The Amish Widow's Heart Page 8

  She couldn’t speak, because Mammi’s words were too close to the bone.

  Her mother didn’t seem to expect an answer, going on. “I was worried from the first time I saw you were interested in him. He could smile and make a woman feel that she was important to him. But I thought he spread it around too much.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything to me then?” She studied her mother’s face, looking for an answer.

  Mammi smiled a little sadly. “You were in love. You wouldn’t have listened. Besides, I thought once you were married, maybe he’d save his charm for you. All I could do was pray that it was so.”

  Beth averted her gaze to study the pattern of faded colors in the rug. How had she not known that her mother had those reservations about her marriage? She began to think she had been blind when it came to James.

  “So now all you can do is to forgive him if he hurt you.” She reached out to touch Beth’s chin, tilting it to see her eyes. “Have you been able to do that?”

  Her mother didn’t know how much she had to forgive, or how far James had strayed. And Beth couldn’t tell her.

  “I try, but it still bothers me some.” It bothered her a lot, but surely it would get better soon.

  “I knew there was something you weren’t saying.”

  “How could I?” She desperately wanted this conversation over before she said something she shouldn’t. “I can’t talk about James’s faults, especially now that he’s gone.”

  “My poor Beth.” Mammi patted her hand. “Peace will come, in God’s own time.”

  “Until then...”

  “Until then, you must pray to be able to forgive. And you must do and say what you would if you really had forgiven.”

  She was silent, wrestling with it. “That sounds like you want me to pretend.”

  “It’s not pretending,” her mother said. “It’s trusting the gut Lord to give you what you’ve asked. Will you try to do that?”

  Beth brushed back a strand of hair pulled loose by the wind. Her fingers touched her kapp, with its constant reminder to pray.

  “Yah,” she said finally. “I’ll try.”

  Chapter Seven

  Janie arrived early the next morning, obviously looking forward to her new job. Benjy was delighted to see her, but not so delighted to learn that he wasn’t going to the store this morning.

  “But, Mammi, I’m a big help at the store.”

  Beth pulled her sweater on against the chill of the fall morning, hoping to make the parting short and sweet. “Of course you are. But we’ll get along without you for one day. And besides, Janie wants to play with you. Maybe she’ll even take you for a hike.”

  “Sure I will.” Janie responded quickly. “Meantime, why don’t we go and gather eggs? Do you know where the egg basket is?”

  “Yah.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “But the big rooster...”

  They both knew that Benjy was a little scared of the rooster, who had a habit of lunging at intruders to his kingdom.

  “Tell you what,” Janie said. “We’ll take the broom, and if he tries anything, we’ll give him a gut swat. Okay?”

  Benjy considered a moment, and Beth edged toward the door.

  “Yah, okay.” Benjy grabbed Janie’s hand. “Bye, Mammi.”

  Relieved, she gave him a quick hug and slipped off, half expecting a call after her. But apparently Janie had things under control, and a glance over her shoulder told Beth they were off toward the chicken coop, carrying the broom and the basket between them.

  Setting off down the lane alone felt odd. Since Benjy’s birth, there had been few times that they’d been separated. Maybe this would be good for him. In two years, he’d be off to school, hard as it was to believe.

  As for her—well, she was going to her job, and she felt a certain satisfaction in that fact. At first, she hadn’t been able to imagine doing this, and she still remembered the fear she’d felt at Daniel’s suggestion.

  Smiling, she waved a bumblebee away from her face and watched it dive toward the asters along the fence. Working at the store had been even scarier than the belligerent rooster. Now she looked forward to it.

  When Beth reached the front of the store, she paused for a moment, glancing at the displays in the two big windows. Would a person call them displays? Stacks of various canned goods didn’t seem to her to be an attractive advertisement for the store.

  How would Daniel react if she suggested doing something different? She could think of half a dozen things that would make the window more attractive.

  Daniel had been fine with her helping around the store, but he might feel she hadn’t been there long enough to change things. Still, her newfound confidence might be great enough to try. She began thinking about how to bring it up.

  As soon as she entered, she spotted Daniel, his face clouded, striding toward her.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said abruptly.

  “I’m not late, am I?” She glanced at the clock to see she was right on time.

  “No, not at all.” He chased away the frown. “Sorry. I just heard that Anna is going to be late today, and I’ve got a shipment arriving in a couple of minutes and a couple other things to do in the back. But now you’re here, you’ll be able to mind the store.”

  Beth could sense that he was still concerned, and she made a guess. “Is there some problem with Anna?”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “Just the usual one. Her father. Every once in a while, Hiram starts in on her about respecting your father and mother and how she should be doing more at home. I guess this was a bad morning—she stopped at the convenience store at the other end of town to call.”

  Beth’s ready compassion went out to the girl. “That’s foolish. After all, she’s already working a full day here.”

  “And taking her paycheck home to her parents,” he added.

  She shook her head, praying she’d never be that sort of parent. “It’s one thing to be strict about the Ordnung and another to be downright nasty. My parents managed, even with my brothers, to insist on right behavior without being so...”

  “Nasty,” he finished for her. “You had the right word to begin with. We were fortunate in our parents, ain’t so?”

  Beth nodded. “Yah, we were. They set a gut example, and they were firm but never unfair.”

  The buzzer went just then, announcing the delivery truck, and Beth hurried behind the counter. “You go on. I’ll take care of things out here.”

  He flashed her the smile that crinkled his eyes. “I know you will.”

  Beth found herself dwelling on Daniel’s words as he headed back to the storeroom. It sounded as if he found her a help. She didn’t kid herself that she could do everything that James had done in the partnership, but she liked knowing Daniel appreciated her efforts. It might be easier than she’d thought to bring up changing the window displays.

  The Englisch woman who’d been browsing at the far end of the store came toward the counter with a full shopping basket.

  “Ready to check out?” Beth smiled at her, admiring the way her turquoise scarf contrasted with the dark red of her hair. Not many Amish had red hair, and if they did, it was usually a light carroty color. This red was as rich and dark as the sorrel gelding Daad had once owned.

  “I suppose so.” The woman looked at her questioningly. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve only been working here for a short time.” Beth weighed the bag of apples the woman had picked out, tempted to tell her that they’d come from her own trees. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

  A frown creased the woman’s smooth skin. “Not quite. I was hoping you might have a few quilted table runners in the craft section, but it’s looking pretty bare right now.”

  In an instant, Daniel’s voice slid into her mind, saying that maybe James h
ad been going to visit some crafters the night he died. Her fingers shook, and she grasped the carton of eggs with both hands.

  “Is something wrong?” The woman was looking at her strangely.

  “No, not at all. My husband used to handle the craft section before he...before he passed away. We’ll probably be getting some more things in soon, if you’d like to come back.”

  “I’m sorry.” The woman looked horrified for a moment. “I didn’t realize. It was your husband who had that buggy accident, then.”

  Beth nodded. She shouldn’t have said anything, but it had been surprised out of her. And now that it was done, she couldn’t help noticing that the woman was even more upset than she was.

  It wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t have known that her words would have an effect on Beth.

  “It’s all right to mention him.” Beth produced a smile, but her mind was working busily behind it. The woman was attractive—very much so—and not a lot older than Beth, although it was always hard to tell age in an Englisch woman.

  She’d already told herself that the woman James had been seeing might have been an Englisch woman. He met all kinds of people in the store. Could this be the one?

  She looked down to bag the woman’s produce, glad she had an excuse not to look at her. She could hardly go around accusing other women of being involved with her husband.

  She ought to say something. The customer would find it odd. But before she could speak, the woman had thrust the money at her and had seized her bags and gone.

  * * *

  Daniel had just finished unloading when Anna scurried in, averting her gaze in a way that said she didn’t want to talk. Frustrated, he shook his head. Not that he wanted to interfere with Hiram Fisher’s family, but Anna was a good, hardworking youngster and he hated to see her so upset.

  He considered following her, trying to get her to talk, but she went straight to the counter to relieve Beth, and he gave it up, a little relieved. If anyone could get her to talk, Beth would do a better job than he ever could.

  He saw them exchange a few words. Beth gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, but Anna seemed to flinch away. As he’d feared, Anna was determined to keep her troubles to herself.

  A few minutes later, Beth joined him in the back of the store. She cast a concerned look at Anna. “Someone should talk to Hiram.”

  “I doubt it would do much good.”

  When anger flashed in her eyes, he shook his head.

  “I know. I’d like to fix it, too. But I fear anything we might say to Hiram would make things worse.”

  The anger faded. “You’re right, I suppose. At least she’s here much of the time, instead of constantly under his eye.”

  “I never thought of the store as a haven, but you might be right.” He kept his voice deliberately light. Beth had enough to deal with on her own without fretting over someone else.

  He was rewarded with a hint of a smile. “Speaking of the store,” she began, then seemed unsure how to continue.

  “Yah?”

  “Have you ever thought...well, of doing a sort of display in the windows?” Beth’s voice faltered a little, as if fearing he’d be insulted.

  Well, he wasn’t—he was delighted. Beth was showing enough interest in the business to want changes. That meant she’d begun to consider it hers.

  “I never thought of it.” That was true enough. “It’s a fine idea, but I wouldn’t know where to begin. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Actually, I have thought of a few things that would make it look brighter and more appealing. And maybe highlight some of the autumn fruits and vegetables.”

  “That sounds great.” He’d have said that in any event, just to see her smile. “Why don’t you take it on?”

  Beth’s green eyes lit with enthusiasm. She looked as if he’d given her a present. “I’d like that fine. Are you sure you don’t mind?” Again that hint of apprehension in her voice made him want to chase it away.

  “Mind? It’s a great idea. Where should we start? You tell me what to do, and I’ll carry things for you.”

  Apparently, that convinced her. She went to the window so quickly he had to hurry to catch up.

  “I just thought of it this morning, so I don’t have it all planned out yet. But I was thinking since autumn is coming on, we could arrange things that remind folks of that. A few pumpkins and cornstalks, maybe.”

  The pleasure in her face was enough to convince him to do whatever necessary to keep it there. “I’ll bring the cornstalks in tomorrow. There are some dry ones in the lower field that haven’t been cut. And what about maybe a pail or basket with winter squash and such?”

  “Yah, gut. That way I can switch them out every day or so.” She grasped a case of canned beans and started to pull it out of the window.

  “Whoa. I’ll move cases. You just say where.” He reached past her to take the box, his hands brushing hers and sending a little flush of warmth up his arms. He pulled the box away quickly.

  “I’m not that helpless.” Her face lit with amusement. “Don’t you remember how we used to load baskets of apples? I could do as many as you.”

  “I don’t know about that.” He climbed into the window, relieved to see that Timothy, whose job it was, had kept it clean. “But you weren’t bad for a girl.”

  As they cleared out the window, preparing it for the transformation, Beth seemed happier than she had in a long time. Maybe it was partly the excitement of a new project combined with some easy chatter about old times. Reminiscing, even when she mentioned James now and then, came easily, and he encouraged it, searching his memory for happy times they’d shared.

  With the last cardboard box removed, Beth looked around the space with satisfaction. “Gut. I have some of those old crates that my onkel used—they’d be just right to set things on.”

  “I remember them. Didn’t we take some in to school for a spring program?” he asked, remembering. “And James jumped on one and broke it. I thought the teacher would be angry, but she didn’t say a word.” He shook his head. “He was the teacher’s pet, ain’t so?”

  He glanced at Beth, but he didn’t see the answering amusement he expected. “Yah.” Beth’s lips tightened. “James could always charm any woman.”

  If it helped, he’d slap himself for saying such a foolish thing. Clearly Beth hadn’t forgotten the careless words the driver had spoken. And what must he do but say something that reminded her.

  Above all else, he had to avoid letting her sense his own suspicions. “That was Teacher Emma, I’m afraid. She liked the boys better than the girls, I always thought.” It was a foolish comment, he supposed, but he had to say something.

  Her face tightened, and he knew she wasn’t soothed.

  “Did you notice the woman I was helping when you went to do the unloading?” Her tone was abrupt.

  “I... I guess so. Red-haired, wasn’t she? That’s Mrs. Philmont. She comes in pretty often for fresh produce. Why?”

  Beth didn’t meet his eyes. “She seemed a little odd when she realized who I was. I thought...well, maybe she was someone James liked to flirt with.” She shook her head quickly. “Never mind. I’m sorry I said it. I can’t go around wondering about every woman who comes into the store.”

  Daniel didn’t know what to say. He’d give anything to be able to say that James never looked at another woman, but she’d know that wasn’t true. James had always looked. Even when they were teenagers...

  He tried to stop that line of thought, but it wouldn’t be stopped. James had only had to look at a girl to melt her heart. Even Beth, the girl his best friend cared for.

  The fault was his, not James’s. If he’d spoken up sooner... But he hadn’t, and he’d lost his chance with Beth. It had been too late for him a long time ago.

  * * *

  Beth found herself mulling over tha
t conversation with Daniel as she clamped the food mill onto the kitchen table that evening. Lydia would be there any minute, and they were going to can a batch of applesauce with some of the McIntosh apples she’d picked. With Benjy visiting his grandmother, they’d be able to have a good talk.

  Would she or wouldn’t she tell Lydia about Daniel? There wasn’t that much to tell, she assured herself...just the fact that she’d spoken more frankly with Daniel about James than she’d done with anyone else, even her mother.

  She couldn’t tell her parents. It would hurt them too much. And Lydia had found out just by being there.

  But Daniel knew at least part of the problem because she’d turned to him in her pain, and he’d been there, comforting and sure. The kind of good friend who came along a few times in a lifetime.

  She wondered at the amount of trust she’d shown in him, but she couldn’t go back and undo it.

  The sound of hoofbeats in the lane told her Lydia was there, and her heart lifted. She’d enjoy their time together, she decided, and not worry about what she should say and what she should keep quiet.

  The inevitable chatter erupted as soon as Lydia reached the house. She came into the kitchen like a whirlwind, dumping down a box of canning jars, tossing her heavy sweater onto the hook and hugging Beth.

  “I thought I wasn’t going to get out of the house. My sister stopped by, for a minute, she said, but she wouldn’t stop talking. And I wanted to get on with the dishes, but Mamm would think that was rude.”

  “It’s all right. We have plenty of time. Is your sister okay? Which one?”

  “Doris, of course. Who else would be complaining?” She grabbed a knife and started cleaning apples. “There’s always something—if it’s not the baby teething, it’s the twins catching colds and her mother-in-law saying she should give them cod liver oil. It’s enough to discourage you from getting married.”

  “You don’t mean that,” she said, thinking how popular Lydia had always been. Still, she’d never seemed to get serious about anyone.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I wish Miriam were home again,” Lydia said, pausing in processing apples through the food mill. “It seems like forever since all three of us were together.”