s call, ain’t so?” she asked in a still, small voice. “He and I prayed on it. Decided that since God knew of Jesse’s disability—
made
him that way, for whatever reason—I was in the picture so my husband could carry out the work he’d been ordained to do. Womenfolk are to be their husbands’ helpmates,
jah?
The Good Book says it’s so.”
Was that anger in Hiram’s eyes? Or did he resent how she’d proven that her house—and her business—were in order? “I’ve seen and heard enough,” he remarked as he plucked his hat from a peg on the wall. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Lantz.”
Reuben and Tom scooted their chairs back, signaling the meeting’s end. “
Gut
pie, too,” the deacon murmured as he passed her.
“Mighty
gut
, Miriam,” Preacher Hostetler echoed.
As silence filled the dining room, Miriam closed her eyes and hugged the ledger to her chest. Jesse had been a master at covering his disability: he’d been the butt of so many
dummkopf
jokes in school, he refused to let such indignities stand in the way of his being a successful blacksmith and church officer. He’d taken his church responsibilities very seriously, and not one penny had gone astray while he served as their deacon.
And ya stood beside me just now, when I needed ya most.
Denki
, dearest Jesse—and God, You, too! Even if the bishop’s not finished with me yet.
 
 
“I got big plans—and a big idea workin’ here—but ya gotta promise me ya won’t peek into the smithy nor let the girls go up into the loft anymore. Can ya do that for me, Miriam?”
Miriam gazed up into Micah’s unlined face, tanned from his outdoor construction work. What a fine, handsome man Naomi’s middle son was as he stood in the kitchen doorway. “Well, it sounds easier to go along with than havin’ the brethren here, takin’ a fine-tooth comb to my accounts,” she replied pertly. “Don’t reckon anythin’ you can surprise me with’ll top that for today.”
“It’s like nothin’ you’ve ever seen. And best of all, it’ll prove that some good came outta my visit with Tiffany.” He motioned to Aaron and Seth, who jumped down from a large wagon loaded with lumber and building supplies. “Seems you and I gotta help each other when it comes to dealin’ with Hiram’s attitude—and Rachel’s. If ya have a little faith in my work—”
“Oh, I know whatever you’re doin’ to that loft’ll be top-notch, Micah.”
“—maybe you and I can prove that the Old Ways’ll work even better for everybody if we give new ideas a chance now and again.”
Nodding, Miriam stepped over to the smithy to hold the door open. The other Brenneman boys began toting two-by-sixes through the smithy and up the stairs, with Micah pointing the way. As their boots clomped up the wooden steps, her heart fluttered: What on earth was this surprise written all over their faces?
“And mostly I hope to prove to Rachel—and to you, Miriam—that only
gut
can come of this reunion with your other daughter. It was meant to be, ain’t so?”

Jah
.
Jah
, it was,” she murmured, suddenly moved by his fervent voice and the way he squeezed her shoulder.
“So you’ll be keepin’ my work a secret then?” he repeated with a grin. “My brothers know just enough that they’re givin’ me the next few days to work on this project, on account of how this might be somethin’ new and really
gut
for our business, if it works like I’ve told them it will.”
Miriam sighed happily and tweaked the brim of his straw hat. “Ya don’t know how this pleases me, Micah, to see ya stretchin’ yourself... riskin’ your time and talent and all the while believin’ things’ll work out for the
gut
,” she remarked quietly. “Reminds me of my Jesse when he was startin’ his smithy business—breakin’ away from the farmin’ his family always did, because he saw we needed a new way of makin’ a livin’.”

Jah
. And he did us all a favor that way—and we still miss him and the
gut
work he did with our horses.” Micah stepped out of the way to let his burly brothers pass, his green eyes shining. “So when ya hear me hammerin’ and shiftin’ stuff around, ya gotta resist the urge to come checkin’ on me—and ya gotta keep my
mamm
outta there, too! When it’s all done,
you
get to see it first. And if ya don’t like it, well, I’ll make it the way ya want it. Least I can do, for the way you’re givin’ up your home to Rachel and me.”
After the ups and downs of this day, Miriam felt ready to cry—until she saw Seth and Aaron wheeling a refrigerator toward the smithy door. “
Ach
, I never thought to—you’ll be needin’ some up-front money to pay for your—”

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