An Amish Easter Wish

Beth Ann chuckled. “You’d figure out some other way to get by.” She scanned the kitchen while Abby went to the pantry and lifted out a stack of insulated cups. “Are you alone here today?”

“Ja. That nasty cold has half the town in bed and the other half trying to avoid catching it.”

“I know. That’s why we’ve only got five on the painting crew today.”

Abby poured kaffi from the big urn and set packets of creamer and sugar onto one of the trays used to transport drinks to the various building and work sites. “We need to contact Isaac to see if anyone up north can come down for a few days.”

“That’s already been done.” Beth Ann hefted the tray. “I heard someone over at the high school saying your brother will have more volunteers here by the end of the week.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Thanks, Abby.” She turned to go, then paused. “Oh… I almost forgot the reason I came by. Glen wants to see you.”

Glen Landis was the project manager for the rebuilding in Evergreen Corners. He worked for a Mennonite organization but coordinated with Amish Helping Hands and other groups who’d sent volunteers and supplies to help. As well, he kept each project on schedule by making sure building materials were ready when the crews needed them. Handling any disputes was also part of his job, and he did it so well Abby had heard of only one instance where there had been a major disagreement.

He was the busiest man in town. Maybe in the whole state, and Abby knew his time was precious. If he wanted to see her, it must be for something important.

“When?” she asked.

“Now.” Beth Ann gave her a guilty grin. “I was supposed to deliver the message an hour ago, but I got waylaid when I was recruited to help unload a truck of donated furniture. I must have carried two dozen lamps into the town barn. People can come and pick out what they want once their houses are repaired.” Rolling her eyes as if she were no older than the teen volunteers, she said, “Look! I’m delaying you again, and the coffee is getting cold.”

“Sounds like I don’t have any time to waste, do I?” Abby followed the other woman to the door. Grabbing her coat and black bonnet, she closed the door.

Beth Ann strode away toward the center of town, but Abby lingered for a moment to draw in a deep breath of the fresh air that was flavored by mud and the aroma of freshly cut lumber. It’d been close to freezing when she’d come to work before dawn. Now the sunshine was making the snow dwindle into puddles.

She smiled when her feet sank into the damp earth as she crossed the village green. The faint color of new grass was visible beneath the brown remnants from last fall. Without snow, the damaged gazebo appeared more rickety. That project must wait until homes and businesses were safe and repaired.

And then she would need to leave Evergreen Corners. She didn’t like to think about that. In the small town, she’d found many ways to help. At home, her older brother would have everything under control, as he always did. There wouldn’t be anything for her to do, he’d tell her as he had so often, other than to find a husband and set up a household of her own.

Abby didn’t realize she’d been stamping her feet with the intensity of her thoughts until the heel of her boot got stuck. She wiggled it free and rushed toward the sidewalk as she forced herself to calm down. Isaac believed the only way she could find happiness was to marry.

She didn’t have anything against marriage. In fact, she dreamed of becoming the wife of a man who loved her, but she didn’t trust her heart. The last time she’d listened to it, putting her own yearnings first, tragedy had followed. A shiver rushed along her spine when the memories of that night almost nine years ago exploded. Instead of being there for Bert, a troubled young man she’d known needed help, she’d thought of spending time with Wilmer, who’d caught her eye and made her heart beat faster. Her heart had betrayed her, because Bert might not have been injured in an accident when he challenged Wilmer to a buggy race. At the time they’d lined up their buggies, she’d been asleep, never knowing about the drama playing out along the road not far from her family’s farm. She hadn’t imagined what could happen and how her name and reputation would become synonymous with the accident.

Since that night, when she’d joined others praying Bert wouldn’t die, and during the long months of his recovery and Wilmer’s trial afterward, she’d promised herself and God she wouldn’t let her desires come before anyone else’s. She would focus on helping with her family’s move to Vermont two years ago as well as volunteering to work with Amish Helping Hands. That had kept her too busy for walking out with a young man, especially the wrong young man. Not that she’d ever met anyone who made her think of walking out together.

Except David Riehl.

She silenced that thought as she reached for the door in one wing of the high school. David was an Englischer with no time for walking out, either. What did she know about him other than he was struggling to be the daed to a teenager?

Not giving herself a chance to answer, Abby went into the school. She stopped at the office to let them know she had a meeting with Glen and then half ran to his office, knowing she was late.

She knocked on the door with its frosted glass and heard the call for her to come in. As she’d expected, Glen sat behind a cluttered desk in what had been a classroom in the high school. For the past five months, it had served as an office for the project manager who oversaw the volunteers and vendors together with the families who were having their homes rebuilt. Calendars listing when supplies should be ordered and when they’d be delivered vied for space along the walls with house plans. Samples of flooring and cabinet doors were stacked in one corner while cases of light bulbs leaned at a precarious angle against another.

“Come in, Abby!” he said as a greeting when he stood. His kind face was lined with more wrinkles daily. “We’ve just started.”

We?

In astonishment, she saw the man who’d been filling her thoughts rising from a straight chair across the desk from Glen. She almost demanded to know why David was part of the meeting, then bit back the words. She was there to help, not cause friction.

“Danki,” she said when David cleared another chair of stacks of paper so she’d have a place to sit.

Folding her hands on her lap, Abby waited for Glen to speak. She didn’t have to wait long.

As he sat, pulling his chair in closer to his desk, the project manager said, “You may have heard I wasn’t in favor of having youth volunteers when it was first suggested to me.”

Abby nodded. Michael Miller, an Amish volunteer who’d decided to remain in Evergreen Corners in the hope of building a church district in the town, had first suggested having the teens help. Once he was baptized, he would marry and share with his family one of the new houses set far enough from the brook that they shouldn’t be flooded again. The mayor had hired him to build new shelves in the library, but that project had been put on hold. So, for now, he’d kept working with the house crews, using his skills as a fine carpenter to piece together moldings and window frames.

“You’ve changed your mind,” David said.

“Completely. I’ve talked with the supervisors at each building site, and they agree with me.”

“Agree about what?” Abby asked.

“That we need to make our teens into a cohesive group that works together while enjoying the special fellowship they would experience if they weren’t volunteering so many hours. We’re developing a program to balance their volunteer hours and their homework hours and allow them time for socializing with each other. We want, as well, to include faith lessons as part of the program.” Glen leaned forward and folded his arms on his desk. When papers crunched under his elbows, he grimaced. He moved the offending papers and then refolded his arms on the empty blotter. “We want to give them the tools they need to deal with the challenges they’re facing right now.”

“So you’ve heard about the bullying, too?” Abby couldn’t see any reason not to be blunt.

He nodded, his expression grim. “We would like to think when someone sees a gathering of brothers and sisters toiling in God’s name, that sight should inspire love. Unfortunately, some young people prefer to belittle our volunteers.”

“Talking to the bullies’ parents—”

“Has obtained us promises they’ll speak with their children. Some of the bullies have stopped. A couple have inquired about helping us. However, a core of about five teens have continued to be disruptive.”

“What can I do to help?” Abby asked.

David cut his eyes toward her as he corrected, “What can we do to help?”

“That’s what I meant,” she hurried to add.

He looked away, but this time he wasn’t hiding anything from her. He was irritated at her choice of words. She hadn’t wanted to speak for anyone but herself. He should know that. With a start, she realized—again—she had no idea what he should know because she didn’t know him.

“I’m glad to hear both of you are eager to get this program going,” Glen said with a broadening smile. “We need two adult coordinators to develop our program and work with the kids on a two-to three-times-a-week basis. Will you be willing to get us started?”

“Ja, of course, we will.” Abby stiffened. She should have thought before she blurted her answer because she was committing David to something he might not want to do. He had a lot on his plate with Mikayla and his repair business.

However, working with the teens could be the best way for her to help David and Mikayla grow closer. They’d been brought together by tragedy, but they needed to believe God wanted them to have joy and love in their lives. Could David see that? She must not push too hard because she’d already learned both David and Mikayla were stubborn. Being subtle when she could help people wasn’t her strong point, but she must try.

“I mean,” she added, hoping she hadn’t already messed up this opportunity to help David and Mikayla and the other teens, “I am willing to help with this program.”

“Good.” Glen turned to focus on the man sitting beside her. “And what about you, David?”

She gasped. She hadn’t intended to put David in the hot seat and she hoped he’d see the needs of his family as she did. If he didn’t… No, she didn’t want to think her hopes had been dashed before they’d come to life.

David didn’t have to look at Abby to know she was sorry for having spoken out of turn again. First, she’d acted as if she didn’t want to work with him; next, she was volunteering him without asking if he was interested. He’d heard her quick intake of breath in the silence following the calm question Glen had posed to him.

Every instinct told him to jump to his feet and tell Glen he had the wrong guy. If David agreed to this idea, he—and Mikayla—would be spending more time with the Amish volunteers.

Mikayla already talked about Abby almost every time she opened her mouth. His daughter didn’t need to spend more time with her. Mikayla would want to be part of the program, and the one way he could be certain she didn’t put herself in a position to be hurt as his parents had been was to be there to keep an eye on her.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to find the time with the work he had lined up, but he’d vowed at Boyd’s funeral to take care of Mikayla as if she were his own flesh and blood. Somehow, he’d figure out what to do. He’d go over his schedule to find pockets of time to spend with the teens.

Knowing what he must do didn’t halt him from being cautious enough to say, “I like this idea, Glen, but I think Abby and I need some time to talk about how we would handle this.”

Abby looked at him in astonishment. Did she always jump off a cliff without bothering to see how deep the chasm was?

He couldn’t do that. He had to consider each of the alternatives in the hope of seeing a solution instead of getting tangled up in his emotions. That was the way to deal with problems. He looked at his hands spread across his knees. His knuckles were pale from where he’d been gripping his legs.

“I can give you a couple of days,” Glen replied. “No more. The bullying seems to be getting worse. I want to, as they used to say in the old movies, head the problem off at the pass. I can’t think of anyone better to do the job than you two.” He relaxed and smiled. “To tell you the truth, I asked around for recommendations, and your names were the ones I heard over and over. Abby, you’ve done a tremendous job with the teens and, David, the word around Evergreen Corners is you can fix anything.”

David smiled wryly. “I don’t know if people meant I could put an end to bullying. It’s not like finding the right part and installing it.”

“I think it is,” Abby said. “We need to figure out what’s bothering those youngsters and help them.”

“We’re not talking about Amish kids here.” He tried to keep his annoyance out of his voice. “Your kids may be well behaved but—”

Her laugh halted him. “Our kinder can be as badly behaved as Englisch ones.” She grew serious. “I know Englischers like to think we’re different because of what we wear and how we try to live our lives as close as we can to Jesus’s teachings, but we’re human beings. Everyone makes mistakes, and we hope we can learn from those. Most important, we learn to offer forgiveness and accept it.”

He wanted to say that wasn’t the experience his family had, but talking about the past wouldn’t help deal with the future. “Look, we need to talk about this, and I’m sure Glen has other things to do than to listen to us.”

The project manager gave them a grin as he patted a stack of papers almost eight inches high. “These have to be handled before I can hit the hay tonight. So talk it over when you have a chance and get back to me in two days. I’d like to be able to give you longer, but I can’t. We need to deal with this before it becomes a crisis.”

David stood and watched as Abby did, every motion she made graceful. As he turned to leave, Glen called his name.

He turned. “Something else?”

“I wanted to let you know we’ll be deciding in the next month whose three houses we’re going to build next.”

“Good.” He was too aware of Abby listening, so he didn’t give Glen a chance to say more before he walked out of the room. Aware of Abby following him down the hallway to the office, he waited for her to sign out after he had. He held the outside door open for her.

She paused on the sidewalk and faced him. “Are you going to be working on the next houses?”

“I lend a hand now and then when I can.”

The answer seemed to satisfy her because she asked, “Do you have time for a cup of kaffi?” A warm flush climbed her cheeks, brightening them until they matched the soft pink shade of her dress. “I mean, coffee.”

He smiled. “What you said was close enough to English so I could figure it out. Yes, I think having a chat is a good idea.”

“Let’s go to the diner.” Twin dimples emphasized her smile. “I’ve been curious what it looks like now, and they should have the windows open on the sunporch so we can enjoy this beautiful day.” She must have misread his hesitation because she added, “My treat.”

He forced any hints of surprise from his face. He’d heard his father complain that the Amish were so frugal they wouldn’t spend a penny unless absolutely necessary. Abby was offering to pay the tab. Though it wasn’t for more than a cup of coffee, her easy offer contradicted what he’d assumed was true.

Had he misunderstood his father? He couldn’t keep from wondering if she were unique among the plain people or if he, like his daughter, was setting his new family up for trouble.

In either case, the only way he would know for certain was to spend as much time with her as Mikayla did, so his daughter wouldn’t be blindsided and hurt.

Chapter Four

Della’s Diner was at the center of Evergreen Corners, just west of the bridge crossing Washboard Brook that bisected the village. It faced a huge mill building that had been converted to artists’ lofts. Most studios on the lower two floors had been damaged during the flood. The building’s foundation had been undermined, so nobody could go inside until the stone was replaced by concrete.

The diner had been half stripped away by the rushing water, but its owners had shored it up as soon as the brook began to recede. It had reopened three weeks ago.

David wondered what had changed inside and was surprised to see not much had. The light green walls glistened with fresh paint. They were covered with new pictures of chickens and roosters as well as knickknacks sitting on open shelving in the place of the old pictures and bric-a-brac that had washed away. Everywhere he looked there was poultry of various colors from traditional to a steampunk rooster set next to the cash register. That rooster was made out of bright purple metal with faucet handles for eyes and webbed feet like a goose. He was amazed the owners had found so many items to replace the lost ones.

A few patrons sat at the counter running along one wall toward a swinging door to the kitchen. Pies topped with generous amounts of meringue were displayed in tiered glass cases set not far from the coffeepots giving off an enticing aroma.

A middle-aged waitress came forward to greet them. Her astonishment when she glanced at Abby was quickly hidden behind her professional smile.

He had thought, by now, the residents of Evergreen Corners would be accustomed to seeing plain people. He almost laughed. Not a ha-ha laugh, but an ironic one. He’d stared the same way himself when he’d realized Mikayla’s Abby was Amish.

The waitress held a pair of menus. “Inside or on the sunporch?”

“Sunporch,” David said, thinking of how Abby had mentioned sitting by an open window.

Abby had noticed Glen’s comments as they were leaving, but seemed to believe that Glen had been asking for his help. Letting her think that meant he didn’t have to answer questions—as he had for FEMA personnel and Boyd’s private insurance company—about the house where Boyd had raised his daughter. It’d been destroyed in the flood during Hurricane Kevin last fall. If Mikayla hadn’t been living with David, she could have been lost in the storm. He hadn’t spoken of that to anyone, but it tainted his dreams night after night.

“This way.” The waitress aimed another glance, one she must have figured was too surreptitious for anybody to notice, at Abby before leading the way through a broad doorway to the diner’s other room.

If Abby noticed the waitress’s gawking, she gave no sign. Was she used to people staring? She might be too polite to acknowledge them. Or maybe—and he was astonished how much he wished this was true—she hadn’t seen the waitress’s looks in her direction.

He was shocked at the sense of protectiveness surging through him. Not because he wanted to make sure his daughter wasn’t hurt again. This time, he longed to shield Abby from being wounded by a rude look in her direction. Shocked by his reaction, he pushed it aside and focused on following the two women onto the sunporch.

A row of windows lined one wall and the others were decorated with more chickens. A couple of televisions hung near the ceiling and were on but muted. Both were showing weather maps of the Midwest with areas marked in red for strong storms.

The waitress led them to a table next to a window. As he glanced out, he noticed the brook was much higher than it’d been a few days ago. Snow on the mountains flanking the valley must be thawing fast. The water was a pale brown with mud, and white foam marked the large boulders. Even with the spring melt, the brook remained below its banks.

David took the seat across from where Abby sat and smiled his thanks when the waitress handed them each a menu and hurried away to seat other patrons.

“What’s tasty?” Abby asked.

He hesitated, aware she’d offered to pay for their tab. “The coffee’s good.”

“I saw those pies on the counter. Don’t you think we need to try some? A friend of mine makes them, so I’m sure they’re delicious.”

Though he was curious which of her friends baked the pies, he didn’t want to pry. Better to keep his distance on any personal matter when dealing with the plain folk. He’d learned that from his folks, though they’d never used those exact words. Instead he’d listened to what they hadn’t said about their lives as Amish.

When the waitress returned to the table, Abby ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie. He asked for coffee as well as chocolate-cream pie. He could see that pleased Abby. Now that he’d volunteered to work with her, he should get to know her better, so he could discover what strengths she had to offer as well as any ideas. He wanted to get their project started. The sooner begun, the sooner finished.

Or at least he hoped so.

“So were you born and raised in Evergreen Corners?” Abby asked after two cups were set on the table.

“I moved here before I started school.” He stirred sugar into his cup. “I’ve lived here long enough that everyone accepts me as a native.”

“What made you decide to be a repairman?”

“I like using tools and figuring out puzzles, so it seemed an obvious step to fix broken appliances.” He waited until plates topped by generous slabs of pie were set between them. After he thanked the waitress, he asked Abby, “Do you always ask people you work with questions?”

Her smile looked far more genuine than his had felt. “I ask everyone questions. How else can I learn about people if I don’t ask? I know you’re Mikayla’s guardian and you’re concerned about her and her friends. That’s it.”

“I know you like to cook and you’re Amish.” He didn’t add how often his daughter spoke her name…on the few occasions when Mikayla talked.

“I don’t enjoy cooking that much. What I love is baking.” She took a bite of her pie. “Though I don’t think I’ve ever baked anything as delicious as this.”

He didn’t respond as he might have with anyone else. His parents had often told him how plain people disdained bragging about themselves or others.

Instead he said the obvious. “Glen wants us to work together with the kids.”

“Ja.” Faint pink brightened her cheeks. “I’m sorry if I forced you to accept the assignment.”

“You didn’t force me. I want to help the kids deal with these bullies.”

“Has it been going on long?”

“The bullying?” He took a drink of coffee, savoring its flavor while he thought about when he’d first heard rumors of the bullies. “About three to four months, as far as I know.”

She leaned back in her chair and looked out the window, offering him a view of her profile. Her chin might be a bit too assertive, but her face was lovely from any angle.

Taking another gulp of coffee, he silenced the thought. He shouldn’t be thinking about anything but trying to convince Mikayla that they were family. And he shouldn’t be admiring the Amish woman sitting on the other side of the table. What irony that the first woman who’d caught his attention in years lived the life his parents disdained.

“I wonder,” she mused, “if the bullying has anything to do with the tragedies inflicting Evergreen Corners.”

“I don’t see any reason how or why.”

“And I can’t see any reason how or why not.”

He arched his brows. “You’re beginning to sound like a true Vermonter.”

“Really?”

“Vermonters enjoy being contrary, or so we’re told.” He folded his arms on top of the checkered tablecloth. “There’s one thing we agree on. The weather is and always will be the most important topic.”